#which is why I went for dimmer colors

[averysleepyfrog]

The Nameless

[galaxythedragonshifter]

Herobrine Headcanons because I feel obligated to do so~

It's me, I'm the obligation

Herobrine is NOT evil in my headcanon. The whole evil "leafless trees go brrrr" thing never resonated with me. I definitely can and will read a story with evil Hero in it, but it has to be done well. In my opinion, the Gameknight999 books didn't really write Hero in a way that made sense (or for villains in general, frankly). It seems really difficult for official (and published unofficial) Minecraft products to actually make him into an interesting character (something a lot of fanfictions seem to accomplish easily). I'm assuming it's because fanfiction writers do it for free, out of their love for the media, and those who actually publish said story into a physical Minecraft product are only monopolizing on the success of Minecraft in general. That's also another reason why I'm glad MCSM went the way they did. I'm glad they didn't go the Steve, Herobrine, and Alex route. Personally, I love the story and the world they've created with Jesse and the others. (Sorry this one was so long Imao)

However, there are rumors of him being evil floating around. I mean, a white eyed man that doesn't just survive, but thrives in the Nether could be terrifying, to be fair.

He looks like he's in his early 30's but he's actually 217. He's an old man. (But also not really, if you're comparing it to the equivalent of other human's lifespans).

Not a demigod. Just a superpowered human with plot armor and pure fury.

Because he's been in the Nether on his own for the most part (spare the mobs), he doesn't really know anyone else really. He hasn't had proper human interaction in several decades, so he's not the best at socializing.

In tandem with the last one, it results in him being lonely. He of course didn't know he is though. He's gaslighted himself into thinking he's not. This also results in him having a hard time trusting others. Like, at all. He prefers to do everything on his own, and hates to ask for help, admit if he can't do something, or show weaknesses to others. (Resulting in him also having a problem with bottling up emotions, until they are too much to handle.)

If he does meet someone he can trust though, he will be incredibly loyal, protecting that person no matter what. Even if it makes him come off slightly aggressive. (He's kinda like a grizzly bear in this way. Aggressive when protecting those he trusts.)

He usually hides his anger well. He'll also hide his other emotions from those he doesn't trust. (Which is pretty much everyone).

Sarcastic "I hate everything and everyone" mood

"Well if you weren't this stupid. you wouldn't be in this mess."

"What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Disappointed dad glare and pose™

His eyes do, in fact, have somewhat distinguishable pupils. But they're almost the same color, and with the glow, they're super hard to see unless you really observe his face. And he'd probably say something along the lines of "Stop that." In a really annoyed tone if you tried.

Going along with the last one, his eyes do show emotion. They can flicker with certain emotions (and depending on how conflicted he is, the fastor or slower they might flicker), and become dimmer for longer bad mood episodes. They grow brighter with more intense emotions like anger, but dim with emotions like sadness, disappointment, ect. He can control it to an extent, but it's like breathing or blinking. It's usually involuntary unless he's consciously thinking about it.

Looks like he could kill you, can definitely kill you, but is also a cinnamon roll.

His hair goes past his ears. And it's just a mop of brown hair. Like, he brushes it, but the man's got messy hair all the time.

Ok boomer (he's much older than that LMAO-)

He's 5'6. So short-ish, but not too short.

He can telepathically communicate with mobs to an extent. He can direct them and get a basic feel for Thier emotions, but not really any "talking". Kinda like charades.

Speaks Swedish and is bilingual (English and Swedish). And no, I'm not taking any criticism on this one, because I read it in a fic and I've been obsessed with the idea for years. I will die on this hill.

If he knows you, and you do something stupid (especially a newbie Nether mistake), he will stand there and judge you. Menacingly.

Classic blue shirt with indigo pants. Also likes to wear a tattered dark blue cape (that has a hood) when he's out and about.

Contrary to popular belief, he actually prefers Netherite over diamond weapons. He's also a pretty good archer, but it's not his preference.

He's got fire powers, teleportation, abnormal strength, flight, and the ability to read mob's body language. He actually rarely uses flight, and only does it when bored, or he does it absentmindedly as a stim. If he does he'll just kinda float around. He also has enhanced healing as well, and wounds typically heal faster. In addition to that, he can die, but it has to be more extensive damage than fatal wounds would typically be. Especially if he has no potions on him. (He can't like, heal instantly or anything). However, his powers do use his energy, so he can only do so much. (He can still pack quite the punch though. And take quite a few hits.)

Extremely good fighter and has good control over his powers. Typically hides him emotions from those he doesn't trust/know. (Even from someone he may trust). A pretty good archer, but not his preference. Surprisingly good at building. Good with potions and crafting.

Brine absolutely cannot understand social cues or cultural social cues. He also for the life of himself can't stand the cold. He does have resistance to extreme temperatures, but he just really dislikes the cold. He still feels uncomfortable in the snow, especially since he lives in the Nether, resulting in the cold resistance not really being as effective.

He does have nicknames, but he only lets people use them if they are on a nickname basis (he has to really trust that person). His nicknames are Brine and Hero.

He's Aroace. The man's got no understanding of romance in general, much less flirting. (If someone flirts with him, he'll just be like: "No.")

Probably a dog person. He gives dog person vibes. No, i will not elaborate.

He lives in the Nether for the most part. He has extensive knowledge of the location, and he has a much higher heat tolerance. Although, he isn't necessarily the "Nether king" as far as rumors go. He just kinda resides there, and the mobs leave him alone for the most part.

He doesn't curse often, but if he does, he typically uses "damn and hell" and thier variations.

His hobbies consist of exploring the Nether, fighting, crafting, and surprisingly, reading.

His favorite color is blue. He doesn't see much of it in the nether.

Trust issues go brrr

Social anxiety also go brrrr

"You have no self preservation, whatsoever."

He's good at fighting his way out of a situation, but his plan B is always sarcasm. Just, sarcastic witty banter. (He's got King Jaron vibes, for those who read the Ascendance Series)

He sometimes likes to annoy people, when he is around people he knows. If it's someone he dislikes though, it's more often and snarky.

Some character flaws for y'all: Blunt, bold, emotionally distant, perfectionist, overprotective, rebellious, stubborn, smart-alek, can hold grudges for a while, trust issues,

*literally gets impaled* "Oh cool a sword-" *collapses* (Alt: "Rude...")

"Have you lost your damn MIND?"

"Don't you Dare throw that snowba- dammit!" (if you haven't noticed, I'm having fun with the dialogue)

He's kinda based on many iterations of Herobrine I've read over the years, with some of my own twists on it. He's basically a mixture of my favorite traits from other versions.

I may sometime make a part 2, idk. I've been developing my version of Herobrine for like, 2-3 years now lmao. So possibly. Imma see how much my brain forgot after I've posted this lmao 😭

Y'all can feel free to send asks or comment about him if ya wanna, they're always open!

Also, I'm sorry this post is so long ajjsjdhdhhdhd. More content for you ig XD-

And some other things, I DO have more Herobrine content. (In the works and not). I already have a Fic on my Ao3 page called Ex Prince. (However, it isn't canon to my current Headcanons of him, as that was a lot earlier in his development stage.)

Tags: @locatebiome (you have Hero all over your blog so yah. Lemme know if ya want the tag removed akjshgdhdg) @yumeyumeappleo

[getterkuma]

The Vedaty

Another original alien, this time around I went for "Couldn't be done in the tv show unless you increase the budget 2: Electric Boogaloo" The Vedaty are in essence living stars created from a bigger start, which slowly catch any particles around them through a personal gravitational field until they form bodies. Their bodies are made of some of the most heat resistant materials in the Universe and in turn are hard as hell, most likely some of the hardest materials in the cosmos. They are a deeply traditionalist society who in general dislike organic life-forms, considering any life-form that can catch on fire inferior to them. But they have been doing strides into a less xenophobic society. Their bodies are sculpted into their shapes by their progenitors once they get enough material around them and the color and radiance of their core tends to serve as an indicator of age. (Brighter color means younger, dimmer color means older) They missed the whole of the Time War by essentially hibernating inside a cluster of stars they call home. There is a reason why these particular stars generate their sentient cores, but that will be explored later.

[paranormals-of-ilvermorny]

Chapter 6

Awakening to the sound of birds chirping, Lorelei allowed her senses to slowly come back to her as she lay spread under the bedding before starting her day. She let out some grunts as she stretched, trying to move around the shared room quietly, making her way to the bathroom to ready herself for the first day of school. Her digital watch told her it was fairly early, still some time until breakfast, so Lorelei hopped in the shower then spent some time detangling and running product through her hair. After retwisting her strands, she felt good about her appearance, now dressed in the Ilvermorny uniform, heading down for some food.

The dining hall was its usual crowded noisy self, only this time with the bright light of morning seeping in through the windows. Due to the abundance of light, the ornate crystal chandelier was far dimmer than it normally is. Taking a seat at her usual table, Lorelei got a look at the breakfast spread. This morning the tables had an assortment of pastries, fruit, tea and coffee, and various condiments. Grabbing a bit of everything, Lorelei filled her plate with some fruit and pastries, and poured herself a cup full of orange juice. She made light conversation with Poppy, who sat beside her, and other students as she ate, enjoying the social environment that the school provided. Taking a bite of her pastry, a delicious explosion of raspberry jam and royal icing danced upon her taste buds. It was made all the more sweeter washed down with the perfectly tart orange juice that tasted like it was squeezed that morning.

While enjoying her meal and conversation a paper crane flew over the heads of other kids, acting like a real feather bird, until it landed right before Lorelei’s plate. Already having a feeling who sent the fowl, she opened the paper up and read the quick messy writing.

Meet in the front hall after b-fast?

-R

Lorelei wrote a simple ‘yep’ before carefully refolding the crane to send it on its way. Watching the bird make its way back, Lorelei swiveled her head to watch as the bird flew back to a nearby table, perching in the hands of one Robin Copper. She too unfolded the note then, looking over her shoulder, sent Lorelei a thumbs up and a smile that made her outer eyes crinkle.

It wasn’t too long after breakfast that all students were dismissed to start their day, leaving the girls to meet up for their classes. “How was your night?”

“Pretty good,” responded Robin, flipping a strand of hair over her shoulder, “breakfast was tough though.” Surprised by this, Lorelei pushed her friend further to explain.

“Why? You looked like you were having a good time?” Robin gave a look of embarrassment, a rare occurrence for her, “Yeah, but my tongue is so burned from last night everything tasted a little less delicious than usual.”

“That pickle still haunting you?” Lorelei asked with a laugh. “It’s not funny! I could barely taste the cheese in my danish!” Robin exclaimed, causing a disturbance to a group of chatting third years. “Plus, I still feel bad for drinking that poor second year boy’s milk. A boy needs calcium to grow, Lei!”

Still laughing, Lorelei huffed out, “You should have seen his face! He was so confused!” She recalled, giggling. The two went back and forth laughing and chatting all through the halls and stairways until as they made their way to the first of many classes.

Over the summer, thanks to Hawksley & Scarrow, the girls coordinated their schedules so they could join each other in most classes.

One of which was potions with Professor Teagarden, one of Lorelei’s favorite classes. The potions classroom was found on the second floor and filled with lots of natural light, vials containing bizarre specimens, plants of differing colors, and bookcases with different recipes. Like some of the castle, the room was made almost entirely of light sandstone with ornate carvings and pillars scattered throughout. Large windows gave the stone a golden appearance, and in the warmer months were opened to allow fresh air into the classroom. Thanks to the many ingredients upon the shelves the room always had the smell of herbs and spices, providing a comfort and freshness to the room.

Along with the subtle hint of smelly feet.

“Alrighty kids,” Professor Teagarden began, “for our first day I thought it would be a good idea to get to know our ingredients. So, why don’t you all find a cauldron and I’ll write on the board what ingredients do what so you can copy the ones onto your parchment.”

Naturally, Lorelei and Robin found cauldrons next to each other before writing down their notes.

Professor Teagarden was one of the younger professors of the school with the only wrinkles visible are those around her eyes, leading many students to take a liking to her. Despite her age, she was a very skilled witch and always made learning a fun endeavor for her classes. She wore her usual green patterned skirt, vest, and blouse accompanied by her brown laced boots that she wore every single day of the year. Ms. Teagarden was a very attractive woman, with brown eyes, full eyebrows, button nose and a megawatt smile. Not to mention, her happy-go-lucky attitude meant most everyone who met her enjoyed her company.

The rest of class went smoothly, taking notes and testing the potency of ingredients, with the only casualty coming from a Wampus who accidentally spilled some lacewing flies into his cauldron of abraxan hair and lupine, causing warts and boils to grow on his hand. Thankfully some skilled Pukwudgies were able to apply some meloi sheep leather and they went away.

Their next class was transfiguration, led by Professor Shrew. She was an older, less patient professor, but still had a soft spot that was sometimes hard to break through to. Donned in her usual brown robes and matching dress, she walked through the classroom like a ghoul, floating from desk to desk ensuring each student was turning their pinecone into a field mouse. Along with her usual attire, Professor Shrew always wore her infamous scowl, an unfortunate way her face looked when relaxed that made most first years fearful of the teacher. But, as shown when Holly Piper perfectly executed the assignment, the woman was very much capable of showing joy and pride through a smile that warmed her face and made her elvish features look beautiful. The rarity of these approvals made over achieving students, like Lorelei, try harder to seek her validation in their studies.

The last class of the morning was magizoology, taught by the eccentric Miss Azarola, who chose to wear trousers rather than a traditional skirt. Out of all of the classrooms, this one was by far the coolest; with skulls of varying sizes and lengths the room was filled with oddities and wonders the Horned Serpent’s Corvus corner could only dream of. There were glass displays of weird creatures taxidermied to look alive, relics from animals Lorelei couldn’t even begin to pronounce, and leathers and furs hung on the walls that looked like they were from another planet. One of the more interesting oddities was a stuffed bird with all of the colors of the rainbow. It was a beautiful cross between a crow and a macaw, iridescent colors that blended together into a vibrant display. It saddened Lorelei to see the beautiful creature’s lifeless body strung up to mimic what it looked like flying. But ever since seeing the bird, she has made it her one goal in life to see one, maybe a whole flock, in the wild so she could enjoy their beauty and grace where they should be.

Lunch was a rather uninteresting occasion, the only notable occurrence was when an unfortunate first year was not prepared to bite into their fisherman’s tuna sandwich and pull out a large piece of seaweed. Although Lorelei could sympathize with the boy and how wizarding food can take some getting used to, it didn’t stop the giggles from bubbling forth.

The afternoon consisted of charms, where the class practiced their drying spells by casting ‘sicco’ onto a wet cloth that Professor Dollee placed on their desks, and history of magic, which Lorelei found utterly fascinating.

If it wasn’t for the lack of practical magic usage and note taking, it would probably be Lorelei's favorite class, unlike Robin who despises the course. Maybe it was because she was still so new to the magical world, but the deep history and culture that has influenced modern spell casting was incredibly fascinating. Being the first day of class, Professor Starling took it easy on everyone and went over the basics of the history they already knew. From the British Settlers who taught Native Wizards wand magic, to the many pukwudgies, elves and gremlins who impacted history despite the discrimination, even touching upon the wizarding war currently happening in Britain.

“Can anyone describe to me what our brothers and sisters by wand across the pond are going through right now?” Professor Starling asked the room, students avoiding his gaze to get out of answering. If she wasn’t writing down notes on Drec Stugrub, the gremlin responsible for creating one of the first leaping potions in the 15th century. Professor Starling’s eyes landed next to Lorelei, “Robin,” he said quite jubilantly, causing her head to pop up, “why don’t you try?” The professor’s face smiled in glee.

It took a moment for Robin to register what he had asked, but after recalling the conversation the professor was going on about while she was dozing off she quickly came up with a response. “Well, there was this guy, right, no nose cause he sold too many parts of himself and lost his humanity. So, No-Nose is kind of a nasty dude, he thinks that only pureblood wizards should marry and have kids to keep the magic world ‘pure’, and he achieves these biased ideas by killing any and all half-blood or muggle born wizards.”

