#if anyone adds onto this ill love you forever

[squidcave]

i wanna know more about autism skulduggery

oh boy do I have some headcanons for you 😎

he doesn't like Christmas bc (iirc) of how excessive it is. Christmas is so much all the time for a month straight and it's overstimulating as hell. Instead of ever just saying that though, he'll just stick with 'i don't like Christmas'

People he's not close to call him cold/scary and say, fully believing it too, that he cares about no one but himself (and Valkyrie as others meet her) but that's just not true!! he cares about his friends a lot (first non Val example that comes to mind is him not telling anyone his theory on Saracen's magic. like he figured that out and kept it to himself until Saracen said something bc it was clearly an important secret), he just happens to have relatively few of those lmao

He's also been dressing in the same style for like,, a century there abouts? and has shown no interest in changing that any time soon, which, real as fuck

Also also, he does not give two fucks about what someone thinks of him. And if he doesn't like someone, they will know about it because why pretend otherwise? He can be cordial when necessary but like Guild? not even gonna try

Also also also, stimming!! (this is p much all entirely HC)

when he was a kid, he liked snapping his fingers (makes a sound AND an impact?? hell yeah) but, as you might imagine, the more he did elemental magic, the less he snapped until he stopped completely. Instead, he taps on things: arms, tables, steering wheel, files - pretty much whatever's in his hands at any given moment. The reason Valkyrie notices his tapping in phase one is because it's an irregular beat, when she's used to him tapping out something consistent and steady. Also, his gun. Tell me he's not using that thing as a fidget.

ok final thing, promise. He is so bad at emotions. and change. and the complicated emotions that go along with change. thinking about Lord Vile being the product of undealt with grief and anger and just that little bit of manipulation (thank you Abyssinia, slay) and how when Vile went away, those feelings did not. even in the present day, do we think he ever actually dealt with that? processed anything that's happened just in the books themselves? Mr Skulduggery 'Therapy Would Make Me Worse, Actually' Pleasant?? No, I don't think he did. Honestly I think him getting cats is the closest to therapy he's gonna get lmao

anyway, didn't mean to type up a fucking essay here but if anyone wants to hear more, I'm here forever 🫶

[shotosjupiter]

HEARTLESS LOVE (LET ME LOVE YOU.)

࣪𖤐 sypnosis... kunikuzushi is not accustomed to the feeling of love. how will he go about dealing with those feelings when you're always around?

࣪𖤐 note. i haven't wrote in forever so - there's that warning! i refer to scaramouche as kunikuzushi instead of scaramouche! 1.5k words.

࣪𖤐 tags. scaramouche x reader, slight angst (scara's feelings) but overall very fluffy and romantic!

KUNIKUZUSHI had never experienced this feeling before. He had, of course, experienced many emotions and feelings throughout the course of his long, half a century life but never this. Kunikuzushi has experienced the feeling of anger, rage, heartbreak, betrayal, and hurt above all. He was well-versed with these emotions, he had reveled in these emotions in another life. But this, this bruising feeling had nearly enraptured his very being. 

He felt it within the cavity in his chest, the place where a heart should be beating, strongly. This yearning, this aching. It was akin to the desire of wanting a gnosis; to want wholly because perhaps then finally he would find his purpose, his meaning. And yet, it was deeper than that. Your existence meant more than that. You were more multifaceted than simply being the person of his desires. He knew that better than anyone that existence was no longer something that was whittled down to one trait. He knew, and yet. 

Perhaps he was just feeling ill - yes, that was it. He was just under the weather, never mind the fact that his synthetic puppet body was not able to get sick (not to his knowledge at least). The warmth that circulated from his cheeks to his ears was simply a fever he had caught, even though he only ever experienced it when you would look at him with stars in your eyes. The anxiety he felt when he saw you becoming very close with someone else was simply just upturned nausea from food he had eaten earlier, yes. The chest palpitations he felt in his very void chest was perhaps just simply a by-factor of his body wearing down over the ages. 

At least - that’s what he tried to tell himself. He wasn’t quite sure how long these… symptoms were ongoing for but he had only become aware of them - and their meaning - merely two weeks ago. 

He prided himself on the fact that even if he was experiencing the weakness of feeling these symptoms, emotions, feelings, at least he was able to keep them confidential. You would never even see the difference in how he acted then and now.

…Right? 

Kunikuzushi is repeating the mantra over and over that you haven’t the foggiest clue about his inner emotional turmoil when he bumps right into you. 

There’s a low fluttering in his abdomen that feels vaguely as if he’s being tossed around upside down and around when he meets your glittering eyes. The smile you reward him with doesn’t seem to help his cause either - he swears the feeling of crystalflies in his stomach isn’t something that was a regular symptom before. 

Add ‘about to throw up when in their vicinity’ to the list then, he grumbles internally. 

He factors in the fact that you’re talking to him about something, but the words were lost in the rush of adrenaline and nerves that were rushing through his ears. You looked oh-so pretty while you talked, with your hands waving around to make your point all the more there but then - 

“What do you think, Kunikuzushi ?” 

He blinked. He hadn’t been paying attention to what you were saying in the least. It was in no disrespect to you, but he was a little… distracted to say the least. 

“No.” That was a safe answer, right?

“You don’t want to go for lunch together?”

Apparently it was not a safe answer. He balked at your response and waved his hands around, trying to explain, “No. Well - yes. Yes, I do want to go but, I didn’t mean-”

He’s cut off by the sound of your laughter and he can’t help the smile that’s itching onto his face. Once you stop giggling, you nod to him and confirm when to meet him for lunch. You walk off afterwards, declaring that there was much work you had to do in order to have a stress-free lunch. 

Kunikuzushi lets out a sigh of relief at your departure. Hands covering his face, he screws his eyes shut as he replays the encounter that just happened. He really needs to get his shit together. 

His moments of embarrassment did not end there, much to Kunikuzushi’s dismay. At lunch, he had believed he was going strong. The restaurant was your choice, with a homey and warm environment with two bowls of hot soup ladened with noodles as your choices for lunch. He had just finished his bowl, setting down his chopsticks, when you had reached over from across the table and tucked strands of his hair behind his ear. 

His chopsticks had dropped down onto the table in a clatter and his head snapped up at you, ears slowly developing into an ombre of red. But you seemed unbothered by it at all and had gone back to tucking into your noodles, as if you had done nothing at all. 

A few days later, he was in the Akademiya library helping you find a book to help you further conduct your research. The library was his favorite place in the whole Akademiya - with its mosaic of stained glass on the roof letting in filtered colored light, the shelves upon shelves of old books, and most of all, sustained silence. Kunikuzushi reveled in the library. 

He was just coming back to you with three books when you appear in front of him, in the narrow passageway between bookshelves. You slip past behind him, letting your hands touch around his waist in order to effectively move past him, muttering a kind “Excuse me,” as you walk past. 

Yet again, he’s left feeling flustered, this time with the ghost of your hands still on his waist. He remains silent and quietly walks back to the desk which has a plethora of books sprawled all over. He scoffs at his nerves and dedicates himself back to the books in front of him. He was not so weak as to completely crumple from such a miniature gesture. His feelings were stronger than that, in fact. 

(He yearned to feel the touch of your hands, once more.)

His last and final moment of embarrassment was late at night. The two of you were sprawled across the grass, near a small hill next to one of the Akademiya buildings. It was dark, past any time to be awake with the only noises outside being the sounds of crickets and your rhythmic breathings. The grass left a nice sensation across his bare hands and arms as Kunikuzushi counted the exhales you exuded. 

The stars were bright that night. He could see the constellations of Andromeda and Cassiopeia, and was just about to point them out when you had turned towards him calling his name out softly. 

“Hm?” He prompted. 

“You’ve been different lately. Why?” You were always prompt and direct when it came to confrontation. However, he could tell from the way you were imploringly searching his eyes that this was something that had been bothering you for as long as it had bothered him. 

He let out a sigh. He wasn’t quite sure how to go about this. He clutched blades of grass beneath his fingers, pulling them out of the ground. Avoiding your eyes, he started, “I am no   god. I am no god, and it is evident from how I yearn for you so desperately. I want you. I feel for you, I feel for you romantically and-” He takes a deep breath, despite not needing one. 

“I would like for you to give me a chance. To prove I have purpose, to prove I can make you feel happy. Let me love you.” He whispers the last sentence as if it was a thought that  barely escaped his soul. 

Kunikuzushi finally looks up to your eyes, this time his eyes doing the searching. Your hands reach out to cradle his face, and he can feel whatever synthetic heart he has within him soften. He reaches up to cover your hands with his when you whisper, “You are no god and yet I love you as if it is worship, Kunikuzushi. I will let you love me if only you allow me the same.” 

He realizes he doesn’t know how to process this. Kunikuzushi never imagined that you felt what he felt. That you felt the intensity of this feeling. He felt the trail of something liquid going down his cheeks, tears, he realized, as he nodded vehemently. “Yes. Yes, I’ve never wanted something more.” 

You leave a small kiss upon his forehead as he holds you close to his chest, hands trembling that he can touch you like this. He has never felt more bliss than in this moment. 

[peonierose]

How are Bryce and Luna coping during the first month of being parents, and to twins no less?

”Love Me Tender“

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Bryce Lahela (M!MC) x Luna Auclair (F!OC)

Words: 2,428k

TW: None. Mentions of breastfeeding.

Summary: Bryce and Luna are newly minted parents and weren’t prepared of struggling to put their twins to bed. Will they succeed?

A/N: Thanks so much for your ask @liaromancewriter it inspired me for two fics actually. ”Love Me Tender“ is one of them 🥰 The Title was inspired by one of the greatest artists and hot guys who’s ever lived, Elvis Presley 🩷

Bryce

It was 4:35 in the morning, and both Lunes and I were still awake. Trying to put the twins to bed. 

I sighed. 

How‘d my life come to this? Don’t get me wrong. I love our girls more than anyone I could ever love, but getting them to sleep is a real struggle. 

We put them to bed hours ago and put them on the mobile, letting pretty stars and moons go by, but their sleep didn’t last long. 

They woke up two hours ago and won’t fall asleep.

What happened to peace and quiet? One week prior, everything was great. They didn’t mention this quick transition in the pregnancy books I read. Maybe I read the wrong books? 

Well, I guess they covered other stuff, but not what to do when your kids wake you up at 4 a.m.

Luna suddenly sits up with Kehlani and walks her around the room. With Alaia in my arms, I go and get the bunnies they got from Ethan, their godfather, hoping that’ll soothe them into sleep. 

They hang onto the bunnies for a few seconds, but they’re still fussy. It didn’t work. Alaia's little face was still red from crying. 

So maybe plans c or d could work? Damn, we could really use Keiki’s help, but she’s on a field trip with her study group. 

Luna’s voice brings me back into the moment. 

”They’re not hungry, right? We changed them, and now what?“ Luna asks while I’m holding Alaia close to my chest. As I place kisses on top of her head, her soft blonde hair smells of lavender shampoo. 

I read somewhere that babies like skin-to-skin contact. So that’s why Lunes and I are basically standing in the middle of the room in our underwear. 

”I don’t know. Honestly, I’m close to crying with them. Then it’ll be a duet.“ Luna says it with a sigh. 

I exhale a long breath I’ve been holding in because I’m frustrated too. God, I‘ve never appreciated sleep more than I do now.

”What if we show them a video with marine animals? They seemed to love that last time.“ I suggested it, and I could see Luna’s shoulder droop in relief.

”Let’s give it a try.“ Luna adds, and we walk downstairs and sit down with the twins as I turn on Disney+ and select a nature documentary about marine animals, one that’ll last for at least two and a half hours. 

Soon, both twins' eyes are glued to the screen. 

We didn’t want to start them too early on screen time, but sometimes you have to in order to function as a human being and get some rest. 

After 30 minutes or so into the documentary, I saw both their eyes drooping, and they fell asleep.

”You’re a genius.“ Luna whispers, scared to wake them up.

"Well, this genius is too scared to move.“ I say frozen in place.

Luna sighs.

”Is now a bad time to have to pee?“ She says it with a guilt tinge in her voice.

I close my eyes. 

"Oh, come on, Lunes. Couldn’t you have peed before they fell asleep? What if we wake them up? Look how long it took before they fell asleep.“ 

Luna softly moves around.

”I’ll be quick, I promise.“ She says this and gently places Kehlani on the couch. As soon as her feet hit the floor, Lani stirs and starts to cry. Rosie isn’t far behind. 

”I hope your pee is worth waking the twins over.“ I'm trying to massage their little backs, hoping it’ll soothe them. 

Twins are funny in that regard. They have a special bond, especially if they’re identical twins, like our girls. 

But the downside is that as soon as one is ill or cries, the other does as well. 

They’re creepily in sync. Hopefully, it won’t stay like this forever—the crying, I mean. I know Kehlani and Alaia will turn out wonderful.

I turn to my wonderful girls.

”Why don’t you stop crying? Daddy would really like to get some sleep. So I can wake up pretty.“ 

They look up at my words and then continue crying. 

That’s when it hits me amidst the crying. I remember when Keiki and I were little, my mom used to sing to us »Love Me Tender« by Elvis Presley; it always calmed us down. Maybe we can try it with the twins. 

As soon as Luna is back from her bathroom break, I gently take the twins into my arms.

”I think I have an idea.“ I say the idea for the song is taking root. 

We walk upstairs, and Luna eyes me skeptically. 

”You know how to brew a potion that will make them sleep for seven hours straight?“ She asks excitedly. 

I gave her a sideways look. 

"Yeah, that was a little bit unrealistic.“ She shrugs, and I laugh softly. 

”Let’s try singing »Love Me Tender« by Elvis Presley.“

”Why that song?“ She asks as we reach the twin's bedroom. 

I breathed out, and as I laid the twins in their beds, I turned towards Luna, who never looked more beautiful. 

With wild hair, just in her underwear, illuminated by the light from the hallway. 

I put a strand of her hair behind her ear, and she smiled tenderly at me. It’s these moments I treasure the most, even with the twins crying. 

I pulled her closer as I told her about the idea I had. I want to reveal a bit more about myself and my childhood, which I don’t talk about nearly enough, but I should, because whether it was good or bad, memories are important to talk about. 

”My mom used to sing that song to me and Keiki all the time. Whenever we were sick, or when we were sad and had a hard time, it just always made things a bit easier.“ I explained.

Luna‘s smile reached her tired eyes, and she cupped my cheek to give me a soft kiss. 

”Let’s give it a try. I think I’ve still got my ukulele somewhere. Let me go grab it, and we’ll try singing that song. To be honest, it’s one of my favorite songs by Elvis. He was such a hot guy and so sweet. And what a voice, my god! They just don’t make them like that anymore.“

"Hey, I’m trying to save the world, and you’re calling another man hot? Shame on you, Lunes.“

”You didn’t let me finish. They don’t make them like that anymore, but you are the exception.“ She grinned. 

”You were always my favorite.“ I smiled and slapped her butt, making her laugh out loud as she went to look for her ukulele. Her laughter was still echoing from the walls, making me grin too. 

After a minute or so, Luna came back with her pink ukulele, adorned with flowers, hearts, and moons. She sat down in front of the twin beds and played the first tunes.

”I had no idea you played the ukulele.“ I was surprised to see her play the ukulele like a pro.

