#with how vast and impossible to understand the world is and will always be

[lucksea]

the philosophy of that personality post is also why i have forsaken any and all labels and flags except the progress flag . we dont need more boxes lets just all be free who cares

[rotten-contemptible-heart]

I will simply never understand people who say they don't like Nona or call the plot of Nona the Ninth uninteresting. I saw someone describe the book as "cold" and I've been turning that over in my head because?? did we read the same book?? Nona is about love and warmth and about finding those things in the coldest of places and knowing that when things are bleak and dark you will always have love to fall back on. Nona is the soul of a misused, abused and ancient planet who was never treated right, even by the people who claimed to love her, but she doesn't know that! she has endless, unlimited capacity for love!

she is perhaps the only character in the entire series who will never experience the horrors of love because her love is pure and uncomplicated and limitless.

Nona is the soul of a planet, and yet she is so human. She is so desperately human, she wants to live and love, and she is terrified of the idea that both could be taken from her. Alecto loves John but Nona loves everyone.

She is the soul of a planet who wanted nothing more than to love and be loved, and now for the first time in her vast and ancient life, she is a six-month-old who loves and is loved by people who didn't even know who she was! they took her in because she was in the body of their friend, and then when she was nona, they loved her for her, without forcing any of their demands or expectations onto her!

And she contrasts so beautifully with Harrow. Nona, who never knew who she was until right at the end, who didn't have access to her memories of those who used and abused and emptied her, is the opposite of Harrow, who is 200 dead children, who has always known she is 200 dead children.

Harrow and Alecto are chained in so many ways -- Harrow metaphorically, and Alecto physically. Harrow's body is the memory of 200 souls, and Alecto's body is a prison for the soul of the entire earth. Neither lives for themselves and neither is free. And yet Nona, who is both of them, is free. She is the love that couldn't be taken away.

And I could talk forever about the importance of the world that Nona exists in, and how crucial it is for the story that we see her friends and what their lives are like, and how important it is that the reader is confronted with the reality and the cost of John's empire. The book places so much emphasis on the value of these regular human lives, directly contrasting the first two books, in which impossibly ancient beings simply do not care about average humans.

Nona is six months old and she cares about everyone, and for the first time in the earth's ancient life, everyone cares about her, and doesn't expect anything in return for it.

God I love Nona so much.

[circeyoru]

The Only Reason _ Part 2

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Worker!Reader - Mana Chaos AU]

*Note: I got a name for the AU!! Mana Chaos!! A bit random, but I just went with it. Here’s part 2 since the part one blew up.

Part 1 — Part 2 (here) — Part 3 — Part 4

“Have a safe trip, Personnel 002.”

“Be safe, please.”

“We’re counting on you.”

“Don’t let your guard down.”

As you expected everyone was treating you like you were the one going into a war zone and not the S-Rank Hunter that was doing the country a favour. You internally sighed while you maintained an expressionless face to all those around you bidding farewell or wishing you luck and safety. 

Honestly speaking, you were the safest person in the building, if not, in the world with the amount of Shadow soldiers Jinwoo has put into your shadow for your protection. Just the other day, you were furiously protected by none other than Beru, one of Jinwoo’s strongest general grade or was it higher? You can’t recall and Jinwoo did explain to you once, but your system overloaded and didn’t catch much.

Concerning how those soldiers came to be, it was simple. To raise them from the dead. With every battle, Jinwoo grows stronger and stronger, hence why you privately dubbed him a National Level Hunter. His army of Shadows could practically cover the entire country two or three times, maybe even more. Even give Thomas a run for his money, if they ever meet each other in a battle. It would be distaterous so you rather not come to it.

This is why you didn’t want Jinwoo in the facility at all. He has perfect control over his emotions and high morals if you don’t cross his line. He was overall peaceful even with his vast strength and power. Unlike Thomas, he was tamed and very very well-behaved, to put it simply. You had tried to get your seniors or higher-ups and colleague to understand, but they all brushed it aside, saying an S-Rank belongs here and under surveillance. 

Once, they agreed to observe Jinwoo’s tamed nature, to stop your insistence. However, it turned out horribly. You watched from the surveillance room when your unconvinced party enter Jinwoo’s cell. It all appeared normal until the straitjacket was removed from him and he started lashing out. The guards immediately tried to subdue him and rescue the innocent group from the clushes of the raging Hunter.

A chill ran down your spine as you froze up while the room darkened, an echoy whispered in your ear, “I heard you wanted to kick me out. So cold of you, really. I would have behaved if you had a work-life balance, but you are always in this insufferable building, so I have to decline.”

“You could have just told me…” You voice only came out as a mere mutter, but Jinwoo heard it loud and clear. Whatever controlled and peaceful image you have of Jinwoo gone to the drains, never to be recovered in that moment. Like anyone else, you were afraid. Not for yourself, but for those around you.

A dark chuckle rang and you felt like you were in his shadowy embrace with a weight lunched over from the back of your head down to your spine. “That was an option, but I wanted to show you my opposition to your idea. This was the best way I’ve come up with. Plus, it shows everyone here that you aren’t replaceable.” The weight was gone and the room returned to normal with his words beckoning you to him, “So come and calm me down, Personnel 002.”

Looking out the transport vehicle, you saw the streets practically empty apart from the guards stationed from place to place. You grimaced at the fearful citizens that no doubt went indoors or hid in their homes at the news. 

Whenever an S-Rank is let out of their cell into the streets, be it for fresh air or raiding an impossible dungeon for the country, the public would get news of it and warn the citizens to stay away from the gate and advised to remain indoors while the mentioned locations or roads would be purposefully used to transport the Hunter directly to the site. 

Bringing an S-Rank to an A-Rank gate or higher alone was practically giving them a death sentence. It was the government and people’s way of telling the strong Hunters to control themselves or they would die hourably in the raid while protecting their country. 

A case of such an instance was the Jeju Island Raid. An S-Rank dungeon that have failed for 4 times before an alliance was formed between the Japanese S-Rank and Korean S-Rank. The Japanese Government sent their strongest to offer support, but mostly to get rid of them because they have grown too powerful and influential. With the <Outrage Incident>, they couldn’t afford to take any chances. 

That raid had the most S-Rank Hunters in the same place, fighting the same battle. Originally, Jinwoo wasn’t present and you were with him in his cell doing paperwork while he watched the news. As sudden as it came, Jinwoo demanded to go there to help his fellow S-Rank Hunters from total annihilation. 

When you saw the murderous ant, you knew Jinwoo wanted to add him into his army. You did wonder if the people above would want help, since it was a sure-fire way to rid the S-Rank Hunters but when again without the S-Rank, who would clear the harder gates? This stupid EMI system and all the cautiousness of frightened people. 

In the end, Jinwoo’s wish was granted and you were also sent to the front lines in case Jinwoo went haywire. As drugs and medicine was proven ineffective to Jinwoo, the next best thing was you, since he held you in high regard. Not only did Jinwoo get his new soldier, who was later placed as your bodyguard, but he also somehow managed to control the other surviving S-Rank Hunters. 

What happened after was Jinwoo showing his dominance over the other S-Ranks in Korea and making himself at the top of the food chain. He’s stay mild and controlled because he wanted to. Not because you people —the public and the government— could control him. 

The vehicle stopped and your door was opened from the outside, a guard nodded and welcomed you while you got out. Your eyes looked over to the gigantic gate. 

“Feels like a date, doesn’t it?” Jinwoo’s voice brought your attention to him. Dressed in a causal manner, a shirt and pants, plus a long coat to complete his look, his stuck to his dark theme. You were quite used to him in a straitjacket that everytime he was dressed normally, you were always spellbound. He chuckled and ruffled your hair. “Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re looking good.” You looked away to the side, a faint blush over your cheeks. There was no use fangirling in secret when Beru or some other soldiers would report back to him and he’d have a field day the next time you visit him. You might as well be honest and tell him now to get over it.

Now it was Jinwoo’s turn to freeze up and chuckle. “Thanks.”

Amidst the careful atmosphere, you sense the guards around you two on edge with Jinwoo’s freedom to do anything and his power unrestraint. Better enter the gate before they act out of fear and trigger some ridiculous conflict. “Let’s go, do you need any gear?”

“I only need you by my side.” Jinwoo returned back to his smooth and cheeky self, smiling down at you with a soft look in his eyes. 

You physically and mentally controlled yourself so that you don’t faint from his words, reminding yourself repeatedly that you two were in public. It was hard for you to defend yourself against these attacks of his when he wasn’t in his usual dull look in the EMI. He is one handsome man. “Just say we can go…”

Jinwoo extended his hand to you and waited for you to put your hand in his, essentially you’d be putting your life in his hands because once you pass through the gate, he was your only lifeline to return in one piece. You did so without hesitation, Jinwoo will never allow harm to you and never let you out of his sight so long as he lives. You could feel the nervous and anxious glances from the guards scattered around the site from your nonchalant actions.

With a hum, Jinwoo gripped your hand in his and lead you into the gate where only he and you would be without any other humans. Truly as he said, it’d be a date where he and you could be your true selves.

“Come forth.” Jinwoo summoned his army who all appeared at his command, all kneeled and bowed their heads to him. “Like usual.” His eyes glowed a purple hue, “Leave the boss to me.”

So began the massacre while Jinwoo walked you through it all. The first time it happened, you were beyond terrified for you only knew Jinwoo was a capable S-Rank and shouldn’t be underestimated. That was the first time you’ve seen his army’s might and power. Compared to him, you and all the others in the EMI were ants, mere insects. 

How you managed to capture Jinwoo’s eyes was beyond you, but you were a lucky person to be favoured by him, to some extent. Soon, you didn’t mind Jinwoo’s little favouritism and childish acts to get you into his cell. You looked forward to it. He accepted you for who you are and given you a place, a special irreplaceable place in the world and in his heart. 

For all he has done for you, you wanted to return something for him. You even asked the soldiers in your shadow to keep it a secret from him so it was a grand surprise for him. The Jeju Island Raid that he singlehandedly cleared, you brought the island under his name with your wealth. With the help of the Shadows, you made the island habitable once more and invited some special people to live on it. 

Your hand squeezed his as you looked up to him, he momentarily took his eyes off the battlefield and stared into your eyes. “Yes?”

A rare smile spread on your face, your inner self becoming giddy and expectant of Jinwoo’s reaction. “Do you want to see your family? I’ve offered them a place to live away from all the criticism and pressure from the government and public. They’ve also been wanting to see you too, face to face.”

Jinwoo’s eyes widened. The moment he was reevaluated, he was sent to the EMI building in Korea, he was treated like an object rather than a human being. He could have lashed out, but his family was on the line and while he could use his Shadows to protect him so he has freedom, that only puts a target on his back. By then, people would want him dead for sure. 

The only solance he found in his darkness was you. The you who found out his secret and kept it to yourself, even wanting to give him back his freedom for your security, but he wanted to stay by your side instead. He thought that’s all he needed, but one day, you connected him with his family while in his cell and let him have his moment with them. 

From time to time, you’d call his family and have a video call to let him and his beloved mother and sister chat together while you work in the corner with music playing in your headphones connected to your other device to give him privacy. A luxury he never could have with the protocols of EMI.

He was grateful for all you’ve done for him. Genuinely and absolutely. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

Note: I seriously did NOT think there would be another part. You guys liked part 1 a lot and I have no idea why. Welp, here's part 2. Not sure about a part 3, but I'll see how this one goes. Enjoy~!

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (these are the people from Part 1's comment section)

@stupendouspizzacomputer @xiannars

[azrielbrainrot]

A Soft Place To Fall

Pairing: Band Member!Azriel x F!Reader

Description: Azriel takes you on a date and it's finally time to face your feelings for each other.

Word Count: ~2,8

Band Au Masterlist

The way the buildings and bright lights blended together as you flew down the street in Azriel's motorcycle was incredibly soothing. It made you simultaneously feel like a smal, meaningless dot in a vast universe and the center of the world as it moved around you.

The warm, steady body pressed against you, and the strong hand that came down to hold your leg every time you stopped at a red light or took a sharper turn, always so attentive, always going out of his way to make sure you were okay, could also be the reason your worries seemed to have evaporated. Either way you felt utterly and perfectly calm.

Your mind had been reeling ever since you woke up this morning. No. Truth be told, you hadn't slept at all. The insistent thoughts and emotions running amok in your body wouldn't let you have even a moment of peace. You think you managed to drift off well into the early hours of the morning but were immediately greeted with hazel eyes and honeyed words haunting your dreams, reminding you of your predicament and effectively waking you up.

As soon as Azriel told you he wanted to take you somewhere you knew what he had planned. Your feelings had been written on both of your faces for so long that it was getting damn near impossible to ignore them or to deny them to anyone that spent more than a handful of minutes with you. He made no effort to hide his intentions either, Azriel wanted you to know this was a date - a proper date, unlike all the times you've been out to dinner, walked through the park, bookshops and record stores hand in hand, even watched movies at his house, falling asleep curled into each other on his bed, only to act like you were still just friends and nothing more, - and have the chance to back out if that was what you wanted.

Azriel was infinitely patient and understanding, with you most of all, and you were thankful for it, truly, but you had no intention of pushing him away. There were no doubts left in your mind - you were more than ready for this. Not only were you ready, but you were also stupidly giddy. You were almost bursting with excitement in fact.

