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solar-wing · 1 year

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🦇 Surviving Damian: BatBro's Life 🎞️

I don't know why, but the way Damian turns to look at Dick in this clip has me rolling

🦇 🎞️ A/N → A continuation of my Batbro Headcanons with everyone's favorite little assassin, Damian. This is also inspired by this post from @batsiblingfun. This mixes in a lot of different elements from different DC shows and movies, but still all tie together. Conner x Reader along with Damian x Raven included. WARNINGS: None really. family fluff, minor threats of violence. You and Damian conspiring together. Bruce needs his lawyers. Mentions of trauma and therapy. Joker being Joker.

🦇🎞️ Summary → It's one thing to find out Bruce Wayne is your biological father. It's another thing to find out you also have a half-brother from the same father who also didn't meet him until around the same time you did. Now, some would consider getting a new older brother to be a good thing. Of course, when they point out what they see as an ideal image of that, Damian Wayne is more or less far from it. Truthfully, you'd need an entire documentary to explain that trauma. But, in his defense, he did warn Bruce not to make him a middle child. Oh well...

🦇🎞️ Word Count → 5.3k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

🦇 ENJOY 🎞️

— Some may imagine having Bruce Wayne as your father entails a glamorous and extravagant life.

— "Oh wow! Your dad is Bruce Wayne? That's so cool!" "I bet you've been to so many great places." "Have you met any celebrities before?" "Your life must be so interesting!"

— To answer that, depends on the day. The watchtower is cool, but not as interesting as what you saw on that one trip to Puerto Rico. Would Superman even be considered a celebrity? And, define interesting.

— Because if you mean 'interesting' like waking up every day wondering if it's going to be some random supervillain that unalives you, or your own brother, then yes, your life is fascinating.

— What most people don't consider when they find out your father is Bruce Wayne is not only did you all of a sudden get a new parent, but you also got new siblings. As your eldest brother Dick once said, "I went from being an only child to living in utter chaos every day." The only difference is that Dick actually somewhat thrives in chaos. Which is weird considering you'd think it'd be someone more like Jason who lived by that statement.

— You, on the other hand, would rather go without the constant weird shit that goes on with your father and siblings all being a bunch of vigilantes who save your city and the world from crazy clowns and guys who clearly like to live every day like it's Halloween.

— But, the thing is, 90% of the shit you have to deal with doesn't even come from those creeps and villains. It's literally from your own house, specifically one person.

— At one point in your life, you wished to have a sibling. Someone you could share that irreplaceable bond with. Fighting over small stuff like the remote, or who got first dibs on Alfred's cookies. Only to kiss and make up later when one of you got bored or hungry. Insulting and torturing each other only to join forces if someone outside of you two decided to mess with the other. Coming up with crazy schemes that would inevitably shorten your father's life expectancy.

— You know, normal stuff.

— You'd think Dick would get the title of 'most stable' among your siblings, but surprisingly, that was awarded to Jason, which, I know right?! Mind you, 'stable' was being used on very loose terms here. But, Richard was almost more like a second dad than a brother, which you figured came with the role of being the oldest sibling. Since he had the most experience dealing with an emotionally absent Bruce, he'd pick up where he fell off. Of course, Bruce got better over time and learned how to not distance himself whenever his feelings got even a little poked, but Richard was always your go-to whenever you needed support.

— You'd almost considered Jason for the title of most unstable, but then you met Tim, and realized Jason was actually better than you thought, considering what he's been through. Your second oldest brother wasn't really open towards you, but as you two started to spend time together, you grew on him and vice versa. At one point, the Red Hood persona vowed to not only do everything he could to keep you safe but as innocent and pure as you could be. He would not let Bruce and his questionable parenting ruin another child. His earlier methods were probably not the most effective. CPS was still calling at least once a week.

— There weren't enough words to describe Tim. When you first came to the mansion, he seemed completely normal and sane for the most part. Then, after you discovered your father's side hustle, you realized how opposite the reality was. You remembered something your mom said about the only things she was scared of. "I only fear two things in this life; God and the IRS." Well, you'd definitely be adding a certain Red Robin to that list. There were just things Tim would say or do that he thought was completely normal, and you'd be discreetly dialing a mental hospital, fearing for your safety. Why did you know the number for one off the top of your head? Let's just say you had your reasons. But, you'd rather have Tim as an ally than an enemy, so you refrained. That didn't stop you from keeping them on speed dial though.

— Yes, you definitely had some interesting siblings, but none of them compared to your other brother. The one you regrettably shared blood with. Hopefully, he didn't hear you say that.

— It was one thing to have Bruce Wayne as a father. It was an entirely different thing to have Damian Wayne for a brother.

— The first day you two met, Damian had already been at the manor for a few months when Talia had left him with Bruce while she went to handle business. What business that entailed, your father kept you in the shadows, and quite frankly, you were grateful. After your mom left you on the manor's doorsteps with a note that just read, "Trust me, he's yours," your life was never the same.

— You remembered being excited that day. You finally got to meet your dad, and you got a brother out of it too! Multiple brothers and sisters actually! Whoever was out there listening to you had answered your deepest wishes.

— Now, you wished they just minded their damn business.

— Unlike Damian, you were not aware of your father's secret identity. So, when you met, you were a little more than put off by Damian's first greeting towards you.

— "Father, I thought we discussed your habit of picking up street rats and turning them into your next apprentice."

— Truthfully, that was actually more than a pleasant start to your relationship with the trained assassin. When you eventually heard the story of how Dick and Damian "met" for the first time, you suddenly felt grateful at the fact there were no sharp objects nearby...that you knew of.

— If you happened to start locking your bedroom door at night and setting booby traps to alert you if anyone came in while you were sleeping, that was no one else's business but yours.

— The thing was, you tried to connect with Damian, but he would keep brushing you off. Bruce really wasn't that much help as he didn't have the best track record with his first three kids.

— The issue was you and Damian came from two completely different backgrounds, despite your shared parenthood.

— Damian was raised among an organization of highly-trained assassins and was molded from the second he was born to take over from his grandfather who was the equivalent of an undead lich, only he was actually alive. You had a normal childhood for the most part. You went to school, made friends, tried different hobbies, etc.

— You saw Damian as uptight and weird, and he saw you as naive and weak.

— Of course, as everything does in this family, shit only got more intense.

— After Bruce ran a DNA test and confirmed you were indeed his son, they got you set up in the manor and your new life. Your last name was officially changed to Wayne with you wanting to keep your mother's surname hyphenated in there.

— You wanted to decorate your bedroom, so you asked your dad to take you shopping, fully intending to take advantage of your newfound wealth (your mother taught you well). Bruce figured it'd be a great way for you and him to get to know each other as he was trying to be more of the supportive dad that Dick and Jason lectured him about. And if CPS decided to give him another one of their 'visits,' he'd rather not provide them with any more reasons to be taking down notes. He was still trying to find a way to punish Jason for that stunt.

— And at Alfred's suggestion, he brought Damian along, thinking it'd be great family time for the Wayne men, and it'd give his firstborn a chance at being an actual kid since Damian never decorated his room when he first got there.

— You went all out. At some point, Bruce wondered if everything he was buying was starting to become too much, but you threw him the puppy dog look you mastered at three years old, and he folded like a lawn chair. Your mother had grown resistant to that trick so, it was great to finally be using it again. Posters, knick-knacks, a new desk, a whole gaming set-up, LED lights, a gaming chair, you name it, you got it. You'd even tried to get Damian to get a few things for himself, wanting to get to know more about your brother.

— "I don't need materialistic objects to satisfy myself like you and other low-lives do. Besides, you're only doing this to 'make up' for the more than likely poor life you lived before with whoever your harlot mother is."

— Alright, that did it. You tackled Damian in the middle of the mall, throwing all your weight on top of him. Of course, you were unaware of his combat training so he threw you off pretty easily, pushing you to the ground and twisting your arm behind your back to where he almost broke it. Bruce had to yank him off you and grab you as well to prevent you from charging him again while everyone else around was taking pictures and videos.

— Bruce's PR team was not happy with the stories and articles on the gossip websites the next morning. But, they managed to twist it around into a positive light, painting the Billionaire Playboy as the role model male, doing his best to raise his two boys as best he could being a single father.

— "Oh, he's such a family man. #EvenMoreAttactive". – @Supermom92

— "He's a good man, Vanessa. A good man." - @mooreswhore

— "This is what we need more of. Strong men taking charge in their son's lives." – @topalpha

— "#GladTheyAin'tMyKids." – @aynonymous

— Of course, this did nothing to help the relationship between you and the youngest Boy Wonder, but Alfred's reassurance eased Bruce's headache.

— "Truthfully, Master Wayne, it would seem to me they are already falling quite well into their new roles as brothers. It will get better over time."

— When exactly was better? Because things only seemed to get more tense between you two. The fights didn't end there. As you spent more time in the manor, you'd gotten to know your other adoptive siblings. And particularly, spending time with your second oldest brother, you'd learned some defensive moves in fighting that only led to your fights with Damian getting worse now that you could hold your own a little more.

— Only there were some moves that you knew that Damian didn't, which really caused a shit storm.

— It may have taken Dick and Jason's combined strength to hold Damian back from trying to literally slice your throat open after you introduced him to the art of the cheese neck. Jason thought it was hilarious and low-key well deserved since your half-brother decided to cut open one of the stuffed bears you had since you were four. Alfred was able to put him back together, but that didn't help the need for revenge you had in the pit of your stomach.

— Since he couldn't murder you, he decided to go with the next best thing he had in mind; mental torture!

— He knew you loved Scooby-Doo, but had a slight fear of some of the monsters and scenes from the show. Look, shit from back in the 70s could be creepy with how they decided to do specific stuff. And sadly on your part, Damian had amazing resources thanks to dear old Papa Bruce.

— So, one day when you thought Bruce was on a business trip (he was on a League mission, and Dick, Jason, and Tim were nowhere to be found along with Alfred), you had the manor to yourself. Or, at least, you thought you did.

— Let's just say Damian decided to place you in your own Scooby-Doo episode, only a tad bit more rated R. Last time you checked, the vampire from that one episode didn't actually have blood and guts dripping from his teeth while chasing Shaggy and Scooby.

— Yeah, Bruce low-key had to invest in a therapist for that one. And CPS definitely took a note down when they saw part of the costume had fallen out of a trash bag and your "concerning" reaction to it. Damian had no shame.

— "Next time, he'll think twice about whose neck he's slapping."

— "Master Bruce, I really do think they're starting to grow on each other, if I do say so myself." This time, Alfred's words were not reassuring for the billionaire.

— Eventually, you and Damian came to a mutual understanding. You stay out of his way, and he would stay out of your way. And it worked! At least until you found out the big secret, and no not the one where Tim...actually, never mind.

— It was an accident, really it was. At least that's how Jason and Tim tried to spin it when he had to explain to Bruce how you thought Red Hood and Red Robin broke into the manor. In truth, they thought you were at a friend's house studying, and the tracker that was stitched to your backpack showed that.

— Hold up... tracker?

— You'd grill them and your dad for that later.

— Now, you were constantly in the Batcave and working Damian's last nerve. You kept asking to help on missions or patrol, and shockingly, this was the one time when Bruce put his foot down and said no to having an adolescent child fighting crime with him.

— Who would've figured?

— The most he'd let you do was help Alfred with comms and computer stuff. Of course, that'd only lead to you and Damian getting into one of your brotherly spats over the comms.

— "At least I have competent training to be in the field. You can barely defend yourself against a cat." Damian sneered into his mic while roundhouse-kicking a thug.

— "First of all you stuck-up brat, Alfred the Cat and I have a lovely relationship and we were play fighting. Secondly, the only thing you're competent at is proving what happens when you forget to use protection!" You quipped right back.

— Dick and Tim tried holding back their laughs while Jason just shouted "DAMN!" Bruce had to pretend not to notice Damian's glare through the domino mask and Alfred pretended to scold you while giving you a fist bump. The Boy Wonder was grinding his teeth.

— Then, a miracle happened. Well, really it was a traumatic experience that Bruce would have to pay for more sessions with your therapist but still was a miracle in the end.

— In another one of his crazy schemes, Joker decided to target Bruce Wayne again, but this time, the newly discovered heirs to Wayne Enterprises, at least, that's what the media was referring to you as.

— He hired some goons to abduct you and Damian from your school and hid you both in one of his many secret hideouts around Gotham. And Joker, never one for subtlety, of course, decided to send out a televised message to Brucie Poosie, a name disturbingly similar to Joker's nickname for Batman. He'd addressed that later.

— Your father and siblings immediately jumped into action of course and started searching the entire city, checking all of Joker's known hideouts and connections. Only, Joker had apparently taken some inspiration and notes from Riddler because while he was busy taunting and trying to shake down Bruce Wayne for everything he could, he was leading Batman and his little birdies (his nickname for all the Robins) on a wild goose chase.