”I learned it along with Hula dancing.“

“Can I get this as a late birthday present?“ I imagined her in a hula get-up. The best image ever. 

Luna sighed.

"Really, that’s where your mind went to?“ She chastised me.

”Don‘t blame me. I’m tired and horny. And I’m not sorry.“

She shook her head, grinning. Soon the first tunes of the ukulele joined with her soft voice, and the twins stopped their crying. Too fascinated by what’s going on to keep crying. 

Yes, I pump my fist in the air; it looks as if the plan worked. Luna and I fist-bumped each other because our plan turned out better than expected. 

As the last note echoed in their bedroom, they soon fell asleep, and it looked as if we could go and catch some sleep too. 

”Thank God for our parents, who had good ideas.“

Luna nodded. 

We put on the mobile with the moon and stars spinning around softly and didn’t close the door entirely as we went to our bedroom. 

When we were lying down in bed, Luna turned to me, and I put an arm around her to pull her closer to me. 

”Let me guess you have a million questions.“ I said, and she elbowed me in the side. I laughed and kissed her on top of her head. 

”You miss her, don’t you?“

I don’t even try to act as if I don‘t know who she’s referring to.

"Yeah, I do, more than I care to admit.“ I turn around, so we’re lying face-to-face. 

”Maybe you need some love me tender too.“ Luna says this as she’s leaning into me. 

”That would be nice.“ I smiled against her lips.

Two days later...

Luna

We’re both leaning on the kitchen counter, bleary-eyed, and with our eyes half closed. 

”This is the second time in a row we haven’t slept.“ I mumbled. 

Bryce doesn't even look up from his coffee. 

”I mean, we knew this was going in, but it still stinks sometimes.“ 

I nodded and almost missed my mug in front of me.

”Damn. I never appreciated coffee as much as I do now. I love our kids, but I’d give my left kidney for two hours of sleep. Not even night shifts are this bad.“ 

”Come on, we'll get through this.“ I tried to sound more cheerful but just ended up sounding tired. But from the smile tugging at Bryce’s lips, I could still make him smile, which is a win in my book.

I’m about to take another sip from my juice since I‘m nursing when our doorbell rings, and I just grumble. 

”I’ll go get it.“ I said, and Bryce just mumbled incoherent words. 

I opened the front door, seeing my cousin Skyler, or Sky for short, stand in front of me.

”Good morning, sunshine.“ He looked well rested, with no dark circles under his smooth tan skin. His piercing dark blue eyes shone as if he sprang from the youth fountain. It’s so unfair how good he looked compared to my tired self. 

I groaned again and shielded my eyes from the glaring sun coming inside our house.

I stepped aside, and Sky walked in. 

”Is it a good morning? Huh. It’s already morning, and the sun is shining. Gosh, I’ve lost all feeling for what time it actually is or what day.“

Sky turned my way and only raised his eyebrows.

”You’re being weird.“

I sighed and joined Bryce in the kitchen. I grinned as Bryce held on to his steaming coffee mug, half asleep. 

”I came to the rescue. I thought I’d have to send a search party after your radio silence.“ 

”Please make him stop saying words.“ Bryce groaned.

”Come on, I’m good with kids, and I’m offering to help.“ Sky grinned. 

”So they sent you?“

”B!“ I exclaimed.

”Look, man. I’m really sorry. I’m just so fucking tired.“ Bryce sighed.

”Me too.“ I joined in while taking a sip of my mango and pineapple juice. 

"Yeah, Luna too.“ Bryce said while smiling tiredly. 

”No hard feelings. It’s all good. You‘ll get a free pass. This once. I know mom and dad struggled with us; you know, we're triplets, so I thought I’d help you out.“ Sky explained. 

Bryce’s eyes were tired from being up all night helping me change the twins and trying to make them fall asleep. 

We’re exhausted, and it’s only been four months since we brought the twins home. 

Sky looked from me to Bryce.

”You guys look as if you’ve partied all night. And it was a weird theme party.“ He teased. 

"Yeah, if you count changing, breastfeeding, and getting the twins to sleep, and it takes almost all night? Yeah, then we partied real hard.“ I sighed.

And then I added. 

"Damn, breastfeeding really hurts. Who knew? I really hope the pain lessens a bit.“

”I’m even too tired to make a dirty joke about breasts and make you feel better.“ Bryce sighed and smiled softly but tiredly.

”I don’t need to know about your…uhh…anatomy. Or your female body parts.“ Sky winced. 

”Who’s being weird now?“ I smirked.

”Fair.“

We were all startled when we heard the baby monitor on the kitchen counter squeak. 

Both Bryce and I groaned.

Sky smiled.

”You know what? Why don’t I check up on the little angels? While you guys do whatever it is you do, make out or something.“

”We’re way too tired to make out.“ Bryce and I said it at the same time. 

The fog in my brain lifted, and it hit me. 

”Wait, are you here to babysit?“ 

Sky shrugged. 

"Yeah, why not? I have the next two days off, so I thought I’d take over, and you can go and do whatever it is you’re doing.“

”You’re an angel, and I love you.“ I smiled and hugged him tight. Sky grinned and hugged me back. 

Yep, he’s my favorite cousin. At least right now. 

”She doesn’t mean it.“ Bryce commented with a mischievous glint in his eyes. I grinned, so that’s where Lani and Rosie got it from. 

”Stop being mean.“ I said this to Bryce without any real heat behind my words. 

”Sorry. If you’re true to your word, I’ll go take a nap.“

I stopped hugging Sky for a minute to give B a look.

”Not even showering?“

”I love my bed more than my shower right now.“

"Well, I don’t. So let’s hit the shower.“ 

Sky looked from me to Bryce.

”You are weirding me out. I’ll go look after the twins.“ 

”Thanks Sky.“

”You got it.“ He yelled. 

Bryce and I walked outside to our shower while Bryce mumbled and was grumpy until the water hit his face. 

When we came back from our shower and were settled in our bed, Bryce checked the baby monitor, but the monitor was quiet. It looks as if Sky is a wizard when it comes to calming down kids. 

”It’s so quiet.“ I turned to Bryce.

”What did we do before we had kids? Look at me, sounding pathetic.“

”You don’t sound, and you aren’t pathetic. It’s a new routine for us. And I guess we just have to find our balance.“

We both nodded.

Bryce drew circles on my skin, and I curled up into him, and seconds later we were already asleep while holding hands. 

Life is good when you’re with the people you love. Whether you’re blood-related or not, cherish those moments. 

[audioroleplayconfessions]

https://www.tumblr.com/audioroleplayconfessions/757267969406533632/httpswwwtumblrcomaudioroleplayconfessions756?source=share

I'm the person who wrote the original David rant thingy i wanted to reply, and I must say I fully agree. You hit the nail on the head.

David has favoritism for sure.

He allowed asher to do whatever the fuck at the gala vampire thingy, he also allowed milo and sweetheart to do whatever UNDER the guide of asher.

( I'm not sure if he knows yet but just to add onto my point )

Knew how sweetheart and milo met....literally fighting a shade. Condoned what milo did in the inversion despite telling some pack members not to get involved.

Yet when darling, someone who he himself had admitted to not being close with wants to get angry and upset that they didn't ask for help about quinn? I wondering fucking why David.? In the confrontation video he mentions at the end that darlin should try earning his trust back....SIR....they never trusted YOU in the first place...tf you mean they gotta earn it?

Everyone, and I mean everyone EVEN FLIPPING William, Vincent, lovely, fuck even porter...knew the reason for darlin wanting to deal with quinn alone. They never Condoned their actions BUT UNDERSTOOD. From my POV David didnt TRULY understand.... Yet darlin is faced with harsh pushiment and literally public shaming. Again in the end of the confrontation video David says he's happy darlin is back, but sweetie...how would darlin know you care about them when everytime y'all interact you just ' bully ' them; In the gala video Vincent and porter made sure darlin was okay because they knew Alexis was there....at this point Vincent probs knew darlin for little over a year and porter a month.

They gave darlin the best treatment dispute knowing darlin for a very little time... they dont even get special treatment cause their with sam...they generally got to know darlin, but the pack can't say the same...they've known them for years and still gets treated like the stranger..

It's been proven time and time again that darlin never trusted anyone in the pack BESIDES ASHER...because thank God he was the only one to admit that darlin has truly had the packs back. Example them Defending asher when he was appointed the beta position.but dispute darlin not trusting anyone they still cared enough to want to see everyone safe and unharmed.

I also dislikes the way he acted towards angel in the beginning, im not saying anyone you just met is entitled to kindness, but even after a while of them dating he's still a dick? There's a difference to being a Tsundere and straight up a dick.

" but his backstory! He's a sad boy. " I truly don't care. It's not an excuse In my eyes.

David likes to wonder why darlin isn't as connected to the pack, but when you listen to how the vampires treat darlin in such a short time of knowing them you truly understand.

I also dislikes how the pack felt ENTITLED to darlin story with Quinn and how it should be delt with.

I will forever stand by asher being the only one who gives a fuck about darlin..cause I don't recall milo ever mentioning them, but I love milo so he gets a pass <3

Ill give david his flowers though, him calling darlin first and saying they will get their chance with Quinn alone and the hug was sweet...but thats the only point he's getthing.

After that....it's almost as if darlin is nothing to him. He only cared because darlin was a liability to him and the pack.

He never showed any concern or comfort when darlin was at their lowest, only showed them disgust and anger.but when milo was all upset about not being able to shift, who was there with wise words and comfort? David. When asher was recovering from his little inversation ptsd moment who was there? David.

ONE LAST THING ( lowkey made me laugh )

Before darlin moved in with sam, darlin was living I'm some dankey ass apartment....David knew this cause he visited them in his confrontation video. And then just left? Didn't give them any food or nothing 😭 but when sam saw homeboy made sure they ordered themselves food and was eating right cause it was clear they weren't taken care of themselves.

It's favoritism at best.

Of course no hate to Eric, I love his content and the world he made <3 remember yall, your allowed to love something but still have something you dislike.

Naturally all characters have their flaws, and hey.. it could simply just be a plot hole or something that is fixed in the future or something that wont be touched on at all and thats okay!but this is just how I currently feel about David LMAO I wasn't able to finsh his playlist at all cause of said reason. But this doesn't mean he's bad! Just isn't my cup of tea.

This rant is long I'm sorry, but I could write a university style eassy about this dude and his behaviors.

If David has no haters I'm dead LMAO

Reply to this.

[lucienvanitasabysslll]

OK YALL I AM HERE TO ANNOUNCe THAT

i am fully logging off of tumblr now. its official, its permanent, i hate saying things with finality bc i can never be sure whether my monkey brain will crawl back by next week which is why i haven't made this post until now but. its like a 99.99% chance i am going to log off forever, with the exception of possibly coming back to my art blog someday

So in light of this i just wanted to say to any mutuals still hanging around, i love you guys (/p) and if you want to stay in touch please do not hesitate to add me on discord. my user is animal800 :] (if someone who isnt a mutual of mine adds me ill prob block you. jsyk)

i'll remember my time on here fondly. i made a lot of friends and memories, and i really wouldnt have survived the past three years without this blog and my lovely mutuals. but tumblr is simply not working for me anymore and i think it's time for me to move onto other things (like pinterest. yes i know its objectively worse but idc shh) (i dont know if pinterest mutuals are even a thing by my user on there is abysslll if anyone wants to add me on there ig)

SERIOUSLY to any mutuals please feel free to talk to me on disc. even if we never dmed that much or fell out of contact. i genuinely do treasure each and every one of u <3 bye

[acourtofthought]

This was in my drafts and was waiting to post it but after that earlier anon I felt Elain needed a little love.

I know I (very vocally 😂) have always been for the theory that Elain is being set up as High Lady of Spring. I thought I'd previously noticed all the hints but a few more jumped out at me as possibilities.

(The above is one I had noticed before but the rest were new to me. But still, it is interesting how Elain easily dismisses the command in Rhys's voice)

Elain telling the story of Nesta seducing the duke. Certain items made her truly look the part of the daughter of the "PRINCE of Merchants". A princess wearing an AMETHYST gown and diamonds and PEARLS at her neck and ears.

SJM has Elain take off the ill-suited black dress and replace it with an amethyst gown (see above).

Her mate gifts her pearl earrings (see above).

She sits at the head of the table.

Individually, they don't seem like much but when you put them all together they do make an interesting picture.

And when you add them to everything we've been told of Elain or about the magic system in general, why wouldn't be be an amazing candidate to preside over a land?

She had come alive here, and her joy was infectious. There wasn’t a servant or gardener who didn’t smile at her, and even the brusque head cook found excuses to bring her plates of cookies and tarts at various points in the day. I marveled at it, actually—that those years of poverty hadn’t stripped away that light from Elain. Perhaps buried it a bit, but she was generous, loving, and kind—

Elain had taken charge of planning and finding me a last-minute dress.

Elain, who flitted about the room, personally greeting each guest and dancing with all their important sons.

Elain, to my surprise, had a horse, a satchel of food, and supplies ready

“We keep it secret—we send the servants away. With the spring approaching, they’ll be glad to go home. And if Feyre needs to be in and out for meetings, she’ll send word ahead, and we’ll clear them out. Make up excuses to send them on holidays. Father won’t be back until the summer, anyway. No one will know.”

“My sister Elain can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles.”

“Feyre gave and gave—for years. Let us now help her. Help … others.”

A lady—that’s what Elain would become. What she was risking for this.

“Today,” I pushed. “We don’t have any time to lose. Order them to leave now.” “I’ll do it,” Elain said, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. She didn’t wait for either of us before she strode out, graceful as a doe.

Elain beamed. “Good. I think there are a few bedrooms ready—”

“Eternal youth. Do you deny the benefits? A mortal queen becomes one who might reign forever. Of course, there are risks—the transition can be … difficult. But a strong-willed individual could survive.”

“That many people? Not without first finding a safe place, which would take time we don’t have.” Rhys considered. “If we get a ship, they can sail—” “They will demand their families and friends come.” A beat of silence. Not an option. Then Elain said quietly, “We could move them to Graysen’s estate.”. We all faced her at the evenness of her voice. She swallowed, her slender throat so pale, and explained, “His father has high walls—made of thick stone. With space for plenty of people and supplies.” All of us made a point not to look at that ring she still wore. Elain went on, “His father has been planning for something like this for … a long time. They have defenses, stores …” A shallow breath. “And a grove of ash trees, with a cache of weapons made from them.”

“Graysen—we’ve come to beg you …” A pleading glance at his father. “Both of you … Open your gates to any humans who can get here. To families. With the wall down … We—they believe … There is not enough time for an evacuation. The queens will not send aid from the continent. But here—they might stand a chance.”

“Grab onto him!” Elain ordered / Elain screamed at her, “If you want to live, do it now!” / But I saw, even as I ran, Elain’s pale hands lurch—gripping the girl by her neck, holding her as tightly as she could. / Elain moved. As Azriel battled to keep them airborne, keep his grip on them, my sister sent a fierce kick into the beast’s face. Its eye. Another. Another. It bellowed, and Elain slammed her bare, muddy foot into its face again. The blow struck home.

