#logic is muddy

[ahb-writes]

Writing Problem: The Character Logic Is Muddy

Problem: The Character Logic Is Muddy

Solution: Investing in realistic characterization will give a novel the curious details and sense of familiarity readers will readily absorb. Good character logic means providing original characters with the agency to speak, act, and react with authority. (It also doesn't hurt to have a character or two who are really good at faking it.) But it's not enough to simply imply a character's sense of self through dialogue and action. Writers should aim for a level deeper.

Don't write characters, write character arcs. Don't write character flaws, write character flaws that make characters curious, enticing, or attractive. Craft inimitable dialogue, encourage characters to engage their environment, and remember to hold characters responsible for their actions.

Writing Resources:

3 Redemptive Character Types (September C. Fawkes)

6 Ways to Write Truly Terrifying Villains (The Novel Smithy)

What Is Pathos in Literature? A Complete Guide (Jericho Writers)

Character Motivation Thesaurus (One Stop for Writers)

"I don't think you need all the backstory in the world..." (advice from Brennan Lee Mulligan, TTRPG gamemaster; ahbwrites)

How to Improve Your Secondary Characters: 6 Fresh Ideas (Em Dash Press)

Some Quick Character Tips (Coffee Bean Writing)

The Importance of The Unlikable Heroine (Claire Legrand; ahbwrites)

Don't Design a Character, Design a Character Arc (avalera; ahbwrites)

How to Write Character Arcs (Helping Writers Become Authors)

❯ ❯ Adapted from the writing masterpost series: 19 Things That Are Wrong With Your Novel (and How to Fix Them)

[to-boldly-escape]

Deviation from standard uniform protocol

As said before…I came to tumblr because I wanted to draw space men in crop tops ✨

Spock’s momentary lapse…under the cut

nonchalant acceptance? dry humour?…or maybe he'd just stand there with a raised eyebrow or a subtle quirk on his lips.

[calypsolemon]

i know I've spoken on this extensively before but it's still so funny to me when ppl point out harumi blaming lloyd illogically for her parents death instead of pythor or whatever as if it's like an actual plothole of her character. If she was "logical" she wouldn't be a crazy evil bitch ok <3

[woodfrogs]

ive recently been having a lot of thoughts on politics and science and social media and the intersections of & interactions between the three

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

see i think he has a point

zack: ma, i can't POSSIBLY go to school today, i've got a FEVER zack's mom i guess: hhaha, very funny zack

[baekuras]

Being awake cancelled, my thoughts going "Man, isn't it crazy how rarely Rand had to get physical with Asmodean? It really was only the Rhuidean fight and then the first push of boundaries with the floating over wineglass (and trying to overjustify it of course. Especially funny with how the wise ones despite all their humiliation and tactics don't have a grip on Egwene. Or all the Aes Sedai "teachings" via switching and whatnot but well-"

My brain: "Man isn't it crazy how Rand has literally been less physical and overall abusive to a Forsaken-his sworn enemy- than your own mother has been to you?

brain is cancelled-this could have just been some fun thinking about both the style of writing/storytelling and also just how Rand deals with things (for now) while acknowleding the wildley different dynamics going on, but no, had to go for my own throat here hUH

[7fff00]

frustrated with my own social maladroitness today on multiple counts, love this for me :/

[shilo-sumac]

i probably should have changed outta these ripped to heck clothes a few days ago but. idk. i dont want to

[shidoglazer]

sae itoshi and rin itoshi who don’t have a single ounce of fragile masculinity in them.

growing up with 2 brothers was disgustingly disgusting. they’d play in the dirt, kick around a muddy football, throw food at each other— it was sickening! so as their little and only sister, you were going to teach them how to be graceful!

and it worked. so by the time you all were teenagers, sae and rin has almost done everything that was named as “girly.” playing princess dress up, having tea parties, shopping sprees with you, having spa days, even learning how to do make up on themselves. it was basically the norm for them to do so. and when they’re confronted about it?

“so! the itoshi brothers, a legendary duo am i right?” the interviewer laughs by himself, while both of them look like they were dragged here against their will (basically were.) “anyways, lets cut to the chase yes? whats your input on the media calling you both out for being too feminine? spa days, make up, shopping sprees, those are all a little girly aren’t they?” both of them look at the interviewer with the same piercing glaze. sae responds first.

“its not ‘girly’ if you don’t have fragile masculinity. what’s wrong with taking care of my own body, emphasising my physical appearance and shopping?” sae speaks clearly, logically and without hesitation, while rin on the other hand.. “i can tell most men don’t do that. including you. go get a facial, your face can be used for japans source of oil, and after that you can go put on some foundation, to cover up those cystic pimples that have been clearly clogged with germs and bacteria, and about the shopping, are you too poor-” and the cameras immediately stop rolling.

[rebellum]

Yesterday evening i joked about how I skipped almost every single math class of grade 12 (I probably went to like 3 a month?) And then last night I . I forget where I was going with this because I wrote the side note below. Something about a bad math dream.

Side note that I'm writing before I forget it's kinda weird how we can say "last night" or "last wednesday" but not "last day." Or "yesternight". I think that should be a thing.

[obeymeluv]

Enchanting a Fae - Malleus x Reader

A random Malleus x Reader

Malleus isn't sure why he comes to your dorm so often. His booted feet take him there automatically, he supposes. If Lilia were to ask him, he's just making the rounds on his usual haunts and looking for pieces of forgotten grotesques and gargoyles in need of cleaning. Ramshackle was a prime destination for all things forgotten and dusty, after all.

Perhaps it can also be a home to things muddy and sopping.

A small smile twists the edges of Malleus' lips as he blinks rain from his emerald eyes. It's ironic that he, future King of Briar Valley and fifth most powerful mage in the world, was caught unaware by the weather.

How very human. It's a beautiful experience, to drown in the quiet hush of rain.

He steps lightly but with purpose, long shadow breezing up the walkway to your door. It swells as lightning tap-dances behind him. Thunder rumbles, much like the sound he tries to swallow down as you crack the door open hesitantly, face melting into one of welcome.