— The more and more time went by, the more and more they got worried for you. Of course, they were worried for Damian as well, but he was used to these kinds of situations. This was your first (and frankly, probably not last) kidnapping.

— At first, you weren't scared (much). No offense, but, Joker always kind of seemed like a joke to you. The fact his whole persona was based on a mad clown really didn't help. You had also never really watched the news or heard people talking about some of the horrible things he had done. You always just heard the part when Batman swooped in and kicked his ass.

— Well, if you made it out of this, you'd definitely have nightmares and a new fear of clowns to add to your list. May have to start considering two-hour sessions with your therapist.

— But, to your surprise, Damian had helped to keep you calm and protected you from seeing more of Joker's 'fun side'. Whenever the clown or one of his thugs got a little too close to your holding cell for your brother's liking, he always placed himself in front of you, just in case they decided to fuck around and find out so he could be ready.

— When the green-haired villain went on one of his disturbing tangents or talked about his plans for you two in case your father didn't follow through with his demands, Damian would cover your ears. Of course, it didn't do much, but the sentiment was appreciated. Your older brother, despite his 'quirks', actually did have a caring side to him. It just took being kidnapped by a psychotic clown and your lives being in terrible danger for it to show. Go figure.

— Of course, your father and siblings eventually tracked you and Damian down and came to your rescue. From what you had seen from your father and brothers in their fighting style, they always were more smart and sneaky with their attacks and ambushes. Jason was more of the impulsive and brash one who liked to rush in, but he grew more into the Bat's style over time. Especially seeing how the last time he rushed into something concerning the Joker, well, there's no need to go down that road.

— But, nope. This time, Bruce was not forgiving with his 'justice' towards Joker. Honestly, you and your siblings were a little worried that Bruce would break his number one rule on no killing for the first time, but he still held back. In the middle of all the chaos, you'd even managed to surprise Damian when some goons tried to surprise you and him after he broke you guys out of the cell. And who said video games couldn't teach you a thing or two about fighting?

— Damian was impressed, and more than curious to see what kind of games you were playing that taught you the fastest way to incapacitate a 200-pound man with a few jabs and well-placed strikes. That or you were insanely lucky to have a man who could barely defend himself against a child. Either way, a win was a win for you.

— Obviously, things changed a bit when you two returned home.

— For one, your family became a lot more clingy and overprotective than before. And that was saying something considering they had a tracker stitched into your backpack without your knowledge before. There was a rotation between the brothers of who would drop off and pick you up from school. This was already a rule before, but now, it was just even more intense with you not being able to leave the manor or go anywhere without someone from the family accompanying you. Bruce started training you in self-defense and combat, with regulations and supervision from your brothers so he didn't make the same mistakes he made with them with you.

— You appreciated it all, and it definitely did help you feel a bit safer (in the beginning), but, really one of the most shocking changes not just to yourself, but everyone else was Damian's change in attitude toward you. Of course, he wasn't outright hugging you or anything crazy like that, but he was more cordial and almost friendlier you could say.

— It was also very apparent Damian had developed a similar protective stance toward you. You being the only non-vigilante in the family meant you kept an aura of innocence and light-heartedness the rest of your family had lost a long time ago. They were more than determined to make sure you kept that light and never lost it like they did so many years ago.

— Thankfully, your time with Joker wasn't anything too traumatic. Joker was actually on one of his schemes for once and didn't do anything too drastic. But, that didn't stop your brother from glaring down any suspicious figure who got too close to you for his liking. If you asked to hang out at a friend's house, Damian took over Bruce's role of asking for details on your friend, they're parents, where you'd be going, and all that extra stuff. If you were aware of the fact that Damian was running full background checks on your friends and their families whenever you went to hang out with them, you pretended not to notice.

– Bruce also had a teary moment of being a proud father seeing how Damian was showing already to be just like him. Which, if we're being honest, was actually a terrifying thought.

— But, it wasn't just Damian who started making an effort to build a more friendly bond between you two. You'd contributed as well. Showing Damian the ways he could learn to let loose and actually be a kid instead of a trained assassin all the time.

— You'd invited him more than once to hang out with you and your friends that you made from school. Hesitant at first at the idea of hanging out with others that weren't you and his family, you managed to convince him when Dick, Jason, and Tim got into one of their own brotherly spats, and Jason decided to start chasing the two around the house with a rag wet with a 'mysterious' substance.

— "Your local comrades quarters it is then." Damian muttered before quickly ushering you out the door with Alfred towing behind since you needed someone to drive you. Damian offered since he kept claiming he knew how, but Bruce still wasn't going for it.

— With your help, Damian actually learned to make friends with kids his own age. He developed hobbies and interests that had nothing to do with anything sharp or pointy (that didn't mean you weren't gonna booby trap your room still just in case).

— He even joined an art club at school and you both decided to enroll in a martial arts club together as well. It'd actually become quite the inside joke between you two. There was one guy in there, Carter, who swore he was the best fighter in the entire school and he could take any one of these 'runts' down, including you and Damian.

— Now, you were still learning and getting comfortable fighting from your lessons with your dad and brothers. When Carter decided to pick on you and Damian as the Wayne brats and challenged you both to a sparring match, boy he did not know what he was getting himself into. Especially when you and your brother looked at each other with the most mischievous evil smirks anyone had ever seen.

— When Bruce got a call from the school later that some parents were looking to try and sue him for the 'extensive harm' his kids did to their kid, he could only raise an eyebrow when you and Damian appeared in his office, smiling like you both were innocent angels.

— "See, Master Bruce. I told you if you'd given it some time, they'd grow on each other." Alfred said to him later that evening.

— Only Bruce was now more concerned than ever. When you and Damian basically hated each other, he only had to worry about the terror and havoc you two would unleash inside the manor. Now, that you were basically best buddies, he'd have to worry about inside and outside the house.

— "I'm gonna be meeting with my lawyers more frequently, aren't I Alfred?" Bruce asked.

— Alfred gave a small chuckle as he patted the man's shoulders. "Oh, Master Bruce, most certainly."

— The butler wasn't wrong.

— You and Damian became like a force that everyone was scared to cross. Even your own brothers were slightly afraid of the kind of shit you two could get into. You'd come up with the crazy schemes and ideas, mapping out any and all details while handling any technological stuff which you had gotten really good at considering the time you spent with Alfred in the Batcave monitoring missions. And, Damian would do the more physical acts required as well as sneaking and sleuthing around if need be.

— Bruce had a meeting with his attorneys at least once a week because of you two.

— You'd even developed your own sense of overprotectiveness over your older brother. Some guy in the art club Damian had joined at school decided to try and pick with him and messed up one of his paintings. Surprisingly, Damian was calm about it and didn't even yell or react at him. Just scoffed at the guy and called him pathetic.

— You did not have a similar reaction.

— When word got around the school and managed to reach your ears, you were for lack of a better word, feeling quite revengeful. The next day at school, that guy became the laughingstock of your entire class when a private photo mysteriously made its way into every student's locker in your grade.

— When Damian found out, he immediately confronted you about it, and you could only smile innocently while feigning ignorance.

— "Why, brother?! How could you even think to accuse me of such a vile act of one's breach of privacy."

— "Y/N..." Damian said.

— "Fine, it was me. But, you have to admit, it is quite a lovely picture. And besides, nobody messes with my brother except me." You smiled.

— Damian only gave a small smile, grabbing you to give you a noogie on the head before walking for the exit of the school to head home. He tried not to let such a small statement get him overly emotional since he'd never really had anyone before you and your family be so caring and defensive over him. Not even his mother.

— The older you two got, the more close you became. At one point, Dick even started to joke that if one of you had gotten involved in some stupid and even dangerous plot, it wouldn't be long before the other got involved as well.

— "You'd even given yourself the nickname of the Blood Brothers since you and Damian liked to remind your other siblings more than once who Bruce's actual kin was, especially Dick whenever he went on one of his tirades about being the first Robin blah blah blah...

— Tim did happen to point out your chosen name's disturbing similarity to one widely known supervillain to which you scoffed in response.

— "Oh please, Brother Blood wishes he had half the brains and looks me and Dami have. Isn't that right, bro?" You said turning to Damian holding out a fist bump.

— "I refuse to get involved in this."

— And given your bond with each other, it was of course all too expected that you would each get involved in each other's love lives. When Damian was sent away to Titans Tower to learn how to be part of a team, you were very pissed at Bruce since he was breaking up you and his team.

— Honestly, Bruce hadn't even considered that, but he was happy and looking forward to the much-needed break from his weekly meetings with his lawyers concerning his sons and their growing stack of attempted lawsuits.

— It was a shock to not only you but to Damian from how you knew when he returned from the tower on a visit, and you asked "Who is she," with your arms crossed and tapping your foot against the ground.

— From your daily calls and messages, you'd picked up quite fast that Damian was crushing on someone, you just didn't know who. You figured it may have been that Tara girl you heard had joined the team, who should consider herself lucky she succumbed to her own fate and not the one you'd planned for her after finding out what she did to your brother and his comrades.

— Superman and Wonder Woman were still campaigning to put you on the League's high-priority watch list after hearing and witnessing some of the things you got up to with and without your brother. So they and everyone else in the League who had the fortune (or misfortune) of meeting you had no qualms that whatever you planned for the blonde earth-powered girl, was nothing short of maniacal.

— When you found out it was Raven after your dad brought you along to Damian's surprise party at the Tower with the rest of the team, you managed to get a chance alone with the half-human, half-demon girl, exchanging some friendly banter and humor. You'd also jokingly (but also not jokingly) warned her that if she hurt your brother in any way shape or form, you'd give her a fate worse than anything her father could ever imagine.

— Weirdly enough, she smiled and gave you a pat on the shoulder.

— "I promise, you don't have to worry about anything from me. And, I can see now why he cares a lot about you. You both protect each other."

— To which you replied with a simple, "He's my brother." Nothing else needed to be said between the two of you. You both were aware of Damian's past, you more than Raven of course, so you knew Damian sometimes needed some extra care and love. You could clearly see that was something she had every intention of making sure he got.

— You approved.

— Now, if only you could get Damian to approve of you and Conner.

— Let's just say, neither your father nor your brothers were anywhere near please when they found out about you and the half-Kryptonian's relationship.

— Dick just couldn't fathom that both of his baby brothers were dating someone from the two teams he helped co-found.

— Jason didn't like that you were dating someone he couldn't really intimidate or threaten the way he wanted since the dude was a literal teen Superman.

— Tim was oddly okay with it at first. But, when you started abandoning him and your regular scheduled gaming sessions for your dates and hangouts with Conner, he was more than ever determined to take down the half-Kryptonian.

— Damian didn't like the idea of you with someone so much stronger than you and could hurt you very easily. To which you pointed out he was dating a half-demon whose father has more than once tried to take over the universe and she almost helped him in succeeding.

— "Not the point, little brother."

— You did have to warn your boyfriend though, because, unlike your other brothers with the exception of possibly Tim, Damian had his own hidden secret cache of Kryptonite for emergency if it was ever needed.

— How you knew?

— Well, after you and Conner announced your relationship, you noticed your father and brother consistently making trips to the vault where all the Kryptonite was stored. And, you once caught your dad making a smaller version of the 'special' jewelry he used to fight Superman that one time, which you figured had to be for Damian.

— "Oh come on! I don't see anyone walking around with crosses and holy water whenever Damian goes out with Raven. But, y'all are ready to pull out all the stops whenever Conner and I even look like we're about to hug!" You yelled at your family.

— Damian stepped forward, placing what was supposed to be a comforting hand on your shoulder.

— "I do apologize brother. But, you should really be blaming Father for this, since I did technically warn him what would happen if he made me a middle child.

— "He did." You heard your father's day from behind.

— Someone really needed to make a documentary about your life.

