#though at one point in time i did believe that

[no-144444]

misguided mishap- l.norris

Day 5 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: One bed… what could go wrong? (SMUT 18+)

pairing: lando norris x fewtrell! fem! reader

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Long days and long flights. That was your life now. Yes, you were excited when Max had asked you to join Quadrant straight out of college as one of their PR/ marketing managers, but that was when you still thought it would be an office job. You liked to travel, in the sense that you liked seeing new cultures, countries and relaxing every now and then. What you didn’t like was the 4 days when you’d somehow been in 3 different time zones, trying to wrangle an overactive puppy in the form of a 21 year old skateboarder. Thus the joys of the job. 

Yet now, you were busy at a party making connections and ‘networking’ (Max’s favourite buzzword), too tired to even notice  Max and Lando’s eyes on you. You smiled and politely laughed at exactly the right moments in your conversation with Mark from some startup you’d never heard of or cared about. They both watched with soft smiles on their faces as you navigated the conversations simply, making everyone feel heard. Max was proud to say the least. 

Ever since you’d left for college, Lando hadn’t seen you. He’d always enjoyed your company as a kid, and he’d even thought he’d had a crush at one point, though Max did shut that down pretty quickly. But seeing you now? You were gorgeous. He couldn’t describe it. It could’ve been your personality, your smile, your eyes, or something fucking cosmic, but Lando was in love, and there was no stopping it. 

“Busy?” Lando smirked, handing you a G&T. You’d just finished up what you’d hoped to be your last business-related conversation of the night. 

You turned to him, startled, then smiled. “Hi Lan,” you gratefully took the drink with a nod. “Thank you.”

“It’s good to see you,” he leaned in closer, trying to not draw attention to the two of you. 

“It’s good to see you too,” you smiled back. “Congrats on your win last weekend!”

He smiled bashfully, proud of what his season had become. “Thanks,” he nodded, slyly wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “What have you been up to?”

“Working for Max,” you chuckled. “In Quadrant, of course, but still, I’m basically just Keegan’s PR manager,” you pointed out Keegan, who was busy trying to explain the theory of a kickflip to Max, who had been struggling with his skateboarding skills for some time. 

“You work in Quadrant?” he gawked. “I had no idea.”

You smiled. “That’s the sign of a good company, the boss has no clue what’s going on.”

He chuckled. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you nodded, noticing that little sparkle in his eyes as he watched you. 

“Why hasn’t Max been bringing you to races?” He questioned, taking a sip from his drink. 

“I’m busy now,” you shrugged. “Keegan is a handful.”

“Why didn’t you come to Ibiza?” 

You chuckled. “You must’ve really missed me if you’re asking this many questions,” someone knocked into you, pushing you even closer to him. He blushed and whether it was because of your words or the closeness of the two of you, he didn’t know. “Ibiza is a party place, I don’t like parties.”

“Why didn’t I see you at home then? I went back a few weeks ago.”

“I was home a few weeks ago. Maybe we just missed each other,” you suggested. 

“Not off galavanting with a boyfriend?” he teased. 

You leaned in ever closer, directly at his ear. “Why? Jealous?”

He smirked, shaking his head. “You are something else.”

“And to answer your question, no, no boyfriend. Too busy trying to wrangle Keegs,” you smiled as you watched Keegan burst out laughing with Max. “How is F1 going?”

“You haven't been watching?” he asked, chuckling. 

“I get too stressed knowing you’re in the car,” you explained. “I almost lost it when you crashed in Austria.” 

“Good to know you still care about little old me,” he grinned. “I promise you I’m safe.”

And something about the way he said it made you believe him. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the air, maybe it was the intoxicating closeness of him, maybe it was just always supposed to be like this, but you didn’t know. All you knew was that Lando was in front of you, with all of his attention on you, and you felt like falling straight into his trap. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you reminded him. “We both know you’re not safe in that car.”

He shrugged. “I can handle it.”

“I’m sure you can,” you looked up at him through batted eyelashes and smiled. “I think someone’s a fan,” you chuckled, drawing both your attention to the group of girls around his age who were losing their shit over the fact that he was here. 

“Please don’t make me talk to them,” he pleaded and you laughed. One of them slowly started approaching. 

“I don’t think you have a choice,” you smirked and stepped back, waving him a goodbye as his next conversation started. You didn’t notice that he followed you out of the party.

“Trying Irish goodbye?” he smirked, joining you in the elevator. 

“Fuck! You scared me!” you startled. “Do you have to be such a dick?!” 

He laughed, wrapping his arms around you as he apologised. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he mocked, using that stupid baby voice. 

You shoved him off with a playful smirk. “And yes, I’m tired. I just want to get to bed and lie down.”

“Don’t know how well Max will take you not saying goodnight,” he teased. “Might even come check on you.”

“Max can fuck off,” you sighed. “I’m a grown woman, and anyways, he wouldn’t come to the room he probably thinks I’m fucking someone.”

He almost did a double take when you said that, you caught it in the corner of your eye. 

“It’s a long story, but basically Max walked in on me having sex with this guy like 3 whole fucking years ago, and he always brings it up,” you explained. “He likes to hold it over my head.”

“How would he hold that over your head?”

You shrugged. “He thinks I make bad choices, that was one of them in his mind.”

“Was it a bad choice?” he asked, his eyes bearing into the side of your face. Anyone could feel the charged air in that tiny inclosed space. It made the fucking hair on your arms stand up, and gave you goosebumps on your legs. 

You felt your face heat, but answered simply. “No.”

“So then it wasn’t a bad choice,” he told you. “Max shouldn’t have any say in what you do. He’s your brother, not your keeper.”

“I know,” you answered simply, finally looking at him. “Thanks Lan.”

He offered a small smile and let you out of the elevator first. “What room are you?”

“213, you?” “213,” he read out the card the hotel had given him. “Well, that can’t be right.”

“I think it is, I was talking with the hotel staff and they said they’re fully booked up that people from the same companies have been forced to share. Did you come here under Quadrant or Mclaren?”

“Quadrant,” he sighed. You nodded. 

“It’s fine, we’ll survive for one night,” you dismissed the issue with a shrug. 

“One night? I’m here for a week,” he explained. 

“And I’m only here for tonight,” you yawned. “Off to Melbourne in the morning.”

“Break?” 

“Nah, visiting Keegan’s family and doing press stuff,” you explained. You opened the room and let out a sigh of pure rage. “One bed.” 

“I’ll take the floor,” he nodded but you stopped him. 

“We’re adults, we can share a fucking bed Lando,” you chuckled. 

And something about the way that you looked at him made him want to kiss you. The alcohol he’d consumed had definitely loosened his inhibitions and now he was solely focused on you. The way your hair fell, the way you talked to him, the smile on your lips, the way you weren’t shy with him. All of it made him fall deeper and deeper. He didn’t realise he was kissing you until you pulled on his hair, kissing him back. 

“Lan-” you pulled back slightly, but he just started kissing down your neck. “Close the door.”

He kicked it closed and kissed you again, hungry for more. “Jump,” he told you, you obliged and he caught you, carrying you over to the bed. 

“You sure you want this?” you asked as he started pulling off his clothes. 

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he smirked, pulling at your clothes. “You sure you want this?”

You just kissed him in response. He kissed down your neck, down your torso, and in between your legs. He took his time pulling off your trousers and underwear. Then he settled himself in front of you and smirked. 

“Such a pretty pussy baby,” he said before placing his mouth on your clit, sucking hard. You let out a yelp as he smirked against you, lapping at your folds, insatiable. It  made you delirious, how good it was, how good he felt. The way his tongue smoothed through your folds, sucking on your clit while he let’s out soft groans as if he’s the one getting sucked off right now. He had you squirming under him, holding your thighs in an iron-clad grip as he sped up. He got sloppier, more lewd sounds coming from the both of you as you got closer and closer to your peak. 

“Fuck, you’re dripping baby,” he groaned aginast your pussy, sending vibrations up your entire body. Your stomach clenched and contracted, and you came all over his face with a loud moan. You’d feel bad for the neighbours if you weren’t so horny. 

“Lan!” you groaned out, pulling his head away and back up to your face. He pressed kisses all over your neck, undoing his trouser to finally let his cock out. He was rock hard, he’d never been this turned on. “Fuck me, please fuck me,” you begged, and everything else fell away. He bottomed out with a moan as you bit into his shoulder to stop yourself from screaming, and when you nodded he started moving. 

You felt like heaven, gripping him like that. It made him feel like he couldn’t stop. Totally pussydrunk. “F-fuck baby,” he whimpered as he picked up the pace. 

“I’m-i’m gonna cum-fuck!” you moaned as he started hitting that gummy spot inside you, making you see fucking stars. “Yes-yes! There Lan, don’t fucking s-stop!”

He wasn’t planning on stopping. He picked up the pace even more, until the room was full of those lewd sounds from your wet pussy and his dirty mouth. 

“Y’like getting fucked like this? In hotel rooms just to l-leave the next morning?” he smirked as you squirmed under him. “Oh baby n-no, you’re not runnin’ away,” he grabbed one of your arms, pinning you down to the bed with a smirk. “Y’think they can hear us?”

That made you clamp down on him even harder, moaning even louder.

“You like that naughty girl?” he smirked, punctuating every word with a particularly hard thrust.  

“Y-yes!” you cried out, barely able to listen to what he was saying. It was all too much, too good, too little. 

“Fuck you’re perfect,” He groaned, biting into your neck as he willed himself not to cum. “Such a naughty girl.”

“Yours Lan, a-all yours,” you whined as you felt yourself getting closer. “I-I’m gonna cum!”

“You cum baby,” he huffed. “Give it to me.”

And he pushed you over the edge again. He kept fucking you through your orgasm, making you cum again as the world went blurry and your ears started ringing. Finally, he came inside you, triggering yet another orgasm as you screamed into a pillow. 

You fell asleep instantly, and he took it upon himself to get you cleaned up. He cleaned you up with a wet towel, put one of his hoodies on you, and kissed you goodnight before joining the bed and wrapping his arms around you. 

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You woke up like that, sore but satisfied with Lando beside you.  Then you realised. What had you done?

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taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen

[simplyvyn]

── .✦ small step, big step !

Sypnosis; bllk guys with a ballerina lover. <3

Multicharacter drabble: rin, isagi, bachira, nagi, reo

RIN ITOSHI

He does not believe it. How come he's only hearing this now? The fact you do ballet? And the fact there wasn't even a single clue. The first (not really) clue was when you shared a post on your profile of your ballet performance last week. And he.. well— stared at it for good about five seconds, till he scrolled through the pictures, comments and even the profile of who posted it. And by now its obvious that you have been doing ballet for a long time.

He mentioned about it when he was helping you make dinner at your apartment. "Hey.. so.. do you.. do ballet?" He questions shyly. Somehow. "Oh yea, yea! Have been for a really long time!" And he just stared at you for a secon till an automatic reply came out his mouth. "How come i did not know about this?" "Well you were busy with soccer, and i was busy supporting you with soccer so..!" You said, while shrugging and cooking fried rice. "Well you can be busy with ballet and i also can be busy supporting you with ballet, right?" He said, while looking at you. "You sure? You're quite devoted with your soccer career y'know." You replied while looking at him for a second. "But I'm devoted to you as well." Rin's automatic reply came out of his mouth once more. "..Alright. You're invited to my next performance then, so you can see how pro i am." You say with a smirk. And rin just deadpan at you.

ISAGI YOICHI

He adores how precious you look. Unlike Rin, he already knew, and its actually how he met you for the first time! It was from social media when he was scrolling, and found a video of your performance and he realized it was you! His classmate! and ever since that, he promised to you and himself, he will keep a streak with your performances.

Practice done, ate lunch done, dolled up (of course) done, and running to the stadium of your next performance. Before entering though, he fixed his hair, fixed his clothes, perfume, mirror and you know the gig. And then he entered and took a seat. He can't believe how gentle you dance at the floor with good balance. It so smooth and calming to watch. Sometimes, whenever watching you, he compares it to how he plays in his own sport. After your performance, you told him to go backstage, after you change. When you did he congratulated you and showered you with compliments. "Hi baby! Great performance today, as usual. And as usual, here, flowers." Throwing you bouquet at your arms, and you smiled at him while pointing at a bench full of flowers and gifts and he already knew where it came from. "It's fine. Yours is the most special, don't worry." Yehey! Isagi reacted.

MEGURU BACHIRA

Wow, this is just beauty and the beast at this point. You, a total beauty. Gently dancing, twirling, and taking small steps! And well! He's there with his own beast, roughly playing, dribbling and running big steps. Yet, with the polar opposite trope. You two still manage to fascinate each other and neither do you wanna stop. But this time, your not lovers yet. But you two definitely look like it.

There was a school ballet performance once again in your school and you were very excited and you were also invited. Hooray! But you're not the only one happy that you're gonna dance. When Bachira heard the news, he was smiling from ear to ear, cheeks with a pink tint, and he can already imagine your performance. Except, its obvious that its his imagination, with the way you look in his imagination. At your performance, when its about to start, you saw that bee-colored hair guy watching you and you tried your best to resist your smile and he waved very excitingly at you. And i mean very. And you waved back. After the performance, and a very tired body, leaving the school, you saw Bachira again and you couldn't control your smile again. As if your body was actually not tired. When Bachira saw you, he ran to you and hugged you while congratulating you. "Your dance was majestic as always! You should dance more! I like how you dance. Its very.. pretty." He said with a gentle smile this time while his hands were on your shoulders. "Definitely will for you." you said with a smile, ear to ear.