At first there was a tiny voice inside you that told you if things ended up not working out you'd end up losing one of the best friends you've ever had. Just the thought reminded you of the pain in your chest every time you thought about Eleanor and how horribly things had ended between you, but Azriel was different and you weren't going to let fear or ill placed anxiety keep you away from him.

You couldn't wait for all the words you've left unsaid to finally find their way past your lips, for the lingering touches not to find their end in hesitant withdrawal. You couldn't wait to stop pretending that he wasn't the best thing that has happened to you in recent memory and to proudly call him yours. You don't know how you've managed to wait this long to feel his hands on your body and finally taste his lips, to know how that beautifully melodic voice of his sounds like when he's moaning your name and to find out every little sound he could elicit from you with his equally as talented fingers.

Your relationship has always toed the line on what could be considered platonic but you had never actually crossed it, only played around with it, twirling it around your finger until it became too taut and the tiniest pull would snap it completely. Over the last few days things had only gotten blurrier with this date - the confirmation that things were about to change - hanging between you. It was only the knowledge of this bond you shared being so important that there was no room for error and that Azriel was intent on doing things right that kept you both from crossing the line too soon.

While you're still lost in thought, Azriel starts slowing down, soon coming to a stop and parking his bike on the side of the road. You're not exactly sure what you were expecting since he hadn't told you where he was taking you but it certainly wasn't a residential area.

The building you stopped by seemed to be the tallest in the whole street but it was still under construction, the plastic draped over it hiding what will soon come to be an impressive facade. There was a sign hung by the makeshift entrance that explicitly read “do not enter” and you were still reading it when Azriel approached you, fingers reaching out to unbuckle your helmet and carefully taking it off for you.

You allow yourself a moment to take him in as the helmet is lifted off your head, getting lost in his bright hazel eyes, twinkling with amusement, before moving onto his messy hair, the helmet having ruffled it just right, and how good he looked in his riding jacket, the black leather oh so enticing against his skin. The sight is so breathtaking that it makes you forget the world around you for a second. The smile he has worn ever since he picked you up grows as he takes in the enamored look on your face. You were so lucky.

“We're here,” he tells you, obviously aware of your confusion and finding it hilarious, adorable even.

“Are we?”

Azriel simply nods through a soft chuckle and grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers as he walks to the gate, punching in the password and easily making his way inside the building.

There's probably nowhere in the world you wouldn't follow Azriel to, especially when he was holding your hand as he guided you, but even though this was an upscale apartment complex, one you could only dream of living in some day, the darkness and silence made it a bit eerie.

“There are easier ways to kidnap someone, you know.” At least the elevator seemed to already be working so you wouldn't have to climb up who knows how many flights of stairs. “You didn't have to seduce me for months just to get me here.”

Azriel chuckles again, the light sound traveling down the dark hall and seemingly illuminating it on the way. Tugging on your hand, he pulls you closer, slowing down his steps so you can walk right at his side before looking down to study you. You've noticed how he seems to thrive in the dark, the low lights casting shadows on his face and carving out every feature, making him appear almost otherworldly.

“Seduce?” You nod, humming in confirmation, trying your best to put on a solemn expression despite the smile that doesn't seem to want to abandon your face. “I have done no such thing.” A scoff escapes you then, his own smile widening before adding, “Come on. You said you trusted me.”

“And I do,” you reassure, squeezing his hand, “but this isn't exactly what I had in mind.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I half expected you to just kick Cassian out and just take me home honestly.”

“That's what we always do,” he teased, “I can be a little more romantic than that.”

You believe him wholeheartedly, but you really would have been more than satisfied with staying in with him, the house to yourselves.

“Either way,” you roll your eyes, the giddy smile etched on your face breaking the illusion once again. “I didn't expect trespassing.”

It was his turn to scoff. “Rhys' father owns this apartment complex so we're not trespassing,” he explains just as the elevator doors open, guiding you inside. Just how many buildings did Rhys' father own? “Not really at least.”

“So we'll just blame Rhys if there's trouble?”

“Exactly,” he says as he presses the button for the top floor, the elevator coming to life and lifting you noiselessly to your destination.

“And can I know why we're here?”

“Were you always this curious?”

“Of course,” you confirm quickly, tugging on his hand as you look up at him with pleading eyes. You'd like to say that you were only trying to get information out of him but the desire to taste that gorgeous smile playing on his face was building with every passing second, and being inside the elevator alone was only giving you more ideas.

“I told you it was a surprise.” His voice comes out a bit breathy and his eyes leave yours for what feels like the first time tonight, darting to your lips, the same thoughts that plagued your mind crossing his. Just when it feels like you would both give in, a ring sounds over the closed space, letting you know that you had reached your floor, the door opening immediately. “You're about to find out anyway.”

When he guides you to the stairs that access the roof you start getting a pretty good idea of what he prepared, almost skipping along those last few steps with him following right behind, warning you to be careful.

Opening the door, you step onto the rooftop giddly, the view knocking the breath out of you immediately. Azriel had set up a small picnic for you; a few soft blankets and pillows placed on the ground, forming a comfortable nest for you, faintly illuminated by fairy lights, careful not to take away from the sight of the stars and the moon shining down on you.

You had been right to think this was the tallest building on this street. That paired with a mostly empty area surrounded by woods made for a perfect stargazing spot. It had been ages since you were able to see the stars so clearly, and you let yourself get lost in the view, head tilted up to the night sky in childlike wonder.

“You told me it was hard to find a place tall and dark enough to see the stars so I wanted to find it for you,” Azriel speaks up from behind you, sounding suddenly nervous. “I wanted to take you to a park or even further into the woods, but that probably wouldn't be a good idea at night. I mean parks close before nightfall and then we'd really be trespassing.”

He was rambling. Gods, he was adorable. You turn around to face him, the smile on your face soothing him somewhat, shoulders visibly relaxing. If he looked beautiful in the light and enchanting in the dark, he looked absolutely otherworldly under the stars.

“You're quiet.”

“I really want to kiss you.” The words tumble out unattended. It's a miracle you've kept them down for this long really.

“There's something I need to tell you first,” he tells you, the way his eyes darted to your lips letting you know that he wanted to kiss you just as badly. You nod in agreement, there was a lot you wanted to say too, but you can't help reaching out, tentatively holding his hand and letting him interlock your fingers together as he finds the right words.

“I love you.” Your eyes widen, not quite expecting him to say it so bluntly. “I thought it might be too soon to tell you, but I really do,” he continues, cupping your cheek and caressing the skin softly, “I think I've loved you from the moment I met you. I've always found it hard to connect with people, but there was no hesitation or confusion when it came to you. All I felt was safe and cared for, and an all-consuming desire to do the same for you. All I want is to spend every minute with you, to share every moment with you. I can't imagine my life without you, can't even begin to tell you how happy it makes me to just think of the possibility that I can spend the rest of my life by your side.”

“I think…” You shake your head, trying to find your voice in the midst of the emotions rushing through you. “I feel the exact same way. I've never fallen for someone so easily, it feels like it was meant to be, like we were always meant to be. I love you too. So much.”

With your heart beating wildly against your chest, you search his eyes, studying the way they light up and his face breaks into the sweetest, most full of love smile you've ever been on the receiving end of. Unfortunately - or not, if you really thought about it - you don't have the opportunity to bask in it for long as he starts leaning in, your body moving immediately, mirroring his.

When your lips meet in the middle you swear you feel the blood pumping through your veins speed up and turn into lava, spreading warmth to your whole body. One of his hands finds your waist, pulling you closer and you let your arms wrap around his neck, reciprocating the feeling.

All your senses seem to be overwhelmed by him, unable to get enough of his touch, scent and taste. Hands tangling in his hair, the same strands you've felt between your fingers countless times, but never quite like this. You were also more than familiar with the feeling of his body pressed against yours, his arms wrapped around you and his scarred hands caressing your skin softly, but they had never held this same weight before. Everything felt new and exhilarating while maintaining the same familiarity and comfort Azriel always brought you.

This had been well worth the wait. You would have waited a month, a year or even a century more to be able to hold Azriel in your arms like this if that's what it took.

He starts pulling away entirely too soon in your opinion, only realizing how breathless you were when your lungs work to fill themselves with as much air as possible as soon as his lips part from yours. With arms wrapped tightly around him, you don't give him the chance to escape too far from your grasp. It didn't seem like he wanted to either though, his arms never moving from your body either, only pulling away enough to meet your gaze with his beautiful hazel eyes bursting with love and affection as he took you in.

“You have no idea how many times I've dreamed of this.”

“Yes, I do,” you chuckle softly. Azriel has been the protagonist in all your dreams and daydreams for as long as you've met him. You couldn't even begin to count how many times you've dreamt of calling him yours and being held like this.

He lets out an amused breath of his own, dropping a few kisses to your cheek, trailing a path to your awaiting lips, indulging you for only a moment before pulling away again, chuckling at the way you pout at him.

“I would be more than happy to keep you by my side as we've been for the rest of my life if that's what you needed from me. For you I can be anything you want me to be,” he starts again, butterflies erupting in your stomach at his sweet voice and sweeter words. “but nothing would make me happier than to be able to call you mine,” he says, love and sincerity shining in his eyes brighter than any of the stars you had just been admiring, “if you allow me to.”

And you kiss him again. You can't seem to stop yourself, always needing more when it comes to him, an insatiable hunger growing with each passing second. It almost feels impossible to be this full of love, it makes you want to scream it out from the rooftop, letting the whole world know about the man who stole your heart and who you'd give your entire body to if that's what he wanted. It's so intense, devouring you from the inside. It feels magical. It feels perfect.

Your lips move against each other for what feels like hours, only pulling away when you're once again reminded that you needed to breathe and sadly couldn't spend the rest of your life kissing him. He presses his forehead against yours once again, his heart beating as unrestrained as yours against the palm of your hand.

“I need you to say it, princess.”

His breathy voice makes you want to kiss him again, wanting to make it worse, but you restrain yourself long enough to whisper against his lips.

“I'm already yours, Azriel.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Copyright takedowns are a cautionary tale that few are heeding

On July 14, I'm giving the closing keynote for the fifteenth HACKERS ON PLANET EARTH, in QUEENS, NY. Happy Bastille Day! On July 20, I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

We're living through one of those moments when millions of people become suddenly and overwhelmingly interested in fair use, one of the subtlest and worst-understood aspects of copyright law. It's not a subject you can master by skimming a Wikipedia article!

I've been talking about fair use with laypeople for more than 20 years. I've met so many people who possess the unshakable, serene confidence of the truly wrong, like the people who think fair use means you can take x words from a book, or y seconds from a song and it will always be fair, while anything more will never be.

Or the people who think that if you violate any of the four factors, your use can't be fair – or the people who think that if you fail all of the four factors, you must be infringing (people, the Supreme Court is calling and they want to tell you about the Betamax!).

You might think that you can never quote a song lyric in a book without infringing copyright, or that you must clear every musical sample. You might be rock solid certain that scraping the web to train an AI is infringing. If you hold those beliefs, you do not understand the "fact intensive" nature of fair use.

But you can learn! It's actually a really cool and interesting and gnarly subject, and it's a favorite of copyright scholars, who have really fascinating disagreements and discussions about the subject. These discussions often key off of the controversies of the moment, but inevitably they implicate earlier fights about everything from the piano roll to 2 Live Crew to antiracist retellings of Gone With the Wind.

One of the most interesting discussions of fair use you can ask for took place in 2019, when the NYU Engelberg Center on Innovation Law & Policy held a symposium called "Proving IP." One of the panels featured dueling musicologists debating the merits of the Blurred Lines case. That case marked a turning point in music copyright, with the Marvin Gaye estate successfully suing Robin Thicke and Pharrell Williams for copying the "vibe" of Gaye's "Got to Give it Up."

Naturally, this discussion featured clips from both songs as the experts – joined by some of America's top copyright scholars – delved into the legal reasoning and future consequences of the case. It would be literally impossible to discuss this case without those clips.

And that's where the problems start: as soon as the symposium was uploaded to Youtube, it was flagged and removed by Content ID, Google's $100,000,000 copyright enforcement system. This initial takedown was fully automated, which is how Content ID works: rightsholders upload audio to claim it, and then Content ID removes other videos where that audio appears (rightsholders can also specify that videos with matching clips be demonetized, or that the ad revenue from those videos be diverted to the rightsholders).

But Content ID has a safety valve: an uploader whose video has been incorrectly flagged can challenge the takedown. The case is then punted to the rightsholder, who has to manually renew or drop their claim. In the case of this symposium, the rightsholder was Universal Music Group, the largest record company in the world. UMG's personnel reviewed the video and did not drop the claim.

99.99% of the time, that's where the story would end, for many reasons. First of all, most people don't understand fair use well enough to contest the judgment of a cosmically vast, unimaginably rich monopolist who wants to censor their video. Just as importantly, though, is that Content ID is a Byzantine system that is nearly as complex as fair use, but it's an entirely private affair, created and adjudicated by another galactic-scale monopolist (Google).

