#in my dream...i sang an elaborate song

[calamarispiderart]

blehh

[leonw4nter]

hiiii so I really like your fics (you write incredibly well 😭💗) and if you're free I wanted to ask for one that consists of something fluff comfort ??

reader (can be female) is an agent just like Leon (her bf>:3) and it is a stormy night when she wakes up from a nightmare/or night terror and as there is a lot of thunder and she ends up getting scared and ends up having a panic attack or something because of the ptsd that she developed through missions and ends up asking Leon for help, but Leon has never seen her go through that so it's kind of his first time having to deal with her being scared by the storm so... 😞

it was more of a thought than an elaborate idea so if you want to give more "story" to this feel free to adjust it:,)) feel free to ignore this too, but I'd appreciate it in advance if you request the idea ^^🩷🩷oh and it could be Leon re4 remake c:

Cold Air and Warm Bodies

RE4R!Leon x Agent!F!Reader

You were sitting in the dining room of your parents’ house, both of them on your left and right as they sang “Happy Birthday” to you with soft claps. A single-tiered cake covered in white frosting dusted with rainbow sprinkles and topped with ‘2’ and ‘1’ candles lit up by a golden flame sat in front of you, the blazes waiting to be put out by your gentle gust of air by the end of their song. The scene appears perfect, eerily serene; something feels off about this and you’re not sure why– it’s the ideal home life, the ultimate dream of a girl celebrating 21 trips around the sun.

“Happy Birthday to you,” your parents finish the last lyric together as they place their palms on your shoulder, a touch you should not have flinched slightly from.

“Go blow out your candles,” your mother gently urges.

“No, she has to make a wish first!” your father interjects.

You nod and make a silent wish– rather, you stay silent as you try to fathom what could possibly be the element that makes this whole picture odd and make yourself look as if you were wishing. You blow out the candles one by one, starting with the ‘2’ candle first; you watch the faint gray wisp of smoke dance around before you whisk them away with the swat of a hand.

“Mom?” you ask in a small voice. “Can I have some almond milk with my cake?”

“Almond milk?” she asks, to which you respond by nodding. “Sure, I’ll go fetch some for you. You and dad go take bites without me!”

She walks to the kitchen and opens up a cupboard to pull out a glass to pour your milk into. It takes her quite some time to rummage around the fridge, taking out cartons and jugs but never finding almond milk. She walks back to the dining room, leaving behind the empty glass on the kitchen counter.

“Sorry sweetie, I must’ve forgotten to get you the almond milk. What’s that brand you liked again?” she responds as she places a hand on yours with a simper too sweet on her face. This is not your house. This is not your dad. This is not your mom. You will die.

“We don’t have almond milk because you’ve never bought any,” you say as you start to rise from your chair as your hand attempts to hide the cake knife you’ve taken while your ‘dad’ was preoccupied. “I’m allergic to almonds. You’re not my mom.”

“Clever girl.” The woman in front of you starts to distort into a mutated mass of flesh, blood vessels, eyes, and bones along with the man. You lift the table with whatever strength you have in you, obstructing the mutants’ way as you make your escape to the upper floors of your house. You know you’re running fast, legs pumping forward to move you away, but the stairs look as if they’re moving against your direction. The stairwell seems longer and the mutants are getting closer but the opposing movement seems to stop so you get to run up and escape into your room, locking the door and pushing down your bookshelf to barricade.

“Shit,” you mumble to yourself as it starts to get harder to breathe. Your throat feels like it’s closing up, a suffocating weight pressing against your lungs as breathing becomes strenuous. It occurs to you that you’re probably asthmatic and in need of an inhaler to work well again but that’s downstairs, where the monsters are. You’re wheezing and coughing, red-faced and teary-eyed as you fall to the ground, desperately clawing at the wooden floorboards as you desperately try to level your breathing and manage without a dosage to stop this asthma attack. You feel incredibly helpless, trapped in this body that isn’t conditioned to fight bedtime story monsters; you know that deep down, you know how to fight– you know your way with a Walther PDP and combat knives but this stupid, weak body can’t do those things for reasons unknown. A screeching sound catches your attention and you watch as a long talon rip off the door knob and throw it down the hall, a disgusting red eye peering at you through the hole uncovered by the makeshift barricade as clicks and screeches ensue outside. One BOW taunts you as you struggle for air, the other is actively working on dislocating the door from its hinges and it’s doing a damn good job at that. The floor opens up, catching you off-guard and you land on the living room on your back.

“Fuck,” you seethe and curse as you clutch your back due to the impact and the way you didn’t brace yourself for a fall. Another stinging pain ensues, this time on your right foot near your Achilles tendon; a blunt wooden piece of the ground found itself lodged on your leg.

“No…” you quietly wail to yourself as you try to drag yourself to safety and keep the wheezing to a minimum. Several cold and grimey hands yank at the hem of your jeans, dragging you to some place in the unfamiliar house. Zombies, you’re positive on this. You look down as you try to fight your way and are met with achingly familiar faces: your best friends, classmates, coworkers, school teachers, neighbors, little children, and Leon.

“No!” is all you can scream, voice cracking you kick them away and crawl. “No! Help me! Someone! Please, help!”

You start to cry as you feel bites on your feet, agonizing and stinging pain. You scream for help, arms reaching out when there’s nothing to cling to. Chunks are being taken from your leg, blood, flesh, and tatters of your jeans lay where your legs should be.

“Stop! I’m scared!” Your voice is nearly gone, your throat is exhausted, and you want your real mother back. “Please! Stop! I’m begging! Let me go!” you’re choking on sobs as you look down and see the damage done to your body.

You awaken to the sound of your own hoarse scream, this time held down in a cool and dark bedroom laying against soft sheets. You can’t see, your eyes haven’t adjusted to the darkness yet but you’re sure there’s a large figure right beside you.

“Legs,” you pant as you try to fight the figure and sit up to check on your right leg. “My leg.”

Your breathing comes out in quick and loud gasps, shoulders swiftly rising and falling with each furious intake of oxygen. You push muscular shoulders away with a force strong enough to distance the figure away from you before furiously checking if your legs are still intact and if there isn’t a piece of wood impaled through your leg. You feel around your body, checking if there’s any blood and injury that needs immediate care and much to your relief, the only thing you need to work on is your breathing. You didn’t even realize that you’ve been holding your pistol, only registering the cool gun metal against your warm palm. You aim it into the seemingly vast expanse of the dark bedroom, trying to keep your hands as stable as possible to be able to aim well in case any BOW happens to sneak into the space you formerly thought was safe. Your ears start to ring, muffling any other noise in the room, and it appears that your vision is blocked off at the peripheral. It’s all too overwhelming and the tears resume again, coupled with the hyperventilation; your face tingles from the sheer force of your sobbing, throat parched with all the crying you’re doing. You’re terrified and confused; you know this bedroom like the back of your hand but you can’t help but obsess over the possibility that what you’re seeing is an illusion again, a trick of your troubled mind.

Leon moves to his bedside table and switches the lamp on, a dim golden glow illuminating the room. He slowly approaches you, his hands placed where you can see them as he helps you reorient yourself back to reality.

“You’re alright,” he begins to say in the most soothing voice he can muster. “You’re safe with me. It was just a bad dream, none of that’s real.”

You slowly lower your gun, index now linger right outside of the trigger guard as you realize that it’s Leon. A Leon that’s still alive and real, slowly approaching you so as not to make your panic attack make a turn for the worst. Tears still distort your vision but you can make out his wrinkled white sleep shirt and his messy mop of blond hair, dark roots showing themselves. He sounds exhausted too, but he doesn’t make it obvious.

“It’s me, Leon. I got you,” he adds with a soft smile as he nears you though he’s wary of the gun. “Let’s put the gun away so we can talk, okay?”

You drop the gun, the heavy firearm dropping with the loud thud on the floor. You fall to your knees, the flow of tears becoming heavier than it was moments ago. Leon moves near you and scoops you up in his lap, cradling you back and forth as he presses kisses to your sweat-dampened hair.

“You're safe with me,” he reassured you. “It’s alright–”

“L-Leon,” you stuttered through choked sobs and loud sniffles. “You w-were dead. They pretended– pretended to be my parents–”

He gently shushes you as he moves a lock of air away from your face, still enveloping you with his firm body.

“It’s just a dream, see? I’m still alive. The monsters are gone now and it’s just you and me and we’re far from danger. Come on, breathe with me: inhale and exhale slowly. Yeah, yeah, there we go.”

You follow him, your body still shaking and stuttering but you follow his instructions in an attempt to slow down your rapid breaths.

“Focus on me, alright?” you nod.

“Describe three things that you feel right now.”

You stay quiet for a while, trying to focus on what you’re feeling aside from the storm inside you. He gives you a moment, patiently waiting as he brushes hairs away from your face and wipes the tears away with a calloused thumb.

“The floor… cold air and… your arms,” you answer.

“Good. That’s great, you did so well,” he croons. “Now, give me three things that you can see.”

This time, you take a shorter time to compose your answers. “The bed, you, and the rain on the window.”

He nods and whispers more encouragement and reassurances, gently shifting your body to a more comfortable position as he notices that your breathing is far less brisk.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he offers. “It’s okay if you don’t–”

“It was my birthday and, and… there were BOWs pretending to be my parents, those fuckers. They were chasing me and I felt like I didn’t know what to do, I felt so puny– incapable of defending myself. I couldn’t breathe properly and my leg got stabbed and people I’ve known were zombified, you too, and they were clawing at my legs– my legs were chewed off and it was so painful, too real. I was so terrified and scared, I didn’t want to die but you were dead and I felt guilty that you turned out like that. I just… I don’t know, I’m so scared. I don’t want to lose more people but I can’t save everyone– it’s just… it feels horrible.”

He hums and lets you ramble on before he responds with his own experience.

“It’s alright, I’m here and alive. I’m here for you and I understand what you’re experiencing– I’ve been through that shit myself too but trust me, we’ll overcome this together. It’s normal to be this terrified beyond words and horribly shaken but I’ll always be here to comfort you, m’kay?”

He’s well aware that you have night terrors, it simply came with the job– he knew it all too well. The only consolation the government said as soon as you two were deployed was that they would compensate in pay, which they stayed true to; it paid well but he’d rather not feel fucked up. You never told him about your night terrors, about the visions that plagued you in closed lids, insisting that this is something you can handle by yourself so he didn’t press any further but still watched out for you. He’s unsure about what he’s doing but he had to keep up the image of someone who knows what he’s doing, having only watched a few YouTube videos and medical articles but it appears to be working, so he’s relieved. He sits with you on the floor in a comfortable silence, ears open to listen for your breathing. You’re no longer shaking and shivering, now stilled in his arms and curled against his chest. You’ve fallen asleep, the effort exerted to snap out of the dream and regain your bearings too much for your body so he carries you back to bed and gently lays you down as he picks your pistol up and unloads the magazine before stashing it away. The room is silent save for the muted sounds of his footsteps, the pitter-patter of rain, and the low rumble of thunder. He mentally considers getting thicker curtains to block out the flashes of lightning as this triggers memories of the city long forgotten.

He joins you back in bed, moving you so you’d be pressed against his chest with his arms wrapped around you. He feels your hands instinctively cling to his shirt as his hand pats your back. With his free hand, he reaches to touch the part of his cheek where you struck him quite strongly by accident when you trashed violently but he won’t tell you, he can’t possibly burden you about the possibility of hurting him by accident. Soon, his lids grow heavy and he gives in to sleep as he holds you.

NOTE - Thank you to kittzy2 for this request, I hope you enjoyed this and the two month-long wait is worth it 💗!! Initially, I thought about posting this today (Sept. 4) but I decided to post this on raccoon city incident day for funzies :) A day ago, I found out that one of the kids I look after is getting into RE like?? ONG??? so ofc I had to message them (which I normally don't do) and we chatted for a bit and I had to tell her about the toxic side of the fandom and we shared favs too ; her favs are Jill and Ada which is so real of her actually, I lost my shit kinda coz I was getting extremely excited to start yapping about them both :3 ALSO ALSO TO THE DMC PPL IN MY BLOG: YALL. THEY'LL FEATURE DMC IN THE NETFLIX GEEKWEEK THING. THEY BETTER NOT SHIT ON MY DICK RN BRO I WAITED ALMOST AN ENTIRE YEAR FOR THIS 😭🙏 Anyway, thanks for reading my fics!!!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!

The pattern dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[bluecatwriter]

Just watched The Sound of Music with my spouse— it had been a long time since I'd seen it! I can definitely see why it was one of my favorite movies as a kid: I wanted to be the Von Trapp kids more than anything (even though I resented how quickly they learned solfage). What if I was a child singing with my siblings at a lavish dinner party, and everyone oohed and ahhed and said how talented we were? What if we were performing for a huge crowd and everybody loved us and we put on puppet shows and our governess had pillow fights with us while we sang catchy tunes? The dream.

(It's worth noting that my three siblings and I all have trained voices, and we often sang together for people when we were kids— and yes, people called us "The Von Trapp Children" all the time. But we never sang an elaborate choreographed song at a lavish dinner party, alas.)

[demonio-fleurs]

the headcanon ask game!

for both sabo and koala:

🏳️‍🌈🧸🎶💝❤️‍🔥😶

Send in a character or characters and an icon and I’ll give you...

i am so sorry this took so long btw, a mixture of me being busy and also having to come up with these on the spot made it take longer than i wanted it to!

these also range from "simple and straight forward" to "mini fics/drabbles" haha, sorry for the inconsistency

🏳️‍🌈 A sexuality headcanon

they're both bisexual, although koala is (in my opinion) far more likely to be vocal about it than sabo, who is too busy with work to think about relationships.

koala realized she was bisexual when she met betty for the first time, and no i will not elaborate further. meanwhile sabo has just always kinda known that gender doesn't matter for him.

(more under the cut!)

🧸 A headcanon about their childhood

one day, while traveling the seas with the sun pirates, their ship was attacked by slavers looking for a profit. they were arrogant, and believed they could easily take out the group of fishmen on the ship.

koala doesn't remember much about that night, except for how frightened she was, as the ship had been caught up in a cyclone right before being attacked.

but she does remember huddling in a corner of the ship, wide eyes staring as a man came rushing towards her. she remembers jinbei, stepping out of nowhere and using Samehada Shotei against the slaver, and how the sheer force of it was enough to cause the man to be tossed across the room, knocking him out. jinbei then turned to her, and had her crawl onto his back for safety until they could ensure there was no one left on the ship.

that memory stayed burned into her for the rest of her life, and the day that hack told her that she'd finally perfected the Samehada Shotei technique was one of the happiest moments of her life.

for the longest time, sabo's childhood was not defined by memories, but rather feelings and vague nightmares. he remembered there being a great, terrible fire, and the fear he felt when he saw it. he remembered the feeling of a bird, trapped in it's cage and wanting so desperately to fly free. so many dark emotions, so many nights waking up in a cold sweat, gripping onto his sheets.

but sometimes, there were positive thoughts and dreams from his childhood. a song played in a bar on a mission might bring back the memory of tall, towering trees amidst a humid jungle. koala clinging to him in the middle of a hot night brought back the feeling of creaky wooden boards beneath him, and the starry night sky above him.

it wouldn't be until after ace's death that he gained the context necessary to understand those lingering childhood memories, but context didn't make his heart feel any less heavy in his chest.