BONUS:

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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lover-of-skellies · 6 months

Text

Rambles about heavy subjects under the cut

So uhhhhhh

I never thought I'd have to make a post like this, because it just feels weird and I'm not sure what to do or how to phrase things, but

My grandpa died yesterday. I wasn't there when my mom received the call from the hospital, I just heard about it from my sister. My sister and I were never really all that close with him because of some issues within the family, and our mom wasn't too close with him for a while either, but she'd made amends with him. She'd go see him, pick him up for holiday dinners and gatherings so he could be with us and be a part of the family again, and then she'd take him home. He was a diabetic, so she'd even taken on reminding him to take his meds and things, whenever he was with us. I can't tell you how many times she went to the little bar where he liked to go sing karaoke every Tuesday night (I believe. I think it was Tuesday, but it could've been another day of the week, too)

Even though my sister and I weren't really ever close with him, he meant practically the world to our mom. She's been talking to some people, since he didn't have a will or anything written up. His passing was sudden and unexpected, so now everyone's scrambling to figure out the details for what to do with him

We don't have a lot of money. Sometimes it's hard scraping by, as is. My mom works at a hospital, my sister started working at a pet store, and I'm fighting with the social security people to try getting disability. I've been denied probably 3 times already, but I'm still trying my hardest to get through to them

The cheapest option for funeral stuff for my grandpa is cremation, but even then, that's $3000. We don't have that kind of money. His girlfriend's pastor chipped in maybe $500, I think, but beyond that, I'm not sure. I feel like I need to do something to help this situation, since my mom absolutely doesn't need this financial issue on her shoulders. She has a lot to worry about already as things currently stand, and I feel bad that I can't do more for her, but. All I can do is this. Making a post, rambling about the situation, and maybe asking if people could consider donating a little to my Ko-Fi

Donations would help a lot tbh, and I think my current donation goal was set to like... $200 - $250, something like that, but. It's a start. There are some things in my shop you can buy, I'm gonna try to add more soon, and I have commissions open, even though I haven't drawn in ages

I feel really icky about doing this and asking for donations, because I know that for a lot of us, money is tight, and I understand that things aren't cheap anymore. $300 used to get you a heaping cart of groceries that'd last a while, but now, it barely covers enough to last 2 weeks

I.... don't really know how to finish this post off, or how to properly close it, so. Again, donations would be greatly appreciated and it'd help a lot, and I'd be so, so grateful for every cent of it. It's not an obligatory thing by any means. You don't HAVE to donate, and if you can't afford to, I completely understand

#not skeleton stuff #rambles #tw death #tw family death #tw financial issues #tw money issues #tw vent #some shit happened #and we can't afford it #so #here i am #making one of these posts and giving myself a stress headache

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lovries · 2 years

Text

COULD YOU STAY WITH ME? (pt. 2)

featuring. the dateables (diavolo, barbatos, simeon, solomon). (the brothers version)

summary. you find it hard to sleep at night after a traumatic incident at RAD, you don't really want to be alone tonight, and quite frankly they don't want you to be either.

warning. gn! reader, sharing a bed/sleeping together (nonsexual), hurt/comfort, using these prompts.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── DIAVOLO

Despite what many think, Diavolo is incredibly observant of you and everything that goes on in the Devildom. The incident from earlier had been relayed to him from Barbatos, hearing of the demon who attacked you. Naturally, Diavolo had Barbatos deal with them whilst he invited you over to check on you.

"Are you doing okay?" He asked, watching you with careful eyes. He was monitoring you, watching over you like a hawk. You hesitated, still shaken from the incident. In fact, you were still trembling from it. It broke his heart.

"I've been better," You chuckle humorlessly. Honestly, when you closed your eyes, you could vividly see the scenes the demon threatened, making your stomach drop. You weren't sure how you were going to sleep that night.

"..." Diavolo is silent for a few minutes, whilst you struggle with your thoughts. "I know this might sound weird but... do you want to stay over? I guess 'sleepover' sounds kind of childish but I think it'd be good."

He didn't miss the way you froze.

Would it be okay to stay over at the castle? Under the protection of Diavolo? You're certain Lucifer would have a fit over it, but Lucifer isn't important right now. You smile genuinely, and nod.

"Yeah, I'd like that, actually."

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── BARBATOS

After hearing of what happened, Diavolo offered to let you stay in the castle as it was the most protected place in all of Devildom, and you agreed, only you were still having a hard time sleeping.

Wandering the halls, you're certain you're lost, but it's better than the nightmare that you face when you close your eyes. You stare at a certain painting that caught your eye, when Barbatos found you.

Barbatos frowned, approaching you. "Y/n? What are you doing up? Did you get lost on your way to the bathroom?" He teases, but you just stare at him blankly— it makes him feel weird inside; he feels the need to protect you fiercely.

"Y/n..." He says softly, "do you want to stay with me tonight?"

If you weren't so exhausted, you were sure your face would be as warm as a well lit fire. You nod, and let Barbatos lead you back to your room. He tucks you back into bed, and then lays beside you, although over the blankets.

"You can get under the covers, I don't mind." You whisper, and Barbatos chuckles but obliges, slipping under the covers if only to appease you. He hums a tune, a lullaby, it's enchanting and slowly working you to sleep.

It isn't long until you're fast asleep, with no nightmares in sight— still, Barbatos stays with you the whole night. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, "Sleep well."

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── SIMEON

Simeon came over to check on you. A damn Devildom creature got lose, and attacked you. It had been two days, he thought giving you space might be helpful, so as to not be too overwhelmed, but seeing the state you were in he wished he would've arrived sooner.

Dark circles under your eyes, your cheeks gaunt. Your usual happy smile replaced with an exhausted expression. "Simeon?" Yet hope filled your eyes at the angel, and it only served to make him feel even guiltier for not coming the day it happened.

He stayed with you the entire day, the both of you watching movies, reading books, you helping him learn something new about his D.D.D., and other such activities. It was soon growing later into the night, and he thought he should return to Luke and Solomon.

"I'll be leaving now," He says, his voice quiet, but you looked panicked at his words.

"No, no, please," You clutched on to him, "Please don't go— I need, I need someone— I need you." You sobbed, not ready to be alone with your nightmares. Simeon felt sick to the stomach, he shouldn't have let you go through this alone, he should've came earlier. He held on to you just as tightly.

"Okay," Simeon whispers, petting your hair. "Okay, I'll stay. Just let me text Luke, and Solomon." The way you relaxed almost instantly at his confirmation made him feel better. He sighed a breath of relief, and pulled away from you, cupping your cheek. You nuzzled into the warmth, eyes fluttered shut.

If he could lift the burden of your sorrows, even if just by a little, he'd do whatever he had to.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── SOLOMON

Solomon showed up at your door with what appeared to be a sheepish smile. He knew, of course he did, he had been there when it happened. A demon attacked you, luckily he managed to stop them before they did any physical damage but as for mental...

"Sol? What are you doing here?" You narrow your eyes at him in suspicion, and he chuckles, putting his hands up in defense as he pushes past you into your room.

"I'm not expecting anything, I just... I thought it'd be nice to keep you company tonight." You look over him. Was this the Solomon you knew? For him to be so kind without some ulterior motive... You were still skeptical, but knowing you'd have another night filled with nightmares you'd gladly take the company.

"Fine. But you're sleeping on the floor." He hums, a mischievous grin on his features.

"But of course, I'm a gentleman after all." You roll your eyes. Gentleman? Yeah right— the amount of times he's tried using you as a test subject prove otherwise.

"Can I at least get a blanket? A pillow?" You huff as you crawl back into bed, looking at where he sits on the ground, batting his eyelashes in a seductive manner.

"Should've brought your own." You say, before turning off the lights. However, a few minutes later, a pillow is thrown atop his face, a blanket following shortly after.

"Thank you~" You could basically hear the smug grin he had, and if it wasn't for his presences bringing you some peace, you'd kick him out of your room.

"Just go to sleep already."

﹙ thank you for reading! have a wonderful day! ﹚

#obey me x reader #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #om x reader #om imagines #om headcanons #omswd x reader #omswd imagines #omswd headcanons #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #simeon x reader #solomon x reader #obey me fluff #om fluff #omswd fluff #fluff #x reader

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djljpanda · 11 months

Note

(Minor Story Mode (Ep1-8) + Major Tower of Sweet Chaos Spoilers Ahead)

Hydrogen Anon.

I've seen the people over at self aware genshin mention this idea multiple times, so I thought I would talk about it in the context of self aware crk - this has most likely been done.

Imagine if the cookies can hear what you put in the background as you play?

Listen to documentaries? They're gonna think you're some kind of archivist, especially since you seem to randomly watch them during important moments.

Music? They're gonna assume you had a hand in it.

Commentary Videos or those Reddit videos? Back to thinking you're some all knowing archivist, even if these particular events are day to day goings of average people.

Pop on a crime podcast? They're freaked it's not getting a reaction out of you if they don't realise what it is (to that in a second)- would they assume you're being briefed on some crime??

When you get to Earthbread you might not even be able to convince them for a long time that you really didn't have a hand in any of it. Depending on how much admiration they actually hold for you, they might just wave it off as you being extremely modest or even slightly self deprecating.

Now that I think about it, although mobile phones are seen in ovenbreak promo material (I think?), I don't *think* it's mentioned in crk, and considering the use of letters in story mode + envoys in the Creme Republic, they might not even know all the audio is pre-recorded. They might assume whatever you're listening to is in the room with you.

Oh god, what if you listened to audio of crk Cutscenes as you played crk. Imagine listening to Tower of Sweet Chaos and accidentally revealing that not only are White Lily and D.E are the same person, but that the witches ate cookies. Simultaneously traumatised every single cookie you've gotten so far. Also-- if they're not aware enough to realise they're fictional characters, you've basically time travelled from their perspective. Wtf???

I personally listen to a combination of commantary and folk music, so I'd imagine it'd be weird asf to hear about modern topics, then suddenly sing about mythology, and considering Earthbread has magical beings, they'll probably assume the mythology is grounded in some truth, or that you're even involved in//witnessed some of these stories.

Overall, it depends where crk is technologically. If they don't have devices with the ability to record audio, then you might have a lot of explaining to do.

The cookies are either scared or confused maybe even both.

But I can how some may call baker “The One With Many Voices”, then thinking that maybe your telling stories or events that already happened or going to happen, like a prophecy.

Oh just imagine the chaos when they hear their voice and get spoilers for future events. That’s one of the many reasons why the cookies see you as some form of god can see into the future and tell prophecy’s.

If they don’t have stuff like taboo or audio recordings then yes Mc has a lot of explaining to do, you might even make radios and audio recorders and these cookies will treat them as the greatest treasures.

If they do have that stuff some may ask what channel, station, or just where you heard them from. They want to have this thing you guys call “Reddit”.

#cookie run kingdom x reader #crk self aware #self aware crk #crk x reader #cr kingdom #cookie run kingdom #cookie run x reader #self awareness #anon ask

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perpetualexistence · 4 months

Text

Sea Monster AU: Agony of a Sea Witch

youtube

It sure has been a while since I've made a post for this AU, hasn't it? I know I said I would get this done in time for Mermay. But it's only technically two days away, so I consider this to be Mermay in my heart. That and it's Pride month so now this is just my contribution of incredibly toxic yaoi to Pride month!

What's with the song choice you might ask? And the title? Don't worry about it. Noah'll be fine. Probably.

But yeah this is like 3.5K words so I hope you guys enjoy my blood sacrifice Sea Monster AU update!

Content warnings: Murder mentions, toxic relationship, Alejandro being manipulative as per usual

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With his new body comes new risks. He can't afford to have his legs suddenly turn into tentacles on land. It'd be even worse if they transformed in front of Alejandro. So he's not leaving this cove until he's convinced he can leave it without instantly outing himself.

He starts with turning his legs to tentacles and back. A lot of it has to do with wanting them to transform. Which is good because otherwise this would be a pain.

As the adrenaline fades away, he's more cognizant of how weird it is to feel each leg split into four separate limbs, and then come together again. He shudders at the sensation, but over time he gets used to it.

It takes him all night until he's finally comfortable enough to make his way back home. He sneaks back in at one point only to be caught by an older sibling. They express their concerns about his recent behavior. He manages to get them off his back for now, but they're clearly still worried.

It's summer break at this point, so Noah has plenty of time to learn more magic. He lies to his family about taking summer classes so they don't question his time away. He tells the same lie to Alejandro so that Alejandro doesn't insist the two spend more time together.

That lie he's much more worried about. Not only because Alejandro is more volatile, but also because he knows that Alejandro is going to ask him about how his revenge went.

The intent lie Alejandro believes, so he won't have to explain why he did it. But he'll have to lie about how much he enjoyed it to cater to Alejandro.

Except it doesn't really feel like a lie. Because there's a part of Noah that knows he did rather enjoy it. When his mother asked him whether he was getting a job over the summer or staying at school, he almost admitted right there that he wouldn't need to get a job. Their biggest money problem is gone.

Noah has been considering a lot of people 'problems' now. It's easier to feed a problem to a ravenous sea creature than a person. He knows, on a logical level, that this is wrong and is a very concerning line of thought. But he's been through so much that he feels like he's done more than enough to earn it.

When he goes to talk with Alejandro, the large eel does pick up on his hesitation in taking pride in his kill. He's...surprisingly sympathetic towards Noah's reluctance. He admits that doing it in cold blood for the first time hits a lot harder than simply watching it. It's not something for the faint of heart.

It's why Alejandro was so happy that Noah was willing to try it out. Once you get over the morality of it, it's such a delightful, vindicating experience. Alejandro would love to be there one day to witness Noah finally let loose. Noah deserves it, truly. However, Alejandro won't force it. He's not that crude. If Noah does want to go further down the path of might then Alejandro will be happy to guide him along. Until then, Noah can take his time with it.