NAGI SEISHIRO

Just like Rin, he only found out recently yet already supported you! But yet, its so weird how you're so devoted in this sport. You make sure everything is perfect, smooth and clean. Days before your performances when he wakes up, he sees you doing stretches, yoga, practicing and more. Like, why do you need everything to be perfect, you doing a twirl was already perfect for him? 10000000 points, man!

"Babyyyy its, 6 in the morning, why are you doing pie–lates, early in the morning?" Nagi asked while peaking out from the door as he is in your bedroom. "Only 2 weeks till my next performance, sei. And, dear... Its PI–lates. How do you get high scores in your school?" You say while switching to another position. "The power of Choki of course. Its all by luck." "Yyyaaaa..! Luck..." you say while rolling your eyes. "Enough about these grades. Just go back to bed." He said while getting of the room to pick you up until you spoke. "If you move me from my position, i swear to god—" "Alrighty madam, please dont tie me up in backstage again until your performance is done. You know i hate waiting..." "I DON'T TIE YOU UP? I just push you in the couch and you yourself is the one who doesn't want to stand up!" You barked back. "Potato, tomato. Same thing."

REO MIKAGE

At this point, he is your manager. Makes sure your prepared and good to go on stage! Either way it will be more than worth it since he gets to watch you dance and the fact he's the one who dolls you up, picking your dress, fixing your hair and makeup, and the world sees it. If one is to watch your performance besides this man, they will see him with hearts in his eyes glowing, with a cheeky smile, and blush on his cheeks.

Your next performance is next week. You couldve prepared in the weekends but no... This man needs you to prepare your ballet dress for the whole month! "Let's get this one! Oh this one too! Now lets go buy shoes!" He said like a lightbulb lit up on top of his head. In instinct, he pulls you and the cart to the cashier to pay. Theres at least 3 ballet dresses. So i gues thats okay.. "Next month, we go shopping again, okay?" Nevermind, not okay. "Reo, i dont need all of these, i dont even have space in my apartment for all of these!" "Then i will keep them in stock in my penthouse. Plus you will stay there right?" You were unsure because a part of you was really.. scare of his parents so you just nod gently. "A-are you sure this is okay? Won't your parents cook me ALIVE?" You said while this rich man, grabs the shopping bags for you. Leaving outside. "It's fine~! My parents won't even notice this, dearest! And i bet they'll want to after they see your performance!" THEY? "W-what do you mean see my performance?! I can't even buy them tickets!" "Dont worry, darling, I did! Soo, shoes next?"

Taglist: @koieroeroero

TYSM FOR WAITING SO SO SORRY I MADE YOU WAIT FOR A LONG TIME.. (prioritized my school😓) made sure each part was realistic at least cuz idk ballet much😞

[sallieraptor]

[huge post alert]

(part 1 of my yapping)

[Episode 3] not to mention the way he didn't hesitate to pull Pomni back and try to free her from the spirit, even though he was terrified and had to listen to it reminding him of a painful loss. he simply just ignored it, and focused only on saving her.

he freed her, held her, and calmed her down.

and something that happens a lot whenever Kinger tries to solve a problem, is that he almost always ends up making it worse, or just not changing anything at all. and he knows it. he's mentally confused, he doesn't remember things well, it's difficult for him to stay sane and rational, but even so, he knows when he did something "wrong" or something that he "shouldn't" have done. he knows when he doesn't help, he knows when he makes things worse.

in the heat of the moment, he may not be good at understanding that he messed up in some way because of his constant mental confusion, but when he has the time to breathe, when he can recap things, when he can get to his safe place, he knows. and he feels guilty about it. I'm sure he mighty also feels worthless, and feel like a burden, but that's me talking.

the conclusion of it all is that Kinger can be seen as a character with a generic plot, the typical silly character who actually has a sad past that justifies his actions, but he is more than that.

Kinger is not just silly, he is the person seen as insane. the person in the crew who is reduced to the point of being nothing more than someone who has already lost their mind, but whose body is somehow still there.

Kinger is someone extremely brave, and extremely considerate of the others he cares about. he may be seen as a comic relief for his sudden shrieks, gasps and shaky body, but inside his stormy mind, he keeps all his loved ones protected under an umbrella. despite forgetting events, or even forgetting how to act, he always remembers them.

whether it's asking where a friend is; thinking about a friend that usually ends up missing a part of the adventure; or remembering another friend's adjustment to the world they're in.

Kinger is theoretically the unstable, unpredictable person who cannot be relied on, the person people laugh at, feel sorry for, or think they never want to become someone like him.

and it's extremely significant to know that the effect Kinger has when he holds his breath is to glow.

it's incredible how this can also be linked to the fact that he's not afraid of the dark. it's interesting to see that the representation of the thing that keeps him alive, his breath, when held, makes him glow.

I believe this shows that Kinger is the light of those around him. despite being seen as insane and crazy, he is the only one who can light the path for those who fall into the vastness of darkness. and it shows that he is someone who would be willing to stop breathing to guide those he loves.

I may have gotten it all wrong, this is just an interpretation that is subject to change of opinion, but I definitely love the depth that Kinger's character has, and I love that we could learn a little more about him.

[startanewdream]

A small Harry and Minerva moment, set after the final battle, in honour of Minerva's birthday.

*****

"I am not coming back," Harry blurts out. Next to him, Minerva's only reaction is a flicker on her spell: for a moment, the broken chairs of the Transfiguration classroom get extra pairs of legs that make them look like spiders.

When the chairs go back to normal, she turns to Harry with an impassive look.

"I imagined so."

Harry blinks. "You did? You never mentioned anything."

Minerva shares his surprise. "It was not my place to say anything. You are of age now."

"So all this time I've been helping here at Hogwarts, you just knew and went along with it?"

"Would it please you if I say I do not agree with your decision?"

"Yes, actually."

There's a hint of a smile on Minerva's lips. "I think you should come back to school."

"Oh." Harry looks down at his feet before moving to fix the bricks on the wall. Despite what he just told her, it's undeniable that this was not what Harry wanted to hear. "You think I am not ready?"

He sounds young. It's difficult to match this adult Harry — nearly eighteen-year-old, tall like his father, and spotting too many scars for his age — with the eleven-year-old who was sorted into her House, but that's the memory that resurfaces: Harry is eleven and he was caught out of his bed at night, losing 50 points to Gryffindor. He'd looked upset at the idea of being a disappointment.

That's how he looks now.

"You are of age," she repeats, her voice more tender than she allows herself around him, lest she betrays her soft spot for him. Harry's eyes are hungry as he turns to face her. "You faced more than any exam could measure — you faced things that cannot be measured." She thinks about the unconfirmed tales of a sacrifice and master of death, and it's not easy to match this with a boy worried about homework and deadlines. "From an educational point of view, I believe your time at Hogwarts has concluded."

Harry watches her. "But?" He guesses.

She allows herself a little smile. "But education is not all Hogwarts has to offer." She remembers seeing that scrawny kid laughing as he first took flight on a school broomstick; three friends sitting outside on a winter afternoon, bundling up next to a warm blue fire and sharing tales; a boy and his girlfriend, walking hand-in-hand through the halls, oblivious to any gossip. "I would be glad if you returned only to enjoy your Seventh Year as a common student. No threat. No drama. Just school."

"Just school," he repeats, his gaze far away now as if he could see it. Then Harry blinks. "Hermione and Ginny are coming back. Ron is not, though."

Minerva nods. She won't say it, but sometimes she wonders if the fact that Ron Weasley isn't returning isn't what's weighing most on Harry. Inseparable like brothers. Like father, like son.

"Do you think my parents would be okay with it?"

This time, the question baffles her; she's glad she wasn't transforming anything because it might have been disastrous.

"I do not believe I am qualified to answer this, Harry," she says.

"Ah, it's just —" He holds the back of his head, ruffling his hair, unaware that this was what James did when he was embarrassed. "You are one of the last people that knew them."

And this, as far as Minerva is concerned, is a terrible thing. James and Lily would be only thirty-eight if they were alive. She has lived now nearly four times what they did; how is it that there are now so few people that knew them?

Harry looks young once again. She knows he's made up his mind — and like Lily, he's adamant once he's decided something —, so this need for validation isn't what she associates with the young man she saw standing up to Voldemort one month ago.

But for all his deeds, Harry is just a boy who grew up longing for his parents — parents who had loved him fiercely, she knows. She doubts Harry might ever do anything that James and Lily wouldn't support — God knows Minerva supports him, and she isn't even his relative — but she also thinks they would insist that Harry return to his final year.

Seventh Year. That had been the year when James and Lily were Head Boy and Head Girl, and the future had looked promising to both. That had been the year when they had started dating; when the darkness of the war hadn't yet tinted their lives. When they had been the happiest. How could they not want the same for Harry?

But that's not what she tells him. "Yes," she lies calmly. "James and Lily would approve it."

Harry breathes easily. "Thanks." He moves to fix another desk, not noticing how, a long time ago, someone carved JP+LE in the wood.

Harry's spellwork is good. He might enjoy some refinement, but she doubts he will be fixing desks in his future job, so instead of commenting on it, she just lets it slide.

"Of course," she notes with a hint of humour, "if you came back, it would not have been all fun. I would have high expectations for you."

"Quidditch?" Harry guesses. "I'd say that Gryffindor is safe in Ginny's hands."

"I enjoy the Quidditch trophy in my office," she agrees. "But alas I was thinking about another responsibility. A Head Boy badge would suit you." Harry's eyes widen; she is once more sorry for not insisting harder with Albus that Harry should have been made prefect. "As it did your parents."

Harry smiles. "I would enjoy that."

"There are tons of paperwork, I might warn you — though not unlike being an Auror." Harry chuckles. "But either way, Harry, your parents would have been proud."

As I am proud of you, she thinks.

[brucewaynehater101]

I’d love to see more of the Emotional Marks AU. I want to see the reveal and the Bats having the realization that just because they’re doing better /now/, it doesn’t fix the damage they did before. And that they can’t force things to heal. Healing takes time.

Post being mentioned is here

What I'm curious about is if it's a human only thing or if others (like Kyrptonians, Martians, Atlanteans, etc.) also get marks.

Anyways, here's some more stuff I thought of. As always, take as little or as much as you'd like of it ^^

Tim never takes off the object hiding his marks, even for himself. It's part habit and part desperation to never see how much his loved ones have actually hurt him.

He's unique in that he isn't sure where most of his marks come from. People usually see the marks within 24 hours of their appearance. Tim has gone years between seeing his own marked skin.

As I've stated before, the object works like glamor. Therefore, those with enough magic power would be able to see past it. This is part of why Tim wanted pants for the Robin uniform (any magicians working with Robin would see the moment they saw any of Tim's bare skin). Tim is very lucky the marks on his face only appeared a bit before he became Red Robin (and part of his reason for the cowl).

Marks typically stay away from the face. They only appear there if symbolically significant or if the marks are running out of space elsewhere on the body. Bart and Kon dying really did a number on Tim even though it wasn't their fault.

YJ and Dick have helped soothe some of the marks left behind by the Drakes (and Bruce too if you want good dad Bruce). Quite a bit have even fully disappeared due to them.

Tim still collected them like Halloween candy, though.

Major marks and their placement [though feel free to offer different ideas]:

Bruce calling Tim "Jason" - x on the back of neck

16th birthday - Major gash on right temple hidden by hair

Janet dying - splintering cracks along hand (bigger version of the one Janet fakes)

Jack coma then death - line in left calf then up to mid back of thigh

Bart dying - right side from under armpit to end of ribs gash

Kon dying - giant oval over sternum

Jason's TT attack - left foot/ankle cracks

Damian's attacks - stomach area

Losing Robin - largest slash diagonal across back (left shoulder to right hip)

There's more marks, but the ones on his face are caused by people not believing in him [this is not a "they should have" argument. It would have hurt regardless of what they should have done]

Hmm... So, the reveal? I'm thinking a magician. This would be after Tim switches back to just a mask and no cowl. His face marks would be on display for magicians but no one else. He, wrongly, assumed he'd be fine.

He's playing nice with the Bats at this point, even if he doesn't fully trust them. He loves them and wants to keep the peace. He'd never voluntarily show them his marks or tell them about it.

The Bats are being nicer under the idea that their assumptions about markless were incorrect. It weirds Tim out and usually has him ghosting them for a few days if they try to initiate feeling conversations with him. He kind of wishes they would just go back to normal.

It's a few months of this behavior before some magician makes a remark about Tim's facial marks. Something along the lines of, "You okay, Red? You're aware of how dangerous it is for marks to progress as far as the face, right?"

Cause what happens when there's no more room for marks? Drastic decrease in physical health. Could lead to death.

The Bats overhear and promptly freak the fuck out again.

