#so it makes sense that we don’t remember things

[dduane]

I have been trying to write fic (well, smut) set in a world where certain things are slightly different to serve the fic's plot.

However, each time I try I have run into a problem: my head insists I need to justify the changes - I need to know comprehensive details about how the world works so I can ensure everything is consistent and not too f'd up.

So I get bogged down, and don't write a word. What do?

In your position, I’d sit down and write myself a bible.

This is how I did my prep for Barbie: Fairytopia.* And how I’ve done it for various works of fic presently on AO3… and how I’m doing it right now for the new Sherlock Holmes and the Giant Rats of Sumatra III project. I was taught this art by my animation story editors at Hanna-Barbera, and it’s stood me in good stead. (Peter and I pulled down our first miniseries assignment from a company that told us “we gave great bible.” And that was true.) 😄

When I say “bible” I don’t necessarily mean something that thick! (Though some of mine have been pretty hefty, with one TV project’s bible running more than a hundred pages… because I knew I had skeptical and underinformed TV execs to convince about something historical.) For the kind of purpose we’re describing here, your prep bible could be quite short: maybe looking like a bullet-pointed “shopping list”, five or ten pages long. It can be just as long or short as it needs to be to cover all your salient points.

The idea is simply to put down, in concrete form, a list of the main “different things” you need to know and remember about your alternate universe when you’re working in it. This is where you do your justification work, in as much or as little detail as you need to convince yourself you’ve got the necessary bases covered. The virtual “stage manager” who sits at the back of the theater of the Writing Department in your mind, judging when things are right, will be your guide here, and will advise you as to when you’ve got enough and it’s time to stop. And once this stuff is down on the page, you’ll be a position to judge critically whether everything makes enough sense to work with, and slots together correctly.

This is also a bit like (for the prose part of a project) outlining, in that it’s incredibly freeing. Once you’ve got this background nailed down, you know you can safely turn your attention away from it and get down to the serious business: drama, and the character interactions that express it. (And inevitably as you’re doing the bible writing, you start getting ideas for how the substrate you’re laying down is going to affect the conflicts between and among the characters. The bible stage can be incredibly fruitful this way.)

It would be facile to describe the bibling process as “getting the easy part over with first”. Because sometimes it’s not easy! But it’s worth doing first, because having done this first relieves you of the ongoing anxiety caused by knowing you may have to keep inventing or rationalizing stuff on the fly. (Which can produce the kind of micro-blocks that a writer can generally really do without.) …Not that you’re not going to be inventing things on the fly anyway: that’s a normal part of the writing process. But the biggest and most obvious issues will have been handled already, and you’ll know they have; which is always a weight off one’s mind. And the fewer of those weights you have loading you down, when you’re in the midst of the labor of composition, the better.

Anyway, give it a shot and see how it works for you. And then you can, like the rest of us smut writers, get on to the really pressing business: making sure you haven’t lost track of where all the characters’ arms and legs (and things) are when you’re writing those hot steamy sex scenes. 😏

Hope this helps!

*ETA: My remit on this job did include creating a bible for them. But I write a rough-draft one for myself first, including various meta that I needed but they didn't.

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ THE DRESS CODE

Bakugou was in a bad mood.

It was stupid, really. Absolutely stupid. But he couldn’t help the scowl on his face as he approached your desk.

“Oi,” he snapped, crossing his arms. “What the hell are you wearing?”

He had taken his time this morning, making sure the maroon shirt he picked out was one he actually liked. It wasn’t over the top or anything—just a plain shirt with a white skull on the back, paired with some casual black pants.

But it was the principle of the matter. You were supposed to match. That was the whole damn point.

The UA student council had this dress code specifically to celebrate Valentine’s Day. Maroon for those who’re in a relationship, blue for those in a situationship, green for those in the “friend zone,” black for those who are admirers from afar, and the plain school uniform for those who are more inclined in their studies to even bother with romantic relationships.

Was this your way of subtly denying him as your boyfriend? It wasn’t like you two were in hiding—and it’s not like he doesn’t mention that you two are seeing each other whenever someone pesters him about it.

You looked up, eyes wide and innocent. “Huh? My uniform?”

Bakugou’s brow twitched. “Yeah, I can see that. Why?”

You blinked, clearly not understanding what he was getting to. “Because… it’s Friday?”

“Did you forget what today is?”

You stared blankly at him, confusion written all over your face.

“...Friday?”

“Valentine’s Day!” he barked, causing a few of your classmates to glance over in amusement. He jerked his thumb at his own shirt—a simple red tee with a black skull printed on the back. “Maroon’s for people who are dating. Thought we were gonna match.”

You felt as though your soul just left your body.

“Oh... oh.” Your hands flew to your mouth. “I... I didn’t know! You never told me!”

“Didn’t think I had to. It’s common sense.”

“And you don’t even like Valentine’s Day! So... I thought we weren’t doing the dress code thing...”

That was true. But still! He was adamant on making you look like the one in the wrong here.

“Well, I am,” he pouted. So subtle it could be mistaken for his signature grimace. “And I heard from Ears that you were planning on wearing maroon, you idiot.”

“I told her—I was thinking about it, though.”

Bakugou’s shoulders sagged, the irritation draining a little. “Yeah, well... I went and did it. Thought it’d be obvious we’re together if we matched. You had a shirt with a golden dragon on the back, too, right?”

Your heart fluttered, your gaze finally meeting his. He remembered. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks—Bakugou Katsuki, the loud, brash, and unapologetically stubborn hero-in-training—your boyfriend, wanted to show off your relationship. Publicly. On Valentine’s Day.

A moment in history!

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Instead, you jumped to your feet. “Wait here!”

Before he could argue, you bolted out of the classroom, leaving Bakugou standing there, baffled. He turned to find his classmates blatantly eavesdropping.

Mina’s eyes were practically sparkling. “Awww, Bakugou, you wanted to match with [Name]?”

Kaminari snickered. “Dude, that’s so cute.”

Kirishima grinned, throwing an arm around Bakugou’s shoulders. “You really have gone soft, man.”

Bakugou’s eye twitched, and he shrugged Kirishima’s arm off roughly. “Shut it, Shitty Hair. I just didn’t wanna look like an idiot wearin’ maroon by myself,” he grumbled. “And Sero’s wearing green—‘nd I don’t see anyone picking on him!”

“Cool it, man,” Sero laughed, shaking his head. “The incident still stings.”

“We salute you, brave soldier,” Kaminari replied.

Mina sighed dramatically, resting her chin on her hands. “Young love...”

His cheeks turned crimson. “Mind your own damn business!”

Before his embarrassment could escalate, you came running back, slightly out of breath, with something red clutched in your hands. You unfolded it and slipped it on—a maroon cardigan. It hugged your frame just right, with allowance to spare, the color bringing out the warm shimmer in your eyes.

You looked at him, your fingers fiddling with the buttons. “I had this in my locker. Does this work?”

Bakugou stared at you, his irritation disappearing like a factory reset process. You looked... cute. Really cute. But he wasn’t about to say that out loud. He cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah... s’fine, I guess.”

Your face brightened, a smile breaking across your lips. “Really?”

He looked away, his voice gruff, though there was no heat in his reply. “Whatever.”

Their moment was interrupted by Mina’s dramatic squeal. “And they say romance is dead!”

Kaminari gave a thumbs up. “Didn’t think Bakugou could be such a romantic.”

Kirishima laughed. “Man, who knew you’d be such a softie?”

Bakugou’s eye twitched, and he spun around, his hands sparking. “One more word and I’ll kill all of you!”

His classmates laughed, not the least bit intimidated. They could see right through him—Bakugou Katsuki was completely, undeniably, head-over-heels for you.

Turning back to you, his voice softened, his anger dissipating. “C’mon, let’s go. Cafeteria had those stupid snacks you wanted.”

Your smile never wavered as you followed slightly behind him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, yeah... Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Bakugou hopes the next Valentine’s Day to come is when he can properly match with you. He won’t let you forget this time around.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

𝑯𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝑽𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝑫𝒂𝒚

a/n: happy valentine’s day, my beloveds!!! i love all of you so, so much. like, so much. if i could, i’d send you all glitter-covered valentine’s cards and the biggest, warmest hugs. i hope today is kind to you, whether you’re spending it with someone, treating yourself or just chilling. you deserve all the love in the world. Bill’s and Fiddleford’s parts are coming bit later, but in the meantime, i hope you enjoy Stan and Ford. take care of yourselves, and remember: you are so, so loved 💖

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒍𝒆𝒚

the first thing Stan does on valentine’s day is complain. “ugh,” he groans as he gets out of bed, rubbing his back. “it’s valentines and i wake up feeling like i got hit by a bus.”

you raise an eyebrow when you see him coming downstairs to the kitchen. “you say that every morning, Stan”

“yeah, but today it’s worse. i swear.”

you tilt your head, thinking. “i could give you a massage?”

just one simple innocent offer and Stanley Pines, full-grown conman, ex-criminal, self-proclaimed tough guy, goes absolutely red. “uh—what? no, i don’t need—” he coughs, turning away. “not like—i mean—“

you smirk. ”so that’s a yes?”

“that's a no!” he grumbles, turning away and heading out of the room, all red and embarrassed.

later, after hours of pacing, making frustrated noises and trying to convince himself that this is a stupid holiday and why does he even care, while also trying to figure out how to ask you on a date without looking like a complete idiot. . .

Mabel is busy hanging out with Candy and Grenda, so he turns to Dipper, which is a mistake.

Dipper, who was in the middle of reading Stanford's journal, looks up at him. “so, essentially, grunkle Stan, what you need is a multi-step plan.”

Stan is horrified. “a what?”

“a plan,” Dipper continues, flipping to a fresh page. “a strategic approach. first, we gather data. then, we make a list of optimal date locations. i’m thinking greasy’s diner, because statistically—“

Stanley just groans, dragging a hand down his face and that's when he realises something. he’s overthinking this. he’s sitting here, talking to his nerd nephew, listening to plans and lists, when he’s never needed a damn plan before in his life. what the hell is he doing??