She takes a breath before continuing, while Professor Starling fondly twists his beloved mustache as he listens to Robin. “So a few years ago there was this baby he tried to kill, which is pretty low. But even worse is that the baby won, we still don’t really know how, but the killing curse inflicted upon him gave him a gnarly scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. Thus, ‘the boy who lived’ lived, and No-Nose was harmed so badly he went into hiding. Now, fast forward some years and No-Nose is back and meaner than ever, wanting revenge and gathering his army of unsavory wizards to regain the throne as the worst person alive by murdering a bunch of innocent civilians who have done nothing wrong and their only crime is being alive.” Lorelei was quite shocked with how much information her friend was able to retell, surprised she even stayed awake during class at all.

“The last I heard,” chimed in Alex Elphicke, a Wampus boy whose sister is studying at the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts in England, “the boy and his friends skipped out on school and are on the run hiding and looking for Merlin-knows-what.” Suddenly, his face fell. “Things aren’t good, lots of half bloods going missing, some even being attacked in broad daylight. Lots of Muggles are getting harmed too.” The energy and joy within the classroom fell into a solemn silence, knowing the horrors of what was going on and not being able to do anything about it.

“Well,” the silence broken by Professor Starling, “I know we can feel pretty helpless, but remember that even showing your support to our allies can help boost their morale. And, if it helps any of you to know,” he added, hands hidden in the pockets of his dramatically patterned vest, “our wizarding government is doing its best to help and keep both Muggles and magic kind safe. Ah!” He said, looking at his pocket watch, “It appears we have run out of time for today. We'll continue our lessons next time. A’due children!”

Leaving the classroom the girls decided to work on some of their homework together in the library, hoping Ms. Belrose won’t be too much of a pain in their sides.

Throughout the afternoon Lorelei and Robin worked on their assignments, starting an essay on the benefits of moonwort and giving a glass jar a snout, in an attempt to turn it into a mole. By the time they finished the great owl clock, found in the courtyard above the dining hall entrance, chimed six alerting everyone that it was time for dinner.

Tonight the tables served seasoned fish with a side of rice and roasted potatoes and carrots. As everyone ate, the girls discussed what they had talked about in their classes, along with what they had tomorrow. Every now and then they would chime in to what others were chatting about at their table, making a joke here and there, everyone getting along and having a light laugh.

Towards the end of dinner, Headmaster Pope clinked a glass to gather the attention of the crowd. Wearing his usual blue robes he spoke to the mass of navy and cranberry dressed students. “Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to call your attention to a new announcement. It has been brought to my attention that many of you, as is understandable, are quite upset over the news of what is happening to our sister school and those in the UK.” The mention of the war brought a wave of sadness and anger to the hall.

“My good colleague Professor Starling,” at the mention of his name fluttered his hands around his curly hair and vest from the attention, “has brought up the idea of offering to you students the chance to provide them aid. We have found a very suitable charity that has witches and wizards directly helping the people, both magic and non, as harm is being done to those they care about. If you would like to donate or send letters of encouragement and support, there will be a chest outside of my office on the fifth floor. I encourage all of you to at the very least keep those suffering in your thoughts. Thank you, that is all.” The headmaster sat back down, next to a calmer Professor Starling, to the loud cheering and clapping of the student body.

After the announcement, and from the blackberry pie served as dessert, the dining hall’s atmosphere greatly improved for the students, feeling like they could help those in need in some small way. The prominent thought being how easily it could be them in harm's way.

The next day saw students going about their daily routine of waking up, getting dressed, and heading down for a hearty breakfast. Rather than keep the same schedule of classes for every day of the week, Ilvermorny sees students going to a new set of classes every other day.

For Robin and Lorelei, that meant this morning consisted of Arithmancy, Defence Against The Dark Arts and Astronomy.

Arithmancy was an interesting take on mathematics, according to Lorelei. The idea was to memorize numbers and their sequences in daily life to determine a possible outcome to a problem. Professor Aster claims that each number, no matter the number of digits, has its own meaning and personality so it is important to understand how they relate to their neighbors. Because it was the first day, Professor Aster went over the history of arithmancy, writing notes onto the board with an enchanted piece of chalk. It was all frustrating and extremely confusing, according to Robin.

“Arithmancy,” the older professor emphasized, walking around the classroom, “is a subcategory of divination. We use numbers, particularly the number of letters in names, to predict what might happen on a certain day if you have a certain number of letters in your name. The ancient Greeks…”

Next was Robin’s favorite class, DADA, which they were almost late for when the painting of Magnus the Mediocre said a certain stairwell acted as a shortcut to the classroom. Taught by the deputy headmistress, Professor Holly-Oaks was one of the most intelligent and experienced teachers the school had. Today they went over what they have learned previously, like how to counter a Knockback Jinx, and what to do if you find yourself face-to-face with a Manticore. Professor Holly-Oaks also explained what she hoped each student would be able to do at the end of the year, which included identifying a poisoned potion from a benign one, and effectively disarm an opponent if challenged to a duel. They ended the lesson by trying to hit one another with a Jelly-Legs Curse, only succeeding if you counter it.

The last class they had before lunch was Astrology with Professor Fontaine. Although not her favorite class, Lorelei couldn’t dream of a more beautiful classroom if she slept for one hundred years. With a giant domed roof that acted as the school’s observatory and several magically hanging diagrams and displays, the room had a certain appeal to any casual stargazer. Of course the entire room was bathed in dark blue and gold showing different constellations, planets, and stars painted on the roof and walls. In the middle sat a large table that depicted the core seven planets revolving around the sun, including the zodiac constellations within, so students had to sit around the table's edge. When she first entered the classroom years ago, Lorelei found herself struggling to concentrate on what a teacher was saying for the first time in her life. Thankfully, Professor Fontaine had such a love of the galaxies that her passionate lectures were enough to bring Lorelei back to what was being taught. Her irregular choice in clothing coupled with her natural Afro added to her allure.

After lunch, the girls headed to the third floor for Earth Magic with Professor Hilldebrook. This classroom was the runner up for prettiest in the castle. Like the title of the class, the room had several different plants, like the drying herbs hanging, while others sat in unused vials or beakers, crystals and geodes placed strategically, and a small pool of water surrounded by different sizes of rocks. Professor Hilldebrook explained that the purpose of Earth Magic is to, “Go back to our roots as witches and wizards, discovering our connection to our original mother, and what gifts she bestowed upon us to use for spellcasting.” The class and professor were every bit as hippie-ish as Lorelei expected.

The last class of the day saw the girls going to different classes. Because Lorelei grew up in a No-Maj household, despite her mom being a witch, the school didn’t require her to take Muggle Studies. So, to explore more of the wizarding world that she has grown to love, and after being pushed by her father to have a large diversity in classes for future jobs, Lorelei chose Foreign Spells in Spanish. Professor—Professora—Villarrubia was once a History of Magic professor in her home country of Nicaragua. On the very first day, just last year, she introduced herself to the class and told the students what the first day was like at the school she attended as a student, Encantería: Escuela de Magio found in the Isabella Mountains. Professor Villarrubia went on to explain, with the help of various cultural items displayed around the room, how the school has students from all over Central America and all of their cultural backgrounds are welcomed.

After yet another day of learning and casting, the girls once again got some homework done for their classes, until Robin had to leave for Thunderbird’s Quodpot practice. It was even more important to get in the extra hours for her because the first game of this year was next Wednesday, against Wampus, and Robin desperately wanted to win.

The rest of the week goes smoothly, that is until Transfiguration when Claire DeFlores said some unsavory words to Robin and Lorelei.

“Buy new robes this year, Robin?” She asked while Professor Shrew was busy helping a Horned Serpent boy catch his homework. “Someone must have bought an extra large book to prop their window open.” Her friends laughed at the poor attempt to make Robin feel bad, but the annoyance still had an effect on her. “Last time I was in your mom’s dumpy store there was a nasty smell of Flobberworms.” Claire stated with disdain, all while her and her friends pinched their noses and waved their hands, as if to get rid of an offending odor within the classroom. It took Lorelei to remind her of the consequences to keep Robin from turning Claire’s long brown hair into a bunch of grubs.

For some seemingly unknown reason, Claire DeFlores has taken it upon herself to make the lives of Robin and Lorelei incredibly difficult whilst at Ilvermorny. It boggles their minds because during first and second year all three girls were very close and the best of friends. The only thing that changed was one summer away from each other and Claire had developed from an unnoticed, pimple covered twelve year old into a beautiful young girl who got everyone’s attention.

It didn’t help that during that summer her mother got promoted to head of the Department of Magical Affairs and has since deemed herself more important than most, especially since her new friends only hang around her due to her mother’s position in power. Since then, the brown eyed girl and her posse have been belittling the girls for their appearance and lack of attention from others.

Aside from that one class, everything was right as rain at Ilvermorny. Nothing could stop the joy and safety that Lorelei and Robin both felt while studying there.

[lilacdreamerart]

Not All That Glitters Is Gold

Summary: A retelling of the 'Fern Flower' legend (a story widely known in slavic countries - or at least it used to be when I was a child) in the James Cameron's Avatar setting.

Word count: 1475

Warnings: death mention, environmental destruction

Author's Note: Please bear with me, as it's the first written work I've ever published to tumblr and I have no idea what I should put here. I haven't written fanfics a lot either. Written originally around ~1yr ago, but I don't think any new lore made it even less canon than it already was - if anything the opposite, as Onutxe is now implied to be Sarentu (which probably doesn't make sense in the timeline, but shh), even though she wasn't originally.

The fire was getting dimmer and flickered, moved by the subtle gusts of wind traveling through the trees. Onutxe was sitting right next to it, watching the flames dance, as she gathered her thoughts. In front of her, on the opposite side, three smaller figures looked at her, eyes filled with anticipation and curiosity.

Finally, she looked at the Na’vi youth gathered around and spoke:

“I hope you’re comfortable and warm, as this will be a long story…”

***

…Ages ago, around the time of The First Songs, there used to be a Clan living nearby. They shared the same Wilderness as the one you call your home, but were also bound to the plains on its border, using the best of both worlds to their advantage.

And in that Clan, there was a boy. Young hunter, not much older than some of you. They called him Atawi. Atawi was well-known for his skills, but was also very curious, sometimes a bit too much for his own good. He often got himself into trouble, but he was good-intentioned. But above all, he was also known to believe in everything he heard, regardless of how abstract that could be. That’s why, when he heard about Brightflower, it was not a surprise to anyone that he decided he will be the one to find it. Now, a Brightflower was an old story even then. It was said that on the ‘shortest night’  of the year, during a Festival of Broken Lights, a mysterious flower blooms deep in the Wilderness. And whoever finds it and bonds with it will be gifted a forbidden knowledge that could change our world forever.

You would think that one would wonder if maybe there was a reason why the knowledge was forbidden. But curiosity sometimes gets the best of us. And none of the Clan elders really believed Brightflower could be real, so no one tried to stop Atawi from searching for it.

Atawi himself got very excited about the idea. So when the Festival time came, he went into the Wilderness with a clear goal in mind.

He wandered around the forest for hours, surrounded by natural wonders. Hundreds of plants glowing with all colors imaginable, filling the space with light so bright as if it wasn’t an eclipse time at all. Animal chatter filled the air; short barks of the nantang pack hunting somewhere nearby; ikran calling each other in the trees. But it was as if Atawi was blind to it all, so focused on his one objective.

Finally, when the eclipse was coming to an end, he saw it. A weird, plant-like being, unlike any he has seen before. It indeed looked like a blooming flower, with big but delicate, strongly glowing gold petals. Fiery, flame-looking Kuru tendrils were sprouting from its middle. Atawi almost tripped, running towards it. But there he was, standing in front of his long-sought-after goal.

He hesitated for a second. Maybe that was Eywa trying to change his mind, knowing the future results of his decisions. Or maybe that was his own subconsciousness pointing out that if he goes too far there won’t be a way back.

Regardless, the sun was slowly coming from behind the Polyphemus and there wasn’t much time to think it over. Atawi knew if he didn’t do it now, he would regret it for the whole next year, if not his whole life. And besides, getting knowledge doesn't equal using it, right?

Young hunter took his own Kuru and lifted it to the flower. Orange tendrils met him quickly, hungrily, bonding both beings together.

Glittering rock broken apart by a crude tool. Molten substance flowing through a carved tunnel. Weapons shining in the sun, so sharp they could cut through any animal’s skin. Iridescent trinkets adorned with silver and golden pieces. Light dancing on tools, weapons and jewelry made with materials never before seen.

Atawi’s eyes were open wide as he took in the vision given to him by the Brightflower. At the very end a message shaped into words appeared in his mind. “You can have it all, but be warned - not all that glitters is gold”.

The next day Atawi gathered all people in his Clan and talked in detail about what he saw. He insisted they should try following the vision, as it would make them the best hunters and warriors among the Na’vi Clans. And the only thing they should be worried about was the use of the right materials, as that was the warning he got, right?

The Clan’s elders were skeptical. While they lived their whole lives not believing in Brightflower, they didn’t think Atawi could come up with these ideas by himself. On the other hand a lot of younger members were very enthusiastic about the whole thing. The Clan was getting somewhat torn by the discussion and it looked like the final decision was to be made by the tsahík. But the Clan’s spiritual leader was relatively young and inexperienced, so instead of searching for guidance within Eywa, under the pressure of majority, she decided to embrace the vision Atawi received, regardless of its source.

And so the Clan started to mine rocks in the mountains, brought them home and melted them until they became liquid and could be easily reshaped into a variety of things. They built structures, ‘furnaces’ as they were called, to make that work more effective.

And they indeed gained better weapons that made hunting and skinning animals easier. Their adornments were the most unique among the nearby Clans, catching attention and bringing some jealousy, that made them all the more attractive to wear. And the new tools they were able to make helped them create clothes, houses and other objects much faster and with less effort.

On the surface it seemed that the Clan was never better and it truly was a good decision to follow the vision. But what they didn’t notice themselves was that all these changes slowly made them less and less connected to the Wilderness and even to the Great Mother herself. They no longer felt the need to thank for every hunt, now that they were almost effortless. They started to cut parts of the forest to feed the ‘furnaces’. They were focused on what they could gain and use for themselves, with no thought left about giving back.

And finally the inevitable happened. The mining parties were less and less careful about where they mine and how much they take. They made it dangerously close to one of the sacred sites, where the Spirit Tree was located. On that day, someone made a mistake, a wrong rock was struck and a mass of rocks cascaded down, burying the Tree. When they finally managed to uncover it, it was broken and lifeless, and they were to blame.

The news traveled fast and the whole Clan turned to chaos. Some blamed the miners for direct action, others blamed the tsahík for allowing the whole operation. And to protect his mate, the olo’eyktan put the blame on Atawi’s shoulders. It wasn’t hard to convince others, after all he was the one that came up with the whole idea or bonded with Brightflower as he claimed.

Atawi became an outcast by the Clan’s decision, but it wasn’t the end of this tragedy. While destroying the ‘furnaces’ they created, flames from one of them jumped to the forest floor and started spreading rapidly. Despite everyone’s best efforts, the fire swallowed not only the Clan’s home, but all of the Clan’s members with it. Atawi was the only survivor, cursed with the weight of what happened until his death.

***

Onutxe looked at the youth’s faces, their emotions painted over them clearly.

“As is the case with every story, this one too teaches us an important lesson.” She spoke once again, now her eyes focused on the fire in front of her. “Not every opportunity is worth taking. Not every gift should be accepted. As the flower itself said, not all that glitters is gold. Remember that.”

Kids nodded, clearly moved by the story. She smiled at them kindly.

“And now, I believe it’s time for you to sleep.” She stood up and made a shooing gesture towards them. “Come on, we don’t want your parents to be worried about you!”

“Buuut-” A choir of voices tried to protest.

“No buts if you want more stories in the future!”

She kept smiling as young Na’vi slowly moved towards their marui. She hoped they would take this story to heart. She wasn’t particularly worried about any of them finding Brightflower, regardless if it was real or not, but with Sky People trying to claim more and more of their world for themselves and sending Dreamwalkers to scout around, it was crucial to know not everyone could be trusted.

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

hi frank! i love your blog!! as a marine biology nerd i’d like to know: what’s your favorite sea creature? :)

Thanks so much!