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

“It’s their tradition, though,” Elain countered, her face still flushed with the cold. “One that they fought and died to protect in the war. Perhaps that’s the better way to think of it, rather than feeling guilty. To remember that this day means something to them. All of them, regardless of who has more, who has less, and in celebrating the traditions, even through the presents, we honor those who fought for its very existence, for the peace this city now has.” For a moment, I just stared at my sister, the wisdom she’d spoken. Not a whisper of those oracular abilities. Just clear eyes and an open expression.

“I asked Nuala to do it in that order,” Elain said as the others gathered round. “Because you’re the foundation, the one who lifts us. You always have been.”

“I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.” (Elain's vision is to bring life to the world around her, not just Velaris)

Tending to the gardens of Feyre’s veritable palace on the river, helping other residents of Velaris restore their own destroyed gardens

It wasn’t a guarantee that a High Lord’s firstborn would be his heir. The magic sometimes took a while to decide, and often jumped around the birth order completely. Sometimes it found a cousin instead. Sometimes it abandoned the bloodline entirely. Or chose the heir in that moment of birth, in the echoes of a newborn’s first cries.

Her sister’s delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring (thank you for the reminder on this line @bookeater34)!

“Yes,” Elain said. “She was trained in dance from a very young age. She loves it, and music. Not in the way I enjoy a waltz or gavotte, but in the way that performers make an art of it. Nesta could bring an entire ballroom to a halt when she danced with someone.”/ “The entire ball stopped when Nesta entered,” Elain said. “She made an entrance of it, perfectly cool and aloof, even at fourteen. She barely glanced the duke’s way. Because she’d learned about him as well. Knew he grew bored of anyone that chased him. And knew that the wealth on her that night dwarfed anything that heiress was wearing.”/ “The duke was vain, and Nesta played into that. The entire room came to a standstill. Their dancing was that good; she was that beautiful. And when it ended … I knew she was an artist then. The same way Feyre is. But what Feyre does with paint, that’s what Nesta did with music and dance. Our mother saw it when we were children, and honed it into a weapon. All so Nesta might one day marry a prince.” “Nesta never spoke of it afterward,” Elain said. “I just observed.” Nesta was wrong, Cassian realized, to think Elain as loyal and loving as a dog. Elain saw every single thing Nesta had done, and understood why.

But she hadn’t hesitated to come. When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed

Elain, who it had gifted with such powers, found her so lovely it had wanted to give her something.

It was Spring, and yet it wasn’t. / Distant—because on the estate, nothing bloomed at all. The pink roses that had once climbed the pale stone walls of the sweeping manor house were nothing but tangled webs of thorns. The fountains had gone dry, the hedges untrimmed and shapeless. The house itself had looked better the day after Amarantha’s cronies had trashed it. Not for any visible signs of destruction, but for the general quiet. The lack of life. / No whisper of sound behind him. On any acre of this estate. Not even a note of birdsong. / This place was a tomb.

And though he roams these lands, he does not see or care for the neglect he passes, the lawlessness, the vulnerability. Even his manor has fallen into disrepair, half-eaten by thorns, though rumors fly that he himself destroyed it.”

And too bad the lord who ruled these lands was a piece of shit.

But Elain … The Spring Court had been made for someone like her.

But yes, Feyre—there can be High Ladies. And perhaps you aren’t one of them, but … what if you were something similar?

Elain is wise, observant, loving, prefers to handle things in a diplomatic way rather than throwing tantrums, is friendly to almost everyone, is liked by many, was blessed by the Cauldron, and had an upbringing that did expose her to the world of Lords and Ladies and an upper class society.

I have no doubt Lucien will stand beside Elain and help fill in the spaces where it is needed. For now he'd have a better understanding of Prythian as a whole and it's military forces and they would make an incredible team. But I don't know that I see him as the magic chosen High Lord of Spring considering he is currently set up as High Lord of Day (which might not be for centuries). Maybe he'll end up as Interim High King for the war ahead but there will be peace at some point and he'll need something to do until he takes over for Helion.

The missing link to it all is Spring because Tamlin is not the ruler Prythian needs him to be (it actually doesn't sound like he was ever the ruler Prythian needed him to be: "It was what, long ago, he’d once thought life at Tamlin’s court would be.")

Rhys may have been chosen as High Lord of the Night Court by the magic however he made a 19 year old female with no proper schooling and who hated the fae one year prior, his equal. A female who originally looked down on the residents of Velaris for hiding away during Amarantha’s reign (Rhys having to remind her his people were blameless). He made it so her word is law just as his.

Rhys is the most powerful High Lord in the history of Prythian however even his power does not exceed that of the will of the Mother / Cauldron. Fate / Destiny has already chosen the three Archerons to be of importance to the future of Prythian. One High Lady of Night with powers to match that of its most powerful High Lord. One sister with the Power of Death who changed the course of Illyrian history by helping to lead an all female fighting unit and the remaining sister with a future not yet known but with many hints at having the ability to restore a broken Court. A female who the Cauldron blessed and found worthy and who by definition would be the equal and match in every way to Lucien, the eventual heir to another courts throne.

[venting-system]

TW Suicidal ideations and shit

Hi. I don know if this is even the right topic or anything, but we've been really stressed this month and no one is talking to us and we are alone and i've been so fucking upset out of my mind. Ive been pushed to the point where ive seeked out someone online, which is ur blog, to vent to.

U can post this if u want. Or delete this. I dont know anymore, no one ever listens to us anymore.

Our only best friend we feel close to blocked us on instagram and we dont fucking know why. We didnt do anything. He knows we are alone, he knows we dont have anyone, he knows he's my only best friend, and we have lost hair from stress, our paranoia and anxiety has been through the roof, and we have unfortunately even resorted to unhealthy means of doin certain things, and I have worried so so so so SO FUCKING MUCH because of this.

I am front stuck. Our host/boss hasnt fronted all month and we are all worried he is starting to give up. We have already lost all of our friends, they have all left us, in the past they damaged our ex-host and its the same fucking shit happening again

We graduated this year and have no idea what to fucking do with ourselves, our existence feels meaningless and we dont have anyone, and with our only best friend BLOCKING US FOR NO FUCKING REASON is pushing us to our limits to the point where we want to kill ourselves again

It dont help the fact we have untreated psychosis and NPD that is affecting us the most, and questioning BPD and schizophrenia We are severely mentally ill with no help and no therapy because we cant afford therapy and we are deathly afraid of the doctors because they will find out we are physically not a human

Us being physically a android and celestial/otherworldly being ALSO adds onto our massive problem, its one of the many reasons we cant connect to humans but we were created to be perfect, our Creator loves us and its come down to the point where hes been the only one here for me to comfort me while im fronting

We feel so alone, so broken, we are a broken machine beyond repair, no one will love us, we were supposed to be a amazing fucking creation but these humans broke us

These humans broke us over and over and fucking over again

We dont want to exist anymore, we want to return to our Creator and leave this universe forever

Sorry if this seems like a bit much but anyway if you dont care just delete this im screaming into a void at this point begging for at least someone to hear me

-The Corporate Tower

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

hi. can i share something. its pretty personal...its sad but also a message of hope.

so. ive been freaking out rly bad about attending this bladee show tomorrow, august 6th. the real reason for this is not just my ocd and social anxiety but also.. last year on august 6th my really good friend died. they were going by the name saint at the time. i only knew them online but we were extremely close since around 2014. we would talk often, and in-depth, bcus we both had extensive interest in metaphysics, god, angels, etc. and we both had dead parents, specifically dead from illness, so we rly deeply related to each other on those matters. they were like 9 years older than me, so i looked up to them as an older sibling. it absolutely shattered my heart when i found out they died because i know it was an accident. i think they OD’d on fentanyl cus they had been posting about relapsing shortly b4 they died. but i dont know for sure, there’s no obituary for them since they don’t have parents or family. i have cried about it every day for a year.

when i saw what day the bladee show was, i felt a million feelings at once, like, oh my god, is this some kind of orchestrated angel event? saint had the most unwavering faith, they believed in angels more than anyone ive ever met, there was no doubt in their mind. we would talk about our synchronicities constantly. it was our fav thing to discuss. they were so validating of my experiences. so in a way, i rly feel like, their angel is escorting me to this show as some sort of gift for making it thru the past year. ive been going thru my saturn return on top of grieving their death, and idk, its just been one of the worst times in my life, ive never been closer to giving up. the timing of this show rly makes me feel like saint is blessing me. bladee, saint and I are all life path 9s who r obsessed w metaphysics n spirituality, which adds to the meaning of this synchronicity for me.

the reason ive been so terrified to attend the show is because i keep having ocd freakouts that someone is going to die or that, like, this date is evil and tainted or soemthing. like literally to the point that ive spent a few entire days this past week just crying in my bed because im so terrified of losing anyone else in my life. but as the show gets closer, i am realizing i just need to trust god and believe that im allowed to enjoy myself. believe that saint’s angel is protecting me and my loved ones, just like they have every day for the past year. they have sent me so many signs, and ive known a lot of dead people but never have i received so many obvious signs from anyone, even my own father. it makes me wonder if saint graduated the rebirth cycle, since they were a 9, and they brought so much goodness to this world. i think they graduated and are now a very powerful angel forever.

its been so hard to go on without them. they were my grief councellor fr. there were some years of my life where they were one of the only people i talked to because no one else could understand. they loved POSTING, we met on tumblr and they were always so supportive of the way i express myself. after they died was when i started drawing and posting on here again bcus i knew i had to honor them this way. i cant put into words how much their friendship impacted me and i wish i could do more, i wish i cld plaster their face onto every wall and scream from the rooftops “THATS MY FRIEND AND I LOVE THEM!!!!!!!!!!!”. god i am going to cry so much at the bladee show, i know they’ll b rite there on my shoulder the whole time.

if u read all this, thank you. it weighs on me massively n i try not to show it too much online but man. i have been a mess. n sometimes i just wanna spill my guts. i cld say so so much more about my dear friend but i’ll leave it at this for now. im praying that the show goes well tomorrow and everyone makes it there safely. if u guys cld pray for me too id rly appreciate. i rly feel like saint is with me and im allowed to have hope now. i love you saint. thankyou for posting so much so i have plenty to look back on. <3

[mindmeltonabun-blog]

Doom At Your Service: Analysis & Theories for EPs 9-10

Anyone mentally exhausted from watching DAYS? Well, you’ve come to the right place where I do the thinking for you, so you don’t have to! As always, if you have any questions, feel free to click on the ask question button! Happy Readings !

The Contract Revisited

While reviewing the contract, I realized there was something major that I had completely missed! Anyways let’s go over the contract again to clear up some confusion.

The Contract is as follows:

1) Dong Kyung must ask for Myul Mang to destroy the world before she dies (It could be rephrased as Dong Kyung must ask for Myul Mang to destroy the world before her tentative expiration date)

2) During Dong Kyung’s last 100 days, Myul Mang will prevent her from feeling any pain

3) Myul Mang has to grant her one real wish

4) If Dong Kyung breaks the contract (does not wish for the world to be destroyed) then the person she loves the most will die

If Dong Kyung does not violate the contract as in she wishes for the world to be destroyed, the person she loves dies anyways because you know.... the world is non existent. If Dong Kyung does violate the contract, meaning she does not wish for the world to be destroyed, the person she loves dies too because her doom is transferred to them. Some have also wondered whether she can has to ask for the world to be destroyed in order to get her one real wish to be granted. In my opinion, I don't think so. I think she can still get her one real wish to be granted regardless of whether she wishes for doom upon the world or not. Other things to note is that nothing will happen to Myul Mang if he does not stick to the terms of the contract (i.e keeps Dong Kyung pain free and granting her one real wish) because as Dong Kyung said "If I violate" not "If either you or I violate".

Now something to pay close attention to is #4. In Ep 2, Myul Mang had said he would take Dong Kyung’s doom (brain cancer) and transfer it to someone she loves. This is the part I missed! I’d thought that all Myul Mang was doing was transferring the death that was meant for her, not that he was actually removing her source of death which was her brain cancer. Therefore, if Dong Kyung breaks the contract, she will live because her brain cancer is removed and is subsequently transferred into the person she loves, causing them to die instead. I feel incredibly stupid for missing this important piece of info. In light of this new info, I will therefore retract my previous theory that Dong Kyung’s one wish will be to cure her brain cancer.

For those who were confused by that scene of Dong Kyung going to the beach and staying away from everyone, here are my thoughts on that. Dong Kyung was trying to find a loophole. The loophole was that she was planning on violating the contract while protecting the people she loves. This means that Dong Kyung was planning on ending herself at the beach (you can't wish for doom upon the world if you're already dead) and accepting her doom (her doom can't be transferred to anyone else because she accepts it in herself).

Who’s Going to Get Dong Kyung’s Brain Cancer and Die?

I recently had a eureka moment a few days ago before Eps 9-10 aired that led me to formulating a new theory -- it's actually Dora who will inherit Dong Kyung’s brain cancer and die. Let’s think through some things first, “the person you love the most will die”. The most obvious choice is Myul Mang. However, if you think about that statement in a more abstract way, you can see that if Dong Kyung loves her life, then the person who will die is Dora. Remember that Dora is basically the personification of life.

To further add evidence that supports this theory, I present to you Exhibit A, Dora’s massive nosebleed. We know Dong Kyung has a rare type of brain cancer and it’s located in her frontal lobe. As days pass, the brain tumor is growing or metastasizing. In theory, the tumor could grow into nearby areas such as her nasal cavity and cause Dong Kyung to have nose bleeds (FYI: In real life, I’m a scientist with experience in the field of oncology and most of the time brain tumors don’t grow outside of the brain. It can happen, but it is very rare!). Now, think about the events that occurred before Dora's nose bleed. For example, Dong Kyung was out and about enjoying her time with Myul Mang and her family and friends. Essentially, Dong Kyung was beginning to love her life. This causes Dora to suffer because she is taking in Dong Kyung's illness into herself. Subsequently, this leads to Dora experiencing some of the symptoms of Dong Kyung's brain cancer (e.g nose bleed). Thus, as Dong Kyung is beginning to live, Dora is beginning to die.

Exhibit B: Adventures of Pinocchio. At the end of the story, the Fairy (Dora) heals an ailing Geppetto (Dong Kyung) as a reward for Pinocchio (Myul Mang) becoming a good boy. Following this, we don’t hear much about what happens to the Fairy except that she’s in laying in a hospital on the verge of death. It is implied that in order to heal Geppetto, the Fairy had to take his illness into herself. Afterall, nothing is without consequences, someone must pay so that others can be happy. Much like the story of Pinocchio, Dora is doing the same thing as the Fairy. Dora is taking in Dong Kyung’s illness so that Dong Kyung can freely love her son, Myul Mang, without consequences (e.g Myul Mang dying).

Exhibit C: Dong Kyung walking around like she didn’t have brain cancer while in seclusion. You would think that since she didn’t see Myul Mang to recharge, she would be experiencing some severe symptoms, but nope she was walking around as if she was cured! I wonder where her cancer went.......DORA!

Exhibit D: Dora telling Dong Kyung to be madly in love and live. Basically Dora saying, "Love my son and live, don't worry about your brain cancer or him dying because I'm taking care of it."