🎶 A headcanon about music

one day while laying low in a bar and trying to plan out their next steps on an important mission assigned to them by dragon, koala began singing along to an old song that was being played on a dingy old piano in the corner. to her surprise, sabo began humming along with it, despite it being a song that was usually only known by pirates.

after their mission, she sat down with him and sang the lyrics in the hopes of triggering some memories from his past, but the only thing that came to mind for sabo was a warm summer night in a jungle.

later on, he'd put together that he must have heard the song from luffy, who taught both him and ace the lyrics to "prepare them" for their life as a pirate.

💝 A headcanon about their love language

sabo is a very "physical touch" person, when they are alone he is constantly either in their lap, or clinging onto them, almost as if when he lets go of them, they'll disappear forever.

koala, on the other hand, is more of a "quality time" type of person. to her, so long as she is near the person she loves, that is quality time, even if they aren't doing the same thing. this doesn't mean that she isn't physically affectionate, in fact she can be quite clingy when she's worried or upset, but that isn't her primary love language.

❤️‍🔥 A romantic headcanon

oh gosh, haha, i'm honestly one of the worst people for romance but here we go

one of sabo's favorite things to do when coming home from a mission is to put his head in koala's lap and fall asleep. almost every outside observer wonders when koala will get fed up with him and kick him out of her lap, especially since she'll complain about it to anyone who will listen, but hack knows that koala secretly loves it. when she thinks no one is looking she'll often run her fingers through his golden locks, and simply enjoy the downtime with him.

😶 A random headcanon!

sabo has fangs like a dragon 3:

koala has an incredibly high spice tolerance, but primarily bc she enjoys food that has strong flavors.

[foxgirltail]

I remember lamenting recently that Brian David Gilbert's "perfect pokemon rap" was already over a hundred Pokemon out of date, however, upon reviewing the footage earlier today I realized bdg's true genius:

His perfect pokemon rap would always be (nearly, more on that later) perfect, regardless of how many new Pokemon were created afterwards.

Firstly, he splits "standard" pokemon up from "rare" pokemon. These are your legendaries, mythics, ultra beasts, and gods. These rare Pokemon are not represented verbally, but rather by "the dream ballet" (an elaborate interpretive dance), to which it does not appear there are distinct moves for each individual Pokemon. Instead there appears to be a handful of moves for each body type. This means we can add rare pokemon in from other generations without much hardship, just update the powerpoint in the background to move faster or have more on screen at once

Secondly, he relies on audience participation for something like 300 Pokemon. He argues that if enough people shout out names at random from a predetermined list, there's no way to verify that any Pokemon got missed. From that, we can argue that as the audience gets arbitrarily large, we can increase the sizes of the list and still be safe. The 2 official pokerap videos put out by polygon have a combined view count over 10 million; that's a large enough audience for me. Therefore, if we just keep the list of random Pokemon to shout out up to date, we can assume that someone, somewhere, has said it in time with the song.

From these two holy grails, Brian David Gilbert's perfect pokerap can never truly be outdated, and can be sung at any time with only PowerPoint changes, and still be accurate

Now, as to why I said "nearly" perfect at the start: when bdg sang his pokerap, he explicitly named at least one pokemon from each generation (not relying on the dream ballet or audience participation). With my suggested changes this would no longer be true, and as the generations of Pokemon continue to grow arbitrarily large, the percentage of generations represented verbally by the singer will continue to shrink. This is less than ideal to me, but they're still technically in the song from the earlier arguments so it is ultimately semantics

[good-beanswrites]

In line with the previous ask because I'm so bored at class and this au is living in my brain or is my brain living in this au...

The first few days were tense. The prisoners swung rapidly between the painful awareness of their lie and the odd feeling of believing it. They panicked that they were showing too much on their face, or they’d said the wrong thing, or they acted strange around Es. And then moments later they were glancing at the prisoners around them with apprehension – they were murderers, after all. 

It went on for several days, stopping only when Mahiru had quite enough of the whole thing.

“We’re having a bonding night!” She announced after Es’ door clicked tight for the evening. Not taking no for an answer, she gathered everyone in the panopticon. To those who worried it was bad for the experiment, she assured them she’d be doing the exact same thing even if they truly were prisoners.

Fuuta crossed his arms. “I didn’t come here to make friends. I don’t need your little fucking girls’ night.”

“We don’t have to be friends,” she said, her eager smile making it difficult to believe. “But if we’re going to be living together for this long, we have to get to know each other. Oh! Why don’t we start with something easy? I won’t even ask about your lives yet. Let’s talk about the songs we sang!” 

Her attention swung to Haruka, making the poor boy flinch. “I heard you rehearsing one day, when we walked past the recording rooms. You sounded beautiful. I’ve heard tons of love songs that didn’t put as much heart into their singing as you did.”

“A-ah!” He kept his eyes glued to the ground, but a smile was wobbling its way to his lips. “Th-thank you. I – uh, I wasn’t, wasn’t doing anything special.”

“Oh but you were! And I assume you had the other heart-wrenching one,” Mahiru folded her hands over her chest as she turned her gaze to Kazui. “Your voice is pretty hard to mistake for another.”

He bowed his head in thanks. “I’m flattered. And I’ll say the same about you. I caught a bit of your recording session as well – I don’t know if I ever could dream of matching your speed and enthusiasm.”

“My goodness, you’re making me blush!”

Mahiru only had to pick on a few more people before the conversation picked up on its own. It was difficult keeping ten people completely separate for such elaborate filming processes, so at some point they all had overheard bits of songs coming from within the recording booths, echoing from a distant set area, or rehearsed quietly to oneself in a closed dressing room. 

Muu agreed that Haruka’s song had been very emotional, and she commended Shidou on moving her as well. Yuno and Amane traded compliments about their voices and song styles. Mikoto told Kotoko her song was very powerful, and he liked the message of it.

Yuno looked around, mentally matching up voices with the muffled snippets she could remember. “Wait a second, who had the heavy one? With the yelling?”

Fuuta puffed out his chest. “That would be me. Pretty cool, huh? It’s called Bring It On, and –”

“No, no, not that one.”

He blinked. 

“I remember yours, but there was another one too.”

“Yeah, I heard it as well!” Muu said. A few joined in agreement. 

“They gave someone else a rock song…?”

The group looked to one another, waiting. They looked some more. 

Mikoto’s carefully held face broke into a grin. “Aw, you guys got me. I was trying to keep it a fun little surprise until later…”

“You?”  They chorused their shock.

He shrugged innocently, furthering their disbelief. 

“I didn’t know you were into that kind of music!”

“That’s so cool!”

Shidou said, “I know it’s only been a few days, but never would have expected that side of you.”

“Eh, I’ve got a few unexpected sides of me.” Mikoto winked, and the conversation moved on.

[black-arcana]

MARKO HIETALA Doesn't Rule Out Starting New Band With TARJA TURUNEN

In a new interview with El Planeta Del Rock, Marko "Marco" Hietala, who is currently on the road in South America as part of the "Living The Dream – The Hits Tour 2024" with his former NIGHTWISH bandmate Tarja Turunen, was asked if there is any chance of the two musicians launching a new project together. He responded (as transcribed by BLABBERMOUTH.NET): "I won't close that option off. We haven't talked about it, putting up a group together or anything like that. But at the moment, it seems that we've got a different kind of connection than it was [in the] past. Because then the camps were really divided already when I stepped into [NIGHTWISH]. And it was hard to find the truth of things, because a lot of it was like a managerial turf war where we got told certain things by one side and told certain things by the other side and lots of confusion — blah, blah, blah — and in the end, yeah, what we already realized a few years back when we were all together there doing the Christmas shows in Finland that after all the hassle has died and the noise has died and everything, you still find out that you lost a friend. And that was the main [reason] why we are basically doing this together again."

In a recent interview with Thiago Rahal Mauro of Brazil's Metal Musikast, Tarja spoke about what it was like to team up with Marko to perform a cover of "The Phantom Of The Opera" during their special open-air concert in July 2023 at Z7 Summer Nights in Pratteln, Switzerland. Tarja and Marko both played individual sets at the event, with their rendition of the main theme from Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical coming during Turunen's portion of the show.

"I got a call from a promoter to take part in one festival in Switzerland last year in a European summertime in July," Tarja said. "And then I got to know, when I had accepted to be the artist of the evening, then I saw that they had also invited Marko and Marko's band to perform in the same festival. So I thought, 'Hmm.' And I was actually sending a message that I wished to reach Marko, because I didn't have his contact any longer, to ask him to perform with me 'The Phantom Of The Opera' in my show. And he responded 'yes.' So, after 18 years [laughs], we were about to sing the song together. And it was super exciting. It was really beautiful. The people got very emotional about this.

"We had met already before — we had been singing on a few occasions in Finland a few years before — so we kind of cleaned the table on that occasion already," she explained. "So we were in good terms, so to say, but now singing 'The Phantom Of The Opera' together after all these years was amazing. So we did it twice, actually — we did it in Switzerland and then in Finland. And now we are going to do it — that and a lot more [laughs] — there in Brazil [during our upcoming joint tour]."

Tarja also elaborated on her friendship with Marko, saying: "It's a new relationship with him, because he's not the same person anymore than he was in the band. He has changed a lot, and many years have passed by. I've changed myself. Life has changed us. So it is a new relationship, let's say. And it had made me very happy to get to know him better after all these years."

Last November, Tarja admitted to Chaoszine that she was "nervous" before performing "The Phantom Of The Opera" with Marko at Z7 Summer Nights. "I believe that he was nervous as well to meet up with me, but we were both very excited to go back to the stage and to sing the song," she said. "We sang 'Phantom Of The Opera' in Switzerland for the first time. Then we went over to Finland to perform it again, did a show together there — he with his band and me with my own. Wow. It was pure emotion. I think it was really beautiful, but it made me kind of… I was, like, 'I'm in peace,' sort of. The feeling was great. I think it was even more for Marko, because I saw him standing there after my concert, when I finished my set, and he came like almost in tears, saying that this was important. We reconnected, and it's great. Now I'm really looking forward to have this tour [with Marko] in South America in March [2024], and I'm sure you will see something else happening also. Yeah, you'll hear."

Turunen was fired from NIGHTWISH at the end of the band's 2005 tour by being presented with an open letter which was published on the NIGHTWISH web site at the same time. In the letter, the other members of NIGHTWISH wrote: "To you, unfortunately, business, money, and things that have nothing to do with emotions have become much more important."

NIGHTWISH keyboardist and main songwriter Tuomas Holopainen later called the decision to part ways with Turunen "the most difficult thing I ever had to do." For her part, Tarja said the way she was kicked out of the group proved that her former bandmates were not her friends. "Maybe one day I'll forgive, but I will never forget," she said.

In 2019, Turunen dismissed Internet chatter about her possible return to NIGHTWISH after her December 2017 onstage reunion with the band's then-bassist/vocalist Hietala during a "Raskasta Joulua" concert in Hämeenlinna, Finland.

"I know a lot of fans would love to see something happen, but it's a very long distance away," she told Kerrang! magazine. "Personally, I don't see anything happening with me and them, to be perfectly honest. Marko came a little later into the band; he wasn't there since the beginning. He was always a guy I was close to. Me and Tuomas Holopainen, however, haven't seen each other in a long time… but we have been in touch. It's not bad. The past is what it is; we can't change that. We can only change the future."

NIGHTWISH's authorized biography, "Once Upon a Nightwish: The Official Biography 1996-2006", was published in Finnish in 2006 and in English three years later.

Turunen's husband, Marcelo Cabuli, and his business partners later sued the parties behind the book for defamation. Named in the lawsuit were the publishing house Like Kustannus Oy and the author of the book, Marko "Mape" Ollila. Cabuli and his Brazilian business partners argued that the book includes false accusations and insinuations that have caused them suffering and financial problems.

The book blamed Cabuli for the events leading up to Turunen's dramatic expulsion from the band in late 2005.

In 2011, the Helsinki District Court dismissed Cabuli's lawsuit, ruling that the book — which criticized Cabuli on only a few of its 380 pages — did not detrimentally affect his work or reputation in South America. In addition, the court determined that Ollila did not maliciously portray Cabuli in a negative light.

Nearly two years ago, Tarja was asked in an interview with Top Link Music manager and concert promoter Paulo Baron and music critic Regis Tadeu if she would consider doing a tour with NIGHTWISH if all of her former bandmates apologized to her about how their split happened and invited her to share the stage with them again. She responded: "It is very, very hypothetical that all what you said will happen, first of all — it's very, very hypothetical.

"I'm living in a world, like we are all living in a world, that things happen without us noticing," she continued. "I mean, I can't really close any doors in that sense; I'm not that kind of person any longer. I learned so many things in this life already. I take them as they are.

"So I don't know. It would be very hypothetically possible," she added. "It would be unlikely to happen."

Hietala announced his departure from NIGHTWISH in January 2021, explaining in a statement that he hadn't "been able to feel validated by this life for a quite a few years now." He has since been replaced by session bassist Jukka Koskinen (WINTERSUN),who made his live debut with NIGHTWISH in May 2021 at the band's two interactive experiences.

In an August 2022 interview with Finland's Chaoszine, Hietala revealed that he went through a dark period in his life, which included depression, insomnia, anxiety and an eventual attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) diagnosis. Speaking about how he eventually came to the realization that exiting NIGHTWISH was the right thing to do, Marko said: "It was a long process. Of course, the COVID year that was there, where I had a lot of time for soul searching, it obviously gave me the last incentive that I need something else, that if I just continue with this I'm just gonna get sicker and sicker. But, of course, it's a process.

"I've been chronic depressive since 2010 [or] 2011, so I've been on a permanent medication ever since," he revealed. "Sometimes you get used to the meds [and] you will need more. We did raise [the dosage] during the years also, but it just didn't work. And now that I started to do… I had psychotherapy for over four years now, and then I also talked to psychiatrists and some doctors and did that also in Spain. Then my psychiatrist here in Finland said that I should do these ADHD neuropsychological tests, which I then did in Spain. And, okay, I got it."

Hietala reiterated that he "had been thinking about" leaving NIGHTWISH "for a while" before making the final decision. "Because I had a lot of weight. And I tend to… With the attention disorder, it tells me that when there are lots of trouble, then the disorder makes it into a real chaos," he explained. "There's a shitload of stuff coming and going and no peace anywhere. And for a year or two, I was already waking up every night at three o'clock to bad dreams and anxiety. So I'd say that the whole process probably started already with my former divorce [in 2016]. That was a very sad time when you think about your kids and your broken homes and all that. And then, when I started to get clear from that, then there were, well, all kinds of things. I don't really wanna go any deeper to what kind of things I'd gone through, but I'd gone through enough."