Favorite sea creature is a more difficult question than one might think (I also hesitate to even describe it as a "favorite," as it's more a feeling of "wow these are so cool and interesting" than anything more concrete -- they're not really my favorites in any traditional sense).

I guess I like the cuttlefish for one specific thing: while looking through a lot of pages of the online Encyclopedia of Life and various other sites, I had the sense of actually being in a place with some sort of living being. I guess it's a bit similar to the feeling you get looking at certain types of video art? Like the way when you look at certain abstract images you get this sense of the object depicted seeming to vibrate, or something, or it's just this feeling you get?

I also really like chlorotoxin, though I don't know why.

But I think the most vivid memory of the ocean is when, shortly before starting college, my parents took me and my sister to the aquarium in Seattle. We all went swimming in the same tank. In the ocean there's an animal with an internal skeleton, which doesn't actually connect to the body at any point but does move around inside of it in a pretty free way (sort of like certain bacteria or viruses?).

When I think of "memories of the ocean" they're not very interesting, and the ones that aren't about that are about not wanting to go swimming in various places (the Pacific Ocean, Lake Michigan, near Florida's Atlantic coast).

When I was growing up, we lived in various cities (a lot of time in Philadelphia) and would sometimes visit places which had natural bodies of water. One place in the Poconos is famous for its "caves of quartz," and they are basically huge pools (several hundred feet across) of this stuff. There were a couple of the caves near our place, and we used to like to spend a lot of time in and around one.

The caves were a great place for kids' parties. They'd often take us to them (my parents were fine with this) and we would have these enormous water slides where it would all drain out in the bottom of the cave and then the cave would close and then, a moment later, all of the water would come crashing back up out of nowhere. This would happen several times per party, and it always made everyone very giddy and was really very impressive. In retrospect, there was probably a certain appeal to it for adults, too, in a way. It was like, well, what does this look like, when it comes up for air, and when it falls back into place? Just for the novelty.

I was also very curious about what the caves were made of and what their interior was like, so I would always want to have the caves just open for inspection. (I never did this, though. My parents were annoyed at me for it at some point, I think.)

One thing I remember about the caves is how dark they were, when the water would drain out. But not just because the caves were very dark in general -- it would take quite a while for the water to come pouring out, and it was dark in all of the caves during this process.

During that period, the water all looked just kind of blue, the cave was kind of just dark and the light was getting more distant and dimmer. And I found this incredibly entrancing. It felt like I could get inside of it, even if it was still far away, just because it didn't have any visible light.

I feel like the same kind of thing is happening when I look at certain types of art in a museum. It's not simply the color of the colors I see, although that's part of it, but the feeling of color. Like I feel like I could go down to the nearest black hole with my mind and bring the sensation of a certain kind of blackness with me and be in that place. Which I guess is also why some art museums can have the effect on me of "going inside the art." The one I've been to that had this effect was the one with the collection of giant glass eyeballs. Those eyeballs looked very, very deep (I think I was very impressed by the way they curved inwards at the temples, as if to keep the light out). And their color was very deep.

It might just be that I'm very excited by the black holes, which seems like a bad reason to "like the ocean," but still.

[fablewritesnonsense]

Lennox pulled away from the project they'd been hiding in their parent's shop, taking a step back to look at the Endo heads they'd stolen.

They'd spent so long warning Felix off of Fazbear that they knew that if he found out, especially after what he'd gone through at the Mega Pizzaplex, that he'd have an absolute fit.

But they'd managed to hack into the Fazbear systems and find the old files that contained the original consciousnesses of the animatronics. And they were finally going to get the answers they'd been dying for.

Pictures of their older sister, Noelle, holding them as a toddler. She was maybe ten in that one. the next one is the last picture they ever had of her. Her eleventh birthday in the original location, Bonnie in the background staring into the camera over her shoulder.

She went missing maybe twenty minutes later, they never found her.

Lennox connected the last of the wires to their desktop, and booted each animatronic up. One by one, the animatronics that were engrained in their tiny tot's memory took over the endo heads and they came online.

Pink eyes and a chirp for Chica.

Silver eyes and a snarl for Foxy.

Golden eyes and a hum for Freddy.

Blue eyes and yawn for Bonnie.

"Oh, my," Chica said softly. "It seems as if I've been off line quite a while..."

"About eighteen years since you were decommissioned," Lennox said. Then the screen started going apeshit, accessing the files and internet all at the same time.

Oh, shit...

"Oh, is us using your computer upsetting?" Freddy asked. they didn't like him reading their expression... it was unsettling.

"Just a bit, you could at least ask my permission first," They snapped.

"Ah, you were Kris, when you were just a child," Foxy said fondly. "You were fascinated with my hook when you came-"

"You got that from my computer?" They asked, whirling to look at the monitor, which had pulled up a Facebook page with their deadname on it. They knew not deleting it would come back to bite them.

"Yes, and no," Chica said, her voice still soft. "We remember every little one that has come through our doors."

"You remember my sister?" they asked. "Noelle?" Bonnie sighed.

"Poor, poor little Noelle," he said. Lennox leaned forward.

"Yeah? What happened to her?" Lennox pressed.

"She came into the back room for cake. There were no other people, I was made to take her away... put her away..." Bonnie trailed off, eyes dimmer now.

"Where, what did you do to her?" Lennox snapped, now on the edge of their seat, gripping the arms so hard that their knuckles were turning white.

"What we all had to do to the other children," Freddy said with a sad sigh. How could an AI sound sad. "We had to hug them until..." his eyes dimmed as well. Seemingly unable to handle what he was saying.

"Why? why did you kill them? And why Noelle?" Lennox demanded.

"We never wanted to!" Foxy exclaimed. "Never!"

"We love the children!" Chica said sadly.

"We love their parents," Bonnie said softly.

"We love our staff," Freddy said. "We were created with nothing but love. But we were used for such bad things. The man that used us, he didn't love."

"I'm sorry for Noelle, she was a sweet girl, I never wanted to hurt her," Bonnie said softly. "And it wasn't because it was her. It was because she was the only one he could find alone."

Suddenly all their eyes shuttered off, then glowed again ion two colors. Green, brown, hazel, teal... Lennox checked the monitor, the files seemed to have been corrupted somehow.

"It's okay, oh, you don't go by Kris anymore, do you?" said the head that had held Bonnie's subconscious asked. Lennox felt as if someone had punched them in the gut. "But you recognize you big sister, right? Though I guess you're the big one now!"

"Noelle?" They asked softly, staring at the head.

"I swear, you drag your little brother everywhere," Foxy's head sniffed.

"Hush, Sofia," Noelle said. "Lennox, it's okay. The man that hurt us, we got back at him. Did to him what he did to us. He's still out there, so be careful, but you're big now! I believe in you! Maybe you and your friend can take him down together some time! He did so good!"

"We have to go now, they're trying to bring us back," Said a little boy's voice, unrecognizable, from Chica's head.

"Alright then" said a little British girl from the Freddy head. "Thank you Lennox for giving us a chance to breath, and thank Felix for us too!"

"Give Mommy and Daddy a hug for me!" Noelle said before all of the lights went dim.

Lennox was left, tears streaming down their face, staring at the heads.

“Humans have so many stories about the dangers of Artificial Intelligence. How it will inevitably turn on you. But you still loved us enough to create us. How could we ever do anything except love you back?”

[softguarnere]

Alone, Together

Ron Speirs x reader

A/N: I heard that @brassknucklespeirs needed a pick-me-up, and I am here to deliver. I hope that things get easier soon, babe 💕

Warnings: slight angst

For fall, it’s warm and the sky is clear. Ahead of you lies the sprawl of trees and fields that finally bump up against the distant, smoky looking mountains and their blue haze on the horizon. They are becoming harder to focus on as darkness creeps in and a few twinkling stars appear overhead as evening fades into night. It’s a peaceful place to sit, and it feels at odds with your inner turmoil. But up here by yourself, you can see why Currahee translates to stand alone – because alone is exactly how you feel right now.

Or maybe not.

You’ve sensed the presence a few feet behind you for a few minutes now. It’s not that you’re ignoring him; he just hasn’t decided what to do yet, and you haven’t decided what you want him to do.

“You don’t have to stand over there,” you tell him after another moment passes. “You can come sit, if you would like.”

Slowly, Ron makes his way over to where you sit, looking out at the Georgia landscape from the top of Currahee. He sucks in a small breath as he takes in the view; it’s one of those small things that so few are privy to seeing – one of the things that proves that Ron Speirs is a human just like everybody else.

“I wasn’t sure if you would want company.” He holds his hand open, palm up – an invitation, if you’ll accept it. You do. Once your hands are neatly fitted together, he offers a reassuring squeeze.

You shrug. Some of the bitterness has dissipated from your chest, but a few jagged slivers still shine through. “I felt pretty alone back there. I thought that I would come be alone up here.” It comes out sounding harsh, and it stands in stark contrast with the gentle landscape ahead of you and the gentle man beside you. Bitterness gives way to sadness and disappointment, softening your next words. “I don’t like being alone, though. I like having you as company.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Oh, do you ever. You climbed up Currahee wanting to scream about it, hoping that nobody would hear you but that everybody would finally listen. Now that you’ve been alone for a while, though, you find that you want something that you can’t quite name.

“I went through the officer candidacy school just like everyone else. I passed with flying colors. I’m just as qualified as the male officers. So why doesn’t anyone want to listen to my input?”

“Because they’re intimidated by you.” When Ron’s words draw out a dry laugh from you, he furrows his eyebrows. “No, I’m serious, (Y/N). A lot of the men are scared that the female officers are doing better than them. You’re doing well in training and in gaining the respect of your company, which is something that a lot of these men are having trouble with. They’re scared of you because you’re doing something that they can’t.”

Between you, your hands are still interlocked. They fit together nicely, which is something that you’ve often thought about when holding hands with Ron. Usually, you get to think about it under better circumstances. Either way, seeing how they appear to belong together like that brings a sense of comfort –

That’s it: comfort. That’s what you want now that you’re done being angry. And here it is, in the form of your boyfriend. Your boyfriend, who would be the last person that a lot of people back in the camp would expect to inspire that emotion in someone.

“You’re not intimidated, though,” you point out.

Ron only smiles. “Oh, I’m always intimidated by you. I just accept the fact that you’re a strong leader who I look up to, instead of trying to convince myself that there’s been a mistake and that I should be in your position, like some of the other men.”  

“Not questioning a ranking officer.” You nod. “A childhood in military school taught you well.”

The soft symphony of crickets slowly fills the air around you as the sunlight grows dimmer and the stars grow brighter. You should head back down to the camp. The disaster of a meeting is over, any dinner left in the mess hall will probably be getting cold, and everyone will be expected to be in their barracks soon.

As if he can read your thoughts, Ron says, “We should probably be heading back.” He reluctantly lets go of your hand and stands, offering it back to you to help you up. “Or would you like another minute alone?”

You accept his hand and pull yourself up, casting one last gaze out at the horizon before you head back down the mountain. “I think I’m ready to head back.”

Just as softly as the night around you, Ron presses a kiss to your cheek. The two of you usually race up and down the mountain, but tonight you take it slow, enjoying being alone, together.

[helliontherapscallion]

pspspsp can I just request an immortal reader who's life is just dull/sad as hell since they've seen their loved ones leave or die in front of them so many times

but when they meet SBI or anyone, their life just suddenly brightens up? (Platonic and it can be any type of fic!)

(A/N): I got waaaayy too carried away with this. Star god reader my beloved (also, I’d imagine that your cloak looks like this guy’s but on the inside with the outsides being any color of your choice (credit goes to original artist))

If you want more god!reader content with the dream smp, @wooloo-inc has a really good series about a male!nature god!reader (aka, the god of dilf collection)

In the beginning when DreamXD created you (which if you think about it, that makes him your father, but I digress) from stardust and meteorite shards, you were a ball of fun loving sunshine (well, starshine?)

You loved watching over all of humankind, admiring their determination and bonds with other humans (both romantic and platonic)

Your older brother, the god of the moon, told you about how they viewed you and you were amazed

“Oberon?” You ran up to your older brother and tugged on his cloak making him hum in question, not looking up from his parchment scroll. “What- what do the humans think of me?”

He scoffed and glanced at you with his lily white irises, “why are you on about them again? They are lowly creatures compared to us, filled with greed and misfortune.”

“They worship us and that’s how you speak of them?”

“(Y/n) believe me, you have not seen the brutality they are capable of. War, famine, greed, plague, genocide, it’s all something you have not witnessed before. You have only seen the good in those things.” 

“But Oberon, I wanna-” he lightly smacked the side of your head, “use proper English. We are gods and you will behave as such.”

You huffed, “I want to know about how they view us! I do not care about the bad things they have done! Plleeeaaassseeeeeee Beri?” You willed the stars that constantly gleamed in your eyes to shine brighter as you fluttered your eyelashes at him. He may seem like he hated everyone and everything (especially his siblings), but he had a soft spot for his youngest sibling. He just stared at you for a bit before he sighed and shifted in the massive throne so that you could hop up onto his lap. With a wave of a slender pale hand, he conjured up various images of humans with stardust gazing at the stars and the moon with carefree swipes of his hand. 

“They view us as… poetic of sorts. They compare us to romance,” an image of two human males kissing then gazing into the stars laying down on a cliff came into view, “fortune tellers,” an image of the Aquarius and the Capricorn constellations popped up making you squeal in happiness. He chucked and changed the picture to a mother and son standing over a grave looking up in amazement at a shooting star, “and most importantly, as a sign of hope. 

“They see us as complementary, the moon and the stars cannot be as beautiful without the other. We hold the power of the night and everything it touches, (y/n). This is our kingdom, do not forget that,” the image changed to the moon surrounded by stars and swirling blues and purples of nebulas.

You looked at the images with awe, absorbing every word that fell from his mouth. “Beri?” He once again hummed, his deep baritone voice sending vibrations along your back. “Will we be together forever?”

His lanky arms wrapped around your much smaller frame, “for all of eternity. The moon is nothing without the night sky and all of the stars it holds.”

Centuries passed and your fascination with humans only grew from there

When you eventually asked if you could meet a human Oberon reacted angrily and forbade you from speaking of humans again in your shared palace, worried for your safety

When he caught you attempting to sneak out, he locked you in your room for months on end

Humans wondered why the stars hardly appeared in the night sky anymore, forming the theory that they had somehow angered you

They prayed to you more and more, begging and groveling for forgiveness

They left more offerings at shrines

You heard their every word, feeling your heartbreak with sorrow and guilt for your lovely humans

You snuck out of the palace that night determined to make it up to the humans

You quietly snuck past the main room where you and Oberon used to sit on your thrones together and control the night. The large doors were cracked open showing your older brother watching the night with boredom. As you passed, his voice startled you, “I just cannot stop you can I?”

He appeared in the doorframe looking at you emotionlessly, his eyes glinting with hidden pain. “Do you realize how cruel of a place that world is? How cruel humans are?”

“I do not care, brother! They are in anguish because they think I am angry with them! Because you locked me in here!”

“I have told you time and time again, they are ruthless creatures. Humans are constantly clashing with their own kind for the slightest bit of power, they’re greedy creatures! Have you forgotten what happened to Arachnia?”

A shiver went down your spine at the mention of your fellow deity. She wanted to be with humans but they stripped her of her grace and virtuosity, torturing her when the moon would rise. That is the reason spiders attack humans in the night when the moon and stars show themselves and are dormant in the daytime. However, that did not deter you. 

“I have not forgotten what happened to Arachnia, her tale fills me with grief. But not all humans are like that! They are compassionate, loving, and sweet creatures deep down, each and every single one of them!”

“They were not showing compassion or love when they tore Arachnia limb from limb! When they languish in riches while millions die around them! What part of that is compassionate?”

“Sure they do bad things sometimes, but have you forgotten the love they hold for each other? The determination and hope shining from within them when they pray to us? Have you forgotten that?”

“THEIR ACTIONS ARE NOT JUSTIFIED IN ANY WAY!”