“okay, nope, nevermind. kid, i’m just gonna take ‘em to a diner.”

“wait, what?” Dipper frowns. ”but you need a PLAN!”

”the plan is the diner.”

“wait, grunkle Stan! i was getting to the part about psychological profiling!“

so that’s how Stanley Pines ends up standing in front of you, very awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “uh. you, uh. wanna go to greasy’s with me. for a date. or whatever.” the moment the words leave his mouth, he wants to die.

and now he wants to die much more because you just smiled at his words and nodded. “yeah. . . yeah, i’d love to!”

the date is going great, which means Stan wants to run. you are too beautiful. it’s pissing him off. especially when light catches your face, when you laugh, when you keep tilting your head while listening to him ramble about whatever, even though he’s pretty sure he’s not making sense.

his heart is pounding. “soo, uh, you, uh. you ever been arrested?”

in response he gets a full-on, unattractive, choke-on-your-own-spit kind of snort from you, what makes him look so proud of himself.

“okay, ice broken,” he thinks. “we’re doin’ great. yeah.”

Stanley hates himself for it but you are too beautiful and funny. and it is ruining his life. he’s sweating. literally sweating. he tries to make small talk and immediately forgets how to speak like a human being.

he’s gonna run.

he's gonna find some dumb excuse, say he left the stove on, pretend to trip and fall out the window. but what he doesn't know is that he's not the only one who's nervous, you’re both so awkward it’s ridiculous. Stan keeps tugging at his collar. you keep fidgeting with your hands, stuttering and avoiding eye contact

suddenly, even to yourself, you stand up. “non specific excuse!!” after announcing that, you flip the entire damn table over and run out of the diner.

Stan watches this happen in slow motion and, without thinking, he jumps up, pointing at you.

“now that’s my kind of person!" he yells to people at the diner as he runs after you.

you’re both running through the empty gravity falls streets, laughing so hard you can barely breathe. when he finally catches up, you both collapse against a wall, panting.

“i can’t believe you just did that, wow!” Stan wheezes.

“well, i can’t believe you chased me,” you shoot back.

you’re both just grinning at each other like idiots. Stan looks at you and damn, he’s so in love it’s stupid.

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅

there’s glitter in your hair and Ford notices this first, because there’s glitter everywhere, on the floor, on the couch, on him.

“Mabel,” he says slowly, lifting a sleeve coated in shimmering specks. “what exactly have you done?”

Mabel, who is sitting across from you, shrugs, completely unbothered. “we're making valentine’s day masterpieces, obviously.”

you grin, lifting a small, glittery pink heart with messy writing scrawled across it. “see? Mabel’s making some for her friends. im just helping her!”

oh, damn, that adorable smile of yours. . . Ford clears his throat, though his ears turning noticeably pink. “oh. well. that’s very sweet of you.”

before you can say anything, he disappears into the kitchen, leaving you and Mabel alone together.

some time pass and what started with nail polish, somehow escalated to homemade friendship bracelets with Mabel telling you about all boys she met in Gravity Falls, avoiding Gideon's name, you smile at her because that girl looks so cute cutting out ridiculous little shapes with her tongue sticking out.

“you think waddles would like a card?” Mabel asks, tapping her chin. “or do you think pigs don’t understand the concept of romance?”

“i think waddles would eat the card,” you reply, flicking a bit of glitter at her.

“you are so right!”

suddenly, you hear very familiar voice from the kitchen. “no— waddles!! no! bad pig! shoo! go away!”

Mabel screeches so loud your eardrums nearly rupture. “Ford and Waddles interaction?! i need to see this!”

you dont even have time to react as she launches herself across the room, screaming your name over and over in excitement.

“off the counter! off the counter now!”

you're a curious person, so when you finally peek in you see Ford half-bent over the kitchen table, trying desperately to shield something from Waddles, who is aggressively attempting to munch on a piece of paper.

“uncle Ford!” Mabel yells, “why are you yelling at my baby??”

Ford jerks up. “i—i. . .”

Mabel’s eyes catch sight of the now slobber-covered valentine’s day card and she gasps again, so loud you cover your ears.

“OH. MY. GOSH.” she whips back toward you, pointing dramatically. “go. go away. go to the living room and act like nothing happened!”

you want to stay here longer, trying to see what is going on there, but Mabel keeps pushing you. “do not question me, just go!”

Ford looks mortified. you, very confused, decide to listen to Mabel and back out. when you sit down on the glitter-covered floor, you still hear their voices, because Mabel just doesn't know what does “talking quiet” means.

“oh my gosh, uncle Ford!” from the kitchen comes the unmistakable sound of a chair scraping across the tile, a very panicked grunt, and what is possibly the sound of an envelope being hastily shoved under something. “i knew it! you were making a valentine’s day card!! oh my GOSH, i knew it!! i knew you had a crush on—“

“MABEL!!”

“i can’t believe this, holy llama socks, you’re actually doing something romantic!”

“shh!! keep your voice down!! what if—“

“what color was the glitter? tell me right now. was it pink? was it gold?! it was gold, wasn’t it?!”

there’s a very long pause. then, Ford mutters, “. . .it was gold.”

Mabel squeals. ”uncle Ford, you have to give it to them, please please please!”

“i can’t do that!”

“ughh, why not?!”

Ford sounds so exasperated you can picture him running both hands down his face. “because that is embarrassing! i. . . Mabel, i can't do that.”

”but you wrote them something sweet, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU??”

“Mabel, sweetie, please.”

“you are so lucky i have a strong sense of mystery, uncle Ford, i would never, ever reveal your deepest secrets. no matter how much they might want to know. even if they asked very nicely. even if they bribed me with candy. even if they looked so, so beautiful today!”

and god, Mabel acts so suspicious for hours. she side-eyes you at dinner, she hums conspicuously when Ford walks past, she does wiggly eyebrows. it’s a whole thing! but she doesn’t tell you why, and by the time the day winds down, you nearly forget. . .

until later that night, when the house is quiet, you find a folded pink valentine’s day card tucked neatly beside your pillow.

the front has a little hand-drawn equation that you don’t totally understand, but something about it makes you smile.

the inside reads, in Ford’s impeccable cursive handwriting:

“of all the possible realities, i’m grateful to exist in this one with you ♡ ”

and underneath, a little scrawled postscript “p.s. please ignore the bite mark on the corner. i had to fight for my life against a pig today.”

[asdfghjklartblog]

Vermillion

Trans masc reader x yandere batfam

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (here)

Hello! Sorry this took a bit longer, but the chapter is also longer than usual so hopefully it makes up for it! So this is like almost exactly 7.4k words so take a little break, grab a drink and maybe some tissues because I cried while writing this one. I’m also generally an emotional person so that’s not saying a lot tbh. Anyways have fun!

Tw: Neglect, Slight gore, Obvious favouritism

——————————

There’s no other way to say it, Jason’s been following you around both in and out the manor. But considering you’re a homebody who does nothing but go to school, read and write fanfics, draw commissions and whatnot, it was pretty damn easy to just follow you around. At first you found it unsettling, even you, a daddy’s girl didn’t hang around your daddy that much. But he grew on you, like how ivy grows along the side of a building. You guys get to talking and you two realise that you lived close to each other before you were taken in by Bruce. Which is both a pleasant and sad surprise. You love Jason, he was your family just like Luke.

You don’t know what’s going on with Dick per se, but you heard through the grapevine that he’s studying to be a cop in Bludhaven. He comes back home sometimes, well more rarely than anything but whatever. It’s not like it’s your problem. The two of you still have nothing in common, and he still finds your doujinshi and your obsession with anime a bit… Weird but he doesn’t say anything anymore. And considering that the two of you are older now, you don’t out right avoid or fight each other anymore. Mostly because he’d kick your ass.

Bruce is… Different. Not in a bad way but, he feels more unsure? Whatever Dick and Bruce fought about, you could tell that Bruce was still grumpy about it. I mean who could blame him? Dick was his favourite, his golden child, the one he wanted, the one he chose. You try not to think about it, because it hurts. And then it hurts more as you start to spiral and if it gets too bad you start feeling sick. But it’s fine. You’re fine. This is fine. Bruce is getting closer to Jason, it kinda makes your heart clench as you see their relationship progress. Jason tried to invite you to spend time with them but you knew Bruce would be uncomfortable, and you’d probably be throwing up less than a minute in from anxiety.

However you started thinking about being trans masc, at least that’s what you remember it being called. ‘Cause Robin was probably right. She has a knack for sensing these kinds of things. She helps you look into where to get HRT and how the process works. However the problem was getting permission from Alfred and Bruce to get the treatment. You don’t necessarily think it’d be a big deal but Alfred was old. He doesn’t seem like the type of man to be transphobic but, you never know. But Bruce? You weren’t too sure about him. On one hand he’s a respectful and good man. On the other hand he is a man and a playboy, so honestly the odds didn’t look too good.

The first person you come out to is well, Robin. Obviously. Well I mean she already knew so was it really coming out? It’s more like she was waiting for you to come out of the see-through a glass closet. However the second person is by complete accident. You see, you were tutoring Eric in Algebra. You didn’t have a choice, you were volunteering as a tutor and you couldn’t just refuse a person without a good cause. You were explaining polynomials to him and he just suddenly throws his head back and groans. “Ugh, this is so fucking gay. What do we even fucking need this for.”

And you replied without thinking. You chuckle before saying. “Yeah just like me.”

The both of you freeze before he just slowly turns to you and asks. “Dude, you serious?”

You lean back against the chair’s backrest and sigh. “Yeah.”

He then waits a beat before saying. “So like, you like women? You like pussy?”

You almost choke on the laughter that just bubbled out which he just looks at you weirdly for. You catch your breath and try to clear up the confusion. “Sorry, I don’t know why but that was really funny to me. But uh, maybe? I’m not sure yet. But I mean that I’m a man that likes other men.”