Oh, child of man...Malleus feels the warm swirl in his chest tighten as you take his hand and pull him inside. He ducks his head, finally remembering to pull his horns down enough so they don't scrape the frame like they have in the past.. "Fae are supposed to be invited in," he reminds you. "And I told you, you always have a standing invitation." you say with a gentle dismissiveness that both humbles and endears him. You continue to show him that you care not for his title or his princely demands. You treat him like all the others. He does his best to stand on the welcome mat you thrifted, afraid the water will rot the ancient floor and leave you with something else to fix. You scurry back with towels and some spare clothes that smell like human. Not you, but human. Malleus can't stop the angry rumble in his throat as he realizes that smell is probably from your human friends at Heartslabyul. Clothes for other men? Disgusting. You always forget he has another set of vocal chords and he excuses the noise as 'clearing his throat'. "It's all I have," you murmur, unsure now if you should take the offer back. He can tell you're still debating that uncouth noise, the slip of the tongue.

"I accept your generosity." Malleus knows it won't be a perfect fit, but it would do better than your clothes. Not that he didn't like the idea of adorning himself in your scent. Turning away from you a little, Malleus removes the purple striped belt at his waist and undoes the many gold buttons on his curious coat. You can't tell what the black shirt is underneath but it sticks to him and you find yourself trying to tear your eyes away and commit him to memory all at once.

Not in the creepy way! Just in the 'I've never seen Malleus in just gloves, a shirt, pants, and boots before' kind of way. He's none the wiser, realizing he has a real problem on his hands. The gloves he chose are water resistant but they've somehow gone flush against his slick skin and feel more like a seal than a savior. His draconian nails cannot save him, blunted and useless in the leather. Should he use his teeth? What if he hooked them on the edge of a horn and just shimmied it off? You can practically read his mind and grab his hand before he can raise it near his head. "Don't do that! You'll ruin them!" you give a huffy laugh at his simple, boyish logic and it takes every ounce of control from all his decades of walking upright to keep his tail from smashing a hole in your floor.

He watches you drape the loaner clothes around your neck like some sort of scarf as you motion for his hand.

Your hands are almost cartoonishly small in his as they trace the stitching and try to feel for any buttons or ridges. Small, but so considerate and so warm. Dragons run warm from the fire and magic in their blood but he cannot explain why your touch is absolutely radiating and searing him in the most comforting way through the leather. He almost hopes you never figure out how to take them off so you can just fiddle with his hands forever. Malleus relaxes into your touch, basking in the care and attention.

His hopes are dashed when the glove separates slightly from his lax wrist and you free his hand. You pull off the other one. If he had no shame, he'd make a cool request for you to hold them and warm them. "Boots off, then change." you give him a small rag for his hands and point to his feet. Delighted and somewhat surprised to be your willing subject, Malleus obeys and starts to take off his boots.

He braces himself against your wall with one hand, mindful not to put himself through it like he almost did the mine tunnel at Beanfest. One boot off, he wrestles blindly with the other. Malleus is much more interested in how you tend to the pitiful fire in your fireplace. Your back is to him and whatever you're wearing leaves you shapeless but cozy. The embers crackle in the hearth, the light dancing across your face in a way that makes something baser claw at the pit of his stomach.

Shiny thing. Dragons like shiny things. You would be a most gorgeous shiny thing. Always ethereal, no matter what you're wearing or doing. If you would permit him, you would be his most valued treasure.

His heart sings at the thought, almost tying itself in a knot. That low, tingling feeling comes back to him and Malleus wants to croon his Dragon Song. It would fall on deaf ears, so to speak, as you have no dragon blood to appeal to. "Your eyes are doing that thing again." Malleus flinched a little, green fire sparking in his mouth as a warning puff of smoke dissipated between you. He didn't realize you'd come upon him again. The dragon relaxed, turning his head away as he exhaled the building smoke through his nose before it could send him into an undignified coughing fit.

Lilia had been consulting his grandmother on some behaviors as of late and both arrived to the same conclusion: he's experiencing draconian puberty. 'The thing' his eyes do are a sign of said puberty. It is the unfurling of all his emotions, the dilation of his eyes signaling his interest and trying to draw you ever deeper to him. In a way, it is a thrall, but it leaves him at your mercy as much as it should leave you in his.

Somehow, you don't take it as hard. If his world wasn't a sudden explosion of the scent of your skin and soap, the heat of your body, and the curious fondness with which you look at him, he would ponder this injustice further.

But he does not. Right now he can't even find the words for a simple lie, a diversion, as he breathes in the smell of you and tries not to melt. To have you touch him right now would be the worst thing but he's never wanted it more. He wants so badly to sink his fangs into your wrist, your neck, and let you wear the affectionate bruises like a family crest. His family crest.

"You're supposed to be getting changed," you admonish him.

"Mmm, but I can't," Malleus refrains from snuggling into the small towel you're blotting against his face. He closes his eyes and tries to sense the heat of your hand through the fabric as you move carefully around his lashes. "I'm being tended to and it would be rude to interrupt," he teases.

"No point in giving you dry clothes if you're going to get them wet putting them on." you laugh. He swallows thickly as you brush his throat dry. "Now go change," you swat him with the rag. Body towel and clothes in one hand, damp footprints follow Malleus to a spare room.

As he suspected, the clothes were ill-fit for his frame. Spade and Trappola were smaller than he was, being human and all. It was another thing entirely to get the shirt over his head without shredding it on his horns. He's afraid to move his arms too much and hopes he's not offending you by pulling the pants low enough to give his tail room. You've just finished laying his clothes out on dry towels before the fire and he's grateful.

It is a dying fire. You have a small supply of kindling and old papers to feed it but he doesn't think it will be enough. "I would like to repay your generosity with a gift. May I?" "You know you don't have to get me anything," you wave him off. He's not sure if it's a human trait or a you trait but you don't take easily to gifts.

"But it is practical and will serve us both," he knows he's caught your attention. He can see you trying to figure out what kind of gift that would be. Malleus approaches the fire, kneels down, and breathes it in. Dragons who can breathe fire, like himself, can convert outside sources of heat to their fire on rare occasions. You jump when he spits out a green flame and it roars to life, casting the walls in jeweled light and emitting a heat you didn't know you missed.