Google's copyright enforcement system is a cod-legal regime with all the downsides of the law, and a few wrinkles of its own (for example, it's a system without lawyers – just corporate experts doing battle with laypeople). And a single mis-step can result in your video being deleted or your account being permanently deleted, along with every video you've ever posted. For people who make their living on audiovisual content, losing your Youtube account is an extinction-level event:

https://www.eff.org/wp/unfiltered-how-youtubes-content-id-discourages-fair-use-and-dictates-what-we-see-online

So for the average Youtuber, Content ID is a kind of Kafka-as-a-Service system that is always avoided and never investigated. But the Engelbert Center isn't your average Youtuber: they boast some of the country's top copyright experts, specializing in exactly the questions Youtube's Content ID is supposed to be adjudicating.

So naturally, they challenged the takedown – only to have UMG double down. This is par for the course with UMG: they are infamous for refusing to consider fair use in takedown requests. Their stance is so unreasonable that a court actually found them guilty of violating the DMCA's provision against fraudulent takedowns:

https://www.eff.org/cases/lenz-v-universal

But the DMCA's takedown system is part of the real law, while Content ID is a fake law, created and overseen by a tech monopolist, not a court. So the fate of the Blurred Lines discussion turned on the Engelberg Center's ability to navigate both the law and the n-dimensional topology of Content ID's takedown flowchart.

It took more than a year, but eventually, Engelberg prevailed.

Until they didn't.

If Content ID was a person, it would be baby, specifically, a baby under 18 months old – that is, before the development of "object permanence." Until our 18th month (or so), we lack the ability to reason about things we can't see – this the period when small babies find peek-a-boo amazing. Object permanence is the ability to understand things that aren't in your immediate field of vision.

Content ID has no object permanence. Despite the fact that the Engelberg Blurred Lines panel was the most involved fair use question the system was ever called upon to parse, it managed to repeatedly forget that it had decided that the panel could stay up. Over and over since that initial determination, Content ID has taken down the video of the panel, forcing Engelberg to go through the whole process again.

But that's just for starters, because Youtube isn't the only place where a copyright enforcement bot is making billions of unsupervised, unaccountable decisions about what audiovisual material you're allowed to access.

Spotify is yet another monopolist, with a justifiable reputation for being extremely hostile to artists' interests, thanks in large part to the role that UMG and the other major record labels played in designing its business rules:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/12/streaming-doesnt-pay/#stunt-publishing

Spotify has spent hundreds of millions of dollars trying to capture the podcasting market, in the hopes of converting one of the last truly open digital publishing systems into a product under its control:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/27/enshittification-resistance/#ummauerter-garten-nein

Thankfully, that campaign has failed – but millions of people have (unwisely) ditched their open podcatchers in favor of Spotify's pre-enshittified app, so everyone with a podcast now must target Spotify for distribution if they hope to reach those captive users.

Guess who has a podcast? The Engelberg Center.

Naturally, Engelberg's podcast includes the audio of that Blurred Lines panel, and that audio includes samples from both "Blurred Lines" and "Got To Give It Up."

So – naturally – UMG keeps taking down the podcast.

Spotify has its own answer to Content ID, and incredibly, it's even worse and harder to navigate than Google's pretend legal system. As Engelberg describes in its latest post, UMG and Spotify have colluded to ensure that this now-classic discussion of fair use will never be able to take advantage of fair use itself:

https://www.nyuengelberg.org/news/how-explaining-copyright-broke-the-spotify-copyright-system/

Remember, this is the best case scenario for arguing about fair use with a monopolist like UMG, Google, or Spotify. As Engelberg puts it:

The Engelberg Center had an extraordinarily high level of interest in pursuing this issue, and legal confidence in our position that would have cost an average podcaster tens of thousands of dollars to develop. That cannot be what is required to challenge the removal of a podcast episode.

Automated takedown systems are the tech industry's answer to the "notice-and-takedown" system that was invented to broker a peace between copyright law and the internet, starting with the US's 1998 Digital Millennium Copyright Act. The DMCA implements (and exceeds) a pair of 1996 UN treaties, the WIPO Copyright Treaty and the Performances and Phonograms Treaty, and most countries in the world have some version of notice-and-takedown.

Big corporate rightsholders claim that notice-and-takedown is a gift to the tech sector, one that allows tech companies to get away with copyright infringement. They want a "strict liability" regime, where any platform that allows a user to post something infringing is liable for that infringement, to the tune of $150,000 in statutory damages.

Of course, there's no way for a platform to know a priori whether something a user posts infringes on someone's copyright. There is no registry of everything that is copyrighted, and of course, fair use means that there are lots of ways to legally reproduce someone's work without their permission (or even when they object). Even if every person who ever has trained or ever will train as a copyright lawyer worked 24/7 for just one online platform to evaluate every tweet, video, audio clip and image for copyright infringement, they wouldn't be able to touch even 1% of what gets posted to that platform.

The "compromise" that the entertainment industry wants is automated takedown – a system like Content ID, where rightsholders register their copyrights and platforms block anything that matches the registry. This "filternet" proposal became law in the EU in 2019 with Article 17 of the Digital Single Market Directive:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/09/today-europe-lost-internet-now-we-fight-back

This was the most controversial directive in EU history, and – as experts warned at the time – there is no way to implement it without violating the GDPR, Europe's privacy law, so now it's stuck in limbo:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/05/eus-copyright-directive-still-about-filters-eus-top-court-limits-its-use

As critics pointed out during the EU debate, there are so many problems with filternets. For one thing, these copyright filters are very expensive: remember that Google has spent $100m on Content ID alone, and that only does a fraction of what filternet advocates demand. Building the filternet would cost so much that only the biggest tech monopolists could afford it, which is to say, filternets are a legal requirement to keep the tech monopolists in business and prevent smaller, better platforms from ever coming into existence.

Filternets are also incapable of telling the difference between similar files. This is especially problematic for classical musicians, who routinely find their work blocked or demonetized by Sony Music, which claims performances of all the most important classical music compositions:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/08/copyfraud/#beethoven-just-wrote-music

Content ID can't tell the difference between your performance of "The Goldberg Variations" and Glenn Gould's. For classical musicians, the best case scenario is to have their online wages stolen by Sony, who fraudulently claim copyright to their recordings. The worst case scenario is that their video is blocked, their channel deleted, and their names blacklisted from ever opening another account on one of the monopoly platforms.

But when it comes to free expression, the role that notice-and-takedown and filternets play in the creative industries is really a sideshow. In creating a system of no-evidence-required takedowns, with no real consequences for fraudulent takedowns, these systems are huge gift to the world's worst criminals. For example, "reputation management" companies help convicted rapists, murderers, and even war criminals purge the internet of true accounts of their crimes by claiming copyright over them:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/23/reputation-laundry/#dark-ops

Remember how during the covid lockdowns, scumbags marketed junk devices by claiming that they'd protect you from the virus? Their products remained online, while the detailed scientific articles warning people about the fraud were speedily removed through false copyright claims:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/18/labor-shortage-discourse-time/#copyfraud

Copyfraud – making false copyright claims – is an extremely safe crime to commit, and it's not just quack covid remedy peddlers and war criminals who avail themselves of it. Tech giants like Adobe do not hesitate to abuse the takedown system, even when that means exposing millions of people to spyware:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/13/theres-an-app-for-that/#gnash

Dirty cops play loud, copyrighted music during confrontations with the public, in the hopes that this will trigger copyright filters on services like Youtube and Instagram and block videos of their misbehavior:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/10/duke-sucks/#bhpd

But even if you solved all these problems with filternets and takedown, this system would still choke on fair use and other copyright exceptions. These are "fact intensive" questions that the world's top experts struggle with (as anyone who watches the Blurred Lines panel can see). There's no way we can get software to accurately determine when a use is or isn't fair.

That's a question that the entertainment industry itself is increasingly conflicted about. The Blurred Lines judgment opened the floodgates to a new kind of copyright troll – grifters who sued the record labels and their biggest stars for taking the "vibe" of songs that no one ever heard of. Musicians like Ed Sheeran have been sued for millions of dollars over these alleged infringements. These suits caused the record industry to (ahem) change its tune on fair use, insisting that fair use should be broadly interpreted to protect people who made things that were similar to existing works. The labels understood that if "vibe rights" became accepted law, they'd end up in the kind of hell that the rest of us enter when we try to post things online – where anything they produce can trigger takedowns, long legal battles, and millions in liability:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/08/oh-why/#two-notes-and-running

But the music industry remains deeply conflicted over fair use. Take the curious case of Katy Perry's song "Dark Horse," which attracted a multimillion-dollar suit from an obscure Christian rapper who claimed that a brief phrase in "Dark Horse" was impermissibly similar to his song "A Joyful Noise."

Perry and her publisher, Warner Chappell, lost the suit and were ordered to pay $2.8m. While they subsequently won an appeal, this definitely put the cold grue up Warner Chappell's back. They could see a long future of similar suits launched by treasure hunters hoping for a quick settlement.

But here's where it gets unbelievably weird and darkly funny. A Youtuber named Adam Neely made a wildly successful viral video about the suit, taking Perry's side and defending her song. As part of that video, Neely included a few seconds' worth of "A Joyful Noise," the song that Perry was accused of copying.

In court, Warner Chappell had argued that "A Joyful Noise" was not similar to Perry's "Dark Horse." But when Warner had Google remove Neely's video, they claimed that the sample from "Joyful Noise" was actually taken from "Dark Horse." Incredibly, they maintained this position through multiple appeals through the Content ID system:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/05/warner-chappell-copyfraud/#warnerchappell

In other words, they maintained that the song that they'd told the court was totally dissimilar to their own was so indistinguishable from their own song that they couldn't tell the difference!

Now, this question of vibes, similarity and fair use has only gotten more intense since the takedown of Neely's video. Just this week, the RIAA sued several AI companies, claiming that the songs the AI shits out are infringingly similar to tracks in their catalog:

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/record-labels-sue-music-generators-suno-and-udio-1235042056/

Even before "Blurred Lines," this was a difficult fair use question to answer, with lots of chewy nuances. Just ask George Harrison:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/My_Sweet_Lord

But as the Engelberg panel's cohort of dueling musicologists and renowned copyright experts proved, this question only gets harder as time goes by. If you listen to that panel (if you can listen to that panel), you'll be hard pressed to come away with any certainty about the questions in this latest lawsuit.

The notice-and-takedown system is what's known as an "intermediary liability" rule. Platforms are "intermediaries" in that they connect end users with each other and with businesses. Ebay and Etsy and Amazon connect buyers and sellers; Facebook and Google and Tiktok connect performers, advertisers and publishers with audiences and so on.

For copyright, notice-and-takedown gives platforms a "safe harbor." A platform doesn't have to remove material after an allegation of infringement, but if they don't, they're jointly liable for any future judgment. In other words, Youtube isn't required to take down the Engelberg Blurred Lines panel, but if UMG sues Engelberg and wins a judgment, Google will also have to pay out.

During the adoption of the 1996 WIPO treaties and the 1998 US DMCA, this safe harbor rule was characterized as a balance between the rights of the public to publish online and the interest of rightsholders whose material might be infringed upon. The idea was that things that were likely to be infringing would be immediately removed once the platform received a notification, but that platforms would ignore spurious or obviously fraudulent takedowns.

That's not how it worked out. Whether it's Sony Music claiming to own your performance of "Fur Elise" or a war criminal claiming authorship over a newspaper story about his crimes, platforms nuke first and ask questions never. Why not? If they ignore a takedown and get it wrong, they suffer dire consequences ($150,000 per claim). But if they take action on a dodgy claim, there are no consequences. Of course they're just going to delete anything they're asked to delete.

This is how platforms always handle liability, and that's a lesson that we really should have internalized by now. After all, the DMCA is the second-most famous intermediary liability system for the internet – the most (in)famous is Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act.

This is a 27-word law that says that platforms are not liable for civil damages arising from their users' speech. Now, this is a US law, and in the US, there aren't many civil damages from speech to begin with. The First Amendment makes it very hard to get a libel judgment, and even when these judgments are secured, damages are typically limited to "actual damages" – generally a low sum. Most of the worst online speech is actually not illegal: hate speech, misinformation and disinformation are all covered by the First Amendment.

Notwithstanding the First Amendment, there are categories of speech that US law criminalizes: actual threats of violence, criminal harassment, and committing certain kinds of legal, medical, election or financial fraud. These are all exempted from Section 230, which only provides immunity for civil suits, not criminal acts.

What Section 230 really protects platforms from is being named to unwinnable nuisance suits by unscrupulous parties who are betting that the platforms would rather remove legal speech that they object to than go to court. A generation of copyfraudsters have proved that this is a very safe bet:

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

In other words, if you made a #MeToo accusation, or if you were a gig worker using an online forum to organize a union, or if you were blowing the whistle on your employer's toxic waste leaks, or if you were any other under-resourced person being bullied by a wealthy, powerful person or organization, that organization could shut you up by threatening to sue the platform that hosted your speech. The platform would immediately cave. But those same rich and powerful people would have access to the lawyers and back-channels that would prevent you from doing the same to them – that's why Sony can get your Brahms recital taken down, but you can't turn around and do the same to them.

This is true of every intermediary liability system, and it's been true since the earliest days of the internet, and it keeps getting proven to be true. Six years ago, Trump signed SESTA/FOSTA, a law that allowed platforms to be held civilly liable by survivors of sex trafficking. At the time, advocates claimed that this would only affect "sexual slavery" and would not impact consensual sex-work.