You can see that Eric needed to connect the dots, and you know he’s got it when his eyebrows shot up and he lets out a little. “Oh.”

You nod and say. “Yeah, I found out like a year ago but didn’t have time to delve into it at the time.”

He then nods, letting out a small hum. He sits up straight before looking at you and just says. “I think I like guys too.”

Your neck slowly turns to him and you raise an eyebrow at that before sassily turning back to the textbook and replying with. “Ew, that’s so gay.”

He immediately turns to you with a flabbergasted look on his face. You try your best to keep your smile down but he can tell. He punches your shoulder playfully before saying. “Fuck off man, piece of shit gay boy.”

You answer back with. “Pot calling the kettle black.”

Eric rolls his eyes and the two of you chuckle before a calm silence fills the room again. After a few moments he gets serious and saying. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

You look at and you can clearly tell that he’s nervous about what you’re about to say. You let him stew in his anxiety a little longer before giving him an answer. “I won’t, I promise.”

He releases a breath that he kept down in his anxiousness. Eric then says. “Hey, if you ever want like help to make your body bigger or whatever, I can help. I mean I am on the football team and run defense!”

You smile at him in a way that looks like you’re playing around with him like a cat toying around with a mouse. “Yeah? You got any moves to show me?”

His eyes widen almost comically as he immediately turns red, the freckles on his face barely visible because of it. He then tries to laugh it off before saying. “Wow! I am beat! I think I’m gonna go now.”

You look at the time and you say in a confused tone of voice. “Eric we still have like more than hour of studying-“

But he’s already packing his things and rushing out the entrance of library. You sigh and start to pack your own things before you notice some blonde dude in a trench coat. You felt someone’s eyes on you before, and you kinda feel like it might be that guy. It’s pretty quiet in the library and despite there being more than enough seats, he sits right in front of you. He flashes you a charming smile and when you look at him, he reminds you so much of Daddy. He’s also got the scruffy stubble on his jaw and above his lips. He then says with a scouse accent. “Hello, my name’s John Constantin-“

You interrupt him and loudly say. “Sir, I am underage.”

A few heads turn and he sighs then chuckles before saying. “Cheeky little thing aren’t you.”

You shrug before starting to pack up. He then looks you up and down before asking. “Mind telling me about something kid?”

You groan and ask him. “What? What the hell do you want? Why are you, as the people from where you live would say, gegging in?”

He raises an eyebrow before he asks. “You know scouse?”

You reply with. “I looked it up and watched a couple videos on it late at night. Kinda stuck to my brain for some reason.”

He nods before saying. “Makes sense. Now tell me, you seen any owls lately?”

Your heart skips a beat but you’re able to maintain your cool as you finish packing up, you then reply with. “Not really, I mean owls are hard to find in gotham not many trees and all that.”

He eyes you up and down before saying. “Don’t lie kid, it won’t do you any good.”

You get up and glare at him before saying. “Go fuck yourself.”

He smirks before sarcastically calling out as you walk away. “We actually say ‘sod off’ but nice try!”

You rush out of the library and go home. What the hell was that, and how did he know about the owl in your dreams? You haven’t told anyone except Luke. Maybe you shouldn’t have just blown the guy off. You sigh as you think about it a bit more, but you’re tired from studying and just wanna have dinner and then go to bed. The dreams stop for a while after that, letting you sleep peacefully.

You start to do better in your classes for some reason, it’s definitely not the result of you now sleeping restfully and exercising with Eric. But after you start seeing the results, seeing the muscle on your arms and your back and whatnot, leaves you feeling amazing. It even gives you the confidence boost to come out to Luke who just says. “Yeah, I kinda guessed. Either that or you were some kinda freak.”

You pushed him playfully after he said that. He laughs and throws one arm around your shoulder and ruffles your hair. He sighs, as he goes back to lie down on the grass. The two of you are just hanging out on the grass as the two of you look at the stars. He then hums before saying. “You know, I can’t believe it’s been 10 years since we met. I still remember when you barely came to my waist, and now you’re just an inch above my shoulder! Absolutely insane.”

After he says that you sigh, you start to tear up as you say. “You know how I have trouble remembering stuff? I… I’m starting to forget my memories with my daddy. And I don’t want to forget. I try to write them down but, I can only remember general things. I can’t remember what was there, what we were doing-“

Luke interrupts you gently, and say in a low voice. “I know it’s scary. I had the same fears as you did when I started to realise that I couldn’t remember Monchi, my first dog. You want me to tell you about him?”

You close your eyes as you listen to him talk, he talks about how Monchi died when he was barely 6, and that he was a small pug that was also kinda fat. How the dog loved napping the most, and loved sleeping on Luke the best. How the dog loved those bacon treats you would always see on the commercials. You laugh and the two of you decide to keep a journal of your most precious memories.

One day you realise that you haven’t told Jason yet, and but figured that he probably wouldn’t know about any of that stuff so you put it off. However as you turn 16 you think that you should probably tell Alfred sooner than later. When you tell Alfred and he smiles gently as he says. “You are very brave for telling me. And I thank you for trusting me enough to tell me miss- no, master y/n. Excuse me but it will take some time before I ingrain this information into my memory.”

You nod and then continue as you say. “I was actually hoping that you could help me with something? I-I really want to get HRT, and I need Bruce’s consent to do that. I was really hoping you could maybe convince him? I just I’m scared of telling him myself.”

Alfred looks at you sadly before nodding and says. “How about we tell him now? He has an opening right now, and since he stayed home today, you can tell him face to face.”

You panic and reply with a stammer. “N-No that’s okay really I can wai-“

Alfred then starts to drag you towards the lion’s den and Jesus, this old man is strong, what the hell. He then knocks on the door, and you’re hoping, praying to god that Bruce says he’s busy. However you hear Bruce call out. “Come in!” When both you and Alfred enter, Bruce raises an eyebrow, he’s probably thinking ‘What did she do now?‘ Alfred then says to Bruce. “Master y/n had some news to tell you. Nothing bad, good news actually.”

You then blurt out a tad bit too loud. “I’m trans. A-And I like men. And I think I like girls?”

Alfred and Bruce stare at you in complete silence. Thankfully, Bruce interrupts the awkward silence with. “Congratulations. Is there.. Anything else?”

You take a deep breath and ask. “Can you sign the consent form for the HRT treatment?”

Bruce nods and then goes back to work. That was super anticlimactic. But at least you got permission! Over the next month you and Bruce fills out all the forms and you’re overjoyed! Everything is great you’re voice is getting deeper, you’re growing even taller, you started getting chest hair among… Other things. But overall this is great!

One day at school, you’re studying in the library in the little corner where nobody can see you when you overhear some people making fun of you. You don’t really care though, you’ve made your peace with how weird you are. However their topic then changes to Jason.

A boy says. “Have you seen that kid? He doesn’t deserve to be here, he’s alley trash! He should be back on the street with that slut of a mother he has.”

They giggles like it’s the funniest thing in the world, it grates on your ears. Another girl continues, saying. “Oh my god! Nick you can’t say that! But really, how is he getting good grades? Maybe his mom taught him a thing or two!”

You’re frozen in place, you can’t believe what you’re hearing. It feels vile, disgusting and you feel like tearing out the very throats that are assaulting your ears.

Another girl joins in and says. “We should get him to get kicked out of the school! Maybe we could make look like he’s harassing us or something? Oh! We could make it seem like he’s taking advantage of us!”

You get up. You’ve heard enough. As you walk to where the girls are, you feel red hot anger going through your veins. You get to where they are, and hearing their cruel suggestions laughter grates on your nerves. You walk right up to them, getting up close and personal before growling. “What the fuck did you say?”

The girls look at you as if you were a piece of gum on the sole of their shoe, the boy looks at you with a smirk as if to challenge you. The boy pushes you away and says. “Oh, look! It’s bloody mary, what are you doing here? Did you hear what we said? You’re lucky it isn’t you we’re targeting. At least half of you is worthy of being here.”

You glare at them before getting right up in the boy’s face again, you brush your hair back and stand up straighter and saying. “If you don’t fucking shut up, and mind your business. If I see any of you near my little brother, it’s on fucking sight. You understand me? I’ll fucking get teachers involved, the police, your parents, I’m dragging you all down.”

The guy scoffs and pushes you away before saying. “You and what army? Everyone in school knows that Bruce doesn’t care about yo-“

He doesn’t get to finish that sentence as you uppercut him. He stumbles a bit before he collapses onto the floor, unconscious. Then you look at the girls and hiss. “Either you stop whatever the fuck you’re planning, or I come back with more than just my fucking fists”

The girls look at each other and nod hesitantly. You leave them be as you go back to your little corner in the library. You then pack up your things and leave, way too angry to study. So you just go to the cafeteria, where you see Jason happily eating with his friends. You start to calm down and smile stupidly as you see him safe and happy, he notices you staring and mouthes the words. “Stop looking at me.” You chuckle as you turn away to scroll on your phone.

You were called to the principal’s after that, but there was no video evidence to prove that showed that you knocked out with whatever that guy’s name was. It’s not that it was edited out, it just messed up during the time you were there. Weird. But since there was no evidence saying otherwise you got suspended and this time it was put on record. Bruce was disappointed in you but to fair when wasn’t he? Jason heard what you did and spent the week you were just hanging out with you and giving you random hugs. Which didn’t really bother you, you liked the physical affection. And after so long of barely having any, it feels nice. You assume it’s the same for Jason. Not that his situation was the same as yours but you know.

You always try and let Jason come to you, like a cat. Cause sometimes he just gets really shy or standoffish about physical affection, probably trying to unconsciously defend himself or something. It’s a bit hard to restrain yourself though when he’s so cute, you even get cuteness aggression from just seeing him. And thank god for Alfred feeding this boy, because in less than a year he’s in the target weight for his size and age and now he’s got these cute chubby cheeks and you just love pinching them. He absolutely hates it though. And sometimes you have this urge to just… Sit on him though? It’s so weird. Like you wish you were a giant cat or something so you could lie on top of him so he’d be warm, toasty and safe under you.