"Cozy!" you chirp. It was a gentle kind of heat that would be perfect for snuggling under a blanket. He sits on the other end of the sofa, a respectful cushion between you, and rests his head on a hand as he looks at you.

"And it will last much longer! You needn't fret about it getting out of control, either. It is my fire, and I can control it." he sees the beginning of sleep on you. Malleus grew up with Silver and was all too familiar with the slow descent into a nap. You make a valiant effort, he will give you that. You're in the middle of a soft argument about being rude to company and Malleus laughs despite himself.

He dropped in uninvited. Certainly that's more rude, yes?

The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, the fae more amused than he has been in a long time as your eyes get heavier. You look stunning in the green glow and he can't help but think you'd look just as ravishing in black.

In a crown. On a throne. In his bed. All of these things have the Dragon Song welling up in him again. The buzzing in his chest closes off his ears; Malleus jumps to alertness as you tug gently on the ends of his dark hair. "You let your hair down. It'll get weird if it dries in a ponytail holder."

It takes some effort, but he untangles it from his hair. "What shall I do about you, Child of Man?" he muses. "I will be forever indebted to your attentiveness."

"Did you find anything cool on your walk? You always show me." your eyes twinkle with the vestiges of consciousness. This is your one final push before succumbing to sleep, he can tell. He did, in fact, find things to show you and had forgotten them until now. When you're drenched, everything just feels heavy and soaked through. Malleus fishes the random items from his coat pocket and settles back down on the couch.

You've seen all manner of things at this point--feathers, polished rocks, twisted roots that looked interesting, pieces of statues, actual gems--and it never gets old. He presents you with a rock carved into the shape of a bear, a chunk of what might have been an old cup, and a ring.

The ring doesn't catch your eye right away. You're too busy playing with the bear. He wiggles his hand so the firelight catches it and you still. Malleus takes the bear from you, flipping your hand over to slide it on your finger. "A gift, my dearest."

"Malleus, I--" you start to protest.

"We fae are no strangers to offerings, both giving and receiving. It would be a disservice to present you with anything less." he speaks over you, his words gentle but commanding. He kisses your hand.

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought of dating him. It just seemed a little silly--a random no-name person and the fae prince? What kind of cliche was this?

A handsome one that was staring you right in the face.

"If you'd like more, the best I can offer you is a kingdom." he teases, lounging back against the sofa. He said it so casually that it caught you off guard. You're face is almost unbearably hot and Malleus chuckles.

"A whole kingdom?" you finally recover. "I'll take it."

Oh, there it went. Malleus felt the trap snap shut on his heart. This was the lethal moment Lilia warned him. He was helplessly smitten and enchanted. Irreversibly so.

"Truly?" he's before you in a second, one hand around your waist and the other holding the one with the ring. "Now is not the time to jest, Child of Man. I offer you my heart in earnest and the reply must be just as true!" he's staring up at you through his bangs and you swear you see more scales on his forehead.

"W-Well, yeah," you stutter. "I wouldn't mind. Just kind of thought we would do more dates and stuff first," your face was heating up again.

"We shall, as many as you like!" he's scooped you up in one arm, cradling you to his chest. You threw your legs around him so you didn't fall backwards but he doesn't notice, pulling your other hand over his shoulder. "Every day, even! As soon as the weather clears, in fact!" "But it'll be dark out!" you protest. Malleus probably could change the weather if he wanted but that wouldn't stop the ground from squelching and things being nasty. He stopped excitedly rambling about walks and things to do.

"We've walked in the dark before?" he doesn't understand why you don't want to go out this particular time. "And I have seen you to your door, safe and sound every time."

"But we're already here. Together. Inside." you explain slowly. "Maybe we could...cuddle...a little."

Oh yes. Splendid idea! Malleus all but dives for the couch at the suggestion. It is a paltry nest but it's yours. You're still recovering from the recoil, glad he fell back first and didn't squish you.

Did you just hear something rip? You hope he didn't break the couch. You don't get much time to think about it as he pulls you close and tucks you under his chin like he's been rehearsing it with a pillow. He's just the right combination of soft and muscle, of guard and gentle as he figures out where to put his hands. He settles for one supporting his head and the other cradling yours.

It's very awkward because he's mostly off the couch but he can't be bothered. You're slowly drifting to sleep in his arms and he's never felt more joy. He watches with deep interested, practically holding his breath as you sleep. Faes don't need as much sleep as humans but he doesn't think he could sleep if he tried because you've been courted by him!

Malleus is roused by his phone sometime later. The couch is small and cumbersome to him but it's held up. He begrudgingly untangled himself from you to answer it, long arm just reaching it on the table.

"Yes?"

It's Lilia. "Where are you, young man? We've been trying to reach you!"

He had fifteen missed calls from Sebek, eight from Lilia, and some text messages from Silver.

"Ensnared, I fear." Malleus smiles into the crown of your head. "I'm doomed to languish in absolute bliss. It's a very powerful enchantment, you see."

"Taken the leap, have you, Malleus?" he could hear the smile in Lilia's voice.

"I have, and I've landed in something quite wonderful."

"We fae are supposed to trick and trap, not the other way around! But...at least you're safe. Make it known that I will not tolerate--"

"Any eggs before marriage." Malleus rolled his eyes. He'd only heard that a million times recently.

"If you're not back at Diasomnia in two hours, I'll break that enchantment myself. Understood?"

"And if I object?" Malleus challenged, patting your head as you began to move.

There was a moment of silence. "I shall tell your grandmother."

Malleus hung up.

That might do the trick, he thought, brows raised. His grandmother was from an older generation of fae who were still entrenched in anti-human beliefs. Would she love you because he did? Could you enchant her, too? One look at your sleeping face, so at peace and pressed up against him, had him convinced.

Yes, he was pretty sure you could enchant any fae. It certainly worked on him.

[creati-bunny]

TRAFALGAR LAW BECOMES A MESS WHENEVER LUFFY’S OLDER SISTER IS MENTIONED. The awkward, clumsy side of him clicks inside his brain, making him a fool in front of you and his crew—which they tease him for; their cool and composed captain becomes a muddy lovey-puddle whenever you use your brain, fight, or even just breathe. It was so out of character of him that it makes him cringe that a woman becomes a distraction for him.