But from the start, and ever since, SESTA/FOSTA has primarily targeted consensual sex-work, to the immediate, lasting, and profound detriment of sex workers:

https://hackinghustling.org/what-is-sesta-fosta/

SESTA/FOSTA killed the "bad date" forums where sex workers circulated the details of violent and unstable clients, killed the online booking sites that allowed sex workers to screen their clients, and killed the payment processors that let sex workers avoid holding unsafe amounts of cash:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/09/fight-overturn-fosta-unconstitutional-internet-censorship-law-continues

SESTA/FOSTA made voluntary sex work more dangerous – and also made life harder for law enforcement efforts to target sex trafficking:

https://hackinghustling.org/erased-the-impact-of-fosta-sesta-2020/

Despite half a decade of SESTA/FOSTA, despite 15 years of filternets, despite a quarter century of notice-and-takedown, people continue to insist that getting rid of safe harbors will punish Big Tech and make life better for everyday internet users.

As of now, it seems likely that Section 230 will be dead by then end of 2025, even if there is nothing in place to replace it:

https://energycommerce.house.gov/posts/bipartisan-energy-and-commerce-leaders-announce-legislative-hearing-on-sunsetting-section-230

This isn't the win that some people think it is. By making platforms responsible for screening the content their users post, we create a system that only the largest tech monopolies can survive, and only then by removing or blocking anything that threatens or displeases the wealthy and powerful.

Filternets are not precision-guided takedown machines; they're indiscriminate cluster-bombs that destroy anything in the vicinity of illegal speech – including (and especially) the best-informed, most informative discussions of how these systems go wrong, and how that blocks the complaints of the powerless, the marginalized, and the abused.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/27/nuke-first/#ask-questions-never

Image: EFF https://www.eff.org/files/banner_library/yt-fu-1b.png

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[godhandler]

Different JJK characters understand ‘love’ differently. 

For Gojo Satoru, love must be terrible, like the memory of choking on food as a kid, or getting trapped by seaweed when you went swimming. Something that breaks through his supernatural divinity and crushes him straight onto the ground. People would not have hesitated using love or loved ones to hurt him all his life. There’s a reason he’s kept himself single, childless, relatively unattached (except for the whole thing with Geto, and you know how that went). Love makes him mortal. Makes him vulnerable. Weak. Every cell of his body resists it and yet he can’t stop craving for it. 

As Geto pointed out, you cannot separate Gojo Satoru (the human) from The Strongest (the divine). Can you genuinely love divinity? Will divinity even love you back? But if you say that you love the human Gojo Satoru, you’re still ignoring or rejecting the divine half of him, so you’re not actually loving him ‘as he is’. If you love someone you can’t fillet him open like a fish and pick and choose whichever parts you love. You have to love him whole. 

Can anyone even have that much love to cover his infinite vastness? Can Gojo be loved wholly? 

On some level, Gojo must himself believe that he is incapable of being truly loved or loving. Infinity on all the time. Just not made for it, he thinks. If simply being understood is an impossible task for him, how could he ask to be loved?

Suppressed appetite, his stomach should ache hungry. Starving. To be loved and cherished and cared for, the way he sees other people are. Sour grapes. Love is terrible. 

He can make do just fine without love, and he does. But goddamn if it doesn’t have him shaking and puking on the floor. 

Unlike him, Geto Suguru is constantly surrounded by love. Not just any love however, Geto begets ‘overwhelming, blinding love’. Loving Geto brings tragedy.

He was loved in his time as a jujutsu sorcerer, and those same people still chose to look the other way and loved him even after the horrific crimes he committed. Gojo, Nanami, Shoko, even Yaga– they loved him and their love kept him alive for an extra decade after his defection. People died because he was loved.  

Until his death he was loved by Gojo and Shoko, so much that they could not part with his corpse. Gojo was sealed, Nanami died, hundreds killed, all because he was loved. 

All his cult followers. The ragtag family he’d collected loved him and risked their lives to help his friends even when he was no longer alive. His daughters (who he taught to kill) died trying to revive him. Because he was loved. 

And even in the afterlife, he went back to a carefree time when he was loved. 

Adored, loved, cherished– could Geto even understand what it is like to not be any of those? How much of the same love does Geto give back? Not necessarily that he was loved more than he gave love back. It’s just that, other than Gojo, he’s always on the heavier end of the scale, the one with more power in the love-balance. Because when it came to it, he chose himself (and his perceived duty to the world) over love. And he continued to do that till the end, and he was still so loved.

As if he’s the hero of the tale, he’s the one with the spotlight on, he was made to be loved. It must feel so natural to fall in love with Geto, so natural for him to receive it. Like poisoned milk when you’re thirsty, it soothes you, fills your heart before taking away a chunk of it. His love is tainted. 

Noritoshi Kamo loves to the point of self-harm. He’s hollow inside– all his motivations to live on are wholly external, to bring his mother into the clan, to honour his position as a clan elder, to protect Maki in the fight against Naoya, to protect his family from the Shinjuku incident. He takes these things as his duties/responsibilities and does them to the best of his ability. 

He takes love to be a duty/responsibility and acts as is proper. He’s the traditional man of the house, the provider and the caretaker for his loved ones. You wouldn’t even realise how easily you’ve relaxed to being taken care of, how you glance at him for his approval before you buy something, how subtly dominant, in a non-sexual way, is his presence. 

Duties/responsibilities are tiring heavy pressures on him to perform, so he performs all through love. He won't complain because he doesn’t expect anything else. He takes what he gets and knows to stay content about it. He acts so perfect that even he doesn’t know where the act ends and he begins. It’s not that he doesn’t want to openly be himself, he just has no idea what that even looks like. 

Perhaps someday he’ll receive a love that will let him relax, be taken care of, be vulnerable, and not perform anymore. I sure hope he does. 

But it’s worrying that the second he has no further duty/responsibility, (eg. when they’re losing to Naoya), he doesn’t hesitate to commit suicide for the sake of others. As if he himself has no reason to keep on living. If he depends that much on his duties/responsibilities to be his reason to live, how much of that intensity would be projected into his love? How very heavy must be the burden of his love?

He has high standards for himself, his love too. It’s up to you if you can match it. 

Something about it would rub you the wrong way. And yet you’ll never leave because you know that despite everything, his love runs deep and solid as iron underground. Perfect on the surface, turbulent underneath but so very true at its core. 

[arlana-likes-to-write]

hi! I’m not sure if you are in the mood of writing dark topics, but I thought I’d just put this out here, you don’t have to write it! I have always been suicidal sinces I was young, death it was never something that scares me, through out my life it was always up and down, sometimes those thoughts are strong, sometimes non existent. But recently it has been getting worse than it has ever been. I have always been pushed to do better, and that just recently got very overwhelming for me as my friend had won an award with basically zero experience at a activity while I had triple her experience but still have not won an award yet, I know how it sounds but for me it’s still hurts a lot, I felt like I could never be great in anyway. And my mom is not helpful in anyway possible. Natasha Romanoff and Maria Hill has always been comfort characters to me, they helped me through some of the toughest times, so I’m trying to see if this trick still work :), if you could write a shot on a suicidal based or maybe even suicidal attempt with black hill x daughter reader it would mean the world to me. Again I understand that this is quite heavy so no pressure:) have a great day xx

Not Enough (Enough to me)

AS STATED IN THE ASK THIS STORY HAS THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME. PLEASE DO NOT READ IT. TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.

Note: As always, I'm so glad you are still here.

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, mention of self-arm, mention of past abuse, sparring that leads to an injury, injury, protective blackhill parents

Relationship: Blackhill x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 4K

As soon as you show interest in space, your parents feed into it. It was a dream of yours to work at SABER. At first, it was NASA, but it took one story from your Aunt Carol to change your course. The idea of working in space on a space station and protecting Earth was enough for you to focus on your studies and physical fitness. You wanted no special treatment from Fury or Monica. You wanted to join the program on your merit and not who your parents are.

Maria Hill and Natasha Romanoff—the Black Widow and the Commander, the Avenger and agent of SWORD—it seemed impossible to go anywhere and not hear their names. When you told them of your dream, they supported you but expressed their concern for your safety, which was fair, but this was your dream.

The classes were challenging. The training sessions were brutal. But you gave it your all and came out on top of your class for the past two semesters. However, you were passed on an opportunity when you were the better candidate by a mile. There were rumors that your classmate got it from a very influential family. He complained to your professor and got it.

Sighing, you closed your eyes and blocked out the lights that danced on your ceiling. The paper that explained why you weren’t selected fell to the floor. One evening, Yelena asked why you wanted to go into space. She said you could make a difference on Earth. You told her the stars and planets fascinated you more. In space, there were so many unknowns yet to be discovered. You wanted to be part of the exploration.

However, you had a hidden motive for choosing space. The further ‘planet’ from Earth was 3.7 billion meters away. That was not counting warp points to other parts of the galaxy. Pluto was 3.7 billion meters away. That planet was the most straightforward comparison to show how vast space is for the average person on Earth. At any given moment, you could be that far away from all of your problems and demons. If you were 3.7 billion meters away, the darkness in your mind couldn’t hurt you.

At 5 years old, you were dropped off at a church. Your biological parents decided one night they no longer wanted to be parents. So the church brought you in. However, you endured the abuse from them for 5 years. It seemed by fate that you ran into Natasha and Maria. They saved you and adopted you on your 11th birthday. Finally, you had a safe home where you felt love. But the demons of your past still haunted you.

When it was quiet, and you allowed your thoughts to wander, you wondered if you were the problem. Maybe you weren’t good enough - that was why your biological parents gave you up, or the church hurt you. When were Natasha and Maria going to let you go? It was a waiting game, a ticking time clock. “Sweetheart,” Maria said, followed by a knock on your door.

You sat up. “Come in,” you forced the words out of your mouth. It tasted bitter. You wanted to be alone. The door opened, and Maria walked in. You moved to the middle of the bed so there was space for her. It was second nature to lay beside her and look at the ceiling.

“Tell me about that one,” Maria pointed to a deep indigo planet with teal streaks. Each star and planet that glowed on your ceiling was real. Another gift from Carol is that she recorded the planets she visited to give to you. It was tradition for one of your moms to lay on your bed and ask you a question.

“That is Vorexia,” you said. You saw her look at you, but you kept your eyes on the planet. “It’s terrestrial with an orbital period of 380 Earth days and a rotation period of 26 Earth hours,” you folded your hands behind your head. There are three major land masses, and the oceans are iridescent blue-green due to the bioluminescent plankton. Vorexia has two moons.” Maria let out a low whistle.

“Damn, you are so smart. Did not get that from your mom,” she teased. You rolled your eyes at her playful jab at the Black Widow. You felt her move onto her side to look at you. “You seemed quiet at dinner. Your mom and I were worried.”

“I’m fine,” you smiled and looked at her. “Just tired. Training was a bitch.” You heard a gasp from the hallway.

“Language,” Natasha said as she entered your room. “You know Steve doesn’t like that kind of talk.” The Black Widow lay on your other side with her back against the headboard. “Is it my turn to pick?”

“Come on, Nat. She just said she was tired. Let her rest. " It was funny to see a pout form on the redhead’s face.

“It’s fine,” you said. “Pick one.” You gently tapped her leg and brought your attention back to the ceiling. She waited for a few passes, then decided on a planet that was a mass of fiery orange and deep red. “Drakaris,” you whispered. “Unlike Earth, the planet’s atmosphere is thick with heavy carbon and a high sulfur content. There are three moons, and a phenomenon called the Burning Tides can occur, which is when the methane seas ignite due to atmospheric lightning.”

“Shit, kid,” Natasha said. “You get your brains from me.” Laughter broke out between you and Maria while Natasha was lost on what was funny.

Laughing and being surrounded by your moms was nice but it filled you with guilt. Why were you so sad and lost when you had everything?

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Somehow, you failed. You stared at the test on your desk with a red 48 circled on the top. How was it possible? You studied for hours. For each practice test, you got at least a 97. How was this possible?

The rest of the class was a blur. A mind-numbing haze surrounded you. You came back to yourself when your professor called your name to stay after class. He asked if everything was alright at home due to your poor grades. Then he tackled on that he expected more from his best student.

You were his best student, but he passed you on the promotion to someone less deserving. You told him you would try harder and left the classroom. Classes were over, and you wanted to release all this pent-up frustration.

Better. He wanted you to be better because you weren’t enough. A simple statement to work harder felt like a slap on the face. All of your fears were confirmed. You needed to hit something hard.

You walked into the gym and into the locker room to change. The shirt was Natasha’s. It was one of her old SHIELD shirts. You felt stronger with one of your mom’s shirts during training. It was a placebo effect. Maria and Natasha watched your back during whatever fight you went in.

You were focused on each punch you sent to the sandbag. The tension was already leaving your shoulders. Although you preferred the logical and scientific side of your career path, you were trained by some of the best. “Agent Spider,” you rolled your eyes at the obnoxious nickname our classmates called you. As soon as they found out who your parents were, the name took like flies to honey. Jayce was the one who called you. He also was the one that your professor chose. “Wanna spar?” He asked and pointed to the mat behind him. A few of your other classmates were gathered around to watch.

“Sure,” you said, even though you were dreading it. But you were backed into a corner - called out in front of everyone. You stood on the sparring mat and faced Jayce. You’ve fought him before. He was stronger than you, but you made up for it with precision. Natasha taught you that no matter how big your opponent was, you could take them down if you were fast and technical.