Acknowledging that making NIGHTWISH's latest studio album, 2020's "Human. :II: Nature.", was a "difficult" experience for him, Marko denied that his mental state at the time resulted in a diminished role for him on the final LP. "I think the original idea was to have that… we'll do a couple of [solo vocal appearances], or one solo for me and Troy [Donockley], and the rest Floor [Jansen], and then the harmonies; that was the idea originally for that," he said. "So I don't know if it affected. I think it was sort of as planned. But at that time I already had serious trouble with concentrating and serious trouble with a constant black cloud over my head."

In July 2022, Hietala told Finland's Iltalehti that he had not kept in touch with NIGHTWISH since his departure or followed the activities of his former band.

In May 2021, Holopainen said that Hietala's decision to leave NIGHTWISH "came as a bit of a surprise." He told Finland's Kaaos TV: "Marko informed us in December [of 2020 that he was leaving the band]. And even though he has been very open about his state and problems during the past years, it still came as a bit of a surprise for us. So it was a really tough pill to swallow. And for a few days, I was actually quite confident that there's no coming back, that this is it. I remember talking to Emppu [Vuorinen], the guitar player, and we were, like, 'You think this is it?' 'Yeah, I think this is it.' I mean, enough is enough. So much has happened in the past. Something that broke the camel's back, as they say. Then, after some time had passed — a few days — we started to think that it's been such a ride of 25 years, with so many ups also, that this is not the way to end it."

Tuomas elaborated on NIGHTWISH's reasons for carrying on, saying: "I think we still have something to give, and that's the main point. The music is still there. We felt that there's still so much music that needs to come out from this band that, 'Okay, let's give it one more shot.' And then finding the new bass player was really easy."

He added: "It's not like we do this just because we need to do it and there's nothing else to do. On a personal level, I feel that there's still so many stories and melodies that I want to share with the world with one lineup or another, so that's why you want to continue and keep on going.

"I've said this a million times, that a lineup change is the ultimate energy vampire, and that's how it really felt and still feels."

In June 2021, Jansen spoke about Hietala's exit from the band in an episode of her "Storytime" YouTube video series. She said: "That was a very sudden surprise that, of course, was not fun at all. But we understand — I understand — it was a necessary thing for him to do. And from there, we had to think of how to continue without him, and that also, in preparations towards the virtual show, that was a huge challenge."

In December 2020, Hietala was crowned the winner of the fall 2020 season of "Masked Singer Suomi" — the Finnish edition of the popular masked singing contest. He was disguised as Tohtori — the Doctor.

In the summer of 2021, Holopainen said that NIGHTWISH would split up if the band's current singer Floor Jansen ever chose to leave. Holopainen, who formed NIGHTWISH in 1996 with guitarist Emppu Vuorinen and Turunen, made the comment while discussing the departure of Hietala.

Pressed by U.K.'s Metal Hammer magazine about his 2019 statement that NIGHTWISH would disband if another member opted to depart, Tuomas said: "That's how I felt back in 2019, and that's also how I felt when Marko left. I take my words back when it comes to that. But if it would be Floor leaving, that's it, it's the end of NIGHTWISH. Absolutely, 100%."

[giggly-squiggily]

Here’s a random question for you on this Monday afternoon - which character(s) do you think can sing really well? Whether through natural talent or tons of practice? 🤔

Hope you’re having a good beginning of the week! 😊❤️

Hehe, yes! A question for Monday afternoon- totally didn't forget to answer this until Saturday, nope! Not at all...👀��

Nah but seriously- I've gotcha friend! :D This is a fabulous question AHH!

Right off the bat- RIGHT OFF THE BAT: Chuuya. He's got an amazing voice and a wide range of musical taste, so if you're lucky and catch him in the act, you'll be treated to a mini performance! Dazai will sometimes sit by and listen in, just out of sight so Chuuya doesn't stop. He might not know many of the songs he's singing, but my god does he love it!

Also: Zenitsu! I've said this before, but the electric blonde has a really good singing voice! Just like his skills with the Shamisen and Koto- his hearing allows him to make sure he's pitch perfect. Also; he's just got a really nice voice, you know? When he's not screaming and freaking out; it's incredibly soothing to hear!

Joe from Sk8? He loves to sing while cooking! He mainly sings in Italian for the vibes (and to wow the pants off the kids- they didn't know he could sing- let alone in a different language!). He also knows those incredibly romantic love songs he saves especially for Cherry when they're alone; it's one of the few things that'll fluster him and Joe is living for it!

Gordon can sing opera. No I will not elaborate.

...okay fine akljrekarjkejkrj I think he mainly picked it up cause he tends to mumble so much? Opera requires you to really bring it, so he figured if he learned to do so, he'd have an easier time speaking a bit louder. The results?...He still mumbles TwT' But now there's the added effect of him singing opera while in the bath and everyone assuming the Bull's base is haunted kjarjkekjrakjejk (I love Gordon so much akrjajerje)

Yor is a good singer- she sang lullabies to Yuri all the time when they were kids and things were difficult; and she sings them to Anya whenever she's having a bad dream and needs comfort. Loid sometimes will listen in whenever she sings to Anya cause it reminds him of his mom doing the same thing years ago.

Finally, cause it's me and I wanna yell about Blue Lock- I think Nagi is a surprisingly good singer? He's one of those people who have tons of hidden talents, you know? Maybe one day he hears Chigiri singing something under his breath (credit to you friend for the hc that Chigiri can sing :3) and joins in cause he recognizes the tune- it's likely from an anime they both watched at some point. Now the redhead's all: ??? Cause he didn't know Nagi could sing and Nagi's all "Why'd you stop?" cause he was starting to get into it kjarjkekjrjkaejrk

There's so many more, but I'd end up writing a whole novel of characters I think could sing if I didn't stop here ajejrarjajkrjk

Honorable mentions go to:

Akutagawa (BSD): He plays the piano as well!; Mikasa (AOT): She doesn't sing all that much, but if she did it'd be the prettiest sound ever!; Mitsuya (Tokyo Revengers): The man has pipes! If you catch him in the Home Etc. room after school working on the Toman Jackets, you'll find out he's got one heck of a singing voice!; Finral (Black Clover): Him and Vanessa can sing- sometimes they do little duets!

Thanks for asking!

[ourrechte-blog]

Without a Link in Hyrule

This is spawned from a discussion about Link deciding to stay on Soul Calibur earth and his kid going to Hyrule in his place. I said that the idea also works for Termina and Koholint, so…

------

The world shook. The heavens boomed. And a child cowered in her mother's arms as the waves crashed against the boat they occupied. "Mother, I'm scared," the child cried.

Her mother just held onto her as tight as she could. "I know," the woman soothed. "I know things are scary, but you need to be brave," she says, gently rubbing the child's back. "Right now, your father's fighting to save you."

"You mean us," the child corrected. The woman held a sad smile and shook her head, there were slight tears in her eyes. "No, just you."

The child was confused, before her mother elaborated to the child, despite the raging storm around them. "Human. Monster. Sea. Sky. A scene on the lid of a sleeper's eye. Awake the dreamer and Koholint will vanish much like a bubble on a needle…" her mother spoke.

"W-what?" she asked after hearing it.

"This island… no, this entire world exists within a dream,” the woman explains. “Link explained it to me his plan. And I agree with it. Your father and I won't survive this. But if everything goes well, you will," she says forlornly.

"Mother!" The girl screamed, pointing at a mountain shattering. The woman turns her gaze towards the cataclysm before returning her attention to her child. "Your father and I love you," she says, as she braces for the finale.

"Wait!" the child cried. "What is it?" her mother asked. "Sing. One last time," she begged.

"Of course," her mother says soothingly and, taking the child's hand in her own, sang one last time. "Sleepers wake…"

The child closed her eyes as her mother's song drowned out the world ending around them. The rocking of the boat no longer registered as she succumbed to darkness.

When she regained awareness, she found herself clinging to driftwood. Among her mother's last words were to be brave. So she tried her hardest to not cry.

She failed, but salty tears were hardly noticeable among the salty waters of the sea, and still managed to collect the supplies that had fallen overboard.

"I'm scared," she whispered to herself. "I want them back," she wept. "I can't do this without you. Mother, Father," she begged as the sky darkened around her. Surprised, she looked up, dreading another storm only to find a large fish like creature flying above her and a familiar melody echoed through the air. Her eyes were wide as the Wind Fish soared through the air, its ballad-no, her mother’s song-accompanied it.

She sniffled and a sad smile formed on her face. "I won't forget either of you. And I'll think of you," she promised, imagining her parents looking down and watching over her.

“I’ll make you both proud. I’ll be a union of your songs,” she says to sky. “That’s why isn’t it?” she ponders. “That’s why you named me Medley.”

------

I have no plans to continue this since it’s not part of my actual fic

[kyetalksshit]

hi y'all it's been forever since I've done a dream post but I had two nightmares last night, the first of which woke me up and had me scared to fall back asleep 🙃

My first nightmare was honestly the scarier one but also much shorter. So I'm talking to a guy who my dream self had a fling with as children. (He does not exist irl lol)

We're laughing and reminiscing and telling the story (to my mom??? I think???) and he's like omg yeah because remember I kissed you that first time? And I'm like OH Omg yeah in that dark hospital hallway right??? And he's like yeah exactly!

And suddenly that's just where we are?? In this dark abandoned hospital except we're adults now and my mom isn't there so we're just reminiscing together. It's like the memory just appeared as we remembered it. He goes "yeah remember I just - (and the like puts an arm on the wall above me and leans in like he's ABOUT to kiss me but he doesn't) went for it like this??" And there's not like tension, neither of us are trying to rekindle anything so I'm just standing there very close to this man as he leans over me and I laugh. I'm like "omg yeah! And as soon as you kissed me I ran out of the hallway and made you come with me because I was scared of the dark?" And he laughs and agrees, and then i glance to the right and there's this human sized gnome statue that I never noticed before. Blue hat, yellow shirt, white gloves, biggest creepiest smile I've ever seen and his ceramic eyes are staring right at me from the side. I see it and shuffle a little closer to dude and make the mistake of saying out loud:

"Yeah I'm more scared of the dark now than I was as a kid." Like as a general statement that can also apply here yk?

And it was like saying that gave the gnome the agency to act. Its hand moved. Dude says something else but I can't understand much anymore because of the terror I feel at this gnome but I also know if we start running it'll be worse. So I inch away (dude is no longer leaning over me) and say something back, trying to act normal. But the second I avert my eyes and look at dude and inch away, the gnome moves again, this time blocking any further movement. I'm literally in a corner and the gnome grabs my ankles. Dude runs away at my behest.

Now that we're alone, the gnome's movements are still slow and robotic but it doesn't wait for me to look away. It starts to crush me, the huge creepy smile and ceramic eyes fixed on me but not moving. It crushes my ankles, my ribs, my jaw, all slowly and one piece at a time. I switch between first and third person POV as I am slowly crushed to death, and I vividly watch my jaw break, my teeth crack and then slowly fall out of my head, and blood start to pour out of my mouth. And then in first person, I collapse and lay my head on a white car trunk (reminiscent of the piece of garbage I drove for a month irl).

And then I woke up irl and desperately tried to distract my brain with fun happy things that would be ok to dream about because I did NOT want to see that gnome again. Even now at 11am and after having a whole second elaborate and scary dream, that gnome is clear as day. 😰

The second felt like an astral games situation, I remember running through the woods a lot with my mom I think? And at some point I ended up at this castle. There's a lot of chaos, something else did try to kill me but it's a bit blurry. But then at one point I was sitting with my sister and like one or two other people (we were eating or playing a game or something, unsure) when my mom walked in. She said something about one of the guys in the castle leaving a hint that there was a body in his room and we had to listen to the song playing over the radio. Each line went down like a half octave or something and I sang along how it was supposed to go so we could hear it ourselves. The song was absolutely going down in pitch and we started freaking out and then my mom and I ran in his quarters to look for the body. The lady we saw on the floor was apparently someone related to us, my aunt or something (in dreamland, not irl) and she was sprawled out on the floor.

Just then, dude walks in while we're standing over her body freaking out and he's like why are y'all in here, etc. My mom says she's gonna tell someone and he gets violent, we're hiding and runnjng, etc. I remember multiple fights to the death with him and various people outside the castle while we all hid from him. I was like behind cars and stuff and staying hidden and far enough away to run if he saw me but close enough to see what was going on.

Atp he had morphed into looking like a coworker of mine that makes me uncomfortable. For the purpose of this post we'll use Dennis and he/him to describe this person. So Dennis has already killed somebody and is now in a super intense fight where his opponent is behind this weird thing that almost looks like a soccer goal but there are giant square holes, it's not really a net, and someone is holding it up while he stabs his sword through, trying to stab Dennis. He keeps missing though because Dennis backs away just enough each time to avoid the sword. But then someone else from the castle runs up behind Dennis and pushes him straight into the blade. Everyone cheers and we're all relieved that this violent person has finally been stopped.

Except he wasn't stopped because he seems dead for a second and then he reanimates, but monstrous this time. Like now that Dennis is out of the way (who WAS also a violent killer) this demon or whatever is in control (or that was always his truth, unclear). Anyway he reanimates and everyone scatters and screams and he goes on a rampage, but this time he traps everyone inside the castle. And he somehow just KNOWS where everyone is so I can't hide. He's got us all quaking in our boots while we do our tasks and pretend everything is fine and he's in charge and there are still bodies out front but ok.

At some point I have a friend who is a close confidant of Dennis. She starts going into town dressed as different characters to "spread the good word" and try to make allies for Dennis. Thanks to her I manage to slip outside undetected but I have to stay close enough to the castle to not trigger any alarms. I'm up in a tree and watching as she comes back day after day with reports on diplomatic relationships and stuff.

Then, since I've been working with her on it, I don a whole getup and pretend to be a nun from town visiting the castle to determine if we want to help. I look VERY convincing. One of the brute guards that actually is on Dennis' side demands to know why I look so familiar. I tell a false story about being part of the "great cleanse" (or something like that) years ago and was tortured here (implying you should feel shame for what you did, I suffered so much and I remember him being part of it). He's squinting at me and trying to disprove it and wants to know details I don't have ofc but my friend comes and sweeps me away to give me a tour of the castle.

Guard must have alerted Dennis or something because Dennis is on a RAMPAGE I mean screaming and being violent and such. I hear him coming when I'm out on the balcony and I hear him (so clearly like my coworker and looking so much that way too even in the dream I was like OMFG ITS DENNIS?!?!?!) and he's coming right toward me screaming my name. He def saw me for a second around the corner so I just take off running, which only makes him more upset. He starts chasing me and I'm trying to zip around corners so he won't see me but he keeps knowing exactly where I am, so I'm like fuck it I'm risking it, and I start jumping down to floors that are below me and eventually into the trees theirselves.

And at some point, still being actively pursued, I wake up. 😮‍💨

[knottedskein]

(This is a letter written to my baby nephew one year after his birth.)

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

Querido sobrino,

Do you remember when you were a little bean? You probably don't, but your mamis do! You were a little baby bean in Mommy's belly. Mommy and Mami were so excited and they held onto you like their dearest little secret with all ten of their fingers and smiled because they knew they would soon have someone new to love.