Your eyes do behold magic that even makes Law’s brain stop working. Your beauty cannot even be compared to the other female members of your crew; it was like the blessing of looking like a goddess had been graced upon you ever since you were born. That damn fluttering eyelashes of yours and the alluring glimmer it bestows towards him did so much wonders for his body; it practically makes him give in to whatever you ask for; he was like a teenage boy with uncontrollable hormones.

“Law, please stop drooling over me.”

Law scoffs.

“You think too highly of yourself,” His fingers were itching to wipe off the imaginary drool from his lips, almost believing you. He racked his brain to change the topic, not wanting you to notice anymore how you are already torturing him. “Where was the copy of the plan that I asked you to make?”

With a rolled-up paper in your palm, your hand brushes over his when you hand over the paper; your eyes did not miss the way that a slight touch emits quite a reaction from the captain. You were feeling bold enough to trace his tattoos on his fingers; Law’s body temperature is skyrocketing off the roof.

You wear a suave smile, seeing the blush rising up to his ears. “You are too adorable when you’re flustered.”

Law screamed inside at your teasing expression, not wanting to do anything but shut your mouth. He rolled his eyes and acting nonchalant, wanting to escape you before he does something he would regret. The line between his logical thinking and the pleasure of desires was thinning.

“Oh? No comeback this time?”

Law shivers when he feels your breathy whisper in his ears, making him glance at you with widened eyes and immediately back away. “Y-You—!”

You laugh and feel gleeful at his demeanour.

“Smart, strong, logical, handsome, and adorable—women must fall for you a lot, don’t they? Your crew is lucky to have such a fine man like you.”

You complimented him with such sincerity, it did not help the quick-beating heart of his. He thought you were only fucking with him, and shit, you are too damn close! He could smell your cologne when you leaned towards him, as if you knew what you were doing to him; he muffled a groan when heat spread over his body, the tingles brush over his nerves, his attraction towards you was too strong—you are aware of how much he wants you.

The embodiment of his hunger.

Just one kiss and his heart will burst; his hormones will rage and send signals to his brain that you are the one for him; that the object of his desires should play a part in bringing out the fire within him. Law’s eyes glint with desperation and need, wanting you to make the first move and unravel every piece of him.

You are going to be the death of Law, one day.

image is by @xuchuan25 on X

I ONLY WRITE FOR FUN. I DO NOT INTEND TO REWRITE THE PERSONALITY OF THE CHARACTERS AND CLAIM THEM AS CANON. I AM AWARE OF THE COMPLEXITY OF THE CHARACTERS PRESENTED.

[lilianade-comics]

My brain, loving and appreciating narrative parallels and themes: Danny and Vlad are perfect foils AND they have BEAUTIFUL generational parallels through their respective trios. In a more narratively coherent version of DP, this should be explored to its fullest potential. This logically means that Danielle should not exist so as not to distract from or muddy the waters of the prime dynamic.

Also my brain, 24/7 with no chill whatsoever:

cheese melt go brrrrrrrrrr

[fizzyapplecandy]

The one with the alpha and his little lamb Part 2

Part 1

Ateez Yunho x Fem Reader

Genres and warnings: werewolf imagine, soulmates, fluff, mature scenes, some blood in this chapter (nothing major), light smut, self pleasuring, kisses, happy ending

Word count: 3.4k

Yunho has occupied your thoughts more than you expected, so you set out into the woods to find him again. The night ends better than you could've expected.

Special tag: @seonghwasslytherin

Y/N thought her life would be as regular and boring as it gets. She had a nice job, a steady income, and a nice apartment. The only thing she needed was a quiet, polite man by her side. They'd spend at least two years together before getting engaged, then married. Kids would come next, along with a small house in the suburbs.

When she entered her place that night, she realized she would have none of that.

Her back was still leaning against the front door, eyes wide in shock. She did not just see a wolf turn into a man and proclaim his utter devotion towards her. There was no chance in hell. Was she hallucinating?

For some odd reason, she couldn't get that man's face, and body, out of her head. He was gorgeous, that much was true, and she couldn't believe he wanted her.

For most of her life, she thought she was a plain Jane. She didn't have any special skills, any interesting hobbies, she looked average by any standards.

Yunho didn't seem to think that way.

Finally deciding to detach herself from the door, she made her way to the bathroom to take a relaxing shower. She needed to get the stress of the day washed off of her.

Without realising, images of Yunho and his sturdy chest came into her head. There was a warm feeling in her chest, and somewhere else. The effect he had on her after one interaction surprised her. Maybe it was due to that bond he was talking about? If everything he was saying was indeed true, that meant they were connected, right? Maybe he could feel everything she was feeling.

Deciding to rest the theory out, she slowly moved her hand between her legs. Her pussy was already throbbing, and her light touch made her shiver. Instead of her hand, she imagined a larger one taking its place.

Her breathing was getting more shallow, eyes closing as she leaned against the shower wall.

Something was going on inside her head. It was as if she could hear a voice, quiet, but equally as excited.

On the other side of town, right by the forest edge, Yunho laid in his bed. His hand was in his pants, feeling his mate's desire from far away. Bless the mate bond, and their connection, because he could feel every emotion Y/N was feeling.

His mate's hands were exploring her body, it seemed, coming down to the place Yunho craved the most. Her desire was getting stronger by the second, and he took pride in being the one to cause it. She wanted him, and he almost cried with joy.

Yunho grasped his length in his hand, squeezing hard and imagining a much smaller hand wrapped around him.

Both of them were at it, their desire going over the roof. Before they knew it, they were cumming at the same time. Y/N slid down the shower wall, and Yunho's limbs fell numb onto the bed.

There wasn't an ounce of shame in Y/N's mind, and she thoroughly enjoyed herself. She hoped Yunho was feeling the same.

The alpha fell asleep that night with the image of his gorgeous mate in his head. He was sure his dreams would be the same.

.

.

"This is ridiculous."

Y/N muttered to herself as she dragged her feet on the muddy forest path. It rained overnight, so the terrain was more difficult to walk through than usual.

She made up her mind the morning after her little performance in the shower. Her whole night was filled with dreams of a tall, sweet werewolf, and she had to know how this was going to go. The problem was, she didn't know anything about Yunho, besides his name.