Tim, who has been dealing with their bullshit for the last few months and doesn't want to deal with the confrontation, disappears. He's waiting for them to process their shit before returning [he loves them but does not want to be caught in that fucking whirlwind. Bats notoriously do not handle emotions well]

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 3: Getting a Pet

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Finding a pet/Getting a pet (it was originally finding a pet, but I changed things up a bit)

Summary: You think it's time for you and Matt to get a cat.

Warnings: Fluff. Established relationship. Cats. Mentions of future children.

Word Count: 2k

A/n: This is solely based on me wanting a cat. I did have a different version of this already written, decided I didn't like it, and whipped this up in, like, two hours today. I hope you're not mad at me, but the first draft really wasn't it, so I decided to interpret the prompt differently/change it.

Read Me On AO3!

It’s been three years since Matt Murdock stumbled into your life, broken and bruised. A normal person would have run if they had seen The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen knock at their window, but not you. You invited him in and fixed him to the best of your abilities. 

Three years ago, you met the man you fell head over heels in love with. The man who broke your heart then put it back together. The man who once believed he would never love again, that he didn’t deserve it, finally allowed himself to find some peace in your arms. Comfort. Love. 

You moved in together two years ago, and you haven’t looked back since. In fact, you only seem to be moving forward. 

Since he’s been with you, he has been using you as an excuse to Foggy and Karen for why he doesn’t need a dog. He thought he would never have to worry about getting a pet ever again. Until a week ago. 

You were sitting on the couch, head resting on his chest to listen to the steady beating of his heart, when you suddenly blurted out, “I think we should get a cat.”

Suddenly, Matt didn’t have to worry about telling people why he didn’t need a dog anymore, but he had to face you, the love of his life, and talk to you about getting a cat. 

Up to that point, you hadn’t often seen him too stunned to speak, and the times you had, he was facing a greater evil—a greater evil than a cat. 

“What?” you remember him asking.

You nodded against his chest. “Dead serious,” you said, lifting your head to look up at him. You had that determined look on your face, the one that always made Matt’s defenses crumble like wet paper. He could feel it as he brushed his fingers over your soft skin, trying to gauge what you were thinking. 

“I’ve always wanted one,” you continued your reasoning, “and I think we’re ready. You know… for a fur baby.”

Because the idea of a baby was and still is very far in the future.

Matt could feel the excitement radiating off of you that night, and though he had never imagined himself as a cat person, there was no denying he was wrapped around your finger. “You really want a cat?” he asked. 

“I do,” you answered, with an almost childlike excitement.

“I just… are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, it’s a cat,” he emphasized.

“Your point being?”

“They’re… stealthy. And needy, sometimes.” That was the only argument he could come up with. 

You snorted at that. “So, they’re you,” you said, “just… smaller.”

Matt opened his mouth, closing it just as fast. You got him, fair and square. “Alright, I can respect that,” he said.

It was so serious to you that you sat up straighter to look at him. “Of course you would. Think about it. They’re independent, low-maintenance, and they purr. Plus, Foggy and Karen will forever shut up about you getting a guide dog ‘cause we’ll already have a cat,” you said.

He couldn’t possibly argue with that logic. But deep down, he knew. He knew the moment you brought a cat home, he’d be doomed. But he couldn’t say no to you.

“Okay, fine,” he caved, though the smile tugging at his lips gave him away. “Let’s get a cat.”

Fast forward a week, and you have dragged him to one of New York’s animal shelters to find a cat. Fall has fully settled over the city, the air crisp with a slight chill, and the streets lined with leaves of red, orange, and yellow. Matt’s hand is intertwined with yours as you step inside, and though he tries his best to act casual, you can feel the subtle tension in him. The smell of hay and litter toy with his heightened senses. It’s a lot all at once, but he promised that for you, he would do anything. 

This is a decision you will have to make together. So, he forces a smile when you look at him with that worried crease between your brows, and he tells you it’s okay. He’s got this. You choose to believe him. 

“This is exciting,” you murmur as a volunteer leads you through to the room where the cats are held. “We’re getting a cat!” You want to jump up and down and screech like a banshee, that’s how happy you are he said yes, even though you know he did it more for you than for himself, but if you start acting crazy now, they might never let you leave. 

“I like to say, ‘let the cat choose you’,” the volunteer says once you have reached your destination. “So, please, take your time. Also,” she turns around again, toward Matt, “if one of them tries to nibble on your cane, just tell them no.”

You swallow a giggle that threatens to escape. “Thanks,” you smile at her as she leaves, leaving you alone in a room full of… well, cats. 

You have never been closer to heaven. 

“I don’t want anyone nibbling on my cane,” Matt mutters beside you.

You shake your head, laughing. “Relax. They’re just cats.”

Cats of all shapes, sizes, and colors lounge around the room, some curled up in cozy beds, others batting lazily at toys hanging from strings. You take note of the numerous cat trees, some attached to the wall. It looks like a feline paradise. 

A few cats are eyeing you already, but most of them seem rather unimpressed. They must get a lot of potential new parents every day. 

Matt can feel your pulse quicken as you take a few steps forward, letting go of his hand to crouch down near one of the more adventurous kittens—a fluffy gray one with bright eyes.

“Hi,” you almost squeak, reaching out carefully to offer your hand. The kitten sniffs at your fingers before deciding to nuzzle into them. “Oh, you’re so cute. What’s your name?” You read the tag around his neck. “Bruno. Nice to meet you.” You’re not sure why you are telling him your name, but it seems like the right thing to do. 

You feel so warm inside, like you are taking the one step you have been wanting to take from the start. Getting a pet with the man of your dreams. Though you seem to be enjoying yourself a lot more than Matt is. 

He’s hesitant as he steps closer, folding his cane now that he is out of anyone’s eyesight, and he tilts his head slightly to listen to the kitten’s movements—the soft rustle of his fur, the tiny pitter-patter of paws on the floor, and the barely audible purring that you seem to be coaxing from him.

He can’t deny that he is a little jealous. You’re so enamored with him. If he could purr, he would.

“This was a great idea,” you say, turning to grin at Matt, who still hasn’t quite moved past the threshold of the room. You can tell he’s trying to maintain his usual composed demeanor, but his body language betrays him. 

It’s funny to see your usually so stoic boyfriend nervous and almost scared of a few tiny kittens. The smell must be overwhelming, you know, but it can’t be the only thing holding him back.

“Matt,” you hold out a hand for him to take, “come on, don’t be shy. They’re not gonna bite.”

“Maybe not bite,” he says.

“You fight crime on a nightly basis, and you’re scared of cats?”

He frowns. “I’m not scared.”

“Sure,” you say. With a smile, you take his hand in yours again, guiding him toward a small black kitten that’s been quietly observing from a perch by the window. You’re not sure why, but the little guy reminds you of him. Calm, reserved, but always alert. 

The kitten’s sleek fur gleams in the light, and when you bring Matt closer, he lets out a tiny, curious meow. The volunteer said to let the cats choose you, but you have never seen a more beautiful specimen—except for the human-cat right next to you.

“Meet potential fur baby number two,” you murmur.

You guide his hand toward the kitten.

Matt crouches down beside you, but he’s hesitant. For a second, you think he’s going to pull back, but then the kitten nuzzles right into his hand, and he stops dead in his tracks.

A soft smile spreads across Matt’s face—one of those rare, unguarded smiles that makes your heart flutter. 

“He likes you…”

He chuckles softly. “I don’t know… seems like this one might be too calm for me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Too calm? Suddenly, you want a high-maintenance cat? A second ago, you wouldn’t even touch him.”

“Just saying… might be nice to have a challenge.”

“I think we, but especially you, have enough challenges in your life,” you retort. “Maybe a calm cat is exactly what we need.”

He doesn’t respond, just keeps stroking the kitten’s fur as he curls up even more. Matt has something about you that puts both humans and cats at ease, you notice. The same thing that makes you want to curl up in his arms is making this tiny kitten trust him after not even a minute together. You watch the scene unfold, your heart swelling with affection. He’s so good at this.

You join in eventually. The kitten doesn’t shy away; he seems oddly content with the two of you already.

“So, what do you think?” you ask softly after a moment.

Matt tilts his head, considering, and for a second, you wonder if he’s really thinking about the question or if he’s just stalling. But then, he lets out a quiet sigh and says, “I don’t know… what do you think?”

You smile. He’s been through so much, been so used to carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Something as simple as getting a pet—something that brings warmth and comfort—might feel strange to him. 

You remember how it was when you started growing closer. When he asked you to move in with him. When he told you he loved you after you told him first, afraid you might still slip away from him as most people in his life have. Dealing with something small and fragile scares him. Having something to look after and care for scares him. Maybe that’s why you haven’t talked about children yet; he’s scared of making a mistake, of hurting the people he loves and has sworn to protect. But that’s not who Matt Murdock is to anyone but himself.

“I think,” you say, slipping your arm through his and leaning your head against his shoulder, “that you deserve everything good in your life. That’s why you should decide.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingers still brushing through the kitten’s fur. Finally, he nods, and the smile on his face turns just a little softer, a little more real.

“I love you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I love you too.”

The kitten meows. His collar says ‘Pumpkin’, and that is oddly on the nose, you think. The two of you, finding a cat in October, and his name is Pumpkin. 

Matt chuckles. “Okay, I heard that.” And then, turning toward you, he says, “Let’s take him home.”

Your face lights up. “Yeah?” you ask.

“Yeah. I mean, I already have the best thing I could have in the world, right here,” his chin tips toward you, “but… you’re right. We could use a little calm in our life.”

You press a kiss on his shoulder. “Then let’s do this. Let’s take him home.”

Pumpkin. 

Pumpkin Murdock. 

That doesn’t sound so bad. Now all you need is his last name, too. 

Soon.

Very soon. 

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler

[romanscool]

MAXIEL #9 KISS PROMPT OMG

#9: a kiss to shut them up - maxiel: sfw!

this was so fun to write, thanks a lot for the ask!!

anyways, enjoy.

->

Daniel knows he shouldn’t have trusted Max on this one. Not when it involved Max promising he wouldn’t get mad after a game of padel.

Because, the thing is, Max is shit at padel. He’s always been, and most likely will always be, because it’s been almost ten years of playing every Grand Prix week end and he still hasn’t won a game yet. Even against Lando, which says something. But. It’s not like Daniel is any better, though he often finds himself to be flexier than Max is, catching balls that his padel-teammate would never have, and Max does have a habit of pointing it out after. That Daniel is very souple. 

But, anyway. All this to say, Daniel should definitely not have trusted Max when he said that padel was always fun, even if they lost. Definitely even less when Max added maybe they might even win this time. Yeah, that should have been a hint for how this was going to end. 

They lost. Obviously. Except now, Daniel has to deal with a very frustrated Max who, when in this state, finds rambling very relieving.

« -d you even see what he did? Fucking Pierre always with his snarky comment, distracting us. He was very obviously cheating, I cannot believe he would even do that in that way. But, he was teamed up with Charles, so really, I shouldn’t even be fucking surprised ‘cause those two always do weird shit when they’re together-, »

Daniel always notices that Max’s accent pops out more when he’s angry. His red plushy lips lets out more lisp, and all the ‘th’ become ’t’, which makes him sound a little funny, and also a little harsher than he probably means to be, though right now, Daniel thinks he’d like to actually spit those ’t’s as Pierre and Charles. Fucking padel pair that always wins. Daniel should really, really have seen this one coming. 

They’re walking through the paddock now, about to get into their separate garages to start he Singapore qualification session, and apparently, Max still isn’t over their little game of padel last night. He’s been shooting death glares at any Alpine employee, which isn’t very fair, but it’s very Max, so Daniel didn’t comment on it. Since 10pm last night, he has let Max make big ranting gestures in front of him and explain everything that has been wrong with the way Pierre and Charles have played, how their strategy were ‘not fair play, and pretty fucking trying to fuck them up’ - Max’s words -. 

And Daniel is still listening and listening, trying to get into race mode, but he can’t, because God, he’s starting to understand where Max is coming from, because Pierre had made that little racket move to Daniel, that little wave just before he hit the ball, and that had distracted Daniel from the game, and god, why is Max making sense right now-

« -no, ‘cause, like, he should not have hit the ball this way, » Max is still gesturing angrily at whatever in front of him, eyes fixated on the ground, then the ceiling, then Daniel’s face and again on the ceiling, « because it made a little curve that no one could have ever thrown back! It’s so unfair, and Charles has always been this way, always throwing dirty moves that make us unable to fight back, always pushing me off track when I was beginning to win, and we were going to win last night, I felt it, but Charles with his fucking Pierre were so-, » 

Daniel kisses him. Like, hands on either side of his neck, tongue pushing past his lips and hips flush against each other’s kissing, and God, Max is still trying to speak when Daniel pulls away, so Daniel kisses him again, just to make sure he’ll shut up, because Daniel can’t keep listening to this and risk getting into unnecessary fights with an impossible opponent that is Ferrari and a team that’s been at the back of the grid for most the year, he’s supposed to be right at the middle, sandwiched between them. Not fighting. 