I remember the first day when your mamis told me that I would be a tía and that a little baby bean was growing. Soon, we all knew, because this little baby bean was starting to grow ten little fingers and ten little toes. So your mamis shared their little secret with the whole wide world! And the whole wide world knew that a little baby bean would sprout into a little baby boy and be welcomed into the whole wide world with so much love and joy from his mamis, abuelitos, tías, and tíos. And they all smiled because they knew how much they are going to love you.

I remember the day when you, my little nephew bean, sprouted. I couldn't wait to meet you! Your mamis told me all about your ten perfect tiny fingers and ten perfect tiny toes. They told me how you were already smiling, because you knew how much you are loved.

I remember the first day I met you, little sprout. You were just as perfect as your mamis told me you would be. Ten perfect tiny fingers and ten perfect tiny toes. You always had a smile on your face because you knew you are loved.

I sang you lullabies about blackbirds and walruses. Sweet whispered songs about yellow submarines and octopus gardens. I carried you around the colorful dreams of creators and imaginators. We baked elaborate patty cakes with all ten of our fingers. Then we pondered about little diamonds in the sky. And I smiled at you because I knew I loved and will always love you.

Happy birthday, little sprout. Your tía Bibi loves you very much.

[b0kksu]

   The beauty of luscious green that he once tended to with nimble hands, warmth that exhibits itself in long digits, he loved the way each vine would grow. In these halls, his figure would move with a feline-like elegance, the eternal boy that burned with a purity all too lost in this cruel world, he would laugh && call it home. The song remains the same, encapsulated in times, a reputation that forced his hands to move in the same rhythm, just like before, one, two, three - dance. All that is missing was sunlight, the absence that grows thick over time && somewhere, in the void of darkness he wondered if his heart became lost too. Satoru could not weep, crying was an unthinkable act, he was to be higher than a regular ghoul, a dream that no human could conjure up in their wildest of fantasies.

    Why was he here? In mid air, his fingers stop && eerie nature the all perfection in pristine white appears confused. I live here, he wants to retort, I have lived here long before && even when you were gone. In another life, the bench would be occupied by them both, there would never be an empty seat in the audience. “My house is near, the train station isn’t too far, don’t you remember?” luxurious neighbors with their pristine French deco homes, obscene wealth && fancy cars, he walked their streets - none were the wiser. Satoru, Satoru, Satoru they sang his name in saccharine coos, interviews, glossy magazine sheets with his image upon them, would they butcher their idol if they knew the reality? Without hesitation.  His eyes roll, behind the designer brand glasses that sit on the bridge of his nose - this time, the wire frame is switched for red glossy cherry, jelly like, absurdly carefree.

  “It’s fine, I bought it yesterday, it won’t spoil” he doesn’t elaborate any deeper, there was no need, those who could not hunt had the option of meat via butchers - the irony made him want to laugh. There’s a low hiss, guttural && irritated, he loved that song. Precious, like a prayer he selfishly made when everything told him to become an altar, the fabled one eyed god who must give, even when his corpse was licked clean, his bones would never be his own. “Stop, I’m not arguing with you anymore” exasperated he sounds nostalgic, the phantom-like mimicry of their collective story, Suguru always worries even when he had no obligation. Hunger is another word for yearning, in a world where might && strength triumphed over all, he had no qualms cackling in the midst of a battle high; then, why must it be so difficult to protest when they were together? “You’re not supposed to be here” neither is he.

      The single bed that nudges sweetly against the window, he wants to curl into the soft fabric && wait till morning, let the light kiss his cool cheeks, feed the absence of a love that has paused once used to. Immaculate nails curl into his palms, leaving behind crescent indents, the eye weeps && red always remained to be his color. It’s low, a desperate chitter that entwines itself in the casualty of their shared dialect, a lilt that rivals the melody he plays spoken sweetly && heart wrenching.

     “You’re just as starved as I, don’t you see it? A couple of pastries can’t fill our bellies. Not even a fresh kill, it’s why we can’t leave this place, the fridge could be filled with the most sweetest of cuts && we’d still starve to death” his pale grasp reaches upwards, coiling around the other’s wrist && there is a hesitation in his touch as he taunts. “My mate used to feed me from his palms, he knew each cut, there are times I ponder - does he remember or has he willfully forgotten?”   

The small gods of the sacred places Geto Suguru penetrates in his forbidden return knew the truth: his whole existence was a violation. It's in the creaking of the wooden floors and the low humming of the refrigerator kept well-stocked and running ( no one's turned off the electricity here; someone's still paying the bills and leaving foot prints on the carpet, so the spores never have a chance to settle even if the still air grows stale and bitter with time — but no one lives here anymore; they just come and go, shake the dust and breathe in mothballs like imperfect guests in the wake of perfect residents laid to rest with one last goodbye that spans the length of his whole life and follows him like the corpse of his errors and the spirit in his ear that asks: is the house haunted or is it him? look at you, Suguru, always making ghosts for yourself but you can't stay dead / you can't stay gone / why'd you even leave? ), and how the apartment sighs when inhabited by bodies that have never left. Not really, anyway.

( He closes his eyes and he's sixteen again, with his whole life ahead of him, and this place is home and not a hiding place: a place he hides in his heart, a place that stays hidden, a place he wishes he could hide. He feels like a stranger in this place. )

“Why are you here?” He addresses the wraith sat on the piano bench, but it's only a delusion to think Satoru remains untouched by time even if he plays the same song. It's missing violin accompaniment: a companion ( and whose fault is that? ). He stops to listen to the melody of the past as Satoru talks about modern things with a thin voice. It's the fault of humans. “Don't tell me you're hiding from Doves and starving yourself. Waiting for a sale?” There's no point in waiting for the perfect moment. “You should take what you need from them. I'll check the meat.” ( In this way, he makes himself useful. ) “If it's gone bad, we're going hunting. The Family Mart's open 24/7.” Everyone needs to make ends meet. He thinks they needed it more than them. He thinks they have never really been hungry enough if they call places of nourishment convenience stores. All humans cared about was their own convenience. That's all the more reason Suguru, a ghoul whose existence was inconvenient, needed to take from them. They've taken something from him; among their history of taking, they've committed a theft most unforgivable. They've stolen something they should never have touched as long as he was alive. “Satoru.”

He closes the lid to the piano and hides the monochrome keys that divide the song in black and white. “You're coming with me. I can tell you're hungry.”

[strrvnge]

The 1

part 1

Pairing: Stephen Strange x reader

Warnings: kinda angsty, unedited (also im sick so im not overly proud of it, I wished I could say choosing her birthday is a coincidence but it realy isn’t ,for my swifties out there you should listen to illicit affairs, exile, betty, this is me trying-okay thats it)

summery: after years after the breakup Stephen finds you hoping you’ll forgive him

Stephen Strange had changed. After a deadly accident that made him lose everything and after defeating a demon in another dimension that led to him becoming the protector of that reality he really had changed.

With no strings holding him in the past he had become a brand new person with literally knowledge of everything. Why did he still think of you however was a question he didn't even dare to answer.

Ever since the accident you were always in his mind, haunting every thought of his. Sometimes he recalled how you sang to the same song that happened to play on the radio the days he was at the hospital, how fascinated you'd be if you knew that magic was real and even now when he sat at the Sanctorum looking at the starry night.

Of course he had promised himself a long time ago that he would never reach out to you -not after that night. So all those years he avoided asking about you when he saw some mutual friend, not even Google you up.

He said it was for you but honestly he just couldn't face you. As immature as it might be he even feared the possibility of bumping into you on the street. He really wanted you to have moved on after what he did to you, the thought that you were somewhere now happy, making your dreams true eased his sleep at night but then again he really wished he was living that with you. That he was happy with you, just like it was supposed to be.

But that was before the accident. Before his life turned upside down and he had become a new man that saw the world from a different perspective. Also he had been thinking about you more than ever, now torturing his mind. Perhaps seeing you would bring him some kind of salvation. He had hurt you after all. He owed you an apology.

So with the help of modern technology he found out you were having a party in your parents' holiday house near the lake for all your college friends to come. Of course he shuddered with the thought of going to a birthday party after the last one-but this time was different.

Hurting you was still an open wound for him and the only way of healing was only through you. For years you had been his little secret he hadn't spoken of you to anyone and now he would finally find the courage to see you, talk to you, make it up to you.

So there he was standing on your doorstep and even though he was planning it for weeks, only now did it start sinking in and he swore he couldn't feel his legs.

Like a tall child he stood outside your doorstep, awkward and nervous, just staring at the door as if it was to open by itself.

Right now it was the last moment he could dream about what would happen when you saw his face. With sweaty hands he rang the bell, took a step back and waited.

"Coming!" His heart skipped a beat, he almost had forgotten your voice.

The knot in his stomach tightened.

"Well it was about-" The door opened widely, revealing your figure, the warm smile in your face quickly disappearing the moment you realise who it was "time"

It was you. After all those years you stood before him in all your grace. It was like there hadn't been a day since the last time he saw you, you looked the same; your hair might have been a few shades darker and longer yet there were still the same delicate features, that big warm smile and those starry eyes that made him feel like home just with one glance.

And perhaps he was home.

"Stephen" His name left your lips like the sweetest lullaby and suddenly he had forgotten every elaborate speech he had prepared.

"Hi" His once shaky legs were now frozen to the ground "I hope I'm not interrupting", he said looking behind you inside the house where loud noises of chattering and music were heard.

"Oh no. I'm having a party " You looked at where the sound came from. "It's my birthday"

"I know. I remember" You nodded and gave him a weak smile, making it impossible for him to understand if you were happy to see him or not."I really hope I'm not interrupting"

"No, no"you nervously said.

He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't intrude into your life like this. Not after all those years. Not after what he did. This was a terrible terrible id-.

"So…come inside?" you said and opened the door wider for him to come in. "I mean you're obviously here for the party so we can't leave you here"

"Yes, thank you" Hope suddenly sparkled inside of him. You didnt tell him to fuck off so that was a good start.

"Can I take your coat?", you asked once he got inside and he politely took it off and gave it to you.

"I brought you a gift" He took out of his pocket a small black box but before you could take it a woman rushed out of the kitchen grabbing your attention.

"Y/N we have a canapés situation and we kinda need ya' ", she said and pointed to the kitchen.

"Oh of course Anne. I'll be right back", you gave him a small smile before wandering off, leaving him there alone.

⚛

"Found you", you chirped, approaching him out on the balcony.

"I can't believe you actually bought a telescope. I mean I knew you always wanted one but I never knew you wanted it that bad" Stephen knew he had to play it cool, make the situation as comfortable as possible. He just wished you could look him in the eyes.

"I actually use it more than I'd like to admit", you chuckled and stood beside him, still avoiding eye contact. "So how are you?"

"I'm good. You?"

You nodded, muttering a small 'good' and then you returned into that deadly heavy silence.

Stephen had never been so terrified of silence. Once he wouldn't mind, as it was just proof of how comfortable you were with, staying with him just because you enjoyed his presence and not because there was something to be said. Now you felt distant, cold and even though he understood he still hated it.

"Oh my god" you suddenly broke into laughter, the alcohol finally affecting you "I'm so sorry this is just so painfully awkward. What will be our next topic, the weather?"

"Not before I ask you how your family is"

You laughed till your stomach hurt. With your hand you wiped away some tears from your eyes, suddenly your laughs turning into sobs.

"I'm sorry for the accident" you said once you calmed down.

"Oh it's alright. That was a long time ago"he reassured you yet you noticed the way he looked down at his hands.

"I'm sorry for not visiting too"

"You didn't have to. I wouldn't if I were you" He admitted. There were many times at the hospital that he wished for you to come and see how he was, that you still cared about him, that you were worried. He couldn't blame you however when you never came."You sent me flowers though"

"You sound surprised", you said. Both of you continued avoiding each other's gaze, looking away at how the starry sky reflected on the lake's clear waters."What did you do after the accident?"

"At first I tried everything to heal my hands. There were many expensive procedures yet all of them were unsuccessful. I had to sell everything to afford doctors all around the world but everyone said there was nothing that could be done. Then I heard about a place where you're taught how to heal yourself by the power of the mind"

"And you went? I'm sorry but it doesn't really sound much like you", you chuckled and took the last sip from your wine.

Stephen smiled. He had missed the sound of your laugh so much. He had missed talking to you but as the years passed and he never heard of you he knew that wouldn't happen again. Now that he was with you everything felt like a fever dream. Suddenly he was overwhelmed with an unexplained enthusiasm and the need to tell you every little detail of those years he spent without you.

"I was desperate. My job was everything I was left with. I couldn't lose that too" He looked at you but you just stared down at your empty glass. "In a nutshell there we were taught about the Mystic Arts by the Ancient One, the previous Sorcerer Supreme. Then her previous protégé Kaecilius contacted Dormammu, a powerful demon from the Dark Dimension who pretty much wanted to destroy this reality. Then the Ancient died and I had to fight Kaecilius. Now I'm the Sorcerer Supreme and you're welcome"

"You know you can tell me if you had to work as a stripper for a while, right?", in disbelief you chuckled and his heart fluttered. "I mean you didn't have money something had to be done so"

"I'm glad to know you still think I'm equipped enough for the job." He laughed before with a movement of his hands he filled your glass with wine "Sorry to disappoint though"

You gasped dramatically before giving him one of those childish grins he so much loved when you were excited.

"Better than the stripping huh?"he asked and you nodded.

"A little bit" You bit your lower lip to stop your smile from reaching your eyes, hating how he still had you smiling like a kid even after all these years.

"A little bit" He repeated and shook his head, watching how you grip tighter the wooden bannisters, the cold breeze air hitting your face messing with some locks of your hair. You looked so beautiful it broke his heart.

Hesitantly he took your hand in his and you didn't flinch. His thumb caressed slowly your knuckles, trying to remember the softness of your skin, its warmth.

You looked down at his hands, lines starting from his fingertips till they met down at his wrist.

You wondered if it hurted. Ever since you heard about his accident it was everything you thought of. You were worried sick, pondering whether you should visit him or not, if it would be weird or alright. But you couldn't stay away and went to the hospital only to find Christine shaving him. Fortunately they didn't see you so you left in shame cursing yourself for going there even when you knew you'd have your heart broken again. Instead you sent a basket with flowers and a get well card, hoping that was what it took to stop worrying about him. He had moved on with someone else, probably he had forgotten you already, so you should stop caring about him too.

But how you missed and shuddered under his touch was proof you clearly didn't.

"Y/N" He called once your name but it was mostly for him to realise what he was about to do. You looked at him -now in the eyes- and he hated himself for losing that sight even if it were just for a few years "Y/N the real reason I came here wasn't just to wish happy birthday. The truth is I.. I can't stop thinking what would have happened if we-"

"Stephen" you shook your head with disapproval.

"No, please just listen to me. You can't imagine how many times I had this conversation in my head, how many times I held myself back from coming here and saying it. But keeping it inside of me is the most painful thing I could ever do so let me-"

"Stephen", you cut him off more sternly understanding where the conversation was going

"I know I've made mistakes and that I hurt you. You obviously don't have to forgive me I understand that. You have every right to be angry and disgusted by me because you were so sweet and understanding and I was a coward. I just-"

"Y/N" Before Stephen could continue you immediately turned around at the sound of your name.