Logically, she went into the woods in hopes of finding him, but was proving to be more difficult than she expected. He wasn't anywhere in sight, and she was already walking deeper into the tall trees than ever.

"Yunho! Can you hear me? It's Y/N!" She shouted, hoping he would somehow find her. It was starting to get cold, and she only had a thin sweatshirt on.

"Hello? Yunho, I'm about to get hypothermia!"

Still nothing. No rustle in the leaves, no growl or whimper.

"Yun- Oh."

"Hi there."

There was a tall man in front of her, probably as tall as Yunho, and he had a big grin on his face.

"Hello?" You said back, a bit apprehensive.

"I'm Mingi, Yunho's... Friend. I was patrolling around when I heard your call. I'm sorry, but Yunho isn't back in town yet."

"Oh..." Mingi noticed how your expression fell. You were really excited to see his best friend, so he had to do something to help.

"Hey, you know what?" Your head snapped towards him again.

"What?"

"Why don't you come with me to the pack house? You can wait for him there!"

While Mingi's offer was tempting, you just met Yunho yesterday, and the man in front of you was a stranger as well. For some reason, your instinct told you he was harmless, so you just nodded.

"Great! Follow me, Miss Luna."

"My name isn't Luna."

Mingi shook his head, realizing what he said.

"Sorry, I meant Y/N."

"You know my name?"

The man smiled. "It's tough to forget because Yunho hasn't stopped talking about you since yesterday."

You were certain your cheeks were warm.

"He... Talked about me?"

Mingi nodded, putting his hands in his pockets. He was navigating through the greenery like it was second nature to him. You suppose it was.

"Hey... Are you... The same as Yunho?"

"Yes I am. Maybe not as powerful, but we're of the same kind." He answered.

You were about to ask something else regarding his nature, but a shiver interrupted you. It was now too cold to be outside, and you cursed yourself for being careless.

"Oh, are you cold? Here, take this." He took off his zip up and handed it to you.

"No, no! What about you?"

He smiled, throwing the jacket over your shoulders.

"I'm a werewolf sweetie. We don't get cold."

The rest of the way was spent in light chatter. He asked you where you were from, what you did for a living, and how you ended up in the woods yesterday. For some reason, you felt like he was trustworthy, so you answered all of the questions truthfully. Before long, a large house came into your view.

"This is our pack house. I'll apologise in advance about the ruckus inside, so be prepared. Yunho isn't back yet, I can't sense him, so you'll have to wait."

You were about to ask him to clarify when you heard a loud scream coming from the house. Mingi only sighed, not looking worried at all. As you entered the front door, you realised what he meant by ruckus.

There was a man with longer hair thrown in a ponytail standing on one of the tables, holding a piece of chicken. Another man was trying to grab his leg to get him down.

"For the love of God Wooyoung, give it back!"

"No way! You ate a whole bucket Sangie, this one is mine!"

"Give it!"

"No!"

"Wow... I see it now."

Your voice made the men freeze, turning their head in your direction. The one on the table grinned.

"Oooh I know who this is! Mingi, are you sure your clothes should be on her?"

"The poor girl was freezing, it's not a big deal Wooyoung."

Ponytail man, Wooyoung, jumped down from the table, the piece of chicken still in his hand. The other man tried to grab it from him again, but Wooyoung was too fast.

"Okay, that's it. Give me the chicken back!"

Before you knew it, the boys were running around the table, exiting through the back glass doors. They were sprinting towards the forest when they suddenly shifted into wolves. The rusted one chased after the gray, and they disappeared into the night. You turned towards Mingi.

"Do they do this a lot?"

"What exactly?"

"Fight over chicken?"

He laughed, nodding. "Yeah, they do. We're used to it."

You wanted to ask him something else about the boys, but the front door opening interrupted you.

"Y/N?"

You turned around, seeing Yunho leaning against the frame.

What took your attention was the deep gash going over his ribs, profusely bleeding onto the wooden floor.

"Oh my God!" Mingi and you rushed towards him, the man throwing Yunho's arm over his shoulder trying to help him stand.

"What the hell happened man?!"

You felt helpless, staring at the man who had occupied your thoughts for the whole day.

"Ahh this thing... Ran into some rouges. Didn't end well, for them at least."

Mingi walked him over to the couch, crouching down to inspect the wound.

"Why aren't you healing?" He asked, panic clear on his face.

Yunho took a shaky breath. "I am. It's just really slow. He got me deeper than I thought." His head turned towards you, a small smile appearing through the pain.

"How did you get here, love?"

You walked over, sitting next to him.

"I came to the woods to find you, but Mingi found me instead. He brought me here." You looked into his eyes, feeling shy all of the sudden.

"I... I wanted to see you again."

Yunho lifted his hand, lightly touching your cheek. You noticed his bloody fingers, but you didn't want to ruin the moment.

"I wanted to see you too." He stopped, sniffing the air.

"Mingi. Why is your scent all over my mate?" His words were strong, and you haven't heard him speak in this way to you. Mingi froze, standing up abruptly.

"S-She was cold. I gave her my jacket. Sorry Alpha, I won't do it again."

Yunho didn't say a word, retreating his hand from you and leaning his head against the back of the couch. He was tired, aching and he didn't need to worry about you as well. He knew it was silly, but his instinct took over. After calming himself down, he waved Mingi off.

"It's fine. Relax, Mingi. You can go now, I can take care of myself."

Mingi wanted to argue with him, but he knew there was no point. You were here as well, so you'd take care of his friend. He nodded at Yunho, giving you a shy smile before disappearing from the living room.

You were now alone with a bleeding man, but it looked like the wound was slowly closing.

"Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you need to get that checked out?"

Yunho almost swooned at your concerned voice. He straightened up as much as he could, glancing down at his ribs.

"Don't worry, little lamb. It'll heal on its own. This is not my first rodeo. I'm glad you're here though, makes it more bearable."

You blushed, realizing how undressed he was. At least he had some shorts on, this time. Yunho tried to push himself to stand up, and you could see he was struggling.

"Let me help you, please." You took his hands in yours, standing up to give him a little pull. He was too tall and bulky for you, but you could give it a try. He smiled, happy to be with you in such a vulnerable moment. That reminded him, you said you wanted to see him.