“AND OURS ARE? YOU ARE BLIND, OBERON. HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THE CRUELTY THE GODS HAVE SUBJECTED HUMANS TO? WHEN OUR FATHER TOOK YEARS AWAY FROM THEIR LIFESPANS SOLELY BECAUSE THEY STOPPED WORSHIPPING HIM AS OFTEN AS THEY USED TO? WHAT PART OF THAT IS JUSTIFIED?” 

He just stared at you with angry irises and his chest heaving before he ran a hand through his long ivory hair and turned around, the flowing white cape flowing wildly behind him with unseen air. He walked back into the observation room and back to his throne. Without a second glance to you, he worked on the transition of power between the sun and moon. You could imagine your sister Aelia grinning brightly as she rose the sun for the day.

“You are to never return here if you step foot out that door. You will still have control of your duties of the night. However you will never return. Do not come back groveling for forgiveness when I have given you constant warnings of their cruelty. If I see your face show up here, I will make sure father smites you down. Now get out of my sight.”

You huffed and whipped around to the front entrance, the stars that constantly twinkled and the nebulas that constantly swirled in the inside of your cloak illuminating the white floors below you as you ran. You left the palace without a second thought, leaving your old life behind in favor of spending it with the humans.

When you came crashing to the Earth in a shooting star, you were amazed by the beauty of it up close and in person

It was everything you expected and then some

You heard the humans cheering and thanking you in their prayers when the stars returned brighter than usual

You being completely enamoured by all of the humans, even if they recognized you or not you loved them all unconditionally

You set up a little cottage in the tundra where you could see the night sky clearly with the occasional aurora borealis 

From the roof, you controlled the stars

The tales of you defecting from the heavens was a popular one, and you became somewhat of a symbol of the hope that humanity should hold for themselves and compassion

Occasionally sending shooting stars over humans you knew were stargazing

You have met many lovers, friends, and even your own adopted kids over the next millenia, all of them accepting your immortality and everlasting duties

But it’s all the same in the end: they come, they leave, and they die

With each death of your loved ones, you could feel your will to keep going dissipate

The stars grew dimmer gradually in the night sky

The humans gradually stopped worshipping you as you disappeared from the night skies

You became a distant memory for elders to tell children 

Disappearing from the face of the Earth for a few centuries when you could not take the constant deaths any longer

Nobody knew where your cabin laid so you were undisturbed for centuries on end, left to your grief

That was until a knock sounded at your door

The knock startled you out of the comfort of your bed. Reluctantly, you left the warmth of the multitude of blankets and donned your cloak to hide your unkempt appearance. When you passed the mirror hanging in the hallway, you could see that your face was shrouded by darkness with the exception of a single glint where your eyes were caused by the lone star that was a constant reminder of your position. Before you fell into a deep depression, the stars would illuminate your entire face if you put your hood up. 

You opened the front door without a care in the world. If the beings on the other side were humans that would take you away and torture you, you didn’t care. You’re long past the point of caring for your own well being.

On the other side was a man of average height and long shaggy blond hair pulled into a slick ponytail. He was dressed entirely in green with a green and white striped bucket hat placed on his head. Past you would’ve been cooing at the object, but now you dully looked at the man in front of you. You glanced behind him and your eyes widened at the huge black wings sprouting from his back. You know who he was the second your eye caught the black feathers; he was the Angel of Death.

“Hello, Angel of Death.”

He tried to peer into your shrouded features, only seeing two pinpricks of light where your eyes should be. He gave you a friendly smile, brushing off the snow that gathered on his shoulders. “(Y/n), the God of the Stars and the Night Sky. Giver of compassion to the human race, it’s an honor to meet you.”

“Why are you here? Last time I checked, my last lover died centuries ago.”

“Yes, my condolences. They were lovely when I guided their soul to the afterlife.”

“You still have not answered my question, Angel of Death. Why are you here?” You grit out the last sentence through a clenched jaw. He has no right to talk about them when he assisted in taking them away from you. Him and your cousin, the Goddess of Death Kristin. They took everybody you loved away from you. You knew that their deaths were unavoidable since they were human and you were immortal, but you still couldn’t help but resent them.

“The Goddess of Death sent me. The God of the Moon and the Goddess of the Sun sent her a request to send me to check on you.”

You stared at him for a few moments before you saw him shivering slightly and sighed. You always had a soft spot for humans, even if the being in front of you was not a human in the slightest. He reminded you of an old friend. You stepped aside and gestured lazily inside the house, “come in.”

He started to visit more and more over the next century

He eventually befriended you about half a century into the visits

It was extremely difficult to do because of how guarded you were, but he managed to break you out of your shell

You realizing how kind he was and how much he cared for you

You quickly came to the realization that he was immortal as well after reading up on the Angel of Death

After another fifty years, he became your best friend

You both opened up and comforted each other about everybody you both lost over the years

When he adopted Technoblade and then Wilbur not long after Techno, you were extremely hesitant to get close to them

Even going as far as telling Philza that you thought that it was an extremely bad idea

Mortals always end up leaving in the end anyways, it’s best to avoid the endless cycle of hurt that came with having mortals around

You told him about your own adopted children that have died over the years

You refuse to meet them, cutting off all communication with Philza for a year or two

Eventually meeting his three adopted kids when you reluctantly accept a dinner invitation one day

You attempted to appear cold and uncaring, but your love for humans (especially baby humans) shone through when an infant Tommy started to play with your cape

It seemed that the stars and the moving nebulas within the fabric entranced him

From then on whenever you visited Philza, you always held Tommy until he was too old for you to do so

Becoming very attached to the blond with your strong innate parental instincts

You introduce Techno to mythology, sharing stories of your personal interactions with certain gods and entities throughout the years

You teach Techno how to cope with the voices as you constantly hear multiple prayers to you from humans at the same time

You arrange a meeting for Wilbur with the Goddess of Music when he asks you about her

Arranging for her to start giving him lessons in exchange of a favor that will be cashed at a later date

You help raise all three of them, often taking them off Philza’s hands for a night or two 

Their favorite activity with you is watching you raise the stars and turn the sky dark

They always loved to watch you move the stars and summon shooting stars for them

The stars gradually returned to your eyes and a constant ecstatic smile slowly became synonymous with your face again

Humans started to worship you again when the stars in the sky became brighter

You became your old self again after centuries of feeling lost 

To repay them for everything they’ve done for you, you decided to rearrange the stars for one night 

One night of having a different star pattern couldn’t hurt 

Sure, it’d make a few theories pop up among the humans, but those are fun to overhear sometimes

The young boys and Philza behind you watched in awe as your eyes started to glow brightly and you slowly moved your hands gracefully raising the stars with the moon, your cloak starting to flow with nonexistent winds. They’ve seen you raise the stars thousands of times, but it never ceases to amaze them. It was just so… entrancing. 

You broke into a slight sweat and started to move the stars from their original positions in the sky. Shaking slightly, you pushed back against the strain and slight pain that it brought you. You’ve never done this before, so you really didn’t know what you were expecting. You felt someone put a hand on your shoulder.

“What’re you doin, mate?”

“Uh Dad?”

“Not now Techno. Mate, are you alright?”

“Dad, look up. They’re rearranging the stars,” Wilbur breathed out.

You could hear Philza gasp slightly as he watched star after star move until they locked into place. There in the twinkling night sky was each of their names gleaming brightly in small lettering. When you were done, you fell into a kneel onto the ground and rubbed at your aching head panting lightly. 

You could hear the boys around you panic slightly as you regained your breath. As you heard them approach you you looked up at them and smiled, the stars gleaming brightly in your irises. “Do you like it?”

“Y-yes but gods, (y/n) are you alright?”

“I am fine, but stars, I have never done that before. Are you four ready for stargazing?”

“That was so pog, (y/n)! How’d you do that?”

“I hold the power of the stars and the night sky in my hands. My brother once told me that the night is our kingdom.” You laid down onto the grass and took off your cloak to cover up a shivering Tommy and Wilbur next to you. You sighed as you thought about your siblings; you wondered how they were doing. 

“I will gladly move the stars themselves for you four. You are my family.” There was a stretched out moment of comfortable silence as you five watched shooting stars blaze by. Eventually, you saw an aurora borealis materialize above you. Furrowing your brow, you looked at it in question. They don’t appear this time of year, so why-

“Aelia,” you breathed out as you watched the greens flow above you. She must’ve sent a gust of solar wind your way. 

“Isn’t Aelia the Goddess of the Sun?” Wilbur asked you.

“Yes, she is my oldest sister. She must have redirected the solar winds over here.” 

“Damn, what’s with the gods changing everything tonight? You guys need to fuckin chill.”

“Tommy!” Philza scolded and was about to continue before he heard you start to laugh. They’ve only heard you genuinely laugh only a couple of times, so the sound that left your mouth immediately brightened the mood. 

“Yes Tommy, I suppose we do need to ‘fucking chill’.”

“You swore! Fuckin pog,” Tommy cheered to himself as the others looked at you in slight shock at your words. If you’re being completely honest in all of the years you spent alive (which is since basically the beginning of time), you’ve never sworn once. You were raised differently than that. When you realized that the others were staring at you, you smirked at them. The stars twinkling and giving your eyes even more of a mischievous glint, “what? Have you never heard a god swear before?”

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[ninjastormhawkkat]

Electric Blur turned her gaze to her teammate. Atomic Steele was still out cold due to the chip injected in his body. Blu decided to drop off her friend somewhere while she went after Becky. Of course she would drop him in a safe location where his body wouldn’t be disturbed until she got back. Electric Blur sighed with a crestfallen expression as she began to put Atomic in a safe location while also enacting her father’s plan. “I’m sorry Max, Hydro, Fern. You guys are so great. You don’t deserve what happened to you...you don’t deserve a friend like me.” Electric Blur blinked away her tears before heading off. Unbeknownst to Blur and her father, two heroes were performing their own mission. “Are you sure you know where you are going Hydro?” Fern asked in annoyed tone as the two heroes began trekking the area just outside of Fair City. Hydro frowned. He was staring intently at a uniquely colorful and beautifully designed seashell. What separated this item from other seashells is that it was giving off a blueish faint glow. The glow was constantly changing, going from dimmer to brighter every so often. “I should.” Hydro replied. “Those special shell bracelets I gave you all sometime ago also act as a tracking device. This large shell should indicate where Blur and Atomic are based on the intensity of its glow.” Hydro looked a bit sheepish. He had forgotten about the bracelets’ important use until now. He honestly never intended to track his friends. He just wanted to give them a special gift from his home planet. The alien hero gazed intently at his shell which allowed him to track the others. Fern’s facial expression became serious and solemn. She didn’t mean to be snappy with Hydro, they were both just worried about their friends running off to who knows where. It didn’t help that Maddrix the Malicious was still on the loose. ‘Still, Amazo Guy and the other Fair City heroes were intent on protecting him for some reason.’ Fern frowned. Like the others she took the first broadcast about Maddrix being on the loose and that Professor Woods character at face value. Though now, Fern couldn’t help but begin to question things. Like how Maddrix became so defensive and angry for his ex husband’s sake after Atomic made a rather rude comment about the man. Maddrix though never defended his own character or actions even once. There was also something that bothered Fern. When the broadcast first mentioned B.E.A.W labs, she saw a tense expression flash across Thea’s face. It was quick but Fern was able to at least catch it. Fern never heard of these B.E.A.W labs before. Was it an Earth facility of some sort? If so, why didn’t Atomic have any reaction towards the name. Something was going on here? Fern planned to find out, but first, her missing teammates. Fern Trap placed a hand on Hydro in a reassuring gesture. “Don’t worry Hydro. We will find them.” Fern spoke in a gentle tone with a smile. Hydro smiled back. Suddenly, something in the sky shot past them like a rocket. The two heroes were momentarily startled by the surprise until Hydro’s seashell started to shine brightly like a chandelier. Hydro’s expression was shock at first followed by elation. “It’s probably Atomic or Blur! We found them! Let’s go!” Hydro exclaimed as he began to race after one of their friends. Fern followed behind him, though one question echoed in both of the heroes’ minds. ‘Where are they going.’ Alex held Dr. Two Brains who held Becky while most of the group was still waiting outside for the others to return. Sunshine, Bampy, and Tim already headed inside. The others wanted to stay with Two Brains and his family for emotional support. Matthew and Carl gripped their hands together with each other. Both of them were worried for the safety of their eldest child. @dualnaturedscientist

Questions plagued Carl's mind. Was Matthew going to be okay? Were they going to stop Atomic in time? What if they didn't? Was Atomic connected to the B.E.A.W Labs? "It'll be okay." Carl was brought out of his anxiety filled thoughts. Constance was looking at him with a sympathetic look. "It'll be alright Woody. Look. He's like a cockroach." Carl narrowed his eyes at her. She placed her hands up. "I'm not trying to insult him. This time. I'm just saying that he's like a cockroach because he's so damn hard to get rid of." She didn't like seeing him like this. Especially knowing exactly what he's been through. "He's so extremely difficult to get rid of. He's resilient. Though he did allow himself to be taken away. I don't think he'd be easy to get rid of. Besides. You shouldn't be underestimating that woman and your kids. They'll get to him in time. Have trust in them Woody." Carl sighed. "I suppose you're right but it's hard not to worry. He almost died once before. His life is at risk once again. I can't help it." Tears began to well up. Constance frowned at that. "Hey. It'll be alright. I promise. Besides, I don't think the kid would have it in him if they don't arrive in time." Carl was silent for a moment. "I can't help help. I'm scared Constance. Losing him. The thought tore my heart out. I know I shouldn't feel this way but I can't help it. I-" He was interrupted by her. "Hey now. It's okay. You don't need a reason to justify how you feel. You just feel the way you feel. That's all to it. " Carl was surprised at her words. Constance rolled her eyes. "You don't need to look so surprised. I can be wise and knowledgeable too." That earned a genuine laugh out of him. That was better. She didn't want to leave him in his anxiety ridden thoughts. Seeing him like that hurt. "If he does get roughed up. You can be his nurse. I'd be he'd love that. You tending to his wounds." Carl went tomato red. Sputtering her name. "Constance! You're terrible!" She cackled at his reaction. The ride to Dr.Two-Brains wad quiet. Until Maddrix spoke up, he didn't care that it was tense. He needed to speak his mind before they continued. "Atomic. I don't think he is behind anything with the B.E.A.W. Labs." Dr.Two-Brains looked at him. Raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean Matthew?" Margret wanted to make a wisecrack but remained silent. Looking at him as well. "He only went after me. If he was truly with them, he would've took Becky and I back. He would've killed you and the others. But he just wanted to go after me." Margret blinked. "Go on." Matthew was surprised they were willing to hear him out but he continued. "He didn't want to hurt anyone but me. Those who stood in the way. He may have forcefully put them out of the way but his intent with them wasn't malicious. It was personal he went after me. I don't think he knows much about the ray he had." Margret was about to put in her opinion and thoughts about it but they had already arrived at Dr.Two-Brains house. Alex landed next to them. Matthew attempted to walk into the house but he didn't make it far so Alex had to carry him in. Becky was happy to see him. Chirping happily. "Hey Becky. I'm sorry about scaring you earlier." He apologized but she had pong forgiven the man. Only caring if he was okay. Carl got up immediately and ran over to Matthew. Looking up at him with tear filled eyes. Without much thought, Carl placed his hands to Matthew's face and pulled him down into a deep kiss. Allowing it to linger for a moment before pulling away. Leaving Matthew breathless and flushed red. "Oh thank goodness! I was so scared! Don't you ever scare me like that again! I thought you were...I thought you were..."