"There's the party girl" Stephen frowned as the man wrapped his hand around your waist and gave you a kiss on the cheek"Oh didn't know you had company"

"Stephen, this is James. James Stephen" As you introduced them James hold became tighter pushing you against his chest, making Stephen clenched his jaw "Stephen's… a friend from med school"

"Oh nice to meet you man. Why don't we go downstairs baby? I'm supposed to lure you to living room so we can surprise you with the cake"

Stephen heard you chuckled at Jame's terrible attempt of a joke but he took his eyes off how you looked at James.

Just a friend?

"Stephen, do you mind going downstairs first so she can make an entrance?" James snapped him out of his thoughts and Stephen nodded with a fake smile.

Trying to wrap his head around what had just happened, he walked down the stairs as your friends started gathering. Grabbing a martini he moved past them and found a corner to wait. He watched as you walked down the stairs, James always by your side, your friends singing happy birthday, the room lightened up just by a few candles.

"Make a wish"

Closing your eyes you blew the candles and everyone cheered.

"Thank you all for not being here. The surprise was perfect and certainly unexpected" James said and everyone laughed.

God that man was insufferable. How could he get away with such jokes?

"But I have a surprise of my own for Y/N"

No.

"I know we've been together for barely two years but from the first day I knew you were the most fucking perfect woman I've ever know-sorry mom" he started taking your hands into his "Sweet, smart and caring and I know it deep in my heart that you are the one and I don't want to waste any time. So"

No.

James got down on one knee and everyone gasped. "Will you please marry me?"

No, just no.

Stephen rushed out the side door. He had enough.

What the fuck was that? Fancy, crowded parties, a mystery boyfriend, a proposal? No, that night was nothing like he had imagined.

Did your so-called friends know you hate large crowds? Did they know you were always sad on your birthday so you never planned a party? So he always tried to cheer you up, plan something fun yet intimate. Did your soon-to-be husband know how you made fun of couples calling each other baby? But he did. Stephen knew everything about you?

He ran his hands through his face, allowing the cold air to hit his face, soothe his aching mind. Maybe then he could think of something else other than that circus.

"Hey" Stephen quickly turned around as you walked out the door with a smitten smile on your face.

God it hurt him so much, how happy another man had made you.

"I thought you left. Will you stay for the cake?"

Honestly he would rather choke on it than stay and see that idiot kissing and touching you.

"Of course I will. You know I can't say no to cake" He tried to smile but it didn't reach his eyes no matter how much he tried. But then again he didn't want to try. Why would he? This night was nothing he had expected. You're getting married for god's sake.

"Crazy night huh?"he asked, watching how you shyly played with the new ring around your finger, unsure how to feel.

"Oh it's more than crazy" you said with a laugh "I just can't believe it happened, not so quickly and certainly not in front of all this people"

Stephen hummed sarcastically. He didn't want to ruin this night for you. Not when it's supposed to be the happiest day of your life. He had no right. He just could wrap his mind around how impulsively you said yes.

He wasn't jealous. No of course not, you had moved on he had moved on, the only reason he had come here was to apologise. He just couldn't understand how could you in such a few years get over him and so absurdly marry a man you barely know. You weren't dumb to realise that he knows nothing about you, but he did. Stephen did.

"Are you sure though?" He interrupted your rambling "About marrying him"

You giggled but once his piercing gaze met yours you stopped, realising he wasn't joking.

"What?"

"I mean you know each other for just two years, how well do you even know him?"

"Enough to know that he's a good man-"

"A good man", he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Stephen is a good man. I'm sorry, are you doubting my decision?" you asked, noticing his ironic tone.

"No obviously you know the best but it's just two years. We were together for what six years and we didn't thought about marriage once"

"Yes but we- This is different. James is nothing like you"

Even if James was better than him, how could you marry him? How when you once swore Stephen was your whole world?

"Oh please you barely know him to say that" He laughed bitterly.

"Well I knew you and we know how that ended up!" You snapped having enough of his tone.

So yes at the bottom line perhaps Stephen was a little jealous. You were with him for more years than you were with James. He knew you better than anyone else, he loved you more than anything and if he hadn't been such a coward perhaps he would be the one beside you in this stupid party, he would be the one marrying you instead of James so perhaps yes he should be jealous.

And angry, for believing that once you'd forgive him you would go back to him, kiss him, love him. Because he missed you more than anything and the thought that you would never be his again, that you would never kiss him, never look at him with those adoring eyes-it was just not fair.

And now you just stared at him like he was the worst person to exist. Eyes full of rage and bitterness and suddenly that night in his apartment played like a memory in his head.

"You think I would marry someone on a whim?"

"I actually didn't but tonight I guess you proved us both wrong. Two years and he organised you a party for your birthday. That's how much he knows you" He exclaimed

"It's just a party! And if you need to know it was my idea the party Stephen and stop pretending like you know everything about me" you crossed your hands over your chest

"I don't pretend Y/N. I do know everything about you. You know who's pretending though? Him thinking he knows the slightest thing about you and most of all you. Pretending you'll be happy marrying a stranger. Pretending you're happy doing all of this shit!"

"He's not a stranger and this shit is my life. I love James, I love him. I really do. I have no reason not to because he's nice and sweet and funny, he gets along with my friends and family and most importantly he loves me - are you even listening to me?", you yelled

"Oh you're speaking to me? Because honestly it sounds more like you're trying to convince yourself"

Yes he was jealous and yes he shouldn't have tried to make you doubt your decision.

It was selfish and pathetic but he needed you to be wrong, he needed you to truly believe that it was a mistake marrying anyone else other than him. Because then there might have been a chance for him. A chance to make it up to you, make everything right.

He fucked up. He fucked up and now he knew it more than ever. He had never been more jealous of a man as he was now of James. He wanted to be him so so badly. He wanted to wake up to you everyday, he wanted you to be the first and last thing he saw in a day, he wanted to be the one you'd be giving your sweetest smiles. He wanted you to laugh at his jokes, play with his hair and make a mess of it, kiss him in the most random moments. He wanted to live every single moment of his life with you, he wanted to do the simplest, dullest things but with you by his side because you make everything so sweet, so beautiful.

You could give him happiness beyond any woman could, yet you didn't even have the power to look him in the eyes.

"He won't hurt me like you did Stephen. Because he loves me, something you couldn't do not even in six years."

"Of course I loved you Y/N!"he exclaimed, raising his eyebrow. "I loved you more than he could ever in a lifetime"

"When? Where? Where was that love Stephen? When you fucked her and then shamelessly returned to our house, our bed that was your love?" You took a step closer to him "If you ever loved me the slightest you wouldn't have done this to me in the first place. If you loved me you wouldn't have let me go that day"

"Well I do let you go now and believe me it takes a lot more than slightest to do this" he said no table to stop himself

"What?"

Your faces were so close, Stephen could hear your heavy breathing, see the tears in the corners of your eyes you held back all that time. He wanted to cry too. He always hated fighting with you. Like a little boy he wanted to wrap his hands around your legs, making sure you wouldn't go anywhere before shoving his face in your dress so he can away from the world. Suddenly he was afraid, the realisation of this possibly being the last time you ever talk being held like a gun in his head. He had to choose his words wisely for they might be his last.

You stood there waiting for him to answer as if he would speak of the holiest thing, but to be honest he didn't know how to put it in words. There were so many things he wanted to tell you and he never got the chance.

"Y/N '' someone got outside and called your name but none of you turned around.

Don't go.

Suddenly he wondered what would happen if he just kissed you. Cup your cheeks and then kiss you with the most deep, innocent kiss. Maybe that would make you stay, make you choose him over everyone else in that stupid party. He needed you to choose him. He needed you to forgive him because if you didn’t he wasn't sure he would ever be able to forgive himself.

"Y/N!"

You didn't want to go to whoever called you. You just looked deep into his eyes and for an odd yet familiar reason it felt the right place to be. For one more time you found yourself begging for him to say something, anything but you felt it deep in your bones that he wouldn't say anything.

Tears streamed down your face and Stephen wished he had the courage to wipe them away. He wished he had the courage to say the right thing, make all your pain go away, if there was any. But he knew better and he knew you did too. He wasn't going to do anything. He would just let you go.

"No one can hurt me like you, Stephen Strange."

You couldn't look at him anymore. You just turned around and walked towards the door. You were tired of waiting and hoping and longing for him for so many years. You just wanted to rest from everything and everyone. You would go inside to your soon-to-be husband and laugh at stupid jokes while pretending you enjoy yourself and that conversation with Stephen never happened.

Stephen Strange would forever be an open wound for you.

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[todayesterday]

Hi there, darling. :)

I just saw your (completely heart shattering) post about John and Paul’s song “call and response.” I’m wondering if you know where I can find a list of all of the Paul and/or John songs that are confirmed (or speculated) to be about each other or about the other.

Thank you so much. I appreciate you!!

[re: there's a story]

thank you very much for your kind words! i was planning to provide a more complete answer to this ask, and planned to elaborate a little bit on each one - particularly the ones that speculated - to explain with sources and such why they are/might be about john/paul, but i ended up never getting around to it, so i wanted to give you the list i came up with and just a few (not-that-serious, my-mind-deteriorates-more-the-further-down-you-go) thoughts on the songs, with the disclaimer that these are the ones i remembered and the ones i believe to be about the two of them (apart from the ones we know for a fact):

if i fell, by john — speculated, but. but!

in my life, by john — I know I'll often stop and think about them / In my life I love you more. i mean.

here, there and everywhere, by paul — paul wrote this in john's house waiting for john to wake up and join him. plus john said this was his favorite beatle song. and paul said it was his too because john loved it so much. plus, this ain't about jane asher. like, there's no way

hey jude, by paul — ok so john is the one who speculated this might be about him and therefore who am i to argue with him (and i agree that the 'go out and get her' thing might very well be about yoko)

two of us, by paul — not even paul believes himself anymore when he says this is about linda

i’ve got a feeling, by paul — All these years I've been wandering around / Wondering how come nobody told me / All that I was looking for was somebody / Who looked like you (this is speculation and might be a long shot but i don't care they sing this one together and i can't imagine it being about anything else)

the long and winding road, by paul — sad and gay

oh! darling, by paul — sad and gay, very much intesified (plus he sings hey johnny)

don’t let me down, by john — might not be 100% about paul but. they said it themselves, there's a story. they were communicating.

i found out, by john — I've seen religion from Jesus to Paul might be the queerest line ever sang by anybody

too many people, by paul — song wars: the beginning

3 legs, by paul — just trust me

dear boy, by paul — another one where john is the one doing the speculation but i agree with him

how do you sleep, by john — the start of john using paul songs to reference paul

jealous guy, by john — sad and gay, john ver.

dear friend, by paul — paul said so. this one keeps me up at night sometimes

best friend, by paul — this fucking song... dreaming about you... screaming out over you... TELL ME WHY WHY WHY DO TREAT ME SO BAD..

let me roll it, by paul — not the lyrics necessarily but the vibe, which paul admitted is a very big nod to john

beef jerky, by john — so naturally what john does is ripping of the riff of the above song. they did these kinds of shit and called it communicating

i know (i know), by john — yeah.... this one has so many references to paul (yesterday, just like he did with hdys) and it's just... yeah... now I am sad and gay

call me back again, by paul — john lennon for the love of god pick up the phone

coming up, by paul — :( they were about to be together again

(just like) starting over, by john — i could write a 456 page essay on this one and all the paul references he managed to squeeze in but i will say take a trip somewhere far far away is about hitchhiking to paris

grow old with me, by john — this one is on me i just like being sad

i’m stepping out (demo), by john — I MEAN (and another reference to yesterday)

free as a bird, by john and paul — i just think that can we really live without each other

real love, by john — you know, it fits so well with i've got a feeling's "all that i've waiting for was somebody who looked like you"

here today, by paul

the lovers that never were, by paul — I hang patiently on every word you send / Will we ever be much more than just friends? / As for you, you sit there playing this game, / You keep me waiting / When all of the clocks have run down, / We'll be the lovers that never were (do you ever just cry? plus there's a small reference to i know i know there too)

this one, by paul — paul even said this is about john and i do cry myself to sleep listening to it once every blue moon

yvonne's the one, by paul — She'll never know how much I loved her / I never got to tell / We never had the chance to say farewell. speculation too, but it fits very well

early days, by paul — about the beatles in general but about john too

there are probably more out there, but i think these are the main ones. here is a spotify playlist with all of them if you're interested in that as well!

[snailor-bee]

Songfics Part Eleven

I'm back!! My friend wrote me an AMAZING songfic and got me really into the idea again! The last time I did these I’m unsure if I talked a lot to @sugxrslushy or @childofblackmaria but since then they've been super lovely friends to me. ;u; So I wanted to do some for them. I hope you both enjoy!

I wanted to do a Roger to this but my hair appointment got moved up so I gotta RUN. Sorry Lale yours is so sad?!?! Why is Rayleigh built for sadness I don't understand.

GN!Reader / SFW / 1.9k Characters: Rayleigh and Perona Warnings: Rayleigh's is pretty sad y'all, I'm sorry. The song was just to perfect I couldn't resist.

Song: Nati Dreddd - Caledonia

I don't know if you can see the changes that have come over me, In these last few days I've been afraid that I might drift away.

So I've been telling old stories, singing songs, that make me think about where I come from That's the reason why I seem so far away today.

You set a concerned hand on Rayleigh’s shoulder, jolting the man as he tore his eyes away from the fire.

“Are you alright?” you asked and he smiled.

It didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Fine, fine, just lost in my thoughts.” Rayleigh grabbed onto your wrist gently and tugged you into his lap. He wrapped his arms around your waist while burrowing his face into the crook of your neck.

After a long enough pause that told you he wasn’t going to elaborate you hesitantly asked, “Beli for your thoughts?”

Rayleigh chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. “Thinking about the past.” Before you could ask further he went on, “Want to hear a sea shanty?”

Even though you knew he was only asking to distract you, you really couldn’t resist. Rayleigh so rarely sang but you loved it every time. Voice a deep baritone it shook you down to your knees whenever he did, the way he gazed straight at you, whiskey rough voice singing softly just for you. Smiling, you agreed, thinking you’d dig a little deeper later.

Let me tell you that I love you and I think about you all the time Caledonia you're calling me and now I'm going home

But if I should become a stranger you know that it would make me more than sad Caledonia's been everything I've ever had

“What was it like?” you asked one night in bed, staring at his weathered face. Rayleigh cocked a brow at you in question, but the knowing smile told you he knew what you were asking for. He just wanted to hear you say it. “Traveling with Roger and the others.”

His silver eyes, normally obscured by glasses went a little distant as he thought about it. “Amazing. The best time of my life, it made me feel alive.”

When you shuffled into yourself a little more his eyes focused once more on your own and he reached out to run a hand down your side, the worn palms catching on your skin slightly. “Don’t be upset.”