Jayce rolled his shoulders and adjusted his stance. “I’m not gonna hold back, spider.” You stretched your arms.

“I expected nothing less, Yee,” you heard one of your classmates count down from 3 then yell, ‘Begin!’ You wanted to strike first, a quick step-in jab aimed at his ribs. He barely managed to parry before you spun into a high kick to force him back. The plan was to be relentless and tire him out.

But he pressed on. Jayce absorbed a few glancing hits before countering. He faked a jab to your left, drawing your guard, then swept low with his leg. You stumbled, barely catching yourself. “Getting slow, Jayce,” you taunted. Your stamina was keeping the fight out of his reach. Adrenaline was running through your veins. You were winning this fight. You were going to prove that you deserved to be here more than him.

“Just warming up,” he grinned, sweat dripping down his brow. He took to your strategy and came at you hard. A punch, a knee to your side - you blocked most but not all. You gritted your teeth and retaliated with an elbow strike to his chin.

Something inside him snapped.

You saw it in his eyes.

Fueled by frustration, Jayce grabbed your wist mid-strike and yanked hard. A moment of imbalance. A single misstep. Before you could react, Jayce pivoted and twisted your arm behind your back with too much force. A sickening crack echoed in the gym.

You tried to fight it, but you screamed. Jayce loosened his grip, and you crumbled to the mat, clutching your arm. The room fell into a stunned silence, then erupted into noise.

Too many hands were on you. Someone called for the doctor. During the chaos, you found Jayce with no regret on his face.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

According to Helen, you were lucky it was a clean break, and surgery wasn’t required. Nothing felt lucky about this situation. You were beaten. Again, you weren’t good enough. You knew you should have felt pain during the x-ray or when the cast got set on your arm, but you felt nothing. Again, a numbness washed over you.

Suddenly, the door to the room you were in opened. Your arm was on a side table as you waited for Helen to return. She wrapped it with a layer of soft, stretching fabric that she called a stockinette. Then, a roll of cotton is placed over it to put light pressure on the area and help it heal. She had to get the color you requested. First, you had to deal with your moms. “Hey, sweetheart,” Maria smiled. “How are you?”

“Okay,” you shrugged. “Helen gave me some medicine, so I don’t feel it.” It wasn’t a total lie. You wondered if it would have made a difference. Natasha sighed and kissed the top of your head.

“What happened, malen’kiy?” It had been years since she used that nickname. When the couple first adopted you, you took the time to learn Russian. You were like a sponge when it came to the language. She called you ‘little one.’

“It was an accident,” you told them. I was sparring with a classmate. He got the better of me. “You tried to joke, but you saw the look shared between the couple. Helen said I won’t need surgery,” you tried to change the topic. I’ll be out of training for a few weeks. "

“Who were you sparring with?” Maria asked. You felt small underneath her gaze. The look reminded you of when she was upset at new agents or when Natasha got hurt when Steve claimed it was an easy mission.

“Uh,” you were stalling. The last thing you wanted was for your moms to make a scene, but you couldn’t lie to them. “His name is Jayce Yee. Please don’t do anything,” you pleaded. “We were just sparring.” You watched the tension slowly leave Maria’s shoulders, but she still looked pissed. Before she could answer, Helen walked through the door with the next part of the cast.

“Alright,” she paused, clearly sensing the tension in the room. Her eyes danced between you and your moms. “Is everything okay? I can come back.”

“No!” You cringed at the sound. “I mean, can we just get this over with? I want to go home.” Maria sighed. She mimicked her partner and kissed the top of your head.

“Let’s see what color you picked out.” You picked out red, which Natasha was very happy about. Once the cast hardened, your moms were the first to sign it. They treated you to ice cream afterward, but you were thankful to finally go home.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You sat on your bed, back against your headboard, with a pencil down your cast. No one told you how itchy a cast would be. Sighing, you threw the pencil to the ground and looked up at the planets circling overhead. With your arm broken, you would be out of training and fall behind on the physical aspect, which was a problem because your test was coming up.

Everything was falling apart. It was like you were trying to hold onto water, but it was slipping through your fingers. You felt out of control, and everything was your fault. You heard footsteps approaching before you saw them. It was Natasha. She had a piece of paper in her hand. “How’s adjusting to the cast?” she asked while sitting next to you.

“It’s itchy,” you grumbled. The Black Widow laughed and pushed some hair out of your face. “Is there something else you wanted to talk about?” Your eyes subconsciously looked at the papers in her hand.

“Are you having trouble at school?” The question caught you off guard and froze you at the very spot you were sitting at. “We got this in the mail,” Natasha handed it to you. If you need help, I’m sure Maria can put in a word for you.”

You snatched the paper out of her and read it over. According to the document, you were on the verge of failing out of the program. That was impossible. You failed one test. “Sweetheart,” your hands crumbled the paper. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“This has to be a mistake,” you whispered, handing it back to her. “A-a glitch in the system. I’ll talk to my professor tomorrow.”

“Do you want-?”

“No.” You cut her off and shook your head. “No, I can handle it.” The whole point was to do this on your own without their influence. For some reason, Natasha gave you a small smile. It looked sad.

“Okay, honey,” she kissed your forehead. Come get us if you need anything,” she squeezed your non-cast hand. Anything at all, okay?”

“Okay,” you promised. “Thanks, mama.” When she left with the paper in her hand, she gave you one final smile. You flopped onto your stomach, face buried in the pillow. One thing after another after another. It seemed like everything was piling up.

Sitting up suddenly, you closed the door and walked over to your dresser. At the bottom of your sock drawer, there was a small box. Once upon a time, it was a box that once held a pair of earrings from Yelena. Now, it held a darker secret: a small razor blade. The item only came out when the world around you became too much. You changed into shorts and slipped on one of Maria’s old sweatshirts. Opening the window in your room, you climbed onto the roof.

You discovered by accident that you could access the roof by your window. A few years back, the news reported a meteor shower, and you wanted to see it. So you opened the window and climbed onto the roof. You were grounded for a week, but the view was spectacular.

You sat in the middle of the roof and looked at the city. Some parts of Earth’s beauty made your decision to work at SABER difficult. Your parents were here, and you’d hate to be so far from them. But there were things on Earth that could not be replicated in space—memories of you living in the city. The lights and sounds of New York were unmatched. It was a one-of-a-kind experience. Some of your happiest memories and darkest traumas happened in this city.

The box felt heavy in your hands. Deep down, you feared it wouldn’t be enough. The pain wouldn’t stop the feeling of dread that consumed you. You were never going to be good enough, no matter how hard you tried. Why couldn’t you be better?

It would be so easy to walk off the roof. Oddly enough, that thought didn’t scare you. Your home was two stories. It was a 50-50 shot that the fall would kill you.

The night sky was beautiful. Everything felt poetic. But you remained frozen to the spot. Typical, you cursed; you were too chicken to kill yourself. “Sweetheart,” you jumped at Maria’s sudden voice. “Can I join you up there?” You stared at her, blinking a few times. It was hard to comprehend her sudden appearance with half of her body out of your bedroom window. “I can stay right here,” a beat of silence passed. “What are you doing up here?”

“I-” You weren’t sure how to answer her. How could you look at your mother and tell her you came up here to make yourself bleed? To maybe take a few steps and end it all. “I don’t know,” you settled on. Maria nodded.

“What is your favorite space phenomenon?” You were sure confusion was all over your face. “Come on, squirt, I know you know this answer.” You huffed and stared at the city instead of the sky above. Still, you saw her move to be entirely on the roof. She kept her distance.

“It’s called the magnetars,” you gave in. “It’s a type of neutron star with an insanely powerful magnetic field. These objects are born from a massive star explosion and have a quadrillion times stronger magnetic field than Earth.”

A small smile came to your face. “What makes them so intriguing is that they sometimes produce starquakes - sudden shifts in their crusts that release intense bursts of x-ray and gamma rays. Some magnetars have emitted flares so powerful that they briefly affected Earth’s atmosphere,” the smile you were once wearing faded. “Sometimes the things that happen in space are so extreme it’s hard to comprehend. It’s so complicated,” you continued. “It will take a lifetime to understand it.” During your monologue, Maria made her way over to you. Her leg was slightly touching yours. You were okay with the contact. “Sometimes I don’t think I’ll be good enough to reach it.”

“Is that why you came out here? To see the stars one last time,” your head snapped away from the city lights to look at your mom. She was already staring at you. There was no pity in her eyes but love.

“I—” but you couldn’t tell her that she was wrong when that very thought crossed your mind. When I get stuck in my head, I see myself in a tunnel,” you closed your eyes and imagined it. Everything I love and I want is on one end, and I’m on the other. No matter how hard I try or how fast I run, I can’t reach you.”

Those at the other end constantly changed. Sometimes, it was your biological parents, and you pleaded for them to come back until your throat was raw. Other times, it was your dreams of getting into SABER. Recently, it was Maria and Natasha. You wanted them to stay, but they would leave you in the dark. “I just want to be good enough for you and Mama so you don’t leave me.”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Maria hugged you. Your tears fell down your cheeks. Everything hurt. Each breath felt like you were inhaling shards of glass. Maria held on tighter to stop your body from shaking. “You will always be enough to me, your mam, and all your aunts and uncles.” She forced your chin up and whipped your tear-stained cheeks. “No matter what grade you get on a test or if you fall short of your goals, we will never leave you. You are our daughter. Now and forever.” You nodded and leaned back against her.

She was warm and safe and smelt like coffee, which you associate with home. A shiver went down your spine from the cold. “Come on. Let’s go back inside. Your mama is probably pacing a hole in your room.” She managed to make you smile. You nodded and allowed her to help you into your room.

Before you were settled on the ground, Natasha pulled you into a hug. “Gods, I knew we should have locked your window the first time we found you on the roof.” Maria laughed and closed the window behind you.

“There is no stopping this one from seeing the stars.”

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

“Of course, malen’kiy,” Natasha guided you to their bedroom with Maria behind you. Lilo was sleeping on the bed but jumped off when Natasha pulled back the covers for you, and you climbed in. With a smile, Natasha held out her hand for the box. You were too tired to argue, so you handed it over. “Sleep,” she whispered and sat on the edge of the bed. We will be right here.”

“Promise?” You asked and closed your eyes.

“Promise,” Maria repeated and joined on the other side. Natasha began to hum. A simple tune that helped you fall asleep when you first moved in with the couple. Like before, you fell right asleep.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Natasha kept humming until she knew you were asleep. “Did you tell her?” The Black Widow asked and opened the small box in her hands. She knew what would be in it, but it still took her breath away - a small razor. Oh, her sweet girl, you were hurting too much. How blind was she to it? Maria sighed, took the box, and set it on the side table.

“No,” Maria said. “She unloaded a lot. I didn’t think it was appropriate.” The letter from your school left an odd feeling inside Natasha’s stomach. The program was challenging, but you always excelled in it. At night, you would do your homework in the kitchen. Natasha thought you were studying a different language, but you loved it. Going against her word to not get involved, she and Maria dug into the program and found corruption. Jayce failed, and his family bribed your professor to keep him in. To make room, your professor purposely failed you. This meant Jayce breaking your arm was not an accident.

Natasha saw red. How dare someone hurt you because they were jealous or entitled? When Maria found your room empty and the window open, all her anger left. You were her priority. “I can’t lose her, Ria,” Natasha whispered, running her hand over your cast. “She is the best part of both of us.” Maria kissed your forehead, then kissed Natasha.

“We haven’t lost her,” Maria interlocked her hand with Natasha’s. “She’s right here. We will pull her off the edge.” The redhead brought Maria’s hand to her lips.

“What’s your favorite space phenomenon? " she asked her partner. Maria huffed and shook her head, but Natasha saw the corners of her lips turn up into a smile. They’ve been on so many sides of your rants about random space phenomena that they must have absorbed some of it.

“Probably galaxy mergers,” Maria answered. It’s when two galaxies drift close together. Their gravity pulls them into a dance until they merge into one.” Maria took a pause. Rather than chaos, these mergers often lead to new bursts of star formations.” Natasha smiled.

She liked that one too. It symbolized unity. Even in the vastness, things could come together. It was a reminder that even through turbulence, connection can lead to growth and beauty.

It was sound symbolism for the moment now. A lot was uncertain, but Natasha knew you would emerge from this turbulence brighter.

[perfectlyoongi]

HOW THEY LOOK AT YOU ⠀⠀summary: there is a mystical glow in a lover's eyes, and when he looks at you, it is the creation of the universe that beautifies his gaze.

⪩ pairing: seokjin, hoseok, taehyung x gn!reader. ⪩ genre: headcanons, fluff. ⪩ word count: 800k total, ~250 each.

