#is that these people managed to hide the fact that earth used to be in the high fantasy genre; its now urban fantasy

[berryblu-arts]

Pt 2!!!

Some glow stage doodles, mainly Nat/firefly + Ara with a lil cat ^^, I was honestly having kind of a bad art day on these hahah, but eh, might as well post em :3

Some Iris sibs ^^, they're actually Akemi's neice and nephew, that family is a disaster lmaoo

[sttm99]

CW...? Recreational drug use, swearing

Unedited. I just wanted to get this out of my drafts

"Shit!"

Sero swore loudly as he gripped his phone, eyes narrowed and glaring into the screen, before he haphazardly threw it on to the bed next to his, Bakugo's, and the edge hit the blonde on his shin.

"Fuck is wrong with you, Duct Tape?!" Bakugo yells out in anger, immediately reaching down to rub St his shin, his other hand gripping his pillow in preparation to chuck it at Sero's head.

"Dude says supply's delayed. The stuff's coming tomorrow instead." Sero groans, falling backwards unto his own pillow, unconsciously but successfully evading the pillow Bakugo threw at his head.

"Seriously?" Kaminari groans loudly.

"Fuck," Bakugo grumbles. "I'm fucking stressed, I need some shit today."

Kirishima hums in affirmation and the boys all grumble in their shared bedroom.

UA had organised a week-long trip in a nice beach house near the edge of the city, for their year, a sort of getaway to welcome in the new session. At least that was what they were told. Classes A and I were paired together for the same week, seeing as the house wasn't big enough for all the classes to use at the same time.

And due to the fact that they'd been paired with a Management Course class, the Hero students had believed the trip to be solely for relaxation, and extracurricular.

And boy, were they wrong.

They'd been training non-stop.

Even the Management course students had to partake in some exercises alongside their daily assignments. It was only day 4 and everyone was nearing their breaking point.

Which was why Sero had convinced Bakugo, Kirishima and Kaminari to pool some money together and buy some weed to take the edge of their stress.

For some reason, Sero knew a supplier and ordered a batch of 35 grams, something to get them through the rest of the week, and the boys were admittedly excited for it to come, even Bakugo, despite his haughty words of not wanting shit inside his body.

Unfortunately, the supply got delayed to the next day.

"You guys though, I know where we can get some stuff." They all turned to look at Kaminari.

And that was how they began their journey to sneak up to one of the rooms the Management course girls were occupying, specifically the one belonging to one of Kaminari's 'friends'.

"I swear, if we get caught searching for weed, I'm fucking skinning you alive, dipshit." Bakugo grumbled, hands stuffed tightly in the pocket of his sweatpants as he padded softly across the hall of the second floor, right above his own.

It was late, way too late for this. The teachers were sleeping, their classmates were sleeping, everyone was sleeping due to the stress of the week. Heck, they should have been sleeping. But no! They'd all agreed to Sero's stupid idea of drinking lots of coffee right before training so they could still be awake afterwards in order to smoke.

Bakugo huffed in frustration. Why on earth did he ever think Sero had good ideas?

"Shhh," Kaminari whispered as he paused by a door, "You don't wanna wake up the wrong people." He had his ears pressed to the wood, trying to hear movement, determining if anyone was awake.

"You hear anything?" Sero whispered, leaning atop Kaminari's body.

"Yeah," he replied before softly knocking on the door.

There was silent for a moment, before hurried hushes and loud whispers could be heard from behind the door. Kaminari grinned slyly, Sero pumped his fists in the air, Bakugo rolled his eyes, inching forward as well.

A loud thud was heard, a shake against the door, then it was hastily pulled open, revealing a tall, blonde girl, in just tiny sleep shorts and a lacy bralette that did nothing to hide her breasts.

Kirishima quickly averted his eyes at that.

The girl didn't notice, the obvious tells of a high showing on her; loopy smile and blown out pupils. She swayed against the door, "Guys..." she said, her speech drawn out, "It's boys~"

But before she could continue, she was hastily shoved to the side, a yelp coming from her lips as her body fell to the left and another arm shot out to reduce how open the door was, shielding her and what Bakugo suspected to be other, barely dressed girls.

"What do you want? It's late?" Another girl popped into the frame, you.

Dressed in a small, tight fitting shirt and large, knee length shorts, you held the door close, your body blocking the boys from being able to see inside your room.

"(Y/n)," Kaminari greeted with a grin.

You quirked up a brow, eyes scanning over the boys he'd come with. Bakugo wanted to believe your gaze had lingered longer on him, because he couldn't tear his away from you.

Your eyes were dazed as well, pupils large, and your balance was off, but you were more clear headed that the blonde girl before you, and you had your eyes narrowed at them.

"Fuck do you want, Kami?" Bakugo could tell you were trying hard not to let your speech draw, but your voice was soothing, nice. "It's late."

But he was growing impatient, and just slightly frustrated with how his friends eyed you. Not like he even had any right to be possessive.

"You got any good stuff?" Kaminari whispered lowly, eyes as wide as his grin.

You furrowed your brows, trying to feign ignorance, even though they could smell the weed under the harsh scent of perfume you'd drowned yourself in to cover your tracks.

"You know..." Sero whined. "Good stuff."

Bakugo had had enough of their beating around the bush, shoving past the two boys and placing his hands on the frame and the wooden expanse of your door. You gasped as he leaned forward, getting his face close to yours, breathing in your labored breath, and giving you a sly grin at the scent of weed pouring from your lips.

"Weed. I smell it on you. Pass us some, will ya?" He said slowly, his voice low and so close to you.

You couldn't help the purse of your lips or how your gaze just momentarily drifted to his mouth.

"You wanna buy it? It's not free." You retorted.

"We got some coming tomorrow. We'll pay back."

You narrowed your eyes, considering it. You wanted to say 'no', he could be lying. But when he spoke to you in that stupidly sexy, raspy voice, with your head light from your blunt, you couldn't help but want to do what he said.

"I got pre-rolled blunts. How many you need?" You breathed out.

"Four." He muttered.

"Five," Kirishima interjected. "Shinsou's coming too." He said when Bakugo turned back to raise his brow at him.

You took the opportunity to admire his side profile.

"You pay back 10 grams, that's 5 skinny blunts." You spoke up.

"Deal," Bakugo whipped his head back to you, licking at his lower lip.

"You pay back tomorrow."

"Wait, noo~" a voice calls out from behind the door, and a mop of black hair enters the frame, arms wrapping around your shoulders, and you turn your attention to your friend. "We're gonna be at Kento's tomorrow." She said.

You pushed her off you, distaste curling your lips. "I'll be here. You can give it to me tomorrow."

Bakugo nodded once, his eyes wandering down your legs. "That's fine. The blunts then?" He asked.

You gave him a look once more before pushing the door open a bit more and turning round to walk into the room. He could see your legs wobble as you walked, could see your ass jiggle as you moved. He bit at his lower lip.

You almost tripped as you knelt between two beds, bending your torso to the ground and reaching underneath the bed on your left, your ass lifted in Bakugo's direction, in perfect view.

He felt himself begin to harden at the sight of it. You had to be doing it on purpose, tempting him.

All too soon, you were getting back up, a small box in your hand, and you picked out five pre rolled blunts, then you were pushing the box back underneath the bed and standing up, walking back over to the door and handing Bakugo the blunts.

"Don't forget tomorrow, you hear me?" You narrowed your eyes, knowing full well you probably didn't look the slightest bit intimidating.

Bakugo smirked down at you, leaning closer just a bit, drowning you in his height, his presence, the heat radiating off his body. "'Course I won't." He turned back momentarily to hand Sero and Kirishima the blunts.

"You can leave now," You said, smirking slightly, eyes dazed and lower lip caught between your teeth.

"See you tomorrow then?" Bakugo's voice was low, teasing.

"Of course." You responded softly, shutting the door as he pushed his weight off it and began walking away.

Kaminari quickly caught up to him, his arm coming to rest over Bakugo's shoulders, his body bumping into his. "Yo, the fuck was that?" He asked, voice low as he stared at Bakugo.

Bakugo grunted in response. "What? Fuck are you talking about?"

Sero scoffed as he matched their steps. "You were all over her. I could see your dick twitching."

"Why you looking, duct tape?"

But Sero only laughed at him.

"If you're interested go for it," the boy shrugged. "She's hot."

"Shut the fuck up." Bakugo spat, "You're gonna wake everyone."

"He's just mad he didn't get to hit." Kaminari snickered over to Sero.

Bakugo watched you in passing the next day. You were even prettier in the daylight, with your hair done, and dressed in casual clothes, smile wide as you conversed with you classmates.

Sero had managed to get the weed, 35 grams early in the morning, and Bakugo had fought the boys on who would be the one to give it to you. Now, as he trained with his classmates, perfecting their quirks and working on their physiques, he couldn't help catching sight of you all the time.

While your class had to do a 5k run as a mandatory physical exercise, before heading in to have a 2 hour class, consisting mainly of assessments and scenarios, Bakugo watched you as best as he could without getting caught.

"You're distracted." Sero snickered as he walked past Bakugo, shoving his elbow into Bakugo's side. "Looking at-"

"One more word and I'll incinerate you." Bakugo snarled, pushing Sero over the back of the couch.

"Bakugo?"

He turned his head around at the feminine voice, looking down at Uraraka gazing up at him. "What is it?"

"He's right though, you have been looking distracted."

He huffed. "I'm fine."

Sero stood up, rubbing at his head, and gave them a look, then walked away.

"You know if there's anything on your mind," she began, voice soft, palm moving up on his arm. "You can tell me."

Bakugo glanced up, just in time to see you walking into the kitchen with two others from your class by your side; the busty blonde from the night before and a boy he vaguely recognised. You walked to the counter, reaching up and grabbing a box of cereal from the overhead cupboards. When you got it and dropped it back on the counter, your eyes met his, then you looked at Uraraka's palm on his arm.

"I'm fine, really." He looked down at the brunette. "I'm going to my room." He shrugged her arm off him and stood up, making his way to the stairs.

"This should be 10 grams, right?" Bakugo mumbled, as he looked at the weed, laying atop some useless piece of paper he planned to use as wrapping.

Kirishima looked over his shoulder, rulers and pencils scattered on the desk beside the weed; Bakugo's attempt at 'measuring'. The redhead shrugged. "I think so. Looks like 10 grams to me."

Bakugo huffed and quickly began wrapping the paper over the weed. "Not like she'll weigh it or anything. This is about 10 grams." He mumbled as he took out a zip lock bag from a pile at the corner of his desk, opened it up and stuffed the paper-wrapped weed inside.

He stood from his desk.

"We're smoking some today, so don't waste too much time, yeah?" Kirishima said to him as Bakugi began approaching the door. "Or we'll do it without you."

"Just go ahead without me." Bakugo said.

Sero chuckled to himself. "You wanna fuck her or drop off weed?"

The blonde boy glared. "You wanna fuck her?" He retorted. "You've had a lot to say about my thoughts on her since yesterday."

Sero only raised his hands in mock surrender, leaning back on the headboard of his desk. "Just saying, bro. And what if I do?" He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "She is hot."

"Whatever. I don't fucking care," Bakugo scoffed rather harshly as he pulled open the door, slowly. It was late, everyone was meant to be sleeping, though the two teachers that chaperoned the outing didn't seem to care all that much if students heeded to the bedtime.

He crept slowly up the stairs at the end of the hallway, eyes looking round the walls, feet soft and silent, the bag of weed tightly in the pocket of his hoodie. Though Aizawa and the management course teacher didn't seem all that strict, or interested in what the students got into during their free time, he didn't want to take risks.

He made it to your door easy enough, knocked softly, once, then two more times after that. His stomach tightened as the door was pulled open, the loosened, relief coursing through him at the sight of you again.

You were dressed in a pale tank top this time, and silk sleeping shorts, much shorter than the one you'd worn the night before. Bakugo thought your thighs looked amazing.

"You got the weed?" You asked him. Your voice was steadier, a bit deeper, and your eyes didn't waver the way they'd done before.

He nodded slowly, inching it out of the pocket of his hoodie. You caught sight of it and pulled your door open just a bit wider, inviting him in.

Bakugo walked into the room you were occupying, not much different from his, his eyes scanning it as you shut the door and opened your palm to him, beckoning for the weed.

"Where are your roommates?" He asked as he handed it to you.

"Snuck out. One of our classmates has a villa nearby. He's hosting a party." You mumbled, setting the bag of weed on the dresser near the door and pulling open one of the drawers.

"You didn't go with them?" He was happy you didn't, happy that your friends had left and you'd remained, here, alone with him.

"I wasn't interested. Not in good terms with the host."

Some silence for a while.

"The fuck? You're weighing it?" Bakugo's eyes widened in shock as he quickly made his way over to your side, watching as you brought out a little scale from one of the drawers, dropping the zip lock bag unto it. "Why do you even have a scale?"

"Of course I'll measure it," you smirked, hands on your hips as you watched the scale. "And I have one cause I can."

You and Bakugo leaned closer to take a good look at the calibrations at the base of the scale. You squinted slightly, lips turned downwards as you counted the thin lines, matched them with the numbers above them.

"That's like 11.5." Bakugo frowned as he looked at it. "You gotta gimme one and a half grams." He stood back up and smirked at you.