Max is the one to break the kiss this time, eyes big and round, breath a little panting from either his rant or the kiss, and Daniel really wishes it’s the kiss, and his lips a slightly parted, red and blotchy just under the freckle that sits so prettily, but they’re starting to move again, to form words, « Daniel, I do not-, » so Daniel has to kiss them quiet again. Max keeps trying to talk, gently but actually not very so, almost biting into Daniel’s lips as he does so, so Daniel puts a hand to his scalp, just behind the ear, rubbing soft circular motion there, and-

Max melts a bit after that. Daniel feels his shoulder slump slightly under his touch, his knees bend just a little and one of his hands settle in Daniel’s curls, and the other on his waist. He’s not trying to pull away anymore, not trying to speak, to argue, if anything, he’s pulling in, in, in, taking Daniel in his arms fully, touching everywhere, and now Daniel pulls away again, because he suddenly remembers they’re minutes away from qualifications and he’s got to get his head in race mode, not go easy on a Red Bull that he will most likely never cross, but who knows. 

Daniel has got to stop being so easily distracted. 

ps: might do an nsfw version of this prompt to post on ao3 for kinktober, let me know if you'd be interested!!

[nanamiscocksleeve]

When The Snow Melts

Warnings: MDNI, soft sex, virginity loss, angst, and some spoilers for those who aren't familiar with Zayne's lore. A/n: Curiosity got the best of me. I wasn't playing LaDS when the Master of Fate card came out so I went to YouTube and immediately regretted it. Like can this man not catch a break? He sacrifices himself again? I couldn't leave it, so this me, correcting the wrong. A fix-it fic if you will. Because I need Zayne to win, at least once. Also, since Zayne appears according to how MC perceives him, I do believe he will have aged exactly as she has.

The night is bright, and the small cobbled lane you walk on is lit with lamps. The streets are bustling with life. The feeling of excitement, togetherness, and aromatic food graces the air as you wander closer to the town square. Another festival, similar, yet not similar, to the countless ones you’ve seen with your keen eyes. 

You’d wanted to be in company, maybe see the world when you were young, and the curse that was also a blessing was granted. Your body, now wispy and weathered from the years spent wandering cannot move as quickly as you used to, the ever-reminding aches in your joints, the beginning of arthritis weighing down in your bones. Yet you still had a zest for life. Because what else could you do but seek, and take in everything that life had to offer? How could you not? Because it was the grace of the god that allowed it and the terrible price that was paid for you to experience it.

It had been decades since you had last seen the god. You had traversed as far as you could, carrying your umbrella with the everlasting snow coating it like wool on a freshly birthed lamb. The things you had witnessed! Ships with sails as tall as oak trees, strangely flavored meats and delectable sweets, festivals where people had danced, music from instruments brought in from faraway strange lands. You had eaten, traveled, danced, and sung, picking up small jobs to afford simple pleasures. You were a quick learner. Once you were a seamstress helping a small garment shop, another time a jewel polisher. You had even worked as an errand maid for an elderly couple who were profuse with their thanks and offered you a roof over your head for a short while. But staying in one place wasn’t an option. You had to keep looking after all. How else would you find him again?

As your feet carried you into the square, a burst of light and color filled your vision. It’s so lively, as the people flock to the different food carts, admiring the small handicraft booths, and singing folk songs well known to all those who grew up in this region. Children joyfully chased each other, dressed warmly in bright clothes. A hint of winter was already in the air. Based on what you had observed, this festival was celebrating the end of the harvest season, probably one of the last for this year until the harsh snowfall of winter faded. The breeze, not quite chilly enough to make you shiver, felt comforting on your face. 

You supposed you could work as a midwife again. Midwifery was good work, reliable since winter did not stop the delivery of children into the world. It could also guarantee a place to stay if you played your cards right, though you hated staying in one place. The nomadic lifestyle you had adopted suited you. And the winters made you nostalgic. 

It made you long for those days before you had picked up this umbrella and set off to see the world. Of amber eyes flecked with green, like the jars of whiskey at the inns when the early morning sunlight brushes against them, bringing forth colors hidden in the dark glass. Or of soft hands, covered in scars, and whispers in your ear of sleep, of priestesses calling gods down to earth to make love to them. Sometimes the memories consume you to the point of anger.  How dare he leave you? With no explanation as to what his blessing was. 

You vaguely recall those days, back when your fingers weren’t gnarled and wrinkled, your face unblemished by the years in the sun. All spells have limitations, he had said. But he also said he had taken care to make the spell extra strong since you were particularly clumsy. The snow had to melt sometime…didn’t it?

A drum begins to pound in the distance, and the crowd gathers around the stage that had been set up at the far end of the square. You halt at one of the carts to buy some fried chicken skewers. The vendor looks curiously at your umbrella, something you have grown accustomed to over the years. After all, snow that doesn’t melt was bound to bring questions. You had woven a different story for each city you had passed through, sometimes recycling them when you didn’t have the creativity to spin a new one. Initially hesitant to reveal how the umbrella with the everlasting snow had come into your possession, you had tried to pass it off as a novelty accessory, crafting tales of snowy mountains and how it was all the rage in those areas.

As the years passed by, your tongue had loosened. Or perhaps the indignation of him disappearing had made you reckless. Although you still hadn’t said the full story, you’d managed to finally say it was a blessing from a god, shocking the non-believers by letting them touch the snow, their gasps of awe as the cold, wet, powder clung to their fingers falling satisfyingly on your ears. Tonight, however, you were in no mood to entertain strangers. You smile politely as you hand over your coins to the vendor, take the food, and walk away towards the stage. 

The sounds of a flute and an erhu accompany the drum. Elaborately dressed dancers are swirling in coordinated grace on the stage, enacting a scene from an old tale; the common man sending off the goddess of harvest, thanking her for her blessings that year, and praying to the god of winter, that he be merciful to them and allow them to live to see another spring.

You were skeptical if these rituals really worked. The first autumn after you had been gifted the umbrella when the air started to show signs of change, you had danced, danced amongst the trees that were close to shedding their vividly colored leaves of red, mustard, and yellow. You had prayed your heart out, prayed so hard, danced so long that the soles of your shoes had almost worn out. You had danced till you had collapsed with exhaustion, falling asleep on the leafy floor. You had been so sure that it would work, that he would show himself, and when you awoke, it was with a heartrending pang that you realized you were alone. It hadn’t worked. Wherever he was, the god of the snow wasn’t visible to your eyes. It was the first time you had allowed yourself to cry in all those months. Had he really believed this was the better choice? That to leave you behind without telling you what was going to happen to him would make you happier? That was the worst part; not knowing if he was alive, existing somewhere you couldn’t journey to, or if he had given all his power into making the snow that had fueled your existence, and lost himself with it. 

The music becomes faster and the dancers move until the stage is a blur of color. The audience claps as their movements become sharp, with an artistic precision that only years of practice could hone. The last note quavers from the flute and rises into the night air. Cheers and whistles erupt all around you. It was a beautiful performance no doubt, but despite finding it captivating, it also left you feeling hollow. Finishing the last of your fried chicken, you begin to wander amongst the townspeople, enquiring about work that could be had for the winter.

By the time the square had cleared up, and the last of the festival-goers had returned home, you had secured a job; a bakery was in desperate need of an extra set of hands. The pay wasn’t much but the woman had offered food and board and you had accepted graciously. As you sit on the stone steps of your latest lodgings, you gaze at the moon. 

You want to not blame him, to not feel this heavy weight that you’ve carried inside your chest. You know you should be grateful for his sacrifice which enabled you to see so much of the world, and at the least, you weren’t alone. The incident with the people in your village was a distant memory, replaced with so many more pleasant rememberings. Plucking apples from an orchard with trees growing as far as the eyes could see. The feeling of a newborn baby, screaming with the rage of life and the mother wiping tears of joy while offering you her thanks. The herbalist with his toothless smile as he showed you which plants were medicinal and which were poison as you plucked various flowers and leaves and dug the earth for rhizomes of turmeric and ginger. 

You were a well-traveled woman, knowledgeable in all aspects, a rare luxury during this time, you knew. Yet for each memory that stayed clearly in your mind, there was a sense of loss. Everything tied back to him, and you couldn’t bring yourself to forget him, even in your old age, and even with the passage of time. 

The spicy bun the baker had offered you was good. You savored its flavor on your tongue, naming the constellations visible in the sky as you did so, the short astronomy lesson from a young scholar in some past time proving useful. It must be close to midnight based on how still the night is, the whispering rustle of dead leaves as they skitter across the ground audible in the background. With a sigh, you carefully get to your feet, your joints creaking as you rise. As you reach for your umbrella, you pause, fingertips hovering over the handle.

Surely you were imagining it? It must be a trick of the moonlight. The last of the lamps were dying, the faint light casting shadows across the walls of the dwellings. Yet your aged eyes couldn’t shake off the feeling. You stare intently at the umbrella, more so, at the snow perched on its upper slope. A fine sheen of condensation coated the umbrella, surrounding the powdery snow. Had you somehow gotten the umbrella wet? You kneel, observing with fascination as some of the condensation gathers, becoming fat droplets of precipitation, and rolling off the sides.

You’re awestruck. In all your years, the snow had never melted. It had never lessened nor increased but always stayed the same. But now you can see how the powder was turning watery, steadily dripping down into the cold ground. You trace a fingertip on the trails of moisture along the sides of the umbrella, and that’s when you hear it; the unmistakable twang of a guqin. 

You had never encountered a guqin again, not since the night he had played one while you danced for him. The unmistakable notes now begin to form a melody. You look out into the empty street and see nothing. But the song was filling your body like the warmth of a fireplace. Your limbs involuntarily stretch out as your eyes close, remembering the movements you had learned so long ago and sworn to never repeat after the failed attempt to call down the god. Your legs feel unsteady, your hands clumsy, a far cry from the controlled accuracy of the stage dancers. Your joints begin to sear as you move, unable to stop the actions. Oh how sweetly the instrument sang to you!

There’s a sharp pain in your heart, not from the ache of moving your tired extremities, but from the grief bottled up, adding on year after year. There’s resentment, but underneath it all, there’s a strong yearning you’re unable to put into words. How do you describe it? The loss of the only person who seemed to understand you, who helped you control your power?

You knew he did something when he placed his spell because, since that day, you hadn’t been able to harness your powers ever again. He had ensured you could live your life as a normal human being. Before knowing him you would have done anything to not have the power. But the cost that came with it was too much to bear. You weren’t alone, yet you were alone. So of all the days, why was the guqin playing now?

Tears roll down your cheeks as you dance, letting loose your sorrow to the crisp night breeze. You feel like each nerve in your body is frayed, all consumed with the bits of memories you had of him. It takes you a moment to realize you’re not dancing anymore. The guqin has stopped playing. You’re standing in a pose, your head lowered, facing the steps you had been sitting on, and the umbrella leaning against them. Shock passes through you. 

The umbrella was completely devoid of snow. The only evidence it was there was the puddle of water that had gathered beneath it, muddying the grass. 

“Why are you so surprised?”

Your heart skips a beat, then begins to hammer in your chest like a frantic bird trapped in a cage. The deep baritone voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm calls out to you gently. You can’t seem to be able to move. 

“It can’t be.” You murmur, gripping your elbows, trying to calm yourself. “It can’t be. I’m dreaming.”

“What are dreams if not another reality?”

It takes all the effort in your body to not collapse to the ground as a sobbing mess. You turn slowly, as though giving the voice a chance to admit it was a figment of your imagination but it doesn’t happen. Your breath catches in your throat as you see him, at last.

His dark hair has tinges of gray in it, and crow’s feet are visible near the corners of his eyes, but the gentle upwards curve of his lips, the broad shoulders, and his pointed chin are all recognizably familiar. 

“Zayne?” You let his name fall from your lips, sounding like a strange word, lost to your vocabulary from the years of disuse. 

He nods, then stretches out a hand to you. At first, you’re at a loss about what you should do, then, with as much speed as your wizened knees allow, you run to him. He’s solid and grounding, his arms wrapping around you tightly. A brief lick of rage crosses through you, but when you open your mouth to let loose your diatribe, all that comes out is a sob. Your tears flow freely, staining his robes, and you feel his gloved hands gently combing through your hair.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, his chin resting on top of your head.

“Why not tell me?” Your words are choked, your body shivering as you cry. 

Zayne leads you to the steps and helps you sit before occupying the space next to you. He leans you against him, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder as he takes one of your hands between both of his. He sighs deeply and his voice, though calm, is filled with regret as he speaks. 

“How could I tell you? What would I have said? How do you tell someone special to you that their life was in danger?”

You blink back tears. “Danger?”

“There was a powerful entity after you. I did what I needed to do to protect you.”

“Why was it after me?”

Zayne pauses, as though considering how to word his response. “It was convinced you would bring about a cataclysm, and the only way to prevent it was to take your life.”

“But… I don’t understand. How did your spell prevent this? Now that it’s worn off, won’t it come after me again?”

“No.” Zayne wraps his arms around you, his body bringing warmth into yours. “Even cataclysms go away if given enough time. But the harder part was figuring out how to suppress your abilities until that time passed.” He sighs deeply, gathering you close. “The spell on the umbrella was the only solution I could think of, without restricting your freedom. Regrettably, sealing your power meant taking away your ability to perceive me. I never intended to make it permanent.”