SEOKJIN 𓏲 ִֶָ ๋ ᡣ𐭩 ⠀⠀as if butterflies could talk.

in a certain way, you were the bearer of all the charm that existed in this world. Jin was sure that there was nothing in this world that didn’t have your magic.

all the flowers created colorful carpets to support any fall you might take. the various melodies sung by the wind and embellished by the birds were just the soundtrack to all your adventures. rivers were created with your tears, grains of sand sprouted from your laughter. forests and mountains, stars and clouds – all that was beautiful, all that was life, all that was, was you.

when he looked at you, Jin could see an entire captivating future eager to be lived. lived by you. lived with you. everything that will be came from you – all life and all creation, all beauty and all magic. by looking at you, Jin finally managed to understand all the stories that ended in that ‘happily ever after’. there was love in the world. there was happiness in the world. Jin believed that, because you existed.

when looking at you it was impossible not to see all the celestial particles that made up the cosmos and made it so fascinating. when looking at you it was impossible not to feel that intense heat that not even the sun itself could provide.

and that was why Jin looked at you as if nature could communicate with him: enchanted by all your beauty, dazzled by all your magic. he looked at you as if he had received all the answers from our universe. Jin admired you. Jin was devoted to you. Jin was completely fascinated by you and your entire existence.

you were the reason for this entire cosmos – you were Jin’s deity.

HOSEOK 𓏲 ִֶָ ๋ ᡣ𐭩 ⠀⠀as if the universe was silent.

silence. rest. peace.

finally, in your presence, the entire universe was submerged in a vast sea of ​​pure and total tranquility. it was in the silence of your love that Hoseok felt himself floating in this sea, believing he was being guided to the most pleasurable details of life.

finally, nothing.

After years of being violently attacked by the most macabre sounds of humans and the cruelest sounds in the world, Hoseok finally had a calm, an emptiness, a vast and pleasurable paradise of pure silence.

in your presence, nothing else existed but Hoseok. the entire universe ceased to exist in your company. there was no sound or force that could steal Hoseok’s attention from you. any and all perverse attempts by the cosmos to expel you from Hoseok’s life were just futile, vain, useless. there was nothing to worry about when destiny itself had you and Hoseok entwined in a timeless thread that could transcend any reality.

Hoseok looked at you as if you were the bearer of all the words in the world.

an extensive amount of love songs were heard by Hoseok every time you spoke to him. sweet love poems were recited in every caress, in every smile, in every look exchanged between you and Hoseok. Hoseok looked at you like the moon looks at the vast universe: silent, hopeful, dreamy of what could lie beyond; a believer in what he was experiencing, a devotee of what he was feeling – someone in love with you.

TAEHYUNG 𓏲 ִֶָ ๋ ᡣ𐭩 ⠀⠀as if he was a student of the renaissance.

just as it is certain that the sun will rise tomorrow, it is also certain that small fragments of you could be found in Taehyung. a new mannerism, a lost word, an infectious smile, a shared nightmare.

nothing of who you were was alone – not when Taehyung was with you.

nothing of what you were was neglected – not when Taehyung promised you, swore to you, whispered to you, that everything about you would be part of him. today. tomorrow. in the future that was uncertain – always and eternally.

Taehyung’s eyes were deeply adorned with pure dedication every time he looked at you. perhaps because of the newness of that feeling. perhaps because of the intensity of that emotion. or perhaps because you were, quite simply, the only object of his desires.

no one could deny the veracity of Taehyung’s feelings for you. every look exchanged with Taehyung was filled with the intense glow of all the constellations of love that beautified the cosmos. every smile you threw was held by Taehyung’s heart with tremendous delicacy, to keep them always, and forever, close to him. Taehyung looked at you like a student looks at a more complex book – curiosity arose in Taehyung every time you entered the room. his attention was willingly given to you and you alone. and his devotion, oh!, his devotion was something familiar, something so natural that it made Taehyung believe he was created just to love you.

♡ feedback is appreciated ♡

[kxsagi]

sorry if im too much in your notification!!!:( but i had a request, an isage x reader where there stargazing or anything night themed and readers looks back at their relationship cause they have been together for long maybe 4-3 years? And thanks him for making her happy like randomly (maybe in tears of how happy maybe she is, got the idea of a game and I was almost in tears)?👀

Thank you before hand<3

“𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬”

a/n: i gotchu girlie 🤍 thank you as well for all of your lovely comments, you're so sweet and deserve this!

the two of you lay side by side on a blanket spread across the soft grass, the night sky stretching endlessly above. the stars shimmer like tiny lanterns, flickering in a silent rhythm only the universe understands. a gentle breeze rustles the leaves, but all you feel is the warmth of isagi’s hand wrapped around yours. 

“it's beautiful," you whisper, tilting your head toward him. his face is illuminated by the silver glow of the moon, eyes reflecting the constellations above. 

“not as beautiful as you," he says, squeezing your fingers lightly. the words are simple, but they carry the weight of three years' worth of love, of laughter, of quiet moments like these where words aren’t needed but still find their way out. 

you smile, cheeks warming despite the cool night air. "you always say things like that." 

“because they're true." his voice is steady, filled with certainty, as if the world itself could shift and crumble, but this fact would remain unshaken. 

for a while, the two of you just exist in the moment, listening to the rustling trees, feeling the steady rise and fall of each other’s breaths. then isagi lets go of your hand for a moment, rummaging through his bag. 

“i, um, i made something for you." 

curious, you push yourself up on your elbows as he pulls out a small, delicate jar. inside, tiny specks of glowing light swirl like captured stardust. fireflies. your breath catches as you watch them dance. 

“you told me once," he murmurs, placing the jar gently in your hands, "that you wished you could hold a piece of the night sky. i know it’s not quite that, but… i wanted to give you something close." 

your fingers tremble as you clutch the jar, eyes stinging with sudden emotion. the thoughtfulness, the care, the love, it's all too much in the best possible way. a lump rises in your throat, and before you can stop it, tears spill over, streaking warm paths down your cheeks. 

isagi’s expression shifts instantly, worry flickering in his eyes. "hey… what's wrong?" he reaches out, brushing away a tear with his thumb, his touch impossibly gentle. 

you laugh softly between quiet sobs, shaking your head. "nothing. just… i'm so happy. you make me so happy." 

relief washes over him, and a slow, tender smile spreads across his lips. he pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "good," he whispers against your skin. "because that's all i ever want – to make you happy." 

and under the endless sky, with his arms wrapped around you and a tiny jar of captured light in your hands, you realize that he has given you more than just happiness. he has given you a love that feels as vast and infinite as the stars themselves. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

a/n: is this too corny i fear

[moodygirlzz]

Showering with a Giant (Kayne And Val)

The water was already running when Kayne stepped into the shower, and Val sat in the small ceramic dish he’d designated for her—a makeshift seat nestled on the wide shelf built into the tile wall. It wasn’t exactly fancy, but it was hers, and she liked how it warmed from the steam.

Kayne moved slowly, like he always did when she was nearby. Careful. Conscious. His massive form took up the whole shower in a way that still made her breath catch if she looked too long. His head ducked under the spray, gold-blond hair darkening and clinging to his forehead as the water sluiced down over his back, across the vast stretch of his shoulders. He was like a mountain of mist

He was beautiful. In that quiet, unintentional way she didn’t think he’d ever understand.

From her spot, Val could see the planes of him—skin flushed slightly pink from the heat, water trailing down his spine in rivulets that disappeared into the dimples at the small of his back. His muscles flexed subtly when he moved, powerful but not showy. Just… real. Solid. He wasn’t posing, wasn’t trying to be anything but what he was: her sleepy, gentle, giant boy.

She stood up, crossing the shallow dip of her ceramic seat and stepping onto the edge. The heat rose around her like a fog, and she reached out toward him, brushing a wet strand of hair from her face.

“Kayne,” she called softly.

He turned, and just the movement of him—his chest shifting, his arms relaxing at his sides—was enough to create a gust of steam that curled around her.

He saw her and smiled, slow and fond, like she was the first light of morning.

“You okay over there?” he asked, voice warm and a little hoarse.

Val nodded. “You look big today.”

That made him blink. “Uh… I mean. I always look big to you.”

“True,” she said, grinning. “But you look extra big. Probably ‘cause you’re all wet and glowy.”

His cheeks turned a shade pinker than the shower steam could account for. “You’re not supposed to say things like that while I’m trying to be normal.”

She laughed, and he reached for her, cupping his hand beneath her so she could step onto his palm. She did, gladly, bare feet pressing into the wet heat of his skin as he lifted her carefully to his chest. She could see everything from here—his clavicle like a hill, the thud of his heart beneath skin that steamed gently with the heat.

“You’re like a whole landscape,” she murmured, brushing a hand across his collarbone. “I could get lost on you.”

He let out a soft breath, the sound curling in his throat like a low, unsure laugh. “You kind of already do.”

She leaned in and pressed a kiss to the hollow of his neck. “Only because I like the view.”

He stood there for a long time, just holding her under the shower’s warmth, water pouring down around them like rainfall. And in that moment, Val thought there was nowhere in the world safer, softer, or more impossibly hers than the curve of Kayne’s chest, the rise and fall of him under her feet, and the way he looked at her like she was something precious in a world he still didn’t quite know how to hold.

[pankowcrumbs]

The brothers I love X Tom and Mattheo Riddle part 1 (requested)

Reader x Mattheo Riddle and Reader X Tom Riddle

MasterList

Harry Potter Universe Masterlist

Story plot: what happens when I fall for my boyfriends brother.

Part 1 Part 2 Mattheo ending Tom Ending

Loving Mattheo Riddle was like embracing a storm. wild, unpredictable, and all-consuming. He was a force of nature, chaotic and reckless, yet I had fallen for him without hesitation. His laughter was infectious, his presence addictive, and when he looked at me with that mischievous glint in his eyes, it felt like I was the only person in the world.

So how had I ended up here, tangled in something I never saw coming?

It all started subtly.

Tom Riddle had always been an enigma to me. He was everything Mattheo wasn’t. calculated, composed, and impossibly intelligent. Unlike Mattheo, who thrived in chaos, Tom operated in silence, watching, analysing, understanding people before they even understood themselves. He unnerved me at first.

I never meant to get close to him.

But somehow, I did.

Maybe it was because of Mattheo. He was impulsive, easily distracted, always drawn into some fight or another. He had a way of vanishing into the night, pulled away by trouble, leaving me alone in the vast halls of Hogwarts. And in those moments, Tom was there.

At first, it was nothing more than passing conversations. Short remarks exchanged in the common room, an occasional comment about a book I was reading. He was never unkind, just distant. But the more time passed, the more he seemed to linger.

“Why do you spend so much time with him?” Tom had asked one evening as we sat across from each other in the library, both pretending to be engrossed in our studies.

I glanced up at him, furrowing my brows. “Mattheo?”

Tom nodded, his dark eyes locked onto mine.

I sighed, shutting my book. “Because I love him.”

Tom didn’t react right away. He leaned back slightly, considering my words as if weighing their meaning. “Love,” he mused, “is a peculiar thing.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t believe in it.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. “I believe it exists. I just fail to see its purpose.”

I shook my head. “That’s because you don’t let yourself feel it, Tom. You shut everyone out.”

His expression darkened for a moment, but then he tilted his head slightly, curiosity glinting in his gaze. “And yet, you talk to me.”

I didn’t have an answer for that.

Maybe it was because Tom had an unnerving way of making me feel like I was the most interesting person in the room. Maybe it was the way he listened, truly listened, as if he was dissecting my very soul. Whatever it was, it had drawn me in.

And that was my first mistake.

The shift was gradual. I started noticing the way Tom’s eyes lingered on me for just a second too long, the way his voice softened when he spoke to me, different from the sharp, cold tone he used with everyone else.

Then came the realisation.

Tom Riddle had fallen for me.

And suddenly, I was drowning.

I loved Mattheo. I did. But I couldn’t deny the bond I had formed with Tom. He had become someone I confided in, someone I trusted. And now, everything was unravelling.

I tried to ignore it, tried to act as if nothing had changed. But one night, Tom confronted me, and there was no escaping the truth anymore.

We were alone in the Astronomy Tower, the stars casting pale light over the cold stone walls. I had come up here for air, needing space from the tangled mess of emotions inside me.

Tom had followed.

“You’re avoiding me,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

I swallowed, keeping my gaze on the horizon. “I’m not.”

“You are.” He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat of his body. “Why?”

I exhaled shakily, closing my eyes for a moment. “Because you’re making this difficult.”

“This?” His voice was barely a whisper now.

I turned to face him, heart pounding. “Tom, you know what I mean.”

He held my gaze, searching for something in my eyes. “Tell me you don’t feel it too.”

I flinched. “Don’t do that.”

“Tell me.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Because I couldn’t lie to him.

His expression shifted, something like pain flickering across his usually unreadable face. “You love him,” he said finally, as if trying to convince himself.

“I do.” My voice was barely audible.

Tom took a slow breath, his jaw tightening. “And yet, you are here. With me.”

Guilt twisted in my chest. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“But it did.”

I shook my head, stepping back. “This. whatever this is. it can’t happen, Tom.”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Why not?”

I laughed, but it was hollow. “Because I’m with Mattheo. Because he loves me. Because I love him.”

Tom’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And yet, when you look at me, there’s something there.”

I had no answer to that.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. “I could give you everything, Y/N. You wouldn’t have to chase after someone who doesn’t prioritise you. I see you, in ways Mattheo never has.”

Tears burned at my eyes. “Stop.”

“Why? Because you know it’s true?”

I turned away, gripping the cold stone railing so tightly my knuckles turned white. “Because it doesn’t matter.”

Silence hung between us, heavy and suffocating.

Then, quietly, Tom said, “It matters to me.”

I closed my eyes, forcing back the tears. “I can’t, Tom. I can’t break his heart.”

Tom let out a bitter laugh. “But it’s alright if you break mine?”