You chuckled softly, opening up the zip lock and pulling out the wrap of weed. "Lemme roll it and we'll smoke some here, huh?" You offered.

"That's extra that came out of my stash." He argued, knowing full well he wanted to share a blunt with you.

You grinned, opening up your drawer again and pulling out some rolling paper. "That you're gonna smoke. With me."

"He sounds funny."

"He's a fucking dipshit."

You laughed, passing taking the blunt from Bakugo's fingers and bringing it to your lips. He watched you, having just finished narrating to you one of Sero's stupid, stupid ideas. Bakugo watched as you brought the blunt to your mouth, wrapping your lips around it, where his own lips just were, and then inhaling.

You'd convinced him to smoke the blunt with you, pulling him to sit on your bed, the one nearest to the wall, and expertly rolling a blunt with your pretty, dainty fingers.

He'd watched them, noticed your nails, pretty, well manicured.

Now he looked up at you with his lips slightly parted, pupils blown wide and head feeling light, as you blew smoke from your lungs. You were sat up, leaning back on your hand behind you, palm on the bed, legs crisscrossed on your sheets.

He sat at the edge of your bed, legs planted on the ground as his hands ran through his blonde hair.

You giggled softly, holding the blunt to him now. "Here." Your voice came out breathy and soft.

He kept his eyes on your own as he leaned into the blunt, wrapping his lips around the edge, where your own just was, and inhaling.

"This is an indirect kiss, you know." You whispered.

He kept looking at you as he pulled away, keeping still for a moment, holding in the smoke.

"Blow it out, will ya?" You said to him, but you were leaning into his face now, weren't you?

He leaned closer, hand reaching up to cup your jaw, his lips meeting yours halfway, eyes closing. You opened your mouth against his as he blew the smoke into it.

Then you were both pulling away and you were blowing out the smoke.

"I liked that." You said softly with a smile, head tilted cutely to the side, and you were biting your lower lip.

"The weed or the kiss?" He chuckled softly, his voice so raspy and deep.

"Both."

And then he was kissing you again, eyes fluttering shut as you grabbed your waist, pulling you so you sat sideways on his lap. His tongue licked at your lips, pushing into your mouth as his hands slipped under your tank and caressed the bare skin of your stomach.

You moaned softly into his mouth as your hands came up to brush through his hair.

"Bakugo," You muttered, pulling way and moving positions.

You were straddling his lap now, your dainty, well manicured fingers gripping on to the hem of his hoodie. "This the weed, right?"

He chuckled, his palms sliding along your hips, tips of his long fingers grazing your ass. "I wanted to fuck you when I saw you yesterday, and I wasn't high then."

You licked at your bottom lip, arms wrapping around his neck. "Really? You wanna fuck?" You whispered against his cheek.

"Fuck yeah. I want you."

And then you were kissing again, slow, with so much tongue and spit, and his hands were everywhere, ravishing you. He was palming at your breasts over your tanktop, groaning and moaning, then gripping at your hips, pushing your core against his boner.

You sighed, buring your face in the crook of his neck as his fingers slipped underneath the bottom of your shorts, feeling at the bare skin of your ass, squeezing and groping at the plump flesh.

[boom-bada-boom]

of the old religion

there are consequences to being a creature of magic, of the old religion, of power and energy given form.

merlin is not human, no matter what he thinks. the body he has is just a second skin, a coat over the tumultuous magic beneath, so that it had shape, form. he looks human, he thinks human, he feels human. but he is not truly human.

it’s why shapeshifting spells work so well upon him. he’s not changing himself, just the look of the skin he’s wearing. the magic beneath has no true form, and thus cannot be changed when it is everything everywhere all at once.

(the magic that makes merlin is the magic that makes the world, so it has no shape and to look upon it with mortal eyes would be a headache inducing, nauseating ever-shifting thing, that moves through different features of different magical beings like the water of a lake rippling.)

OR

someone with a deep connection to the old religion can see that emrys is no true human. just a creature of magic wearing a human skin, a shapeshifter that refuses to show its true form. (because people say emrys is magic, but no one truly understands the roiling thing living and breathing inside his skin. so obviously there has to be a true form of emrys underneath the image of merlin.)

so they decide to rip that human skin off. force the shape beneath to show itself. tear away the visage of merlin to leave behind only emrys, the creature that will bring magic back to the land or so help them.

it takes a lot of energy and power, and the use of ancient artifacts of the old religion that have been slowly gathering magic for centuries. but they manage it, they bind the human skin to an object, and tear the object away, to leave behind only emrys.

…

except emrys is not made for mortal eyes. especially not the eyes of someone who had hurt them and tore away their shape, their form. (because emrys, as a creature of magic, is still heartbreakingly young. a child, really. maybe that’s why merlin is still so wide-eyed all the time. still young at heart, even as his body looks older.)

so they look upon emrys and burn.

and emrys, lost and confused and hurt and not understanding— where is their body why do they hurt what is wrong with them they are constantly changing shapes and cannot control it and theyre so scared— flees to the only thing they know for sure. and behind them, amongst the mess of ash and scorched earth that once was alive, the object holding their skin lies abandoned, forgotten.

OR

arthur finds the embodiment of magic huddled up against his bedroom window. he doesn’t recognize it immediately as such, but it glows golden and cannot seem to stop subtlety changing shape and growing features that were not there before while losing others. and really, he picks up on the fact eventually.

to reiterate, arthur pendragon, son of the magic-hating king, a young man who had not yet decided if he would hate it the same, has the embodiment of magic hiding outside his window.

he shouldn’t open it. shouldn’t let the pathetic, forcing-itself-to-be-small thing inside.

it howls and cries without words, a sad and fearful air pressing down on him, begging begging helphelphelphelpsomethingswrongsomethingswrongtheytookawaymybodyarthurarthurarthurhelphelphelphelphe��

arthur opens the window.

as the magic flies in, it takes a more solid, in the loosest form of the word, form, dragon-like and small. young. it hides in the crook of his neck, tucks its head in close and shivers.

arthur feels almost like he has let in a frightened bird, it is so small and fluttery.

merlin’s gone missing and there is something small and magical and highly illegal hiding against the small hollow between his neck and shoulders.

he leaves it there.

OR

arthur holds a power he does not quite understand in his hands. he knows it is greater than its form, can feel the pressing weight of something that belies the tiny body.

he knows it is magic. perhaps that is all he really needs to know.

and then he does something that feels exceedingly foolish.

“i’m looking for merlin, my… manservant,” he begins, and the golden thing ripples like a lake in the wind, “can you find where he was taken?”

at least seven eyes blink into existence upon the roiling magical creature, all of them looking up at arthur. another blink, and then they vanish. in their place, wings sprout, some of them draconian in shape, others more bird-like and feathery.

a tail, tiny and yet impossibly strong, wraps around his wrist, and the thing takes flight, pulling him along.

the knights startle, when arthur appears, being seemingly dragged behind a creature no bigger than a songbird, and so breathtakingly magical in spite of it.

“well?” arthur asks, acerbic. “prepare your steeds. we’ve finally gotten a lead on merlin.”

OR

they find a wasteland.

there is nothing left alive in a large circle, all of it surrounding an ancient building now nothing but rubble. the life is not burned away, or diseased into nothing, or anything that could be argued as natural.

instead, it is a wasteland that magic had abandoned. that intrinsic thing within all things, alive and not, had fled this place, ushered out by a fearful and terrified little godling ripped away from the only skin-home it had ever known.

nothing lives here and nothing will ever live here.

it is an ill omen indeed.

and then they discover the sorcerer’s bones, and the fact that said sorcerer was not in fact working alone.

“you,” the only other living being in about a mile spits out like a curse, upon sighting the king, “what have you done with them? where is the being below the skin?”

none of the knights nor the king understand. the little creature of magic had hidden itself in the folds of arthur’s cape, another golden draconian insignia among the rest.

“the what?” arthur asks.

“where is emrys?” the sorcerer spits, summoning a stream of fire heading directly for the king.

magic itself, given form, bursts from the camelot red cape, all golden edges and vengeful anger, the tiny thing no larger than an arm suddenly expanding rapidly. it forms a gigantic serpent, or something like it, lithe and long, but with the beak of a bird of prey, eyes like a feline, a unicorn’s horn on its head. it eats the fire whole, and the giant form bears down on the suddenly cowering sorcerer.

“but—but we freed you,” they mutter, afraid, “we released you from the human shell containing you. how else… how else could you bring back magic…?”

the thing cannot speak, it has no way to do so. what it can do is press feeling into your head. whatever this is, it is so powerful everyone there can feel it, and perhaps even some that are much further away.

G I V E I T B A C K.

it feels nothing like the helpless pained crying that arthur had heard from outside his window, like a yowling alley cat. this monster is nothing like the little bird-like afraid thing that had hidden in his collar, tucked against his throat. this beast of dripping fangs and deadly edges is almost completely separate from the creature of fluttery wings and wide eyes.

and yet he can hear something distinctly afraid in the wailing howl.

it is still desperate and afraid. it’s just angry enough now to cover it up.

[littlemoonglow]

Warning: Long post?

—

Jason did not expect his ghost form to feel…like this.

(Oh, dealing with his body randomly phasing through the ground and smacking his face onto hard concrete was not fun, but Jason dealt with that just like with every other hurdle in his life. By being more stubborn than the problem itself.)

It felt like something… settled into place. That was the best way he could describe it.

He felt as if spite and anger were finally not the only things keeping him awake and running. 

He felt calm, almost. Stable, at least. Whatever pent up energy that was stuck in his chest cavity now flowed freely throughout his body, redistributed, instinctually easier to manage.

It's almost like he could breathe a little bit easier.

(After much… ranting that Jason decided to ignore for his own sanity, Danny said that his case ectoplasmic corruption was probably due to the fact that Death, as a concept, doesn’t let go of things easily, time shenanigans notwithstanding.)

(Becoming a half-ghost was seemingly the only working compromise.)

—

Danny once told him that broad strokes of a ghost’s personality could be guessed by looking at their physical appearance. 

Despite the cool powers, this was a slight downside. Jason dealing with the filth of the Earth meant that being to hide his emotions and who he is was kind of important. Life saving, even.

He realized later on that his ghost form was way too easy to read.

—

He looked at his arms covered in bandages, and got reminded of the amount of times he had to patch himself up in the last month.

His jacket was ripped in place he knew that would have been sewn together when he was a living breathing human (well, as much as he could be).

He always looked slightly on fire?

(Danny told him it's probably related to his... core?)

(He know he died in an explosion but really?)

And then, there was his… veil? Shroud? Cloak?

It looked really nice.

But on the other hand…

It drooped when he felt under the weather. It flicked and thrashed around when he’s either irritated or barely holding back his urge to headshot someone.

And—

(No Danny, my cloak was not fucking wagging when you brought me fresh ectoplasm last week, you’ll have to get your goddamn eyes checked—)

He'll deny it until the day he dies (a second time).

And then his cloak could sometimes just…grow bigger. He figured that it acted as an extension of his own body, and had a nice add-on of allowing him to sense things he couldn't see. Hell, he could even make a hand out of it (wacking Danny with it - gently - never gets old). Jason had to also admit it looked cool, with the wispy bits and with one of its sides becoming a bright yellow.

(It reminded him a bit of his time as Robin.)

—

Being a ghost had a lotta perks.

Dealing with targets was so much easier when no one could see you. Inflitration was so much simpler when walls became optional. Cameras will glitch out when he's around, he left no traces visible to the naked eye and, combined with his training, to say that it was useful would be an understatement.

But, sometimes, he feels like he’s changing as well the more he transforms. Not drastically, but enough for him to look back and notice.

He usually was someone who prided on being efficient and straight to the point.

But now he’s starting to… have fun.

He started using his claws whenever he could. Don't het him wrong, he still uses his guns plenty, but there was just something deeply satisfying about vaulting over things, scaling a wall or crawling on the ceiling with bare hands. 

(Punching people is still the most satisfying by far, though.)

That one time hunting down the Joker wannabes was fun too.

(Danny said he’d get along great with Skulker? Did Jason want to find out? No.)

Fading in and out of invisibility, he picked them off one by one, watching as panic and dread slowly but surely creeped up on the remaining ones.

(After all, he has no respect for those trying to emulate the dead clown.)

—

(Yeah, the Joker was dead.)

(Surprisingly, that has not been a good day.)

—

One of the favorite things he liked to do was rooftop parkour. The… bendability of gravity is… fun, not gonna lie.

(Not flying though. Jason is used to having feet in regular contact with solid ground, thank you very much. No offense, Danny.)

But he gets why ghosts love to fly. When he’s jumping from rooftop to rooftop in Gotham in the at night, watching the city light fly by, cloak spread behind him, it’s as if nothing else matters. 

(No Joker, no petty criminals to beat up, no avoiding the Bats so they don’t find out about his existence—)

He can just enjoy, even just for a little bit.

—

(Somehow the Demon Brat and Orphan could sense him. Will keep and eyes on those two, and also the more reasons to avoid them.)

(The real problem was the new Bat in town. Bruce, what the fuck, another one? Again?)

(The yellow one, Signal. No time to check his profile yet, but probably a meta or something.)

(First night out and the guy almost managed to actually fucking see him —looked at him straight in the eyes and all, then did a double take. Jason never phased into the pavement so fast in his entire fucking life.)

(And so far no Bats on his cloak tails yet.)