Now you’re 17, and usually you don’t celebrate your birthday, but since Luke came back from his tour in Afghanistan, and Jason saying that it could be fun, led the two of you to baking your own cake in the kitchen. So with Alfred’s permission and under his watchful eye, you guys bake a cake. You brought out the ingredients you needed out from the pantry and fridge, Jason was in charge of mixing things together and Luke was making sure the oven was preheated and then started to make the (kind of frosting you like). You take out the cake molds and ask the two of them. “How many layers should we make and how big should we make it? And another question, what flavour of cake would you guys prefer?”

Luke shrugs and says. “I’m fine with anything. I ain’t picky.”

Jason thinks about it for a moment before saying. “Mango, or maybe we could make like an earl grey cake?”

You respond with. “We’re doing (favourite cake flavour).”

Luke rolls his eyes while he smiles, he looks to Jason and says. “Whenever I get a slice cake for him, he always chooses that flavour. I don’t even know why I bother to even ask at this point.”

Jason snickers at that while you huff and say. “It’s my favourite flavour. If you got a problem with it then take it up with management.”

Luke chuckles at that, and all of you continue to do the tasks you assigned each other. You guys laughed and joked around while making your cake. Then you guys put the cake mix in the oven, while it bakes the three of you go into the living room to play video games, you guys play (favourite game), and you let Jason play too. But he keeps making the wrong decisions so you and Luke end up backseat gaming and spoiling everything almost everything. While Jason is playing, Luke looks you up and down he notices something. “Shit, y/n. What has Alfred been feeding you? And where did you get all this muscle from? You look good, man.”

Your smile brightens up and you nod at him, saying. “Thanks, the HRT has been helping me build more muscle mass, I’m getting more hair too, but the mood swings are rough man. Like I switch from violently angry to violently…” You look at Jason and see that he’s still playing the game but decide to not say what you were thinking. “Excited.”

Luke makes grimaces and pushes your face away with one hand. “Gross. Did not need to know that.”

You chuckle and then you ask. “Is it normal to get butt hair?”

Luke shrugs and says. “I mean I guess, some of my friends back during my tour had ass hair. I accidentally caught a glimpse when I hit the showers a bit late from doing extra burpees the sergeant assigned for me.”

You nod and then ask him. “Was it because the sergeant was homophobic?”

Luke looks at you confused and says. “I’m not gay.”

Which makes you smile but you try to stifle it as you continue to talk. “Yeah you are, you’re so gay. You fuck dudes left and right.”

He groans and the replies with. “I am helping you with both your schoolwork and making your fucking cake, and you’re seriously gaslighting me into believing that I’m gay?”

You laugh at that and then school your face and with your best brooding face and Bruce voice, you say. “Fox. You are gay. You are-“ and then you do the gay limp wrist thing.

Luke busts out laughing at that, and then starts to cough as he says. “What the fuck.”

You smile back at him and then see Jason doing something that requires concentration you, then start to practically lay on top of him as you say. “Ugh, gravity is increasing on me Jason.”

He tries to push you off and he almost does because he’s actually pretty damn strong surprisingly. He starts to get annoyed and says. “No it isn’t!!”

You nonchalantly reply. “It is too, Jason. Same thing happened yesterday.”

He groans and growls. “NO!” After losing the concentration game. He lets out another groan before pushing you off and saying. “Get your fat ass off of me!”

You laugh as you get off of him but then before he can even move you pull him onto your lap and start hugging him tightly which makes him groan even louder before struggling to get you off. That made you laugh and you eventually pull away from him, he goes back to playing his game and you sit there and wonder as you look at both Luke trying to help Jason with the game. Do they even know how much they matter to you? Do they know you’d kill for them? That you’d get your hands bloody and bruised for them? Would they do the same for you, you ask yourself. Would they love you and protect you just as fiercely? You then turn back to the TV and decide to enjoy this little piece of heaven.

The three of you eventually get back into kitchen and ice and decorate the cake together. It’s a bit lopsided, but it’s yours. And that is what makes it perfect. You guys watch (fav comfort movie) while you guys eat the cake. You guys all sleep in your room that night, having a little sleepover together.

In the morning you see that Jason is gone, you yawn and get up to go find him. You see his bedroom light is open and for some reason, you have this gut feeling. It tells you to be quiet, to peek into Jason’s room. Your brows furrow and you decide to trust your gut. You gently move the door, and peer into Jason’s room. You see Jason is changing. Gross. But as you’re about to close the door you see scars and bruises littering his torso. You freeze and decide to keep watching, why the hell does he have those? You’re almost absolutely sure he’s not getting bullied. You’ve made sure of that. So where did those marks come from? It can’t be Bruce, he might not love you, but he definitely loves Jason. And he isn’t the person to do that, you know it. It can’t be Alfred, he’d rather chop his arm off than hurt any of us. So who?

You then barge in, making Jason jump. Before he can say anything, you march up to him and pointing at the large purple bruise on his ribs you growl out. “What happened? Why the hell are you this scratched up and hurt? I know it isn’t from school and it not from-“

He tries to placate you by looking up at you with apologetic eyes and gently saying. “Y/n-“

You glare at him and say. “Don’t you fucking,” You then mimic the way he said your name and then continue. “I asked you a question and you better tell me the damn truth. I can read you like a fucking book Jason Peter Todd, don’t fucking play with me.”

Jason looks at you in the eyes and then looks to the ground. He sighs and says. “I’m in an underground fighting ring.”

You raise an eyebrow and roll your eyes before snarkily saying. “Yeah? Why the fuck is there cuts and slash scars on your skin then.”

He replies scoffs and mockingly says. “There’s a reason it’s called underground, there’s no rules.”

Your eyes widen at his attitude and you glare at him as you continue. “Don’t take that tone with me, boy. I may not be your father or mother but I am still still an elder.”

Jason looks at you with an unimpressed look and says. “You are three years older than me you are NOT and elder.”

You respond with. “Who made you the elder expert.”

Jason crosses his arms before growling. “No one. You’re just so unqualified that it’s clear to everyone.”

You’re about to respond to him again when you realise he’s trying to distract you. You then take a breath to calm down before saying. “Okay. Whatever. That’s not important. I’m just. Tell me the truth Jason, please. I’m your older brother, if you can’t trust me, who can you trust? I love you, very much. I promise I won’t be mad. I just want to know.”

Jason looks into your eyes before he sighs. He looks around the room before he gestures for you to lean in close. You do so giving him your ear, he then whispers into your ear. “Go fuck yourself.”

You pull away and groan in indignation before growling. “Fine! Keep your secrets! But don’t come to me when you need help.”

You march out of his room and accidentally slam his door, unaware that you practically broke the door and the wall around it. Why the fuck wouldn’t he tell you? Especially if he’s getting hurt from it! You can help, you’d do whatever he needs. You stop in your tracks and you know, that if you walk away now, you’re giving him a chance to cover his tracks. You’re giving him a chance to shut you out from… Whatever he’s going through. You groan, being a good big brother is hard. You start walking back and gently knocking on his door. The door falls over and you let out a surprised little noise. You see he’s staring at you before he turns away and puts his chin in his hand.

You take a deep breath and go to sit next to him. You sigh and you hesitantly put your hand on his shoulder. “Jason. Just… Please? Please just tell me what’s going on? Are you being bullied or something? Are you really going to some underground fighting ring? If so I’m not letting you go, at least not alone. Jason you’re my little brother. You and Luke are the only family I have-“

Jason blurts out. “I’m Robin.”

You freeze. You look at him incredulously and ask. “What?”

Jason also looks surprised. He then looks away and then turns back to you. “I- That was a joke.”

You look closer at Jason and you absolutely know he was telling the truth just now. You stand up and start pacing around the room before you come to a realisation. “Bruce… Bruce is..?”

Jason looks away, and that tells you everything you need to know. Everything starts to click together. Bruce is fucking Batman. Fucking Bruce?! Oh my god that’s why Batman can get all those gadgets. It makes total sense! And that means Dick was… Oh my god Dick was the former Robin, holy shit. What the fuck. You look at Jason and you want yell, scream, punch, not because you’re angry at him, but because you’re livid at Bruce for allowing this. They’re just kids! Jason hugs you from behind, startling you from your thoughts and says. “You aren’t mad, are you?”

You turn to look at him and gently cup his cheeks before saying. “No. No, I could never be mad at you. It’s not your fault. But Bruce-“

He holds your hands and puts them down before saying. “Bruce is doing his best. He’s been helping us. You saw how angry and how he’d used to be so angry.”

You then argue with him. “He’s still angry!”

Jason rolls his eyes and continues. “And I’ve been learning to control myself. I just, please. I like doing this. I get to help people-“

You raise your voice, not at him, but because you’re trying to plead for him to see things your way. “You can help people in different ways! You can volunteer-“

He then shouts as he looks deep into your eyes. “You know that’s not enough! Look at us! Look at why we’re here. It’s because it’s never enough. Look at how they dismissed your dad’s murder so easily! They closed the case in less than a month! Something was clearly going on there!”

You turn away from him, putting one hand on your waist and using the other to pinch the bridge of your nose. Jason continues and says. “If that really worked, neither of us would’ve been adopted by Bruce-“

You try to walk away from him but he quickly blocks your path and grabs your wrist. “Y/n please, it’s for the good of-“

“But what about you? I know you think it’s good, but is it? You’re 13-“

He interrupts and says. “I’m turning 14-“

You sarcastically say. “Yeah because that makes a WORLD of difference, yeah, sorry I didn’t realise you could pay your taxes and shit Mr. 14 year old.”