Noah leaves that conversation with zero suspicions from Alejandro, but so many questions. The way Alejandro phrased it was oddly sweet and felt like an earnest attempt to comfort him. But it was still encouraging murder. Even if it was arguably justified. And satisfying.

At least it made it clear that shrinking Alejandro was the only way to go. Once he was less dangerous, Noah could figure out what to do with him after.

But first of all he's got to figure out this new body of his. Knowing how to switch between human to cecaelia won't mean anything if his new tentacles keep slapping him in the face every time he tries to use them. Or using suckers to attach onto rocks when he did not mean for them to get adhesive. The retractable fangs are rather annoying since he keeps cutting his tongue with them. Not to mention the excessive amount of saliva that seems to come with it.

The most difficult part is learning how to operate eight lower limbs instead of two. It's also the most exhausting. Chef's training had done little to improve his endurance. Even worse since he's underwater where his whole body feels sluggish.

Slowly but surely, he starts getting better at swimming with his tentacles. He doesn't have the finest control over them, but he can swim with them and go in the direction he actually wants to go in. He isn't sticking to everything he touches with his tentacles, either. He considers that progress.

He'd still like to know how being an octopus was supposed to protect him from a giant electric eel. Sure, he can swim better now. That doesn't do much against someone who can easily outpace him. Or just zap him.

He knows the basics about octopi. He knows they can make ink clouds to confuse their enemies. Which might work for about five seconds until Alejandro goes around the small cloud. The more useful thing is the ability to camouflage. It'd only work when standing still. But if the ritual to shrink Alejandro means he has to go out to open waters, he NEEDS a way to hide himself. He wouldn't be able to afford Alejandro catching him collecting something, or worse, with tentacles.

Through trial and error, Noah finds out that his whole body can go invisible, not just his tentacles. All the better for him. He anchors his ability to camouflage with his desire to disappear. It's an easy feeling to pull up. He usually wants to stay out of most interactions, and his desire to get away from all of this is enough to get him invisible. The harder part is stopping it. Because it means letting go of the feeling. Noah can't really calm down to let go of it because Alejandro has him on high alert at all times. He just forces himself to think of something else, and it works.

All of this is just taking more time away from preparing the ritual. He hasn't even had the chance to read over it properly. He very badly wants to jump the gun, but that'll risk getting caught in a body he can barely control. But being unprepared for the ritual, and the lives it'll probably require given this book's track record so far, is also a huge risk. And during all of this, he's still going on hunts with Alejandro. Risks all around, and Noah feels like he's this close to snapping completely when he's pulled in different directions.

So when Owen sends him a text asking if he wants to hang out over the summer? You know what? Sure. Why not?

Noah deserves a distraction from all the things he's putting himself through. Is this distraction also risky? Yes. But it's not as if he's going to go out in the water with Owen. There's plenty to do in this incredibly isolated town that only advertises its incredibly visible beaches with the extrovert who has constantly been inviting him to going to another yacht party in Alejandro's hunting grounds.

God Owen would be so screwed if Noah wasn't setting up Alejandro's menu.

At least Owen doesn't push so much into what's going on in Noah's life once Noah makes it clear that's not happening. It's nice to actually have the ability to say no. Not the illusion of choice Alejandro brings. It's easier to forget all the things he's done when the most he has to worry with Owen is avoiding a nose milkshake.

Well, there is the fact that Owen is also still insisting on Noah coming along to group hangouts. More people means more lies and more suspicion. But it also means more chance to be in the background conversation. Not do anything.

Noah misses not having to do anything. So against his better judgement, he says yes.

He lets himself get swept into the hurricane that is Owen, Eva, and Izzy. He appreciates Eva not asking any questions from him and just letting him exist. Plus watching her go off on people is fun. Izzy, for all the rabid energy she brings, is more than happy to make all the choices for what they're going to do. He's more than happy to just let her. Owen's both enabling all the chaos and making sure everyone's doing great. He doesn't question Noah wearing a scarf during the humid, sweltering summer. He just scoops Noah up when the heat exhaustion starts getting to him.

And Noah? He's just there. There's no expectations that he does anything. He snarks and they don't complain about his personality.

It's such a nice break from all the murder and deceit. It takes away from the time he could be spending to solve this problem. But if he doesn't give himself this he's pretty sure something's going to snap inside of him. So he fits it in between the magic and the hunting and the hanging out with Alejandro that the eel still insists on.

Hanging out with Alejandro does make hunting more bearable. And Alejandro more bearable. Alejandro still enjoys reading with Noah and bringing him smaller treasures.

Still, now that Noah's started to hang out with other people, he can how conditional spending time with Alejandro is. There's a stark contrast between being with people who could kill you on accident with their shenanigans, and being with someone who would kill you on purpose for trying to pull shenanigans.

It nags at him. Constantly. He doesn't want it to. He wants to relax for once in his life. He can't have that with Alejandro like this. He needs to stop distracting himself. No matter the cost, he has to go through with this. He's done too much now. He just has to keep playing this game a little longer.

He doesn't realize Alejandro's picked up on anything until they're on their way back from a hunt.

The conversation started off simple enough. Noah was making snarks about the people Alejandro had thrown into his gullet. They were long past having any sanctity for the dead.

Alejandro was pushing the boat that was carrying Noah along...and then he began to slow to a stop. They were nowhere near the shoreline. It was just open waters.

Noah asks what's going on. He's trying to sound as casual as possible. Maybe if he keeps faking it, he'll actually begin to calm down.

Alejandro promises it's nothing major, really. It's about a few things that have been bothering him, that's all. He's noticed some new things about Noah.

At first Alejandro thought they were great changes. He does find Noah's scarf cute, and he's very fond of Noah's new interest in Alejandro's passions.

But he's also noticed that their conversations have started to become more awkward. Like Noah isn't completely there for the conversation. He's just curious about what could be on Noah's mind.

Noah's immediately concerned as he now has to come up for an answer for this. It's just him thinking about school, that's all! And the whole murder thing! Giving that serious thought. That's the only thing on his mind.

Alejandro smiles at Noah. He wants to believe Noah. He does. But there's one other thing that's bothering him.

Noah's scent.

The day after Noah came back from his first kill, there was something new to it. Something charged. And salty?

It's very strange. Alejandro was willing to be patient for an answer from Noah. To an extent. The real problem, though, are the newest scents on Noah. They're all human scents. From different people.

Noah would have to be especially close with these humans for an especially long time for their scents to intermingle. Yet Noah hasn't mentioned anything about other humans. Given what happened the last time Noah was getting close with other humans, Alejandro is very interested in knowing what explanation Noah has for this.

Noah knew he shouldn't have let Owen bear hug him so much. Or let Eva carry him around no matter how convenient it was. Or let Izzy constantly invade his personal space. Even though the only way that he could have stopped any of them would have been not to be near them at all.

This was on him, really. For letting himself get distracted. Now he has to figure out what to tell Alejandro. If he tells the truth, he'll be dooming his friends. Alejandro will force him to make an impossible choice. It's what he always does.

He's racking his brain for something, anything to get him out of this mess. Alejandro is waiting for an answer. He does not want to be in this situation. He would give anything to get out of this situation. To just disappear.

"Que es esto?"

Noah looks up to see Alejandro looking down at him. There's some mix of confusion, horror, and anger in his eyes. It's worrying since Noah hasn't given a response yet. His eyes are also darting around Noah. Around?

Noah brings his gaze back down to the boat to figure out what Alejandro is looking at.

Then he looks down to realize that on instinct, he's camouflaged with the ship.

Oh.

No.

Noah's body acts before he can think twice about it. He jumps into the water. Staying on that boat would be a death sentence. At least this way he has a chance at getting away and figuring out SOMETHING.

He knows Alejandro is calling for him and he doesn't care. He's never transformed while invisible and he doesn't want to take any chances now. He's barely gotten any distance until he feels the hairs on his arms raise.

Invisibility means nothing to electrolocation.

Noah is grabbed and is pushed away from the surface. Noah lets out a shout as air bubbles escape him. He switches to using his gills since Alejandro wouldn't notice those anyways. He has a clear view of the fury on Alejandro's face as they swim deeper.

Alejandro demands an answer NOW. He won't return Noah to the surface until Noah shows himself and agrees to explain. Alejandro will keep him here until he drowns if he must. Because he needs to know how Noah knows magic.

Noah thrashes as he tries to get out of Alejandro's vice-like grip. Alejandro doesn't know about the gills, but he'll figure it out eventually. The most he can do is buy himself some time. He's terrible with coming up with plans on the spot but he's got no choice to learn through trial by fire.

He refuses to respond. Speaking would expose his gills. He can hide somewhere and wait Alejandro out if Alejandro thinks he needs to go to the surface for air.

Alejandro is still demanding an answer. How does Noah know magic? That would explain the new scent, but not where Noah got it from. Alejandro has scoured these waters thoroughly. He's the only sea creature here.

So how? And why? They've been having such a good time together. Alejandro didn't even know he could enjoy spending time with a human. Yet he waited with bated breath for Noah's visits. He had been looking for every excuse to keep Noah alive when he fully recovered from his journey here.

Then, when Noah suggested these hunts-

"What?" Noah asked. Holding his cards to his chest be damned. He could NOT let Alejandro try to make Noah out to be the bad guy.

"When you suggested the hunts." Alejandro repeated. He seemed too agitated to even notice that Noah shouldn't be able to speak underwater.

"I didn't suggest them! I never asked for this! You made it clear it was help you or die!"

"I never said you had to help me. I only said you had to give me a reason to let you live."

And no. No, that's not how that worked. That can't have been how that worked. Noah can remember the threat on his life.

"You made the offer to help me hunt all on your own. You could've offered only to spread my legacy and I would've accepted it. You chose to be just as vicious as me. And I was so delighted that you chose me over your own kind."

That's not how that happened. Because if it was, then Noah could have avoided all of this. If it was, then Noah might have been able to reason with Alejandro from the beginning. Noah wouldn't have any blood on his hands. He would still be a good person. Instead of whatever he is now.

It takes more effort than he dares to admit to keep his voice flat. "If it was a choice this whole time, then why didn't you tell me?"

Alejandro paused for a moment. He looked like he wanted to search for Noah's expression. There was none to give with the camouflage. "I thought you'd be happier this way."

How dare Alejandro? How dare Alejandro?

He can't stack the cards against Noah and then blame Noah for not playing the game right. He can't say Noah could have communicated better when he was the one who made Noah feel as if he couldn't say anything at all.

Months of pent up aggravation are bubbling to the surface. He wants Alejandro to hurt. He wants Alejandro to bleed. It's the only way this monster will understand the extent of what he's done to Noah.

Noah feels the transformation happen, and he welcomes it. He's revealed as legs become tentacles. The blue rings on his tentacles glow bright and fierce. He can feel Alejandro struggle to re-adjust his grip. Alejandro is transfixed by the glowing rings. Good.

He uses his tentacles to push at Alejandro's hand to give him room to escape the grip. It's working somewhat. It gives him enough room to sink fangs deep into Alejandro's finger. This was for every time the damnable thing had ruffled his hair. Every time he was given a playful pet or a light jab. Every agonizing moment of patronizing.

He can taste when he pierces through the skin. He keeps going. As hard as he can. Noah's saliva is pouring into the open wound. It's small, but it's something.

Alejandro shouts in pain but doesn't let go. Noah can see the water around Alejandro's tail crackling with frustrated electricity.

Then, Alejandro's grip loosens. Noah bursts out of it. Finally, his sacrifice was good for SOMETHING. He tries to swim away from Alejandro's range.

Alejandro uses the same hand as before to block Noah's escape and bring him back to face the merfolk. Noah is expecting to be squeezed again and tries to get off of Alejandro's palm before it happens.

He does escape. Alejandro's hand closes around where Noah had just been a couple of seconds ago. Alejandro looks...confused. His hand is trembling. He reaches for Noah again, but the hand is slower this time. Much easier to avoid.

"What...what did you do to me?" Alejandro asked.

Noah's rage is marred with confusion. Alejandro's arm slowly falls to the side. Limp.

That's when it clicks for Noah. He'd never looked up the exact species of octopus he was. He'd been far too preoccupied with other matters, and he thought it would never come up. Yet here he was, with glowing blue rings and a bite chockfull of saliva.

Except it was never saliva. It was venom. And now they're both finding out how deadly Noah had made himself.

The fear in Alejandro's eyes is satisfying. Noah's finally managed to turn the tables on him. Even if he never wanted it like this. The plan had never been to kill Alejandro. Just to contain him. Alejandro would have killed him if he thought he had to. So whatever's about to happen is just going to happen.

So long as he keeps telling himself this, he can ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

He can't ignore the gray mass of flesh barreling towards him.

Of course.

Noah should have realized it was always going to end like this. He's not going to be fast enough to outswim that tail. He's been martyring himself this whole time. Might as well go all the way. At least the few people he cares about will be safe from his stupid, horrible mistake.