Why Dora Didn't Want Myul Mang To See Her

For those wondering why Dora didn’t want Myul Mang to see her, here are my two cents. One explanation is that Dora probably didn’t want him to figure out that she was inheriting Dong Kyung’s brain cancer. It would’ve made him feel guilty to see that his mother was willing to take on even more pain just so he could be happy. Another explanation is that Myul Mang still has a lot of growing up to do (to become human). Dora didn’t want him to get the idea that he’s out of the clear just yet. Meaning if Myul Mang had found out that Dora was doing this for him then he would’ve thought life was a breeze now and have no further motivations to want to grow, thus ruining Dora’s plan for him (to grow up to become a good human). There’s no better motivation to make someone grow than the thought of their love ones dying.

Final Theory on Dong Kyung’s Wish

In my previous post, I had discussed that without knowing the limits of what one could or could not wish for, it was difficult for me to accurately predict what Dong Kyung’s wish would be. However, in this week’s episode, I was finally given the limits: the wish must be a wish that is doom in nature. I thought to myself, what could be a good thing to end? Oh, that’s right, Myul Mang’s immorality. Dong Kyung must say “I wish for your immortal life to end” or something along those lines. The combination of Dong Kyung’s wish + Myul Mang’s willingness to sacrifice himself for her + Dora’s plant = the rebirth of Myul Mang into a real boy....oops I mean real hu-man.

The Ending of DAYS

So, what kind of ending will DAYS have? Prepare yourselves. I think it’s going to be a bittersweet ending because it goes with the one of the main themes DAYS which is dualism. I think Myul Mang will be reborn as a human, but still have his doom responsibilities (so more like a fake human). He will probably end up becoming like Dora in the sense that he gets to experience the cycle of life and death over an infinite amount of time. Dong Kyung won’t be reborn in his next life cycle (remember Myul Mang tells that crazy lady there’s no afterlife; humans only have this one life). I guess the notion that the love he and Dong Kyung share will always be with him and forever serve as a shining beacon even in his loneliest days is sweet, but still I want a happy ending!!!

Now excuse my language, but to hell with dualism and what is logical! I want a happy ending where Myul Mang becomes human, lives with Dong Kyung, and when he dies that’s it. No coming back to doing his doom job in a different life. Dora can create another herald of doom. Dora did it once before and she could do it again lol. Or if Myul Mang must come back in a different life, at least allow Dong Kyung to be reborn at the same time. I mean you can grow the same plant again…. EVER HEARD OF PROPROGATION DORA?!! Metaphorically speaking, if Dong Kyung is a sunflower, then wait until she dies, harvest her seeds and grow her again…. it’s that simple Dora!!!

Some Thoughts on the Writer of DAYS

The writer (Im Meari) of DAYS is at best, pretentious and at worst, derivative. She’s more or less just rehashing the works of other great philosophers (Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, Deleuze, etc). She presents DAYS as a collection of major philosophical concepts with the intention to differentiate herself from that of other kdramas writers. She goes onto placing great stress on the idea that in order to innovate or bring about a new beginning, one must deviate from the norm, yet she herself does not diverge from the ideas of other philosophers. She does not present any philosophy of her own. In this aspect, she is a hypocrite to the very ideas she tries to preach. Oh well, to each their own. Who knows, maybe my opinion of Im Meari will change by the end of the series. Anyways, I’m still here for the romance between the actors and actresses and solving mysteries!

Ep 11 Preview Predictions

Here are my predictions for Ep 11 based off of the preview, they may or may not be correct !

Dong Kyung takes back the bracelet from Myul Mang after their conversation on the beach. Honestly, I’m growing tired of this whole giving/taking the bracelet type situation lol.

Dong Kyung enjoys a nice vacation with Myul Mang on Jeju island.

Dong Kyung returns from the vacation because she finds out that her aunt is sick (probably from worrying about Dong Kyung). Dong Kyung beats herself up about it.

Dong Kyung is sick again (probably from hating life...remember that I had theorized that the more Dong Kyung loves her life, the sicker Dora will be become) and Myul Mang in his desperation pleads with Dora to help him, but Dora’s version of helping him is to …. surprise surprise… teach him another lesson. The lesson is that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side and that Myul Mang and Dong Kyung complete each other for the better. Dora shows Myul Mang what their lives would've been like if they had never existed in each other’s lives.

Dong Kyung having never experience any kind of suffering would live a healthy life but become the most unappreciative and spoiled person ever. She may go on to finding that life was pretty meaningless and would want to put an end to it all. And Myul Mang having never met Dong Kyung wouldn't have any motivation or desire to grow as a person and so he would remain stagnant. And who knows… maybe at some point, that Myul would’ve became so angry with humans that he would personally go around killing every last one of them.

[seoracle]

DRIVERS LICENSE; i

Pairing: Bang Chan x Idol! Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fake Dating! AU, Angst, Lovers to Enemies(?), Occasional Pining, Comedy, S for potential smut(??)

Summary: Y/N has become an overnight sensation with ‘Drivers License’, Breaking records left and right...But what if the press gets wind of the ill-matched lovers and their company decide it’s the perfect attention ploy?

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Swearing (a lot near the end), Drinking mention

A/N: this was meant to be a drabble... now it’s becoming a series...i’m sorry

“...and the winner of Inkigayo today is...Y/N with ‘Drivers License, Congratulations!”

You step towards the center of the stage and take the trophy and bouquet from a rookie idol, who flashes a bright smile at you, but you can see the envy in his eyes. You once had that same hunger and ambition that he seems to reek of, it’s a reminder of how far you’ve come.

Taking the mic, you begin to sing a more sultry and edgier vibe than usual, which seems to gather more screams from fans than usual. You remember what Seulgi taught you and gaze at the camera lens with a subtle pout, trying to capture the angst of the song in your gaze.

It feels ridiculous, feigning emotions you no longer feel, singing a song you begged the company not to put out in a corset fitted shirt that’ll leave your ribs sore and reddened. It’s pathetic and cliche, you quite literally sold your soul (well, heart) for fame. 

“Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street…”

Everyone behind you waves at the camera, signalling the show is ending. You leave last, taking several confetti bits for your scrapbook, which is the only thing keeping you from remembering this is all real. 

Backstage, Iris and San are waiting in your dressing room, they greet you with proud grins and slaps on the back. 

“Well, if it isn’t miss twelve...no, thirteen wins in two weeks.” San praises, enveloping you in a hug.

“Could be thirteen by tomorrow~” Hums Iris in a sing-song tone.

A groan leaves your lips, while slumping into an uncomfortable chair. You tune out their excited plans for your makeup and hair tomorrow, San says something about an end of year Award show.

All you want is to go home to your empty dormitory and sleep.

When you finally arrive to the ‘comfort’ of your ‘studio apartment’ (box room), it isn’t long before you strip down to your pyjamas and aggressively rub off the layers of makeup that seem to cling to every pore and fine line of your face. The cold air from the fan soothes the aching of your body from your strict workout routine. You stay awake until 4am, reading comments from netizens and replying to fans on your fancafe, it  was hard not to become obsessed with checking what people thought; whether they loved or loathed you.

[+184 -93] Y/N is talented, but they look devoid of emotion since last week...maybe singing a song so personal isn’t a good idea….what if the person it’s about hears it…..

User FYL**8 was right, it had become draining trying to convey emotions you’d long let go of. Your debut song was fresh and fun, it didn’t garner much attention but at least you hadn’t had to fake emotions and relive your first heartbreak.

Although the memories of the breakup didn’t hurt as much, the happiest ones were the most painful. The feeling of ignorance, thinking he meant forever and believing him completely...it was all so distant yet felt a fingertip away.

That night you slept with a heavy heart, remembering what it felt like when he’d hold you close and right and kiss you on the head to soothe your worries. Why did it have to end? Why like that? You try to drift into a nice sleep after another exhausting day but to no avail, thoughts of him are flooding every thought. Has he heard it? There was no way he hadn’t, he loved to check out every ranking song for inspiration or for another artist to add to his monthly playlist. 

Would he get angry? Sad? Laugh at your pathetic feelings? He was right in the end, when it came down to it you only shared your feelings when it was too late.

Stupid Christopher fucking Bang.

It wasn’t often you’d refer to him as Chan, you had met him when he only saw it as another name for himself that he hardly used. Back when his hair had been fluffed up curls that he couldn’t contain and his light freckles weren’t covered by BB Cream. When he didn’t belong to the world and only loved you.

After months of forcing yourself not to, you hastily search “Stray kids Bang Chan + Y/N”, Then “Stray Kids Y/N” and finally “Skz Y/N”. The results are minimal and far inbetween, mostly tweets from fans wishing for a collab and oddly enough one person making edited photos of you and them, which are so convincing you have to remind yourself you hadn’t met them.

Thoughts drift to his friends, the ones who didn’t know Chris was even seeing someone and had been for over a year. They tried to sugarcoat it, say they forgot, it’s hard to keep track when you’re training and all that. 

The sinking feeling you felt when Minho asked how long you’d been together, guessing a month at most. When you did reply, ears burning with embarrassment he coughed and muttered “Oh.’, That had stung.

Everything had seemed so perfect, until you opened your eyes and saw it for what it was.

You don’t end up sleeping much, two hours at most, Then it’s time to get ready and head to the Broadcast Studio for today’s event. All you know is it’s a show about giving advice, the reviews aren’t great but you aren’t allowed to turn anything down because fame is a double-edged sword that you can barely grasp as is.

Iris and San are already waiting for you when you get there, within minutes makeup is being patted into your skin and your outfit is laid out on the chair next to you.

“Sleep more, Y/N-ah, I had to use a double coverage concealer to hide your dark circles.” Iris said in a fretful tone.

“I try, it’s hard being famous.” You reply jokingly, flipping your hair the best you can. Iris smacks your hand away and frantically finds her hairspray.

Within twenty minutes you’re dressed and not one hair is out of place, San pulls you aside with an uncharacteristically stern face. 

“The company have specific goals for sending you here, they want you to delve into a story of heartbreak to comfort today’s victim, while keeping anonymity and remaining as vague as you can.” 

Of course, even a show about helping others is fictional.

You nod solemnly and prepare to go on air, sitting on a cushion next to a popular comedian who doesn’t bother to even look at you. A well-known Streamer is on your other side and you begin polite small talk, which seems to irritate the host.

“We’re on in 3,2….1!” A sharp click follows the director’s queue and the host bursts right into the introduction.

After you’re introduced it’s easy to tune out, you couldn’t give a shit about that stuck-up comedian and the actress to their right. Instead you think of how the fuck you’re supposed to conjure up an emotional performance with little to no time to prepare.

‘My ex-boyfriend hid me for almost two years’ no, not even worthy of a cheap gossip magazine. ‘I thought my boyfriend loved me, turns out he loved his career more’ Maybe...but you sound too needy. 

“Today’s guest is Lee Chaeun of Suwon! Tell us your story, please.” 

You turn to look at the guest who walks onto the set and sits at the head of the pillow mats. She’s clearly a young girl, her baby face is covered by face-framing layers of shiny black hair and her eyes are already glassy.

“Last year, I began dating my crush after years of admiring him from afar...Everything seemed so perfect until last week….He dumped me by text message saying he needed space and now he’s with someone new..” Chaeun bursts into tears and the host fakes a sympathetic face and passes her a box of tissues.

“Ah, you’re young...you don’t know anything yet. This is a normal phase for teenagers, men realise themselves and break girls down so they become beautiful women. It’s just a case of a little girl not wanting to grow up!” Chimes in the Comedian, who talks about his falsities as if they’re facts.

The audience erupts into laughter and the heartbroken teenager lowers her head in embarrassment. Which only makes you more enraged, Who told that guy he was funny?

“Chaeun has every right to be upset!” You exclaim, cutting through the laugher like a hot knife. “When a relationship ends when everything seems alright for one person, it's cruel. Being blindsided isn’t a joke. It hurts and she deserves closure, and to move on someday to a better person..What happened to her shouldn’t happen to anyone!”  You barely register a gentle hand on top of yours, far too surprised by the fact there are tears dripping down your face. Crying wasn’t an option, so you pull yourself together and apologise to Chaeun and the host you cannot stand.

“Y/N, You seemed personally moved by Chaeun’s story, have you experienced a painful breakup?” The host asks curiously.

“You could say that,” You begin with a wry smile. “I was with someone who lived a double life, they were completely different when they were with other people...Things ended when I was still planning for future dates...it made me realise how fake they were.”

The guests all nod and you squeeze Chaeun’s hand, she smiles at you seeming relieved that she isn’t the only one who has felt this kind of pain. 

Everything goes smoothly after that, other guests chime in and the actress that seemed snobby is openly discussing her ex vomiting all over her Valentinos. You can’t help but wonder if the company really suggested this, or if it was divine intervention (Choi San, your manager). 

You don’t feel so alone anymore, everyone is guaranteed several things, two being love and heartbreak of some kind. 

“Thanks to singer Y/N and actress Sojung, Chaeun was able to feel a little better...Thank you for joining us on ���Help No Counsellor!’, Join us next week when…’

“Choi San, you sneaky bastard.”

He tries to act surprised but a shit-eating grin soon overtakes his acting, Iris shakes her head and zips her makeup bag closed. It isn’t long until you’re all at The Min’s enjoying red bean bread and warm tea.  “What does inept even mean? I’m assuming it’s a good thing because Wooyoung kissed me after saying it.” San mentions, his lips curving upwards at the fond memory.

“I’d have to agree with Woo, it fits you perfectly.” You reply, circling around his question while Iris tries not to choke on her food.

Fits of laughter die down when you spot a familiar face, Lee Mijoo. 

Her blonde hair flows down her back in loose curls and her soft eyes seem to enchant everyone, admittedly even you for a short time.Behind her is a slightly taller figure dressed in all black and your stomach drops.They don’t seem to notice your presence, so you decide to use this valuable time to hide behind a menu. 

San and Iris try to play along best they can, but it is quite distressing that all of this has happened so suddenly, with no prior warning. But he did bring you here, a lot. So it’s amusing to see his date ideas haven't changed. 

As he’s walking past you he pauses, and you want to shrivel into a hole and die, He’s clearly recognised you but can’t be 100% sure due to The Min’s menu covering your entire face. 

“Y/N?” 

Shit. You cannot hide from this.

Slowly taking the menu away and placing it down on the table you smile at him, maybe a little too forced but it’s the best you can do. His hair is blonde now, his curls are long gone but his smile is as genuine as ever. 

Stupid Christopher Bang and his stupid ‘I-totally-didn’t-break-your-heart’ attitude.

“Chan, nice to see you. Still obsessed with their double shots?” You humoured, he seemed grateful for that.

“Oh, absolutely...and I see you’re still not saving any bean bread for anyone else.” 

You laugh, it’s a bittersweet one at best but nevertheless it’s a laugh.

'Well it’s great to see you again, I’d love to exchange numbers if that’s alright?” 

Without thinking you nod and oblige him, much to your friend’s disappointment which is evident by their glares. Mijoo exchanges smiles with everyone, who could hate her? She was funny, kind hearted and beautiful in every aspect. 

When they finally leave to their outside seats you breathe a sigh of relief and sink into the chair.Iris strokes your hair and San grabs more snacks to go, the walk home isn’t peaceful. It’s awkward and silent, which only makes your head spin more. When you drop off Iris you know a lecture is coming, San hates doing it but you know he tells you what you need to hear, even if it hurts.

“Look, I’m happy you were able to brush off all the hurt today but earlier on you were crying about….this. Don’t give him the power to hurt you twice.”