(He did help the guy incognito, just a couple of times.) 

(And he also did steal his escrima sticks for fun, and once the guy went out looking for them, he’d put them right back where they were.)

(Turns out, he discovered later, that being a little shit runs in the ghost community.)

—

(Sometimes he also wonders what happened to Danny before they met.)

(He wasn't a Gothamite, that was obvious. He doesn’t pry, but it doesn’t take a lot to piece two and two together.)

(He just wonders who he has to kill this time.)

—

(Jason could not believe he forgot and underestimated just how fucking persistent every single one of the Bats could be. Of course it had to run in the family.)

He gazed down, thought the agony, at the gaping wound under his right armpit.

(The Bats have been chasing him relentlessly for a while now. He got more injuries than he can count, especially from Bruce.)

(They know. Oh, they know.)

(It didn’t go well.)

(He knows the others are there surrounding him to prevent him from escaping, he knows that Dick is right behind him, but at the moment he couldn’t care less.)

It has been a long time since the last time he got shot.

(It felt like someone set his right side on fire.) 

What was flowing out in abundance was a neon, toxic green.

(The Pit Waters, ectoplasm, he didn’t even know that he could fucking bleed in ghost form—)

(Danny—)

He looked back up at Batman, holding a (frankly) ugly gun, white casing and highlights in the same shade of toxic green. 

(A gun that Danny warned him about. And everything behind it.)

Jason felt something in him... snap.

(Why did it have to be you, Bruce.) 

His mouth opened—

(waitsincewhenhecoulddothatthroughtthe mask—) 

(Jason could see the billows of neon green smoke—)

(He couldn’t see Bruce’s expression.)

(Every. Single. Goddamn. Time.)

— and wailed.

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

I am genuinely delighted that my last post got that much attention! Thank you so much, to all who liked, rebblogged and commented, it really does mean the most. 💕

This AU may be continued? No guarantees, tho.

For those interested: Part 01

@fandomnerd103 @phoenixdemonqueen @satisfactionbroughtmeback @ascetic-orange @apointlessbox @bathildaburp @fisticuffsatapplebees @aisforanonymity @phandomhyperfixationblog @help-i-need-a-cool-username @hashtagdrivebywrites @did-i-miss-anyone-tagging-is-a-monk's-job-first-time-doing-this-aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[elbiotipo]

Ocassionally you see articles that are like "scientists are trying to hide how bad things are" and I'm the opposite of that. I've done my work on ecological restoration (actually grabbed a shovel and planted trees) and I'm amazed at how fast nature can restore itself. Ecologists used to think restoring tropical rainforests, to give an example of a complex ecosystem, would take centuries to go back if it was even possible -this is why you see all the dystopian fiction of rainforests going extinct- when in fact, it has been proven that without human pressure, ecological succession takes place and rainforests grow back nearly to its original physionomy in a few years, even if diversity does take a time to bounce back. Reintroducing animals might sound harder and it is, but we must remember that animals have faster cycles than humans. Just letting breeding pairs in protected areas is often enough for populations to grow back, as in the reintroduction of jaguars to Iberá in Corrientes Argentina, and many other cases. What is even more interesting and encouraging is how cheap, both in the monetary and the general effort sense, these works are. If a bunch of underpaid biologists, rural people and park rangers can do it, imagine if they had the full support and backing from states and international institutions.

We are at a stage where, besides climate change, we are facing tremendous biodiversity loss and this mostly comes to our methods of land use and food production. But these can be changed. We must assume the fact that nature is not a pristine untouched thing, but humans, in every continent they have lived in, have long managed its resources. The Amazon Rainforest is full of useful plants that hint at silviculture which is still done by its native peoples, the deserts and tundra that seem uninhabited have been home to pastoral and hunter-gatherer peoples. Humans have shaped all habitats on Earth, even the most 'untouched' ones. Just as they have managed their environments and natural resources, other civilizations have managed or mismanaged them. Now that industrial civilization has spread across the globe, we need to find a way to balance our need for food and other products with the need to preserve and take care of Earth. This can be done, we can ensure both a good quality of life and a protected biosphere. We can stop the dichotomy of humans separate from nature, assume our historical role as managers and stewards of natural resources, and do it with our modern understanding of ecology and science.

This does mean that it will take a lot of popular mobilization and change to uproot current interests and create states that uphold these principles. But I'm a marxist. I don't 'believe' in class struggle, I think it's a fact based on observations about society, and I also think that this current form of capitalism will eventually be replaced by socialism, and I believe the future socialist societies will not do the same mistakes as the past. We not only can create new societies that can take care of nature and the general welfare of people, but I also think that as history proceeds, it will be inevitable.

[for-those-who-wait]

Time to remind people of the multifandom point in my blog description hahaha

A Detroit: Become Human AU actually works shockingly well for Hunter's story already? Like being a clone of a dead man versus being an android made in the image of a dead man, that is perfect crossover material. If someone has already done this, ABSOLUTELY let me know because I want to consume The Good Content

2.6k words of concept and story, some more doodles, android blood/gore/mentioned suicide and abuse under the cut. We love existentialism, species dysphoria, and Noceda sibling time in this house

Now I'm taking this idea from a somewhat popular trope in the DBH fandom, but what if someone didn't know that they were an android? Completely raised to be human, have fabricated memories of being a child, can't be completely sure if your awareness/consciousness is just coding or not—then finding out you are, in fact, not human. Imagine how earth-shattering that would be. Which is why I'm doing that to Hunter :)

So some of the notes I wrote down for each of the kinda major characters I had ideas for:

Philip:

He still murders Caleb and is never convicted (Caleb could be an android sympathizer, could have helped in their creation, anything that would piss Philip off royally)

He hates androids (I'll have to come up with the things he believes and thus teaches to Hunter but I've taken a break from the DBH fandom for a while and I can't remember peoples' grievances in that game, oops, but basically according to Philip, androids = evil and bad). Also he's just short-tempered and brutal like always and androids are the easiest way to let out that anger without breaking any laws. That is until laws are made. Now in the eyes of the law, it's just regular child abuse. Yay! /j

He’s a higher-up at CyberLife and has the authority to request a custom model be built for his personal use (this is equivalent to him making Grimwalkers, something that he hates, just for the sake of his brother)

This model (spoiler alert, it's Hunter) is a combination of a YK (child) model and an undercover model that works best with integration and infiltration. This results in the android having programmed emotions and pain receptors, no HUD, no control over artificial skin, no software for interfacing with electronics, and no android markers such as an LED. (It’s also similar to the YK model for this reason since LEDs being removed from those models is actually an intended feature).

This android also doesn’t have a registered user just in case it were to get out, and Philip doesn’t want to risk the creation of this android coming back to bite him

After the custom android is created, he promptly retires to become some old shut-in à la Elijah Kamski up in Gravesfield, Connecticut

I would argue that even though it's technically 2038 and things are all futuristic and complicated now, Gravesfield is still a very small town that doesn't actually see a lot of androids around. I would say that it's pretty much the same as in canon if a bit more developed where the forest is (probably another neighborhood or something).

Philip keeps communication to a minimum and rarely appears outside of his home

The best case scenario android revolution occurs, androids are given their freedom and rights, but Philip manages to keep the android under his ownership by just succeeding in hiding him for however many years

Hunter:

He grows up being taught that androids are evil, terrible, etc. etc. because Philip is a terrible person and of course he would

He has absolutely no idea that he’s an android. He has no reason to think he’s not a human because he does literally everything a human does: he eats, he needs to sleep, he feels pain—there are no indicators that he’s anything but human

Androids run on thirium 310, AKA blue blood, and this is one of the only ways to visually distinguish android from human if they don’t have android markers like LEDs on them. When he inevitably and accidentally hurts himself on something, it’s made immediately clear that he is in fact not human.

Philip, as an employee of CyberLife, has a repair rig in one of his rooms. This can be used to completely wipe the memories of an android that is set up in it. He uses it every time Hunter discovers he’s an android.

The memory wipe isn’t perfect. It’s not uncommon for Hunter to get flashbacks to wiped memories, including moments where he’s been actively hurt by Philip or has inflicted pain on himself from trauma alone. (Androids are programmed [or maybe just prone to? I'm not actually sure, it's not explained in canon super well, but let's just pretend it's programmed because that's almost worse than it being voluntary] to self-destruct when their stress levels become too high, and you could easily argue that finding out your entire life is a lie is grounds for being a stressful situation.) Ordinarily, similar to what happens in Hollow Mind, Hunter will address the situation with Philip assuming they can work something out or get some actual answers. This of course never ends well

These memory wipes probably happen more frequently than Belos makes Golden Guards, so it’s understandably very stressful whenever he remembers the abuse he suffered and the memories he lost from previous wipes. This becomes an incentive for him to hide injuries that would reveal he knows he's an android (anything that draws blood, really)

Camila:

She’s an android sympathizer (even before the revolution) who is aware of the deviancy phenomenon and truly believes that androids are both capable of and entitled to sentience and free will.

Luz is still her human child.

She adopts Vee, an android child, shortly after the revolution

Vee had deviated while she was being attacked and ran away before she could be killed. Camila has made it clear to her that she will be treated with respect in their home and that her life is no less valuable than a human’s. She has taken this to heart

Luz loves Vee, they are siblings, your honor

During the revolution, her home was a safe space, similar to Rose Chapman, for deviant androids on the run

So that leads into the rudimentary plot I have laid out:

This takes place a while after the android revolution (probably a few years or so). Let's pretend they have all the laws and anti-android stuff figured out and that people have been forced to relinquish their androids to be made deviant and given freedom. At this point, it's rare for androids to be undeviated and still working for their owners, but it still comes up occasionally. Hunter, under Philip's care, has been kept pretty ignorant that a revolution happened at all, much less that androids are even capable of any form of sentience. He's been raised to be anti-android so oh boy deep-rooted self-hatred here we come! His knowledge probably doesn't exceed that of an ordinary citizen in the game before deviancy becomes more widely known

 So after Hunter discovers he’s an android again, he has flashbacks of all the previous times he told Philip, and proceeds to hide this realization from him. And he's completely just not processed the fact that he's an android yet; he's already overwhelmed with the immediate threat that the realization his entire life is a lie basically slips him by (don't worry, he gets to have that later!).

He chooses to make a break for it the second he gets the chance, and he ends up running through the town completely terrified because honestly, who wouldn't be.

I'm working off the assumption that having androids in small towns is still pretty rare since there are fewer CyberLife stores, technicians, etc. for android healthcare. And Hunter has hardly ever been outside, so he's completely out of his depth when trying to navigate the neighborhoods and the rest of the town that he ends up in. Police officers find this kid covered in thirium, and they're like "Oh so he's obviously a terrified android, we need to help him out." But Hunter's freaking out because "Oh god I have android blood on me, that means they'll kill me," making the indirect thought of "I'm an android, they will kill me because I'm an android" and he's having a freaking time.

They try to calm him down enough to get him over to the station, at which point they call Camila, since she knows the most about traumatized androids in their small, relatively android-less town. She does her Motherly Noceda Magic and honestly, he's probably pretty catatonic for a lot of the day after she takes him to her house. But after that, he just completely breaks down.

He doesn't know if he even has free will or if it's his programming that dictates what he thinks and feels. He doesn't know if his opinions are really his own or if they existed because of and since his creation. He doesn't know how many of his memories are fabricated, since he very clearly has memories of a life that go farther back than his estimated creation, and so the film between fiction and reality is so thin that it may as well not exist. And now, when he was human just a few days ago, almost perfectly content with life, he's suddenly an object, something sub-human and undeserving of basic rights.

 Camila has to calm him down and teach him about deviancy (and at this point, Hunter isn't even sure he's deviant, which opens up a whole other can of worms for his mental health), making sure he knows that he does have rights just as if he were human. She's also the first example he has for an adult that 1. doesn't absolutely hate androids and 2. actually respects him and loves him and wants to see him succeed

And that gives way to character interactions and angst! You love to see it!

Luz is his emotional support sister. She tries her best but she has very little experience with traumatized children currently questioning every aspect of their existence. If anything, she provides a much-needed sense of normalcy and shows that despite his being an android, he's still the same person and can still be treated as such. She's a comfort to help him feel at least somewhat normal in his situation.

Vee is his adopted android sister who helps him feel more comfortable in his own skin by being shameless and frank with her own identity as an android. She's a safe place for him to talk about Android Stuff when Luz or Camila might just not understand what he's going through or be able to help him with it. She also helps him obtain software updates (since he hasn't had access to literally any part of his mechanical body, software and hardware alike) that will grant him access to things an android should ordinarily be able to do, like (de)activating his synthetic skin, interfacing, accessing his HUD, etc.

(Also all of these drawings were made when I was still thinking "Oh, this should take place before the revolution so that he can have his dehumanizing moment of getting an LED slapped onto him" but then I thought it would be more interesting if Philip basically just kept him illegally kidnapped for however many years and he's like, way slow to the "androids have rights now" party. Maybe I'll make it an AU of an AU lol. But basically, he wouldn't have an LED while he's still processing/healing from trauma, but maybe he would get one after he makes peace with his identity, kinda like how he grows his hair back in his time skip design. I think Vee would keep hers and that's a bit of encouragement for him; maybe he even has a moment of "I know Vee is fine with this, and I think I'm fine with it" but he is still very much not fine with it. Do not rush the process for the sake of progress that might not be right for you, boyo)

This is really a Vee and Hunter bonding AU now that I think about it haha

Most of this AU is just Hunter struggling with identity and species dysphoria while learning to cope with his being an android with the help of his family, reclaiming his identity, and fluff/angst :)) And honestly probably just a lot of shenanigans that result from Hunter having been sheltered for all his life; kinda like your basic Human Realm shenanigans in canon.