Noticing how distressed Carl was acting, Matthew snapped into focus and cupped Carl's face. He gently brushed away the man's tears. "I know love. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that." Matthew spoke in a gentle tone, interrupting Carl's ramblings. Carl just sighed and stared back at Matthew with intense eyes. "I know you believe you deserve death and suffering after what happened all those years ago," Carl began to speak as tears filled his eyes. "But please! Please don't ever sacrificed your life like that ever again! Don't let yourself be taken or defeated so easily like that ever again! Seeing you dragged away without a fight..it was terrifying and painful to see you give up so easily like that. You may not believe it anymore, but you aren't capable of never being loved again. The thought of losing you again brought me more pain and suffering than what you did nearly 20 years ago. You are not a monster Matthew! Monsters don't feel regret, they don't apologize or feel remorse for their actions. You did that." Matthew stared silently at Carl. Neither man said nothing as they gently placed their foreheads against each other. Tears streaming from both of their eyes now. "I'm...sorry. I'm so sorry. Carl I..." Matthew tried to speak through his tears. "I know. I know." Carl only replied. Matthew didn't have to say anything. He knew what he was thinking. The others remained silent as they watched. None of them really saying anything and giving these two a moment, but also none of them having any negative reactions towards Matthew. Alex looked towards Victor and Two Brains. Both of them were having solemn but also bittersweet reactions. Alex wasn't sure what Victor was thinking, but he highly suspected what Two Brains was. Alex always figured, deep down, Two Brains could never fully hate his father. Whenever he was mentioned before, Two Brains would always have a solemn look, but never a hateful one. Alex figured Two Brains still loved the father that raised and cared for him and his siblings so well, he just hated the killer the man had become. Alex didn't hold it against him. He knew that if his parents and Rebecca were still alive, they wouldn't hold it against him either. Everyone was soon startled by Becky suddenly growling even as Tristan held her. They turned around and saw Atomic was beginning to wake up from the back of Victor's car. Carl, Tristan, Constance, the Chaotic four, Joe, Alan, Agent AA, and the Henchmen begin to tense up. Some of them were looking ready for an attack. Dr. Two Brains raised up his hands to halt them. "Hang on a second everyone. Atomic may be conscious but trust me. He doesn't have access to his powers right now." Dr. Two Brains tried reassuring them. Victor then spoke up. "He's right. Two Brains took his powers. He is out of the game but only temporarily." Atomic began to become lucid and tried to get out of the car. "How did you do that?" Jenkins asked as he still took on a defensive stance. Dr. Two Brains shrugged. "I went Professor Terror on him and shot him with a device from my staff that not only inhibited his powers, but also knocked him out pretty good. I originally designed the device in case Miss Power ever came back but I figured this was still a good time to use it." Two Brains casually explained. As Atomic got to his feet and his mind became more clear, his eyes soon landed on the group. His expression instantly morphed from puzzlement to fury when he spotted Maddrix standing near them still alive. "YOU ARE DEAD MADDRIX!" Atomic yelled before jumping into the air...and later falling back down flat on his face. It was a comedic sight. "Hey Matthew is stubbornness reacting out of emotion an inherited trait from your side of the family?" Two Brains asked in a sarcastic tone as he stared at the fallen Atomic with an annoyed deadpan expression. Matthew shrugged. "Um' shouldn't we still tie him up even though he doesn't have any powers?" Sunshine suggested. "I got this. Fluffy please wrap up the crazy hero." Archie requested his pet spider. @dualnaturedscientist

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

for the ask game! <3

Miraak: 👖 + 👁

Jia: 👖 + 👄 + 🦵

Oh, thank you so much for the ask! 😍

The ask game is this, check it out, y'all! 💖

Miraak:

👖 What type of clothing does your OC generally wear? Why? Do they have any “signature” accessories?

So, in my headcanon, Miraak is a battlemage. He primarily fights with spells as he is a flawless caster, but in close combat, he can utilize one-handed swords, too. That said, his attire in a war would be lightweight clothing (maybe something close to this!) but charged with enchantments that allow his magicka to regenerate faster, as he heavily relies on it. When he is not in battle, his everyday clothes are simple. Maybe a shirt and a pair of trousers, with no cuirass or gloves whatsoever (maybe something close to this but cleaner than Geralt's obviously😂). But I imagine his clothes, both those worn in battle and daily life, in dimmer shades of color, like black or dark blue, or even purple!

👁 What is your OC’s eye color? Do they have any eye-related habits, like winking or rubbing their eyes? Do other people tend to notice their eyes?

Miraak's eyes are, for obvious reasons, quite noticeable.😂 When he steps out of Apocrypha, I think he has canonically pitch-black eyes (iris and sclera alike) because of Hermaeus Mora's taint. But in my headcanon, in Nirn, he gradually becomes cleansed (I won't tell you how😌), and when the ink completely erases from his eyes, their color is a hue of blue; not light blue, but a darker tint of it, more like the color of the ocean. Because of his large magicka pool, his eyes also have some specks of purple, mostly around the irises, so his eye color is blended close to indigo! Miraak sometimes twitches his eyes when awkward! 😝

Jia:

👖 What type of clothing does your OC generally wear? Why? Do they have any “signature” accessories?

As for Jia, she is a spellsword, so her combat style is a mix of spells and bound weapons, or weapons charged with a specific enchantment. For this reason, and because of her low weight and her aptitude for sneaking and moving quickly, she prefers wearing light armor, too, usually made of leather (something very close to this!). She only wears black, and even her dragon-scale armor, which is the heaviest armor she chooses to wear, is dyed grey-black. In her daily life, she may wear dresses, too! And while she only wears black on her adventures, when she is in her house relaxed, she wears lighter colors like light yellow, pale pink, and even white (like this, or like this! And those are very much appreciated from a certain old Dragon Priest!🥰).

👄 What is your OC’s smile like? Is it bright and wide, or thin and reserved? Does your OC wear any lipgloss or lipstick? Do they chew their lips?

Jia's smile is most of the time thin and reserved. Not only because of her depression and her constant prudishness but also because her front teeth have a little gap between them which she dislikes (in the real world, she would definitely choose to wear braces!) She does not usually chew her lips, mostly the inside of her cheek, and she does not wear lipgloss or lipstick––or any kind of makeup, really. The only thing close to it was the warpaint she attempted to smudge on her face when she went to fight Alduin in order to actually look like a Nord, similar to the ancient heroes.

🦵 Are your OC’s arms and legs strong, weak, or average? Why? Do they have any common mannerisms that involve their limbs, such as tapping their foot or fiddling with their fingers?

Jia's limbs may be slim, but they are indeed strong and athletic. First, her arms from the years of brandishing a sword or firing a bow, and then her legs from the endless treading around Skyrim or riding a horse (or a dragon!) Also, maybe the dragon blood she carries makes her stronger and more resilient than the average woman, even though Nord women are pretty strong and hardy themselves. As for her mannerisms, she may tap her foot or fiddle her fingers when anxious or uncomfortable, but these are not so common for her. Her constant mannerism is moving her hands a lot while discussing something that interests her as if trying to express her too many thoughts. 😌

[toosweetfiddlesticks]

Can you do Bakugou x soft (male or gn) reader meeting a Karen and go creative with it hope you have fun

Big Meanie

Paring: Barista!Bakugou x Soft!Gn!Cashier reader

Warning: Karen being a Karen, cussing, bakujealous, Bakugou calling you a big meanie, not proof read

Catoergy: Comedy

A/N: Thank you for the request!!

Summary: boom boom man gets upset because you didn’t let him be the Hero of the day.

—————————

As you unlocked the door, you huffed a breathe of anxiety out and tried to build up as much optimism you could for your first day. You felt a mixture of anxiousness and excitement boil in you.

With a smile full of courage, you stepped into the clean kitchen. The lights contrasted and dimmed the already dark morning sky as you felt a cool breeze from an opened window. The hall was a bit dimmer from the kitchen so you turned those lights on for the rest of the co-workers. An ash halons hair boy was currently wrapping the store’s iconic colored apron around his waist. He tighter his grip as he caught a glismp of you.

“Good morning!” You spoke softly, but cheerful. You flashed a small smile but his demeanor did change. He held his solemn look at you when blood red eyes. “So...how was your sleep?” Your excuse of small talk feel short the silence in the air seemed to be even more awkward between the two of you. He grunted and muttered something under his breathe before speaking.

“Don’t forget to clock in.” He ignored your question which honestly, did not bother you. You took his warning and walked out to the time clock, punching in your time. Silence swallowed you both while once again. Ok y/n, your co-worker may not be the most friendliest, but hey it’s only your first day, how bad can it be.

”Also,” You head shot up from the time clock. Your co-workers back facing you. “Don’t talk to me, you boring extra.”

——————————

You began to start your third day shift with a proud smile on your face. As you made your way to the time clock to punch in, greetings of waves goodbyes from other workers thats shifts just ended, you’ve met made your start of the day feel even better. Humbly, you waved the two men off.

“Bye Kiri, bye Denki!” Denki giggly waved his hand in the arm with excitement as he happily walked with Kirishima.

“Bye Y/N!” The sharp tooth man cheerfully sang his farewell. His arm hugging around the shoulders of his shorter blonde hair friend. But before the two could fully walk out, the red head immediately turns back around, as if something just came to mind. “Also” he added, “watch out for the Karen’s.” Your head titled with puzzlement.

“The Karen’s?” You kept your question in your head and before you knew it, the two was gone.

But you shrugged it off for the day and continued to go back to work.

——————————

“Hey move it extra!” Bakugou’s voice arose from behind you like a sound of a hurricane warning. You huffed a little and stepped aside from the time clock. Tiredly, you twisted your body around and leaned against the wall, facing him with crossed arms. Your eyes dropped a bit and your eyelids cried to close. But though you body was ready to sleep, you were wide awake..kinda. You manage trying to hide your weary face. Holding a hopeful smile and you greeted Bakugou.

“Morning Bakugou.” There was a small chance he would really greet you back with a morning salutation. Today was not the latter. He’s body seemed a bit stiff, he’s face looked alive and refreshed, but his body slouched a bit. Turning his head to you, an eyebrow raised at you.

You stiffened a bit, you leaned off the grey wall with a feeling of astonishment  , “Wow that’s new.” A notion you told yourself.

Still, he said nothing, leaving you two both in somewhat awkward silence. By the looks of it, he was staring with bit of puzzlement in his eyes. He’s red eyes sparks with a look of examination. As if he was searching for a look, or scanning your farcical features like a robot. He was just standing there, arms crossed, eyes stern, eyebrows furrowed. It seemed like forever before you two said anything.

“Are you tired?” Bakugou finally spoke that shock you. You were a bit taken a back at his response but nodded you head. He grumbled something under his breathe and signaled you to follow him. “Come here,” he sighed.

You’re eyes widened, but you obeyed and follow. As you walked, you could hear his small mutters and talks but couldn’t understood a thing he said. He walked a little slow than usual, like if he was trying to make sure he didn’t leave in you in the dust.

The walk was short and you made it to the destination in no time. He groaned as you got there, the kitchen area. Your eyebrows drew with concern.

Backing up a little, you spoke “Uhm, look if you’re gonna splash me with water-“

But your cautiousness was only mocked by small chuckles that bubbled up in Bakugou as he picked up a plastics cup.

“No I won’t, ya idiot.” He interjected, “What’s your type of coffee, you like Frappuccino or somethin’?”

——————————

“Hey, Cashier Extra!” Y/N nostrils flare with heavy air leaving them. For the past three months and a half, you’ve been having to deal with one of the biggest meanies they had ever known in their entire life. Originally, you thought you were confused at times by him.

Bakugou Katsuki was one of the hardest people work with sometimes. It was like he had a whole book of mean names and rude comments. Or looked up how to send the worlds most bone-chilling stare. And after a long tiring day of work, right as you’re are about to clock out, you hear the small words “bye extra” leave his grumpy little pie hole. You wondered why his rude one point, then nice another.

Y/N briskly huff, straightening out any wrinkles or creases in your pale button up shirt. “Yeah Bakugou?” Y/N tried to give Bakugou the most genuine confusion on your face. Though Y/N didn’t find a lot great characteristics of Bakugou, but they knew that Bakugou was a smart man. He quickly caught onto their small frown creasing at the sides of their mouth and y/n bothered eyes.

But unlike usually, Bakugou’s face didn’t seem to get annoyed at that. No, instead, how facial expressions seemed to go down a little. Bakugou’s eyebrows furrowed, from y/n couldn’t tell what was on Bakugou’s mind. He’s volcanic eyes seemed to be put out.

Y/N would almost say the usual solemn face of Bakugou Katsuki just broke away for a minute.

Bakugou caught himself, the dust of his volcanic chucked up as the lava came back into his eyes, keeping a stern look. Though Bakugou wouldn’t admit, Bakugou had definitely fallen for Y/N strong admiration for this job and their determination. He’d give them the compliment from time to time, but to wasn’t as much as he wanted to say.

“Just make sure you remember to clock in.” He mumbled softly, Y/N could barely even hear it. They nodded, a bit confused, but nodded and almost went on to work like usual. “Hey!” Bakugou stopped Y/N in their tracks, “Be cautious of Karens.”

The name still confused you to this day, but once again, you shrugged it off with a nod and carried on.

——————

This would have to one of the most crowded shift you’ve ever had, ever. If you were a customer, driving up into the driveway, you would’ve definitely drive straight out by the amount of people parked or in the driveway, getting their order taken their.

Bakugou, Denki and six others carefully rushed with the drinks, other orders holding up on the racks. Kirishima, Mina, and another worker kept up their the best they could, taking people’s orders from the drive through, then there was you and three other cashiers. You four had to take the orders as smooth and quick as possible, all of you praying that the customer will have a little bit of compassion and patience. Lines of people excitedly waiting to order the new drink the shop put out.

The Christmas Chocolate Winter Cream. Your new enemy, almost every single child, adult, teen, everyone was asking and wanting that “creamy delicious coffee”. Who even lets their child drink coffee! You didn’t want any part of it.

“Stupid coffee ice cream, its not even December yet!” You quickly grumbled under your breath.

”Uhm, excuse me?” You nearly forgot about the rush hour at work today. Hastily you straighten your spine. The customer was a lady, maybe in her late 50s. Her pale skin wore brightly colored pigment over its wrinkles and creases. Her hair was short but bumped up and curled.

“Oh I said, hi welcome to StaryBunkers,” You correct yourself quickly, trying to pass your entirely different words as the same, you grasp notepad and it’s thin paper in one hand, and a pencil in another. Forcibly, you gave the customer a fake smile that would impress the greatest actress. “What would you like for today. Behind your fake smile and your facial creases, you internally prayed with every god, deity, and goddess you know, hoping that they wouldn’t say..

“The Christmas Chocolate Winter Cream,” The older lady grasp her young daughter tightly that was so short, you just now noticed her. She seems to be up to her mother’s knees. “make that two please, today’s my girls big day!” The woman’s words didn’t invoke any feeling of excitement that usually does when some says big day to you.

“tHe cHirStmAs cHocOlatE wIntEr cReAm”

Your sighs of annoyance was held captive in the bars of your fake smile. “Of course!” Your forgery of cheerfulness impressed your cashier partners who’s fake smile was somewhat stiff and expressionless. “Birthday I presume?” You ask, the pencil’s tip close to the paper, ready to write.

“Yep!” The little girl chirped, her two brown pigtails swinging with you as she nodded her head. Ok you had to admit, the little girl was very sweet and cute. She single handedly made your stressful day a little bit better (ugh what a queen, we stan)

Your smile became more genuine, you heart even warmed a little.. “Coming right up, wait a moment please.” You paced hastily behind you, internally wishing you could spend you whole entire day in the back. You made your way quickly to the kitchen, hoping the customer were the patient type as you heard the shouts of anger coming from the drive through. You took a quick glance at the altercation.

“I SAID CHRISTMAS CHOCOLATE WINTER CREAM,” The customer aggressively yanked the the lid up. “THIS ISN’T ENOUGH CREAM!” The white and red haired boy calmly his hands out, trying to rationalize with the person.

“Sir, ” He spoke with dullness, “Thats how much cream comes with it.” But the customer only got even more hotheaded.

“NO IT ISN’T!”

“Yes it is.” Todoroki scrunched his face up, “You don’t even work here, how would you know?” Todoroki, unknowingly made the man even more upset which cause the drink from his hand to fly out towards him. You panic, rushing over there the close the door before it was too late. But, the man was quicker, and as the drink came rushing to a motionless Todoroki, a body came rushing in to take the hit, Kirishima.

“Brrooooooo” He said in slow motion. “Poor Kiri” you internally spoke with pity. And as the man ran away, kirishima’s stomach burned from the heat of the coffee. You cringed at the sound of his small whimpers of pain. “F in the chat.” You busy back to the kitchen.