“I’m not,” you said, and you meant it. “I just wish…I could do more for you. I see the way you look sometimes, so sad and I just wish…I could fill more of that void for you.” You reached out and cupped his cheek, thumbing at the skin before trailing your hand down to run through his white beard.

Rayleigh’s eyes flashed and for a moment you felt pressure weigh you down before it released. With the hand on your side he pulled you closer, into his chest. “I love you. Don’t worry about it, you do more than enough. What I lost, it can’t be replaced but that doesn’t mean this life is bad either. Just different.” He kissed your forehead, but you still weren’t entirely soothed.

I have moved and I've kept on moving, proved the points that I needed proving Lost the friends that I needed losing, found others on the way

I have tried and I've kept on trying, stolen dreams, yes there's no denying I have traveled hard sometimes with conscience flying somewhere in the wind

Still, even if Rayleigh denied it, you couldn’t help but notice the way he looked, at times when he didn’t think you were watching. The way the lines in his face seemed deeper as he stared out at the horizon. The way he drifted—mid-task he’d just stop and stare into nothing, lost in thought. The drinking until dawn. He tried to joke like it was just something pirates did but you weren’t fooled.

Drinking might be what pirates did, but they weren’t drinking everyday to escape into the past. They were drinking to celebrate what they had. You understood the difference and was sure Rayleigh did as well.

You bit your lip with indecision. You knew Rayleigh was a wanderer at heart. When the two of you first started, you were fine with it. Always figured he’d leave eventually. A small blip of time with the legendary man, nothing more.

But then he stayed. And kept on staying.

It felt almost unfair, like forcing you to fall in love with him was a test somehow. To see if it would be enough to fill that ache inside him.

As you watched him, hands frozen half-finished putting up the laundry on a line looking out at the sea you knew it wasn’t enough and your heart ached with all that meant.

Now I'm sitting here before the fire, the empty room the forest choir The flames that couldn't get any higher they've withered now they've gone

But I'm steady thinking, my way is clear and I know what I will do tomorrow When the hands have shaken and the kisses flow then I will disappear

Another night in front of the fireplace, Rayleigh stared into its flames a bottle of booze dangling from his fingertips. You tsked before sweeping in to pull it from his loose grip.

“Careful, you’ll spill it everywhere.”

Rayleigh hummed and his melancholy mood seemed to lift just a little as he looked you over, his eyes sparkling. Quicker than you could see, he snatched you up making you screech as you dropped the bottle.

“Rayleigh,” you hissed out angerily, hearing the bottle clatter to the floor. “What are you doin—mmph!”

He silenced you with a hard kiss. Automatically your hands went up to tangle into his white hair as he settled you against him, a strong hand at the back of your neck and the other wrapping around your waist.

Although Rayleigh was engaged that night, covering you with kisses and present in a way he so often wasn’t, there was still something that nagged you about it. But even knowing that, you still got lost in his kisses, in his love.

Let me tell you that I love you and I think about you all the time Caledonia you're calling me and now I'm going home

When you woke up the next morning to an empty bed with only a note on the pillow, you weren’t surprised, even if you felt your heart breaking already.

Opening it, your eyes were hot with unshed tears as you read,

Sorry love, I just can’t help it. You’re lovely I just gotta go home. xRayleigh

Home. How you hated that word. As if you weren’t trying to make one with him, here. Your tears splashed, smearing the ink.

But if I should become a stranger you know that it would make me more than sad Caledonia's been everything I've ever had

Song: Alice Phoebe Lou - Witches

You've got this golden way of making my body sway Of making my mind fly away Of making it fly

Hearing a voice echo down the hall you stopped in your tracks. There was only one woman in the castle but you’ve never heard her sing before. Entranced you followed the sound closer. There was a door barely ajar, and you pushed it open wider, the thick carpet covering any sound.

Perona stood in front of a mannequin, fabric pinned to its frame. Her ghosts danced around her as she sang, rotating her hips.

It's a world I love to be in Come on, let's go high above the ceiling Oh, what we could be feeling Oh, what we could be feeling

Putting a hand in the air she did a spin, closing her eyes.

I'm one of those witches, babe I'm one of those witches, babe Just don't try to save me ‘Cause I don't wanna be saved

“Wow,” you breathed before you slapped a hand over your mouth in horror, eyes widening. Perona stopped singing at once, large dark eyes snapping open to see you hovering in the open doorway.

“What are you doing here!?” she screamed with rage, and you held out both hands in apology.

“I heard singing and wanted to see! I’m sorry!”

Perona looked so angry, her face flushed to an alarming level of pink and her ghosts drifted closer menacingly.

“I really liked it!” you said loudly before flinching back, expecting to be hit with a hollow and begin groveling on the ground. When nothing happened, you squinted open an eye.

She still looked upset but both hands were fisted in her skirt, and she pouted. “My singing? You liked it?”

Seeing your chance, you nodded your head quickly. “Yes! I loved it, can I hear more?”

Perona narrowed her eyes at you before she gestured you impatiently into the room. Eagerly you came closer, deftly avoiding the hollows that still floated around and giggled at you. When she pointed at the couch you took a seat without argument.

“Now, where was I?” she asked herself, index finger pressed against her chin in thought.

“I’m one of those witches,” you repeated without prompting. She hummed before opening her mouth.

Me, I've got my own little magic And I'm not tryna wreak havoc It's just that sometimes I see something and I just need to have it Let's share a few dirty habits Let's share a few dirty habits

Now that she had an audience, she definitely put more of a performance into it. Swaying her body more, she kept your gaze as she sang, beckoning you with a finger at the last few lines.

You pointed at yourself with a confused look, not sure if she actually meant you to come closer or not. When she nodded you gulped before standing.

Last night when you pulled through I put a spell on the moon It was three times the size In your moon-lit eyes

Perona tugged you close before running a hand through your hair, nails scraping as she sang. You shivered at the attention.

And I sang you an old tune Mom sang me when I was half the size And I looked at you and your moon-lit eyes And your moon-lit eyes

Leaning against you, she pressed her chest against you, singing so close to your lips you felt the air puff against them, and you shook with expectation and wanting.

I'm one of those witches, babe I'm one of those witches, babe Just don't try to save me ‘Cause I don't wanna be saved

Then suddenly, she pulled away with a familiar laugh, leaving you standing there dazed and confused.

“You didn’t actually think I’d kiss you, did you?!” she said with a smirk.

You shifted awkwardly before you frowned. “You could have just let me stay on the couch, I was enjoying the song just fine without the teasing.”

Rolling her eyes, she pushed at you, causing you to crash back into the couch. You opened your mouth to complain but was quickly silenced when she followed you down, climbing into your lap.

“Geeze, you’re so dense. Obviously, I wanted you to kiss me. I don’t sing for just anyone you know,” she said with a pout.

Blinking, you rested your hands at her hips as she sat above you, folding her arms and looking huffy.

“Oh. Give me another chance?”

She sniffed. “Don’t think you deserve it now.”

“Aww come on, Princess, just for me?”

“Hmph.” But still she conceded and started to sing the last bar.

I'm one of those witches, babe I'm one of those witches, babe Just don't try to save me—

You reached up and pulled her down before she could finish the last line into a bruising kiss. Your teeth clicked together and the both of you winced before changing the angle and trying again and it was perfect. Everything you thought it would be and you sighed happily.

‘Cause I don't wanna be saved

[ellana-ravenwood]

Good Night Rituals - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : You have a special little way to tuck your children in, to tell them “Goodnight” and send them off to have sweet dreams, and they absolutely love it. It makes, however, your Bruce a little jealous, at times...

When I was a kid, my mom used to sing to my brother and I a song every night, after our bed time story, and then she’d tell us she loved her, we’d in turn be like “I love you from here to the Moon !” and it’d go for a good half an hour of arguing over who loved the other one most...It inspired this mini-fic. Something very short, again to make you wait for longer more elaborate stuffs. Sorry i’m being slow, a lot of things (good things) is happening and I have very little time. I hope you will like this little thing :) : 

My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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Dick

Dick is the one that invented this little “night ritual”. 

He told you this was the perfect name for it, because it sounded like you were witches up to no good, and he “loved that for you two”. 

Of course, it was fairly obvious he’d be the instigator of it all, as he was the oldest child. Your first little kiddo. Oh, but you helped too. 

The good ol’ days, during which you had absolutely NO idea how to raise a child. When you and Bruce, frankly, hadn’t been adults for THAT long, considering. 

And yet, and you were sure it was entirely thanks to little Dickie, everything came to you naturally. Everything felt right. Even if sometimes, you were a little clumsy. 

Both you and Bruce tried so hard though. To make Dick feel home. And like you were his parents. You never tried to replace his mom and dad. But in Dick’s own words, you just slowly became his chance at having parents again. 

Becoming Dick’s mom, and Dick’s dad, didn’t mean he forgot the ones he lost. It just meant he loved you as much as he loved them. And though the loss would forever hurt, he did know both John and Mary Grayson would’ve want him to be happy. 

And at Wayne Manor ? With you and Bruce ? He became happy. There was a few rough and dark first days, but things slowly build up. 

You became a family. You were his parents, now. And he knew, that his mom and dad wouldn’t be mad at him if he “moved on”, and allowed himself to love again. 

Bruce often said that he adopted Dick because he didn’t want the boy to become him. And in that simple fact, in that simple way little Dick Grayson understood he still had a chance at being happy, at having a family...He was already extremely different from his “new” dad. 

At least, from when he was at his age. 

Mission accomplished. 

In any case, this parent thing that was thrown your way, became one of the most important thing you’ve ever done in your life. 

And again, although there were some clumsy moments, and not everything was always great (Dick had some mighty fit of rage at times, Bruce could be a jerk, and hell sometimes you needed to get away from them as well because you could be such a dick...Everyone has their moments where they’re not on their best behavior, it’s called life), you were a mom, now. 

And being a mom, in your mind, meant tucking your kid in when it was time for bedtime. 

Only, it was easier said than done. 

Dick was a difficult child to put in bed. He’d always find ways to not sleep, and make you stay longer with him. Eventually, you made a “deal”. 

And that’s how the “night ritual” was born. 

You see, before this little ritual. This “deal” as you called it at first, before Dick found the name. It took you hours, to put him to bed. 

Bruce was often out in the city early (although he always made sure to be here for a good night kiss and a “love you, champ. See you tomorrow, sleep well”) and Alfred would monitor the computer, at those times. 

Later, when Dick grew up, you’d often be behind that monitor. But if a kid had to be put to bed ? You gladly took it upon yourself to do it. 

For you, especially in those early motherhood days, it was important to be there for your child. For him to feel like he wasn’t an afterthought, and that “the butler” (although everyone knew Alfred was more than that) wasn’t here to take him off of your hands. 

So bedtime, was your task. The task you gave yourself. 

And oh boy, with Dick ? It quickly turned into a hassle. 

“I’m thirsty...Wait, I’m afraid to stay alone in the room, piggyback ride to the kitchen ?” 

“I can’t sleep, it’s a full Moon.” 

“Hey, I didn’t clean up my room today ! We can’t leave all my toys laying around like that, can we ?” 

It was always “one last story” or “I have to pee” or “I forgot to brush my teeth !”. 

And at the time, you just didn’t have the heart to scold him and tell him it was enough, that it was time for bed. Oh well, who were you kidding. Even now, you didn’t scold your kids if they took their sweet time to get to bed. 

You just didn’t quite understood the point in getting  mad at them just because they didn’t go to bed right away. Dick eventually fell asleep, and not even that late. And if he was stalling for too long, he would only get mad at himself the next day because he’d be exhausted, and then that night he’d go to bed earlier. 

So no. You didn’t get mad. It sounded ridiculous, to yell at kids for this. However, you were a mom now. And you knew your kid couldn’t just do whatever he wanted, even if he was as sweet as Dick. 

Dick was nice almost all the time. He listened, did his chores, worked in school...So what if you gave him a little freedom sometimes ?

Yes. Sometimes. It was fine sometimes. 

But not all the time, like it had become. And not for bedtime. Seeing your son, in the morning, with big bags under his eyes, made you think of your husband, and oh you didn’t want this little 8 years old to be as tired as your Broosh could be. 

Of course, Dick was in bed WAY BEFORE Bruce came to bed. But for a small child like him, falling asleep at 10 or 11 pm was already too late. 

And so, one day you had enough. And you decided to make a deal with him. There had to be things required for him to go to bed (like a story, for example), but when you said : “it’s time for bed now”, he HAD to listen. The threat was that you’d just kiss him goodnight and leave. 

At first, Dick didn’t believe you. You couldn’t possibly have the heart to not tell him a story, and leave him alone so soon ! But you had to give him a lesson. 

And so, came the first unpleasant act you did as a parent. Because being nice and lenient was one thing, but you still were his mom. Not his friend. And there had to be certain rules, especially for such a young child. 

Rules, that he had to understand, or it was meaningless. Now, of course, you weren’t as harsh as your husband (you’d get mad at him enough, when he trained Dick and was a little too much). But still. You couldn’t let him decide of everything. You really REALLY didn’t want him to become a brat who thought he could just have anything whenever he wanted. 

Dick was a great kid, your worst fear at the time was that he’d turn into a phony who thought of himself as superior just because he was from a famous and rich family, and allowed to do whatever he wanted. 

And so, the “night ritual” began. On a common accord (because Dick was such a good kid, but also because that time you just kissed him, tucked him in and left really left a mark on him and he hated that so much !). 

You realized the reason he couldn’t get to sleep right away was because he was always wayyyy too excited, but also...because he didn’t want you to leave so soon. 

He dreaded the moment you’d leave, and he would be alone in his room. 

So you put in place a system, that would gradually make him sleepy. And...

It worked. 

First, you’d get dessert in bed. Usually fresh milk and a cookie. Something light, just to put him a little bit to sleep (Dick always got sleeping after he ate something, for some reasons). And you’d talk about your day, about how you felt. You’d lay it all out, so that your boy wouldn’t get to bed with any negative feelings. Talking, always helped. 

Then you’d read him a bedtime story. Better yet, you’d invent a bedtime story just for him (this is how your most famous book saga, “Richard and the Space pirates” came to be). If you felt benevolent that night, you’d even tell him two stories. 

One would usually do the trick, however.

Then you’d sing him a few lullabies, to lull him softly to sleep. 

And as he’d fall asleep, you’d whisper : 

“I love you so much.”

And he’d answer, outraged but too weak to really argue. A few last words before falling into a deep slumber : 

“I love you more !”

And bam. He’d be passed out. Your soft voice in his ears, as you told him a story, sang to him, and told him he was loved...It was what he needed. 

He was a rather young child too, who had a busy life. School, training, homework...So of course, with a little coaxing, he’d fall asleep fast. 

But he had to know you were there. Had to know he had those moments with you, and wouldn’t be alone before he fell asleep.

See, you understood that all his stalling before the “night ritual” was put in place, was because he was trying to tire himself out before you left. He was trying to keep you there as long as possible, just so he would fall asleep fast once you were gone. 

“I love you most.” 