“You’re right, thanks Sannie.” You reply, taking his arm and smiling at the warmth of his (Wooyoung’s) fuzzy coat. 

Once San leaves and you get inside, it’s a matter of minutes before you hop in the shower and get rid of all the hairspray and mascara that’s been making you itch all day. The warm water soothes away your nerves and the impending frostbite from being outside in the cold for far too long. 

Once you feel clean and somewhat scalded you step out onto warm fluffy towels (cheap warm fluffy towels with holes in them) and get situated for bed.

Just as you exit the bathroom your phone rings and you answer immediately, it’s probably Iris wanting you to play a new Among Us mod with her. 

“Iris?”

“Uh, no, Chris.” 

“Oh.” is your initial reply, why would he call you at midnight?

“Where you asleep? I’m sorry I’ll call back another ti-”

“No!” You interject, much too eagerly. “No...it’s fine. I’m not even in bed yet.”

“Oh” He sounds relieved, much the opposite of you.

“I just wanted to congratulate you...The song, it’s great. What’s it like actually singing one you wrote?”

“Great,” You admit with a smile he can't see, “It feels...genuine. I Couldn't stand the thought of giving the song away.”

“I can see why.” He replies in an unreadable tone.

“Did it make you uncomfortable? Me singing...about-”

“No, why would it?” He cuts in, he sounds slightly agitated.

“Look, Chan, I’m sorry. I should’ve texted you, well I did but you changed your number. But it’s my story too, okay? I needed to heal somehow.”

Minutes pass with no answer, as if he’s trying to think of exactly what to say without getting more irritated or to spare your feelings.

“When did I become Chan?” His voice comes out wavering,and it hurts you.

“That’s what everyone calls you now, you’re not just Chris the trainee anymore.” You reply in a gentle way, trying to ease the building tension.

“But to you, when did I stop being Chris?”

“Probably when you broke my heart,” You deadpan, before adding a ‘kidding’ and bullshit reason.

“You weren’t kidding, but you broke mine too. Don’t make me the bad guy.”

This had taken you aback, you had been in a perfectly happy relationship for almost two years and then he changed his mind, said he wasn’t happy and it wasn’t your fault. When the fuck did you break his heart?

“When exactly did that happen?” You query, “Before or after Mijoo?”

Chan lets out a dry laugh, “Don’t talk about what you don’t understand.”

“Well what does it matter? You never told me shit anyways.” You snapped.

“That’s because you wouldn’t fucking listen. Maybe to you it was all sunshine and roses but I was struggling, I changed and outgrew us. I didn’t want to but you were stuck in dreamland where we’d debut at the same time and live happily ever after. I realised it wasn’t going to happen and set you free so you wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” You bark,”Fucking embarrassed of what exaclty? I left that shithole you call your company by choice and worked my way up. I’m not embarrassed, but you should be. You’re a fucking sellout Christopher Bang.”

Before he can reply you end the call and throw your phone at the wall, it would’ve broken only for the forty dollar case the store assistant convinced you to buy. You burst into tears just like you had that night when it all came crashing down. He must’ve loved seeing you in pain, because he keeps doing it even now.

That night, you wish for everything to go back to a time before him and the heartbreak that followed.

It’s early on a Friday when you’re called into a board meeting with the CEO, Director and San, who looks like someone stepped on his clay masterpiece. You still haven’t been told anything and as the minutes pass by you wonder if they found out about you getting drunk at Club Suran several weeks back. What if someone saw San there too? What if–

Suddenly the doors open and in walks JYP’s CEO, followed by several others and finally Chris. He looks as confused as you, but you quickly look away before he spots you. Last night was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t need anymore reminders or conversations with him.

“Dispatch has sent us several photos of you two together, spanning several years.” Your CEO announces, an Executive pulling the photos up on the screen behind her. “Including one from yesterday.”

“That was a coincidence, we broke up a long time ago.” You admit, she seems satisfied with your answer and nods, which makes you remember that damned dating ban you have.

“Usually, we’d shoot down these rumours immediately...but this could be quite beneficial to both Stray Kids and Y/N.” JYP’s CEO adds, “Stock prices have shown a rise for both of your albums, and real time searches are at an all time high.” 

“I have a girlfriend.” Chan states, arms folded. “So that’s out of the question if you’re implying we fake a relationship.”

“Look Bang Chan,” Begins one of the Advisors, “It’s all for show, we’ll plan every detail and your girlfriend will keep her mouth shut if she knows what's good for her. Frankly, our sales aren't what they used to be and you need this, if you want complete musical and artistic control.”

Chan takes a while to think, you know this is all he’s wanted. Control over everything he and the boys put out there, with no censorship or edits by anyone else. Your CEO assures you you’ll also benefit from the agreement, including your debt fully cleared and money in your bank account as soon as you sign on the dotted line.

“How long does this last?” You ask, pen in hand.

“Twelve months, then you’re free again.” 

Chan looks to you for conformation and you ignore him, signing it and standing up to leave. You only stop to sign more formalities and then you and San head back to your local coffee shop. 

“Well, you sure have a funny way of moving on.”

[anistarrose]

hello, my love (ao3)

a slightly late @taznovembercelebration fic for the day 19 prompt “established relationship,” albeit in possibly the least conventional sense of the phrase. in other words, this is the culmination of a lot of Blupjeans feelings I couldn’t not write about any longer

*

It — it feels wrong to say I’ll miss you, but —

No, I get it. It’s gonna be so fucking weird, and I — I know it won’t last forever —

Okay, I — I can’t do it like this. Not if we make it sad. Lup, I love you so much, you know you’re the light of my life and undeath…

Of course, babe.

…and I’ll see you soon.

The world Barry wakes up in is tinted green, obscuring everything besides a few ill-defined silhouettes. His limbs are numb at first, but as… red sparks? run down his arms, the feeling returns as a strange sort of weightless sensation, like he’s floating beneath the surface of a lake.

A few bubbles escape from his nose, and oh shit, he really is submerged in something. Before he can even wonder which way is up, his hand grazes something that immediately tears away — and with it drains out the mystery green liquid, which he’s just going to pretend is water. He staggers onto the floor of a cave, blinking rapidly as he adjusts to the light. It’s definitely a cave; he can feel the cool air on his skin and the bare rock beneath his feet — so why is it so bright?

The answer arrives in the form of a voice, whose owner becomes a little more visible to him with each blink of his eyes.

“Care for a towel? Actually, I’m giving you one whether you want it or not, ‘cause if you die of hypothermic shock after everything we’ve gone through to get here, that’s just gonna be awkward.”

She’s beautiful, he knows before he can truly see evidence of the fact. There’s so much care in her voice that her joke can’t disguise, and the towel she slings over Barry’s shoulders is warm, but not as warm as her hands. This feels like the correct moment to freak out over being, as far as Barry can tell, completely buck naked aside from the generous towel gift — but instead, his attention is captivated by his companion, who in complete contrast to himself, seems to be more clothes than body as she comes into focus.

It doesn’t feel right to say she’s wearing her red robe — it’s more like she embodies it, as it moves subtly to indicate her posture, her emotions, rather than to conceal them. What little of her that isn’t a robe is ablaze, but not violently — if Barry only had one word to describe her, he would simply say warm.

Her eyes are negative space amidst the flames, darkness where one would expect unbridled light, but there’s nothing sinister about them — more of a fascination, if anything, evident as she locks her gaze with Barry’s.

He’s been staring, hasn’t he? And she’s been staring at him.

He expects the sheer embarrassment of this whole situation to catch up to him any second, but it just doesn’t hit him. There’s nothing uncomfortable about sharing the room with her.

“Hi,” he says, giving a little wave. “I don’t know how I got here, but… I like your robe.”

She bursts into laughter, illuminating the cave in an ever-changing pattern of red, orange, and pink — and Barry can’t help but wonder if there are a few tears in the mix too, given how hard it is to tell on a face made out of fire.

“Oh, babe. Oh, Barry. Of course you would.” She brings a spectral finger to Barry’s face, evaporating a droplet of water with a single touch, but the warmth that rushes to Barry’s cheeks has nothing to do with the temperature of her hands, only her touch itself. “Sit tight for a second, babe. I’m gonna grab something you’ll like.”

Babe? He’s paralyzed for a few seconds, the word echoing in his head as she floats across the room, sifting through piles of scrolls, jeans, and miscellaneous other items that couldn’t be further from naturally occurring in caves. Does she know me? Does she like me?

He’s finished drying himself off by the time she returns, holding a second red robe — and a corporeal one, no less. She drapes it over Barry’s shoulders, and he slips his arms into the sleeves without thinking twice.

It’s cozy, but something about looking down at himself wearing it brings a fuzziness to his mind that’s not nearly as comfortable as the fuzziness of the fabric. He focuses his gaze on the ghostly woman instead — who makes his mind turn to static in her own right, but in a way that’s more than balanced out by the joy of just looking at her.

“See, we both look good in red,” she says with a wink, and Barry feels the temperature of his face rise another degree or two. He’ll wind up on fire like she is, at this rate. “You’ll want to sit down. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. Um, I think… I might be just a tiny bit amnesiac? Like, just a little. ‘Cause I know who I am, but you sound like you know me, and I don’t know you.”

He takes a deep breath, and decides there’s no harm in admitting what she’s surely already noticed. He’s been too confused to try and be subtle. “Also, I definitely just fell in love with you a couple orders of magnitude faster than I thought I’d ever fall in love with anyone, so that’s, uh… cool, but weird?”

The lower half of her face brushes his forehead — not quite solid, but not unpleasant — and he realizes just as soon as it’s over that it must’ve been a ghostly kiss.

“We were gonna ease you into the ‘us being in love and you losing your memories’ thing,” she tells him with a chuckle, and Barry’s too giddy to even wonder what she means by we. “Lay out the groundwork first. We should’ve known better.”

“My bad?” Barry blurts out, and that makes her laugh even harder, until embers are dripping from her eyes like glistening teardrops.

“Oh my god. This must — this must be so much for you, babe, so much to take in. How are you doing it? How are you — taking this so in-stride, and still sounding so much like you, I mean?”

“I mean… I wouldn’t know,” Barry admits. It is so much to take in, and he knows that if he’d woken up here all alone, with no idea how he’d arrived, then he’d be a mess by now — and not the hopeless romantic kind. As it is, he’s holding it together, trying not to think about his headache and taking comfort in the more pleasant of realizations — but he’s still adrift and disoriented, clinging to a figure he can’t remember his reason for trusting. “It — it doesn’t quite feel real, to be honest? Like, I — I believe you, I believe that I loved you — but it’s the forgetting that gets me…”

He can see himself falling in love, but he can’t see himself falling in this kind of love quickly. This soaring feeling in his heart could only be propelled by years of incremental intimacy, years that he can remember none of, years that don’t exist according to the static roaring inside his head. “How could I forget all this?”

She hugs him in a way unlike any hug he can remember, overlapping with the space he occupies until he’s engulfed in gentle flames, and the threads of her robe feel like they’re what’s doing the hugging, having reformed and rewoven themselves around his arms. Not knowing how else to embrace her back, Barry wraps his arms around his own chest, and feels her presence grow warmer still.

He can just barely wrap his mind around the thought that the warmth coming from his own chest might be borne of subconscious familiarity.

“You still have a big obvious head-over-heels crush on me, don’tcha?” she teases, her laughter surrounding him. “Nothing can make you forget that.”

“Yeah, every version of me’s a hopeless romantic. We’ve got that,” Barry admits. “But I — I don’t even remember your name —”

He would know it if he heard it, he’s sure; it’s so close to the tip of his tongue that he’d probably blurt it out instinctively, if only he didn’t always think so hard about his words before saying them. It’s so tantalizingly close, and he wants to know it again, to say it again, more than any other favor the universe could grant him, and doesn’t the universe owe him at least this much —

“Well, I know how to fix that.” She withdraws from the hug, remaining at his side. “And I think it’ll help if you hear it from yourself — if you hear all the truth we can give you, that is.”

She extends a hand, and a simple golden coin flies across the room to land in her palm. It’s embossed with a vaguely familiar rune that Barry can’t translate, but his mind really starts to reel when she places the coin in his hand, and he hears his own voice emanate from it:

Your name is Barry Bluejeans. You are afraid of the dark. Your very favorite thing in the world is swimming in very cold water on a very hot day, but you cannot remember who taught you to swim, or why you’re always so much more scared of the dark at the end of the year.

The beautiful undead woman next to you is named Lup, and as much as it pains you to realize, you have forgotten her, too. There are fundamental truths about the world, about your loved ones, and about yourself that you have been blocked from comprehending — you’ve had more stolen from you than you realize, and there are very few ways to undo it.

Barry, I’m you just moments ago, and I’m about to forget so much. But right now, I remember, and Lup can help you remember too.

Another voice joins the recording — Lup herself, who sounds just slightly different than she has today, just a little less burdened.

If you haven’t guessed from how this nerd talks about me — Her words are punctuated by an affectionate grumble from Barry — we’ve been dating longer than you can imagine. I wish we could just —

You also can’t remember that Lup’s as much of a nerd as you are, Barry, his past self interrupts. You met because you were both nerds.

Oh, come on, you’ll still be smart enough to figure that one out by yourself! But like I was saying, we had a hell of an epic love story I wish we could just tell you — but you wouldn’t be able to understand much of it, and you’d get a headache trying.

So, Barry adds, we thought about what would be the next best thing. And I think we got a pretty good idea.

A classical music piece fades in, beginning with a piano but quickly adding a violin. Barry can’t put a title or a context to the tune, but he recognizes it from the first note and starts tearing up by the third. His fingers tap out a pattern in sync with the piano part before he even realizes they’re doing it, and when he closes his eyes to let the music wash over him, he realizes that the Lup of the present, the Lup at his side, is almost imperceptibly humming along with the violin.

“You’ll remember this again,” she promises, choking up, when the tune eventually fades. “One day.”

Already, the music has stirred ghosts of memories, fleeting emotions, that Barry can almost imagine in context — quiet moments, private conversations that no one could rip away from him because no one else but Lup ever knew they’d happened — and that day feels close, reassuringly so.

Like him falling for Lup again, it feels like an inevitability.

[gabzlovesu]

BNHA OC Concept (10.21.21)

This is my first ever OC, and I just started developing the character so there are some things that I might change. I would love any feedback, advice, or criticism! I'm still new to tumblr so I doubt anyone would see this, but if you do plz like, share, comment, or reblog. Thanks! :)

Name: Imani Matsuzaki

Ethnicity: African American

Age: 21

Quirk: Star-bearer

Hero Name: Nebula

Back Story: She was born in the United States and her parents were happily married until her father went missing during a business trip to Japan. After years of her father being MIA, Imani and her mother move to Japan, which her mother claimed was an “attempt to be closer to her father.” She did not attend a hero school, instead, she was homeschooled by her mother. When Imani reached young adulthood and her mother passed away to an illness, she begins to uncover the mysterious past of her father. However, Imani trying to uncover the past brings the unwanted attention from one of the biggest criminal gangs in Japan, the Yasokawa; the Hero Public Safety Commission catches wind of this ordeal and places Imani in a sort of ‘witness protection’ program, in which she changes her last name to Matsuzaki and receives hero training. The only downside to this is that she must bend at the HPSC’s will and is kept on a tight leash when it comes to freedom. She originally had no plan to become a hero.