His last thought is wondering if there ever was a way this could have ended differently.

The tail hits him. Electricity courses through his body.

He screams, and it goes dark.

(For all of you curious, Noah's a blue-ringed octopus! I would have shared a picture earlier, but I didn't want to spoil the surprise in case you knew about it already. Here is a lovely little picture of an incredibly deadly octopus the size of a golfball that can kill a human in minutes!

#sea monster au #total drama au #total drama #total drama noah #td noah #total drama alejandro #td alejandro #td alenoah #total drama alenoah #alenoah #giant/tiny #noah td #alejandro burromuerto #horror au #tw toxic relationship #cw toxic relationship #total drama horror au #td horror au

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bluewhitehues · 8 months

Text

Hug | Kim Mingyu

Summary: You secretly like your bestfriend chan,he has no idea and sets you up on a blind date with his friend and hyung Mingyu.

Genre: Angst? (Little bit), comfort, strangers to lovers, fluff

Pairing : Idol Kim Mingyu × (f) reader

Warning: mentions of anxiety

Author's note : These are lyrics from Hug by Seventeen ..you'll see it unfolding throughout the story.

Also I didn't expect this much of response but I'm so so happy you guys liked it 😭😭THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE THIS MEANS A LOT TO ME 🥺❤️

Part 2

You still are a little bit nervous but you aren't a quitter, you're one confident women.

You checked yourself one last time in the mirror, throwing that confident smirk to yourself cause you damn well knew you look good, you winked at yourself and finally went to the uber you booked. You decided to go a few minutes earlier so that you'd get a little comfortable at that place, first of all you've no idea who your date is and you don't wanna go through the trouble and embarrassment of searching him through the whole place so yeah no you decided to be there early.

Chan that a$shole didn't even give you your supposed blind date's number saying "I gave him your number he'll find you ."

So yeah here you were waiting for him in the cafe. You noticed it wasn't too crowded it was rather peaceful.

On the other hand there's Mingyu he was also nervous but excited the whole day.

He had asked chan about how did you say yes, "what was her reaction?" "Was she weirded out because I want to go on a date with her?" But chan has been dismissive of him saying, "Just eat the fruit hyung don't count the seeds."

He didn't think much of that, he was just excited for the date. Imagine his big but smol puppy self jumping here and there being all giddy, thinking about you. He even told seokmin and wonwoo about the date.

After coming from their schedule he showered and got ready. A black turtleneck, a denim jacket over it and blue jeans.He sprayed his favourite perfume on himself, took his car keys while wonwoo was teasing him about the date he left the apartment with the blush all over his cheeks. He was so giddy, tho while driving few things popped up in his mind, What if you don't like him, what if it won't work out but you said yes to the date so he was counting on that.

He arrived at the cafe finally. After parking his car, he went inside.

There you were looking all pretty and cute sipping your milkshake. He went towards your table, you noticed him when he was near, he saw your eyes going a little wide.. he removed his mask and sat down infront of you.

"Hey you are early, I thought I'd be the early one . Did you wait for too long? " He asked with a nervous chuckle .

And you ....there was shock written all over your face, you were freaking out from inside. Chan that mf was so so dead he sent Kim fking Mingyu as your blind date , and never in your wildest dreams you thought this would happen. You thought it must be some friend of his but A MEMBER? A SEVENTEEN MEMBER?? AS YOUR BLIND DATE????? What the fuvk was happening right now .

You were confused as hell but you talked, " Mingyu ? It's you?"

Now it was his turn to be confused, "U-uh chan didn't tell you? You didn't know it'd be me?" He asked tilting his head a little.

"No he didn't, he told me it's a blind date."

Mingyu closed his eyes shaking his head cursing chan in his mind , "I'm so sorry y/n , I swear I didn't know that you don't know it's a date with me , I thought he told you ..I know it's unfair, if I know you should've also known it's me ..I'm sorry " he sighed.

You were feeling so many emotions at once, you didn't know what to say. You said yes to this because you wanted to move on but you can't do this to Mingyu.. out of all the people not him. You know how good of a person he is chan has talked about him always. You can't do this to him while you like his little brother -his bestfriend. He doesn't deserve this he deserves better,even if it's just a date.

"I believe you mingyu you don't have to say sorry I just-" you sighed ,"I'm sorry i just didn't think it'd be you infact I didn't think at all that it could be any one of your members ..that's why I'm so surprised."

He smiled at you, " well yeah it's me and it's my fault as well I should've directly asked you insteading of involving chan"

And just now your dumb ass is realising that it's Mingyu who asked chan for a date with you and that information is like a bomb to your brain you're shaking your head to avoid the effects of explosion, you're hoping whatever it is you're thinking isn't true but mingyu decides to speak seeing your inner turmoil.

"So uh I really hope you're interested in this date but if this is too much for you and if you're uncomfortable because it's me, we can go if you're not feeling ok I understand."

Now you're feeling so much bad he's being so kind to you.

"You are not making me uncomfortable don't worry but I could really use some fresh air I don't think I can talk here ..do you mind if we go out?"

"ofcourse we can,let's go."

Like the gentleman he's he insisted on paying for your drink and you insist on buying a drink for him, the least you can do is that for ruining the date.Also you felt bad because you didn't even ask him if he ate you knew they had schedule for the whole day.

You were walking on the street, it is quiet here in this area, it's even surrounded by nature , you both were a bit awkward but yeah.

"Are you feeling better now?" He asks you.

You smile a little at him "yes I'm ..thank you."

You stop at a bridge like place where wind is blowing.

He looks at you "y/n ...if it wasn't clear..I like you, I really really like you..I just wanted you to know."

He said it with such a genuineness with those eyes twinkling, your breath got stuck, your heart was beating so loud. You wish you could say it back to him but you can't ... Cause you like someone else.

"Mingyu..." You sighed "I- thank you.. I don't know what to say but I respect your feelings and I'm really sorry." You contemplated on telling him but you decided to say, " I like someone else...and I actually said yes to the date because I'm trying to move on ..and you don't deserve this.. so I'm gonna have to say no to you, I'm so so sorry" you got teary eyed while saying all that.

He kind of saw that coming.. your sad eyes your expressions gave it all away.

"it's chan, isn't it?

Your eyes widened and you don't know why instead of saying no and lying you say "How do you know?"

He gives you a sad smile .."I've seen you with him and I'm good at observing but I hoped I was wrong." "To confirm this I actually asked him if you guys are dating or something-" he was going to say something more but decides to stop cause he realises it might hurt you ..

You snort at that , "it's ok mingyu I know he doesn't like me like that." You look at him in the eye while your own eyes are teary ," Honestly it feels so wrong you know ..to like him-" he cuts you off at that shaking his head " there's nothing wrong in liking someone y/n ..get that in your head and hey I like someone too you know,even if she doesn't like me. See we're in the same boat if you ask me." He says it teasingly, you laugh a little at that.. despite his own sadness he's trying to comfort you.

"Hey now, are you trying to make me feel guilty?" You ask looking up at him.

He laughs," no I'm not I'm just joking."

You sigh.. "you'll not tell this to chan right?" You ask him a little scared.

"No y/n ..you can trust me, I won't say anything to anyone. Whatever happened today it's a secret between you and me"

"You promise ?" You look at him with hopeful eyes.

He gives you his pinky and smiles "I promise."

You hook your pinkies in a promise.

You think about how he must've looked forward to the date and you dropped all these bombs on him, you must've made him sad .."I feel like a jerk I ruined the date for you I'm so-"

"What are you sorry for please stop saying sorry, you didn't know it'd be me I'm feeling more sorry I must've startled you." He says looking at you because he really does feel bad about you not knowing.

"well you did startle me but you also don't have to say sorry ..Lee chan will pay for this, what if we both join hands to plan something against him"

He laughs at your playfulness, "deal."

There's a awkward silence then he says "we should go it's getting chilly ..I'll drop you off ?" He's hoping you'd say yes atleast to this.

You try to politely decline him but he insists and you decide to say yes.

Note: Heyy this is it for today, I don't know how many parts it'll be may be 1 or 2 more ...I'll try to post daily I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for reading byeee❤️

Part 3 👇🏻

#seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt x reader #svt angst #seventeen mingyu #mingyu #mingyu×reader #kimmingyuff #kimmingyu #seventeen fanfic #fanfic #seventeenimagines #seventeenangst #seventeen ff #lee chan #svt dino #dino x reader #wonwoo #lee seokmin

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concerningwolves · 2 years

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Also, this talk about scapegoating ND people because of "incorrect" or "weird" behaviours vividly reminds me of this time in middle school when our entire year group did this desert island survival team-building exercise.

I've blanked most of it from my memory because the whole scenario was unspeakably miserable, but I don't think I'll ever forget what happened when the teachers introduced a Traitors-type mechanic. Basically, they randomly picked a student who would "sabotage" the "supplies" by stealing some (iirc, these were a stock of those little beanbags we used in PE), and we were supposed to work together to salvage the situation.

What actually happened was a witch hunt for the saboteur, and because I (undiagnosed autistic) wasn't reacting "correctly" to the situation, everyone came down on me. I remember standing in the corridor while a bunch of people that I called acquaintances, and some who I considered friends, all crowded around asking me if I was the thief. I think I might have been almost hysterical, because I started laughing and grinning in that painfully embarrassed way while I protested my innocence, and they took this as further "proof" and pressed me harder. I remember feeling absolutely filthy with hot-and-cold sweat, so frustrated I wanted to cry, because nobody would believe me. They were convinced it was me, because I'd committed some social transgression or other that I didn't understand, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

The teachers put a stop to it in the end. (I think they actually cancelled the entire exercise, but maybe it was just that particular aspect they scrapped). Our form teacher gave everyone a very disappointed talk and revealed that the real thief was someone nobody had even glanced at, because he was popular and well-liked. I don't remember if anyone ever apologised to me. One of my friends told me I'd been "over-reacting", because it was "just a game", but to me it'd felt like a microcosm of my social life with the stakes dialled up a 100%.

I will always be able to point to that instance as the first time I became really, excruciatingly aware just how Different I was. For some reason, I'd put a target on myself, I thought. I know now that it was actually a case of ableism and inherent biases against neurodivergent behaviors, but that's a recent revelation. And my heart breaks when I think about how that kind of thing happens every day, all across the world, because so many societies train people to see ND traits as red flags.

#Autism #Autism stuff #Ableism #Neurodivergent

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unhonest-iago · 6 months

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Like Mother, Like Son

Bakugou who's a full on mess when he realizes he likes Izuku. Turns out, he's exactly like his mom when it comes to romantic relationships. And poor Deku, he's confused because it seems as though a switch has been flipped. It's still the same insults but they seem more like backhanded compliments. He doesn't know if he can call what Bakugou yells at him insults anymore. Very mixed signals.

'Hey dipshit, I know you have two beautifully capable eye sockets! Now use them! I said 6'o clock, not 3!!'

'How many times have I told you to be more careful?! One of these days, you'll end up dead!'

'Oh c'mon, I know you're not that fucking weak!'

They all have an underlying tone of concern or care for him. An element that wasn't present even when they were kids. Before Kacchan gave Izuku that annoying nickname that only made him further want to prove himself. Izuku fully aware that Bakugou wouldn't give him an honest answer, instead went to Kirishima. If anyone knew why Kacchan was acting so weird, it'd be him.

‘Oh! You mean Katsuki’s big crush?’ Kirishima blurts out after letting Izuku ramble about his observations. ‘Yeah, he threatened to blow up my room if I ever said anything about it.’ Kirishima continued. Deku thought to himself, ‘that does sound like Kacchan.’ Quickly realizing that Bakugou admitted his crush to Kirishima by not refuting it. That his threat simply confirmed it.

'Why are you so out of it?' Bakugou barked after dealing with a week of Izuku stuck in limbo. 'What?'

'You've been sloppy. You don't even bother trying to dodge. You haven't been rambling about whoever it is' stupid quirk you're currently obsessed with. It's pissing me off, so what gives?'

'Do you like me? Like more than friends?'

'Shitty hair told you?! I swear when I get my hands on him--'

'Well...yes, but I like you too.' Izuku's eyes widened as Katsuki let out a tch sound. 'Ugh, I guess...would you like to go on a date then?'

'Uh, sure.'

#iago writes #not x reader #bakudeku #katsuki bakugou x izuku midoriya #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #bnha #mha #my hero academia #fluff

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 1 year

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Before You Go | MYG

Pairing: producer! best friend! yoongi x best friend! fem! reader

Summary: Life is taken for granted. People like to kill time not knowing it is time who is killing them. Love is not always a medicine, fate is always cruel. Or in which Yoongi realised his mistakes too late and was sentenced to live with an empty soul. There are times in which you can't always be there. He knew he was too late.