You’d tell him, as he was already sleeping sweetly, clinging to his comforter as you slowly caressed his hair, laid a last kiss on his forehead, and left the room. Making sure before, that his little light was on, in case he woke up at night. 

Dick hated the dark. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you more !”

“I love you most.” 

Night ritual. 

Existing because your oldest kiddo, Dick, needed some “guidance” to fall asleep. But most importantly, because he needed to know you’d be there too, until he fell into his dreams. 

You’d indulge him. Meeting him half-way between “doing everything he wants you to do” and “being way too strict”. There were rules, to bedtime. 

A “night ritual”. 

But the rules were lax. Could be bend. And existed only so he would be able to sleep relatively early. 

For years and years, you’d do that little nightly ritual with him. It stopped when he was around 14, even if he still had a kiss goodnight and got tucked in. Things really stopped overall when he left for the Titans, shortly after turning 16, after that awful fight with his father. 

Oh and to be honest, something he’d never tell anyone...Even now, as a grown ass adult, he’d sometimes call you at night just so you could sing him a song, as your voice was still the thing that’d put him peacefully at sleep even to this day. But the real “night ritual” stopped. Your little boy grew up.

Which made you so sad...But then Jason came in. And soothed the pain. 

Jason

Jason ressembled Dick in that he really wanted you to stay for the longest possible. But, unlike Dick who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind and who could be a bit of a brat sometimes, Jason wouldn’t say anything. 

Dick definitely used his little charms and smiles to make you and Bruce crack, and give in...the little bugger even taught his younger siblings everything about how to manipulate you two into saying “yes”, to your greatest dismay...

Oh but, was one more scoop of ice cream really that bad ? After all, your children were nice most of the time, it was fine to be a little lenient sometimes, and though Bruce loved to think of himself as a strict parent, nobody was fooled, you were both pretty cool and lax...Which didn’t mean your children were misbehaving brats, although they had their moments, like everyone. 

Anyway, Dick used to make it clear he was demanding for you to stay longer with him when bedtime was coming. 

But Jason was a little shyer. He spend his entire life until then thinking he was bothering the people around him, that he was a burden, so he really didn’t want his new family to think that of him. 

But you could see it in his eyes. You could. When he wanted for you to tell one more story, or to sing him one more lullaby. And although you were constantly teased by your husband about how easy those kids played you (as if he was one to talk)...you couldn’t resist. 

You were always left rather sad and depressed, if you put one of your kids to bed and they looked visibly upset. So you’d stay longer. Anything for them to go to bed feeling good. 

About life. About themselves. About everything, really. 

A child shouldn’t have his sleep burdened by any worries.

Of course you knew you couldn’t be forever there for them, they’d eventually grow up and you wouldn’t really need to “tuck them in” anymore (at the time, you had  no idea that even well in their twenties, if they came to sleep at the Manor, even as they already moved out, they’d ask you for a good night kiss...The magic of being consistent in your love for them, really). 

You knew that eventually, they’d grow up too much and wouldn’t need you as much. That it’d be harder, too, to cheer your little ones up. Growing up unfortunately meant your worries grew with you too, and were harder and harder to forget. Or to be distracted from. 

You knew one day would come, in which little Jason would not be soothed anymore, by you telling him a bed time story. 

So maybe, you cracked a little too often, especially with him. 

You knew Dick had a good childhood, before you adopted him. But Jason ? He was bruised and abused, and thrown away like a dirty socks too often. Nobody ever wanted him, anywhere he went. 

Which was why, he didn’t dare to ask for a second story when you finished the first one. 

See, Dick would just jump up in his bed, do a backflip and dramatically say : “Pleaaaase fair lady, another story for the poor squire boy !”. Which would make you smile, and tell him one more. 

But Jason ? He didn’t say anything. And held all his feelings of sadness and disappointment inside. 

He wanted, more often than not, a second story so bad. But he didn’t want to bother you. He didn’t want you to realize he was actually a burden, and to throw him away, just like everyone else did. 

Jason always got to have a second story. Of course, any of your kids would if they asked. But Jason never dared to ask. So you’d just give it to him naturally. 

He always started to fall asleep half-way through the second story, which you’d keep on hold to then sing to him. 

Your songs would make him slowly drift to sleep, a genuine smile on his face. 

Oh. Jason. Always such a sweet boy, afraid to bother others, yet as contradictory as it sounded boisterous and full of life. 

Your little Jason. When Dick left for the Titans, you hadn’t realized how much you missed having a little one home. And then. 

Then there was Jason. 

When he died, you thought your “motherhood” died with him. Dick was over eighteen by then, and even if Jason’s death made him come back to the Manor, there was no “night ritual” anymore. You didn’t have the heart for it anyway...

You still had Dick, but losing your young son like that, knowing how he died, made you feel like you would never recover. You were in such a bad shape, that you couldn’t even help Bruce when he also fell into a dark well. When he turned back to being overly violent as Batman, practices he stopped when Dick left and opened his eyes. When Dick questioned him. 

You still had Dick, but it felt like part of what you were as a mother, died with Jason. How could you do a “night ritual” properly now, with the memories of your son’s sweet smile, him telling you this was his favorite part of his day ? With the memories of...

You moved from the East wing to the West wing, after Jason’s death. None of you could walk past his empty room anymore. 

Dick came back. And it was his turn, to help you fall asleep. More than one night, he spend trying to comfort you as you couldn’t stop the tears from running down. He never left you alone. 

Bruce couldn’t handle any of it, and he buried himself under his work as Batman. It would take him some time, before he realized that you had to be there for each others...

When Jason died, it felt like it was the end of everything nice about motherhood. Every night, you fell asleep with your head in your oldest son’s laps, seeing in his eyes the grief and pain of it all.

And you felt guilty. More depressed and sadder. You always hated seeing your children off to bed looking upset...

But it was hard to resist. Everything felt so far away. And Bruce wasn’t there. This was one of the darker moment, in your family life...

Dick felt helpless. He hadn’t been able to save his little brother. Now he couldn’t even help his parents. It felt like the entire family was breaking...

And then. Then Tim came in. 

Tim

Tim’s parents never tucked him in, too busy with their high society lives. 

So when he started to live with you and Bruce, after he lost both of them, he didn’t really expect you to...

“Do you want a bedtime story, maybe ?” 

You asked him on his first night being officially adopted. 

Oh but this was rather long after you started to see him as your own son. Tim already stayed over the Manor many times (without his parents ever even calling to know where he was). And he’d been Robin for a few months, before his parents passed away and he was officially adopted into the Wayne family (A/N : no need to tell me that canonically, Tim got adopted quite a long time after his parents died and he was “just” a ward like Dick was, for a while ;). No need either to tell me he was “older” than the age I give him there, which is around 10/11...Firstly because it varies according to canons, like sometimes he’s young, sometimes he’s fifteen, but also because this is a fanfic and my canon ages for the boys are taken from the canon I prefer XD which are not the ones in which he had a certain “Happy 15th birthday” pizza. Anyway what I mean is, that I’m not entirely accurate here for sure, but eh, it’s a FANfic, let’s allow ourself a little freedom...there’s no official canon on his age or how old he was when adopted anyway, it varies wildly from era to era hehe). 

Both you and Bruce kept your distance from him, at first. In more way than others, he painfully reminded you of the son you lost. And it felt wrong, to replace him so...

Replace him ? 

Slowly, both of you were reminded of that conversation you had with Dick, once. When he was little, and asking if his parents would be mad if he called you and Bruce “mom and dad”. 

That conversation, during which all of you talked about how you didn’t replace John and Mary, you just became another family for him. His new parents. 

Didn’t mean he would ever forget about the ones who were ripped away from him. Just that he...

He allowed himself to love again. 

And you did, too, when you finally accepted Tim in your life. 

That boy had a way, anyway, to crawl inside your heart and settle comfortable there...He was just such a bright one, in more than one way. Sure, he was extremely intelligent, but he also just...Shone. A new sun in your life. 

Not one that would replace any other Sun. Just. A new one. That you were allowed to love, too. 

“Do you want a bedtime story, maybe ?” 

Now, he was officially your son. And this was the first night he’d spend in the Manor being yours. Before, you never dared to tuck him in, by fear of getting too attached just for him to be ripped away from you...And he almost did. 

His father, almost took him away, before his ultimate demise... But that was another story. 

Tonight, was the first night as your son. And he was still so small, just ten little years. The age Jason was too, when the official adoption papers were signed...

You chased away the painful memories, as little Timmy looked at you, surprised. But you could see a hint of interest in his eyes. 

“A bedtime story ?” 

“Yes, if you want to of course. You don’t have to-”

“I’d love a bedtime story !” 

He was in such a hurry to tell you this, that it made you smile. And you could feel it in your bones. That boy never had anyone asking him if he wanted to be told a story, before sleep. 

It was obvious in his excitement, and it was obvious in his hopeful eyes. Eyes that were asking : “...Do I really mean something to you ? Enough that you’d spend time reading to me ?”. 

It broke your heart. Poor little one. Even though he had parents, and came from a rich family, he was never truly cared for. It was obvious in everything he did. 

Often, he’d try to do stuffs on his own, and would be surprised if you, Alfred or Bruce would ask if he needed help... 

Ah. Well tonight. Tonight called for one of your made up stories for sure. A mere random storybook wouldn’t do. No. You had to tailor one for him. Just for him. So he would finally know how special he is. 

“Ok, well then.”  

You settled next to him in his bed, as he sat up, the excitement pouring out of his very being. Alfred chose that time, to drop some milk and cookies, as he informed you he would be down in the Batcave to help Bruce. 

Impeccable timing. As usual. 

You thanked him, and started your story, as Tim looked at you with wide eyes, eating his cookie absentmindedly, quickly realizing you were telling a story about him ! : 

“Once upon a time, there was a little boy. His name was Timothy, and he didn’t know it yet but one day...He’d save the entire Kingdom of Waynalia. How, you might ask ? Well it was simple. You see, young Timothy had a talent to cure people’s heart. And the King and Queen of Waynalia, who were known to be cruel and vile, only were so because they’ve had broken hearts for far too long...” 

Tim fell asleep at the end of the story. And just like his brothers, quickly took to this “night ritual”. After all, he was still just a child. And this entire “milk/cookie/ story/lullabies/kiss goodnight” was great. 

Cassandra

Cassandra was fifteen, when she started to live with you at Wayne Manor. Too old, you thought, for the “night ritual”

Dick himself stopped demanding it around aged fourteen (after a certain Wally West mocked him when he heard of it), and even that was rather old when you thought of it. One of the main reason he slowly detached himself from it (apart from being mocked), was being Robin full time now, and going most nights out, so he didn’t really have the energy anymore for the ritual. It wasn’t needed. Which sort of broke your heart. 

Jason died before he ever got the “chance” to ask you to stop....

But this was not something you wanted to think about. Oh no. 

In any case, Cass was fifteen, and you thought, too old to want some bedtime stories by her mom, or any sort of snuggles. 

That was until...

A nightmare. 

You heard her, it felt even in your sleep. Something woke you, and then she started to scream. Bruce wasn’t home yet, and it was her night off (you forced all of them to have one, at least once a week). 

That night, you had marathoned your favorite TV show with her, and went to bed your separate ways. You did kiss her goodnight, and told her you loved her (you always told them at least once a day, because you learned that in your line of work...you never knew what could happen...Jason’s smiling cheeky face came to your mind, did you tell him often enough that he-no. Not tonight.). 

And then, late, it was pitch black out, you heard her scream. 

Your mother instinct made you run to her. Quickly, you understood she had yet another bad dream about her father coming to get her, and forcing her to be a weapon again. It happened so often... 

You shook her up, and she almost knocked you down as she was slowly regaining consciousness and wondering what the hell was happening and where she was. You know, those few seconds before you’re fully awake, when you’re not even sure you’re even someone anymore ? The time you need to remember oh right, I’m human, and I was in my bed. This is my bedroom. Right. 

To sooth her, you started to slowly sing to her. To hold her while you rocked gently back and forth, and sung. 

She didn’t talk, as you dried her tears. As you reminded that this was all fine, she was home, and David Cain would never hurt her again. 

Cass calmed down, and fell back asleep. You held her most of the night, waiting for Bruce to come back. You just didn’t feel like going back alone in your bed, after such screams

The next night off she had, when it was time to part at the top of the stairs after yet another TV show marathon, when you’d go to your room and her to hers...

She stopped. And held onto your sleeve. 

“Cass, honey, what is it ?”  

There was a few seconds of silence, before she said : 

“Do it again ?” 

And you understood instantly. 

See, the other nights, the ones she didn’t have off, Cass would come home exhausted after a night of vigilanting. But when she had her night off, when she wasn’t “working”...Sleep was hard to come. 

You knew all too well what she felt. Your Broosh was the same, and already poured his feelings to you about it more than once. 

Now, Cassandra wasn’t much of a talker (your husband either, really, but then it was different with you)but you could see it in her eyes. 

“Sing ?” 

She nodded. And so you went to tuck her in. 

You thought she was “too old”. You thought she wouldn’t like it. You thought, as she was slowly discovering her own independence after being treated as a weapon and not choosing anything in her life, that she’d want to be alone in moments like this. 

And oh. Oh you thought wrong. 

That night, you sang to her until she fell asleep. And slowly but surely, the “night ritual” put himself into place. 

Over the years, it didn’t change much. Because it was such a successful formula. Milk and cookies was talking about their day, getting their feelings out. A story by you. A soothing lullabies. Snuggles and kisses. 

Winning formula. 

Why change it ? Your children were all wildly different, but the one thing that linked them all, was how much they loved you and your antics. 

Each of them had “mom time”, where they’d spend the day just with you (just like your Broosh and you had date nights and such). You always took time to spend individual time with all of them, and during those times the activities would be very different from one kid to another. 

But those “night rituals” ? They didn’t need to change. Because they were perfect the way they were. Exactly what they all needed. Pure love, in many ways. And the knowledge they’d never be alone again. 

Love and loneliness. 

Two things your youngest son, Damian, struggled with for years. 

Damian

“I love you, little one.” 

The first time, Damian didn’t respond. He just nodded, and turned around in his bed, back facing you. 

He couldn’t face you, or you’d see the “stupid” smile plastering his face at the mere thought he was loved, and had a real mom...But that, you didn’t know.

You didn’t really take it personally, you happened to know another “emotionally stunted” Wayne, so you were used to it. It took a while, for Bruce to finally admit his feelings for you. Even if they were obvious, and written all over his face (which is why Damian used the “back facing you” trick). 

You knew it’d take time. So for now, you’d settle with a simple kiss, and reminding him he was cherished. 

And then one day... 

“Why do you not read me bed time stories ? Or make one up, with me as the hero ?” 

“Beg you pardon ?” 

You were diligently tucking him in, as he never told you off when you did it, when he asked this, taking you by surprise. What he said didn’t quite register, until he added : 

“Grayson says that when he was little, you’d tell him a story. Made him the hero of it. And then you’d sing. He said there were cookies, too. Why do you not do that with me ?” 

Oh. Oh. Oooooooooh. 

You got it now. But you’re no less surprised. 

“I thought...You had no interest in those ?” 