“Why not tell me?” You repeat the question. Zayne raises an eyebrow.

“If I had told you the spell would wear off, would you have left the mountain?” He brushes your cheek with his thumb as he takes in your face, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I know you. You would have spent all these years in isolation, waiting for me. I didn’t want you to miss the opportunity to live. A normal life seemed like the best option I could give you until enough time had passed.”

You’re silent as you let his words sink into you. After a gap, you whisper, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” His thumb caresses each of your fingertips in turn. “But know that I watched over you every day. I saw the world through your eyes and felt your sense of wonderment in my heart. The day you danced so hard for me that you almost fainted from exhaustion-” Zayne draws in a breath and his voice quivers as he continues. “I was in tears. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort you. I was there, separated by a veil, but I felt your pain.”

“That was the year the frost came early.” You recall the memory. 

“Indeed. I couldn’t control my grief. I didn’t know how else to let you know I was there, except to cover the world with snow.”

You glance over at the umbrella. “Will you disappear again?”

“Not unless you want me to.” One of his large hands rests on your knee. “I understand I’ve angered you by acting without telling you everything. Is it enough that you don’t want me around?”

You shake your head no. Your momentary anger with him had faded, like the night giving way to the sunrise. “There’s nothing that could keep me from wanting you. I made many acquaintances throughout my life, but the one person’s companionship I yearned for was yours.”

“My beloved snowflake.” Zayne embraces you tenderly. “It was fate that led you to me on the mountain that day. And It was fate that finally broke the spell. We’re all bound by it, even me.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. Otherwise, do you think I would have kept you sealed for so long? Even gods must play by fate’s rules.”

Silence falls between you both,  the breeze ruffling your clothes. You become acutely aware that he’s gazing at you, and when you turn to look at him, there’s such tenderness in his eyes that it makes you blush, even at this age. 

“You’re beautiful,” he utters, tucking strands of stray hair behind your ears. The amber in his eyes glows as you stare back, captivated by how handsome he is. Your memory didn’t do him justice. You cup his cheek. 

“Is this our happily ever after?”

“It can be if we choose it to be.”

“I do. Wholeheartedly.”

Sparks fly between you and almost as if the both of you are following a rhythm, your lips find each other in the darkness. It’s odd because, in the passing years, you hadn’t imagined what his lips would feel like against yours. You had fantasized about lying next to him, listening to his heartbeat, about taking long, leisurely strolls while holding hands, and about the possibility of letting him rest on your lap while you played with his thick locks of hair.

Now you’re glad you hadn’t tried to imagine it because the reality was sweeter than any dream you could have conjured, the warmth and softness of his mouth, the taste of his tongue as it slips past your lips, the possessiveness in his grip as he molds your body against his, as though silently claiming you. There wasn’t an inch of you that didn’t ache for him. When he pulls away, there’s desire flickering in the depths of his eyes.

Wordlessly, you take his hands and get to your feet, quietly pulling him inside your new quarters. You’re careful to not wake the baker; it was quite improper to invite a man into your room, but you didn’t care. You lock the door and allow Zayne to sweep you away.

Clothes slide to the floor, a whisper lost to the dark. There’s no shame as you reach for each other, hands relishing the feeling of skin, enjoying the contact between your bodies as he gently pulls you onto the bed. His lips leave trailing kisses on your skin, no longer supple like the young woman you once were, but worthy of being worshipped irrespective. You wonder if this moment would have felt different if you had consummated this relationship when you were younger but realized you had little choice in it. If the Master of Fate couldn’t control when things happened, then what good was it to think about what could have been?

Instead, you focus on him, on his skin flushed with vitality as you nibble his ear, shyly running your tongue down his neck. He suckles at your nipple, and pleasure, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced radiates into every part of your being. You feel his erection graze your belly as he patiently kisses you, moaning into his mouth as his fingers stroke your sex, finding the little knot of nerves that makes you close your eyes in ecstasy.

It’s all slow and unhurried, and when you finally gasp out your climax, he eases his body into yours. There’s pain, but only for the briefest moment, then as your body stretches around him, you feel a powerful sense of intimacy as he thrusts, his movements passionate and loving. He gathers you tightly against him whispering the same thing over and over as he empties himself. 

“I love you. I love you I love you I love you.”

A weak ray of sunlight peeks through the window when you wake up, and you panic for a moment when you see the bed is empty. 

“I’m here my love.” Zayne’s voice immediately reassures you and you see him stoking the fireplace. The small flames crackle merrily as he makes his way back to bed, pulling you against him and stroking your skin. It had snowed overnight, and the landscape was now unrecognizable, covered in a fresh coat of it. 

“It appears grief isn’t the only thing that can cause the god of winter to make it snow,” you tease and Zayne good-naturedly smirks at you. 

“Indeed. All thanks to you.” 

You giggle, a soft sound that fills him with joy. 

“I suppose we’re stuck in this village until winter ends. Makes no sense to wander for now.”

“Agreed. I suppose I can set up shop as a fortune-teller, or maybe as a herbalist.”

“We’ll decide what to do when spring comes.” You settle against his chest, finding comfort in the scent of his skin. 

“The snow has to melt sometime. But we’ll survive. Together.”

“Together.” You agree, and lay your lips over his. 

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[seecarrun]

“Misty does not like me.”

Brock and Cilan exchanged a look.

“She doesn’t!” Ash insisted. “She’s never even kissed me.”

“You think she needs to kiss you if she likes you?” Cilan asked, looking concerned.

Ash’s frown deepened. “Serena did. I mean, she like, left and didn’t talk to me for a long time right after, but she did. That’s how I know she liked me. Melody too. And maybe Bianca, though that was probably Latias. It was unclear.”

“Plenty of other girls have liked you without kissing you,” Brock stated simply, then began counting them off on his fingers. “Macy, from the Johto League, for example. She asked you on a date and everything. Misty did not like that, by the way.”

Aah scoffed. “No, she just didn’t like her because she was a fire-type trainer and she insulted water types.”

“Incorrect. Angie, from Sinnoh, that’s another one. Oh, and I’m pretty sure Anabel from the Battle Frontier. All liked you, never kissed you. And that’s just the girls.”

“Oh?” Cilan asked, raising his eyebrows in interest and surprise.

Brock smirked. “Remind me to tell you about Goh.”

“You hardly even hung out with Goh!” Ash cried.

“Yeah, but Dawn is a gossip,” Brock said with a smirk. Ash pouted.

Cilan hummed. “I didn’t realize you were that popular, Ash. I’m almost impressed.”

“Don’t be. None of those people like me. Especially not Misty.”

“Maybe Misty’s never kissed you because the last time she tried, you went running and screaming into a table,” Brock offered, deadpan, causing Cilan to cringe.

“Oh noo. Really?”

Brock nodded, sadly. “Christmas party. She got him under the mistletoe. It was brutal.”

“Ouch, Ash,” Cilan tsked. “Rude.”

Ash rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “You don’t even like Misty!”

“I do too!” Cilan gasped.

“You do not! You spent the whole time you were hangin’ out with us making fun of her!”

“So did you,” Cilan sniffed, which shut Ash up immediately. “Besides, it was all in good fun. She was a good sport. She has an exquisite sense of humor.” He glared down at Ash and wagged his finger. “And don’t change the subject!”

Ash groaned and flopped backwards into the back of the chair, throwing up his arms in indignation. “Misty doesn’t like me!”

Brock sighed. “Ash, who knows Misty better than me?”

Ash raised an eyebrow at him challengingly. “I mean, probably her sisters and Tracy at this point, with how much he hangs around Daisy lately.”

“Wrong. I know her best. I’ve known you two for a long time and I know she likes you.”

“Why does it even matter?!” Ash finally cried, throwing his hands into the air. “Why are we even talking about this?!”

“Because you like her too,” Cilan stated simply.

Immediately, Ash’s face flushed. “No I don’t.”

Brock smirked. “You’re blushing.”

“No I’m not.”

Cilan sighed, clasping his hands behind his back and shrugging flippantly. “Well then, I guess it won’t matter to you to find out that Gary asked her out yesterday.”

That seemed to get Ash’s attention. “Gary? Gary who? Gary Oak?” He made a face. “Well, now I know you’re just making stuff up. Misty wouldn’t go out with Gary. I know Gary is cool now, but she’s always said she thinks he’s egotistical.”

“I guess you’re right, Ash,” Brock began, obviously not believing Ash was right in the slightest. “What would Misty see in someone rich and smart and handsome and mature enough to admit he actually likes her?”

Ash frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. “Did she say yes?” he asked quietly.

Brock and Cilan shared a look. “Not yet,” Brock told him. “But she might. Unless you do something about it.”

[1moreff-creator]

Is there some type of masterpost for all the crazy hidden stuff for Despair Time? like the hidden quotes, the Mai stuff, a comprehensive guide to LGI?

Well, there’s been a few really useful posts over the years. There’s the Secret Quotes, “All you have to do…” Page, Mai Quotes, About Page Text masterpost by despairing-disaster, which I must have visited 15000 times; accirax’s episode guide is a great resource even if it’s not exactly what you asked for; and at the risk of sounding a bit arrogant, I think my Mai post and my full LGI analysis video “A Full Vivisection of the David MV” are good for their respective subject, though they're more analysis than "masterpost". But, for the purposes of having it all in one place, here’s my

DRDT SECRETS MASTERPOST

Spoilers up to and including CH2 EP16

-About Page Text

The source code of DRDT's About Page holds (or held at some point?) the following text:

“You don’t understand, do you? I used to be like you. I barely remember, but I used to be like you. I cared so much about people, I cried everytime someone was hurt. I suffered for a long time stuck in here caring about people." "I know what you’re going through. You’re going to hold on as long as you have, with hope that you can make it out of here with everyone. Then you’re going to despair. That lasts a while, too." Then you’ll get bored. Like me. And you’ll wish you were still suffering. Anything else is better than boredom. "I wish I could feel something, anything else, other than being bored. I’m stuck in here for eternity, and I know everything that could possibly happen. I know how everyone reacts to a murder, what makes people turn to despair, what fills people with hope and make them survive until we all run out of food and starve to death." "I wish I could feel terrified, or afraid, or angry. But I can’t anymore. I don’t feel anything at all except boredom." Do you understand, Teacher? "This is why I’m letting you suffer as long as possible. Because it’s better than the alternative." I’m sorry. I don’t envy you. You’ll understand eventually.

(Note: The quotations marks are placed exactly as they are in the code, but the importance of this is debatable)

-Secret Quotes

Quotes hidden in the source code of each character’s personal page. Ordered here by the order in the cast list.

Teruko: It is an equal failing to trust everybody, and to trust no one at all. Xander: survivor guilt(n): feelings of guilt for having survived a catastrophe in which others died. Charles: If you forgot it, then it probably wasn’t important to begin with. None of those memories should ever be kept, anyway. Ace: I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. Arei: Because that’s what friends do. Rose: In the end, the only thing I can do is watch my wretched life go on. Hu: I want to pay for what I’ve done. But even then, I still want to live. Eden: You can’t go back, no matter how hard you try. Levi: I always believed that a person is defined by their actions alone. But maybe that’s just a poor excuse for my heartlessness. Arturo: You hated them, but even that doesn’t justify what you did. Min: I wanted to save you. David: I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. I wish you could just die. Veronika: Once something is broken, it can never be pieced together in quite the same way again. The same goes for people. J: Please don’t call me your daughter ever again. Whit: We tend to idolize the dead. Nico: Why should I own up for the mistakes that someone else made? MonoTV: Her name is Mai Akasaki.

-"All you have to do..." Page

By using MonoTV's quote to get the name, typing in https://danganronpadespairtime.tumblr.com/maiakasaki into search shows a page with this text:

“All you have to do is ask for my hand, and I’ll give it to you. Ask for my life, and I’ll give it to you as well. Don’t apologize for asking. I’ll give you my forgiveness too.”

(Bolded text highlighted for reading comfort)

Source code hides the following text:

“Are you still searching for a secret? For some explanation that will satisfy you? There’s no answer I can give you that will make you happy. Maybe I should have lied instead. I’m sorry.”

The bolded letters in this page gives you the code AOAVIEPKRO, which when typed in the same way as Mai's name (https://danganronpadespairtime.tumblr.com/AOAVIEPKRO) gives you the linked Mai Akasaki character page (you can also just Google it nowadays).

-Mai Quotes

Entering the Mai page displays, at random, one of the following quotes. The source code gives them an order and relates them to a specific character. Ordered here in the same way the code does it.

Teruko: Some years ago, she was searching for someone named 'Teruko Tawaki.' Charles: A girl who loves her family. Rose: She remembers everything that is important to others. Arturo: A girl who sees the beauty in everyone. Levi: A girl with a floral tattoo on her arm. Whit: A girl with many friends. Eden: She kept calling the number, even though no one picked it up. J: She kept it a secret, and told no one. Hu: A girl who wanted to keep everyone safe. Nico: Everyone confided in her. Ace: A girl who had a bright future. Arei: She doesn't like it when her friends fight. Min: An average girl with nothing special at all about her. Xander: She couldn't stand to do nothing. Veronika: A girl who didn't foresee the consequences. David: She forgives everyone. MonoTV: It's all your fault.