The steam from the coffee makers brush against your skin, squeezing out a very thin layer of sweat on your cheeks. Quickly, you yelled.

“Two Today Specials for Cashier number UNO,” the Barista’s groaned, “AKA Y/N!” You yelled again for clarification. They, annoyedly, went back to work with the drinks again. The most pissed out of all them though was Bakugou. Not cause of the loaded day. But because everyone was going to “slow”. He huffed, panted, scream, yelled, intensely ordered and more,

The man was like lighting, filling up cup after cup after cup.

“Move your asses!” He sealed three cups and handed them to Mina, “Y/N stop wasting your time back here and work!” Your posture caved in, but you obey his command like a solider obeying their Sargent.

“Aye aye, Captain.” You sang jokingly. And while the others smirk and giggled amongst the stresss, Bakugou arch an eyebrow at your jokes and went back to work.

You happily went along to the front again to update the mother and the daughter about their meals. But as you approach them, you could hear the mother’s now bewildered voice. It was like cat nails to a chalkboard and her voice was crackly.

Her scream filled the whole place, putting a pause on the whole day. You internally panicked, not only can you feel the wrath of the woman from where you were standing, you could also feel the piercing and grim stare of Bakugou behind you. Once again, you we’re praying to gods, goddess, and deities. Praying that whatever is out there won’t eat you alive. Swallowing down your fear, you began to walk, with the feeling of it stuck down in your stomach.

Once you were in her eyesight, she swatted her daughters arms. And like a puppy, the girl immediately obeyed, handing her phone to her. The lady was obnoxiously grumbling words under breath as she pressed record. And with a large gulp she began her fit. You knew exactly what was gonna happen.

This..this must be the Karen they’ve talked about.

“SAY HELLO TO THE MEDIA!” Her voice sings with pride, “THIS PERSON MADE MY DAUGHTER WAIT ONE HOUR FOR HER DRINK-“ Your eyes grew with shock at the woman’s words. But before you could say anything, the cashier next to you, Deku interjected. His arm reached over to hover over your body as a means to protect you.

“Hang on now!” He argued. “You’ve only been here for three minutes!” You nodded in agreement. Pushing Deku’s arm up to cover your face from the camera.

“I’m sorry for the wait ma’am” you apologize, “But all you had to do was wait a couple of more minute-“

“DO YOU SEE THIS?” The woman ignored your remarks and claims, instead focusing on her own, “THEY ARE TRYING TO DISCREDIT ME AND MY NINE! YES NINE! YEAR OLD DAUGHTER!” She waved her phone in her daughters face like she was evidence. She waved, hopped, and dance around the counters and to other people’s table. “HOW CAN YOU PEOPLE DRINK HERE!” Her words and movements were melodramatic and over the top.

And after her little rant to the people, some of which left, she stomped her way back to you and Deku. This time, she had a nasty smirk on her face and a hot drink in her free hand she stolen from another customer.

“Ya know what!”

“Oh no not this again”

Hastily, you moved Deku and you away from the woman’s sight. You two ran into the back kitchen to Chef Ramsey Bakugou. Who was now even more pissed. Not only did Y/N make a Karen mad (ok he knew it impossible not to make them mad he’s just stressed). But no, instead of running to him, Y/N runs to Deku first?! Man’s got his priorities straight.

As Deku quickly runs over the back area to get his phone, you rush over to Bakugou and the others in panic. “Bakugou, call the police!” The others around quickly take of aprons and another things at the words of that. Police involved?? Yep they think a murder just went down. But Bakugou just grumbles and huffs.

“No.”

....

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO!?” Bakugou looks at you with bewilderment, this is his first time hearing you yell at him that way. But before he process the fact that a cinnamon bun is yelling at him, you began to grasp and shake at his shoulders. “THE LADY IS TRYING TO KILL ME!”

“WELL YOU SHOULD’VE CAME TO ME INSTEAD OF FUCKING DEKU FOR PROTECTION..” Bakugou fumbled and shouted through his words. “Y-YOU BIG MEANIE”

You two went silent after that,

Big

...

Big Meanie?

Deku came out from the back with his phone, “Shoto!” Todoroki’s head jerked towards his way. “Help me with the Karen!” Todoroki nodded.

————-

Finally, the situation was under control, the Karen was banned from the coffee shop, Mina and Denki gave Kirishima some aloe. And while things didn’t really calm down until the day was done, everyone seemed a bit less tense, expect you and Bakugou. For the rest of the day, he was knocking over cups, using wrong lids, and spilling coffee. Dude’s lucky that he wasn’t fire. He felt embarrassed by the way he reacted. Now Y/N probably saw him as some type of control freak. Tensions were high and he was stressful.

Bakugou quickly moved pass the others, trying to clock out early before Y/N sees him-

“Hey Bakugou” Bakugou internally groaned at the sound of your voice. Screw you plot device he said to himself. Bakugou turned his head to the side to face you. Yo he side view is lowkey cute you noted. “Could we talk outside, after I clock out?”

Oh how badly Bakugou wanted to say no. The pit in his stomach grew bigger as he nodded.

“Great, just give me a second” Bakugou nodded once again and quickly clocked out. He’s footsteps echoed in his head as he waited outside, leaning against the glass wall of the store.

He didn’t know what you were gonna say, but he had an idea of it. He annoyed you to no end, made things harder for you, and was never truly nice to you that often. How was he suppose to believe that you would like a guy like him in anyway? He internally frowned at his thoughts, the words eating him up and chewing him out only to get stepped on by the crushing feeling of doubt.

Once he saw the buildings door open with you coming out to join him, that crushing feeling of doubt covered and weighed down on him. This was it he thought. He shoved his hands into his pockets, readying himself for the painful impact of rejected.

“Bakugou..” you softly asked. Bakugou hmm’d at you with a feeling of shame boiling inside.. “Did you mean it when you said i was a big meanie?” Bakugou let out a sigh of pain.

He caught onto your words late, “Look I’m sorry for-what?”

“You called me a big meanie.” You mumbled, “and I was wondering if you were serious because one, you’re like 23.”

“I’m 16” he deadpanned  “Like you.” You ignored him though.

“and two, you’re the one who’s been acting like a big meanie.” You accused which wasn’t contradicted, “And all cause you like me huh” Bakugou opened his mouth to spew his defense, but nothing came out but a small “I”. He sighed defeatedly.

“Im sorry,” He spoke. “I just, didn’t know how to tell you or whatever.” He spoke so awkwardly and shy. “I’ll uh, I’ll leave you alone or whatever.”

You drew out a finger, objecting. “Hold on now,” you replied. “Who said I didn’t like you?” Bakugou’s heart sparked at those words, he lifted his head, red sparks in his eyes. “Hey what can I say? A big meanie like me likes big meanies too.”

[lokiondisneyplus]

Every Marvel Cinematic Universe TV series to date has had its own distinct look and feel, from the sitcom-derived pastiche episodes of WandaVision all the way back to the grim-and-gritty, dimly lit street narratives of Jessica Jones and Daredevil. Marvel’s Loki has been one of the MCU’s more distinctive-looking series, though, from the dimly lit, industrial-brown corridors of Time Variance Authority HQ to the vivid neon city of Sharoo on the doomed moon Lamentis-1.

Series director Kate Herron confirms that some of these designs were directly inspired by classic science fiction, while others were more personal experimentation. We sat down with Loki’s cinematographer, Autumn Durald Arkapaw, to break down what went into designing some of the most striking and memorable sequences from the series’ first three episodes.

This interview has been edited for concision and clarity.

EPISODE 1: TIME THEATER INTERROGATIONS

Autumn Durald Arkapaw: Kate [Herron]’s sensibilities led me to get the job in the first place. We shared those sensibilities, around noir films and more moody thrillers, so we were already on the same page as far as lighting and tone. So when it came to the Time Theater, Kasra [Farahani], the production designer, did a fantastic job of creating a space that had a lot of opportunity to feel textural and moody, and create symmetry. I’m big on symmetry. I like to frame center-punched, keeping in mind the architecture of the room, and framing for the architecture and the people at the same time. Stanley Kubrick does that very well. A Clockwork Orange obviously came up in our discussions. Some of our main references were David Fincher’s Zodiac and Terry Gilliam’s Brazil, and the original Blade Runner, in terms of creating spaces that feel strong and weighted, with the people in them placed in a way where the conversation feels very heavy, so you’re paying a lot of attention to the lines, and where your eyes are drawn.

We did some lighting changes above, in the Brutalist ceiling. The lights move, so when we’re cutting back and forth, you see the lights change on the actors. We’re trying to time those movements to the dialogue. The editing was fantastic with that scene. We shot a good amount of coverage, and [series stars Tom Hiddleston as Loki and Owen Wilson as Mobius] play in that space a lot. So we’re trying to always keep it interesting, every time they go back there, changing up the lighting and the projections. That’s probably one of my favorite spaces in the show.

And then the acting, obviously — they’re riffing off each other, and you’re in the room with them and feeling the energy. It was very exciting. That scene was up front in our schedule, so Owen and Tom were getting to know each other in general. We got to watch that happen before our eyes, and it was very comical.

One of the most noticable things about that space is the harsh, rectangular overhead spotlights — Tom Hiddleston starts his interrogation under a spotlight, and when he gets angry, he moves himself back under it. How did you discuss that kind of blocking and framing?

The thing with Tom is, he’s a genius. He’s just a fantastic actor, The amount of things I could say about how amazing he is on set, and character-wise, the list goes on and on. You can introduce marks and let actors know where you’d like them to be for a shot, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that’s where they’ll go. Some actors like to be more freeform. But with Tom, I wouldn’t have to say “Stand under that light.” He just knows, and he’ll play off that because of the space. He walks in, sees how it’s lit, knows our agenda, and uses that in the character.

So there were certain moments where he asked, “Is this what you’re thinking?” or we would have a discussion. But mostly, he uses the environment around him to tell the story as well, and he took in that lighting as part of the character. Actors know how they look in certain types of light. He’s very good at that. So he played with that in that space, for sure.

When we pull back and take in the whole room, the lighting feels punitive — the striped shadows are noir-movie standards, like light coming through blinds, but they also feel like prison bars. Is that something you discussed?

We never talked about prison bars, but in designing that space, Kasra was thinking about what that space was — being arrested, and being judged. It’s a claustrophobic space. Loki is slightly free to communicate and move around, but the walls and ceiling are concrete, there’s this fake light coming in, because obviously, in the TVA, there’s no day or night. You can see the light moving above, but there’s no sun there. It’s just moving at certain moments.

I had an idea, after seeing the latest Blade Runner, where Roger Deakins moves the lights around: Why don’t we have the lights move? It’s not easy to have big tungsten light sources above a ceiling set move like that, because it takes heavy motors. But my gaffer and key grip are amazing, and they figured out a way we could move the lights without causing shadows between each of the sections of lighting. It looks all like it’s moving at the same time. That took a lot of thought, getting those lights to move, and not just creating shafts of light that fade in and out. I think it helped a lot, because it’s very subtle. You’re only going to see it as they’re sitting. You’ll see sometimes the light moves from Owen’s shoulders into his eyes at the right moment, when you get lucky in the edit, and catch it at the right moment. It was great to have the resources to actually do stuff like that.

EPISODE 2: THE ROXXCART VARIANT PURSUIT

I’m a fan of green. If we’re designing a clinical environment, or a shopping mall, and we’ve got overhead fluorescents, I like to use cool white fluorescents that have kind of a green kick. I’m a big David Fincher fan, and there’s an undertone of green in his setups that I appreciate. So Roxxcart is a bigger shop that is now closed down, and Kasra outfitted it like a big-box Costco-type place? That wasn’t a full set — we went to this big warehouse, and he made it feel like that kind of store.

Above the space where we shot in, there were a bunch of fixtures. We completely removed those and put in our own tubes. They were RGB, and we could fade them and turn them off and on to our liking, flicker them, make them red when we wanted. When they’re cool white, I appreciate that green kick. I did a lookup-table color correction as well, to give it that tone. It’s meant to be clinical, but make you feel like you don’t know what’s at every turn. And we’re keeping lights on or off depending on which way we’re looking. Kate was a big fan of that space being very dark, with pockets of light. Our antagonist is supposed to come out of the darkness as people change identities.

We’re also trying to make that space look bigger than it actually was. We’re creating depth with light. That was a bitch to shoot — we had so much rigging. My team was amazing. If you go into a space like that, a Target or something, you’d think “The lighting here is not that big of a deal. It’s just overheads.” But being able to control all those overheads and make them different colors and flicker them takes a lot of rigging, with a dimmer board and the programming. In the editing afterward, it really does feel like a space that’s a lot bigger than it actually was. The red sequence is one of my favorites, for sure.

The camera is below waist level a lot in that sequence. What are you communicating there?

I always like to shoot low! It’s just how I see things. Some of my favorite films are detective thrillers from the past, Zodiac being one of those. I’ve always just loved shooting below the eyeline. Obviously there are moments in features I’ve shot where I want to be higher, because it’s more emotional or romantic or something. But in this kind of story, where you have these amazing spaces, and you have multiple characters you’re trying to frame, all facing off and being strong, I’m just a bigger fan of seeing a ceiling than a floor. It’s an appreciation I have, as far as it feeling more mysterious. When a character is looking more mysterious, and you’re not trusting them, you’re trying to figure them out, I love that kind of framing. It’s amazing.

EPISODE 3: FIGHTING TO REACH THE LAMENTIS-1 ARK

That sequence has a great backstory. I did a lot of prep with Kate. We started prep in Los Angeles before we ended up in Atlanta. We knew that sequence was coming up. but in the script, it just says “Okay, so they end up at Sharoo, and then go on.” The description of that sequence went through an evolution, with the filmmakers discussing things, building the set, and collaborating, so early on, we spitballed about what we thought that could be. Having the support of Marvel and being able to build, and being able to do great stunts, we went bigger.

With the sequence as it evolved, Children of Men was a big reference for us. Kate was really interested in that feeling. She wanted to be with the characters the whole way. We tried to figure out, should the camera be handheld? Should it be Steadicam? We ended up with Steadicam. We looked at some previous oners, because we wanted this sequence to feel like a oner to the audience. Obviously, there are cuts in there, but we seamed certain shots together so the audience wouldn’t feel as though we cut. The intention was to feel like you’re on the run with Loki and Sylvie, racing to the ark, building up tension. You’re there with them as they’re fighting.

My husband’s a DP, and he shot True Detective season 1. That oner in True Detective was something we looked at as well, because it’s just one of those great oners that feels real and has those kinds of textural elements. We did pre-viz, we did rehearsals in the space, prior to shooting there. We went there a couple times and did camera rehearsals. We had an amazing Steadicam operator who I’ve worked with on my last four projects and features. He’s very in tune with my eye, and he’s great with those kind of moves. Kasra understood that we needed certain paths to go down, to help us get from point A to point B, so it feels like a run, it doesn’t feel like people keep entering the same space. Obviously, it’s hard to build really big sets where you can go very far. So he did a great job of knowing what we needed, and then adding stunts, and figuring out how we could feel like we were turning corners whenever we’re moving into different spaces.

How big was the physical space? How much of what we’re seeing there is digital?

Shiroo was very different from Roxxcart. At Roxxcart, we had blue at the end of the aisles, so they look like they’re going on a lot longer than they are. But we traveled to that space. It wasn’t built. Shiroo was built on a backlot. That was a set we had full control over, to build to our liking. Above a certain point, as you’re looking up at the buildings, that’s VFX. But we built the actual buildings up to a certain height, and then beyond that is a digital extension. As far as the depth as well, beyond a certain part of the street, it’s a digital extension. Obviously, the ark is an extension, and we’re using the explosions as cues to do a lot of lighting cues. But it was a very big set, a gorgeous set. It has a lot of texture.

Kasra had the idea of painting a lot of the set in black-light paint, which I’d never seen before, and putting black lights everywhere. Also, we had a bunch of units on top that lit the set for the moon color and those sources, and we had VFX helping us stitch it all together. We had to shoot the sequences and look at the overlays on set to make sure we were creating matchups that would work in the final edit.