I spun around, my chest aching. “That’s not fair.”

He shook his head, stepping back. “No. It isn’t.” His voice was sharp now, no longer soft. “But life rarely is.”

I watched as he turned to leave, his back rigid, his usual composure slipping just enough for me to see the hurt beneath it all.

And as I stood there alone, under the cold glow of the stars, I realised something.

I had fallen into something far more dangerous than I ever imagined.

And I had no idea how to fix it.

[nerdydaydreamer]

Chapter 10: Of Dreams and Deliverance

MASTERLIST

Summary: Plucked from her mundane life and thrust into a glass prison alongside the captured King of Dreams, Nora becomes an unlikely confidante and defiant voice in his silent torment. As a century blurs into freedom, she discovers her own impossible existence is inextricably linked to Morpheus himself, compelling them to face future challenges and rebuild his shattered realm, together.

Previous Chapter

~The Wisdom of a Captive~

Several more years passed, the world outside aging in ways they could only guess at. Their own world remained a ten-foot sphere of glass and quiet companionship.

Can you tell me about your family? Nora’s thought was soft, almost hesitant, as she looked up at him from her usual place, her head resting comfortably on his lap. His fingers, which had found their familiar rhythm over the years, never paused their gentle stroking through her hair.

He took a moment, not of reluctance, but to gather the eons of complicated history into something that could be understood by a mortal mind, no matter how clever.

We are seven, his thought began, the words imbued with a sense of ancient finality. But before us, there were our parents: Night and Time. They are endless in a way that we are not. Primal forces from which we were born.

He started with the eldest. First is Destiny. He is the oldest and most bound of us all. He is blind, and chained to the Book of Destiny, which contains all that was, is, and ever will be written within its pages. He does not cause things to happen; he is simply the record of them. He walks his garden, reading his book, and that is all.

Then there is Death. A different quality entered his thoughts, something warmer, closer. She is not what mortals fear. She is gentle. She meets all living things twice—once at the beginning, to welcome them to life, and once at the end. She was here, in this room, for Roderick Burgess. But the circle’s magic hid us from her sight.

After Death, there is myself. He offered no further explanation of his own role, as she had come to know it intimately.

Then come the younger ones. There is Destruction, though he is no longer among us. He is the prodigal, the one who abandoned his realm and his duties centuries ago. He saw what humanity would do with reason and fire and chose to no longer be a part of it. He believed in creation, not just its opposite.

And then there are the twins. His thoughts seemed to cool, a hint of old friction entering the connection. Desire is my… difficult sibling. They are beautiful and cruel, and embody every form of want and craving a mortal can feel. Desire delights in games, especially those played at the expense of others. Their twin is Despair. She is the queen of her own gray, misty realm, surrounded by rats and mirrors. She finds solace only in the utter misery of others, a sorrow so complete it leaves no room for anything else.

The youngest, he concluded, a note of sadness in his thoughts, is Delirium. She was not always so. Once, she was Delight. Something happened, long ago, that changed her. Now her thoughts are a flurry of scattered colors, her form shifts without notice, and her realm is a chaotic madness of fleeting ideas and forgotten questions. She is… difficult to speak with, but she is not cruel.

He finished, and the silence returned, now populated by the vast, strange shapes of his six siblings. His fingers continued their slow, steady path through Nora’s hair.

Wow, Nora thought, trying to imagine a family made of concepts and cosmic power. Do you see them often? She wondered to him.

The steady rhythm of his fingers stroking her hair was the only answer for a long moment. He seemed to be considering the very nature of the question.

Often is a mortal measurement of time, born of fleeting lives, his thought finally came. We do not gather for sport or sentiment. Our meetings are not… familial, in the way you would understand. We convene when our functions intersect, when a great event requires our assembly…

He paused, a different quality entering his thoughts, something like a weary memory. Although, Death would insist on a family dinner every couple of hundred years or so, for us to stay updated on each other’s affairs. Inevitably, those gatherings would end with Desire attempting to, as Death likes to put it, ‘ruffle my feathers’.

Another, heavier silence settled between them.

But no, Nora. Even with those rare occasions, we largely kept to our own realms. And for the last two decades, I have seen none of them. They do not know where I am.

Nora was quiet for a long time, absorbing the sheer scale of his family.

It has been years since I saw my own family, too. Before all this, she thought, a note of melancholy entering her mind. Not since I moved out after graduation. We are… different, in our own ways.

She processed his descriptions, her thoughts turning them over like stones in her hand. Your brother, Destiny… it sounds like a lonely existence, to only ever see what must be and never be surprised. And Death… people have her so wrong, don’t they? To think of her as a terror instead of a comfort.

Her mind settled on the prodigal. But it is Destruction I keep thinking about. You said he left because he believed in creation, not just its opposite… but did he never think that from destruction comes creation?

Her thoughts gathered momentum, forming a clear, passionate argument. Things need to be taken apart before they can be put together again, reformed. When a forest burns down, it is destroyed, yes. But from the ashes and the soil beneath, a new forest grows, stronger than before. Mountains do not simply appear; the ground must break and shift and destroy what was there to push them into the sky.

She looked up at him, her gaze intense even though her words were only in his mind. He left because he saw what humanity would become. More people, more greed, weapons more destructive than any before. But isn’t that why he is needed most? We need that controlling aspect. We need things to end, to be cleared away, so that other things can begin. By abandoning his post, he may be allowing for a greater ruin than any he could have presided over.

Morpheus froze, not just his body, but his entire being, caught by the weight of her argument. He replayed her thoughts in his mind: From destruction comes creation. Things must be taken apart before they can be put together again.

It was a perspective so fundamentally contrary to his brother’s grand, dramatic departure, yet so brutally, elementally true. Destruction had seen only the end of things, the pain and the ruin. He had not, perhaps, considered his role as a necessary clearing, a controlled burn to allow for new growth. He had seen himself as an agent of endings, not as a catalyst for beginnings.

Morpheus thought of the world he had left behind, of the rising tides of human ambition and the terrible new sciences of war they were creating. Had his brother’s absence allowed these things to fester, unchecked? By refusing to be the storm that clears the forest, had he simply allowed the rot to spread, the old trees to choke out the new life until the entire wood was diseased? It was a chilling thought. A necessary force, removed from the cosmic equation. The universe, like any system, requires balance. In his high-minded pity for humanity, his brother had unbalanced it.

The silence stretched, long and profound, before his thought finally returned to her, carrying a new quality of startling introspection.

Perhaps you are right, he projected, the thought slow and deliberate, heavy with the weight of a dawning realization. That is… a refreshing viewpoint on it. One I had not considered.

A moment of comfortable silence passes, the weight of their conversation about cosmic forces settling around them. Then, a new thought, lighter and more curious, bubbles up from Nora.

There’s another thing I’ve been wondering about, she projects, her mental voice tinged with a playful coyness. For quite some time, actually.

Morpheus looks down at her, his expression impassive, but he raises a single, dark eyebrow in question.

That’s all the prompting she needs. In a sudden movement that disrupts years of quiet stillness, Nora sits straight up, turning to face him fully. He seems a bit shocked at her abruptness, his hand that had been idly carding through her hair freezing in position just above where her head used to be.

I have been wondering for years now, she thinks to him, pausing to let the gravity of her next words sink in, a stark contrast to their silly nature. What your hair feels like.

She continues, her thoughts tumbling out now that the initial question is free. Honestly, it seems to defy gravity for one thing, but it also looks like incredibly fucking soft. Her focus turns inward for a second, her thoughts rambling to herself more than to him. Like, would my fingers even register it? Is your hair that soft?

She concludes her internal debate and looks back at Morpheus, only to see him staring at her with an expression of pure, unadulterated incredulity.

He slowly, carefully, projects his thought, as if handling a strange and delicate object. You… he pauses, processing. …want to touch my hair?

He continues to stare, his ancient, starlit eyes wide with disbelief. Nora simply looks back at him as if he is the sun, a brilliant, beaming smile spreading across her face, her expression a clear and joyful challenge, daring him to say no.

Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty please, Nora practically begged him, her mental voice full of an earnest, pleading whine. Her hands clasped together in front of her as if in prayer. Please. Put my curious little soul to rest.

Morpheus stared down at her, his ancient eyes watching her dramatic display. He let out a long, slow, internal sigh, the sound of millennia of patience being tested by this one, impossible mortal. He let the moment stretch, allowing her to stew in the very real possibility that he might say no, just to watch the hope and desperation war on her face. Finally, deciding she’d been tormented long enough, he gave a single, slow nod.

The resounding YES! that screeched through their mental link was so sharp and loud it almost made him flinch physically. Nora was practically vibrating with happiness, a pure, unfiltered wave of ecstatic joy flooding the connection between them.

From her upright position, she firmly patted her thighs.

All right, lay down, let’s go, come on, we haven’t got all day, she thought imperiously, her excitement making her forgetful. She paused, the flaw in her logic hitting her a second later. A giggle echoed in his mind. Okay, so just ignore that last part.

A long-suffering sigh, one that seemed to carry the weight of ages, echoed in Nora’s mind. But Morpheus acquiesced to her demand. He shifted, his movements fluid and graceful even in the confined space, and laid back, resting his head on her thighs. Once settled, he closed his eyes as if preparing himself for an ordeal.

Nora took a deep, steadying breath, a giddy excitement fluttering in her chest, and then released it. With a hand that trembled ever so slightly, she reached out and gently, tentatively, touched his hair. She slowly carded her fingers through the dark, chaotic strands just once before she gasped.

Holy shit, it’s so fucking soft, she thought, the words a silent, reverent explosion in her mind, meant for herself but shared with him nonetheless.

Of course, he heard every bit of it. In response, a low, resonant hum of pure contentment vibrated back through their mental link, a feeling more than a sound.

With the gentle, rhythmic feeling of Nora’s fingers carding through his hair, Morpheus slipped from simple relaxation into a deep, meditative rest, a deep stillness settling over him.

In the quiet of his mind, he felt her thought, soft as a whisper. Thank you.

Nora knew this wasn’t just about his hair feeling soft. This was an enormous show of trust, an act far more intimate for him than it would be for anyone else. She had learned over their long years together that casualness and intimacy were not the same for Morpheus. For a being so ancient, so powerful, and so profoundly alone, to willingly place himself in a position of such gentle vulnerability was a gesture more significant than a thousand conversations. Running her fingers through his hair was, to him, a heartfelt acceptance.

She understood this completely. A deep, quiet warmth spread through her chest, and she was touched, more than she could say, that Morpheus felt comfortable enough, safe enough, to allow her this.

-

Thank you so much for reading! As always, comments and feedback are appreciated! 🩷

Next Chapter

[bunji-enthusiast]

Can you write about Lancelot and fem read who’s a giant? She’s upset that she can’t be held by him like human girls and can’t really kiss him so when she finally does find a way to get a human form, she’s all over him constantly?

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

Sypnosis [As written in the request]

Character [Lancelot]

Note || Augh the painnn, luckily Lancelot figures out a way! The idea for the solution was kinda half-assed, my apologies.

The moon hung high over the vast plains, casting a soft, silver glow across the landscape. The gentle rustle of the wind through the trees barely broke the silence, as the world seemed to hold its breath in the cool night air. Beneath that quiet sky, however, you were anything but still.

Lancelot stood in front of you, hands on his hips, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. His golden hair ruffled slightly in the breeze, his magenta eyes narrowing as he looked up at you.

You, however, barely noticed. You were too focused on the aching loneliness in your heart—the weight of being a giant in love with someone so much smaller than you. You wanted to hold him. You wanted to kiss him, to feel his warmth against your skin. But it was impossible, wasn't it? He was so tiny compared to you. Even when he had grown taller, more defined in his youth, you had remained a towering figure.

It wasn’t that Lancelot didn’t care for you—far from it. He was kind, gentle, even flirtatious in his own way, but he was a human. He had a human form, human limitations. And you… well, you were a giant, cursed with a body that couldn’t interact with him the way you so desperately wanted.

"You're quiet tonight," Lancelot remarked, his voice breaking through your thoughts. "What's bothering you?"

You shook your head, your massive frame shifting, causing the ground to tremble slightly beneath your feet. You had grown used to the weight of your body, the way it stretched out, larger than life. But tonight, all you could think about was the gulf that lay between you and him.

“I just… I can’t stop thinking about it.” You sat down heavily, causing the earth to shake once more. “How can I ever be close to you, Lancelot? How can I love you when I can’t even hold you like other girls do? How can I kiss you when my lips are too high for you to reach?”

Lancelot took a step back, his eyes softening with understanding. But there was no easy way to fix this. No magic, no solution that could change the fact that you were a giant, and he was… well, not.

"I don't think I've ever heard you talk like this before," he said quietly. "But... I understand. I wish there was a way for us to be closer. I really do."

You looked down at him, your massive hand coming to rest on the ground beside him. “I know you do,” you murmured. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m always going to be this huge, and you're always going to be... you.”

Lancelot didn’t respond immediately, his gaze drifting toward the sky as though seeking some answer. But after a long pause, he walked toward you, a small but determined smile on his lips.

“There might be a way,” he said, his voice filled with quiet confidence.

Your heart skipped a beat. “A way? What do you mean?”

He lowered his voice. “It’s a spell I’ve been working on, a transformation spell. It’s not perfect, and I haven’t used it much, but I think it could give you a form more... human. One that would allow you to be with me the way you want. It would be temporary, but it might help.”