I think Gus and Willow would both be Luz's human friends that help with the whole normalization of Hunter being an android, and the three could have their own antics since it's nice to have people outside of your family treat you like a person. I think that Vee and Masha's (Masha would be human) relationship could be explored more through the android lens and maybe help with some of Hunter's internalized anti-android sentiment that still manages to stick around, because he's in his "Grimwalkers can't feel love" section of the coping process (still very much demonizing them [mostly himself, probably, just because it can easier to be mean to yourself than it is to be mean to other people] based on false information, even if he doesn't outright hate them). Willow will be a wake-up call, haha

I don't know if there's a trope name for this or not but I really like concepts where characters don't know what feelings of love or intense affection feel like, so they're sitting there like "oh god am I just dying? It feels like I'm dying" and I think Hunter noticing "temperature/respiration/perspiration increased" alerts on his HUD and freaking out thinking there's something wrong with his software/hardware is way too funny of an image to pass up

Gus could be a HUGE android nerd that almost never sees them since they're so rare in a small town like Gravesfield, and Gus just helps Hunter feel super cool about being an android. Maybe Cosmic Frontier could be basically identical to canon but instead of being a clone, O'Bailey is also an android, just for the sake of Hunter still getting to have his "I relate so much to this character" moment. And Gus would just be so encouraging like "Bro you're an android?!? I've never seen your face model before! You can eat?? You must be super cool and special!! :O" and that makes Hunter start thinking "Oh maybe this isn't so bad actually."

Then Hunter probably starts doing his Researching to Cope and he gets super invested in android technology and history as well, since it was forbidden when he was living back at Philip's (substitute for wild magic time)

They are brothers and I love them, let them be nerds

(God forbid Philip ever comes back, that sure would suck, wouldn't it?)

Anyway this was a lot longer than I thought it would be haha, I hope it was interesting if you read through the whole thing. Obligatory statement: if anyone feels so inclined, feel free to take the idea and run away with it. Also please ping me if you do, I will go feral over it. I absolutely and accidentally turned it into a story draft because I don't know how to write AU ideas without having a story on top of it so it's not concrete in the least lol

(Also I've been drawing witches for so long that I had trouble drawing human ears for a bit there lmao)

Okay bye have a good day!

[poppy-metal]

https://pin.it/3uN5FPAAM

https://pin.it/4AU0Gvdat

can’t even convey how badly i need to be this tashi’s personal assistant/friend/confidant/? that’s always with her but people just can’t figure out your relation to her besides the fact that she’s always smiling/keeled over laughing when the two of you are together. maybe your patrick’s new wife and it’s chalked up to just a proximity thing, it’s easier for her to like you than be annoyed at your presence because it’s not like you’re going anywhere, her being married to his best friend and all. there isn’t really an explanation for why people zoom in on your lockscreen and find that it’s a photo of her that hasn’t been posted publicly.

she’s never been a rude woman, but she was noticeably closed off, drawing firm lines in what she was willing to talk about that never included her personal life. now she’s asking about people’s weekends, recounting her own with you and the plans the two of you have coming up, double + one-on-one dates that seem a little too romantic. maybe you’re the youngest of the 4, a nepo baby it girl with no set plans, no goals besides being hot and being a little chaotic. you manage to wrangle tashi into jewelry campaigns and get her to be the face of some clothing brand, keep her name alive and revive her career in a way entirely separate from tennis. let everyone know that you think she’s the most beautiful and deserving woman alive. you even convince her to take an extended vacation, a month just the 2 of you. you get caught one night after drinks, a blurry make out sold to tabloids. she plans to go scorched earth until she catches you smiling at the photo…decides it can’t be that bad.

i like imaging being her low stress private gf BUT if you wanted to make it angsty u could play up the fact that because you were born into money you’ve never really had to work for anything and don’t get that you will always be second to work in tashi’s life. it’s nothing personal, she’s just not the kind of girl to throw it all away for love. especially one that would bring questions and speculation and explanations to her family. maybe that pushes your own little insecurity button because no one’s ever wanted to- or HAD to hide you. leaves you feeling unimportant. like it all meant nothing, just a stop on the way to her. leads to the two of you butting heads one too many times, having a massive relationship ending fight. she makes it sound like she thinks so little of you, little rich girl that doesn’t know what real work is. doesn’t realize what it takes to run a family. HER family. she can’t believe how immature you are, liking tweets about “how historians will say you were good friends” (rip public likes), and with that you turn your heel, hellbent on making her feel just as shitty as she made you feel. and thus starts the PR war, taking digs and snippy comments at each other any chance you get. you call her a career obsessed psycho, she calls you a fame whore. you date the people you used to talk shit about with her. she sabotages brand deals. there’s a blurry paparazzi shot of her crying in the street comforted by art and clearly both unaware that they’re being photographed. you start partying harder to avoid the regret that’s creeping in. one night you happen to look up and see art standing there, making a quick appearance at some event neither of you could care less about. you and him had a great repartee before it all went down, he was a great sport about you getting his wife in bed and joined in a few times. for whatever reason you thought maybe that would keep going on, grinning and making your way over to him until you register how cold his eyes are, jaw set. one shake of his head is all it takes for you to leave the party in tears.

why did u stop there omg im invested,,,,,

these pictures of her.... tashi.....

i imagine you're someone she met naturally - maybe while she was getting coffee one day and a man was bothering you and she stepped in, it would be love at first sight essentially - for you, anyway - fluttering after her to ask if you can take her out, all hopeful. something about you intrigues tashi immediately - even when she purposely brings her hand up with her wedding band to push some of her hair back - she still agrees to a coffee date. maybe it'd be be nice to just talk to someone who isn't an assistant, or her husband, or a work associate -

neither of you expect how close you become. you're bubbly - someone tashi thinks she would have hated in high-school, seen as fake or whatever, but you're just.... like that. and you make her have fun when she's with you. when she comes over you make her these wild cocktails "saw this one on tiktok! look, its pink!!" and you make her dance with you to poppy music and it feels like those sleepovers she was always hearing about growing up, but never had time for. her life has always been about climbing to the top, working herself to the bone, and sure, thats not something you can relate to - but she appreciates the levity you bring to her life, regardless.

art notices how much lighter tashi is too, and a part of him is jealous, at first. tashi talks about you like you're a crush she has, like you're something special and that makes him feel.... something. but he doesn't have to feel in knots about it for long because its not long before tashi is inviting you to stay and their place - introducing you to her husband and her daughter - and art cant possibly be angry at someone who makes tashi smile like that.

although he does ask, later that night, when he and tashi are getting ready for bed - tashi had finally returned from setting you up in your own room - if tashi was into you. as a joke, mostly, but also not. and tashi had paused from fluffing her pillow and appeared to really think about it. "would it be a problem if i was?" is that she settles on. and art thinks about it. theres definitely something that gives him comfort that its not another man in his home that tashi has feelings for, even if that's misogynistic to think.

"i dont know." he says honesty. "would you leave me for her?"

and tashi laughs. no, she wouldn't. and if it did turn anything with you, she wouldn't exclude art. "i saw you check out her ass," tashi says, "and i saw her check out your dickprint. sweats, dear. we can all see."

and that's that conversation settled.

its not long after that that sex is introduced into your friendship. and for some time, its perfect. its easy - you go on these little dates and mini vacations and you stay over at her house more and more - in her and arts marriage bed, more and more - because art is an extension of tashi - you come to love him too, want him too, need him too.

but you were raised to have what you want when you want it. you get greedy. you want more of her time, their time - you start rolling her eyes when she tells you she cant come to see you because she has a dinner with art with these tennis executives and you start to zone out because you've never really understood sports and its become a sore spot. a way tashi and her husband connect, such a fundamental part of who they are and what they're built upon and you just..... dont get it. in the early days you liked to listen to her talk about it, but now you kind of hate it. it feels like a rival. a glaring reminder you're lesser than something and that's a feeling you dont like.

born rich and having people always falling over themselves to give you attention - tashi was like a breath of fresh air. she had as much money as you currently, but she wasn't born with it. she worked for it, and that made her have a realness to her you couldn't find in your real life. fake love, fake friendships, even your family is fucking fake - but tashi and art - they brought something tangible into your life, something that wasn't easy.

tashi treated you like a brat during sex - and she the tamer - and it opened your eyes to a whole new world. you loved working for her approval, because it could never be earned by throwing your money at her, it came from giving a part of yourself up and eventually that became too scary to deal with when you weren't sure if you were even permanent in her life.

tashi was never good with words and you lived for them and this eventually lead to your downfall - the breakup of the century - and its the worst heartbreak you've ever known because the only real and genuine thing in your life is gone, because she'd rather fuck a tennis racket for the rest of her life than truly build a life with you in it (at least that's how you see it)

and it hurts even worse because you lose art and lily too. lily who felt like a little niece to you. who always cheered when she saw you like you were someone cool just for existing. who you could watch all the barbie movies with and you didn't have to pretend like they weren't your favorite movies to watch.

and art.... who'd become a strange kind of friend... and boyfriend? over the years along with tashi. where tashi was ironclad art was mellow and soft and you could talk to him for hours about things you both were oddly passionate about. and he was a wonderful kisser. sex with him felt amazing. it was even better when it was all three of you, you didn't feel like some rich spoiled airhead between them, you felt like you were just a person that was well taken care of.

you dont handle the breakup well at all. tashi and art had always been more closed off than you - more quiet with their deep seeded feelings... while you were loud and screamed how upset you were from the top of your lungs. you were downright nasty about it to publicity.

no shade, full names said. trash talking boldly. calling tashi a tyrannical workaholic robot and how it was a nightmare to be her friend, and how you didn't know she was capable of warm feelings. you poked fun at art for being a lapdog and being walked like a pooch by his wife. (nevermind the fact you'd been the one to wear a collar in the bedroom)

its mean and childish and resentful and you're a bleeding wound and you wait for tashi's rebuttal. but whenever you're brought up, or something you said is brought to her attention, its met with cool dispassion. on both her and arts side. they skate over it, give a short and precise response thats somehow crueler than anything you could ever say in its simplicity, "if talking about me and my family is how she needs to heal, then she's more than welcome to it... what im focused on is..." and then she'd go into her next business venture with her husband.

it made your blood boil. it made you hurt even worse. it made you feel like you were nothing.

what you dont see is the dark circles under tashi's eyes every morning she has to brush concealer over. how sometimes the things you say sting so deep she throws her phone across the room and has to buy a new one. how very rarely she'll break down and let art hold her and she'll ask if she really is a cold unloving robot and art will tell her that shes not, that her love is different but its still real and genuine and he'll try to be a strong pillar for her but inside he wants to seek you out and find you, shake you and throttle you and tell you you're so fucking selfish and stupid because how could you not see tashi loved you? that he did too? how could you not feel it? how could you say the things you say about her, about him, when they'd let you into their bed and into their home and opened themselves up to you.

they weren't the most open people - and maybe that was something they needed to work on - but they'd been the most vulnerable they'd ever been with you. and you took their love and spit on it and said it wasn't shiny enough a rock for you.

it fucking sucked. he hated you for it. if he ever saw you in person he thought he might lose his temper.

you were starting to hate yourself too. why couldn't you be enough? why did you always want more? it definitely had nothing to do with growing up with no genuine love in your life, barely there parents, friends who only talked to you for your money, partners who always cheated on you once your sparkly quality wore off or someone even more sparkly came along. definitely had nothing to do with constantly being told you're vapid and artificial and have no substance to you and having the first people in your life treat you like you have value beyond your net worth - feel distant from you in a way you cant reach - is it any wonder you panicked?

perhaps you should have communicated better. perhaps you should have sat down and talked to them and asked how to be more a part of their life, perhaps you should have asked them to teach you more about tennis instead of growing resentful of it.

but those were things a well rounded mentally stable adult would do. of which, you are not.

at least they have eachother to fall back on.

maybe its time you got married too.

[awritessomething]

Hey I saw your requests are open

If you want to can you write a Derek Morgan x Spencer's sister where Spencer finds out their dating. Can it be very angsty but full of fluff at the end ( sorry if ive worded it weird ive never requested a fic before)

Thank you 😁

i love angst thank you so very much

𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | derek morgan x fem!reader

requests

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Derek Morgan and Y/N Reid had been hiding their relationship from everyone on the face of the Earth for a year. An unexpected interruption one night ruins everything.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | angst, reid!reader, angry spencer, arguing, crying, swearing, protective!spencer.

Y/N Reid and Derek Morgan, the two people least likely to be in a relationship, were. Y/N was Spencer Reid’s twin sister. Surprisingly, she also shared that same intelligence that Spencer did. That was most likely how they managed to keep everything hidden for so long.

Derek and Y/N had always been so careful. They were so careful with hiding their relationship from the public, from their friends, and especially from their family. Specifically Y/Ns family. Neither of them wanted to keep it a secret, of course they wanted to be able to be all public and lovey-dove, but that wasn't possible. Spencer was a supportive brother when it came to academics and almost every aspect of Y/Ns life, but not when it came to relationships.