Damian nodded slowly, and said : 

“I know why you would think this...Mom.”

Mom. That...He hadn’t call you that very often, so far...

“But when you come to tuck me in, I never have nightmares. I sleep soundly, and I dream of-Soft things. Like unicorns and cats.” 

This makes you smile. Oh. Oh if only people could see the Damian right in front of you, and not the Damian he liked to pretend he was. 

Sweet, sweet boy. 

“I know why you think I don’t want a story, and snuggles, and all the thing Grayson gushed about for hours. But I...Do. I like when you come to tell me goodnight, and I wouldn’t mind if it lasted longer ?” 

He was so unsure. Very unlike his cocky usual self. 

This, was the real Damian. 

The one who really wants to connect with others, who wants to be good, but he’s just not really sure on how to proceed. So he pretends he doesn’t care. 

But he does. He cares a lot. 

He’s very much like your Broosh, in that regard. Like father like son, eh ? Both of them love to hide emotions from their faces, and pretend everything is ok, even when they’re breaking inside. 

Silly boys. 

You managed to reach Bruce. You were sure you could reach your son...

And it had already started. You could see it. You smile, and leave his room to get cookies and milk. 

And oh damn it, you should’ve told him you were doing that ! Because when you came back, he was laying in his bed and looked absolutely crestfallen ! There was even small tears in his eyes, oh no ! 

You quickly understood that he thought you were refusing to do the famous “night ritual” with him. That you just went to bed too, and weren’t going to tell him a story. 

His face brightens, truly brightens, reminding you of when the sun just comes out from behind high mountains. He sees the cookies and milk, and oh. Oh he looks so excited. 

You dried his tears with the back of your hand, and smiled fondly at him. 

It makes everything worth it. All your effort to connect with him, worth the work and heartache it brought. 

You knew. You knew you’d eventually make it. And it’s that evening, when he asked for “the night ritual”, that you truly realized it. 

First, cookies and milk, and a little talk about his day. His feelings, too. 

Then the story, one you made up with him as the hero. He seemed to love that, especially to be a good hero, and not a villain. Cute, and heartbreaking at the same time. 

Then come the lullabies. 

And finally, the soft drift to sleep, and a last feel of warmth as you kiss his forehead and leave him to a deep slumber. 

Damian has never felt so peaceful in his life before. 

Duke

You didn’t really dare, at first, going to tell him good night. 

Unlike your other children, Duke arrived in the family being a sixteen years old boy. Way pass needing someone to tuck him in. And you didn’t want to overstep your bound, you already knew how difficult things were for him. How hard it was to adapt to it all. 

It was quite the same than with Cass. But even more complicated. 

Cass’ childhood was inexistent, really. Destroyed before she could enjoy it. So sometimes, when with you or Bruce, she’d let go, and act like a child, even though she was older. It was fine. She never had a childhood, she could make up for it now. And so what if she liked hot cocoas and cuddles ? Nobody would hold it against her. 

In fact, most adults would probably LOVE to be taken care of by their mom again.

But Duke, was different. He had a happy childhood, parents who were loving and caring...His mom most likely told him stories, and sung him lullabies. 

And he was sixteen. And in the middle of an identity crisis, as his powers just barely manifested. 

So you didn’t go to tuck him in. Even if you really wanted to. 

You wanted to give Cass freedom, let her explore herself, as she always lived following someone else’s orders and view of life. 

But Duke ? Duke was an entirely different case from Cass. And you could see him, at times, feeling lost and sad. 

You always hated having your kids go to bed upset. But what could you do ? 

He was certainly not gonna let you...Or, was he ? 

After all, you never asked. 

“Do you...Want a bedtime story ?” 

He stares at you, visibly confused and thinking you’re a little crazy. And you realize yes, this question is ridiculous. The boy was sixteen ! 

“Nevermind, sorry that was stupid. I was just thinking...Well I don’t know what I was thinking. Sorry. Night buddy.” 

“Wait !” 

Uh ? There was a sort of little panic, in his voice. As if he was afraid you were leaving so soon. You turned around, and waited for him to speak again. 

“Maybe not a...bedtime story but...Maybe, maybe we could talk ? For a little bit ? My...My mom and I used to talk every night, it helped me sleep.” 

You felt a lot of things at the same time. 

Touched he wanted to do with you what he used to do with his mom. 

Reassured to realize your guts were right, and that his mom did tuck him in sweetly every night. 

And sad that it took him so long to ask you for this. 

“Of course Duke, of course.” 

Duke, was older than any of your other children, when he came into your life. But it didn’t mean...

It didn’t mean he didn’t need you. Or your motherly side. 

He never quite had the full “night ritual” experience, as some aspect of it were definitely too childish. But he had the cookies and milk. And the talk. And the feel that you would always be there for him. 

Always. 

************

The end ? 

No. 

Bruce 

Bruce tossed and tossed in his bed, sleep evading him. 

There used to be a time, every nights were like that. Unable to fall asleep, and when he did, his slumber was plagued with the most terrible nightmares. 

Maybe that’s why, more than anything else, he decided to use his nights to be a vigilante ? Of course, the cover of nights helped in many ways, doing his Batman work in broad daylight would be more difficult (even if he did do some work during the day). Especially in regards of his “Brucie Wayne” persona, his cover up, pretending he definitely can’t be Batman. 

Ever since his parents died, Bruce had trouble falling asleep. That’s probably why it was so easy for him to train himself to sleep barely a few hours a night, and stay in shape even as he often ran on very little resting time. 

He lived like that for so many years...

And then. Then you appeared in his life. 

And every nights in your arms were peaceful, he was taken by a deep sleep that could happen only with you. He slept so soundly, when you were there, that often when you had to wake up before him, you had to call Alfred so he’d help you untangle yourself from his grasp (I wrote a story about that haha : How to remove a Wayne safely).

You forced him to take at least one night off, and he was so sure he wouldn’t be able to rest on those nights...yet he always fell asleep like a baby, around 11 pm max, often falling asleep in front of whatever movie you were watching, just the two of you. 

You had that power. To allow him to sleep well, and not have such awful nightmares.

So when you weren’t with him, he couldn’t find sleep. 

He would toss, again and again, and whenever he’d almost fall asleep, his hand would unconsciously look for you in bed and the fact you were absent would make him be wide awake again. 

Yes. He just couldn’t sleep, when you weren’t there. 

Which is why...Which is why he was a little grumpy, when you would take a long time telling your children good night. It was a sort of jealousy he wasn’t very proud of. 

Fighting other men to get your attention ? Any day. Fighting his own children...Felt a little shameful. Not like he could control this feelings, there was time, he was a little selfish. And you two had such few times to yourself, with the life you lead, that any opportunity was taken gladly.

He’d always try to be there for the story time, and for a kiss and some “Love you, kiddo” before leaving either for the cave, or to take an early night in.

Early night ins. Rare occasion. 

Like tonight. His one night off this week. 

He trusted his cousin, Batwoman, to take care of the city, and his oldest sons, Dick and Jason, who were now old enough to go out there on their own, too...Well, he did still hid trackers in them, and made sure to ask Kate to keep an eye on them, but they were adults. 

Capable of taking care of themselves, and go out there to keep Gotham safe, and take care of their younger siblings.

They were still absolutely forbidden to go out there alone. And no one wanted to argue much with your husband about safety, he had already made punchlines for those occurrences and it was impossible to win against him. 

Cass, Tim, Damian and Duke weren’t allowed yet to fly solo like their older brothers. They were only allowed to go out there while Bruce wasn’t IF they were with Kate, Dick, or Jason. 

Bruce particularly liked when they were with Jason because although many would think he was the most reckless one, because of his “bad boy” reputation but...When it came to his siblings’ safety, he did NOT joke around. 

Dick encouraged them to become their own person, and to take initiative (he trusted them to know what they could and could not do, and he was right). But Jason ? Jason took after you, and your “mama hen” personality, for sure. 

Actually, Bruce often sneakily stuck one of his younger kid with Jason, so his reckless son would be more careful. Neither you nor your husband wanted to ever lose him again...So what if you had to resort to dirty tactics and ask him to look after a younger siblings for him to be less incautious ?

In any case, it had been a long time deal by then, that Bruce HAD to take at least one night off. All of them had; They each had one night a week. Conveniently, there were seven of them. 

On those nights, you and Bruce would be together every single second of it, relishing in a little alone time, and in spending an entire night together for once, and not just a few hours there and there. 

But tonight, Damian was sick, and couldn’t go out either. Which was why you weren’t in bed with Bruce, right now. You were tucking your sick son in, and it already took quite a while on normal days but as he was feeling under the weather ??

Bruce knew you. He knew you would stay with him until he fell asleep. And he knew his son, too. He knew he would try to stay awake as long as possible just to be with you. 

Which meant...Your husband being alone, right now, and unable to sleep. Ugh. He should’ve just gone out as Batman tonight, and take a break another day. ...As if you or Alfred would’ve let him. You knew that “taking a break another day”, with him, meant never. 

Bruce tossed a few more times, and resolved that he couldn’t sleep up until you’d come. So he sat up, and thought he might as well take a walk around the Manor. It always calmed him down, as a child... 

That’s when you decided to come in.

“Going somewhere ?” 

You ask him, suspicious. He knows you think he was about to leave for the Batcave. And he doesn’t correct you. It’s better you think that, you already knew way too much how to push all his buttons down, he’d rather you not know that he was in fact about to just walk around the Manor and not go to the bat cave because he promise you to take the night off... 

Oh. Oh if Superman could hear his thoughts right now. He would surely not recognize his “workaholic” friend...And definitely not recognize his will to not piss off his wife, and listen to her. The Batman didn’t care, if he pissed people off ! Well. Except for his wife, who could be very scary, when angry. 

Damn it. 

Your face. 

Your face shows much concern, behind that slight bit of anger at the thought he was about to sneak to the Batcave, that he can’t hold it back for too long. 

To hell, if you were the only one who knew him perfectly, and had him wrapped around your little finger. You gave it back to him plenty. So, just as soon as he was telling himself he wouldn’t tell you the truth...He told you the truth : 

“No. I was-...I was just about to take a walk around the Manor.” 

You look at him, a question in your eyes. And you don’t have to ask him, as he answers : 

“I can’t sleep when you’re not there. Needed to clear my mind.” 

It makes you smile, of course. And it’s the truth, oh it’s the truth. 

He really can’t fall asleep, when you’re not near. 

You climb on the bed, and slowly move to him. 

“How’s Damian ?” 

“Asleep. His fever went down, finally. Thanks the gods.” 

“Was he trying to fight sleep, and argue to have another story ?”

“Oh you know he did.” 

“Haha, I don’t blame him. Anything, to keep you closer for longer.” 

“What a sappy man you turned out to be, my heart. Who would’ve thunk, right ?” 

“Don’t tell Clark.” 

This makes you laugh, and you move even closer to him, settling in his laps, facing him. His hands find themselves around your waist naturally, and as you lay your own hands on his cheeks, looking at him fondly and longingly, you say : 

“I love you, my Broosh.” 

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.” 

“I love you so much I think I’d die if you were gone.” 

“I love you so much I put up with your bullshit.”

“Hahaha. Cheeky. I love you so much I eat your awful gluten free cake without batting an eye.” 

“You ass ! Well, I love you so much I don’t even mention it when you call this disgusting mixture you make in the morning “coffee” “

“Oh wow, ouch. I love you so much I don’t even care about you criticize me.”

You chuckle a little, and kiss his nose, before adding :  

“I love you so much, that I wouldn’t change anything in my life. Not even the heartaches...Because everything lead me to you. And a life without you, is no life at all.” 

Admittedly, you cheated a bit, using his “I love you so much without you I’d die” against him, twisting things a little to pack a little more punch. And...

There’s a short pause, he looks at you, and then he leans over, slowly and softly pecking your lips. You think this means you won tonight, and you will be back in his arms in no time, allowing him to sleep properly...But you’re wrong. 

He says, after burying his face in the crook of your neck, in barely a whisper, his breath tickling you softly : 

“I love you so much, I would quit being Batman if you asked me to.” 

“Wait, what ?” 

You never asked him to. You never did, and never will. Because you were on of the only person on this Earth that truly understood him, and that loved him unconditionally. 

You knew and understood why he dressed like a bat each (or almost each) nights, to go fight crimes in Gotham City. 

You knew and understood all of his motives. 

And for this reason, you’d never ask him to stop doing so. But him admitting he would stop if you did ask, it made you feel...So much. 

It touched you beyond all measure. You didn’t even know how to respond to it. 

“Ah, I win, didn’t I ?” 

You had no words to answer. You knew how much you loved him, how much he meant to you, and how impossible it was to even envision a life without him. But he always  managed to surprise YOU with how deeply in love he was with you. How much he’d give up, just for you. How you knew, he would burn the entire world, if it meant saving you...

He would for his children, too. There was no doubt in his mind that if he had been to that warehouse sooner, and killing the Joker meant saving Jason...he would’ve done it. There was no point doing in afterward, once his son was already gone...But there, in the moment, to save him ?

He would. He would kill everyone, just to save his family. 

This was a side not a lot of people knew. They all assumed he wouldn’t do it, that he would let you or his children die for the greater good. That’s why considering, you guys weren’t kidnapped that much. 

Every villain, everyone, always thought that the Batman would not budge from his principles even if it meant saving those he loved. 

And they were wrong. They were so wrong. 

It was good, though, that only you knew that. 

“Ah. I win, didn’t I ?” 

You don’t have the words to answer him, your heart overflowing with so much. Overwhelming. So you go to the next best thing. 

Actions. 

You kiss him. With all the passion and love you can gather in your being. 

You kiss him, and he kisses you back. 

That. 

That was his night ritual. 

The only way he could fall asleep peacefully, like he used to when his mom and dad tucked him in. Before their death. 

Finding purchase once more, in your arms, after years of night plagued with nightmares and pain. 

Being near you. With you. In every way possible. Touching you, feeling you near. Right there. By him. 

The big bad bat’s “night ritual”, it was you. 

It was, and would always be you. 

The end (for good, this time, haha). 

_________________________________________________

As you might’ve noticed, I’m in a very soft mood lately haha. I guess I’m just happy about my current situation, so I wanna write all the fluff and make the Batfam happy...Not for long though. I have some mighty angst in store for you, just you wait ;). In any case, here’s to a small bonus story. Hope you liked it even if it’s not what I said I’d post ^^'. I assure you what I planned is coming, I’m just being damn slow. As usual any comments and reblogs are more than welcomed <3. 

PS : Last time I posted a bonus story, an anon wasn’t happy I wasn’t posting longer stories I said I would post soon haha...So just a quick thing : those stories I’ve been posting lately literally take between 20 minutes to an hour to write. It’s extra fast, and I don’t re-read myself. So I can post them rather rapidly. But those I have in store that are long as hell and full on one-shots I thought a lot about, not just random drabbles, need a lot more work. Which is why they take longer. Which I’d think is obvious to everyone (most of y’all are super understanding and nice <3), but I guess not huh...Please. Be patient with me. I’m super busy lately. But everything I said I’d post WILL be posted. I can promise this much.