You blinked in disbelief. “You... you can do that for me?”

Lancelot nodded, determination flashing in his eyes. “For us, yes. If you want to try, we can.”

Without waiting for you to answer, he reached out, laying his hand gently on your towering arm. His fingers glowed with faint, golden light. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a surge of magic, the air around you rippled. You felt a sudden pull in your chest, a warmth that spread throughout your body, and before you knew it, the world around you seemed to shift.

You shrank. Slowly at first, then faster, until your body was compacted into a more familiar, human shape. It was still surreal. The ground was closer now, and you could breathe easier, your body lighter, no longer weighed down by your immense form.

When the light finally faded, you blinked a few times, adjusting to the world in this new, smaller body. Your clothes had changed to fit your human form, and you could see the faint traces of your former giant self in the gentle curve of your face and the length of your limbs. But everything felt different. More delicate. More… right.

You looked up, and there, standing in front of you, was Lancelot. His eyes were wide with wonder as he took in the sight of you, now standing at a height where he could reach out and touch you easily.

“Well?” you whispered, heart pounding in your chest.

Lancelot didn’t speak right away. Instead, his hand moved to gently brush a strand of your hair behind your ear. His touch was tender, like he had been waiting for this moment as long as you had.

Without a word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative even, as though neither of you wanted to break the spell. But when you responded, a deep, heartfelt sigh escaped you, and you pulled him closer, your arms wrapping around him as you finally held him—held him as you had always dreamed of.

Lancelot's hands were steady on your back, his warmth grounding you in this new reality. It wasn’t perfect, not yet. You were still figuring things out, still uncertain of the future. But in this moment, everything felt right. The way his lips moved against yours, the way his body fit so perfectly in your arms—it was everything you had ever wanted.

“I don’t ever want to let you go,” you murmured against his lips, breathless.

Lancelot chuckled softly, his voice low and warm. “Then don’t.”

And so, you didn’t. You held him close, pressing him against your chest, savoring the feeling of him in your arms as though you might never let him go. This was what you had longed for—the closeness, the love, the shared warmth between two souls that no distance, no size, no curse could keep apart.

For once, you felt like you truly belonged.

---

In the days that followed, you spent more time in your new human form. It allowed you to be closer to Lancelot in ways you had never thought possible. You walked beside him, laughed with him, and shared quiet moments beneath the stars. The world, for all its magic and dangers, felt a little smaller, a little more manageable when you were together.

But as the spell began to fade, you knew you would have to return to your giant form soon. It wasn’t permanent, after all. Yet, there was a part of you that no longer felt the ache of loneliness. You had shared a piece of your heart with him, and that would never change.

And when the time came for you to return to your towering form, Lancelot would still be there. Right by your side, as your love, your equal.

No curse could change that.

[scribescrawls]

Thinking about TFOne setting Skystar AU pre-Sentinel betrayal like many cycles before it happened, where Skystar are going through the steps of the Conjunx Ritus and Starscream’s Act of Profference (the step/act where you give the other a gift) is basically building a new home for them to live together. Not just buying/renting a new apartment in Iacon, but one made from the ground up or more accurately carved out of the natural rock stalactite, it’s still underground a little on the edge of the city but closest to the surface. And imagine the reason Starscream chooses this location to build their new home is because this specific stalactite has a natural ledge that at that angle when you look up even underground you can see the sky and stars. It’s their spot. The place they would sneak away to when they were still studying together to become scientists and continued going there when they became lab partners working together. A place where no one else could find them to stargaze and look out at the vast sky full of possibilities and late night discussions about new worlds just waiting to be explored. And even if Starscream is now leader of the High Guard and not a scientist anymore the ledge is still their spot they visit. Thinking about Starscream being very Extra about his gift cause he’s like ‘I’m going to make my gift so good that there’s no way Skyfire will back out of being my conjunx!’ (I’m pretty sure Starscream could just give him a cool looking rock and Skyfire would say yes to marrying him lol)

Now also imagine that he also hand-makes their new berth for their home himself, a large berth specifically made to fit someone of Skyfire’s size which has always been a hassle for Skyfire having to deal with finding one he fits in comfortably or often needing to duck to fit into doorways. But this new place is made specifically to fit his size in its entire construction meant to show how much thought was put into making this a comfortable home for the other. And okay maybe the berth was mostly made by himself with some help cause i think it's funny if Starscream goes 'I totally know how to do this on my own' and then it cuts to a scene that's basically when you're trying to horribly put together IKEA furniture, I'm just imagining Starscream going 'I've built a [insert complicated science thing here] before! A berth should be easy!". It was not, especially the fancy one he has in mind.

I like to think he goes to Solus Prime for help on how to construct the berth since she is known for forging and creating/building things so he's like 'I need an expert and also the best for my Sky pls help I've lost count of how many times I've injured myself trying'. And Solus is both amused and nostalgic because I like to think she built the berth her, Megatronus, and Prima share because finding a berth that fits all three is impossible unless it's custom made considering Solus and Prima are pretty big/tall already and Megatronus is HUGE so fitting all three in one berth means that thing needs to be very roomy and big (yes my ass ships all three together, noblefallenforge my beloveds lol). I also like to think that Solus definitely could have hired/commissioned someone to make a custom berth but she's like "but I could make a better one with my skills and this is for my conjunxes so it has to meet my incredibly high standards of construction" so chose to do it herself. Solus to Starscream going "I got you bestie don't worry. I understand the struggle of having an extremely tall and big conjunx lol". They bond over the amount of berths they've accidentally broken with their respective partners. So Solus guides him on how to build the berth he has in mind and it turns out beautifully. The berth's foundation is built directly into the very stone/stalactite that's reinforced through various methods that's supposed to symbolize their enduring love and solid foundation. The headboard of the berth has stars and constellations carved into it. And when you lay down on the berth, when you look out at the window directly positioned in front of it you can see the stars and skies above. The exact same view/spot from the ledge they used to sit at in their younger years and it’s their own little secret of why their berth is built in that location.

Post-Sentinel betrayal, the High Guard are presumed/declared dead along with the Primes. Now imagine Skyfire lying in their berth alone and looking out at the view from where he lays. He can still see the sky as usual, but he can no longer see the stars that are supposed to be there too. The view is technically the same, but it feels emptier because the star that matters most to him is missing and gone.

[breezyblossoms]

Y/N stood by the small viewport in the corner of the landing field, staring out at the vast expanse of space. The stars, once bright and full of promise, now felt like distant, indifferent pinpricks in the inky blackness. She could see nothing but the dark void stretching endlessly around her. Everything in her world had been consumed by that darkness, and it felt like it was slowly closing in.

It had been months since the mission had begun, and it wasn’t supposed to feel this way. They were supposed to be fighting for something, for a cause, for hope, for the future. But all she felt now was a heavy, all-consuming loneliness. The loneliness was different than the isolation she’d felt growing up. This was deeper. It was as though the universe itself had decided to swallow her whole.

A soft footstep behind her broke the silence, and she didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The feeling of his presence was so familiar now. Bodhi Durran. A man who had once radiated optimism and unwavering determination, now carrying his own set of burdens. They had both been changed by the endless stretches of the unknown.

“Y/N,” Bodhi’s voice was quieter than usual, like he wasn’t sure if speaking would break something that was already fragile.

Y/N turned slowly, meeting his eyes. There was a weight there, one that mirrored her own. They had both seen things in the last few months, horrors, loss, and moments where it felt like they were fighting a battle that could never be won.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Bodhi continued, stepping closer but not quite reaching her. He wanted to, but some invisible distance seemed to separate them. He was searching for something in her eyes that he didn’t understand, that he didn’t know how to give back.

She looked at him, her lips parting to say something, but the words seemed stuck. Instead, she simply shook her head and let out a slow breath. “I feel… so alone, Bodhi.”

His brow furrowed, and for a moment, his chest tightened, as though the weight of her words had hit him like a blow. He had known the feeling. He had lived with it for so long, ever since the day they set out on this impossible mission. But he never thought she felt the same. He had always been the one trying to hold things together, trying to convince her that the universe wasn’t as cold as it seemed.

“You’re not alone,” Bodhi said gently, his voice rough. He reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing against hers. “I’m right here.”

But the touch didn’t fill the emptiness inside of her. It didn’t chase away the isolation she felt, the emptiness that only seemed to grow the longer they were in space. The same isolation that had taken root in Bodhi’s heart, despite the way he always tried to protect her from it.

“I don’t know if this is enough anymore,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. “I don’t know if anything is enough.”

The tears were coming now, quiet but inevitable. She couldn’t hold them back anymore. Her emotions had been on the edge for so long, and Bodhi’s simple words, his touch, made everything overflow.

Bodhi didn’t know what to say. He could feel the same pain inside himself, the same growing distance between them. They had both lost so much already, and the longer they stayed out here, the more it seemed like they were drifting farther apart. He wanted to hold her, to make it all go away, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t know if it was even possible.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said, the sincerity clear in his voice. He took a step closer, his heart hammering in his chest as he moved closer, wanting to close the gap between them. “I don’t want you to feel alone.”

But even as he said the words, he felt the bitter truth hanging between them like an impenetrable wall. It wasn’t just the physical distance that separated them; it was the weight of everything they had been through, the unsaid things, the fears of a future that felt impossible to face.

Y/N wiped her eyes and tried to steady her breath. “I don’t know how to fight this anymore, Bodhi. I feel like I’m losing myself in this void.”

Bodhi reached out and gently cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. “You haven’t lost yourself. You’re still in there, Y/N. I know you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

But even with his hands on her, even with his words, Y/N couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that no one could ever truly understand. They were both lost, lost in the vastness of space, lost in the mission, lost in the isolation of their own hearts.

She leaned into his touch for a brief moment, her forehead resting against his. “I don’t know if I can keep pretending everything’s fine. I feel like I’m breaking.”

Bodhi’s grip tightened just slightly, his voice soft but firm. “We’ll fix this. Together. You and me. I swear.”

But deep inside, Y/N wasn’t sure if any promise could erase the loneliness she felt. The kind of loneliness that no one else could see, the kind that consumed her slowly until she wondered if she’d ever be able to find herself again.

And yet, as they stood together in the cold, empty space of the ship, there was a small flicker of hope. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Maybe, just maybe, they weren’t entirely alone. Maybe, even in the darkest moments, there was still a chance for them to find their way back to each other.

Bodhi whispered against her hair, the words soft but full of emotion. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N allowed herself to believe him.

[signanothername]

i'm so glad you made killer smart, as not a lot of people do that. also, i totally agree with you on the fact that nightmare is smart, but not smarter than killer.

I personally think nightmare only cared to study very specific subjects like history, theater, and especially botany and dendrology (the study of trees and plants)

also he isolated himself from all social interaction for 500 years, so he wouldn't even know how to carry on a proper conversation, and might defer to things he read in his books.

Thank youuuu <333

No like i shall forever die on the hill that Killer is the smartest in the entire gang even dhdhdhhd

Like all of them are smart to me in different ways but how the fandom makes Killer out to be a stupid bitch (and even sometimes make him act like a child) makes me wanna punch the wall

That’s why I take it upon myself to portray him as the clever bitch he truly is just like in canon <333333

And omg I absolutely love your Nightmare hc!! I absolutely especially adore the fact he’d be interested in studying botany and dendrology!! Like I always loved to think Nightmare has an emotional attachment to trees but I never really thought about him studying it as a field!! That’s honestly so fucking cool hell yaaaa!!!

To me I like to think he studies almost everything, he just loves to learn new things, as long as he gets to read a new book he’s up for it, that’s where I think Nightmare’s smarts lie, in his ability to store so much information in his head, and a vast knowledge of a variety of things and how to apply them in his daily routine that’s applicable to himself

But yeah socially?? No luck at all wheeze, like to be able to be strategically and socially intelligent you need to actually interact with the outside world, which Nightmare never does in his entire damn existence

Like to me Nightmare can be good at planning missions and whatnot IN THEORY, but I wholeheartedly believe he never does it alone without Killer in the picture, cause listen he might not be socially intelligent but he’d definitely realize how smart Killer is in such things, and Killer would be able to tell whether such plans can even be applied in the actual field and be put into practice/action, plus Killer would definitely know how to give ideas that can give them the element of surprise, Killer’s always been pretty unpredictable and I think that unpredictably has definitely taught him a few tricks, and like can we talk about his meta knowledge?????? *flashbacks to that one Core Frisk comic where Killer basically says some insane shit that’s literally impossible to know that even Nightmare questions it*

And no like “defer to things he read in his books” is so real shhzhxhhz, that’s how I think Nightmare lives on a daily basis, he just tries to apply his theoretical knowledge to the real world, but the thing is, no matter how much knowledge you hold, you won’t be truly good at something until you put it into actual practice, and that practice needs to be constant, Nightmare never carries any convos or even gets social with anyone, there’s no way he actually genuinely understands how to communicate with people xhxhhdh

Like any social intelligence Nightmare has to me is more associated with his fear of the world around him, his fear of becoming helpless/ defenseless again, so he might look out for anything that might pose a threat to him, but even then he’s still bad at understanding how to apply such knowledge in the real world

Anyway, Killer is just way smarter than Nightmare and the fandom needs to start acknowledging it 😔✌️✌️