-Second Anniversary Secret Code

There are two columns, one with letters, a dot, apostrophes and spaces, across from the other, with numbers. By rearranging the "rows" in order (1-2-3...), you get "It's all your fault." (Dot included).

-Character Playlist

At one point, dev uploaded a playlist of sixteen songs, where each one was meant to be connected to one of the characters in some way. The playlist has been privated/deleted, so here’s a recreation made by venus-is-thinking. Below are listed the songs in the order they show up in the playlist, although it’s unclear if the order means anything or they’re completely randomized. I find the latter more likely btw.

-Diamond is Unbreakable from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure OST -Sing Along by Sturgill Simpson -RUNAWAY by half•alive -cartoons by Louie Zong -asymptotic by Louie Zong, Unofficial Extended Edit by Axolotl Dreams -アイアルの勘違い (A Mistaken Belief of Love) by Niru Kajitsu, cover by yama -��嵐 (Shunran) by John -イヱスマン (Yesman) by NILFRUITS, covered by Noristry and カケリネ (Kakerine) -アンデッドエネミー (Undead Enemy) by Suzumu and Giga-P, covered by 松下 (Matsushita) -Drawing Pins by Nothing but Thieves -ハイファイ進化論 (Hi-fi Evolution Theory) by 稀雨 ("Rare Rain") and ふぁるすてぃ (Farusti) -tip toes by half•alive -ポリゴナル (Polygonal) by ふぁるすてぃ (Farusti) -Spitfire (05 Version) by The Prodigy -desk rotation by HALLEY LABS -Good Grief by Bastille

******

Literature Girl Insane

Naturally this gets a whole section for itself. That said, I will ask that you watch Vivisection (linked above) for every visual detail, piece of text, color connection theory, language theory... basically everything that wouldn't be considered a puzzle or a code in some way.

-Footnotes

Numbers which appear attached to certain parts of text, which are referenced in the video's description to give them extra meaning. Refer to this post for images of all the footnotes, as well as a first impression analysis.

[Footnote Number] Description Text -> Text it's attached to in the video. [Time of appearance and link] {Notes}

[1] In this situation, it is better to use full names over nicknames. Exclude our protagonist—he is not “that person.” -> Now [1:22] {Crosswords puzzle}

[2] Other examples include Drosophila melanogaster and E. coli. -> an albino mouse, arabidopsis. [3:02]

[3] From Title 17 of the United States Code. -> A “derivative work” is a work based upon one or more preexisting works, such as a translation, musical arrangement, dramatization, fictionalization, motion picture version, sound recording, art reproduction, abridgment, condensation, or any other form in which a work may be recast, transformed, or adapted. A work consisting of editorial revisions, annotations, elaborations, or other modifications which, as a whole, represent an original work of authorship, is a “derivative work”. [2:18] {Tumblr why did you remove yellow you're fucking up my color scheme}

[4] The practice of avoiding the number four; it is most common in East Asia. This superstition arises from the fact that the number four can be read similar to the word “death” in multiple languages. -> subtract 4, due to tetraphobia [1:46]

[5] As the translation has been intentionally botched in many parts, it should not be considered accurate. -> (translation needed) [3:10] {The text is "(translation needed)", not that I need a tanslation :v}

[6] (Prayer) -> 🙏 [2:02] {Extremely small and almost invisible, bottom right of the hands}

[7] Seven is considered an auspicious number in many Western cultures. Let's just skip it. -> Mind [2:41]

[8] ‘Tut, tut, child!’ said the Duchess. ‘Everything's got a moral, if only you can find it.’ -/> N/A. This footnote cannot be found, as it is not in the video. [N/A]

[9] no respect for the classics smh -> So sing a degraded copy [2:07]

[10] The Roman numeral for 10 is X -> X [2:00] {Very small, top right of X}

[11] I admit to lying. There is no one named ••••• •••••. I am, and always have been, an only child -> suspicious gaps [1:32] {Still no idea what the hell is going on here}

[12] “Majority rule” is known to be the fairest method of making decisions for a group. That’s why murderers never complained when we voted for them to die -> Tallying votes… [2:02]

[13] 正 -> correct [2:40] {Refer to "Tally 5" for further information}

[14] Hint: word length of 256 -> = [3:52] {Refer to "Footnote 14 Puzzle" for further information}

[15] “Ignorance is bliss” is an idiom used to say that it is better to remain ignorant about certain harsh truths, in order to avoid causing oneself stress. The expression comes from a 1742 Thomas Gray poem (“Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College"): “Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise.” -> Remaining ignorant, isn't that "happiness"? [1:47] {Again excuse the lack of yellow}

[16] While it was originally intended to serve as a military march, today it is most commonly recognized for its association with circuses and tomfoolery. -> [sheet of music] [2:49] {The song referenced is "Entry of the Gladiators," so it's presumed that's what the sheet shows. I couldn't find an exact match, but online sheets look similar enough}

[17] Not a real word. Can't be found in any dictionary. -> Democratic-ly [2:00]

[18] A/N: soz not very good at drawing flowers lol!!! -> dandelions (weed) [3:04]

[19] A dialogue between two individuals that serves as a discussion of moral and philosophical issues. -> Will you forget what you've done, I wonder? [3:42]

[20] It is considered by many to be outdated, providing little-to-no insight on human nature. -> The Kübler-Ross model postulates that those who experience grief go through a s[] of five consecutive stages: [1:53]

[21] Deriving from the Latin phrase “Et cetera” : meaning “and other (similar) things”, “and so forth”, or “and the rest (of such things)” : abbreviated to etc., etc, et cet., &c. or &c -> etc. [3:48]

[22] The rest is silence. -> [4:21] {This footnote shows up on its own on a black screen, that's why there's no associated text}

-Roman Numerals

The crosswords attached to footnote 1 can be completed in the following way, attaching each character (minus David plus Mai) to a numeral.

Below are all the numerals, listed in numerical order. Refer to this post for images.

[Numeral] [Character] Text it's attached to *Background text* *Other background text* [Time stamp and link] {Notes}

[I] [Xander] (the world of abnormal sentiment dances) *I have always looked up to you* [3:50] {Refer to "Footnote 14 Puzzle" for further information}

[II] [Rose] Ego cogito ergo (turbatus) sum [1:34] {Translation: I think therefore I am (disturbed)}

[III] [Charles] If you doubt brittle things are broken *And now here’s my secret, a very simple secret. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye* [1:37]

[IV] [Arei] Right now, why do you cry? [1:39]

[V] [Ace] Right now, why you go insane? *A cat has 9 additional lives* *I am but mad north-northwest. When the wind is  southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.* [1:42]

[VI] [Arturo] mind exercises 1 2 3 4 [2:41]

[VII] [J] Do it like that, let’s live together! *The Moral La[w] causes the people to be in com[plete accord] with their ruler, so that they wi[ll f]ollo[w] [him] regard[less of] their lives, undis[mayed] by any danger* [2:10]

[VIII] [Nico] even if i try to think, idk!!! [2:44]

[IX] [Levi] look, aside from that, give me the usual medicine *[Extract from a scientific paper on Shoemaker-Levy 9]* [2:46]

[X] [Min] Democratic-ly *In the case of a murder, all survivors must participate in a class trial. During this trial, everyone must discuss and vote for one of the remaining participants as the "blackened" murderer* *👈👈* *👉👉* *🙏* [2:00]

[XI] [Mai] God is dead [1:48]

[XII] [Eden] ???: But you're in my way, aren't you? [2:28]

[XIII] [Teruko] or *Only the eyes belied this assumption. They were small, deep set and crafty. Not only that. As the man, making some remark to his young companion, glanced across the room, his gaze stopped on Poirot for a moment, and just for that second there was a strange malevolence, and unnatural tensity in the glance* *Those are the terms. To exchange all the goodness and grace of every life in Omelas for that single, small improvement: to throw away the happiness of thousands for the chance of happiness of one: that would be to let guilt within the walls indeed.* [1:55]

[XIV] [Veronika] Things like substance of the arts *subtract 4, due to tetraphobia* [1:44]

[XV] [Whit] Remaining ignorant, isn't that "happiness"? *subtract 4, due to tetraphobia* [1:46]

[XVI] [Hu] ???: Go and cry. [2:27]

Windings

At 0:35, windings text flashes on screen. It's the beginning of Never Gonna Give you Up by Rick Astley. Yep.

-"What is the most important thing?"

To this day the best answer we have to this is replacing each question mark with the corresponding letter of "RESOLVE." If you find something else, please tell me.

-Bullet-Finding

The MV tells us to find six bullets, but if you look at the top left book, it says "(hint: no you can't)" Here are the five bullets which can be found.

-Morse Code

At the end of LGI, the following Morse code flashes on screen.

-.-- --- ..- / … - .. .-.. .-.. / -… . .-.. .. . …- . -.. / .. -. / -- . / -.. . … .--. .. - . / . …- . .-. -.-- - …. .. -. --. / .. .----. …- . / -.. --- -. . .-.-.-

-… ..- - / - …. .- - .----. … / .--- ..- … - / ..-. .- -. - .- … -.-- --..-- / .. … -. .----. - / .. - ..--..

.. / … .. -- .--. .-.. -.-- / -.-. …. --- … . / - --- / -… . .-.. .. . …- . / - …. .- - / -.-- --- ..- / -.. .. -.. .-.-.-

.- ..-. - . .-. / .- .-.. .-.. --..-- / .. .----. -- / .. -. -.-. .- .--. .- -… .-.. . / --- ..-. / -… . .. -. --. / … --- -- . --- -. . / .-- .. - …. --- ..- - / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.-

Which translates to:

YOU STILL BELIEVED IN ME DESPITE EVERYTHING I’VE DONE.

BUT THAT’S JUST FANTASY, ISN’T IT?

I SIMPLY CHOSE TO BELIEVE THAT YOU DID.

AFTER ALL, I’M INCAPABLE OF BEING SOMEONE WITHOUT YOU.

-Footnote 14 Puzzle

(Solved by y-prime) (Apologies if I get any of the technicalities wrong, I'm not good with codes)

After Numeral I flashes on screen, you get a bunch of numbers, followed by an ampersand (&), more numbers, an equal symbol (=) attached to footnote 14, and a bunch of question marks. Footnote 14 is "Hint: word length of 256," and 256 is 2^8, which is 8 bits in binary. This tells us we need to get a binary code using the bitwise AND (&). If you're uninformed, I was too, but basically, & first transforms decimal numbers into 5 digit binary, giving the next values:

14631484268173741020143036451175923368636278930404923743082436772069705217326 -> 10000001011001001000000110101001101001011101100110010110101000111100010110110001110111011000010111100111110011001000001110110011101111011011110110101101100101011101000010100001110101011101000010000101111100111011110011000011111001111111110111010100101110

43607886503718811525798764321686495628071353085956330717581498375291444100526 -> 110000001101001001100000110100001100001011101110110010100100000011010010110110001111111011000010111100101110011011100100110110101101111011011110110101101110101011001110010000101111101011100000010100001110100011011110110000001111001011011110111110110101110

Note: The second value is actually 255 digits long in binary, the first is 254 (don't- do not ask me how this happens, it's what the decoder gave me). Arbitrarily, you have to delete the first 1 from the second value.

Then, & compares each number in the binary, and returns 0 if at least one of the values is 0, or 1 if both values are 1. This gives you:

10000001001001001000000110100001100001011101100110010100100000011000010110110001110111011000010111100101110011001000000110110001101111011011110110101101100101011001000010000001110101011100000010000001110100011011110010000001111001011011110111010100101110

Which is 254 characters, you need 256. Arbitrarily, add two 0s at the beginning of that final code. When converted from 8 digit binary to text, you get "I have always looked up to you."

(I hope you appreciate the detailed explanation it took me hours to figure out what y-prime did they're so much better at this than me T_T)

-Tally 5

(Originally solved, to my knowledge, by anderscim)

Although originally we weren't meant to share the solution, I think over a full year after the video, with Part 2 fully out, the embargo is surely over by now.

On the books in LGI, there is a QR code which takes you to https://danganronpadespairtime.tumblr.com/tally5. This page has only a text box where you can input text, and a title asking "Was I correct?"

The "Was I correct?" connects this to the "correct/incorrect" scene attached to footnote 13, which itself is 正, a Chinese symbol which can mean "just" or "correct." Additionally, this is a way that people in eastern countries tally up sets of five, the way you might see someone use something like 卌, which connects it to the infamous "tally5" URL.

Transcribe the text, and separate it in sets of up to five characters (hence the whole "tally 5" thing), and ignore line breaks (the end of line two has four at the end, completed by the d in row three. I more or less followed the line breaks for visual clarity). Pick the first number of each set, as highlighted below.