Warnings: ANGST, so much angst guys, medical terms, terminal sickness, argument, fainting, character death, more angst, feelings of guilt and desperation. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

A/N: Soooo, this was originally planned to be a drabble but it escalated so, hehe here it is! Also, I'm still working on the next part of Four Seasons. It'll be a long chapter so please bear with me.

Please let me know what you thought of this in the comments! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one.

Word Count: 5.1k

"Three months at the most."

Said the doctor. You looked at him. No emotion marked your beautiful features. You blinked. A second passed. Then another and another. The world continued on its normal course while your sentence was already dictated. It almost seemed comical.

"There is, of course, a surgery we could perform on your brain. But I'm afraid it will only allow you to live for a year, year and a half if we are lucky. But it'd be dangerous. Even performing a biopsy is risky in your condition, Miss Lee."

You took a deep breath, your hand clutched your purse as it rested in your lap. The tickling of the clock was driving you insane, you wanted to leave your doctor's office, you wanted to run, to scream, to cry but your body was frozen in place.

A soft smile plastered on your face, the only reaction you could fathom at the moment.

"Thank you, Doctor Kim. I'll... I'll think about it."

He stood up, towering over you as he said with a nod. His hand extended to shake yours.

"Please, do so. Come in a few weeks if you start having headaches."

You nodded, shaking his hand as you also stood up.

"I will. Have a good day, Doctor Kim."

Your hand left his and you turned around to leave. Your feet carrying you out of the room that suddenly felt too small. You only wanted to go back to your flat and curl on your bed.

In a monotonous way you paid for the appointment at the reception of the hospital. Your eyes didn't focus on anything in particular while also noticing everything at the same time.

You walked slowly through the busy streets, the evening sun kissing your skin. The steps you took were automatic, you allowed your legs to take you home while in your mind there was only space for the doctor's words.

"Three months at the most."

That phrase repeated itself over and over again in your head. How you wished to just be home right now however, you decided to not take a cab, you wanted to enjoy the walk. Admire nature as you pass by the park and feel the sun in your skin.

Rarely did you ever pay attention to all those little things. Details that gave colour to your life. Details you were never able to forget. Not until it would happen and you'd leave this place. But you still had some time. Three months was too much.

Or that was what you thought.

~ 73 days later.

"You are hiding something from me!"

Yoongi exclaimed. Your heart clenched at the words coming out of your best friend's mouth. It hurt. It hurt to not tell him. For you to leave him in the dark. For him to think you weren't being honest with him.

You both had been friends for so long you couldn't count the days any longer.

"I'm not! Don't you trust me? We've been friends for so long, Yoongi!"

He sighed, wetting his lips as he tried to form words with his muddy thoughts swirling all over his head. He wasn't stupid. You'd been acting weird as of lately. You often gave him excuses of why you didn't want to leave your flat and when you both would go out he'd notice things.

He'd always notice when something was bothering you, when you were in pain, when too many thoughts were going on through your head. He knew you. Probably better than he knew himself.

All those little suspicions, the strange headaches you'd have only for later to vanish into thin air. The way you looked paler than usual, how you were overly tired.

He had noticed.

Yoongi would be a fool to not acknowledge the signs happening in front of his eyes. Yet his mind couldn't get a conclusion. Instead he was blinded by worry over you. Worry expressed as anger. As desperation. As frustration.

"It is you who is not trusting me, (y/n)! I know something's going on. And I will figure it out whether you like it or not."

"I do trust you."

Your voice sounded so hurt and small with those four words whispered out. Tears clouded your vision but you didn't fight back the moisture in your eyes. You kept looking at him in desperation.

Couldn't he just let it pass?

Apparently not. Yoongi was a stubborn man. If he wanted something, he got it. One way or another. But how would you tell him you were dying? How would you tell your best friend you didn't have much time to live? He had planned on taking you on vacation together after he had signed a good contract with a singer.

He promised to treat you to ice cream next Sunday. You promised that you'd be with him forever. You had been with him forever. In everything he had ever accomplished you had been there. You had been there to dry his tears and smile with him. to celebrate his victories and advise him during hard times.

You had always been there. Always by his side. Always in his life.

Did you have the right to take that away from him?

You were a coward. Yes. You knew that yourself. A part of you didn't want to acknowledge the fact that you were dying. And it hurt so much when Yoongi couldn't see further than his own assumptions. He didn't see you as someone he could trust anymore. He thought you were hiding something from him. Which, technically, you were.

Never in your life had you ever hidden something from him. That was why it hurt him so much when he realised there was something going on in your life that was taking a toll on you and he didn't know.

Yoongi ran a hand through his dark hair, his gaze softened slightly at the sound of your delicate voice. So vulnerable. So hurt. It wasn't like you to talk like that.

But despite his heart clenching at the sight of your tears, his next words cut you deeper than any knife could ever harm you. Not even the doctor's words three months ago had hurt as much as Yoongi's words.

"It doesn't seem like it. But if you don't want to tell me, fine. Take your secrets to your grave, I don't care."

Take your secrets to your grave.

If only he knew you were already standing above it. If only he had known those words had made your heart shatter in such a way you couldn't even fathom to say something, if only he knew there was more that met his sight.

If only he knew.

You didn't say anything. Silent tears were running down your cheeks. This was it. The tread you feared would ever break. He had broken it when you were already so sick, when your days were numbered. He had broken a friendship of years with a single sentence.

You were to blame too. If you hadn't been so scared, this argument would have never happened. This gap wouldn't exist. You are to blame too. You are at fault too. You ruined his trust, played with his emotions, wasted his time. All for what? So that you could keep a secret that would eventually come out?

But now it was too late.

Yoongi didn't want to hear anything else. You opened your mouth to say something. Anything at all. But the words died in your throat, shot down by his disappointed declaration instead.

"I'm leaving. I need some space to think."

Your hands trembled as they hung next to you limply. You were losing him. Yoongi, who was your closest friend, your best friend. The closest thing you ever had of a family. The man who owned your heart in more ways than he thought.

You lost him.

He wasn't going to intrude where he wasn't welcome. He wasn't going to push you. If you weren't going to trust him, there was no point in him staying in a place he no longer felt welcomed.

Yoongi turned around and left, not allowing you to say a single word. He wished you had stopped him. He wished you had walked over to him and grabbed his wrist, pleading him to listen. For you to tell him whatever was happening that made you hide it.

He wanted to know.

He needed to know.

Because his heart screamed a name he didn't want to recognise. His soul yearned for the touch of a woman he was yet to take into account. His mind was busy with thoughts of you. Memories of you. Plans with you.

But he didn't know what it meant. He didn't know what he so deeply desired. Needed. So he left.

Yoongi left you to yourself, your front door shut and you were alone. Alone for good. Left behind. Abandoned. Everyone has a limit and Yoongi has gotten to that limit.

He said he needed space to think. Space to be on his own. Time to think if your friendship was worthy of keeping or if he had to let it go. Despite the pain his soul would suffer and the wrecked heart he'd have to endure.

Sometimes it's better to just let go.

But he didn't know what he was letting go. He didn't know anything. Yoongi left without answers and you stayed with a broken heart.

It's been a week since that argument. There had been no calls or texts from Yoongi. And you weren't going to get in contact first either. He wanted space, you'd give him that. He wanted time, you'd give him what you had left.

You sat in front of your desk, soft rain pattered over the glass. It was calming. Soothing in a way. A pen rested in your hand as words were being scribbled down on a sheet of paper addressed to him. To Yoongi.

You were giving him all the time you had for him to come back. But just in case you ran out of it, you wanted to explain everything to him. He deserved to know. You realised that now. He had deserved to know since the very beginning.

But you were scared. You had been selfish. You chose to live in a fantasy when reality clawed its way through you, tearing you apart in your little safe world that you wish would come true. But wishes never come true. There are no happy endings for liars. There is no mercy to change your fate.

You put the letter on an envelope with Yoongi's name written on the front. It was a letter only for his eyes to read and his mind to comprehend. It was for his mind to keep and his heart to treasure. Only for him. Always for him.

You stood up, the destination of your bedroom in mind as you were feeling tired. It wasn't unusual these days. The naps you took were getting longer and longer. You knew one day you might as well not wake up again.

But fate wasn't that merciful. You took a step, a single step forward only to have a piercing ache in your head that made you hiss. You shut your eyes, trying to get it to pass but it didn't work. If only it only got stronger with each passing second.

Your hands clasped at your scalp, fingers pulling your hair in a desperate need of relief.

The realisation hit you stronger than a train. You needed help. And you needed it fast. You stumbled towards the coffee table, the only goal in your mind was to get your phone and call for help. Something was wrong. Very wrong. You knew it. You felt it. You couldn't ignore it anymore.

With a shaking hang you reached for your phone, you didn't even bother to unlock it as you pressed the emergency call button. It rang and rang and rang, the pain continued to increase, your vision blurred.

You prayed to the skies that the person on the other line would answer. It was your only chance. The last straw to life you clawed at desperately. But it rang again and again and again and you couldn't help thinking that perhaps this was it.

Yoongi came back from the bathroom in his studio, he had been working on some new beats he wanted to try out in the near future. He had been keeping himself busy with work so as to not think about the fight he had with you a week ago.

A part of him wished you'd call him or text him but he knew you too well. If he had asked for space you were going to give him that. This was probably the worst fight you two had ever had throughout your years of friendship

He sat back down in front of the large computer screen, putting on his headphones. Yoongi continued with his work.

It wasn't until out of the corner of his eyes he saw the phone's screen lighten up. He didn't have to look at it to know someone was calling him. He sighed, taking the headphones off and saving the file with his music before he blindly picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

But there was silence. No-one answered back and for a moment, Yoongi thought it was one of those scam calls he always blocked. But before he could hang up, his name reached his ear in your whispered voice.

"Yoongi..."

He knew something was wrong the moment the first syllable reached him. He frowned, leaning forward in his chair as he tried to listen to your voice.

"(y/n)? What's wrong? Are you alright?"

The fight he had with you vanished from his thoughts as they were clouded with worry for you. He was getting scared, never in your life had you called him in such a state that it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with nerves.

You whimpered, pressing the phone close to your ear. The pain in your head was getting stronger and stronger that you couldn't speak.

"(y/n)?"

Your best friend's voice came from the other side of the phone, if you hadn't been so blinded by the white pain pressing on your skull you would have noticed the concern in his deep voice.

"(y/n), you are scaring me, what's going on?"

Yoongi stood up from his chair, grabbing his car keys in a hurry.

"H-help me."

When you dialled your emergency contact you didn't remember you had saved Yoongi's number there.

Those two words were enough to have him bolting out of the door. The destination of your place carved in his mind as he left the building.

He kept his phone pressed to his ear as he ran through the studio. His heart was beating so fast in his chest he thought it would leave his body. Adrenaline pumped in his veins. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

The fact itself scared him, because that something had to do with you. He felt as if the building was larger than normal. Like in those nightmares as he tried to reach the exit but it got further and further away. This had to be a nightmare, right?

He heard your gasp through the phone unaware of the fact that you had fallen to your knees in your apartment, your other hand clutching your head in a vice grip.

"(y/n/n) talk to me. I need you to say something. Please."

Yoongi reached the door and pulled on the handle with more force than was needed. He stepped outside, inhaling the humid air as the soft drizzle tapped against his form.

"I'm sorry."

He yanked the car door open and got inside, one hand was on the steering wheel while the other still held his phone against the side of his face.

"It's alright, (y/n). I'm on my way, okay? Just hold on, I'll be there in a second."

But you didn't hear those words from him. There was a ringing in your ears that took hold of your senses, the phone slipped from your grasp as you fell to the ground over the soft carpet with a dry sound. You closed your eyes, allowing the pain to take you in its claws of darkness as you surrendered yourself to it.

You had been fighting for so long. A little nap wouldn't harm you. You slipped into unconsciousness with the last thought in your mind being: Yoongi.

The man who you were previously speaking to fell into a frenzy when he heard the sound of the phone colliding with your carpeted floor. The hand on the wheel tightened to the point where his knuckles turned white.

"Darling, answer me please! Say something."

But he could only hear your laboured breaths from the other line. He ended the call and threw his phone on the passenger's seat. A curse leaving his lips. If the circumstances had been different, he would have blushed when the nickname escaped his lips but he couldn't fight it in a moment like this. He couldn't help the fear, the anxiety, the stress, the guilt from controlling his mind.

From making him act the way he was. He pressed on the gas and accelerated into the street. Not caring if he got a ticket for the speed limit, not caring if he drenched the bypassers with his car, not caring for anything else other than getting to you.

Tears of desperation began forming in his dark eyes but he blinked them back. It was not the time to cry. Not now. Not when you needed him. Not when you were in danger. Not when you had called him to help you. Not when his heart yearned to have you, feel you, touch you.

Not now.