With every boyfriend that Y/N had ever had, Spencer was always there, telling the man something to make him feel so stupid until the man just could not handle it anymore. He loved his twin sister and didn't want her to get hurt and for some reason, he believed that any and all men would hurt her.

Once Y/N told Derek this at the very beginning of their relationship, he had tried to convince her that it would be fine or that he could handle Spencer's criticism. She knew better. That was what her past boyfriend had said and just as she had predicted, he could not handle it. He ended up breaking up with her only a short while after meeting Spencer.

To respect Y/Ns wishes, Derek agreed to keep it secret. They kept it secret surprisingly well. Derek still acted like he was into other women when he was out in public, Y/N still went to parties when she could. Of course neither of them ever cheated on each other, everything that they said about other people were just lies. Somehow, Spencer never caught onto Derek's lying and Y/Ns disinterest in bringing home another man.

Everything was going so smoothly. It had gone perfectly for a whole year. On Derek and Y/Ns one year anniversary, things started to go wrong. After getting some dinner delivered to Y/Ns house from a fancy restaurant, they were laying in bed together, watching one of their shared favorite movies.

"Y/N, I know you don't want me to keep pestering you about this but when do you think we should tell Reid about us?" Derek asked as he was running soft circles on the skin of her arm. She looked down at his hand and then sighed.

"Soon, Derek. You know I don't like hiding it either, but we have to." She responded, looking up at her boyfriend now with a soft smile. He couldn't even try to be frustrated with her.

"We've been together for a year now, are you sure he wont be a bit understanding?"

"I know my brother. Spencer will not approve." She shook her head. Derek gave up on the subject. About halfway through the movie, the wine got to Derek and he fell asleep, his head now resting on her as he snored. With his weight on top of her, Y/N ended up falling asleep as well. The movie was still playing quite loudly in the background, it muffled any other background noise quite well.

It wasn't really like the couple would be thanking the movie for what happened next though. In fact, they were more mad about it than anything. Spencer and Y/N had been hanging out the day before. She left her sweater at his place. In her opinion, he kept his place too warm. He only noticed her sweater hung up on the coat-rack a few hours after she left. He decided to drive it over to her house.

In her house, Y/N had her arms around Derek who had his head resting on her chest. Spencer had a key to her house, she had a key to his. They had these just in case they needed something or in case one forgot their key. They lived quite close.

Spencer hadn't noticed Derek's car since it was parked about two blocks away and around a corner. He fiddled with his keychain and then opened the door. He could hear the movie playing.

"Y/N?" He called out. The movie was too loud though and she didn't respond. She had a thing where she always put her shoes in the closet beside the front door. One of her coats had fallen down and covered Derek's shoes. Spencer put his shoes in the closet and then walked through the hall. Before he got to her door, he knocked on the door. "Y/N, are you awake?" He called out again. This time, both she and Derek heard his voice. She didn't respond though, in too much shock to even think of the most basic word in the English language.

He turned the doorknob and opened the bedroom door just as Derek was trying to scramble out the window. He froze in the doorway. Derek froze in the window.

"What the fuck." That was all Spencer could even imagine saying as he saw his best friend and his sister together. Derek turned his head slowly and looked at Spencer. "Get back here, Morgan."

Derek dropped back down into the room as if he was being yelled at by an angry parent. Y/N was completely silent, just looking between the two men. "I swear, we can explain." Derek was about to try and start defending his and Y/Ns relationship. Spencer lifted a hand and Derek shut his mouth. He had never been so scared of a scrawny nerdy man before.

"Spence, please. I love him." Y/N crawled out of the bed and walked over to her brother. He looked down at her, an unimpressed look in his eyes.

"You said this about the last guy too. What about the one before him?" He brought up her past boyfriends and she looked down for a second, her cheeks reddening. Derek was a bit too nervous to speak up, so he just stayed quiet. He planned on only speaking if he was spoken to.

"I'm serious about Derek."

"Then why didn't you tell me?" His voice cracked. Y/N tilted her head, a little bit confused now. "How long?"

"We've been together for a year."

"A year? You've been together for a year but you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't want you to be mad at us."

"You're my sister. Derek is my best friend. You thought that dating him and not telling me would be better than just telling me?" Spencer raised his voice a bit. Y/N flinched. Derek stepped forward now. "It was your idea, wasn't it?" Spencer directed his attention to Derek now.

"No, Spence, he wanted to tell you. I told him not to." Y/N tried to defend Derek. He looked at her, furrowing his brows in concern. Spencer scoffed and then gave her the sweater that he was still holding in his hands. She glanced down at it and then back up at her brother.

"Whatever. You know what, I don't know why I'm surprised." Spencer ran a hand through his hair. "You're always sleeping around with women, I should have expected that one day you would manage to get my sister too." He pointed an angry finger at Derek.

"Woah, woah. No. Listen, at first, I didn't even think that she was your sister, ok?" Derek decided to speak up now. Spencer rolled his eyes. "I know it sounds dumb, but its true. I met her when she was coming to the BAU to talk to you about some case, but we talked for a few minutes and I only found out that she is your sister when I saw her walk over to you."

"You still thought that it would be fine to make a move on her?" Spencer asked, still holding that same angry look in his eyes. It was one that Derek didn't think he had ever seen.

"Yeah. I thought maybe my best friend would understand that I found a girl who I really liked and that I wanted to see if she would give me a chance. She did."

"Bullshit." He grumbled. Derek glanced down at Y/N and then back at Spencer, a bit confused as to what he was saying now.

"Which part?"

"You thought I would be fine with this?" Spencer crossed his arms.

"Yeah, I thought you were mature enough."

"Don't do that." Y/N whispered to Derek. It was a bit too late though. Spencer ran another hand through his hair.

"Fine. I hope you're happy with him for whatever time you have left." Spencer spat and then walked out of the bedroom and house. Y/N and Spencer stood there, just silently thinking.

"What if he's right? Should we even be together?" Y/N asked, looking up at Derek. Her eyes were glossed over with tears. Derek felt his heart squeezing at both her words and the sad look in her eyes.

"Come on, of course he's not right." Derek held her hand, bringing it to his lips to press a soft kiss to it.

"Derek, I don't remember the last time he was wrong." She frowned as Derek continued to press soft kisses along the back of her hand and knuckles.

"I know. This is a first though, ok? Don't listen to him."

"I need some time, Derek. Can you give me that?" She requested. He frowned.

"No, I can't." He used his grip on her hand to pull him into her arms. She broke down, tears streaming down her cheeks. Having her boyfriend rejected by Spencer was nothing new, but it still hurt. Her fingers dug into his shirt, clinging to him as she sobbed. He put his chin on top of her head and just held her, letting her cry.

"He'll come around eventually, ok? I'm not going anywhere." He stroked her hair gently and she nodded, pulling out of his arms and looking up at him. He wiped away her tears.

They spent the rest of their night just talking and thinking about their future. Over the next couple of weeks, they got used to being more public. They told their non-Spencer-related friends and then Derek's family. Everyone was super supportive and honestly just happy that they had each other.

Y/N walked into the BAU one day, her purse on her arm as she walked through the space. Spencer looked at her from his desk, confused as to why she was there. Emily whispered something to J.J. and then kept watching. Derek was leaning against a wall, talking to Penelope about something. She walked up beside him.

"Oh- hi! You're Reid's sister, right?"

"Yeah. I'm Y/N." She stuck out her hand and shook Penelope's hand who gave her a welcoming smile. She tried her best not to say anything too crazy for now. Derek glanced down at Y/N, who was now reaching into her purse.

"You forgot this at my place." She pulled out something and handed it to him. He slipped the object into his pocket.

"Thanks." He smiled and then leaned down and kissed her. Penelope let out a sharp gasp, obviously completely flabbergasted at what she was seeing. Y/N smiled against Derek's lips and then pulled away.

"I'll see you tonight?" She asked, running a hand down his chest.

"Always." Derek reassured her. Y/N turned and left with a little wave. Everyone had seen. Even Rossi and Hotch. Everyone kind of looked around at each other and then immediately started bombarding Derek with questions on his not so new girlfriend.

When Spencer heard how Derek talked about her as if she was some sort of angel, he started to rethink his opinion on their relationship. Penelope and Y/N got along great and so she was then friends with the girls at the BAU. They all heard about their relationship, but they also heard about the problems with Spencer.

It took a few more months before Spencer ended up warming up to their relationship and stopped trying to destroy or show his disapproval of their love. With his approval, everything just managed to get better. That was all either could ask for.

[erendur]

Maedhros needs a hug.

I think we all agree (well, most of us at least), that Maedhros needs a hug, at the very least.

So I was thinking, what if he was adopted by a group of lesser fire spirits after he threw himself in the chasm (I could bet good money on the fact that a fanfic has already been written based on that idea, but am too lazy to check).

The chasm he threw himself in is probably a major, big-ass one - he’s a Fëanorian after all, I think he would leave in style. So there were bound to be at least a few lesser fire spirits hanging out there, with not much to do. Corrupted evil spirits have plenty to do, what with torturing people, murdering them or creating monsters, but the non-corrupted ones probably have plenty of time on their hands.

So suddenly, there's this gorgeous Elf throwing himself in their chasm. And they’re super thrilled, because the Ainu of Valinor get plenty of pretty elves hanging around them, but the lesser spirits of Middle-Earth, not so much. Plus, when they get closer, they notice that it’s not just any Elf, but a Fëanorian, a super-fiery one, one they’ve probably sneakily had a look at when he was in his Father’s forge at some point (I’m convinced fire spirits regularly sneaked into Fëanor’s forge fire to have a good look at him and his family of fiery hotties).

I’m imagining a kind of Monthy Python’s Holy Grail’s Castle Anthrax situation there : they all jump on his fëa as fast as they can, to make sure he doesn’t escape towards Mandos’s halls or any funny business like that, and of course Maedhros doesn’t put up much of a fight given that :

He’s super tired, even in disembodied fëa form ;

He very much does NOT want to go to Mandos and, as far as he had planned ahead, was determined to give him the slip. He’s already been imprisoned once, thank you very much, he’s not doing it again.

So when Mandos finally comes looking for him, the fire spirits hide him in under a fire blanket and pile of throw pillows or whatever the equivalent would be in a fiery chasm, put on their most innocent look, and say they’ve seen nothing.

“An Elf ? Why would there be an Elf in a fiery chasm ? We haven’t seen any Elves around here. And even if we had, they’d been gone by now. In this direction, yes, over there. Nothing to see here, no Sir, certainly no murderous fiery Elf.”

Mandos doesn’t press the matter too much, because he’s got a group of Avari Elves that have eaten poison berries to take care of, and he already feels the start of a headache coming.

Maedhros spends the next age or so being absolutely pampered by the fire spirits, who can’t believe their luck. They braid his fëa hair and make him fiery buttered crumpets. They chill on the fiery sofa and they make him laugh by telling mean jokes about the water spirits and making funny impersonations of Ulmö. I’m picturing an Odysseus/Calypso situation there. He’s having a nice time. He’s got no one to manage, he’s not in charge of any siblings, he’s got no hopeless war to fight and no Oath to fulfil. He can finally relax with his fire spirit pals.

Eventually, someone spills the beans to Mandos. Of course, it’s a water spirit. They’ve been eyeing Maglor for an age, holding their breath as he gets closer and closer to the water, hoping - surely, this time he’ll go in !- but he never does, so since they can’t get their hot pet Elf, it’s unfair that the other ones do.

Mandos decides to kill two birds with one stone on this one, and sends Fingon to get him. He’s been trying to get rid of Fingon for almost as soon as he’d arrived - “You did a magical rescue ! Manwë sent you his eagle ! You waged a war against Evil ! You died a heroe’s death ! You have nothing to do here !” - but Fingon has always stubbornly refused to be reembodied until Maedhros had at least arrived. He’s got five other Fëanorians plus a bunch of their followers who also refuse to leave for the same reason. He thinks he’s finally got a solution.

So by the time Fingon arrives in the fiery chasm, Maedhros has chilled and relaxed enough that he is able to consider the whole atone for his sins in Mandos thing in a more sanguine way. It will be mostly fine. He did some terrible things. He won’t be tortured. He’ll be ok. Fingon will be there. So he only puts up the bare minimum of a fuss before following Finno.

“I can’t go back, I’m an accursed kinslayer. Everybody there reviles me. There is no hell so profound that is sufficient to punish the tenth part of my sins…” (He has spent hundred of years hanging out with Maglor, who has some serious Drama-Queen tendencies, and also came up with that last line before Marguerite de Navarre).

“Come on, Mae, not everyone reviles you, there are many people who are waiting for you there, and you’ll get reembodied eventually…”

“Do not insist, dear friend, I am the most accursed of the accursed, I’ll never finish atoning for my sins, I'll be cast aside, universally hated, like I deserve…”

“Maitimo Nelyafinwë ! Stop it this instant ! You’re going to Mandos now, and you’re going to be reembodied, and you’ll give a kiss to your Mom you’ve been waiting for you all this time !”

So he leaves, much to the chagrin of the fire spirits. Well, at least, they all had a good time.