3aqxw 97pkt c8uki 458fb dpfoa cllex 2f07b f8mg2 4b4mp fx2a(d) c6v3f 5yhxj d8i7s f1l31 2zaj5  1azet 47jod 5jcze c5mvb 6bz2o 59r14 3sf2p e916s czen7 emvbl 55ehe 9iqb2 708tt 83482 c8tw3 c77gn 47ojc a634g bcfz0 0l6s6 47wwl akcn4 6bre1 e0eam 9

Provided you've done everything correctly, you should get39c4dc2f4fc5df2145c653ece5978cc4ab04a6e9. Put that in the "Was I correct?" text box and you get the following image (you will most likely only see the top part, but copying the image and pasting it elsewhere shows the text at the bottom as well):

I became a villain in pursuit of your dream.

I threw away my humanity for an ideal I couldn't understand.

But I don't regret it. To "regret" is to imply that I could have done anything else.

I never told you, but the truth is, I wasn't capable of ever becoming human in the first place.

So in the end, you are always-

****

-Notable Visual Details

This part is mostly subjective. If you feel something shouldn't be here or I missed something, it's because these are just the details I personally consider noteworthy, or I forgot to add something (I'm open to suggestions here). Also I'm ignoring LGI in this section otherwise I would need 15000 screenshots.

+Fork Fun

(From left to right: Pre-prologue scene of bloody hands, Xander's eye wound from the Trial 1 investigation, Eden CG from CH2 Ep13. The first shows a bloody fork on the table, Xander's eye wound is consistent with a slash of a fork, and Eden's hand is bloody, holding a fork)

+Teruko's Mystery Voter

(Voting results in each trial so far. Teruko received two votes in T1, and one in T2)

+Camellias (Unnamed Classmate and Mai connection)

(Left: Mai profile, her tattoo. Right: Bonus episode 2. Same flowers)

+Matching tattoo? (Teruko and Mai)

(Left: CH2 EP2 Teruko changing, a small black line can be seen on her left arm, similar to the stems of the flowers of Mai's tattoo. Right: Jacket off reference, a question mark is shown besides Teruko's left arm)

+Matching phone charms (Teruko and Mai)

(Left: Teruko's Monopad, CH2 Ep1. Right: Unnamed Classmate's phone, from Bonus Episode 1)

+Drawing on Teruko's Floor

(A drawing which appears on the floor of Teruko's room in CH2 EP3, and disappears in CH2 EP7)

+Whit's Hand Behind the Back.

(After the cast learns the elevator won't open after Levi gets shot, Whit pulls out his unhinged sprite, where he has his hand behind his back. Personally I don't find this important, but I'll feel stupid if it is and I didn't add it, so)

+Thanatophobia: Names on the graves.

(From left to right: "Elliot Cuevas", "Felicity Giles", "Taylor Riley." I promise it's easier to see when Tumblr doesn't compress the images. This is the main series way we get the names of Charles' brother, Arturo's sister, and Ace's old friend)

+(AltDRDT) Teacher's ID Card

(Transcript: "This ID card is the property of Hope’s Peak Academy. Use of this ID card by any person other than the rightful holder is prohibited. Report lost or stolen ID cards by contacted 555-483-7367.")

+(AltDRDT) XF and Min's matching pin.

(Yep, matching tie pin. Btw, Min doesn't have it in her Bonus Episode or the Sleepy MV. Did she only get this at the start of the killing game?)

-Potentially Important Posts

Nothing "secret," per say, but a compilation of some of the posts the dev has made which I consider to contain important information.

-CH1 QnA.

-Bonus Episode QnA.

-2 Year Anniversary (Already mentioned).

-Jacket off Reference (Already mentioned).

-CH2 PT1 QnA. Note: Certain answers were deleted. Here's a reblog with some of them, and below is a screenshot of a particularly interesting answer which was not saved by any reblog.

-Teruko's Brother Back Reveal (4 year anniversary).

---

That's everything I currently remember for now. If you feel I missed anything, feel free to tell me about it! I'll try to edit this post to remain up-to-date with all the insane stuff in this series.

Anyways, hope that's enough for the ask! Thanks for giving me an excuse to make this!

[tsuyoiqueen]

Peaceful Property EP 6 Analysis: Why Didn't Peach Take The Money

Alright, I've seen a lot of criticism towards Peach's decision not to take the money offered by Home's family lawyer to buy his silence and do damage control after the footage of the accident got leaked. Now, I'm all about bashing GMMTV for their mistreatment of TayNew and other actors under their label, as well as for their lazy storylines and plot holes on the final episodes of their shows, but for once I don't think you guys are seeing the whole picture. Yes, GMMTV is notoriously bad at depicting poor characters, but Peach's decision is not out of pocket. It's actually very characteristic of him and the progression of his friendship with Home.

Hear me out: First, in the beginning of the series, we see Peach and Home fight about money many times – From Home accusing Peach of trying to sabotage his Real State business by faking a paranormal event in Best's house for the sake of going viral to Home later on trying to hire Peach to exorcise said properties even though they'd just met.

Peach sees Home as a spoiled, privileged rich kid who was raised to believe money could buy anything. This conflict is explicitly shown on Episode 2, during Rak's exorcism when Home repeatedly attempts to buy his way out of a bad situation and Peach confronts him about it. First, when Home makes fun of Peach's attempt at making Rak a sandwich based on the manager's instructions and questions his abilities, then buys a feast for the ghost after Peach quits the job, arguing that she must've refused to pass on because the food wasn't to her liking. The second time it happened it's a more pronounced attempt, with Home slapping a pile of cash on the table during the commotion and Peach becoming outraged at it.

But this conflict is brought to light again, on Episode 3, when Peach and PangPang sign the ghost-hunting contract and Kan tells them they've essentially sold their souls to Home in exchange for a paycheck, as they need to heed all of his orders from now, which Home takes full advantage of right away. Now, PangPang is fine with the deal – as she's been since the start. She was the one who got Peach to agree to the exorcisms in the first place and it was her idea to go to Home and ask if he could lend them one of his properties. As long as there's something good coming out of it, she doesn't mind. Peach, however, is reluctant to agree to Home's unreasonable requests but eventually caves in and swallows his pride.

Yet, on Episode 5, we see him once again stand his ground. It doesn't matter that Home will cut his paycheck, he refuses to go back into the restaurant where his former mentor passed away (seemingly by his fault). Home has to push him to the brink, remind Peach of his current living situation – He has no place to stay in, he's sleeping under Home's roof – and consequently hurt him to convince him.

But by the end of Episode 5, Peach knows Home never cared about the money or intended to demolish the restaurant to build a 50 million baht condo out of it. Home confesses to Peach that he only acted the way he did because he knew Peach wouldn't have come otherwise and he really wanted to help Peach overcome his fear. So when Episode 6 rolls around, money is no longer a point of conflict in their friendship, right? Wrong.

Money (as well as influence) is the reason why Home is able to make Peach's dream come true in a heartbeat, after barely a day of knowing about it. He does it in grand style, in a palace, with cameras broadcasting it live and even getting Peach a do-over with Chai-Un as a bonus. But Peach doesn't feel like he owes Home, like he has to bend to his will, anymore because he knows where they stand now: they're family and family looks out for each other. Peach knows Home went through all this effort to make him happy and he rewards Home with his full trust. First, by leaving him on charge of the trickiest part of the dish that could ruin his career all over again. And second, by showing his gratitude and considering Home part of his and PangPang's family (They're the parents and Pang's the baby, as said by her).

So, he asks about Home's dream and when he realizes it's something that he can give him, Peach doesn't hesitate to do so. Home, who's grown up in a mansion, never had to fry an egg or find a job to survive, simply craves the love and comfort of a family and Peach welcomes him wholly.

So, then I ask you, why would Peach refuse the money Home's family lawyer offered him and give back what he got from the exorcisms? Well, the moment Peach found out (or rather assumed) that Home had been lying to him all this time, their friendship left a sour taste in his mouth. What Peach was led to believe Home had done out of care had turned out to be just an attempt at relieving himself of the guilt of the hit-and-run situation. Peach could be thinking Home sought him out on purpose with ulterior motives from the start, that it was all a game to him.

That only escalates once Home's family lawyer, and not Home himself, walks in with yet another contract for him to sign and an order of eviction. That is what puts up a wall between Home and Peach again and reminds Peach of their class disparities: he is poor and Home is rich. Three years ago, Home hit him with his yellow sports car while Peach was on his way home from work. Home's family took care of everything, bribed the police and buried the evidence while Peach was left with pain, guilt and trauma. Home was sent abroad to lay low while Peach lost his mentor (and mother figure), his job and his self-confidence. They couldn't be more worlds apart than they are.

One of Peach's fatal flaws is his pride. He doesn't care if he's going to have to go back to the "rat hole" he came from. He doesn't care if he's losing the chance of living a comfortable life. Peach went his whole life without generational wealth, he can continue to do so now.

So of course, not only doesn't he take the money but he goes even further and intends to give back all that he got from Home's family. Peach wants to be far way from Home and that includes his money. He doesn't care about being reasonable right now, he's just protecting himself.

[shan0blight]

People who hate richard cameron have completely missed the point of the movie.

and you can all say “but richard cameron is an asshole and he disrespected Mr.keating so much by ratting on him 🥺”

first of all, cameron isn’t a asshole, he is misunderstood. Throughout the whole movie he gets made fun of for things he likes and HIS way of seizing the day. Even though the whole movie is about conformity but that doesn’t seem to matter because every one pushes cameron in to a box to carpe diem the way the rest of the group likes or sees fit.

And the argument that he was disrespecting Keating is crazy,cause he didn’t. Seizing the day means living life to the fullest and everyone hates on cameron for LIVING LIFE THE WAY HE WANTS?!?!THATS NOT DISRESPECTING! THATS LIVING BY WHAT KEATING SAYS?!?!

Yes cameron did rat on Keating but you have to realize he is a kid. I hate people who say “i don’t gaf if he was a kid” as a come back because it’s literally the most annoying response ever. Charlie is a prime example of this. When Charlie “chokes on the bone” as Keating says that shows that Keating wants his students to live life to the fullest but with some regulations set in place for safety. Cause at the end of the end Charlie is impressionable and a kid. Cameron is too. He sees one of his best friends die, not by an accident but by SUCIDE?!?! and he is told by adults that can have a strong impression on kids that “Mr.Keating was to blame”.

I’m not standing up for what cameron did cause it was fucked up but charlie did the same thing but every cameron hater glazes charlie for it. Charlie ratted first because his ego is just as tall as pitts but no one is mad at him right? Why is no one mad?? Cause Charlie made a red lighting bolt on his chest with lipstick and is the edgy bad boy.

I’m not saying I hate Charile but he isn’t the most perfect person ever, just like all the characters, they all have flaws because peter weir wanted them to be real. That’s why we feel so drawn to every character because even though they aren’t real they feel real by having flaws and character traits that connect with audiences of all ages.

Throughout the movie Cameron is again pushed into a box set by his friends, his only friends. Cameron likes school and learning but his friends see it as torture so to break free from this they write poetry, act, rebel but cameron doesn’t like that. That’s just not his way of seizing the day but peer pressure is real and he forces himself to be comfortable with it. He says he likes the clarinet, he gets laughed at, he joins in on scary story time, and they dismiss him off telling him they already heard it.

Everything is an attack on cameron because he doesn’t like what everyone else likes. When you get peer pressured into doing things repeatedly your peers who are pressuring you start to pick up on this and distance themselves from you because you are “different”. So cameron knows neil’s dad is shit but how would he know he is to blame for suicide? How would he know neil felt so strongly about acting and not just using it as a rebellion like Charlie? He wouldn’t because he could’ve never known with the barrier between him and the rest of the group.

From the 4/5 months they’ve known keating here’s what’s happened leading up to neil’s death:

-Knox sneaking out to go to parties and getting drunk af (another example of peer pressure)

-All of them sneaking out to go to the cave

-Neil going against his dads wishes which he has never done before

-Charile gets more rebellious

-Charlie gets threatened with expulsion

-Cameron gets made fun of more but Todd the new comer gets treated with respect

-Neil fakes a letter from his dad

-Neil is happy at the play

-Neil is pronounced dead the next morning

Neil never acted out before. When he finally did by the guidance of Keating, he died. Which is not keatings fault! I believe from the moment Junior year started Neil was planning to die. That’s why he was so demandent on Todd speaking up for himself, Neil wanted someone else to enjoy life because he was done living it. For his last final months Neil had he did Seize the day by doing something he loves. He spent his last days happy and the only one to blame is society for making neil a victim to the subject of conformity .

Cameron is not to blame, he is victim as-well. Just like Todd, Charlie, Knox, Pitts,and Meeks. They all were subjected to some type of conformity, that’s the point of this movie. Break free from the ties society expects from you and live the way you want too.

Cameron is such a well written character and how could you hate a someone played by dylan kussman 😔🙏. Dylan is literally my father idk what you mean???

[oldestenemy]

So Polaris it is.

The wizard is not keen on dealing with Coleridge again—though they believe he is finally free of whatever Old Cob did to addle his poor brain. It doesn’t matter. He is a sour memory at best. He is the drawing echo of the Black Hole, the thunderous warnings of the Astral Guardians. He is a living reminder that they are naive enough to overlook traps when desperate. Worse still are the words that come out of his mouth, not the denial of help—they don’t care about that, he can drink himself to death on Polaris for all they care—but the solution he offers. The captain they should seek out. The world he is exploring.