"Hey Y/N... Why did you want to see me?" He whispered, now on his feet holding onto you.

"Well... I wanted to talk about yesterday. I kind of... Can't stop thinking about you. It's weird, but not in a bad way."

"I can't stop thinking about you, either. Come, let's go to my room, I need to get cleaned up."

You nodded, gripping his hands and helping him get in the stairs.

"The others aren't here right now, except for Mingi. We have to stay here, there's no way I can make it to our house in this state. I hope that's okay?"

You were confused. "Our house?"

He smiled. "Yes, I told you yesterday. I have my own home not far from here. What's mine is yours now, Y/N."

You were too concerned about his bleeding wound to question what he meant, but you'd get back to it when he felt better.

"It's no big deal, as long as you're comfortable. Do you need me to bring you anything? I'm sure I could find my way around."

"No, it's fine. I have everything I need in my room. All of us have an emergency kit to patch ourselves up. Maybe I'll need you to kiss it better, I heard it helps."

Despite his state, he managed to joke around with you. For some reason, you wouldn't be opposed to taking him up on the offer.

"Yeah, dream about it boy. No kisses for you until you get better."

"So, I'll still get them? We need to get me in shape right this second!"

He sped up, and you could barely keep up with him.

"Yunho! Slow down, you're hurt!"

"Don't care, come on!"

He opened the door at the end of the hallway, stepping inside with you before closing it.

His room was pretty simple, but you knew now it was a temporary residence for him.

"You sit on the bed, I'm gonna go clean myself up. You're free to roam around." He took a towel from the closet, entering the little bathroom attached to his room. The door closed, and you were left in silence. You heard the shower turn on after a few minutes, so you stood up and went towards the window. The forest was illuminated by the moon, and it looked like it was twinkling. You heard Mingi mentioning something about a Moon Goddess on your walk to the house, but you didn't quite understand. Maybe Yunho could explain it better after he settled down.

There were many thoughts going on in your head, the main one being this weird connection you had with the tall man currently in the shower.

You never experienced an attraction like this in your life. Boys came and went, but Yunho made it clear he was there to stay.

The shower turned off, and you remembered what you did the night before. Now was not the time to be thinking about it, especially with him hurt. It was inevitable, the attraction you felt towards him. He was about to make it a lot stronger.

The door opened, and he stepped out with a towel wrapped around his waist. The wound seemed closed, no blood in sight. His chest glistened, not entirely dry, and water dripped from his hair.

He looked positively delicious.

"Sorry I took so long, I got kind of lost in my... Throughs."

Without realising, you took a couple steps closer to him.

"What kind of... Throughs?"

Yunho heard your heat beating a bit faster than before, and he knew his appearance was affecting you. It made him feel proud.

"Well... I don't know if I should tell you."

The two of you gravitated towards each other, now only inches away. He placed his big hand on your cheek again, caressing it lightly. His touch sent shivers down your spine. The atmosphere in the room changed in a second.

"Maybe I had the same kind of thoughts yesterday?"

His eyes widened, his hand coming down to wrap around your waist. He lowered his head to whisper in your ear.

"You're making it really tough to stay a gentleman, baby. I don't want to rush into... Things."

You shivered again, this time nor from the cold.

"I get it, I really do. But maybe we can... Give us a little sneak peak, you know? See how it could go."

Yunho grinned, his other hand going into your hair.

"Little lamb... If I start something now, I won't be able to stop. I don't want to ruin this."

You grazed your hand over his ribs, going over the closed wound. The skin was still raised a bit, but it seemed like it was smoothing itself.

He inhaled sharply, his grip on your hair tightening. You almost moaned, but managed to keep it together.

"I see you're all healed up."

"That I am."

"I remember mentioning something about a... Kiss."

He lowered his forehead to yours.

"I remember it, too."

"So..."

"So?"

The two of you stayed silent, looking into each other's eyes. The pull was instant. Before you knew it, his lips were firmly planted on yours.

You know how people talk about butterflies and sparks when they kiss someone they deeply desire? Well, this was like a firework going off. Yunho was passionate, holding onto your waist with both hands now. He tried pulling you as close as possible, and you felt every inch of his sturdy body. Your hands explored his torso, making their way around his neck.

The kiss was steamy, to say the least. Your lips were made for each other, tongues exploring each other's mouth. There was no time to breathe, and you were starting to get light headed. He must have noticed, because he pulled away from you.

You were both breathing hard, his eyes sharp and focused on your body language.

You detangled yourself from him, placing a hand over your heart. He was afraid of your reaction, but your words made him loosen up.

"Give me a second... Or a hundred. That was... Wow."

"Yeah, wow."

Your eyes met, and you both chuckled.

"Go lay on the bed, I'll go put some clothes on and then we can talk."

You nodded, too stunned to speak again. That was probably the best kiss you ever had in your life.

Yunho went into the closet while you made yourself comfortable under the sheets. You took off Mingi's jacket, glad you opted for a pair of leggings and a sweater when you left the house. It was a comfortable outfit to lounge around in.

He came out in sweatpants, nothing else.

"Now that's not fair. You're too hot to sit around like that."

Yunho smiled, getting into the sheets beside you. Your bodies gravitated towards one another, and you were now tangled up. Your head was on his chest, his arms firmly around you.

"You know Y/N... I always imagined what my mate would be like. But you... You are more than I could ever dream of."

"Oh stop it. I'm nothing special."

He moved away to look at your face, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"You are. The Moon Goddess wouldn't have paired us otherwise. There's still so much we need to learn about each other, but I honestly can't wait for it. I still have to take you out on a date."

You smiled, poking his chest.

"What? You don't think coming home all beat up, and making me patch you up isn't a date?"

Yunho laughed, tightening his arms around you, hugging you to his chest.

"My baby's a jokester, isn't she?"

The night was spent like that, all cuddled up in Yunho's arms, talking about anything and everything. The conversation flowed naturally, and you were surprised how easy it was to talk to him. When the topic of mates came up, Yunho turned serious.

"I know this must be a lot for you, but I'm willing to take it as slow as I can. I want to be with you, Y/N. I want you to want me, naturally. The bond makes you feel things, but you're human so it isn't as intense. We can go at your pace."