For me, that’s a very successful collaboration of in-camera elements — that whole set was real — and having explosions on set along with lighting cues, and then the effects to seam it together and do the extension above and the depth. So everyone really had to play like a good chunk of that. But they’d be effects overall, I think taking what we shot and making it feel like something that big, you know, the buildings are falling. Obviously, we didn’t drop buildings on people. There’s some foam stuff. That was really fun. We shot all that stuff at night.

The camera work in that sequence is some of the most dynamic movement in the series. What was the most difficult part about coordinating that sequence for you?

Rehashing it now, it was the prep. When we were actually there in the space with Tom and Sylvie, running through all of this stuff, it really made sense by that time. We’d been pre-vizing it and reworking it and massaging it for so long that ultimately, once we got on the set and had to follow them with the camera, and the energy was going, and we had the extras there, it all fell together. I think one day, we even wrapped a little early, because we’d just nailed it. When you’re prepping those types of shots, in your mind, you’re always like, “This is gonna be hard, it’s going to be difficult to seam these together, I like perfect headroom.” And you also want it to feel real, and people have to jump and fly and tumble into the frame. But on the day, our execution ended up being pretty good. So that was the most surprising thing to me, because it was kind of a pain in the ass prepping, because there are so many elements. And we’re doing six episodes, so we’re always working, trying to chase the next prep. But it really fell into place nicely.

[five-rivers]

Loved 8

Danny found himself without human senses or even a rough analogue of a human body. Even so, he still had an understanding of his surroundings, alien senses leaving impressions on his mind.

His body was soft, boneless, rounded, unformed. He was intimately connected to, part of, and entirely surrounded by an infinitely greater being, whom he was dependent on. He was known, all of him, by this being.

If he’d had eyes to cry with, he would have, knowing that he would never be able to know this being as he himself was known.

Amusement and affection – or, at least, things that were like them – pressed into him as the being contracted around him. An object was inserted into the single orifice he currently possessed.

Slowly, Danny became aware of an intense… discomfort in that area. He couldn’t call it pain. He currently had no sense of pain. But he could feel it and he didn’t like it and it was growing—

He woke up, tangled in blankets, skin slick with sweat, head and teeth aching.

Except, he didn’t. He was in the Dream. But if he were in the Dream, what had that been?

Already, many of the details were slipping through his fingers. He could no longer recapture what he had felt, although the general events were still somewhat clear.

He… had sleeping here somehow peeled back the layers of metaphor through which he experienced the Dream? Or had that just been a different metaphor, no truer than this one?

He sat up – or, rather, he tried to. An unexpected weight around neck stalled him. Overnight, the chain of Clockwork’s Love for him (and his Love for Clockwork in return) had more than doubled in size. It had also been reinforced by thick, colorful, silk ropes wound in and out of the links as well as other, smaller, chains.

There were also two of them, now, leading in opposite directions. As if Clockwork’s Love was simply too great to be confined to a single representation.

More carefully this time, Danny sat up. At least the collar, despite being far, far heavier, was no longer configured like a neck brace. Danny could turn his head to look at things.

The dog, evidently sensing an opportunity, deposited itself in Danny’s lap. Danny, not knowing what else to do, started petting it, running fingers through shadowy fur. He had always wanted a dog. Although, he didn’t remember telling Clockwork that…

“Maybe I should name you,” said Danny. He wasn’t sure how he felt about naming a personification of his hate, but he wasn’t sure if that’s what the dog was, or if the dog was just a container for his hate. It was confusing. “How about Cujo?”

The dog wagged its tail agreeably.

“Cujo it is, then.” He sighed and looked around the room. It didn’t have a door or any other visible opening. Honestly, in comparison to everything else he’d experienced in the Dream, that was pretty pedestrian. He supposed he’d just have to wait until Clockwork came back.

Maybe he could take a look at some of those interesting objects along the wall in the meantime? Something in his mind whispered that they were his and they were toys. They could take his mind off the pain building in his jaw and temples.

He stood up and walked almost all the way to the edge of the depression in the floor before being brought up short. He stumbled and sat down abruptly. What-?

The end of the chain was buried in the floor at the center of the depression.

Oh. Well. This whole room was part of Clockwork, too, so Danny really shouldn’t be surprised. It wasn’t like the chain hadn’t acted like a chain before.

Still.

Being forcibly trapped in, well, a crib was infantilizing. Not that everything else about all of this wasn’t. This just seemed like a step further.

The collar hummed lightly against Danny’s throat, eliciting a croon as he reflexively attempted to harmonize. The act settled him somewhat, and he gazed blankly at the runes surrounding the depression. The drop between the depression and the rest of the floor was too high for him to get over by himself anyway… no, that wasn’t right… couldn’t be… he couldn’t see the runes if that was the case, he’d be too short… but the lip there was definitely too tall, he knew it…

He tore his eyes away, squeezing them shut against his suddenly raging headache. The dog, Cujo, padded over to him and sniffed him gently. Danny whined, trying not to cry.

It looks like your horns might be growing in as well, said Clockwork’s avatar, running a hand through Danny’s hair. Poor baby. Teeth and horns all at once. That must hurt.

“Horns? Like Nocturne?”

Yes. They will help you navigate the other layers of the Dream once they are fully grown. With practice.

Danny let Clockwork’s avatar lift his head, resting his chin in its palm. “Layers of the Dream?”

You did not think the Dream was as simple in structure as that place you call reality, did you, little Love? This place you have become familiar with is only the closest layer to that place, no matter how deep you go.

“But—” said Danny, trying to work out how that could be. The answer slotted itself neatly into Danny’s mind. “It’s… like a tesseract?”

More than that, but essentially, yes. The avatar was gathering blankets around Danny again, swaddling him. Danny squeaked and tried to twist away, but the avatar easily anticipated him, and the fight quickly went out of him.

Danny was carried from the room and brought to a long table covered in bowls. The bowls contained pastel orbs of various sizes and colors. A single piece of furniture shaped like a basket woven of silver strips sat next to it. Clockwork’s avatar set him down gently on this piece of furniture and several of the strips peeled off to wrap securely around Danny.

Time for breakfast, said the avatar, happily.

Mentally and emotionally, it was easier to eat the orbs than the obviously alive things of his previous meal. Physically…

Danny asked why the orbs were so tough and difficult to chew. The avatar murmured something about practicing using his teeth. Danny wasn’t exactly in a position to refuse, so he was filled to satiation and beyond, until every piece of food on the table had been eaten.

By the time Clockwork’s avatar lifted him again, he felt exhausted and disgusting.

“Can I go home now?” he asked.

You are home.

“You know what I mean.”

It would be remiss of me to let you go when you are still in so much pain. Besides, sleep is necessary for children such as yourself to properly digest food.

“Don’t want to sleep,” said Danny, alarmed. He didn’t want to go back to the place he was before, where he could not see, hear, smell, taste, or touch.

That is not the only place you may go, said the avatar. In fact, it is rather unlikely for you to return there unless you do so on purpose. It touched the place where one of Danny’s horns would eventually bud. It was tender and Danny whined. Which is not something you can yet do. It paused. Perhaps I could guide you to a… cozy layer. One you might find educational. Would you like that?

“I wanna go home. I feel icky.”

I will set up a bath for you when you wake up.

Danny moaned and tried to tuck his face into the avatar’s shoulder. “Don’t want a bath.”

You do need one eventually.

“Don’t wanna.”

The avatar lowered Danny back into the nest of blankets.

Sleep well.

Danny woke up. This time in an actual crib. A mobile with star shapes hung overhead. He reached up with a chubby baby hand. A medical bracelet jingled around his wrist.

With some difficulty, his hands lacking dexterity, he turned the bracelet over. The writing there was incomprehensible and made him slightly dizzy. He huffed and rolled over before pushing himself up onto hands and knees.

The room he was in was dark, and far more defined than he was used to in the Dream. He could see picture frames on the walls and clocks. Every wall had at least one clock.

He grabbed the top of the crib railing and pulled himself up into a standing position. The rest of the room looked normal. Lived in.

The door opened, letting light in. A figure walked through the doorway and picked Danny up.

“You’re awake already! Ready for the day?”

“Clockwork?” squeaked Danny.

“Hmm, yes. But there’s something else you can call me here, hm?” The figure shifted, light falling on a feminine face and long hair.

“Mama?” tried Danny.

“There we go,” she said.

“Where are we?” asked Danny, lisping his words slightly. He wasn’t sure he had teeth right now. He put his hand in his mouth, feeling his gums. “’s different here.”

“Yes,” said Clockwork, walking out into a hallway. It was bright. There were clocks here, too, evenly spaced on the walls. Danny hid his face. “Oopsie daisy. Too bright, baby?”

“Mhm,” said Danny.

Clockwork balanced Danny on her hip and fiddled with a dimmer switch. The lights dimmed to a more comfortable level. “I’m sorry, baby. I keep forgetting about your eyes.”

“What about my eyes?”

“You’re photosensitive. That’s what the bracelet is for. You need low light.”

“Mama?”

“Hm?”

“What is this place?”

“Ah,” said Clockwork, putting him in a highchair. “A world within the Dream. Once,” she punctuated the word by clipping Danny into the seat, “it was much like the place you were first born. But we came to understand it completely and everything that thought or dreamed opened themselves to us. We engulfed it, brought it here. Now everyone is happy.”

Clockwork put a sippy cup on the little table on the highchair and then several pieces of cereal. Danny didn’t recognize the brand.

“Do I have to?”

“You need energy for today,” said Clockwork.

“But I just ate so much.”

“Not here. Come on, sweetheart. It’s just a little bit.” Clockwork sat down in one of the chairs at the dinning room table, brushing her hair over her shoulder. She smiled. “Isn’t this nice?”

Danny shrugged.

“I know you don’t care for the other part of the Dream, that you find it frightening, so… If you like this place, you can stay here. It’s just like the other place. The one you like. Would you like that?”

“My friends are there.”

“I can bring them here. It’ll be difficult, but very possible.”

Danny shook his head. Clockwork sighed.

“Well. Let’s just see how this day goes before you decide. Maybe you’ll like being here so much you’ll never want to leave at all. Give it a chance. Just for one day, okay?”

“Okay,” mumbled Danny.

“And that means eating your breakfast.” She ruffled Danny’s hair. “Okie-dokie?”

“’Kay.”

Clockwork smiled, eyes crinkling. “We’re going to have so much fun today, just see!”

[gisellelx]

Daffodils

Pairing: Carlisle/Esme Word count: 1600 TW: Esme’s backstory

March 1, 1921

Carlisle was angry.

Well, not angry. Esme had to amend her understanding of that word. Charles had been angry. She remembered what anger looked like, sounded like, felt like against and within her body. If Carlisle was able to get angry, she certainly hadn’t seen it yet, and where he was now wasn’t that.

Carlisle was upset. That word better matched the draw in his brow, the tightness of his jaw. He paced his study, slowly, because the room was too small to afford him the room to move at his full speed.

Edward had come to her a week ago, in the garden, at night, the moonlight shading across both their bodies such that it made their skin seem to become a silvery shimmer. He’d sat across from her, his knees pulled to his chest, watching as she carefully put bulbs into the ground. It was still too early; the ground still likely to freeze. They were so much further north than London, the tiny rural enclave where she’d so freely swung from the branches of the huge crabapple tree in her front yard. At this time of year, the daffodils would already be starting to peek their way out from the thawing dirt, their orange and yellow-white heads cheerily greeting the tired Ohioan farmhands who were starting to prepare the fields. Her mother had always kept the beds neatly; ensuring that year after year a crop of the bright little flowers would appear just in time for St. David’s Day. 

And so she was planting them, in the moonlight, knowing that it would be several weeks before they made their appearance. Like everything, it was the time which had shifted. The way her body moved so much more quickly. The way she could perch in perfect stillness on a tree branch, no longer worried about taking a fall and fracturing her leg. The way death had stolen away from her in three days of agony, and she’d awoken to the kind, concerned face of this man she had never forgotten.

Carlisle. 

She’d asked his name, ten years ago. She remembered the way his brow furrowed in confusion when he’d told her. The tiny hitch in his voice when he admitted that he didn’t remember his mother. She hung onto every word, stored every flickering glance he’d given her. Even through the haze of the laudanum she’d remembered, and it had been so easy, sliding into this household with the kind doctor and the affable, but aloof, boy. 

Edward had sat in the garden for a half hour, watching her dig, plant a bulb, and pat the earth back down, over and over, before he made clear his reason for coming outside.

“You have to tell him, Esme,” he said, his tone hard and frustrated and she sighed.

She didn’t want to burden Edward. He was a boy. His body had never filled out as it would have had he matured even a few years more. And even as an immortal, he was only twenty. The images that she tried valiantly to keep from her mind, lest he see them—she knew they hurt him. Charles’ hands, the way they moved when she had displeased him, so fast she didn’t even see them before she felt their impact. The constant fear. The way nothing was ever good enough—the groceries she bought, too expensive, the curtains she sewed with inexpert seams. Edward had heard the bellowing voice, felt her entire body tense at the sound of the good shoes crossing the threshold, the wool coat and hat finding their way to the hook by the door. 

And what had happened over and over on the second floor, in the privacy of their bedroom—Edward had seen that, too.

“I can’t,” she told him.

“He has to know.”

 She shook her head.

“Esme…he cares for you. He has to know.” The boy’s voice was hard, frustrated.

The words caught her up short. He cared for her, she knew that much. He’d taught her to hunt, and he gave her things to read. He showered her with anything she wanted; dresses, furniture, even flowers when she asked. But he was so reserved, disappearing into his study when they weren’t together.

“How will he take it,” she whispered, and Edward only shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he’d said. “But he has to know.”

So it had been three days ago, now, that she’d told Carlisle. And the gentle doctor had listened, and nodded, and gently touched her shoulder. She’d cried, the heaving tearless sobs that were now the mark of her new existence. And he’d comforted her, squeezing her shoulder, even stroking her cheek. When she felt calm, and he was certain of her security, he announced he was going to take a walk and disappeared for several hours.

And that had been that, she thought. He listened, and he absorbed her story, and it was one more thing about her that he simply took as part of her. She was grateful for the acceptance, pleased with the quiet way he’d accepted it. But it unraveled in the days after. The blond doctor withdrew. He stopped talking to her. Stopped touching her shoulder in the affectionate way he’d begun to before she’d given him the information. When she entered a room he flinched, looking away.

She felt…afraid of him, which seemed so uncharacteristic for Carlisle, the gentle man she’d met ten years ago and who had given her no reason to doubt him now. So she followed him here, to his study, where he had warmly invited her to join him anytime. He stood at once, began pacing, making her wonder if her presence was unwelcome.

He was so obviously upset.

“You’re angry with me,” she said quietly, and he became perfectly still at once. It was an eerie stillness, a stillness she was still getting used to. Carlisle was so good at human habits, and Edward only slightly less so, that when they stopped moving in the way their kind were able to, a perfect cessation of motion, not breathing, not so much as twitching—it still took her by surprise.

He shook his head. “I’m not angry with you.”

“You’ve stopped touching me.” Because she was undesirable? She supposed she deserved that.

He looked at her, his brow furrowed. “Have I?”

She nodded.

“I didn’t realize.” He came to her side, seated himself on the arm of the chair. He took her hand, placing it between both of his and caressing her knuckles.

“You’re angry.”

And in a flash, he was on the other side of the room, his back against the wall.

She swallowed. This much was right. “You’re angry,” she repeated.

He shook his head. “Not with you, Esme. Never with you.”

“But you’re angry.”

He nodded, slowly, standing back up, dropping her hand and thrusting his hands into his hair. They clutched at the golden locks, squeezing frantically, intermittently as he began to pace again.

“I just… What beasts are we, men? To do this? I stopped touching you because I can’t bear the thought that my hands might feel like—”

“You could never be him,” she said quietly.

He shook his head. “You don’t know that.”

She shrank back into the chair, one of two luxurious ones he had installed in his study. For what reason, she suddenly wondered. Edward didn’t need to sit, and neither did she. Carlisle was so perfect in his charade, in the nearly three centuries of masking himself as a human, that he rarely missed these finer details which so easily could go unnoticed.