II. Quirk Explanation

During the day Imani can use celestial energy from the sun to form star weapons; she can make knives (similar to the Marvel character Dagger), a sword, shield, lasso (which she has equipped at all times with her hero costume), bow and arrows, etc. At night her quirk is stronger, allowing her to generate and shape nebula clouds into creatures for aid in missions or she can add it onto her body as an extension. She can use her star weapons at night as well.

Imani constantly tries to come up with new ways to utilize her quirk: she’s currently trying to master a ‘nebula bomb’ move. Another example of Imani being versatile is using her nebula creatures to move around and fly if need be.

III. Quirk Drawbacks

The animals formed from nebula clouds can only receive a certain amount of damage before they disintegrate. In addition, she has to wait 30 minutes before she can generate another. The nebula aspect of her quirk is ineffective in water, however, the water has no effect on her star weapons. Star weapons and nebula creatures can not be generated at the same time (e.g. she can’t make star weapons if she is using a nebula cloud as an extension of her body she cannot generate a star weapon at the same time, and vice versa; however, she can generate a star weapon if she is only using a nebula cloud for a creature.) She can only generate star weapons and nebula creatures with her hands, therefore, if her hands are preoccupied in some manner (e.g. fighting), then she is not able to utilize her quirk (kinda like how Momo uses her creation quirk).

IV. Quirk Overload

If Imani tries to create another nebula creature too soon she can suffer from a severe headache and/or pass out.

V. Headcanons:

She frequently has vivid dreams that involve the constellations in the sky at that time

On nights with a new moon, she tends to feel depressed but she has been prescribed vitamins to help alleviate this depressive state.

*Please don't copy Imani's quirk, it took forever to think of something original!

[sunnysviolin]

Hibi Ask!

You asked for this ;). I wasn't quite sure where exactly to start so let's start in the dreamworld! in the dreamworld, Basil is how Sunny wants him to be. sweet, cute, and... ignorant. in reality the boy knows too much and will try to talk about it. he's selfless to the point of self-destruction to save people he cares about. fiercely loyal. especially to Sunny. he did horrible things for Sunny's sake. he took years of abuse from Aubrey for something it's heavily implied [1/4

]that Sunny did (photo destruction). he was willing to take all the blame for Sunny's sake. idc if people read this as rom/plat/fam, but he loved him. it's undeniable. when you fight him, Basil is trying to save Sunny. which leads into the next bit. my boy is delusional. he's... very clearly mentally ill and probably always has been. at 12 years old he knew how to tie a noose that was strong enough to work. he has intense paranoia, abandonment issues (likely caused in part by his parents) [2/4]

and delusions. he holds people he loves in such high regard that the idea that Sunny could hurt Mari simply does not compute. his brain makes an explanation for him because he doesn't understand it: it was Something else. Something behind you. Sunny knows he did it which is why the Something behind him manifests as his sister (guilt). I'm not a psychologist so I won't give out any theories on what deals with beyond his obvious anxiety disorder. it's not all negative in Basil though [3/4

like I said he's loyal, sweet, and generous. but he has no standards for himself. he dodges the guilt. he panics when he sees Sunny again. he panics when Sunny's going to move. Basil really just needs therapy so bad. he needs to learn how to value himself and coping strategies. and really, he deserves the chance to be happy and live without the guilt. I swear I could talk about him forever but I already did so I'm gonna stop now while I have a chance. obligatory sorry for rambling haha [4/4] (~🌺 Hibi)

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

I don’t have much to add Hibi!! I’ve been holding onto this deep dive for a bit and reminiscing on it (For anyone who’s still confused Hibi and I were talking the other day about how I don’t really understand Basil’s character and how he’s hard for me to write! and then they offered to send me their perspective and I was like *Eyes Zoom* do it)

I’ve kept this on the side where I keep all of my character understanding stuff but I figured you all would also like to see this!! Hibi....you brilliant genius you!! 

[amariaamaris]

Of Changes and Revelations

I got this idea from the other Marvel and TVD crossover that I did, it is going to be (hopefully) very different. I hope it comes out well and that I do it justice... I’m already working on a second part, I felt that this was getting a little to long! Please let me know what you think and if there are any grammar/spelling/punctuation things that need fixing. Constructive criticism is always welcome. This took me forever, there were so many roadblocks and questioning myself on if I actually wanted to write this. Thanks to my sister pushing me and my imagination running wild with promises of what I can do in the future with this... I decided to go through with it... so enjoy!

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After it’s all said it done; after Esther failing in killing her children, Bonnie’s mother being turned to break the link, Abby bailing (again), Klaus forcing Bonnie to break the spell Esther did... The expulsion of magic that resulted inadvertently saved Finn’s life, knocking out the scooby gang in the process (including most everyone in the town). While also setting fire to anything flammable within the radius of the town (leaving only a select few homes and buildings untouched). It’s safe to say all the white oak is gone... along with multiple buildings.... (oops?) The poor trees are all fried, though luckily they have strong bark, so they’ll survive (it also helps that Bonnie helped to heal them).

All of it coalesces and brings Bonnie to locking herself up in her grams house for as long as she pleases with no acknowledgement of the outside world. She had methodically gone through the house and unplugged the internet, tv’s, shut down her phone, and all other electronics. She just wants to be left alone, Bonnie is exhausted; she’s tired of being used, abused, and taken for granted.

She had found a boundary spell in one of the grimoires to keep those with ill or selfish intent off her property and the fu- away from her (especially certain vampires). In the middle of the week Bonnie left her grams house and went to the school. At the beginning of the week she set up this time to test out of high school.

Bonnie made sure to blend in with the crowd to not be spotted by her “friends”; they may have not seen her, but she definitely saw them. She took the test within three and a half class periods and got the hell out of there. Bonnie drove away like a bat out of hell and made it back to her grams house as fast as she possibly could. She had completely moved into her grams house throughout the one after another of the supernatural shit show that she now calls her life (or rather did call her life). Not like her father was ever around for her to bother staying in his house.

The plus side of testing out of high school is that she can go and get whatever she needs without being worried about being ambushed by her “friends” or the Mikaelson's. Bonnie has also decided that she is going to take all the time that she needs to spend on self-love, working with her magic to learn, and embrace it joyfully. She also has been spending time in meditation and speaking with all of her ancestors. For once in her life, Bonnie Shelia Bennett has finally decided to be selfish and damn the consequences.

Little did she know that her new change would go right along with a huge change that will flip her world on its axis and bring up deeply buried memories.

————

Rudy Bennett knew that this day would come, he knew that eventually they would hunt him down. After all, he did abandon his post, he cut off all contact and went rogue. In doing so, also kept his child away from her culture and her people. He knows that if they find out about her and his lack of parenting, that would sign his fate.

Rudy couldn’t hide his shaking hands as he poured himself a drink and promptly chugged what was in his glass. He did decide that he wouldn’t run or hide, he was going to wait for them to come. He just got done pouring his second one when the lights flickered off; causing a shiver of fear to run down his spine, he could also feel sweat on the back of his neck.

When the lights flickered on, there were two Dora Milaje standing on the other side of his desk. Still as stone holding their vibranium spears, with the king and his cousin standing in between them. Both in different black panther suits (armor?), causing Rudy to gulp. Rudy could feel more sweat break out on his skin as he warily stared at his king.

“D’Kadi Dzube, you’ve been missing a long time.” Rudy or rather D’Kadi watched as both the men tapped on their collars and watched as the mask melted away and showed their faces. Rudy could hear his blood rushing to his ears as he felt himself pale a little. “You were once my father’s most trusted war dog. Then one day, you disappeared without a trace. Just a few months ago we found you... we also found some very interesting information. D’Kadi Dzube you have a daughter that you hid from your people. From my understanding you have been neglecting her as well.”

Rudy could hear ringing in his ears and the blood rushing through his body, he could imagine that he looked white as a sheet. Everything was blurring and before he knew it his eyes were rolling and he fell into darkness.

————

Bonnie could feel something coming to the depths of her bones, it would cause her to pause as her hair would stand up on its ends. Which would lead her to looking out the windows, but there was nothing there. It got to the point where Bonnie decided to add an extra warding to the house rather than the property. Evidently to keep anyone away from the structure of the home, while still being able to enter the yard (only if they pass the wards on the property that is).

Bonnie had started a cute little herbal and vegetable/fruit garden in her backyard, along with some landscaping spanning around the whole house. Along with flowers on both sides of the pathway walking up to the house. Bonnie has never before felt this free and happy. That doesn’t change the fact that she still feels a phantom twinge of pain when she thinks of how her friends haven’t even tried to come visit her. Not. A. Single. One.

Hell! Even Klaus showed up! Not that he could get on the property and it’s not like he was checking up on her... but still! Bonnie lets out an annoyed huff and shakes her head as she focuses back on her plants at the front of the house. She tries to work through her agitation; at her friends, the Mikaelson’s, the Salvatore’s, her parents, her grams for not teaching her from the beginning, at herself for not being smarter and wiser, and Bonnie might as well add the world to the list to. 

She very quickly finds herself falling into a flow of taking care of the plants as everything washes away. Bonnie has found that in many instances doing something like this puts her in a meditative trance that helps to center her. Two hours pass with Bonnie working on her plants, when she hears a car drive up and park on the curb.

Bonnie allows herself to slow down in her landscaping work, but doesn’t turn around - even as she hears the car doors open and shut. She can also hear strangely accented voices talking, both male... but she can sense more people with them. Hearing them coming closer makes Bonnie glad that she chose to wear a wide brimmed straw hat that belonged to her grams (she’s rather not have people recognize her before she can tell whether or not they are threats). 

“Excuse me? Are you the daughter of Rudy Bennett and Abby Bennett....” She freezes, but gives no answer. Bonnie can already feel her magic gathering, ready to motus the hell out of all of the people behind her. Receiving no answer, the people behind her exchange looks, “Granddaughter to Shelia Bennett?” Bonnie feels her agitation spike, causing her to rip off her dirty gardening gloves and throw them to the ground.

Bonnie turns around to look at them, noticing two men that look like cousins, two bald women that have what look to be tribal tattoos on their heads, and a random white man wearing clothing far heavy for how warm it is. Bonnie can practically feel her magic crackling at her fingertips and through her hair. “That depends on who is asking and why...?”

One of the cousins move to step forward, but upon seeing the look on her face, thinks better of it. Though, that didn’t stop him from kindly smiling at her, “My name is T’Challa, this is my cousin N’Jadaka, these two women are Okoye and Ayo, and this is James Barnes. I would like to speak to you about your father.”

Bonnie studies all of them and then flicks her eyes back to T’Challa, before she can respond with something biting, she hears whispers upon the wind. She allows herself to slightly tilt her head to listen better. After a few seconds Bonnie focuses back on T’Challa and the people he brought with him. “I’m not interested in talking about the sperm donor that calls himself my father. I could care less what type of underground cultish mafia he got himself into. If he owes you anything make Rudy deal with it, his problem’s aren’t mine to deal with.”

Bonnie quickly makes her way onto the porch of the house - without turning her back on them (she doesn’t have a death wish) - already knowing that whoever these people are, they aren’t going to let her off easily. N’Jadaka, the man with weird bumps all over his extremely musc- no! Bonnie quickly mentally shakes herself as he snickers with a smirk on his face. “I don’t think I have ever heard someone call people from Wakanda a cult or mafia. The little kitten does have a point cousin.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, “She should be wary, she knows nothing about her father’s history. “

“N’Jadaka...” T’Challa gives him a sharp warning look, not noticing Bonnie moving to open the front door to slip inside. “Where do you think you’re going kitten? We said we wanted to talk that’s what you’re going to let us do!” He moves to go onto the porch, but feels like he hit a brick wall, N’Jadaka also gets a nasty zap throughout his entire body. Causing him to hiss slightly in pain as the group takes notice of the wind picking up and hissing whispers upon the wind (not that they could make out what they were saying). They do notice how Bonnie seems to understand exactly what is being said upon her head whipping around to face the road. All of them watched as she ripped off her hat and lightly tossed it onto the porch swing, they heard the sharp angry hiss escape from her as her green eyes darkened.

The group from Wakanda evenly spaced themselves out as they turned upon hearing a car door slam, they all watch as a long blonde haired young woman walked around the car and onto the property. “Bonnie! Where have you been? We have all been trying to get a hold of you, you haven’t been at school, you haven’t been answering your phone or showing up to practice! We’ve been worried! Honestly Bonnie Bennett you better have a good reason for completely cutting all of us out of your life... who are these people?!” Bonnie stares at Caroline for a few seconds realizing that her chest no longer hurts when thinking of her ex-friends. In fact Bonnie realizes with sudden clarity that there isn’t pain when she thinks of her friends, only white hot fiery fury and looking at Caroline only makes her annoyance and fury rise at the audacity that she had to show up to her grams house unannounced at her house, at her sanctuary.

“Who they are is none of your business Caroline, in fact they were just leaving, like you will be. I’m not particularly in the mood to talk to people that ruined my perfectly peaceful day by arriving unannounced.” Turning her attention to the curious onlookers Bonnie continues “I don’t care to talk about Rudy and whatever shit show he’s gotten himself into,” looking to Caroline “and I don’t want to be forced to listen to lies! I’m well aware that none of you have noticed my absence up until a couple days ago. I’m also aware that none of you actually care for me, all of you just see me as some weapon to be used. Well I’m done being your sword and shield. I want all of you the hell off of my grams property. Do whatever you want with Rudy, it’s not my problem and I want nothing to do with it. Caroline you and the rest of those assholes can shove your lies and demands up your asses. I’m not going to be your quick fix to problems you brought on yourselves. Grow the fuck up and deal with them yourself! Now get the fuck off of my property!”

The front door slams viciously behind Bonnie, whose screaming voice still echoed in the air with whispers following it, the group from Wakanda all had their eyebrows almost to their hairlines. While Caroline’s jaw was dropped almost to the ground in shock and hurt. “You should leave Care-o-line, you’re no friend of hers.” N’Jadaka’s voice quickly pulls her out of it and brings up her misplaced righteous fury. “Oh, really, I am her friend. Who the hell are you? From the way it was looking none of you are friends of Bonnie’s! I’m her best friend!! You had to have done something to upset her, she would have never said something like that or treated me that way! All of you are the ones who should leave!”

N’Jadaka moves to step forward, but James puts his hidden vibranium arm in front of him and says only one thing in a harsh warning tone. “Erik...” Causing Erik to suck on his teeth for a second then back down. While T’Challa steps forward with his hands up in the universal sign of peace. “Miss...” Caroline huffs out her answer to his silent question, “Caroline Forbes!” He immediately gives a soft smile, “Miss Forbes, I believe all of us need to leave Bonnie alone for the time being. If it makes you feel better we will get into our car first, but we will only be leaving after you drive away. She is important to our people and I will not risk something happening.” Caroline works her jaw as the gogs in her brain slowly turn, her eyes sharpen for a few seconds, but she quickly gives in and slowly, dejectedly nods.

None of them notice the whispers on the wind that one small young Bennett witch listens too as they all drive away, with a contemplating look in her eyes.