Your heart clenched, surprised at how considerate he was.

"Yunho... As crazy as this sounds, I want this too. I haven't felt something like this, ever. I want to explore it, I want to explore you."

He leaned down and kissed you again, your lips moving together like they knew each other forever. You questioned if the fireworks would be this intense all the time, but you weren't complaining.

You didn't go home that night, opting to spend it in Yunho's secure arms. Kisses and whispers continued until the early hours of the morning, and you fell asleep with a giant smile on your face.

Yunho's nature was different, but you were ready to accept it completely. So what if your boyfriend was a werewolf? That's what made him special.

As you went into dreamland, it was full of images of your future with the boy fast asleep next to you.

His arms never let go of you, and for the first time in your life you felt like you were special as well.

.

.

[gf2bellamy]

how do you think dad spencer would deal with all his hygiene phobias with a kid ?? personally picturing him putting on a brave face and telling himself its fine when his daughter pulls on her rain boots and asks him to jump in muddy puddles with her (but internally hes freaking out and planning to spend like 2 hours in the shower afterwards)

this kind of turned into a drabble. i love girldad!spencer too much

spencer definitely puts on a brave face.

that’s his instinct especially around his daughter. and he knows, logically, that dirt isn’t always dangerous. he knows germs are part of life.

but none of that knowledge prepares him for the moment his daughter tugs on his hand and points with excitement at a huge puddle on the sidewalk.

“daddy, let’s jump!”

his brain short-circuits. bacteria. parasites. the idea of her catching a cold. he bites the inside of his cheek, hard and takes a breath. at first, his concern is completely about her. he kneels down, trying to redirect.

“hey, honey, look over there. that’s a robin’s nest, see the bird?”

but she’s not even looking. her eyes are still locked on that brown puddle. he hesitates, then sighs and lets go of her hand.

“okay. just be careful,” he manages.

she squeals in delight and jump into the puddle. spencer flinches when a drop of muddy water lands directly on his pants. he tries not to show it. smiles through clenched teeth.

his stomach is doing somersaults, but her laughter is worth it. she’s happy. she’s safe. that’s what matters.

but then she turns. “daddy, come on! jump with me!”

his heart actually stops. “oh, uh—no, that’s okay, you go ahead, i'm just gonna watch—”

“daddy,” she says again, tugging at his hand, bottom lip poking out in a pout that’s both manipulative and completely innocent. she's stubborn just like him.

he swallows hard. internally he’s screaming. crying. calculating the bacteria count per square inch of street water.

but she’s smiling at him like he hung the moon. so he steps forward.

one boot, then the other, and then he jumps. a weak little hop, barely a splash. but it counts. she laughs so hard she almost falls over.

she grabs his hand and demands they do it again. and again. and again.

and for a while his daughter's giggles drown out the panic. he still hates how wet his socks feel. still cringes every time the cold water soaks up higher on his pants.

but he’s laughing now, too. just a little.

by the time they get home, his daughter is yawning and dragging her boots. as soon as they walk inside and he sees the mud streaked across his legs, that’s when the reality slams back in.

“okay, bath time,” he says quickly, voice pitched high. “for me. i mean.”

before you can even ask him if he had fun, he’s gone, practically sprinting to the bathroom, peeling off clothes on the way. you call after him, but all you get is a shouted, “i’m okay! i’m okay!” followed by the sound of the shower on full blast.

you blink, confused until you look down and see the trail of wet footprints and two soaked, dirty boots. your daughter is grinning up at you, soaked from the knees down, her curls frizzy from the rain.

“what did you do to daddy?” you ask, laughing softly as you kneel to unzip her coat.

“he jumped in the puddles with me,” she says proudly. “he was so good at it!”

you smile, heart warm. “i’m sure he was.”

meanwhile, in the bathroom, spencer is scrubbing like a man possessed. there are three different soaps in rotation. he’s mentally cataloging every spot where water hit him.there’s a little voice in his head whispering that he’ll probably need to disinfect his shoes and maybe even the doorknob.

but underneath all the panic, there’s a flicker of joy.

because despite the dirt and the germs, he made his daughter laugh. and he’ll do it again tomorrow if she asks.

[phantomwithbreakfast]

DANNYMAY DAY 10: Family

Day 09 • Day 11

⟢ Did I know what to do with this prompt? Absolutely not. Thankfully, some amazing friends helped spark the idea—so huge thanks to them for the rescue! This was also the very first time I’ve ever drawn Maddie—so… that was a whole experience on its own, geeeez—(more under the cut)

Genre: Angst / Drama • TW/CW: Graphic Content — Violence — PTSD — Emotional Distress • Maddie’s POV • A moment after Scarred For Half A Life (my phic) • AU — OOC

The house was quiet again.

Too quiet.

No Jazz stomping up the stairs with textbooks cradled to her chest. No Danny thudding through the door with muddy sneakers and excuses. No laughter. No shouting. No heartbeat.

Just the whispers of a silent home that used to be full of life.

Jazz was away at college—pursuing her own future, a future Maddie once envisioned proudly for both of her children. And Danny… Danny was gone. Not gone as in missing. No. She knew where he was—out there, somewhere. Wandering. Existing. A ghost of the boy she once held in her arms.

The boy she cradled. The boy she once watched the stars with, his tiny hand wrapped in hers. The boy she whispered a future to—soft dreams beneath blanket forts and starlit ceilings. A life full of promise. Of hope. The boy she tried so desperately to save.

But it was no use.

She hadn’t saved him.

Now all that remained was silence. And the echo of everything she’d lost.

Maddie sat on the edge of the couch, back straight, hands folded politely in her lap. In her palms, she held the photograph frame that always sat on the coffee table. It was old now—edges chipped, the silver rim dulled. But the image was still crystal clear.

Her boy. Her Danny.

She studied his face, her gloved thumb brushing over the glass in a delicate motion. A mother’s caress—sterile, careful, as if even through the photo, he might vanish at her touch.

How had it come to this?

How had the sweet, smiling child in the frame become the thing that stood in front of her in the lab that day—wild-eyed, screaming, burning with ectoplasmic rage?