Yoongi arrived at your flat in record time. With his heart thumping in his chest and his hands trembling, he stepped out of the car. He didn't even bother to lock it behind him as he was already running up the stairs that led to your apartment.

He used his spare key, one he was immensely grateful you had given him. Not bothering to knock or to take his shoes off he barged into the place like a desperate man. He was a desperate man.

Desperate to see you fine, to find you healthy, for you to be alright.

But his world came crumbling down like a paper plane when he saw you laying over the grey carpet, your phone by your side. You weren't moving.

For a moment he couldn't move. The patterning of the rain against the window drowned him in an ocean of tears he was keeping inside his soul. The quietness of your flat wasn't normal, you were always humming to yourself, playing some music. Doing something.

But as he saw you laying there, limp and cold, Yoongi's heart shattered into a million pieces.

He was brought out of his trance by some miracle, he found himself at your side the next second. His hands wouldn't stop shaking as he pulled your shoulder to lay you flat against the floor.

"(y/n)?"

But you didn't react. It almost seemed as if you were sleeping. The rise and fall from your chest was the only indication to Yoongi that you had only fainted. The circumstances as to why were still unknown to him.

His hand cradled your cheek, trying to get a reaction out of you. Something. Anything at all. But you were long gone in the world of darkness.

In a mere second, he was able to recall your call with him. You sounded in pain. Hurt. There was something that had led to your current state. Something that needed medical attention.

His hands slipped under your body and he stood up; an arm beneath your shoulders and the other supporting the back of your knees. Yoongi walked towards his car in long and hurried steps. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. His stomach churned with nerves.

If you hadn't called him, how much time would have passed until someone eventually found you? He couldn't think of that possibility. He decided to focus on the now, on the fact that he had you in his arms, that he had found you, that you were going to be okay. You had to be. For his sanity.

The soft rain wasn't enough to drench you or him as he made his way towards his parked car. With as much care as he could muster and with some tricky manoeuvre he managed to sit you in the passenger's seat and strap you to it.

Your head lulled to the side and his hand, once more, found home against the side of your face. In any other situation Yoongi would have thought that you were merely sleeping. To a point you were.

Have you always been this beautiful?

He thought to himself before he shook himself out of those thoughts and walked around the car, getting into the driver's seat and speeding off to the hospital.

One hand was on the steering wheel while the other one clasped yours tightly. It was a way to ground himself. To ground his thoughts and remember that you were there, that you'd be fine. That you were with him.

If someone had asked Yoongi before today when he had been the most patient he'd have answered when he had to download one of his large files.

But now, now as he sat in the waiting room of the hospital waiting for news about you was the time when his patience got tested.

How he wished to just enter into the room where the doctor was checking you. He needed to know what was going on. What had happened to you.

He needed to know that everything was going to be fine.

In his desperation, he called one of his friends, Hoseok and explained the situation with a lump forming at the back of his throat.

"She'll be fine, Yoongi. She's a tough girl. I'm sure it's nothing serious but I'll be there in thirty minutes in case you need anything."

That was what Hoseok had said over the line. He had met you on a few occasions, more than a few to be honest. The sweet man came to know that you were a beautiful woman with a kind heart and he respected too much the friendship Yoongi had with you.

"Is anyone here for Lee (y/n)?"

A doctor said with a clipboard in his hands. Yoongi immediately got up. His legs carrying him to the man dressed in a white coat, his eyes were red with unshed tears.

"I brought her here. Please, is she alright?"

The doctor let out a sigh that made alarm bells ring in his head.

"You better come with me."

Yoongi swallowed yet the lump in his throat only got bigger and bigger with each passing second, with each step he took behind the doctor. He stopped in front of a door, presumably your room before he spoke, his tone professional with a hint of sorrow for the broken man in front of him.

"(y/n)'s condition worsened too much in the last week. I'm surprised how quickly it deteriorated. The tumour in her brain got to the amygdala, that was what caused her immense pain resulting in her to lose consciousness."

The tumour in her brain...

...what?

"What... what do you mean with "the tumour in her brain"? She... Is she-"

So many thoughts were racing through his mind too quickly he began to feel nauseous. You were sick? All this time you had been sick? Is this what you had been hiding? The doctor sighed yet again as he spoke once more, his voice sombre this time.

"I believe she never told you."

Yoongi shook his head. Too in shock to utter a word. He felt as if someone had stabbed him in the heart. He'd bet that a stab wound would hurt less than this. The sole thought of losing you was heartbreaking enough but he couldn't help but feel like shit when the argument he had on your flat repeated itself in his mind over and over and over again.

Like a broken record player.

In a mocking manner.

With sadistic intentions.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way, Mr. Min."

A tear rolled down Yoongi's cheek slowly.

"Will she be alright?"

The world might as well end now because the younger man couldn't fathom the idea of existing. Not after the doctor's next words.

"I'm sorry. She was never a candidate for surgery, we detected the tumour too late. She isn't conscious right now but you might as well go in. I don't think she'd be able to hold on for much longer."

He hadn't expected that. He was supposed to be told you hadn't been taking your meals or you were dehydrated to the point in which you fainted. You weren't supposed to be dying. And what was worse was that he had never known.

For how long have you known of your condition?

Why did you hide it from him?

Why didn't you let him support you?

Yoongi entered your room without another word leaving his lip. He nearly collapsed at the sight of you. Pale and weak lying in a hospital bed. An IV tube was attached to your hand. Your eyes were closed.

He sat on the chair next to your bed. His trembling hands reached out for your smaller one. Why wouldn't his hands stop shaking?

"Why didn't you tell me, (y/n)?"

Those whispered words were meant for your ears only but they never reached you. You couldn't react to his stimuli even if you wanted to. your limp hand in his made tears cloud his vision and this time, he didn't hold them back.

"This was it, wasn't it? This was what you were hiding from me, right?"

He wished you'd just move, he wished you would open your eyes and gaze at him like all those times before. He wished he could hear your voice. At least one last time.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry for shouting at you that day. Y-you didn't deserve that."

If he could turn back time he'd make everything different.

"Please, (y/n/n). Please open your eyes."

If only he had been more observant.

"You cannot leave me now. Not now. Not like this."

If only he hadn't been so selfish and distanced himself from you.

"I cannot live without you, (y/n)."

If only he had been there.

"Please."

If only he had been a better friend. The best friend you deserved. The best friend you needed.

"Please don't leave me."

If only he had said the words when you could hear them. If only he hadn't taken your time for granted.

"I beg you, darling. Please don't go. Please."

Hoseok ran through the halls, the number of the room you were at was engraved in his mind for he knew Yoongi was by your side. His hand grabbed the door handle and he twisted it.

What Hoseok saw after opening that door was never going to leave his memories. A sight for his eyes to never forget.

Yoongi was grasping your hand so tightly his knuckles were white. His eyes were red and puffy as tears leaked from his dark orbs, like endless rivers of absolute and utter pain. The sound of his sobs reached Hoseok's ears. A flat line in the background.

"S-she's... she's gone. She's g-gone, Hobi."

Hoseok could only watch in horror. Never in his life had he seen Min Yoongi look so broken. So empty. Never had he cried in such a way. The sight was painful enough that tears made their way to his own eyes.

Yoongi's sobs were like poisonous arrows dripping with the blood of his wounded heart. An irreparable wound. Shattered pieces of his very own soul.

Hoseok took slow steps toward his friend until he was able to rest a hand over his shoulder.

"She didn't suffer, Yoongi. You were by her side, you allowed her to go in peace."

But those words did little to console him. He couldn't stop thinking about the "what if's". He couldn't stop the blame to gnaw at his already broken heart.

"I-I never told her, Hobi. I was a coward and I... I never fucking told her."

Hoseok's heart clenched at the pain laced in his friend's words. His pale hand grabbed yours with more strength, if that was even possible. As if he could prevent you from leaving him when you were already gone.

"I never told her that I loved her!"

Hi Yoongs, I hope you are alright.

How's life going on for you?

If you are reading this letter it probably means I am no longer with you and I'm so sorry that I had to leave you behind but as you may already know, I had no choice.

This was what I had been hiding from you. I am sick. Terminal apparently. There's nothing to be done and I don't want any kind of painful treatment. I decided to let go and enjoy what I had of time.

Please don't blame yourself. I chose not to tell you so that I could experience my life as it was. Normally and by your side.

I may not be there physically but know that I live through your memories. Please don't give up on your dreams because of me and go and do all the things you talked to me about. Fulfil our wishes. Be happy.

I wish you the best.

Thank you for being my best friend. And it is probably the worst way of saying this but I want you to know that I love you. I love you in that way. As in more than a friend. You were the best person that ever crossed paths with me, I didn't want to ruin that friendship.

I now realise that was probably a mistake. I loved you deeply. With all my heart and being. That was why telling you about my condition was more painful than it should have been. Because just as your happiness is my happiness; your pain is also my pain.

I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want you to say things out of pity. I didn't want that. I wanted to leave in the most normal way I possibly could.

Please know that I love you and I wish you the best in life. I won't be your friend all your life, let alone your lover. I won't live that long. But I will treasure your friendship and love you all my life.

I am part of your life but you are my whole life.

~(y/n).

July/30/2023

~Masterlist

Likes, Comments and Reblogs are really appreciated!!!

**☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi #sweetcarrotsandroses97 #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi #yoongi x reader angst #best friend yoongi #min yoongi x reader angst #love #bts fic #yoongi oneshot #bts #bts angst #bts suga #suga bts #min yoongi x you

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thisisjustmefangirling · 6 months

Text

Merlin rewatch : 2x09 "The lady of the lake"

Freya must have been so cold wearing these rags…

Gaius, your acceptance/resignation towards people being sold for a price if they have magic freaks me out.

As if Merlin was going to let a defenseless looking girl stay in that cage… Especially someone with magic. He feels empathy for them.

Is that the first time we're seeing the Rising sun tavern ?

Oh Merlin is using so many spells in a few minutes, I'm loving it…

"Here, I thought you might be cold."

"I just saw you and… It could have been me, in that cage".

WHY is Merlin not stealing from the kitchens instead of bringing Arthur a rotten apple and a stale piece of bread ? The NERVE ?! I wouldn't have given this to anyone, even less my BOSS, a PRINCE.

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Arthur's indignation : "I am fighting fit!"

I think this is where we're getting started with the fatphobic jokes…

Arthur has scratches/scars on his chest ? Where did he get that ?

Merlin giving Arthur "Sire" because he knows he fucked up…

Oh Freya was a druid ?

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Merlin !!!! How did you not realise that that bathwater was BOILING and could COOK ARTHUR TO DEATH ?

"You need to warn them, Sire. The girl is dangerous. My informer told me she was cursed."

"How so ?"

"He didn't know. But he said even the druids were frightened of her. They cast her out of their camp."

So Freya is an outcast. Just like Merlin, in some way. Merlin is so powerful it'd be easy to be afraid of him once he's mature enough. He's not part of the druids. Neither is Freya.

Add butter to that bread and cheese and you get un jambon-beurre haha.

"Believe me, it's fit for a prince" hahaha no shit Merlin !

"He knows but I'm not sure he understands". => Merlin about Gaius knowing about Merlin's magic.

"Magic is not a curse. It can be a gift!" Oh baby in 1x01 you feared you were a monster ?

Merlin is lying to Gaius' face and his very inquisitive eyes…

Merlin stealing Arthur's food is supposed to be a joke, okay, but I'm not sure I like it now. Arthur is being deprived of a good breakfast and lunch. He'll be cranky come evening. Give him food.

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"Merlin is my servant, he has my absolute trust. If you have a problem with him, you come to me. Do you understand ?"

This line is doing things to my heart, oh la la…

The fact that Arthur doesn't question Merlin AT ALL about his strange behaviour, they just bicker about the stolen sausages and Arthur's weight and then Merlin just… leaves. And goes straight to see Freya.

"I scare most people away" Freya you deserve better…

"You can't always trust people."

"I know. That's why I left home."

Merlin :/ Babe <3

Let it be remembered that Merlin can make flowers appear, but not food.

"With you, I can just be who I am. We don't have to hide anything. I don't have to worry."

"Being different is nothing to be scared of".

AND THAT SINGLE TEAR ROLLING DOWN HIS CHEEK !

Awww Merlin behaving like a lovesick puppy <3

This is the first time Merlin even THINKS about leaving Camelot. He's known Freya for two days. He's just really desperate to be known for who he really is, and to be free…

Moths and woodworms : the "reasons" why Merlin is snooping into closets and bedside tables he should not be touching at all.

"Running an errand for Gaius" : excuse number 1 for weird shit and secret missions Merlin is doing.

Arthur not giving a fuck about Merlin possibly crossdressing for fun in his spare time : "As long as you do a decent day's work, Merlin, that's all I care about. […] What a man does in his spare time is completely up to him". And then the compliment : "colour suits you Merlin".

This is day three now.

"We can leave tonight, as soon as it gets dark, and we can be together".