Jason’s hold on your wrist tightens and he argues. “Whatever! Look this is my choice-“

You interrupt him this time. “Really? Because to me it looks like Bruce is being insane, carless and-“

Jason growls back. “You take that back y/n-“

“No! This is actually insane Jason, he is making you fight people like the fucking killer clown, that scarecrow dude with the fear gas-“

“It’s actually a toxin-“ He grumbles under his breath, but you hear it. All this back and forth is driving you up the wall. You finally snap and start yelling.

“WHO THE FUCK CARES JASON THE FACT IS THAT YOU SHOULD BE SAFE, YOU SHOULD BE HERE, HAVING FUN, BEING A KID, NOT HAVING THE WORLD OR PEOPLE’S LIVES ON YOUR-“

You then realise that he’s looking at you scared, his hands are even shaking. You remember what he said about his dad. How he used to yell and beat him when he got drunk. You know this. You promised him you’d never yell at him, that you’d always love and care for him. Listen to him. But right now you’re yelling. You’re yelling at your baby brother, it doesn’t matter what you’re saying, or whether you meant to or not. You still yelled at him. Guilt floods your systems and the anger in your chest has changes into a heavy weight in the pit of your stomach. You slowly reach for him as you gently call his name but he smacks your hand away and runs out the room. You feel awful, how could you do that to him? You were angry and frustrated but you know better. You’re his safe house, you’re supposed to protect him. You turn around and try to chase after him but you bump into Luke. Seeing your panicked state and wide eyes he looks at you worried and asks. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

You’re about to say exactly what happened but, it’s his secret. It’s not your place to tell. You’re angry, but you aren’t stupid. This isn’t a secret you can just tell, you might trust Luke but Jason doesn’t know him as well as you do. You sigh and just give him a general overview of what just happened. Luke looks at you sadly and says. “Maybe you should give him some time-“

In a panicked tone you trip over your words but manage to get out. “But I- I have to apologise, I need to- I need to fix this! Luke, I’m supposed to-“

He grabs your shoulders and says. “Calm down. I know you’re scared that this will drive a wedge between you two, and honestly it might. I’m not gonna lie, but I also know that you both love each other a lot. You two are like two peas in a pod, partners in crime, however you wanna say it. He knows you didn’t mean to hurt him, of course you should still apologise but… Yeah just. Give him some space. He’ll come around-“

You then pause and then weakly say. “And what if he doesn’t? What if he decides I’m-“

Luke rolls his eyes and then says. “And what if you explode tomorrow. Look, it’s going to be fine. I know it.”

So you wait. And wait. And wait. Two whole weeks passes of him avoiding you. You try to talk to him but he always leaves without a word. It hurts. The knowledge that you hurt him so badly that he won’t talk to you, makes your heart twist with frustration at yourself. You try your best to give him space, but as the days pass it gets harder and harder to stay put. Especially when you know what he’s doing at night.

You have a dream again, maybe because you’re stressed. But this feels worse. You wake up, lying down on the beach. You get up with a groan and see you’re at the same beach that your other dreams took place in. However this time you see foot prints all over the beach. Some of them bird like, some of them look like normal human foot prints. And some of them look… Unnatural. You stand there looking around before you hear a soft crying behind you. It has an owl mask, you kneel onto the floor and ask the kid. “Hey, what’s wrong-“

She mumbles something you don’t catch. You pause and try to ask her to repeat herself when she repeats what she says. You barely catch what she says so you ask again. She whispers. “It hurts.”

Before you can ask what hurts she repeats herself a bit louder. “It hurts.”

You start to see where this is going so you start to back off but bump into another child as you walk backwards. You recognise this one is a boy and at the same time they repeat the words ‘It hurts’. You try to back away from them but you only find two more children blocking your way. Every time you turn away, more of them appear. They’re all different, all shapes and sizes, the only common factor between these kids are the fact all of them seem to be under 15.

They keep repeating the phrase, and with every time they say it they grow louder. You try to cover your ears but it does nothing. They’re surrounding you now, they’re screaming, pleading for you to help them, to save them. You feel your pants being tugged and that’s when you see that more kids are coming up from the sand. But they’re not climbing up, no, they’re pulling you down. The sand beneath your feet start to loosen, making it that much easier for them to pull you down with them. You try to pry then off you but like a hydra every kid you pry off, three more take it’s place. You scream for them to let you go, but none of them listen. You start to see flashes of visions, of children and needles, of people in masks, of a dark ballroom and an altar on the other side of the room. The sand is up to your waist now, numerous small hand clawing at your skin, leaving trails of blood in their wake. Their hands start to reach your face, their hands covered in your blood as they clamour to drag you into sand, grabbing and scratching where they can reach. The sand is now right under your chin. You get your hand free to try to pry yourself out, but it doesn’t work. The last thing you see is an owl as your mouth and lungs start to fill with sand.

You wake up with a gasp and start coughing out sand, you run to your bathroom sink as you throw up more sand as well at last night’s dinner. You hear someone coming into your room, and in your panicked state you grab the soap dispenser. As the person tries to come in you swing at him, the person dodges and you let out an animalistic growl and follow the person. Your eyes are unfocused and you can barely see, it’s like you can see enough to move but not enough to recognise anything. You hear something, like someone’s talking, but it’s so muddled that it seems like distorted noise. You swing again and the person dodges again, but you catch them off guard as you throw it straight at their face which nearly hits the intruder’s, but instead it hits the wall behind him. You tackle the stranger but they use that force against you and throws you onto the ground. They pin you to the ground with great difficulty as you groan and growl like an animal, the intruder then jumps off you and makes a run to your bed. You follow and as you’re grabbing and lifting you’re the brown thing by a bigger thing over your head to smash into the intruder’s head, you hear your daddy’s voice.

You freeze and your eyes start to clear up, you can see again. You’re huffing and puffing, you the put your bedside table on the ground. You’re room is mostly okay, if not a bit messy because of the fighting. You look to your bed and see that Jason’s looking at you with wide eyes with your Oliver plushie in his hands. You start to piece together what happened and sigh before you stretch your body lightly. Jason then yells at you. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?”

You groan and then say. “It just happens sometimes-“

Jason’s eyes widen further and he continues. “SOMETIMES!? You were acting like some backed up rabid animal! And that’s normal?!”

You turn around and massage your temples before saying. “Really? And you’re so much better, Mr. ‘Boy wonder’? Look if you came here to judge me-“

Jason makes you turn around and is about to yell again but stops himself. Instead he lets out a sigh and pulls you into a hug. You’re a bit surprised but you hug him back you two stand there for a moment in silence. The two of you let go and you take a step back from him, he gives you a melancholy look before calming himself down fully. He takes another moment to think and then says. “I get it. We both have secrets. I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry for avoiding you, and I’m sorry for running-“

You interrupt him, grabbing his hand and try to assure him. “Jason, no! You had every right to do that. I’m sorry I couldn’t control myself I just, recently it’s been harder to. I’m not saying it to excuse myself, I’m saying it to explain myself. And I was so frustrated, I… Jason I want you to be safe. And what you’re doing… I can’t protect you from that. That made me angry and scared, and the way you kept brushing off my concerns just left me feeling more worried and scared. I love you so much Jason. We may not be related by blood, but you matter to me more than anyone else. Well not anyone else, you’re a very close third to Luke.”

Jason chuckles at that, he then brushes his hair out of his face before saying. “Yeah, I get that, I’m sorry about that. It’s just I… I know. It’s dangerous. Of course it is. You don’t have to tell me that. But I have to, cause if it’s not me, who will? Who’s gonna protect the kids that are going through the stuff we went through?”

You look at into his eyes and that’s when you know, he’s not gonna quit this. No matter what you say. You cup his cheeks and tear up, your baby, your little brother. It brings you so much pride, so much pain and tremendous amount of grief to your heart knowing that every night you’re going to bed, he’s going out there to fight criminals and villains. People who don’t care that he’s just a kid. That’s when you let out a shaky sigh and let the tears run down. You kiss the edge of his hairline and really look at him. You look at his hooded eyes with beautiful brown irises, like the sweetest milk chocolate, his fluffy black hair which you run your left hand runs through, his full cheeks, the permanent little smirk on his face, which makes you smile. You chuckle wetly as you squish his cheeks as he chuckles back. You exhale shakily before saying. “It’s like I’m sending you off to war. Is there any chance I can make you change your mind?”

He chuckles at that and shakes his head as he looks back at you tearfully. You nod and softly say. “I thought so.”

You let go of him and you get a tissue to wipe your face. Once your face is dry you go back to him and say. “I’m not gonna stop you. I don’t think I’d be able to anyways.”

You both chuckle at the before you continue. “But I want to help. Whatever you or Bruce want me to do I’ll do. Well less Bruce, more you. I want to do my best to keep you safe. Just because you’re a vigilante doesn’t change that. And I want you to promise me,” You say as you put up your right hand with your pinkie out. “No more secrets. Please.”

He stares at your hand and then at you before asking. “Are you serious-“

“Just take the damn pinkie Jason.” You say with exasperatedly.

He rolls his eyes and then takes it with his own pinkie. You then say. “Promise me, promise me that if there’s anything and I mean anything that is potentially life threatening or changing you will tell me.”

He pauses, thinking about it for a moment before saying. “I pinkie promise to not keep secrets that could be potentially life changing or threatening from you.”

You nod, and before you release his pinkie you quickly add in. “Or else I get a free punch.”

“Hey! That’s not what we-“

“Well I guess you should tell the truth then to avoid getting punched then.” You say with a smirk.

He then rolls his eyes before you pull him into a hug and say. “I love you. So much. You’re my one and only brother-“

“What about Dic-“

You then interrupt him with. “He doesn’t count.”

Jason laughs at that and then says. “I love you too. Until I take my last breath.”