How had Phantom infected him so deeply? So thoroughly that Danny couldn’t see the truth anymore?

No… that wasn’t fair. She knew the truth. Knew what had to be done. All her research, all her testing, the sleepless nights… they were for him. Only for him. For his safety. For humanity’s safety.

That’s what she‘d told herself. But buried under all the logic and justifications was something far less noble.

She just wanted her little boy back.

Her Danny. Her son. Hers.

Not some half-dead, ectoplasm-saturated anomaly with Phantom’s reverberating vocal frequency and those irradiated, bio-luminescent green eyes—unnaturally aged beyond the developmental stage of an eighteen-year-old.

Maddie exhaled sharply, the breath rattling through clenched teeth. Her hand trembled as it traced the curve of her little Danny’s cheek in the photo—just for a moment—but she forced it still. Composure was key. Logic was essential. Emotions clouded judgment. Still… the memory came unbidden.

That last conversation—if it could be called that. A confrontation. A breakdown. A rupture.

“Everything I’ve ever done for you! Every time I was there for you—it was all for nothing!” she’d screamed. She remembered the pitch of her own voice cracking.

And its reply—so calculated, so… cold, laced with a dangerously elevated cortisol spike in its tone. It wasn’t the neural cadence of her son. It was something else entirely. Something Phantom.

“You’re a fucking sick, narcissistic psycho! I wish you were dead! DEAD!” it had screamed, its voice reverberating with raw ectoplasmic resonance, each word slamming into her like a shockwave. Phantom—pinning her down, overpowering on the cold lab’s floor. There was no way out. No escape. Just its fury—heavy, suffocating and absolute.

The ghostly, green ectoplasmic blade had materialized before her cortex could fully register his words—a volatile construct forged from grief, rage, and betrayal. Ectoplasm manipulated at a molecular level, shaped not for defense, but as a precise instrument of hatred.

“I tried… to be your son. I tried… to be what you wanted. I tried to be enough for you,” it said—its voice trembling, brittle with long-suppressed emotion. She watched its hands shake, still gripping the ectoplasmic blade suspended above her body. The energy shimmered, unstable, reacting to his elevated stress levels and unstable core.

Ghosts don’t feel emotions. Ghosts don’t feel pain.

She repeated it like a mantra—over and over and over again, forcing the belief into every corner of her mind until it sounded like truth. Until it had to be the truth.

But… was it?

All those years of study. All those sleepless nights in the lab, dissecting ectoplasmic signatures, charting neural echoes, cataloging behaviors and anomalies. Mapping the so-called biology of something that shouldn’t exist. She’d convinced herself—convinced the world—that ghosts were nothing more than sentient patterns. Echoes. Constructs obsessed with an idea, not real people. No real emotion. No true pain. Just manipulation coded into their being. Just psychopathic mimicry—strategic, rehearsed. They didn’t feel, they performed. They adapted to get what they wanted.

And yet…

That voice. That blade. Those dispicable eyes.

That boy.

Was it all just Phantom’s performance?

Or… had she miscalculated the truth all along?

She should’ve felt fear. But all she could process in that moment was the devastating truth—

It—he still wanted to be loved. And she had failed him. She’d failed herself. Not as a scientist. Not as protector of humanity. But as a mother. She’d failed her son. And in doing so—she had failed herself. Completely. Irrevocably.

Before her neurons could even fire in response, before cognition caught up with reality—the blade dropped, piercing straight through her sternum. A precise, calculated strike. Not reckless. Not wild. Just deliberate. Cold. Controlled. As if it—he had been holding it in for years.

She could still feel it sometimes—phantom pain in the space just beside her heart.

“And it was… it was never enough. So fine. If I’m nothing to you, then you’re nothing to me,” it—he had said—his voice flat, final. Not shouted. Not screamed. Just spoken like a verdict.

The blade stayed lodged between her ribs, pulsing faintly with unstable ectoplasmic energy. Her lungs stuttered against the pressure—sharp, shallow gasps cathing in her throat. The tissue around her sturnum burned, the spreading cold, the biological confusion as her nervous system began to misfire. Each inhale felt tighter, narrower—like the air itself was rejecting her.

She was suffocating.

Everything blurred. And for a moment, she couldn’t tell if she was looking at her son… or the thing… she’d created.

His hand had trembled when he twisted the blade—but not from regret. From fury.

“You’re not even worth killing,” he whispered—spat through clenched teeth, each word dripping with contempt.

The blade was drawn from her chest in one clean pull. Not with hesitation. Not with mercy. With disdain.

The withdrawal burned worse than the strike.

Before she could fully register the movement, his hand hovered inches above her chest—right over the open wound. A chilling cold bloomed from his palm, not the comforting kind—but the clinical, detached kind. Ice spread over her sternum, seeping into the torn tissue. The wound began to close—not fully, no. Just enough to stop the bleeding. Enough to keep her alive.

“You’re worth it to fucking suffer,” he finished, his voice low, final, echoing in the sterile silence like a death sentence.

It wasn’t kindness. It was all about control.

Maddie’s hands trembled around the photo frame now. Not from fear. No—never fear.

This piece is—a kind of aftermath of what is going to happen in my phic. I don’t even know if people are reading it lol.

Just… the aftershocks of loss. The lingering tremors of something she refused to name.

She set the frame down carefully, like it was a specimen too fragile to fracture—too sacred to break. Her expression remained composed, perfectly arranged, every muscle calculated into stillness.

But inside?

Inside was a mother’s graveyard. Unmarked. Silent. And filled with everything she’d buried just to survive.

⟢ I’ll be honest—I’ve developed a real hate for headcanon Maddie. Not just because of all the existing phics out there where she vivisects Phantom—her own son—whether she realizes it or not. But because of my own phic. I created that version of her, and now I can’t look at her without cringing. Drawing her was… uncomfortable, to say the least. And yeah, I know—it sounds weird. But it is what it is, and there’s no undoing it now.

⟢ I don’t enjoy writing Danny as a villain either. But sometimes, to really understand a story, you have to look at it through someone else’s eyes. Right?

⟢ This piece is a kind of aftermath of what’s coming in my phic. Honestly? I’m not even sure if anyone’s reading it, lol.