————

The next day has Bonnie working in the backyard harvesting the herbs, vegetables, and fruits that she needs. Bonnie gives absolutely no reaction to N’Jadaka’s presence as he walks around the back of the house. “You know it’s seen as extremely rude to not only invite yourself to someone’s house, especially not knocking on the front door.” She has to hide her slight smile upon hearing him huff out a laugh, “I’d love to knock on your front door kitten, the only problem is... I couldn’t seem to get on the first step.” Bonnie can sense the question in his words, but chooses to ignore it and continue her work. She can feel him watching her and gets quickly fed up witch a harsh huff Bonnie stops what she is doing, stands up, and turns to face him.

She has to give herself a few seconds to get accustomed to the height difference between the two of them, to put it simply... he dwarfs her. Not only in height, but in sheer muscle mass, she averts her eyes to try and hide the affect he’s having on her. Bonnie decides to chalk it up to the fact that she hasn’t had any direct human contact for a while. “Look N’Jadaka...” “Erik” His interruption causes her to blink, “What?” Erik let’s out a quiet huff while a smirk plays along his lips. “My colonizer name kitten, is Erik. I’d rather go by it than N’Jadaka... has a lot more pride in it than my other name does.”

Bonnie quietly mouths colonizer with a confused look, but decides that they can come back to that later. “Fine! Erik... just...” Bonnie let’s out breath and frowns as her eyes play across the plains of his face and the outdoors. “I don’t know why... but my ancestors like you and they say that I can trust you. Now I’m going to do something that I never do... I’m going to trust my ancestors.” She allows herself to walk up to him and look him directly in the eyes “and if you ever... and I mean ever break that trust. I will personally find a way to kill you, slowly, painfully, and only when your begging for mercy will I kill you... got it?” While she was talking her finger was poking him in the chest to help emphasize her words with a sickly sweet smile upon her face.

Erik gives a slow smile knowing that he shouldn’t find himself turned on by her threat, but he is. He allows himself to carefully grab the hand she was poking him with and holds onto it. Erik chooses to ignore the quiet gasp that escapes her lips... for the moment “You got it kitten, would you like me to explain what you were very unwilling to talk about yesterday with my cousin?” He watches completely fascinated as her eyelashes shadow her eyes while she thinks it over, when she looks up and focuses back on him, she gives a hesitant nod. “Okay, but your helping me with my garden... if we have to talk about something that I would rather never have to think about again, your going to be useful and help.” Her words pull a sharp laugh out of Erik, as he grins and gives a nod in acceptance.

Once she quickly shows him what do to and what to look for, they start working. As they work he explains everything to her, everything hidden from her, everything that her father has done... everything. It completely shatters her, it obliterates everything she thought she knew about her father and his side of the family, everything she thought she knew and understood about herself; it sends her completely into orbit. She doesn’t even realize that she is crying, nor does she realize that she is raging at Erik and upon his body. Her fists swinging to hit his chest as her magic angrily swirls around them. Bonnie feels as though she is shattered into a trillion shimmering atoms being carried away upon the wind. She can’t tell if she will ever find herself... how can she? Bonnie doesn’t think that she can gather the exploded pieces... how can she find them? They have scattered to the wind getting caught in the trees, falling to the streams of water to be carried and caught elsewhere. Bonnie can’t even feel Erik tightly holding her as he somehow carries her inside of her grans house. And eventually, much later into the night, he helps to pull her back together, but for now. He try’s to help hold together what little is left of Bonnie Shelia Bennett.

As her true name echoes through her entire being...

Ahnika...

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I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you think. The second part is on its way! Peace, love, and joy!

[johnkrrasinski]

ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔰

Chapter 1: The Archer & The Prey 

full masterlist // series masterlist

Pairings: dark!Steve Rogers x female!reader

Word count: 4,517

Warnings: sexual themes, kidnapping, stalking. (MUST BE 18+) 

Summary: after the death of your mother, you decided that you were going to do something new to honor her. You chose a perfect camping spot somewhere down South. You thought it was going to be the life-changing vacation that you never had in your life, until Steve Rogers, a man existed in roughness and control all his life, found you.

a/n: this is the dark!steve rogers series that i have promised. this one is going to be much darker than the last one shot fic i posted, so please leave, if you are under 18+. please leave a like and comment. enjoy! 

It had been a long time since you last went on a vacation. You had been taking care of your then sick mother, every day and barely got enough time for yourself between working your humdrum job as an accountant at Stark's Industries and rushing to the hospital every night to your mother to keep her company.

However, it's not your concern anymore now. You had just gone home from attending her funeral. It was bleak and wearisome. You had to deal with your family and friends who put on these fake, mournful faces and pretended that they were heartbroken when they never gave a shit when she was still alive and healthy. They barely took their time to visit her during her hospitalization.

Your mother was your best friend, the only person in your life who truly cared for you and took care of you during your childhood and teenager years, even after you were an adult, your mother still saw you as this little girl who needed some tending after she scrapped her knees.

You were a shy, delicate, and reticent person who kept to herself and didn't keep a lot of companion in your life. You had some classmates from high school and college that you still kept in touch with, you also had some colleagues that you would text with once in a while regarding professional matters.

However, you wouldn't consider them as friends, it wasn't about trust issues or anything severe, it was simply just who you are. You were an introvert who felt much more at ease when you are not surrounded by anyone. But your mother was the only exception, growing up as the only child of a single mother, it wasn't easy to simply let your guard down to anyone. You had learned that when you are alone, you felt less anxious and you'd like to keep it that way. Working at the Stark Industries rewarded you well but it was stressful enough as it is, you wouldn't want to add that pile of stress.

Now that your mother is gone, you've never felt more alone in your life. You walked into your apartment with hands buried in the pocket of your black coat, with your head down, you tried to hold yourself steady as you fumble for your key. You unlocked the door and you stepped into your home. You took a moment to take a deep breath and took a look at your surrounding. You felt helpless. So you took off your coat, went into a shower, and broke down into tears.

You dried yourself off later that night and put on your favorite oversized sweater, you call it your "pity sweater", you've had it in your closet since you were fifteen and every time you hit rock bottom, like the time when you first received the news that your mom was terribly ill and she only had a few more months to live, you decide that to drown yourself in your own self-pity party and of course you'd wear the right outfit to celebrate it.

You laid on your bed later that night, under the opacity of your room, trying to numb the pain by ingesting some sleeping pills, but it didn't help, your eyes are still wide open and you can still hear the resonance of your muffled sobs. Slowly but surely, the seconds turned into minutes, and before you knew it, you were fast asleep, drifting away into the land of dreams.

You are running in the middle of a dark forest, being chased by the wolves with their cuspidate teeth glistening in the murk threatening to devour you. They were running faster than the wind, you were having trouble of trying to outrun them, you felt your energy started to dwindle down, your feet got weaker and cold sweats started to break out of your skin. You were so fixated on running that you didn't realize one of the wolfpacks had caught onto your dress, it was torn away from you and you tripped and your back hit the ground. The last thing you saw was a blue-eyed wolf, gritting its fangs, staring deep into your eyes, with its face closer and closer to yours then everything went black.

The next day, you went back to your work, as usual, your boss, Tony Stark had been generous enough to offer you to take a day off, you refused it at first because if you were left alone one more second doing nothing productive, your mind would start to wander to your mother and you would end up having another breakdown on your kitchen floor. So you had to distract yourself, get your gloomy mind off the tragedy that had befallen on you. Your only escape was work.

It's not like you would hit the bar and order some drinks, it wasn't your thing. It would trigger your anxiety the minute you step foot on the door. To be at peace, all it needed was the companion of your romance novels and some hot chocolate. The concept of dressing up and going home shit faced is a foreign idea to you. It would absolutely be madness if you risked your own comfort zone just to end up in a stranger's car and not remembering a single event that happened last night. Your mother always warned you about being reckless and talking to strange men.

She would always say; "you have to be careful, y/n, there are men who are steadily seeking their next prey. They would lure you into their charm and capitalize on you in their bed. And the next thing you know, you are 4 weeks pregnant and you are going to have to carry that tiny life inside you and raise it on your own."

That's how you were born into this world, actually. You never knew who your father was, and nor did your mother. She was only 23 when she decided to live her life and savor her youth. She was a brilliant young woman who was supposed to have a long, bright future ahead of her. She had graduated from college with a psychology degree and one night, she decided to break out of her shell and accepted her roommate's invitation to go to a party. Little did she know, that party was going to turn her life upside down, forever.

She still walked away with a degree, but there wasn't an ounce of bright future left for her. She had this frail life in her belly depending on her to keep it alive. She had gone to her parents and asked for their help, but they abandoned her. They were filled with rage when your mother told them the jaw-dropping news. They were disappointed in her for being so stupid and negligent. They had high expectations for her. So when your mother begged for their forgiveness, they told her to leave their home and never show her face ever again instead.

Hence, you never knew your grandparents too well either, your mother had shown you some pictures of them, the ones that she still had despite never talking to them again, but she spoke wonderfully about how they raised her right despite their strictness and their unwavering push on her to do better. Your mother was anything but. She took care of you with gentleness and she decided that she didn't want you to live in fear of your own mother.

You loved her more than anything in life. Your mother was your whole world, the one who cured all the rainy days and gave you a secure home when the hurricane in your life was too mighty. Your world was crushed, burned, and taken away when she died. You had to be your own person now.

So you decided to take on Tony's offer of letting a week off. He told you that you need to take your time to mourn and that he didn't need you to be operating his finance when your head was clearly not in the right place. You went home early that day and make yourself some lunch.

You sat on your couch with a bowl filled with cereal in your hands, watching the rerun of Friends. It was the episode where they were going on a ski trip but Phoebe's car broke down. You loved this series and each episode always gave you a good laugh even when you don't feel like it.

It struck an idea in you, what if... You decided to go on a vacation instead of limping around in your apartment, wallowing in self-pity? Maybe it's time for you to get out of your comfort zone and do what might be best for you. It's going to be new and different and scary for sure, but you might never know if you never try. This might help you find yourself and your own inner peace. Your mom would want that for you. She used to always talk about wanting to go camping, especially when she was sick.

She said, "you know when all of this is over and I'm finally free out of this condition, I wanna go camping in the middle of the woods."

You looked up from the book you were reading, with a chuckle you amused her. "Camping, mom? Really? Never knew you were a nature person."

"Oh, I am sweetheart, I used to go hiking and climbing and skiing when I was young. I never really had that chance anymore now that I am older." She lied, she would never say it was because she had to have you that she couldn't go on all these adventures anymore. "The only problem now is that I have to endure this pain a little longer then we can explore the world as long as we want, dear." She chuckled, but her cough interrupted it.

You put down your book on your thighs and immediately reached out her hand.

"Mom, you are gonna get better, I promise. You have to."

You decided to google some camping spots that might intrigue you, you weren't looking for anything opulent or temerarious, just enough to clear your mind off the gloom and to invigorate the spirit in you to go back to work. Maybe, you'd try to meditate in the middle of the woods, yeah, you've always wondered about that, would it really be effective? This might be the time to discover the answer. You can picture it, the fresh air encompassing you, the sound of the birds chirping as if they were welcoming you, and there wouldn't be a single soul that could intrude your solitude.

After doing some research, you decided that you have found the perfect spot. A green-covered land somewhere down South, you did a little deeper digging into its whereabouts, and you took a screenshot of it and bookmarked the page.

That night, you started to feel like the match inside you was lit. After days of being engulfed in grief, you started to feel hope, just a sheer of it. But it was enough to make you feel like you weren't so lost and hopeless. You decided to have an early night after you finished watching Friends and get yourself some rest. You are going to wake up early to pack and prepare yourself to leave this godforsaken town for a few days. You were excited to see what tomorrow holds.

The next morning, you took a shower and got yourself ready. You had packed just enough to last a few days in the woods. You brought your camping tent with you, the one your mother had bought but never actually got to use it. You put your travel bag in the trunk of your car and you sat on the driver's seat to heat up the engine.

You put on some relaxing Jazz music to console your ears and to prevent your thoughts from drifting to your mother. You were going to focus on the roads and what was waiting ahead of you. The soft hum of the engine soothed you. You were savoring the crisp air of Autumn. Fall was your favorite season, the way everything seems chill and slow, it wasn't loud and harsh like summer, but it does feel like a faint new beginning in a way, like the transition of the 5 am sky, from dark hue midnight sky to a luminous royal blue.

You had the windows rolled down as the wind wafted your skin. You were dressed in your cotton knit cream sweater and a knee-length denim shorts. You had taken a quick stop at the nearest Starbucks outlet to get a cup of hot chocolate. You weren't exactly a coffee type of person. You didn't exactly get what makes people so addicted to it. You didn't like the still remaining taste despite pouring three packets of sugar on it. You loved the hot chocolate because sweetness always enlightened your mood. Your mother used to make you a glass of hot chocolate when you were groggy or when you were anxious. You guess it sticks with you no matter how old you are.

A few hours down the road, the temperature started to rise, you can feel the sticky sweat clinging on your skin cloaked under the thickness of your sweater. You stopped by the gas station to fill in your tank, you were back on the road after you bought some snacks. Not only your car that needed to be loaded, but your stomach also did.

You finally arrived at your destination. You had to drive down some uneven roads that bounced all your items inside and you were feeling a bit nauseated after hours of sitting on the driver's seat and the coarse path. But when you finally reached the spot that you found on the internet, it was worth it. You forgot all the hindrances that you had to endure to get yourself here. The pictures that you saved on your phone didn't do justice to the real scenery.

The land was surrounded by nothing but pine green circling around you. The trees were tall, venerable, and benignant. You could hear the sound of the waterfall coursing through the river and it was a picturesque sight. You took a deep breath to inhale the fresh air. For a second, you forgot what you were here in the first place, you relished the stunning mother nature before you.

But then a picture of your mother, smiling emerged into view. You remembered the look on her face when she talked about all the travel plans she had when she recovers. She never had that chance, and it tore you to pieces, again. The thing about losing someone you love the most is that no matter how many good things you have throwing themselves on your way, the pain doesn't just vanish into thin air. It leaves and comes back every once in a while. It gives you space to breathe and to collect yourself and then when it knows you've walked long enough in the light, it comes back to haunt you, reminding you that it never really left.

But you tried to focus on the present, you can't make your mother come back or travel back in time to keep her alive, so you were going to cherish this moment for her. You were going to feast on this fleeting tranquility that you have.

You stood there until you felt like you were jaded for being on your feet for too long. You went back to your car to take your tent and try to set it up. You had to look that up on the internet too, to get it standing perfectly. After what feels like your thousandth attempts, you were glad that it finally relented and let you use it as a makeshift home.

By the time you were done, it was already afternoon. You decided that you were going to take a look around the woods, you weren't going to just stay in one spot, you still had a few hours until it goes dark and of course you weren't going to be stupid enough to wander around the forest that you had never been to after dusk.

You decided you were going to just walk in nearby areas. You were terrified of getting too far, you might end up lost and couldn't find your way back. You only brought your cellphone that was practically useless because you couldn't find any signal there, but you still needed it to take pictures. You also decided to take a bottle of water with you. Quenching your thirst is essential in a journey through the woods.

You kept on walking while stopping once in a while to capture what you find stunning. You were so lost in looking for your next shot to snap, you didn't see the edged branch that was tapered pointedly until your skin grazed against it, causing a deep, painful cut on your left thigh. It was so piked that it left a horizontal shred on your knee-high shorts too.