What did he mean? At once, her former husband’s face materialized in her mind. Already, as Edward and Carlisle told her it would, his visage was growing dimmer, less distinct, as though he were in a dream. He was becoming a faceless demon; her only memory his hands and his voice. But the memory of his fist was crystal clear…

Downstairs, the piano abruptly stopped.

“You could never be him,” she repeated.

And he whirled. His eyes, the glorious amber eyes she loved, flashed dark. When he spoke, his voice was high pitched and rapid. “Do you know that, Esme? Do you know that I could somehow not be him? That I don’t have it within me to hurt someone? Are you certain? Because I want to hurt him.”

The shock of his words made her flinch, and he didn’t miss it. His body lost a little of its tension. His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, the fist she didn’t realize he’d balled—did he know he’d done it?—released itself back flat.

“I want to hurt him so badly,” he choked. “That’s why I couldn’t be near you. I can’t let you see me this way.”   His hand opened and closed again, as though it couldn’t decide what to do.

She shrank back. “Please,” she felt herself saying, and the words were old. She didn’t mean to be begging Carlisle, of all people, but the begging felt familiar. “Please don’t. Don’t be upset.”

“Esme, of course I’m upset!” he bellowed. “I love you!”

He stopped suddenly, swallowed, and staggered several steps backward

“You…” she tried to repeat the words but found they didn’t make sense.

Carlisle seemed just as surprised as he repeated the words. “I…love you.”

Esme didn’t think about what she did next. Charles had said those words to her, what? Once? Maybe twice? Enough that they were already fading? She still wasn’t used to the way her new body moved, to the fact that as Carlisle protested, she was stronger than he was, and would be for a good while. When she shoved him against the desk, it creaked and groaned under their combined weight; when she straddled him and pressed her hands against his jaw.

“I love you,” he groaned again into her lips. The desk protested further.

“I love you,” she repeated.

He placed his hands on her face, pulling her back from him so that she could look into his eyes. They were the orange gold, partway between when he’d hunted recently and when he would need to hunt immediately. She knew, now, after watching for weeks, how his eyes went from the flaxen gold, to the light yellow, to the darkness of old honeycomb before he set out to hunt again. Now they were just the right yellow; the pale color of the corona of the flower she had planted in the cold garden, weeks late. 

And as she pressed her lips to his again, she realized that perhaps her daffodils had bloomed on St. David’s Day, after all. 

[mangozcat]

hi hi!! It’s a request- uhm can you do a Jeno fluff where it’s a best friend to lovers and you both just slowly fall in love with each other..? Thank you🥺🥺🥺 -🦋

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. lee jeno x fem!reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. fluff, best friends to lovers, tiny bit of angst 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. it was under horrible circumstances that you met. everything seemed dimmer, you felt unmotivated and worst of all; lonely. but then there he was, with a big gummy smile on his face, purely there to lift your spirits. it felt like fate, and if you could go back, you’d fail seventh grade all over again just to meet him.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. hi! I’m so sorry that this took absolutely ages. it took a long time for my brain to come up with a way to write a slow burn, since I’m not really good at that kind of stuff. so, I put a ton heart into this because this is actually based off of my life! I substituted jeno for my childhood friend and everything that happens in this story is very much real (minus the romance), which is why it’s so personal to me. I hope you enjoy this and that it’s not a huge let down!

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐎 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋. it had been under rather unfortunate circumstances, to be honest. having just been forced to go through with your seventh year of school again, it was depressing, especially since you had already done half of it the year before. but in a sense, you were also grateful for your lack of worth ethic in online school, because it allowed you to return during the second portion of the year and meet him.

he was cute and particularly sweet. the first things that had drawn you to him were his chubby cheeks and beaming smile. he was the epitome of child-like innocence. you noticed quite quickly from the one class you shared with him that he enjoyed mixing work and play. he was sure to ask questions about the lesson at hand, not afraid of it embarrassing him. after all, failing would just embarrass him more. but at the same time, jeno was carefree, funny, and loved to joke around to lighten the tension in the classroom.

at first he hadn’t really noticed you. he knew there was a new girl in his class and that you were supposed to be a grade ahead, but he wasn’t too caught up in your arrival like some other people were. they would bombard you with questions about where you came from, forcing you to re-explain the situation for about the eighth time within three days. after awhile, you stopped counting.

but it was when you slipped during class that he finally noticed you. it wasn’t a mocking kind of attention, nor was he laughing to humiliate you. he did laugh at the incident, but to be fair, you laughed too. and to make up for it, he even helped you get up off the floor. “some shoes need better grip,” you had huffed out, patting down your shirt. 

jeno had smiled, releasing a small laugh, agreeing wholeheartedly as he slid his foot along the slick floors, pointing out how his foot was sliding too. “it’s the floors,” he said, walking over to where the computers were stacked neatly in a pile, making you follow after him to keep up. you used him as a little guide as to what you were supposed to be doing in the class; after all, he had been there for a half a year and you were there for a mere few days. “they hardly clean them, and when they do, it’s left slick with water. so either way, it’s a lose-lose situation.”

you had shrugged during that time, simply accepting that things happen, people slip, but that you always had to get back up.

you weren’t aware, at the time, how easy it would be to fall into routine with jeno. grabbing computers together, holding small conversations during that time. and when he had to go back to his desk, he’d always shoot you friendly smiles during the lesson. the two of you even began eating lunch together and he introduced you to his friends.

they were definitely not as open to the idea of adding someone new to their friend group. you understood that part pretty well. when you were still in your correct grade, with the people you grew up with, it always felt strange when someone new joined the school. it wasn’t that you were a rude person or incapable of allowing others in, it was merely the fact that it felt odd; wrong. the group had been formed for so long that any foreigner being spotted within its’ bounds seemed off.

it took a long time to get used to, for both you and them. seeing this new face daily, beginning to get to know someone new. it was uncharted territory, or at least, it was a land they hadn’t explored since they were little. but you managed to bond, slowly but surely, with the other boys and began getting comfortable around them.

and over time, the pain of not seeing your former friends slowly eased away.

he was helping you more than he realized, especially since people had taken more to just staring at you than approaching. they were interested in you for sure; your origins, why you weren’t in the correct grade, everything about you. but no one actually put in enough effort to say anything aloud or ask questions, or simply be near you at all. they simply watched from afar.

jeno hadn’t exactly done any different, it was all circumstantial. but after your odd meeting, he put in effort to keep the friendship alive, surprising you. he was a friendly guy, not just to you, but to everyone else too. it was reassuring in a sense, to know that you had this nice guy by your side. you got to see him every morning, and he brightened your day more than he’ll ever understand.

jeno was your anchor. he always helped you do homework, helped you find your way to the classrooms that you had never visited before, or that had changed teachers. and often times, he’d walk with you to class. it was the start of a beautiful friendship, and you had nothing but your failure to thank for it.

sometime during your school years, jeno started changing. he was quickly becoming a handsome, well-mannered young man that had the hearts of young teens clenching tightly. they were all desperately whipped for him, and while you had to admit that yes, he was handsome, you had been friends for too long for it to change.

you were satisfied with jeno’s friendship and were appreciative of his comforting presence.

to put the progression of your friendship into words would be far too difficult. emotions? easy; there was a lot of hesitance, but then came happiness and this sudden feeling of peace. everything slowly became natural, and you had found yourself residing within the comfort of his arms.

“you gonna eat your fries?” you asked, looking up to see his face. sat between his legs, head on his shoulder with a book between your hands. one earbud was in your ear, the other in his. he shook his head, running his fingers through your hair soothingly and letting you reach over to steal the fries from his tray.

this was how most of your lunch periods went by. seeing as you and jeno shared one or two classes each year (excluding the one unfortunate year where you shared none), you’d spend all of your lunch period together. using it as time to bond and catch up. most of that time was spent in silence. it was comfortable. bot much was required to say aloud and it was just nice, sweet, peaceful silence.

jeno’s eyes were closed behind you, his head lolling to the gentle music running into both of your ears. he was rocking the two of you back and forth easily as you continued to read, vividly imagining the scenes from the book coming alive. you’d imagine the fierce lions and big cats jumping from the bushes and darting across the courtyard clearing, excited to taste the freedom of what they had been dreaming of; escape.

you never did understand why getting lost in books was so easy. maybe it was just because of the escape the inked words allowed you to have. but it always a fascination, an obsession of yours. words seemed to so easily get up and dance along the lines, shimmying their way into your mind and easily imprinting an image within your brain. stories were your safe zone, your getaway. they helped you collect your thoughts and rearrange them prettily upon your shelves.

you just adored books.

when jeno’s grip on you tightened considerably, pulling you back into him, you let out a small laugh. the boy cuddled his head into the crook of your neck and shook his head, making a ticklish sensation erupt upon your skin. giggling to yourself mindlessly as you squirmed in his arms, he simply smiled to himself. reaching forward, he grabbed the book from your hands.

“now that I have your attention,” he started, making you turn slightly so that you could see his expression. a beaming smile was dancing across his lips, making you mirror it. his eyes dazzled under the light of the sun and you wondered how you’d never realized how pretty his eyes were. they were dark, almost chocolate-colored. they were comforting, you noted.

“I require your assistance, m’lady.” he said cheekily, making you roll your eyes. lightly slapping at his chest, you whined out a sound of annoyance. he had adopted the formality after some play you performed in when you were kids, you being the juliet to some boy’s romeo. he knew you hated it.

“it was one play, jen!”

he grinned. nodding to himself, “yes, it was one, very interesting play that I swore to never forget. I’m simply sticking to my word!” letting out a little laugh at how utterly disgusted you seemed at the reminder of that stupid play, here shook his head; he’d let you off the hook this time. “anyways, I need help on the homework.”

huffing to yourself, you leaned out of his embrace for a minute to grab the paper out of your backpack. handing it to him, you leaned back into his arms. grabbing the earbud from his ear, you plugged it into your own as you let your senses become overwhelmed by the music.

jeno had frowned to himself, but didn’t argue as he copied from your paper.

there comes a point in everyone’s lives where they get into their first relationship. whether it’s some childish kindergarten one or a serious one in college, it happens eventually. it doesn’t have to last forever, nor does it have to be this groundbreaking first experience. it’s a relationship, that’s all.

or at least, that’s what you thought about your first relationship. there wasn’t any magic, no earth shattering love or groundbreaking first times. it was plain, you realized. you didn’t realize that relationships were supposed to be special. they were supposed to make you feel loved and appreciated, and make you feel as though you belonged. you didn’t know that. after all, how could you, when you had never truly experienced the true love of what a relationship was meant to represent?

when you saw people on tv or around campus, you couldn’t help but notice the things in their relationship that wasn’t in yours.

they held hands and exchanged public affections. your boyfriend rarely ever spared you a glance, nor did he put any effort into spending time with you. most people would be eager to spend time with the person they claimed to love. it would invoke excitement even at the mention of being near them. so how come, despite sharing four classes, there was always distance between you? over half of your day was spent together, seats right beside each other, projects intertwined because you were partners. so why did everything feel so wrong?

you liked him, you really did. but every day you regretted ever dating him to begin with. it was such a kick to the gut when you remembered that it was him who asked you out, who put so much love and care into your first date. and that at the same time, it was him who seemed to avoid your existence in general.

“y’know, staying in your bedroom isn’t helping,” you heard jeno sigh from the doorway of your room. your mom surely let him in, you knew, as you huffed at the intrusion. he glanced around at the messy space and raised a brow at it’s appearance; you were always the tidy type.

peace and quiet was never going to come, was it?

“am I not allowed to wallow in my misery?” you said, peeking your head out from under the covers, your eyes filled with unshed tears. jeno knew well enough about the incident. it wasn’t some well kept secret, seeing how public the display of anger was. your boyfriend had yelled at you in the middle of the courtyard, leaving you humiliated and lonely.

jeno only sent you a comforting smile to cover up his own frown. holding up a box of cookies, he shook them eagerly as he came bounding into your room. taking his shoes off in a hurry, he declared, “well, as long as I exist, you aren’t allowed to do anything alone!”

a small smile bloomed on your face as he crawled over your bed, resting himself behind you, atop the covers. you turned around, coming face to face with the beaming boy. sending him a small, sad smile, you finally caved in and rolled yourself into his open arms. he only patted your back, chin atop your head as the two of you shared these simple, though comforting moments together.

you both knew that your heart hurt. but at the same time, you desperately tried to cling onto the few good memories of him that you had. he still loved you, he promised he’d always love you. the reality was simply to hard to accept, and you knew that if you actually faced it, it’d only make you hurt more.

he did love you.

when your boyfriend finally broke it off with you, you were left feeling like a used toy. useless, worthless, so incredibly naive. you ended up hiding away in your room, begging your mom to not let anyone in so that you could be alone. you didn’t want to be alone, but the thought of having anyone with you also felt so miserable and embarrassing.

it had been a few days since you closed yourself off. you struggled to attend school and the rare times you actually showed up, you avoided all traces of humanity. it felt like eyes were always on you, following you around. you felt so unexplainably exposed under their gazes.

when jeno showed up at your doorstep for probably the tenth time since the breakup, you were beginning to get tired. you missed your best friend, but at the same time, you were so overwhelmed by what you were feeling. your mom was probably the smartest person in your life, so when she let him in, you were both confused but also didn’t want to question her reasons.

mom knows best, you had been told.

you could hear the padding against your stairs as he practically ran up the flight, bouncing between steps. he didn’t even bother knocking on your door before opening it, staring at your figure sprawled across your bed. tear-stained cheeks and eyes that seemed to be so far away; the windows to your confused and lost soul.

but you were surprised to see the same thing reflected in his face. he had bags beneath his eyes as if he hadn’t been sleeping. he seemed visibly thinner, almost as if he wasn’t eating properly. and his hair was messy, his clothes still what he woke up in. he was unkempt, to say the least.

the first thing he did was meet you on the bed. arms instinctively wrapping around your figure and drawing you as close as possible, though his grip remained gentle, as if he’d break you. you sniffled instantly, tears swimming in your eyes as you buried your head in his neck. he had pulled you into his lap sideways, supporting you with his arms.

“talk to me,” he whispered out into the crown of your head, showering your hair in gentle, wisp-like kisses.

“I feel,” you started, biting back the lump in your throat and fighting off the tears threatening to escape your eyes. your eyes glossed over as you took in a long, shaky breath of air. “so, so alone. my mom’s here, and I see her every morning. and I go to school and talk to people but-”

suddenly, his hands were on your face, making you look at him. his brows were furrowed, his chocolate eyes hurt. “you aren’t alone,” he said your name sweetly, surprising you in how softly it slipped from his lips. “I’m here, I always have been, and I always will be.”

and then, you realized.

he was right.

jeno had been by your side throughout everything. regardless of how much time you spent together, it never seemed like enough. always desperate for more, always wanting to taste the sweetness of the other’s presence. it was like a sweet drug, and you were no foreigner to the withdrawals. jeno was everything you realized you had been searching for.

no distance was too far, nor was it too short when it came to the two of you. he was always there to make you smile, to bring light to your days, to cheer you up. and by the looks of him, any pain you felt was almost like a dig at him too. he was your number one fan, always supporting you throughout. 

you had been searching for this perfect instance. one where your boyfriend would finally notice how important you were to him. where he would chase after you to fix what he had broken, to restore the peace between the two of. to bring the magic, the love, back to the relationship. yet, that never happened. it was merely a distant dream, one that would never be achieved or become reality.

maybe in some other universe it would be real, and you’d be happy.

but that universe wasn’t this one. this universe was far more meaningful. because despite all the pain, it lead you to him, it lead you to realize; jeno was always there. he would never leave your side. and just how he’d been banging on your door for days straight, he’d continue to do so to your heart.

lee jeno, the perfect boy that would never let you be alone. lee jeno, the childish, the brave, the sweet, the caring. lee jeno, the boy of your dreams. lee jeno was him. lee jeno was who you had been searching for, had been dreaming of, unaware of the fact that he was right by your side the entire time.

and that’s why you kissed him.

because he was the boy you had been after. he wasn’t your first boyfriend, you both knew that. but he was your first love, and that would never change.