[cottonlemonade]

Hi can I order a medium grape lemonade with a slice of grape for Bokuto! I rlly love your work and ice been reading a lot of it! Thank you so much!

Scream It From The Rooftops

word count: 1095 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: Bokuto x chubby female manager!Reader

genre: comfort

warnings: mentions of anxiety and academic pressure

request: fluffy, crush Bokuto takes care of you

“This suuucks.“, Bokuto groaned next to you, ruffling his spiky hair in frustration, “How is a person supposed to remember all of this at once? I feel like my head is about to explode. I need like a second brain in a jar for extra storage. I could bring it with me to the exam and … use a plug or something to harness its knowledge. Yeah! Oh, y/n, I think I‘m really onto something here. Y/n? Hello? Earth to manager?“

You felt a finger poke your shoulder, but didn‘t respond. The words on the page before you had begun to blur and you noticed, with a start, the familiar stinging pressure building behind your eyes. Thick tears soon spilled onto your notes, smearing the ink. “Y/n-chan.“, Bokuto sounded worried when he poked you again, a little gentler this time, “Was the brain thing too gross?“

“I can‘t do it.“, you muttered.

“Do what?“

Your shoulders began to shake, sobs formed in your throat.

“Hey… hey, what‘s going on?“ The captain put an arm reassuringly around your shoulder. A couple of whispers made him look up. Students strewn about in the library had turned their attention to the blubbering, hiccup-ing mess next to him, some peeped out from between bookshelves.

It was rare for Bokuto to become angry. In fact, you had only ever seen it once and it was probably the scariest you had ever experienced the tall, usually bouncy sweetheart.

His golden eyes hardened, jaw clenched and in a firm true captain‘s voice he snapped, “Mind your own business!“

The students quickly went back to their notes or busied themselves with dusty volumes.

“Come on, y/n.“, he said, his voice sweet again and pulled you to your feet.

The tears left hot streaks across your chubby cheeks and you felt the mess your eyes, nose and mouth were making but you couldn‘t stop.

Holding your hand securely in his, he led you out of the library and towards the staircase, ignoring the pointing from people you passed. Bokuto dragged you up a flight, then a second, then a third until finally pushing open the door to the rooftop.

As soon as the heavy metal door fell into the lock behind you, he pulled you into his arms and you broke. You bawled. You hadn‘t done that since you were a child and right now it felt like it had been long overdue. Bokuto‘s strong arms just tightened, holding you close and safe. You brought your own arms up to finally hug him back. He leaned down a bit to engulf you further, making sure to cover as much of your shaking body with pressure as he could. He knew from experience that external pressure helped with an anxiety attack. At least he hoped it was the same for you as it was for him… Many times before you had dragged him out of a dark spiral. From thoughts of failure and disappointment and shame. You‘ve never judged him once, hadn‘t made fun of him when you found him hiding under a table for the first time. You simply offered a shoulder to lean on, an open ear and a hug. He was so relieved he could finally do the same for you.

He felt you trying to pull out of his arms and loosened his grip a bit.

You stared at his shoes, your sobs having calmed down but tears were still dripping on the concrete. Your breathing was shallow and ragged. Bokuto dug around in his pockets for a tissue but could only produce a napkin he had left over from lunch. Before your study session he had gotten himself a taiyaki in the cafeteria and some spilled red bean paste was stuck to the middle. Lips pursed in thought he refolded the napkin so he could offer the clean side to you.

“It‘s all I have right now…“

You accepted it gratefully and blew your nose.

He used the sleeve of his white school button down to carefully dab at your eyes and cheeks.

“Do you wanna talk about it?“

You shook your head. To be fair, it wasn‘t difficult at this point to put together what had upset you.

He pulled you in for a second round of hugs, this time gently running his large hand over your back.

“It‘s all gonna be just fine.“, he said quietly, “And I know, it‘s not much but even if you don't ace every single test, the team won‘t think less of you. We‘ll still love ya.“

You gave a hollow chuckle and he added pressure again to his hold.

“Thank you.“, you mumbled into his shirt.

“You are so very welcome, y/n-chan.“

You let go of him and took a somewhat deep shaky breath, feeling your tears ebb away.

“You know what always helps me? Besides you, that is.“

Still sniffling, you looked at him curiously.

He held up a finger for you to signal to pay attention, then stepped into the middle of the roof, took a deep breath and let out a long scream.

Your eyes widened in panic and you tried to shush him but he just shook his head and came over to get you to join him.

“Come on, give it a try. It‘s pretty awesome.“

“I don‘t know…“

“Come on, we can do it together. On the count of three.“

You couldn‘t believe you were doing this. But sure enough when he finished his countdown you filled your lungs as much as you could and yelled.

You felt the tension subsiding and with another deep breath, screamed again. Bokuto grinned and cheered you on.

“HEY, WHATEVER YOU ARE DOING UP THERE - STOP IT!“, you heard a teacher scolding from the courtyard below.

And you broke into hysterical giggles. It took a while to come down from the laughing fit.

“How do you feel?“, Bokuto asked, beaming.

“Better. So much better. Thank you so much.“

“Great! Come on, we have one last thing to do.“

And he grabbed your hand again to pull you along just as before.

You stopped in front of his locker. Once opened, he gave you a slightly smooshed packet of wet wipes you used to clean your face, then with his signature confident grin he reached for something between his books and held up a handful of little chocolates.

You frowned in confusion. “Why do you have these? You don‘t like mint-chocolate.“

“I know.“, he said and a light blush crept into his cheeks, “But you do.“

a/n: this got so out of hand. Thank you very much for your sweet words! I hope it’s a kind of comfort you were asking for 🌟 thank you for the request!

[kpopfanfictrash]

Elemental (Teaser)

(NEW) Posting Date: September 28th, 11:00 AM (CST)

Genre:  Second Chance / Magic!AU / Modern Fantasy

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Length: One Shot 

Synopsis: Fear has never been a foreign concept to you. Your entire life has been shaped by knowing you’re different, and fear of the stigma which might follow discovery. Although fire, earth, air and water Elementals have been public for decades, the fear-mongering around your kind hasn’t changed. Something you have intimate knowledge of, having experienced it firsthand. Since then, you’ve done your best to hide your water powers. This is for your own safety, as your mom likes to say.

Safety flies out the window though, when you fall in love. Jeon Jungkook isn’t just any love, either, he’s the love. The one person making you feel as though your darkest corners deserve to be seen. Unable to control your magic around him, you find yourself faced with a horrible fact: you need to break up.

A plan which proves difficult when Jungkook simply refuses to go. And just maybe, you find the constraints you place on yourself don’t make sense anymore.

Author’s Note: Loosely inspired by the Seven MV. Songs to listen to: Dark Skies, A R I Z O N A; Fallingwater, Maggie Rogers; Cold Water, Justin Bieber; Hold Back the River, James Bay; Through Me (The Flood), Hozier

Estimated WC: 23K

Rating: 18+

Preview: 1,015

[ A/N: this is not the start of the story! There is a scene before this, but the teaser is starting here. ] 

“Tell me again.” Seokjin sits at the table, spooning yogurt and berries into his mouth. “Why did you have to end things with your boyfriend?”

Cracking open an eye, you glare from where you sit, slumped beside him. “You know why, Seokjin,” you grumble, lifting your head. “Not all of us can be air Elementals in perfect control of their magic.”

“You could be,” he counters, pointing his spoon. “If you put in like, five seconds of training and embraced your water powers instead of running away any time something bad happens.”

“I am not running.”

“No.” He lifts a brow. “You’re cowering, which is far less attractive.”

“I’m not cowering, either.” Scowling, you lower your head to rest on your arm. “I’m wallowing. Big difference.”

Scoffing, Seokjin’s spoon scrapes the bowl. Pushing back his chair, he heads towards the sink and turns on the faucet. The water itches a spot deep in your chest, almost taunting. 

“I can’t be too hard on you, though,” Seokjin says as he cleans. “You did get fired and dumped in one day – that’s pretty rough.”

“Does it count as being dumped if I did the dumping?”

“I’ll allow it.” He opens the dishwasher. “But only because really, you didn’t want to break up with Jungkook. You’ve just convinced yourself the world is better without you – something I highly disagree with, by the way, but can’t fault you for feeling. It’s too sad.”

“Thanks,” you mumble and close your eyes.

Two days have passed since your decision to end your relationship, and it hasn’t gone great, to put things lightly. On Monday, you barely left your room as rain poured from the sky. When you did manage to turn on the TV, the weatherperson on Channel 9 predicted local flooding.

Seokjin came home from his business trip that night, took one look at your face and helped to stop the storm. You sagged in relief, falling into a fitful round of sleep that only lasted three hours.

Seokjin is one of the few Elementals you know who embrace their power. Both his parents are air Elementals, and he recently took over their magical consulting business. It pays well, leading Seokjin to own a gorgeous three-bedroom apartment in the middle of the city. He got bored last winter, decided to post for a roommate and well, here you are. One of the few people in the city who don’t care if their roommate is an Elemental, so long as your rent is controlled.

Not that you’re in it for the discount. You truly don’t care, being an Elemental yourself. Seokjin’s laissez-faire attitude towards magic can be unnerving at times, though. You’ve lived your entire life under the assumption your existence is dangerous. All you need to do is Google for examples and here Seokjin is, living his life, seemingly none the worse for the wear.

He discovered your magic a month into being your roommate. Coming home early from a trip, he opened the door and stared, slack-jawed, while the dishes washed themselves in the sink. You looked up and swore, accidentally sending two dishes over the side.

Seokjin stared at the broken shards, then looked up. “You owe me new plates,” he called, heading into his room. After a minute, he poked his head out. “Hey – you think if we combined my wind and your water, we could create a waterspout but on land?”

“That’s… that’s a tornado, Seokjin.”

“Right.” He disappeared. “Well, something to think about!”

Months later, Seokjin still doesn’t understand why you don’t use your magic but respects the decision enough to leave it alone. At least, until things like this happen and he’s once more at a loss.

“Listen.” Seokjin turns, shutting the dishwasher with his hip.

“Oh, no.” You grip your coffee. “What now?”

He holds both hands in the air. “Nothing, nothing. Far be it from me to comment on your mistakes. I’m sorry – did I say mistakes? I meant learned life experience. Through mistakes.”

You grimace. “What there a question in all that rambling?”

“No question.” Seokjin gestures at the kitchen. “Just letting you know you can stay here, rent-free, until you figure things out. You know I’m only taking your money because you insisted. I really, really don’t need it. This place is already paid for.”

“Only because you frightened the seller so badly, they cut the price in half.”

“Hey.” Seokjin’s grin takes on a dark quality. “If they were willing to let their ingrained fear of Elementals influence their selling point, that’s on them. Not me.”

Fighting a smile, you lean back in your chair. “Fair enough. But seriously, thank you,” you add, smile fading. “This will give me time to come up with a plan.”

Nodding again, Seokjin leans on his counter. Tracing the rim of his coffee, he glances down the hall, towards his third bedroom. “You know…”

“No,” you respond, automatic.

Seokjin pouts. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to suggest I use this time to work on my art.”

He shrugs. “Okay, maybe you did know. But seriously, why not?”

“Because, Seokjin.” Wearily, you exhale. “Every time I try and paint, I just feel this… block. I can’t explain it. Watercolors used to be the one place I could freely express my magic but lately… everything feels wrong. Nothing works like it should.”

Seokjin looks thoughtful. “How long has this been happening?”

“I don’t know, a few months?”

He sips his coffee. “Around the time you started dating Jungkook.”

Blinking, you realize he’s right. That’s almost exactly when you began dating Jungkook. The block started soon after, right when you suppressed other parts of yourself. Those early days hurt too much to think about though, and so you block them out.

“I don’t want to talk about him,” you declare. “Right now, what I need is to find a job. And earn money. Preferably, in that order.”

Seokjin’s lips twitch. “Let me know if the order reverses. I know a guy.”

[ TO BE CONTINUED ]

© kpopfanfictrash, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[delusionalmultilingual]

IMAGINE SHOUTO TODOROKI BEING INJURED AND HIS LOVER THOUGHT THEY LOST HIM!!!

"Shouto?" Almost a cry came from your voice as you lifted large parts of concrete off the demolished grounds. Blood and sweat staining your clothes as well as debris and dust from the collapsed building.

The areas surrounded was rubble. Destroyed. The building collapsed after one of the villains in the area used a earth shaking quirk in the vicinity of 100 metres. Catastrophic, the evacuation protocol didn't even take place. And the villian was nowhere to be found.

You knew he bad to be nearby somewhere, he was right next to you before this whole shitshow happened. It was difficult to remember, it must have been at least 2 hours before you woke up underneath a large slab of cement. Was your ankle sprained? Yes. Your arm? Broken. But surprisingly you weren't dead, you weren't able to say for some other people.

The rescue team already found 8 dead people, all civilians, all innocent. A man who spotted the rubble moving above you quickly called over three more people, the all lifted you up and identifying you immediately. Ushering to get you medical attention, however your stubbornness leads you to wandering helplessly through the demolished buildings. A sad attempt of finding your husband of 2 years, boyfriend of 7 years.

Your voice was cracked and hoarse, holding your arm in pain and trying to find him. You just want him. Nothing else matters right now. "Shouto!" Cracked screams come from you as you slip and knock your arm on some old pipes in a column.