You dropped your phone to the soil and yielded a high pitched squeal. It reminded you of the traumatic incident in kindergarten, where you were playing chase and run with a classmate, and you stumbled on a hard rock that left a permanent scar on your right knee.

You fell on the ground because you couldn't withhold the agony any longer. You try to stop the bleeding by ripping a piece of your torn jeans, even though it required some struggle. You did not want to let it get infected. You bandaged the crimson wound and you sat there for a few minutes to calm yourself down. You held yourself back on your hands pressed to the soil, you didn't care that it was going to get dirty, you just needed to find a comfortable position until you decide that you were strong enough to return to your tent.

Little did you know, your shriek had invited an unwanted presence. No, no, not the spooky kind. More like a starving wolf that you saw in your dreams a couple of nights ago, with spiked tusks ready to hunt its prey.

So much for thinking that this would be the best vacation of your life...

Steve Rogers had been living in this enormous cabin in the woods all his life. He was raised by his parents whom his grandparents trusted to take care of the cabin. When his grandfather died, he left it to his parents as his inheritance. His father used to teach him hunting and his mother used to teach him how to cook. They taught him a lot of things to survive living in the woods. It wasn't an easy life, they had to get things done all by themselves.

They had to work hard to get their basic needs. They had to habituate themselves in being isolated. It wasn't a difficult thing for Steve because he was always a lone wolf who was vigilant towards his privacy, but a part of he couldn't help but wish that he had someone to take care of. Someone he could keep to himself. Someone who he could call his and his only. Someone who he could... possess. He didn't feel lonely, no, he loved being alone. He loved his autonomy. But he was only a man after all and man has needs. When he was feeling needy and jerking himself off wasn't just doing it anymore for him, he would often go to the city, an hour drive was all it took to get to the nearest brothel house.

Whenever he walked into the door of that ranch, his steps were heard loud and clear and his presence was witnessed effortlessly. It wasn't difficult for a man like him to spend hours in the bordello, his stamina was ceaseless and, let's just say that he was an... ingenious man. He understood a woman's body and what it desires. He wasn't afraid to use his skill and his expertise to fulfill his appetite and his subject. Oh, and how he could take his time to satisfy each one of these ladies.

But whenever he was finished, he would return home with this feeling of void, yes his physical thirst was quenched and his cock wasn't painfully hard anymore that it hurt, at least he got to release the tension that would've left him high and dry if he hadn't fucked some pussy, but there was still something missing. He still hadn't found that one thing he could domineer within the privacy of the woods. The brothel provided private rooms for their customers for sure, but nothing was more pleasant to him than being in his own private quarters, and the thought that these women he had a good time with weren't exactly his, bored him.

He was fatigued by the fact that they have slept with other people too. It's not like he had some sort of attachment to any of them, but that just reminded him of something he still couldn't find. He needed to make a quick move. He was a determined man, once he set his mind on something, he will do whatever it takes to obtain it. And once he found that one girl that he knew would be his favorite possession, he would take her without a second thought and he would make her his.

He drove his beatdown truck back into the woods, the deserted road had become too familiar to him to turn on the beam headlights. He cleaned himself off under the boiling hot water, wipe away the droplets of water that were clinging to his slightly tanned skin, after years of hunting in the middle of the day where the sun was scorching hot and he never bothered of covering every inch of himself up, nobody was going to see him after all.

Later that night, he dropped himself on to the mattress without being bothered to put on any coverups. He always slept nude. It started drizzling outside when he decided that he was going to call it a night. He was going to go hunting tomorrow, so he needed to gather all his energy to make sure he wouldn't miss his target on the day. So he shut his eyes away and drifted into unconsciousness.

The next morning, he woke up precisely at 7.30 am and gathered all his hunting tools. He had his rifle and his bullets with him. Although he didn't really need much because he had been doing this his whole life, he almost never missed a shot. He was patient enough to observe his target, and he calculated his next move meticulously. He put the rifle near his nose then he waited until he knew his shot would be hit exactly between the target's eyes. Then bam! Within a matter of seconds, it ceased to breathe. Then he put the lifeless creature into his sack.

The day was still young and he decided to repose and chugged down half of the water container. When he felt energized enough, he decided to hike a little farther into the outer parts of the woods. He packed up his rifle and his water container along with his deceased prey.

That's when he heard it. An earsplitting squeal. His senses were alert enough to measure the direction of where it came from. His pace was accelerated towards it. He didn't halt until he saw a tiny, cotton-knit wrapped figure, reclining on the muddy ground, bandaging what seemed to be her wounded thigh with a piece of ripped jeans.

He stood there behind a giant tree, leaning on his arm against it, and observed the sight before him. A young, beautiful girl who didn't look any older than 25, she looked in distress. Her hands were dirty of mud. She seemed unaware of her environs.

She kept mewling in pain, he didn't know how she got the wound, although he could put it in his head that with the phone that was lying next to her, the screen still on display, and next to her head was a very twinged branch, he could put the math together and theorized that she was too starstruck by the sceneries in this woods, just like any other local tourist would, that she didn't notice the poked out, nature-made shank.

But he was entranced by the sight before him. She was really pretty, the kind of beauty that makes you want to keep your eyes on nothing else but her. Like the constellation had aligned, burst into flames, landed on the Earth, and gave birth to a woman. It was divine and striking, in the most heartwarming way.

He wasn't standing too far away but it was enough to not alarm her. The benefit was that he could keep ogling as long as he wanted. About twenty minutes had passed and she finally decided to get on her feet. She picked up her phone and pat her hands together to brush off the remnants of the dirt that were still clinging to her palms. Her sweater was slightly tarnished but she didn't seem to bother stroking it off. She walked to the other direction. She was limping but she held herself straight.

She finally halted at the place where there was a tent, illuminated from the inside, and there was a car. He learned immediately that, that's where she was staying. The usual tourist spot. He didn't see anyone else with her. She seemed to be camping alone.

That was odd, usually, couples, a group of high school kids, or families camp together. He was always irked by those intruders who occupied the land. They luxuriated from nature, but how did they pay her in return? By littering the surface and leaving junk all over the site. They didn't even bother gathering them in one place so that it would be easier for the Foresters to pick them up.

Poor girl, he thought. She must be really lonely to go out here alone. People don't choose these woods to have 'alone' time. They usually choose the libraries or the Bahamas, if they want to go a little extravagant. This girl mustn't know a lot about camping too, from the way she set up her tent, it looks slightly rumpled, it could still keep her safe though, well not too safe, now that he's here. But at least she wouldn't be soaked if it rains.

Her car was parked right behind the tent, it was a simple pearl white Chevy Spark. She seemed to travel light. He couldn't see much through the tinted windows, but he had seen giant truck cars and jeeps that were overweight with travel bags more than necessary. He memorized all the details of the setting and made a fixed resolution on his mind.

He is doing some hunting tonight...

[stilloutofmyvulcanmind]

Baking and Bonding

Pairing: Damian Wayne + Batmom!Reader

Word Count: 1900

Warnings: Nothing but sugary fluff here

Summary: Batmom spends a Saturday afternoon baking, and ends up bonding with Damian

A/N: Damian deserves all the love, so I just wanted to write a little thing for him. This is also my first time writing for him! :)

It was Saturday, and for once the manor was quiet in a good, peaceful way, rather than the dreadful silence that filled the empty rooms when Bruce and the boys were out on patrol. You'd decided to spend some of the day baking for no reason other than you hadn't in a while. Things had been hectic of late, but now everything was settled again, you'd decided it was a nice way to relax. 

Just as you finished pulling out the ingredients you needed, you heard quiet footsteps come padding down the hall. A few seconds later Damian appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. He paused, looked at you for a moment, then proceeded to make himself a sandwich. 

"Finished your homework?" 

"I completed it hours ago, Y/N. It was child's play."

Of course, it was. You let it drop, turning your attention to the task of measuring out your ingredients. You'd expected Damian to disappear again with his food, so it was a surprise when instead he took a seat on the other side of the kitchen island. 

"What are you doing?" He asked after a mouthful. 

"I'm baking some cupcakes for us."

"Why?"

You shrugged, "I find baking relaxing, and making something for people is a nice way to show you care."

Damian hummed and said nothing more as he finished his sandwich. He watched you still though, taking in every movement. It was another surprise that he remained even after he was done, but you weren't opposed to it. He'd slowly started to spend more time around you recently, something you greatly approved of. Even him sitting silently around you was a major improvement to how he'd been when he'd first come to live with you. 

"You aren't following a recipe?" 

"I am, I just know it by heart." It was clear Damian was interested, and you knew well enough that his mother would've never baked for him or with him. But if you asked him outright if he wanted to help, he'd bolt. "Do me a favor and set the oven at 350?" 

Damian moved immediately to do as you said and you smiled. Helping because you asked and not have to admit he really wanted to seemed to work. You gestured to the small box of cupcake cases and the tray next to it. "Put those into the tray for me too."

Damian did as instructed, and you finished whisking all the ingredients together. He hovered next to you as you began to add the mixture to the cases. You let him watch how you did the first half, then silently offered him the bowl to finish the second. He took it, and carefully started work. He moved slowly, taking his time to ensure each case had the exact amount you'd put in yours. 

With two left he slipped and more went into one of the cases than it should. His eyes widened, looking panicked for a moment. You grabbed a teaspoon, quickly spooning the excess into the last case, and he relaxed again. You hated seeing him like that as if he thought you'd be mad at the simplest of accidents. 

You put the tray in the oven and turned back to the empty bowl. There was still some mixture clinging to the side and on the whisk, you'd used. With your pinky, you swiped some up and popped it into your mouth. Damian was watching you, looking more than a little horrified.

"Try it," you coaxed, pushing the bowl towards him. 

Damian made a face, nose scrunching up. "There are several raw ingredients that can cause illness!" 

"Damian, I've been eating raw cake mix since I was younger than you, and not once have I ever gotten sick. Trust me, try a little?" 

He hesitated a moment longer, then copied your initial movement of swiping some onto his finger. His eyes went wide for a whole different reason this time, and you couldn't help but chuckle. You twisted the whisk off the machine and offered it to him. Damian accepted it immediately, and yeah, watching him lick it clean was definitely the cutest thing. 

By the time you were done finishing the remnants of the batter and actually washing the bowl and utensils, the cakes were done. 

"Smells good, yeah?" You moved the cupcakes to a wire rack to cool, not failing to notice the look in Damian's eyes as he sized them up. 

He nodded. "What do we do now?" 

"We make the icing while the cakes cool." Now that he was fully invested, you talked him through what you needed and how much. You could see him absorb everything he was told. Pulling out the bottles of food coloring you kept stashed away, you laid them in front of him." Want to pick what colors we use?" 

Damian thought a moment then picked out the red, green and yellow bottles. You smiled and put the rest away. You split the icing into three bowls and added the food coloring. He watched intently as you made up the piping bags. 

"Come here," you said, motioning for him to come and stand in front of the now cool cakes. Handing him one of the bags, you stood behind him, hands over his, and guided him in icing the first cake. You did a few more with him until the first color was gone, and he seemed to have the hang of it. You let him do the rest by himself, looking on at the intense concentration on his face, tongue poking out just a little as he threw all his attention into getting the icing just right. They were a little scruffy, but for his first time, they were pretty damned good. 

"You've got a knack for this!" You smiled, clearing away the dirty bowls. Damian smiled back, just slightly. He'd never admit it, but you spotted the pride. "Now for the final touches!" You pulled out some candy, a variety of little things you could put on top. "Half each?" 

You split the cupcakes, six each, and set about adding the pieces of candy as you liked, setting them onto a large plate once you were done. It wasn't how you'd planned to spend your baking afternoon. Having Damian around you, completely relaxed and happy for once made it a million times better. 

You finished your cakes but kept one to the side. "This one's for you," you said, sliding it over to him. He looked down at the red icing with the large 'D' written in chunks of candy. 

"Thank you," he spoke softly, then was suddenly presenting you with another cake. You hadn't even noticed him keep one back, but apparently, you'd had the same idea. The icing was yellow, one of the cakes you'd decorated together. On top was a large 'U'. "It's for 'Ummi'. Talia…disliked me using it, but it means mother." The words were so quiet you barely heard him, but you did, and you'd be lying to say you weren't nearly crying. 

Damian wasn't looking at you, so you reached out to coax his head up. "I think it's beautiful. Thank you."

There was that smile again, and you swore at that moment to wreak hell on anyone who ever hurt him. He'd been your son from the moment he'd stepped into the manor, despite the less than favorable things he said to you. You'd accepted that unlike the other boys, he might not ever reciprocate the notion. But this, now, it meant he did, and the only reason you didn't say how much you loved him was that it'd inevitably embarrass him. 

"Can we try them?" 

You almost didn't want to eat yours. A part of you wanted to keep it and preserve it forever, but Damian already had his in hand, and you didn't have the heart not to eat yours too, even if it was for a good reason. 

"Of course." You picked yours up and held it out, offering up a mock cheer as he 'clinked' his against yours. You peeled the wrapper off and took a bite. It was good. Really good. 

Damian actually moaned. Which answered the question of whether he liked it or not. "Can we keep these just for us?" He asked around his mouthful. 

You laughed. They had been for the family, but it was utterly impossible for you to say no to him at that moment. "They'll be our secret."

"Todd will scoff them all if he sees them."

"Then we won't let him see them." You took a container and set the rest of the cakes in it before putting it away in the small cupboard that was designated yours. Not even Bruce dared go in it without permission. "Just us."

Another smile. What you wouldn't give to see that as often as possible. "Thank you for allowing me to help you."

"You're welcome. We can do it more if you want."

"You would be amenable to that?" 

"Of course. I know a lot of recipes, or if there's anything you want, we can do that."

Damian nodded, quiet a moment. “There is one thing we could perhaps make one day. A honey cake. Mother baked it often, and…it’s one of my favorite things.”

“We can do that. Do you know the recipe she used?”

Damian nodded. “Yes, I’d help her when I could.”

“Great!” You beamed, “Write down the ingredients we need, and we can do it next weekend.”

“So soon?”

“Of course. I want you to be happy here, and if a honey cake makes you happy then I need no other reason.”

A moment passed and you saw a look of hesitation on Damian’s features. Then he was wrapping his arms around your shoulders, squeezing tightly. You didn’t even have to think about it. You wrapped your arms around the boy in return, hugging him back as tightly as he hugged you. This was a first, and you hoped it wouldn’t be a last. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into your neck. 

You squeezed him a little closer. “If it’d make you smile, I’d make you anything you wanted, every week until I was so grey and old it’d be a danger to let me in a kitchen.”

Damian pulled back, though his hands still rested on your shoulder. “Then it will be my turn to bake for you.”

“Yeah.” You reached up to smooth over and a wild chunk of hair that had gotten ruffled. “You’re a good boy, Damian, and no matter what you do I’ll always be proud of you.”

For a heartbeat, you thought he was going to cry, but then he was hugging you again. “I am glad to have you, Ummi.”

“And I, you, sweetheart.”

You didn’t say 'I love you’, but at that moment you didn’t need to. He knew. And for the first time, you knew he loved you back.

Tagging: @bookcaseninja @musikat18

(If anyone wants to be tagged in future Batfam stuff, let me know!)