“Something about an asteroid—”

“—comet.” the wizard corrects Taylor, voice monotone and empty.

Azteca.

They have to go back to Azteca.

“Wizard?”

Their gaze slips from Taylor to Duncan, eyes flickering—brown—gold—back. They can barely even hear him. It’s just screaming. It’s all screaming. The key is gone, the key is gone and Azteca is as good as dead, is burning and blistering under a hailstorm of glass and rock for the rest of time and—

—are they crying?

Normal tears, heat and salt, still following the path carved out for them by bitter Shadow.

“We’ll need a ship.” They manage without their voice cracking, pulling their hood up in an attempt to regain any semblance of control, of composure. “There is no key for Azteca, the doors aren’t an option—”

“—Aye, my vessel can be spared a one-way trip—as stated my skyfaring days are over.” Taylor hands them a glowing piece of some sort of crystal. “That’s connected to the fountain on board, it’ll take you straight there. Still docked in the ice floes, but I imagine you’ll manage getting her back in the sky alright. Nothing compared to our journey through the Starfall Sea.”

The wizard nods again.

They don’t know what to say.

Grief roils in their gut, mingling with guilt and old anger they feel, for once, too young to carry.

“Oh and if you see our dear friend Old Cobb—let him know he’ll always drink for free at RataTiki!”

A huff that might be a laugh, might be a noise of derision, “I’ll tell him.” the words come out in triplicate, starlight like blood on their tongue. The wizard swallows hard, shakes their head. “Enjoy the rest of your life, Captain.”

Somehow they suspect he hasn’t got much of it left.

~*~

Duncan keeps his mouth shut until they make it onto the ice where Coleridge’s ship is…less docked and more crashed. Though the wizard thinks Taylor was lucky to make it this far at all, considering the state the ship had been in when they’d found the wreck on Crescent Beach.

“Remind me why we walked here instead of using the crystal?”

The wizard doesn’t answer.

They climb the carved ladder on the side of the ship, hauling themself onto the deck. Sure enough, in the center of the upper level, by the helm, there is a fountain carved of the same crystal, spitting fine streams of what looks like, mana?

Interesting.

They wonder if there’s something like this on Baldur’s ship.

They’ve never seen so, if there is.

The wizard has, admittedly, never piloted a ship of any kind. But how hard could it be? They see sigils carved into the ship in a handful of places, at the helm, across the sides where they had stepped on board—the magic in them is different, but it’s still magic. It still feels like it would respond were they to step into place, pour energy into it.

“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you.” It’s not a question, and the wizard looks back at Duncan with a dead eyed smile as their only response before pulling their hood back over their face.

They do not trust themself to talk seriously right now.

They do not trust their ability to hold onto the pain.

Faking apathy is the best they can do.

“And you would? Know what you’re doing?” They raise an eyebrow he cannot see from under the hood. But their tone likely gets the point across.

“Sometimes the advantage of nobody being willing to put up with you is having to listen to Nolan Stormgate speak for more than thirty seconds.”

That…doesn’t really answer their question.

“Why would that help?”

Duncan just gives them a look. “Seriously? You’re choosing a weird time to play stupid. Just move—take care of making sure nothing hits us.”

The wizard does not move.

“What would talking to Nolan help for?”

“Did you think the name Stormgate was just for show?” He asks, pushing past them to the helm, “Remind me again how you made it this far.” There is less venom in the words than they would have expected, but it is still there. He traces some part of the circle with his boot and it lights up immediately. “I mean it by the way—if we’re headed into debris from Xiabalba you’re gonna need to put something around us, this ship will be lucky not to crash into the nearest mountain before we even make it into the sky.”

Well.

If that was what needed doing.

Part of them is hesitant to let Duncan lead—but it’s either that or waste time trying to figure out the ship on their own. They’d helped with the wards on Baldur’s ship before, so that at least, they could manage.

The worst is on the way.

But there will be time to brace for it.

Read the whole series here <3

[gothamite-rambler]

Pt 1

---Next morning---

Tim woke up the next morning, last night felt like a dream. There was no way Bernard discovered he was a Robin and sat on this information for a long time. Bernard kissing him after he made it back home was a dream too... a really good dream.

Tim: It was a ... dream. I was exhausted. Dog tired, took off my suit which... Is scattered on the floor, totally normal. Did that myself.

Bernard: Tim, you awake?

Tim smelled bacon and eggs from the kitchen. Bernard was making breakfast, he was in at his place and Tim was naked in bed.

Tim: I'm up... Wh- When did you get in?

Bernard (heard chuckling from the kitchen): I spent the night here silly. You hit your head during your Robin job?

Tim (sighing at the inevitable truth): Oh crap baskets.

Tim got out of bed debating what to say, how to handle this, should he pay Bernard to keep the secret, move towns, get plastic surgery-

Bernard (unintentionally interrupting his boyfriends ruminating thoughts): Get out of there dude, I'm making your favorite and I left an outfit on the bed. Oh and your mask is on the table. I put it there.

Tim groaned at his boyfriend's saccharine jovial tone. Bernard sounded so used to this, but Tim couldn't figure out when he actually figured out he was Red Robin.

Tim (all he could say as he got dressed): Th- Thanks.

Bernard scooched his chair closer to Tim, laughing softly seeing his flushed face.

Tim took a deep breath, changing into the blue t-shirt and blue jeans Bear left out for him. Leaving his bedroom he went to the table and sat down. Berned placed a plate of eggs, bacon and avocado toast in front of Tim. Bear kissed him on the head then sat down with a plate of his own food.

Bernard (eating a strip of bacon): Last night was fun, I'm glad I got to do that with you in your Robin suit. Kind of wanted to do after I connected the dots on my metaphorical evidence board.

Tim groaned, rubbing his forehead.

Bernard (a soft smile): If you're worried I'm going to tell anyone or leave you or want money to keep it secret let me make this clear, I won't. I wouldn't do that if we weren't dating. That type of betrayal isn't my thing.

Tim: Yeah, but... Why?

Bernard: Did you threaten to do that when you wanted to become Robin? Because I know how smart you are and that you figured out who Batman was.

Tim (shaking his head): It was a tough start, but I never wanted to tell the world the information I learned. I didn't think I'd have this happen to me though. I was so careful.

Bernard chuckles.

Bernard (placing a hand on Tim's arm): Timmy, my prince, you suck at hiding it at a certain point. You left your eye mask in random places, you left a batarang in my car once, I'm keeping that by the way, one of your Robin suits is in the closet-

Tim (lying badly): I told you that was a halloween costume.

Bernard: Tim you have it labeled 'Property of Red Robin'. I believed it was a cool halloween costume... that we used for roleplay, eventually I connected the dots and the tights.

Tim sighs, holding his head down and eating his breakfast.

Tim: Continue.

Bernard (beaming): Thank you, let's see... you left your laptop open one time and there were blueprints for the batmobile, the microwave incident and again your upper arm tattoo.

Tim (checking the tattoo he got dedicated to his mom): I-

Bernard: I told you to get the tattoo on a different spot for that reason, yeah. To be honest, the masks and tattoo made me teeter on if I was right, but it was when I kissed you to snap you out from the chaos monster's control that made me realize... you're the same person.

Tim: That was a weird night, you never told me how you snapped out of it first.

Bernard kissed Tim on the cheek.

Bernard: I had a little help from Robin. The important thing is I don't care if you're Red Robin. I love you and will always love you. I was waiting for you to tell me, but... let's just say I got impatient.

Tim: That's what I love about you, you are my better half. I... love you too.

Bernard: Aww, you're making me blush. Your secret is safe with me though, okay?

Tim nodded, eating his toast.

Tim: Thanks, question though, did you figure out who Batman is?

Bernard (chuckling): Yeah that took me like five minutes. Having trouble with Nightwing and Red Hood though.

Tim: Seriously?

Bernard (honest): Yeah, can you tell me?

Tim: Oh, no, no, you gotta figure that out on your own.

Bernard: You'll keep that secret from me? The utter betrayal.

Bernard and Tim laughed and then shared a quick kiss then went to eating breakfast with a new bond between them.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Hello!

If you'd like to share, I'm curious about what your ideas were about:

"The Agreste's aquiring the miraculous is far more morally complex, makes sense, and was not done for explicitly selfish reasons"

(really liked your reverse crush set-up (￣︶￣) )

(Post that spawned this ask)

There are so many ways to do this, but I personally like the idea that Fu had nothing to do with the miraculous going missing because there was no real reason to do that in canon. Yes, it made Fu paranoid, but the show keeps insisting that paranoia is good and Su Han has basically the same rules that Fu did, so this is just a needless complication. I don't think anything would change if Fu was a fully realized guardian. I don't want the guardian order to be a thing, though. There's just a single guardian.

With that in mind, somewhere along the line, the holders of the peacock and the butterfly went rogue. In the resulting fight, the peacock got damaged by whoever was wielding the black cat because that should be the only way to damage a miraculous. None of this drop it and it breaks BS. In spite of the damage, the peacock and the butterfly escaped. They've been missing ever since and no one has even heard of them being used.

These long ago rogue holders end up being Emilie's ancestors or the ancestors of someone she gets close to or even just people she gets close to because she's nice and does stuff with the elderly. Whatever the path, it leads to Emilie getting her hands on the miraculous. You could even match canon and replace the rings with the miraculous since canon went the family heirloom route already. The setup is there!

If we keep the good Emilie read that canon so clearly wants us to have, then we can have Emilie become a world traveler specifically because she wants to figure out how to fix the peacock. She uses her wealth to go all over the place, looking for clues on the guardian, but without the guardian order, there's no specific place to look. On these travels she meets Gabriel and they end up getting married. Gabriel enjoys traveling with her and helping her in her quest, but it's just a thing they do on the side. This keeps the world traveler element and explains how these two know about the miraculous since they no longer need to magically find out about the miraculous on their own AND KNOW WHERE TO FIND THEM???

Mini rant time: the fact that Gabriel, Nathalie, and Emilie were able to successfully find the miraculous is such total BS. They weren't lost in the ruins of the guardian temple. They were lost while Fu was running away! How would they even begin to know where to look unless Fu told them? Even then, he dropped them into an open cavern! That's like finding a needle in a haystack. And why did they find the miraculous, but not Feast? Wouldn't they be in the same location? It actually makes more sense for them to find Feast as an indicator that this is the right spot since it's so much bigger! None of this makes sense. As an amature historian who knows the basics of how archelogy works, this plot point infuriates me. It's so dumb.

Anyway, somewhere along the line, a situation pops up where Emilie is forced to use the peacock even though she knows the consequences because she should ABSOLUTELY KNOW THE CONSEQUENCES!!! I do not believe for a second that Nooroo didn't warn them. I could possibly buy Dussu being too out of it, but then that raises questions about where Nooroo was and there's no good answer to that. It's nonsense. Emilie not knowing is a copout and so lame! It ruins all the drama of her using the peacock. If her getting sick was an accident then just give her cancer or something.

Why she uses the peacock is up to you. Have Adrien be sick and she picks saving her son over a long life. Have her and Gabriel get into trouble on their travels and so she transforms to save him (oh the guilt! Makes Gabriel's obsession make even more sense, doesn't it?) Whatever you choice, make sure it's not explicitly selfish and you've got a wonderful complex situation where Emilie's death really wasn't deserved and Gabriel's obsession truly feels like a man trying to right a wrong and not like an egomaniac trying to stop the consequences of his own bad actions, which is one of the main reason I keep saying I like good Emilie. The story is so much more interesting to me if Emilie is good. It doesn't justify Gabriel's actions, but it makes them more compelling. Canon went the most boring route possible for this backstory and I hate it.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Lucifer and his s/o cuddling in bed during a rainy day?

OB Lucifer x Reader

The rain tapped against the window in a soft, rhythmic tune. Almost like jazz. In the very distance there would be a rumble of thunder, like the incoming of percussion, but it stayed away as if not to ruin the afternoon.

Lucifer sat in his bed, reading. Listening to the rain, and the crackle of fireplace, and the soft sighs of [Y/N] sleeping beside him. They had been reading as well and dozed off a while ago beside him. Apparently too relaxed from the sound of rain and the fire, though he didn’t mind. Lucifer was glad they trusted him enough to let their guard down and fall asleep beside him. Comfortable enough to use his left side as a pillow, though his arm was getting a little numb.

Before [Y/N] he used to hate rainy days. Alone, and with the dark tears from the sky, his mind would often reflect on sadder times. The loss of his sister. The fall of his brothers by his own failings. Losing them, even though they all lived in the same house, as they moved further and further apart from one another. [Y/N] changed all that. Drawing them back in. Creating this new space where they could all be together again. He didn’t believe in miracles much after his fall, but [Y/N] coming was certainly one of them. To the point he had to wonder if his Father had anything to do with it.

[Y/N] shifted beside him, but did not wake, and Lucifer looked down at them. He’d seen real angels, been one, but none looked more angelic than they did right now.

He saved the place in his book and carefully shifted to curl up around [Y/N] and hold them while they slept, and they had a little bit of peace to themselves right now. He loved rainy days.