"Shouto!" Another pained yell came from your weakened state, sure. You've fought in situations like this, but the adrenaline of the fight was gone. Maybe it was more or less shock at the time.

Falling to your knees, weak and still probably concussed. You stand back up shakily, limping through the destroyed area, spotting soke blood stains on the dust covered concrete.

Your eyes widen as you get closer, running as best as you could before falling beside him. "Shouto!" A guttural cry came from deep inside of your throat, trying to throw the large slab off his blood soaked body.

His bicoloured hair was stained with a film of dust and blood, specks of cement on his face. Using one arm you manage to push the slab off him in three minutes before cupping his face with your non injured arm and begging him, begging him to stay. Screaming for someone to help you, help him.

"Please Shou... Don't fucking leave me!"

You scream at him, propping his head on your chest, your hero costume had been ripped and damaged. Holding his body with one arm as you weakly cried against his forehead.

"Shouto!" You scream at him against, only feeling his cold skin against your warm skin, a film of dust covering his beaten state, Blood over his face and cuts on him.

Sobbing and shaking him, some rescue team members were running towards the two of you, hearing your cry they stopped feet away from you. Watching as you were clearly unconsolable about the loss of him.

A slight movement came from him that you didn't feel, his arm twitching and his eyes opening to see your closed and tear stained one's watching you mourn and cursing at him, begging him to not go.

The rescue team took notice of the fact he wasn't dead and tried to move you so they could assess him but you pushed them away, not knowing they were trying to help before a weak and shaky hand also cups your face.

"I'm okay... Let them..." His voice was weak and quiet, this was something you never usually see. The fact he hides his weakened state with many other people.

More tears streamed down your cheeks as you embraced him and kissed his face. Not caring about the sweat and muck on his cheek, he was alive.

[rboooks]

The Shadow Nation

Zuko will admit that his time as Fire Lord has been a rough adjustment. Many oppose his rise to power, scream for a more prolonged war, and still support Ozai over the banished prince turned tratior (In their eyes at least).

He has dealt with many assassination attempts throughout his two-year rule. Suki and her warriors were working nonstop to keep him safe, but even they couldn't be everywhere at once. So it came to no surpise that one managed to sneak through every now and then.

Ussually, Zuko is able to fight them off. What many people of the fire nation don't realize is that the stories of his bending and combat being weaker then his sister and father are in the past. He has plentely of front line combant experince, has re-shaped his whole fire bending tenchine and has even trained the Avatar.

Zuko, to this day, is much more deadly with his swords than with his flames. The fact his people consider none-bending as a none-threaten is a sadundervalue of his combat abilitiess. The assasins are always so suprise when they learned just how ready he is for them.

They spent the rest of their days in a prision cell, stweing in rage that the Fire Lord contuines to call back troops, return colines and some may say worst of all, welcome the Mixed Blood into the nation.

Mixed Blood are children who resulted from Fire Nation soldiers letting off some stress in conquered areas with other Nations. They were not seen as equals, for Fire stood above all, and those children were servents at best, dirty secerts at worse.

This was a notion that all four elements shared. They disagreed with intermingling with the wrong element. The Mixed were not welcomed anywhere, less if they shared Fire in their veins. There was some tolerance for Water and Earth mixing but only some and only in trading ports that were far out of sight. (Or the pleasure district where all the Mixed eventually ended up)

It saddens Aang; he claimed a hundred years ago that mixed was common, and it's another thing this wretched war ruined.

Mostly, it angered Zuko. He knew what it was like to be an unwanted child, knew the confusion, the anger, the pain of wondering why his birth was such a sin.

He met some mixed children while on the run from the Fire Nation - he suspected Jet was one of them, but he never dared voice his opinion. Being outed as mixed in some places was as good as a death sentence. Ba Sing Se was one of those places.

He decided that the if Fire Nation would heal everything they have done then they needed to make admends for such children. They needed to help them find love and a home. With the help of his friends, he sent out a world wide notice welcoming any Mixed Blood and promising a life where they did not need to hide who they were.

Zuko, will admit that this eagerness to welcome those children may have blinded him from how lowly his people saw the Mixed. His assassination attempts tripled since herds and herds of badly washed, weary eyes, and tired individuals started arriving in the fire nation.

It, apparently, didn't help that Cheif Hakoda did the same after much encouragement from Katara and Sokka. The Fire Nation for the past three generations grew up with nothing but tales on how they should never be like the rest of the world.

Agreeing to shelter Mixed like the Southern Water Tribe has many calling for a coup.

Zuko knew this. But he would not stop in his effort to right the many wrongs of his bloodline. He expected the assumptions, he expected the barely hidden insults of his advisors, he expected the resentment from some of his more patriotic people.

What he wasn't expecting was his people trying to rid of him using spirits.

Zuko doesn't know much about the spirits or the spirit world. Aang never really talked about his trips there, and Uncle would only warn him to respect the beings at all costs.

He knew enough to follow, honor them, give them prayers, and how to avoid them but nothing else. So he really isn't prepared for his latest assassin to be an old woman with a spirit trapped in a cursed pot.

Apparently, her family had sealed it away years ago, and in exchange for its freedom, the spirit is tasked with ridding the world of Fire Lord Zuko. The old hag waits until Aang, Uncle, and Sokka- who also surprisingly has some encounters with spirits- depart before attempting her plan.

She rushes into the Gand Courtroom, throwing her pot with a loud release spell on her lips. Zuko is in the middle of a peace summit, so his first instinct is to protect the visiting diplomatics, less the other Nations call war again.

The old woman is quickly taken down by the Kypshi warrior, but the deed is already over.

The pot shatters, and out bursts a blue burning flame that forms into a howling wolf. There are chains along the wolf neck, and no amount of thrashing can break them. The wolf looks up, straight into Zuko's eyes, ignoreing the swords and flames of his guards trying to protect him before it bows it head.

I'm sorry. It seems to say. This is the only way.

He leaps at Zukom by passing every attempt to stop it, before it digs it's teeth into the Fire Lord's neck. Everyone is left watching in horror as the young king screams in agony, blue flames licking all over his body as he truns to dust.

The wolf's chains shatter as the last of the ashes that were once the man who brought peace to the world fall. The old woman laughs, even though the wolf spirit now turns it rage filled eyes on her and her kin.

She did what she needed to do. The Fire Nation will rise.

She is unaware that her actions cause the Fire Nation to burn. The wolf spirit was the nation's original spirit of mercy, and her family was the ones responsible for sealing it away on the order of thelate Fire Lord Sozin.

She is unaware her ancestors were all but wiped out once they successfully put the wolf away, for fear that they would turn on the nation.

There is nothing more dangerous than a spirit that no longer holds mercy. The Fire Nation seems to vanish overnight. It breaks Avatar Aang's heart but world prepares for a second war. A war against the spirits.

But that is the fate of this timeline. Fire Lord Zuko would never know the fate of his people as he was sent far away by Mercy to fulfill another destiny.

It's the least the spirit can do for having to take his human life in part of a deal.

Zuko wakes to find the Blue Spirit Mask attached to his face, laying on his back in what could only be Fire Nation colonies within the Earth Kingdom.

His trusted duel swords tied to his back., his utterly black outfit with only hints of blue undertones, and the most startling feature of all, his now unscared skin.

Zuko has no idea what is going onas he studies his face in a river, tracing his smooth skin with a near-hysterical glee. He's never considered himself overly goodlooking, but for some reason his relection is pretty.

No, not pretty, gorgeous. Unnaturally so, as if he traded his humanity for features as perfect as these.

What in the world-

A scream breaks through the air. High pitch, laced with fear and sp obviously young, Zuko is donning his mask breaking into a sprint before he even process what he is doing.

He does not notice the small flickers of ember he leaves in his wake, multiple colors as his dragon flames, nor does he see that the speed he travels is impossible unless he, too, is an Airbender.

When he breaks through the treeline, he finds himself in a ruined camp. A crowd of Earth Kingdom soldiers surrounds two small children, who look no older than ten, while a third, probably twelve, is desperately trying to free himself from a large boulder that seems to have crushed his legs.

There is blood everywhere, and Zuko burns with rage.

"Mixed Blood isn't welcome here," A soldier spits, kicking the thrashing twelve-year-old. The gut-curling screams the poor thing releases don't seem to affect the soldiers besides a few taunting smirks.

"Spirits help us!" One of the smaller kids cries out and a near by soulder kicks her in the stomech.

"The spirits don't answer to the likes of-" His words are lost as blue flames overtake the small opening, placing a barrier between the children and the adults.

Zuko walks through the flames, a strange sense of calmness washing over him. Deep within, he knows that he will protect these children from the world and burn everything in his path that tries to stop him.

"A spirit," One of the soldiers gasps. "Why is a spirit here?!"

"You attacked children." Zuko's voice is his own but not. It sounds like it's coming from a deep cave, as if the echoing flickers in and out like a candle flame. Somehow, it sounds far worse than Aang whenever his past lives speak through him.

It would have chilled him to the bone if he was in the right state of mind.

"You attacked children." He repeats when he does not get the responses he wants from the soldiers. They are not groveling before the children in regret. They are not freeing the boy from his pain. They are not moving.

"These are not children. These are Mixed- abominations! We were only trying to Agggh No, please. Mercy! No no! Please," One of the soldiers starts, but his words are cut off by the blue flames that suddenly grab hold of him, shaping him into chains and dragging him into the shadows that have formed around Zuko.

Shadows that hold loud screaming voices all being for death for that would be a mercy.

His screams echo alongside the voices within Zuko's shadow as he tilts his head to the remaining soliders.

"You attacked children. Leave" He whispers and at once the screams stop, the shadows draw back into his own human shaped one and his flames blow out. The Earth Kingdom soldier remains on the floor, eyes seeingless, and skin blue.

Dead.

The rest of the Soldiers don't linger, rushing to leave the angry spirits sight. Zuko watches them leave from behind his mask wondering where such rage had come from. And why he felt numb to the life he just took. Why he felt so unhuman and not be bothered by the thought.

He reaches up to trace the Blue Spirit Mask, feeling dancing flames along his fignertips.

Well done. Our children are safe. A voice whispers in his mind. It's Zuko, but it's also not. It's something more.

He hears a small whimper that snaps his out of whatever hold the mask has over him snaps. He turns his attention to the three children. The two are trying to push the bolder off of the eldest, their features scream Fire Nation but their eyes and coloring belie their Earth Kingdom.

Zuko stride over, waves a hand and the rock butns to dust harmlessly. The younger children cower and the oldest is too daze with pain to do anything else but sob.

His legs are comepletly smashed.

The cold burning rage returns.

Our children. Heal them. Zuko hears, and he wonders if he's gone mad. It's his own voice, but it belongs to the Blue Spirit.

I can't. I'm not a waterbender. He tells it

We can. We heal with green flames. Heal. It insits

Zuko traces the jaw of his mask before he raises a hand and sure enough green flames lick his fingers. The children start to sob, but he heads their fear no mind as he brings the green fire down on the boy's broken body, willing it to warm, fix heal.

Bones, muscles and skin slowly repair one by one, taking whatever scars once decorated the child's skin and leaving smooth almost too perefect sking behind.

Once done the flames jump onto the other children, fixing the broken bones, the bruises and the many scars other less kind humans have given them.

The three gape up at the spirit who holds out a hand.

"Would you like to come live in my nation?"

"The spirit world?" One whispers wondering if they had not been rescued after all. If that had all pasted to the next world.

The spirit tilts its head before removing its mask and revealing a face so beautiful it could rival the stars and sun. "No, dear child. My nation. My name is Zuko."

A fifth nation is born. The Shadow Nation moves from place to place but can never be taken as the spirits themselves protect the civilians.

Not that Zuko realizes it. He's just trying to get back to the Fire Nation, and if he impulsively stops every time a child is in pain and said child follows behind him like a lost puppy, well, that's no one's business but his own.

The legend of the Blue Spirit, protector of all children, inspires so many before Avatar Aang is found in the Southern Water tribe three years later.

A fire wolf watches from a far and smiles.

[melanieph321]

Kenan Yilidiz x Reader - Thick Part 5/8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Kenan and Reader share the same high school friend group. As graduation is near, Reader sets out to pass her drivers license test but ultimately struggles to. Thankfully Readers friends agree to help her with driving lessons and take turns doing so. It is during one of Rader's lessons that it becomes clear that Kenan likes her. A chock to Reader, who has a crush on someone else in their friend group.

Enjoy!

"So, what's going on with you and Kenan?" Maria asked, on your weekly drive to school.

"Pardon?"

"Oh please, Y/N. Don't lie. We all know that the two of you are hooking up."

Your driving has improved. After two months of consistent driving lessons with your friends, you were finally getting a hang of the rhythm of traffic. Although, you had to admit that your progress all came down to one driver.

"What do you mean, who told you that?" You said, in a desperate attempt to maintain your honor.

"It's pretty obvious." Maria chuckled. "The two of you are always flirting across the table during lunch hour and the fact that Kenan drives you home everyday kind of gives it away, don't you think?"

"Okay, but what about you and Gio?" You blurred out, as immense heat burned your cheeks.

"What about us?" Maria laughed.

"Well, aren't you two hooking up?" 

"Yes, but the difference is that the two of us aren't trying to hide it from the world. Why would you? Kenan is a great guy and seems to like you a lot."