——————————

Tag list: @simpingpandas @randomlyappearingartist @birbtweettweet @soulsire @crazycaoticsimp

I hope you guys liked it! And thanks for waiting patiently! Also I still need a beta reader, not to like edit or anything just to read it over and like critique my stuff. But yeah, this chapter took longer as well as like became longer than I anticipated. I was initially thinking this would be the chapter that I, well, you know. But it didn’t. We’ll also see either Kori and Barbara in the next chapter or so. And if you guys want to see like Ethan again let me know! Because this might be your last chance :)

[dailyadventureprompts]

Doing a larger post about how to deliver information in a story using Elden ring and it's lack of narrative as an example and I got a bit sidetracked, so enjoy this ramble:

Alright, let me explain myself, but before I do, take a look at the elden ring story trailer...

Damn, that’s an excellent trailer, in just under four minutes we have: 

The inciting incident of Godwyn’s death

The setup that there’s a ruinous war between the demigods that’s reached a stalemate

Multiple mysteries we want to see answered including: What was the rune of death and how was it stolen and why? Who killed Godwyn the golden and set off the Shattering war? What the FUCK is happening to Godwyn? What was the elden ring, who shattered it, and why? Who’s this spooky doll lady And why do I want to kiss her?

The call to action: We live in an age of terrible conflict but you could put a stop to it if you become the elden lord. 

Hell yeah, that’s some excellent setup. None of which is in the game itself. Instead lets look at the intro cinematic..  

The opening narration is weirdly disjointed, with sentences seeming to cut off and jump around randomly. What’s more, We have no relationship to this narrator: in the story trailer the exposition was delivered directly to us the player by a specific character in the form of Ranni. Whereas the opening narration is delivered by an abstract narrator to… no one in particular? The piles of dead tarnished?   The stakes and call to action are likewise far clearer in the story trailer: “Become Elden lord to stop the ruinous war” is way more proactive than “ There was a war.. become elden lord”   Don’t even get me started on the fact that the war took place hundreds to thousands of years before our character even arrived and the setting has just been hanging about in limbo since.  

Whereas the story trailer gave us stakes and mysteries to solve, the opening cinematic leaves you with a general sense of “huh?” as most of the images in the slideshow only make sense once you already know what’s going on. It even goes as far to give you information you don’t need, introducing a bunch of characters that we might not meet for hours with no other context than “ Hey, remember these names for later”.  Fia suffers the worst for this, as the surprise that she’s actually a strangely intimate necromancer is spoiled by the fact that she’s shown canoodling a corpse in the intro. 

How do you fix this?  Have Hoarah Loux give the opening narration. He led the tarnished into exile and now he’s giving a rallying speech summoning them back. The tarnished have suffered during the (thousands of?) years of their banishment in the badlands and now they have a chance to return to the Lands Between, their home, if only they can follow the guidance of grace and complete their queen’s request.  Have the intro highlight how shitty the badlands are, and how glorious a place they left behind. 

This sets up a mystery because as soon as we get to the lands between as we’re faced with this bizarre broken landscape and Marika’s disappearance. We want to desperately find out HOW things got this way, and how/why the queen called us back. Finding Marika isn’t just incidental… her say so and authority  determines whether the Tarnished will be allowed to resettle in the lands between or be hunted as outlaws, giving our character a reason to pursue the plot other than the aimless push out the door we get in the vanilla cutscene. 

Along the way we’d find Ranni, who’d explain about the (preferably ongoing) Shattering war, and what we could do to amend it, whether that be finding the queen or stepping into a place of authority ourselves. 

……I’m going to have to turn this into a d&d campaign aren’t I? 

[oswildin]

Loki x You // Valentines Day Headcanons

avenger!loki au, established dating, featuring thor (he’s meddling aka wanting to knock some sense into these two idiots), lighthearted, humorous, don’t take this too seriously, it took on a life of its own lmao— I’m writing like it’s 2013 and ya’ll can’t stop meeee

they/them pronouns used

“It’s a farce! As if the mortals aren’t already making enough money with commercialising any and every little thing on their realm.”

“But it is the joyous celebration of love!”

“Sorry Thor, I agree with Loki on this one.”

“You do?” You nod. “Oh.” You frown. “What?” “Hm? Oh, nothing I’ve just remembered I’ve uh- got somewhere to be.”

Loki quickly stood from his seat, trying to leave the room as casually as possible, but it was clear to Thor and you that he was being anything but casual. Thor watched his brother for a moment, bewildered, before his gaze flickered back to you, seeing you simply shrugging as you continued making yourself some lunch.

The truth was, Loki was secretly expecting you to argue with him on his statement. He was expecting you to fight for Valentines Day and all its excess… Because he had something planned to surprise you.

His plan was to make you believe he didn’t care for it all (which before you, he didn’t) before surprising you with a romantic candlelit dinner with a dozen roses and one of those cheesy stuffed teddy bears holding a love heart.

However, now his plan seemed like a disaster.

Perhaps he had been reading too many romantic novels.

“You don’t think…” Thor trailed off, raising a curious brow. You furrowed your own, confused. “What?” “Well… You and Loki have been… courting. Do you think perhaps he had planned something?” “Thor, you heard him, he thinks it’s a farce.” “So do you!” “No, I don’t! I was just saying that because he did! I didn’t want him to feel bad for not doing anything!”

Thor wanted to knock some sense into you both with his hammer.

It was clear to him what had happened. He knew his brother. Whilst Loki may have pretended to be all aloof and unbothered, deep down he was a romantic. He still remembered when they were young and Loki had given Sif (and Fandral) a rare Asgardian flower to try and win their favour (albeit it was an illusion). (Also, Fandral had liked it, rather charmed whilst Sif had immediately called him out on it being an illusion… Oh, perhaps that’s why Loki had really cut her hair… Never mind, we’re getting off topic—)

So, Thor decided to meddle. As he often had done in the past with Loki. Although, his track record of success was… Ahem, not great, ahem.

“Brother! Whatever you are doing, stop at once!” Thor bellowed, barging into Loki’s quarters without warning. Loki stood with the teddy bear he had planned to give to you over the bin, muttering to himself about sentiment. His gaze snapped up at Thor, lips parting before he immediately hid the teddy bear behind his back.

“Thor! You oaf! What have I told you about knocking!” Loki exclaimed exasperated, glaring at his older brother.

“They only said they don’t believe in today because they thought you don’t believe in today!” Thor told Loki, sighing in his own exasperation. When did he become Cupid?

“Thor, it’s a Friday, I believe in the day-“

“Loki!” Thor cut off Loki’s smartass comment. “I know you have something planned. You may have changed since we were young, but you’re still a softie at heart.”

Loki bristled at that notion - clearly Thor had picked up such a word from the likes of Jane or Darcy. “I am not a ‘softie’, Thor. I’m a God. A God who has better things to do with his time than fret over a meaningless day that the mortals decided would represent how much they love their partners!” He huffed, finally throwing the bear into the bin.

Thor fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Loki, they want you to do something. They want to spend the evening with you.” He watched as Loki moved away from the small bin basket, sighing as he moved towards it. “Why must you always go on the defence?” Thor muttered, more to himself than Loki, as he reached down to grab the teddy bear, patting him off gently.

“Then why did they not say that?” Loki asked, irritated. “Why do they insist on not speaking plainly?”

“Because they didn’t want to make you feel guilty if you truly didn’t wish to celebrate.”

Loki paused at Thor’s explanation, his brows twitching faintly.

“Guilty?” He murmured quietly. “They… didn’t want to make me feel guilty…” He immediately sighed, realising that… yes, perhaps he had indeed acted a little… rash. He really needed to work on his fear of rejection.

“You see, brother?” Thor raised a brow, stepping closer as he held out the bear. “You both had good intentions. Even if you are both too stupid to realise it.”

Thor earned a glare for that last comment.

“Plus you didn’t exactly speak plainly either.”

Another glare.

Later that day, you headed into the common area, having misplaced your phone and assumed you had left it in there earlier. However, when you entered, before you could even process what was happening, the lights dimmed, candles lighting up on the dining table which was elegantly decorated.

Your brows furrowed, lips parting as you were about to speak, however, someone clearing their throat caught your attention, your gaze snapping to the sound.

“Surprise.” Loki said lightly, a little apprehensively, worried Thor had misunderstood your words or worse.

“But I thought-“

“That’s what I wanted you to think. However, I was thrown by your… shared distaste for the celebration.” He said lowly. “Nearly threw all of this out-“ He gestured towards the table, your eyes following as you noticed the roses and the teddy bear - as well as a nice bottle of red and two glasses, of course. “Before my… brute of a brother nearly tore my door off of its hinges and informed me that you had agreed simply to spare me the feelings of guilt.”

You blinked, lips still parted in surprise before your eyes met his again. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“You’re right.” Loki nodded. “But… I… wanted to.” A pause. “Don’t get it twisted, I do still believe this whole day is a farce and I’m not convinced Cupid would entirely agree with what the mortals have turned his day into with cheap decor and overpriced—“ “Ahem.” “But, that’s beside the point. Or maybe that is the point.” Loki took a breath. “I suppose the point is… You make me… want to believe in it.”

A moment of silence fell between you, your gaze softening at his words. Loki shifted slightly, suddenly feeling a little… exposed.

“But uh-“ He cleared his throat, pulling his eyes away from you. “I, um, cooked.”

“And the kitchen is still standing?”

Loki sent you a look of exasperation, although there was amusement there. You gave a small smile, letting him know you were teasing.

“I am capable of cooking a meal without setting things on fire. Not everything I do ends in chaos.” “No? That’s a shame. Would’ve made for an entertaining Valentine’s Day story.”

Loki rolled his eyes, unable to stop the smirk from tugging at his lips.

“Ungrateful.” “Insufferable.”

AKA ‘I love you’.

BONUS: “So… What you said about not everything you do ends in chaos?” “Not another word.” *Camera pans to the dinner table charred and tattered because Loki managed to knock over the bottle of wine, going to clean it and in the process, knocked a candle over and set the tablecloth alight. The sprinklers went off, meaning everything - including the food and you and Loki - is drenched.*

BONUS BONUS: “Can I have my phone back now? Just incase I need to call the fire brigade.” Loki:

[talenlee]

The Boundaries Of Love (In Worldbuilding)

Hey, does love exist?

This is one of those frustrating kinds of philosophical questions because there’s a host of stuff in the real world that exists, fictionally, but that doesn’t mean the material of it actually exists. In the real world, countries definitely exist, but there’s nothing about the country existing that’s true outside of the people in the space enforcing that identity. Numbers and math exist, in that you and I can both execute on their systems and get the same results suggesting some kind of central uniformity, but there’s nowhere you can go to get a cup of four.

In the real world, love is not an object unless you want to get into truly ontological spaces of what an ‘object’ is. It isn’t stuff, it isn’t material, it’s a fiction, in that it is also a term that is used to reference a signifier that humans can relate to based on its meaning. And those meanings are… weird. Those meanings are manifold and complicated, and this is, I must make clear, not a thing that’s true of all cultures everywhere.

Love is very ambiguous in English, because it’s a word that’s meant to cover a host of topics from the social to the theological to the preference to the experiential, and in no situation in English is love the wrong word or overstating anything but contrasting those uses with one another creates some strange discrepancies. In a vow, love is the term we use to describe a lifelong commitment’s motivation and then in the dinner after that wedding it’s a term used to describe how we feel about the nice fingerling potatoes.

I bring up English because it’s very important to remember this is localised to English. Not that other cultures are clearer in how they communicate about love, but about how that other cultures just aren’t doing the exact same thing because it’s always valuable to remember the boundaries and parameters of what your constraints are. You can use this as an angle to address, by thinking about these big, broad concepts and then trying to consider ways the concepts might be approached in different ways.

The United States and England, two major media producing cultures that share a language and use ‘love’ in similar ways still express that idea in a lot of different ways. As an example – god help us all – Love, Actually is a movie that is ostensibly about depicting love in a host of ways, and those ways include some incredibly British things that then, non-British people are able to interpret and map onto their own experiences. A Christmas novelty Single isn’t really a thing in most countries, but it didn’t stop Love Actually from selling perfectly well in America. This is because Love in this case is not a universal, uniform thing, but is a collection of floating, related signifiers. You don’t find love as a thing that exists and testing a goopy liquid in a tube, but instead, love is a thing you find by people talking about it.

This is where you can wind up with some interesting tripping points in your world. Because it’s not uncommon in worldbuilding, fantasy especially, to try and turn ‘love’ into something like a material force, or a fundamental underpinning of a magic system or something that drives psychics, and that creates a new problem. Because love is powerful. I mean, love doesn’t even ‘exist’ in our society and we still treat it as if it’s fantastically powerful, because people will do things in the name of love. Love is one of many motivators for people but it’s a really, really strong one, it’s so strong it overrides our common sense and can even lead to displays of strength or resolve that transcend all forms of survival instinct. We are really good at loving and loving is really good at being a motivator, and if that’s the case…

Like…

We already have in our real world, systems that try to weaponise love. Patriotism, for example, tries to engender a love of your country, one of those other fictions, and we do a lot to try and instill patriotism like a kind of psychic virus. That’s the real world where you can’t turn love into fluid goop and transport it, for example. When you start involving psychic powers or magical energies that can recognise and respond to the Power of Love, when there are government-impacting artifacts that care about Love, you run the risk of making it so that these are things that governments start to render programs to react to.

And that’s not necessarily a bad thing!

After all, imagine if there was a magical power of love sword in your country. Imagine if there was something that, like, cared about a wielder who was pure of heart and knew true love, and this was capable of turning the tide of armies in battles. In that environment, a government program to ensure that people could be pure of heart and could know true love would be worth doing. This is assuming there’s no ‘line of descent’ malarkey there though because then the government program to promote the use of this weapon is uh, eugenics, but if it’s just anyone pure of heart and smoochy of lips could use this weapon? Then you might wind up in a country where there’s a whole bunch of infrastructure that seems kinda weird and fanciful to people at first, where there’s a deliberate attempt to make sure people can communicate openly and honestly about love and relationships, and maybe even a more refined language for doing so, to make damn sure that people who have ‘true love’ know really well what that means and how they can use it, for when the government needs to access it.

When you look at a world, as a world builder, there’s always a chance you give away that whether or not the world is meant to have one language, it was definitely thought about in one language only.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[yelenasdiary]

Hiii! If its no trouble I'd like to request a fic!

(If it is just ignore this lol)

So the basic idea is Agatha comforting reader

You can make up like whatever reason you want for reader being upset I just cannot for the life of me find any Agatha comfort fics : )

Tyyy

You're Safe, My Darling

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x GN! Reader

Summary: Agatha comforts you after you wake up from a nightmare.

Fluff & Comfort

Warnings: None, if I missed any, please let me know! | 0.7K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I can completely understand the need for wanting more Aggie that isn’t so smut centred! I hope you enjoy this! x

Cupid’s Dream Masterlist 2025

Agatha’s back rested peacefully against the headboard as the moonlight’s comforting silver cast washed across the bedroom. Her glasses sat on the bridge of her nose; her eyes glued to the book in her hand while you slept peacefully beside her. One hand softly ran through your hair, evidence of how you fell asleep in the first place. Her eyes, following along with the black, small, printed words in her hand.

A strangled whimper left your lips, the sound instantly cutting Agatha’s attention from her book. Her expression softened, her gaze on you as your body trembled beneath the thick blanket. 

“Darling, wake up” Agatha murmured, her voice a low, soothing hum as she gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. 

You gasped, your eyes snapping open, wide and haunted. You sat up abruptly, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. “Agatha..” You chocked out, your voice raspy, barely above a whisper. Agatha didn’t hesitate to gently pull you closer, wrapping her arms around you for comfort. “I’m here, darling. I’m right here” she said, gently rocking you.

Slowly, your trembling subsided as you burrowed your face into the crook of Agatha’s neck, clinging to her as if she were the only solid thing in a dissolving world. The scent of her body lotion brought a sense of comfort. “Everything was…. burning….I couldn’t….save them” you began, remembering the horrible nightmare.

Agatha tightened her hold, feeling the raw emotion in your voice. “Save who, my dear?” She asked softly. 

You trembled again, “them…the innocents, trapped. The others….their scremas, I can still hear their screams” you went on as Agatha held you a little tighter, her heart aching with empathy. Your dream sounding all too familiar to the witch. 

“It’s okay my love, it was just a nightmare” the woman assures you, “you’re safe and nobody is trapped” she added, her voice thick with comfort as she gently pulled you back, cupping your face with care. Her eyes were soft as you met her gaze. “I would never let anything happen to you, ever. You’re safe sweetheart, I promise”

You stared into her eyes, searching for any sign that this might just be a part of your twisted dream. “This is the third dream this week” you replied, your voice full of fear. Agatha nodded, “I know, it’s been tough” she spoke, siding with you on your unspoken concerns. “Maybe we lay off on the horror movies for a bit” she suggested. 

“But you love horror” you replied. 

Agatha chuckled lightly, “I do but, if I want a horror show, I’ll just pop over to the Maximoff’s for 5 minutes”.

Her playful tone was enough to make you chuckle, “there is nothing wrong with them” you argued, playfully. 

“Ha! And there is nothing wrong with Rio either” Agatha said with a cocked brow. You leaned into her hold once more, the warmth from her easing the lingering chill. “Maybe we stick to action movies for a little while” you said softly. 

Agatha gently rubbed your back, “please none of those mission impossible films, I will cry out of boredom and don’t test me on that”. You chuckled once more, “don’t worry babe, I won’t force you to watch those!” You assured her.

“Thank Salem for that!” Agatha sighed with relief as you nuzzled into the crook of her neck again. Her lightful banter taking the edge off as you focused on the way her hand felt rubbing your back. Agatha smiled softly to herself as you made yourself comfortable in her arms, even though it was just a nightmare, she meant her promise to keep you safe.

The wind outside seemed to soften, no longer whispering through the trees. Your breathing began to slowly even out, “get some rest, darling” she said in a soft whisper, “I’ll be right here”. She added, pulling the covers over the two of you. With a gentle flick of her wrists, Agatha weaved a spell, a shield of protection to ease your mind. 

Soon, your body completely relaxed, your face serene and untroubled as you slept peacefully in the woman’s arms. She watched over you, her eyes filling with love as she watched the soft rise and fall of your chest. She placed a kiss on the top of your head, not wanting to wake you.

“You’re safe my darling” she whispered.

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[captainwriter]

Chapter 1 - Who are you?

Summary: Who is Quinn Hughes? That’s all Iris wants to know. Will Quinn and Iris be able to overcome the accident that rips them apart. Will Iris ever remember who Quinn Hughes is?

Masterlist l Chapter 2 (coming soon)

Warnings: Aussie spelling, hospital environment, occasional swear word.

Words: 1037

Pain. Beep. Pain. Beep. Beep. I can’t open my eyes. There is a weight on my stomach, what is it. I can’t move, I’M PARALYZED! You need to calm down Iris, panicking has never gotten anyone anywhere. 

“Please I don’t know what I’d do without you” Three squeezes to my left hand, if I were focused on anything else I wouldn’t have been able to feel it. It was so kind, gentle and delicate like I could break if they touched me. Who was that? I don’t know that voice. The weight on my stomach adjusts, a kiss is placed on my stomach. Pain screeches in my head like a banshee.

——

There is no weight on my stomach, nothing in my hand, I cannot hear anything other than beeping. Something is over my mouth, pushing air into my lips. If that’s what I think it is, I’ve put this on a 100 people before when working at the hospital. I must be at work, maybe I passed out.