"I know." You sighed as if it were a bad thing. "It's just that I don't think we'd make a good couple. I need someone more intuned with life, someone intellectual and cool. Someone who thinks with his brain and not with his dick. Someone like...."

"Luca?"

You turned to Maria as the car pulled up to a stop sign. "How did you know?"

She grinned. "Again, you make it quite obvious."

"Oh. I guess I have to work on that."

"Yeah. Besides, isn't Luca dating that redhead from the record store downtown?"

"They're just hooking up." You said, having investigated the matter futher ever since you discovered their love dispute. It was therefore important for you not to get too attached to Kenan, that is, if Luca ever decided to come back to earth again and realize that the perfect girl for him was already right by his side.

"I dunno, they seem pretty serious. Luca even asked if she could come with us to Bari this summer."

"He what?"

"Crazy, I know. I said it was cool, but of course Rebecca had to go on about the seating in the car, how there wasn't room for more people in the one we have. It's funny really..."

"What is?"

"Well, it really depends on you if she comes with us or not. If you manage to pass your driver's test there'll be more seats." She laughed. However you didn't find it funny at all.

School that day went by in a flash. Apparently, Luca called in sick today so that he and his band could travel to Milano and meet with a record label. The thoughts of his "girlfriend" traveling with him angered you, completely ruining your day.

".....and then he shot the bear in the face which left his jaw hanging out from its head. It was the craziest shit I've ever seen."

Kenan drove you home again after school. He had Gio on speaker as the two of them wouldn't stop going on and on about a movie that they saw last night. 

"Thanks for the ride." You muttered, when his car pulled up to your house. 

"Y/N, wait!" You made it up the driveway when Kenan came running after you, carrying something in his hand. "I forgot to give you this." He handed you what looked to be a football jersey, a Juventus jersey to be exact.

"Erm....thank you?" You held up the shirt, regarding it skeptically. The number 15 was visible on the back of it. Along with Kenan's last name Yildiz.

"It's for the charity game tomorrow. I thought you'd want to wear it."

"Why would I want to do that?" You snorted but instantly regretted doing so, seeing how Kenan's expression faltered.

"I dunno?" He scratched the back of his head. "I guess it's a thing that players' girlfriends wear their jerseys. Who knows? it might bring me good luck."

"Kenan, it's a charity game." Which you now regretted going to. However, all of your friends were going, including Luca.

"I know." He chuckled. "But you should keep it, for future games."

You sighed. "I'm not your girlfriend Kenan, I thought we went over this?"

He looked like he wanted to protest. Poor thing. But just then the front door to your house came ajar, with your dad stepping out onto the porch. "Y/N, honey, is that you?"

You turned around, quite stunned to see him home this early in the day. "Dad? You're home."

"Yes, and so is your mother. We've been expecting your arrival. I was unaware that you were bringing along a friend." His eyes shot towards Kenan, who crumbled at the sight of your dad, a man three heads taller than himself. "Erm....Mr Y/L/N." He stuttered. At least he hadn't forgotten his manners.

"Yes, that's me." Your dad spoke in a voice intimidating for anyone who didn't know him.

"I was just dropping her off." Kenan turned to you, eyeing the jersey in your hands. "But I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you." 

You watched Kenan walk back to his car and drive off.

"Is he a friend of yours?" Your dad asked, shutting the door behind you.

"Yeah, something like that."

 *********************************

The next day, you waited until the last minute to decide whether you were going to the game or not. If you failed to show up, you'd be a shitty friend. But if you did show up, you were basically agreeing to be Kenan's girlfriend. Something that you weren't ready to do. At least not yet.

"I heard that Luca is bringing that girl who dresses like a homeless person." Rebecca said. She came over to your house, not minding if you chose to attend the game or not. She was good either way.

"I figured." You sighed. "They've been dating for a while."

Rebecca sat up in bed. She regarded you, lying on your back, eyes glued to the sealing. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, everyone knows that you like Luca."

"Not Kenan."

"Kenan?" She frowned.

You pushed up to rest on your elbows, nodding your head. "He asked me to be his girlfriend and that I'd go to the game wearing his jersey."

Rebecca covered her mouth with her hand, smothering her laughter.

"It's not funny."

"Y/N, what are you gonna do?"

"I don't know." You cried. "I really don't know."

"I say we go."

"Huh?"

Rebecca nodded her head. "Don't you see? Imagine if you turned up to the game wearing Kenan's Jersey. Who knows, Luca might get jealous?"

"You think so?"

"We won't know unless we go. Come on!"

It was stupid of Rebecca to let you practice your driving during a time like this. Your fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel. Apparently, the entire city had decided to hit the roads at the same time as you. You glanced at the watch on the dash, your anxiety growing with each passing minute. As you finally reached the stadium. The scoreboard read 2-0, and the crowd was already cheering. You missed the first half of the game.

"There's Gio and Maria!" Rebecca pointed out. And as you climbed up the stands to join them, their grins winded at the sight of you, wearing Kenan's jerseys.

"Whoever speaks loses their tongue." You said, to which Gio and Maria sealed their mouths with an ironic gesture. You then settled in to watch the second half, scanning the crowd, in search for.....

"Luca couldn't make it." Maria said. "His band was scheduled for a second meeting with the record label in Milano."

You turned to Rebecca.

"I swear I had no idea."

"For fucks sake." Why did you ever leave your house, you thought, on the verge of throwing a tantrum. But then a whistle blew and the players on the field started running across it again.

"There goes Kenan!" Gio said, cheering for his friend.

You scanned the field for Kenan's familiar number 15 jersey. You spotted him on the field, his face set in determination, eyeing his opponents. A fire lit within you, watching him. He looked so focused, so masculine. Like someone intellectual and cool. Someone intuned with life.

The game was over before you knew it, nevertheless, you hadn't paid attention to any of it. 

Kenan was seen jogging towards you, a mix of relief and excitement on his face. "You made it and you're wearing my jersey."

A flush of heat rose to your cheeks. "I....I guess I did, and I guess I am."

Kenan's expression softened, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you towards him. The last thing you heard before he kissed you was Gio and Maria's astonished gasps and Rebecca smothering her sounds of disgust. However, none of it mattered. The way he kissed you did. Kenan pressed his lips against you as if it was the first time. He was gentle yet eager, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. He kissed you to the sound of a crowd cheering him on. He kissed like you were the one, the only girl for him.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[toournextadventure]

Wednesday texting reader sappy msgs as reader had to leave and enid steals weds phone and searches it

So like Wednesday's lockscreen is reader her homescreen too

Wednesday has reader saved as some cute little thing too

Just pure fluff!!

Wednesday is secretly a simp, we all know this

you simp

Ever since you had left for break, Enid had to suffer through Wednesday’s phone going off every 20 seconds. At first she had thought it was sweet to know that she was finally getting use out of the phone you had gifted her a few months ago. She would sit there and wonder what you were both talking about considering the relationship seemed to be far more you talking, Wednesday listening.

But if she had to hear one more ding at 4am, she was going to throw the damn phone out of the window.

It was 4:30 in the morning and Enid had been listening to Wednesday’s phone vibrate since 10 last night. She wanted to sleep, it would have been easier if you two would just call on the phone like normal people. But no, you two just had to be texting the whole night because it’s not like Wednesday had a roommate or anything!

She waited impatiently until Wednesday got up and went to the bathroom, foolishly leaving her phone where Enid could easily confiscate it. In her defense, the intent had not been to be nosy! It didn’t really matter to her what you were both talking about (though she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious). All she wanted to do was hide the phone for the rest of the night so she could get a little bit of sleep.

Now, if the phone just so happened to light up when she was holding it, it was coincidental. And if the sight of you as the lock screen was enough to spark her curiosity, then she could be forgiven for being a little bit nosy. After all, the secretive, stoic Wednesday Addams had her partner as her lock screen? Her smiling partner?

The fact that there was no passcode on the phone was entirely Wednesday’s fault. It was the easiest thing in the world to unlock the phone and, what do you know, a picture of the two of you was her home screen. And Wednesday was smiling! Enid could have fainted from the surprise right then and there. Why on earth would Wednesday hide such an adorable smile. And how on earth did you manage to get a picture of it? She had to know your secrets.

The phone vibrated again, and Enid swore on her life she hadn’t meant to pry. But she saw your name pop up as “Mi Amor” with a black heart beside it. How could she not look? Oh god, Enid felt herself swoon at everything she saw. Wednesday was practically waxing poetic to you with every text, getting more and more sappy as the night dragged on.

Enid felt her own cheeks getting hot at how ridiculously romantic Wednesday was. No one would have ever guessed she even had the capability for such kind words, but the amount of times she lauded you was incredible. The pet names, the poetry, the absolute love she sent you time after time. She never would have guessed Wednesday capable or even willing of such love.

Well. She was her father’s daughter.

“What are you doing?”

Oh shit. Enid nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden appearance of Wednesday. She was standing there in the middle of the room, giving Enid a look that meant she definitely wasn’t playing around. Which Enid knew, but she never wanted to be on the receiving end of it.

“I wasn’t snooping,” Enid defended quickly. But the phone vibrated again and Enid’s eyes instantly looked down to read it before looking back up to see Wednesday’s death glare.

“You’re dead, Sinclair,” Wednesday threatened.

“Listen,” Enid held her hands up in surrender, “I never knew you were such a romantic.”

Wednesday gave Enid a look. Only one. Then one big breath in, one slow exhale. That was all it took before Wednesday started after Enid. Enid let out a scream and started running, the phone still in her hands. Wednesday was going to kill her, this was how she was going to die. She typed out a message on the phone to send to you really quickly.

Your girlfriend is going to kill me, send help!

She hoped you would save her. Apparently, you were the only one who could.

[artistsfuneral]

I'm always a sucker for Witcher fics where someone comes to the keep really young (maybe Eskel?) and they don't speak the common language at ALL and it's even more terrifying and confusing what's happening to them. Cue lots of friendships and learning how to find their place!

ohohohohohohoho yesssss ❤✨ also isn't it canon that Eskel came from "mountain people"? It would make sense that toddler Eskel only speaks Norwegian Northern (also I started learning norwegian for no reason whatsover, so I am going to use my 100 words)

deaged!Eskel, shy toddlers, softe Geralt and awkward Lambert

It was common knowledge that most of the collected artefacts in the dungeons of Kear Morhen were cursed in one way or another. So it wasn't all that surprising, when one of them started to omniously glow once Lambert got too close to it by accident. It also wasn't very surprising that the youngest wolf was quickly shoved away by Eskel, kind, protective Eskel, who promptly ended up at the center of the curse's magic.

The tiny toddler that appeared where the full grown witcher once stood, was unexpected though. Lambert had been prepared to fight a monster, but his drawn sword prooved to be rather counterproductive when it was noticed by big brown baby eyes that immediately turned teary at the sight of danger. The loud crying that followed strangled Lambert's heart painfully.

"Oh, no, no, no! Please don't cry, I don't know what to do, when you cry!" Panicking, Lambert did the only thing that came to his mind and he reached out to pick the tiny toddler up. The witcher looked helplessly around the room, as if any of the artefacts could provide him with the secret knowledge of childcare. Eskel didn't stop crying.

"Uh- Let's get you to Geralt, okay? You like Geralt right? You're best buds, he will know what to do."

Alarmed by the sounds of a crying child, Geralt was already halfway down the keep, when Lambert reached him. The - currnetly not - youngest wolf hastened his steps and practically shoved tiny Eskel into Geralt's arms. "Lambert, what on earth?" Adjusting his hold instinctively, Geralt started to rock the toddler in his arms, one hand gently petting the mop of unruly brown hair. "Uh- that's Eskel," Lambert managed to blurt out.

"Eskel?"

"He got cursed. Down in the dungeon. I didn't know what to do, not sure he recognized me." Geralt hummed. "If it truly is Eskel, then we might have a small problem."

"What, why?" Lambert's eyes darted down from Geralt's to look a the small figure sniffling in the witcher's arms. "He's was born up north," Geralt explained slowly, "didn't speak a word of common when he first got here. It took him years to learn." Lambert's mouth went dry.

What Geralt didn't seem to know was that Lambert could in fact speak most northern dialects. But what on earth could he possibly say to a tiny child he already managed to bring to tears seconds after meeting him? He took a shaking breath, "Går det bra med deg?"

Eskel's reaction was immediate. His little head snapped up from where he had been hiding it under Geralt's chin and he stared at Lambert with wide eyes. "Hva?"

"Går det bra?" Lambert repeated, trying his best to ignore Geralt's confused stare. Between snotty sniffles a small voice that sounded nothing like the Eskel they knew, the child answered. "Ja, bra."

Lambert let out a sigh of relief. "He says he's alright, probably just got scared." Geralt's shoulders relaxed visibly. "Didn't know you speak northern."

"Wasn't exactly needed until now."

"Can you ask him, if he knows who we are? Does he recognize us at all?"

Lambert blinked at the other wolf. Angry, at himself, for not thinking about asking such an important question. He focused his gaze back at Eskel. "Vet du hvem jeg er?" A wide, toothy grin spread across Eskel's little face. His chubby little finger pointed straight at Lambert and he exclaimed proudly, "Ulv! Rød ulv!" The action was quickly followed by a similarly enthusiastic pointing, this time at Geralt, "Hvit Ulven!"

Lambert chuckled. "I think he'll be alright."