I begin to breach the seal that had sewn my eyes shut. The light in the room is too much, a window on the far left, but the fluorescent lights beaming at me like headlights. When my senses focus like a camera lenses, I can see cords everywhere around me, sticking into me, they stick to my skin, multiple machines line the bed - ah the source of the beeping. A shitty hospital blanket dropped over me, it looks like the bed has been made with me in it. However, a district divit sits to my left near my waist a chair tucked in at the same spot. Bingo! I’m at work. I must have passed out. How embarrassing I’m now a patient. I pull the oxygen mask off and test my breathing. Something catches my eye, I’m not in scrubs, I’m in a hospital grown. Oh no, I know what ungodly things happen to these gowns, what they have seen, the horror and now I’m in one. WHO CHANGED ME?! If it was Brandon I’ll be forever scarred. I hope it was Jessica or Joan they are lovely. Multiple untouched drinks sit lined up on the table next to me, one the coffee mixed with the milk, three different juices. If only I could reach it I am dying for a drink. Condensation pools around the table, they must have been sitting there for a while.

Someone walks in a tall blonde man, is he the person who was holding my hand? I haven’t ever seen hime before, maybe it’s someone new at work. We do have new people all the time. “Oh you are awake, my name is Matt and I’m your nurse, do you know where you are?” It begins to dawn on me this does not look like the hospital I work at. The white walls aren’t the same, we have some bright coloured curtain and decor, this room is all white and grey. Yuck. The blanket does display my hospital name proudly. I don’t know where I am or what has happened. I shake my head and tears quickly make themselves present. Where is my family? “Can you recall what happened?” I stare at the white wall, my mind is utterly blank. I squeak out a “no.” That doesn’t sound like me, raspy and scratchy. If only I could have that juice. “What is the last thing you remember?” The nurse asked as he fiddled with machines, stopping the beeping, finally. 

“I… I remember working back home, I was working my last morning shift before I went on a holiday” my head gave this information without consulting me. The nurse paused and looked at me “Miss you are in Vancouver, Canada, you were in a car accident.” He must be confusing me with someone else.  He must have seen my confused face cause he says “I’m going to go get the doctor.” He begins to walk out however like a revolving door someone else walks in. 

This man has his head slumped, he looks dishevelled, his hair greasy and unkept, his dressed in track pants and a hoodie. Lucky he isn’t wearing an exposing gross hospital gown. He looks up and locks eyes with the nurse, a curt nod and tug of his lips as an acknowledgement. He has dark bags under his eyes, stubble growing. I hope this isn’t my doctor. He looks around the room before his eyes cast to me. He looks like he has done this 100 times before. He looks sad, looks like he needs a hug. 

His eyes light up like a child at Christmas. “I.. Iris” desperation dripping in his voice, he runs to me, dropping another two drinks on the table. One black coffee half drunk and another iced latte. Oh please be oat milk, I just want a drink. “Oh I’m so glad you are awake, you can’t leave me like that again. I’m so sorry.” I look at him blinking I probably look like a fish, with my mouth slightly ajar and big round eyes staring at this man, who’s holding my hand may I add, this time he is gripping it like it’s his life line. Tears well in his eyes, I think they are happy because he has this contagious smile. Nearly makes me smile but confusion is cast over my face. “Who are you?”.

The nurse still standing at the door, watching like we are the animals at a zoo. He cuts in, “I’m going to get the doctor,” he says as he steps out, in a hurry. 

I take a closer look at this man. His eyes hold so much emotion, I can’t read them all. I see tears begin to fall from his water line. I feel horrible but I don’t know why. I still have this urge to hug him. He begins to pull away from me, “I… Iris.” I never want to hear that tone ever again, he pulls away with disgust? disbelief? I don’t know who he is but his hold was comforting. But now we sit there like strangers, in utter silence, not touching neither of us know what to do or what comes next. 

[ancha-aus]

I finished two more chapters of the Real Age editing!! We euh...

Don't talk about how one chapter went from 3600 to 4000... and one went from 3500 to... euh... 7300...

INSTEAD!

Have a sneakpeak!! Of the rewrite! :D

This is from the drabble: Parentalbond Dust.

*-----------------*

Dust watches as some dude bro guy walks through the forest, shouting about how he isn’t scared and to come get him. That he can defeat that creep with his tricks.

“… Why?”

Dust almost didn’t hear the question. Nightmare spoke quietly and just barely above a whisper. When Dust glances at him Nightmare is only just barely looking at him from the corner of his own wide sockets, eye lights big but shaking a tiny bit.

Anxiety? Fear? That are usually things that cause that kind of reaction from the magic that makes up their eyes. People aren’t joking when they say the eyes are the windows to the soul. For most monsters it is very much fact as magic affects their eyes and that comes from the soul.

Dust makes sure to break eye contact by turning towards the phone. He paused the movie as soon as he realised a question had been asked. He turns back slightly towards Nightmare and sees he is a bit more, not relaxed but calm. Mh. Doesn’t like the focus on him? Dust does remember that even as adult Nightmare much preferred to work from the shadows or the backlines.

Dust shrugs “Why the guy is screaming and making himself an obvious target? I don’t know exactly, it is either bad writing or a show that this guy is too confident in himself or just too stupid to realise what will happen to him.”

Nightmare frowns as he looks away “No. I mean… Why… this?”

Dust frowns. He isn’t exactly sure what about the situation he is asking about. He glances at his phone “I mean. I was bored. I figured a movie and some food would be nice…” as a distraction. As a way to pass time. To make sure that Nightmare has energy and food in him. It just… made sense.

Nightmare looks more frustrated for a moment. Glaring at his hands which formed into fists. Shoulders tense as he obviously searches for the right words.

Dust thinks it is very strange. He is so used to Nightmare being well spoken and always aware of what he feels and in turn wants. Nightmare now… just isn’t like this. He is struggling to put his thoughts into words. He is more expressive and the emotions shift easier from one to the other. There is less control, less refined skills.

He is acting like a child would.

…

He is a child… and struggling with the problems and limits that brings him.

Dust can almost feel the shift that follows that thought.

It happened in a second as Nightmare sighs and just looks down as he is mostly lax “Okay.”.

Dust frowns. That is wrong. That isn’t Nightmare accepting something. No, that is the sound of someone who resigns himself to something. Nightmare doesn’t do that. Nightmare keeps asking, Nightmare keeps looking. He wants to know everything and more importantly understand everything. After all of them told their stories he didn’t just accept those as fact. He would keep asking. Asking about details about their thoughts. Everything.

Dust frowns as he remembers the anxiety of before. If he keeps Nightmare’s past in his mind it makes sense. It isn’t like he would be used to having adults listen to him, and when they did Nightmare was an adult. Maybe he needs to prod himself instead?

Dust is so bad at this. Killer should have stayed here, he is much better at this whole conversation thing. Still Dust mutters his question “No. What why?” is that enough? Does that explain what he wants?

Nightmare tugs on his own phalanges. Tugging on the small bones and Dust can hear a soft creaking sound coming from it. Dust is already reaching towards those hands and Nightmare flinches at it.

Neither of them move as Nightmare looks much more panicked as his breathing picked up.

He is… terrified… He is actually terrified.

How… how does he fix this?

A loud laughter “Fix this?! You can’t fix this! Nothing you can do can fix this! These are the consequences of your actions dear brother. You forced a traumatised child to experience more trauma, more abandonment and then took his choices from him. Forcing him to remain by those who clearly don’t care. There is no fixing this. And you deserve to be aware of this.”

No. No he… He can… fix this? Maybe Horror can? Horror is a good brother. Horror could explain and reassure him… Killer knows Nightmare better than any of them. Killer could maybe say something to connect with him. Or Cross!! Cross is trustworthy and a true protector. Maybe Cross can make him feel save.

Dust… Dust can’t do that. Any of it.

Nightmare is still shaking as he stares at him. Frozen. He always froze when he encountered something he didn’t know the answer to. They thought it was to think… Was it to think?

Dust realises he still has his hand out. With some difficulty he slowly pulls it back. Nightmare watches the hand silently. Nothing moves aside from his eye lights, which are only looking at the hand. Dust manages to bring his hand back to the phone and holds unto it, afterwards he just waits.

*----------*

It was a large sneak peak!! :D

[lunarsyskids]

Do any other systems write stories about daily interactions between alters?

Our inner world can be very vivid or very loose. It just depends. And so our memories of what we do there can also be really wishy-washy. I know I have two moms, but lately I’ve been feeling a bigger and bigger disconnect bc they only exist in the inner world and I don’t remember our interactions as much…

Is this a normal thing? Or are we faking having DID??? Because I’m worried this means we aren’t real because other systems talk a lot about their lives in their inner worlds and their interpersonal interactions and sometimes we have that but most of the time we don’t…

[the-meme-monarch]

“does sans remember resets” “does asgore remember resets” i don’t CARE. does CHARA??? your NARRATOR???

[mvrcellasarchive]

hm

[lesbiansplaining]

not to bring tiktok drama on tumblr but like every time a ‘scandal’ comes out with one of these ‘production companies’ that make fan films i always hope we’re finally gonna discuss how they professionalize something that should be an hobbyist endeavor… and yet every single time i’m disappointed.

[frothingatthemaw]

also. my grandma mentioned us staying here ANOTHER night. god. i think vess and i will place daggers in each other’s hearts if we don’t go home today. we are so fucking tired. and apparently we’re going to see a friend of my mom and grandma’s today and i can’t do more social things!!!! i get left out all the time anyways because i’m still viewed as a kid no matter what or i guess i’m not interesting enough? i dunno. i don’t wanna go and see someone and for me to be there in silence 98% of the time. it’s so fucking!!!! i feel like we would actually die if we stayed here tonight again. we need proper rest and last night was fucking horrible. ugh vess has been promised time and time again it would get to talk to his fp today and that we would be able to rest. and! that’s not happening very well! and it’s making me upset! just :( i dunno, we need to take care of ourselves but we seem like an asshole if we say that. we’re trying to be better at boundaries but :/ it feels like such an asshole thing to do sometimes.

[imogenkol]

Really wanted to finally do a Minthara romance with Yvaine’s playthrough and I thought I fucked it up but I knocked her out during the battle at the Grove just in case and now we’re in act 3 living our best murder wives lives and I couldn’t be happier