Horses, blankets and food and they won't need more. A second kiss, and goodbye. Freya doesn't have the heart to tell him.

"There was a time when you thought twice about lying to me".

Yet Merlin said "Of course not!" which such an air of sincerity… Oh yeah, he's turning into a really good liar…

Mais Gaius t'es tellement une grosse balance, t'es là à lécher les pompes d'UTHER au lieu de régler le problème avec Merlin !

"You can never understand. Do you know how it feels to be a monster? To be afraid of who you are ?"

"Freya is very different from you. She's dangerous."

Oh I didn't remember Arthur saw her in her human form ! Lol he's just there blinking as she's turning into a bastet…

I can't freaking believe Arthur's guards and knights are running away while Arthur is trying to fight the bastet !

MERLIN ! You almost crushed Arthur to death !

He's petting her head ???

OH is Freya a rape survivor, forced to kill people by the mother of her rapist ? That's so fucked up…

"Please go."

"No. I'm not leaving you here".

The PARALLELS with Arthur's dying moments !

"One day, Merlin, I will repay you. I promise". Okay but do we actually see that happen in the next seasons ? I don't remember her.

What I do remember from years ago is directors saying that Colin held that level of intensity and sadness for hours in the rain for those lake scenes.

It's the first time he has to light a funeral pyre for a friend and it sadly won't be the last…

That last scene with Arthur always gets to me. Arthur might be oblivious to a lot of things but he pays attention to Merlin more than Merlin might think, I'd say.

"Something's been upsetting you, hasn't it ?"

Arthur has seen Merlin doing the weirdest things in the past four days or so : stealing his food, calling him fat, giving him stale food to eat, stealing a dress, being accused of hiding a druid… And he doesn't accuse Merlin of anything himself. He thinks "Oh, Merlin has been upset. I must find out why. Maybe it's because of me." and then he sort of apologises and when words fail him, he uses action to make Merlin smile again. Because seeing Merlin smile, as we'll learn in the next seasons ("I haven't seen you smile in the past three days") is important to Arthur. Because he cares. Another thing that gets to me is that when Merlin is sitting upset doing his chores, Arthur usually comes to sit next to him, at his eye level, or even UNDER his eye level sometimes. Yet, a Prince should never be sitting at a lower level than a servant or any lesser noble. He gives himself the look of a listener, and he's bad with words and feelings (because of his father's shitty education) but he TRIES.

Last episode was Arthur centric, with Arthur showing his most intimate thoughts and feelings to/in front of Merlin : his grief and guilt about his mother's death, his rage at the idea that his father was responsible for her death, that he was a hypocrite and a liar... This episode was Merlin centric. I wonder what next episode will be like.

This episode was really good at exploring Merlin's feelings about his magic, his identity as a warlock, his sense of loneliness at the heart of Camelot. Gaius cares about him but is still loyal to Uther, and Merlin is not sure Gaius really understands him and what it's like to be a warlock. Arthur... Merlin cares about Arthur and Arthur cares about him, but Merlin knows that he could end up in a cage just like Freya. And I think a part of him might resent Arthur for it. Or at least, at the end of the episode, he's tired of his chores... But no wonder. Your crush is killed by your soulmate, and you still have to show up at work the next day and shine his boots ?

#bbc merlin #merlin rewatch #the lady of the lake #freya #Youtube

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sweet-as-an-angel · 8 months

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HIIII!!!!‼️‼️‼️‼️🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

I haven’t been on lately, I have some other questions too but genuinely I just want to get this out of the way because I genuinely want him so bad😭😭

So, it was my birthday yesterday and I’m just gonna be honest man, it was not good. I’m twenty now but it just feels weird?? Like I don’t know what’s happening?? I barely even celebrated, I wasn’t given the chance.

So how would Dominic be on his beloved’s birthday?? Would he do anything special?? Throw them a party with gifts?? Just genuinely anything his strange ass would do??

It can be taken as SFW, NSFW, or both!! It doesn’t matter to me🫶🫶

I hope you are doing good and all is well!! :]]

Oh also, would you ever consider writing anything for Hotch from criminal minds?? I’ve had the most INSANE crush on that man for years now, i’m just genuinely curious.

-🦝

Hello there, my Sweet 🦝 Anon ! Happy (late) birthday <3 ! I understand how difficult life can feel when you're thrown from one life stage into another, but I would like you to know this: everyone develops at their own pace. Everybody takes different amounts of time to acclimatise to new situations, so don't feel the need to rush into adulthood and its many daunting expectations ^^.

As for your birthday celebrations, I do hope you'll get the chance to fully indulge in them on your next birthday. But don't feel like you need to wait until then, my Sweet ! Celebrate whenever you want to because every day is a blessing; you don't need an excuse to pull out the festivities to mark the passing of another year, my Dear <3 !

Also, yes, I absolutely WOULD consider writing for Hotch - I have a monster crush on him, too ^^

As for Dominic:

TW: Manipulation, Vague Implication of Suggestive Material, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except 'You'.

♡ You just KNOW Dominic's going to use this special occasion to: a.) make it all about him (and his crippling saviour complex), and b.) spoil you silly.

♡ He organises a surprise party for you. Has a failsafe in case you hate it - to pin the whole affair on Marilyn, accrediting her for this wonderful party - despite inviting an optimal number of guests to keep you within the zone of relative comfort; not too many to lose yourself in, but enough where you can retreat with ease.

♡ At the first sign of discomfort, he's absolutely going to swoop in like the self-perceived hero he is and take you somewhere quiet, somewhere where you can open up to him, thank him for rescuing you from the stuffy atmosphere of the party, etc.

♡ Just stroke his ego, basically.

♡ He knows he needs to buy something inconspicuous enough that you, your family and Marilyn won't feel uncomfortable with him giving such a luxe gift. but it also needs to be extravagant and personal enough that you'll appreciate it.

♡ He'll settle on something the two of you discussed in private - something borderline utilitarian so it doesn't end up a decorative paperweight.

♡ An article of clothing, an ornate lighter, a novel so rare its publication is believed to be a myth; those sorts of things. Items that carry weight - both physical and emotional. But things you could never afford yourself.

♡ Objects that will indebt you to Dominic. Even if your birthday is supposed to be one of the few times of the year where you can receive gifts without feeling the need to repay those who give you them.

♡ Dominic can't extinguish the prickle of his ego swelling as you approach him after everyone's splintered off into their groups, thanking him profusely for your gift before asking him with a soft smile when his birthday is, what he'd like, and...how did he know it was your birthday, anyway?

♡ He smiles.

♡ "I know everything that happens in this neighbourhood," he tells you. A lock of hair slips before your eyes. He tucks it behind your ear. Can't have your saintly view of him obscured now, can he?

♡ "It'd hardly do if I didn't know when my favourite neighbour's birthday was, would it?"

♡ You figured he could've gotten that information from absolutely anyone.

♡ And he'll let you keep believing that fantasy for as long as he needs. Especially since seeing you with your beloved birthday gift fills him with a makeshift warmth that he believes is love.

♡ Dominic has never truly cared for birthdays - both his own and those of others - but for the first time in his life, he can't wait to see what you get for him. What little surprise or favour he can pull from you when it's just the two of you alone.

♡ And trust, he'll do everything in his power to make sure you're more than willing to bend over backwards for his thanks by his next birthday.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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#sweet as an angel #yandere #male yandere #yandere male #original yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere blog #yandere writing #tw yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader

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cowgurrrl · 8 months

Text

Lavender Girl

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: A field trip [4.7k]

Warnings: financial stress, school fight, June once again introduces an ex, having a muse is creepy and weird, flirting that’s not flirting but it’s not not flirting, June putting her art history knowledge to work

Most days, you're a good teacher. A teacher that students want to eat lunch with or inadvertently include in their silly TikToks. Most days, you're patient and kind and only have to raise your voice a handful of times, if only to be heard over the blanket volume level of teenage conversation. Today is not one of those days. "Guys!" You yell, pausing the music on your computer and turning to look at your class, obviously annoyed. "We're supposed to be talking about Picasso. I don't know why I'm hearing so much conversation about lunch." It's a lie. There was a fight between two students at lunch. It'd also been the topic of conversation in the teacher's lounge, but still.

"Miss, we already talked about Picasso!" One of your kids bemoans, and you raise your eyebrows at them.

"So, if I asked you right now, you could tell me what historical event his painting Guernica is supposed to depict?" You ask. The entire class goes silent as you wait for a response that never comes, and you sigh. "Please, do your work."

The day started with getting yet another email from another gallery, this time from down south, telling you they loved your work but not enough to showcase or buy it. Then, a text from your manager letting you know that paychecks will be late because of technical issues with the system, even though you're already beyond broke. Then, a sad text from Andie about how she's feeling homesick and misses you and wishes you could get on a plane to come see her. Then, to top it all off, an email from your ex, Henry, popped up the second you pulled into the school.

Hey, long time, no talk! I hope you're doing well. I wanted to reach out and let you know I've got an exhibition going up later next week and wanted to invite you to the opening. It's about-

You didn't read any further, anger and a wave of past emotions drowning you before you could. You and Henry were together all throughout college. You met during a freshman art class and were inseparable after that. He was tall, sensitive, and had a penchant for listening to country music when he worked, leading to many delirious nights spent crooning to Emmy-Lou Harris together. He surprised you with new paint and spontaneous trips to scenic parts of Texas to fuel your inspiration. You were happy for a long time. You even thought you'd marry him at one point. He wanted to be the next young, groundbreaking artist, making you his muse, no matter how many times you tried to assure him you were also an artist. Your work would go up in galleries and exhibitions, and everyone in your small program would gossip about the two of you. "He's so talented. It's insane," you heard one of your classmates say once. "And she's so beautiful."

The compliment dug under your skin and stayed there as your relationship failed. You didn't want to be a muse anymore. You stopped letting him paint you in various states of undress and started asking for more alone time to work on your own stuff. You went from being the perfect, polished doll he could position however he wanted and started living in your paint-stained jeans and old, ratty shirt. You started arguing more and more, first about little things like why he left his paint water cups everywhere, and then about big things like your decision to pursue teaching and the "inspiration" he found in an impressionable freshman. He suddenly moved out after graduation without a word, leaving you to nurse your wounds in a half-empty apartment for the rest of your lease, and you hadn't heard from him until this morning.

There's something more than the sting of hearing from him all these years later that bothers you. You're a high school art teacher struggling to make ends meet, and he's doing exactly what he set out to do. He's getting his work in front of his eyes and receiving praise for it. "Why do you wanna be a teacher when you can just be an artist?" He asked you one morning as you studied for your certification exams. "Or, at least, an artist's wife."

"And what if I'm not good at that?" You asked. "Then what? I'm just supposed to be your muse for the rest of my life? Have kids to fuel someone else's inspiration and have no time for my own work? Wither away while you go on to make art and give talks and become a cynic? Fuck that."

You stand by what you said, even all these years later, but there is an irony in that, even as a teacher, you don't have time to do your own work. Still, fuck that. The bell rings and signals the end of another class, and you quickly stand as students start packing up their stuff. "Okay, guys. Remember, your art history essay is due in two weeks! I'm excited to read all about everything you've learned since we started this unit. I love you, and please make good choices." You announce, hoping that at least some of them are listening to you, as they spill out of the classroom and the next students stream in. Ellie's sweet face is a welcome reprieve when she walks in.

"Hey Bellie! How's your day going, kiddo?" You ask, and she smiles. You'll swear up and down all day that you don't have favorite students, but if you did, Ellie would be one of them.

"Good. I have my signed permission slip for the art club field trip." She says. After your experience with Joel outside the bar, you couldn't sleep and knocked out all the field trip paperwork before falling asleep on your couch. But you weren't safe from his lips and broad shoulders, even in your subconscious.

"Oh, my hero! I've been meaning to remind everyone about those. Thanks for getting that in so quickly." You say as she hands the paper to you, Joel's scribbly signature at the bottom. Somehow, you're not surprised that the box indicating he wants to be a chaperone is ticked. "Perfect. Your dad knows when the field trip is?"

"Yeah. He wrote it down on his calendar and everything." She says, rolling her eyes fondly, and you laugh.

"Well, good, because I'm gonna need all the help I can get when I'm dealing with you guys."

"Hey!" She feigns offense as the bell rings, signaling the end of the passing period, and the last of your students comes running in. Ellie takes her seat near the front, and you grab your silly, colorful pointer to talk about Guernica, which is still proudly displayed on the board. After a quick art history lesson, you release them to work on the projects they've been working on for a week now. They still have a few more days before it's due, so more than half of them are slacking off quietly, which you're fine with. As long as you get a finished assignment at the end, they can do whatever they want.

You play quiet music as they work to help them focus and answer some emails. One email that catches your attention is from the parent of one of your students, Dalton, who's an amazing football player but is less than passionate about art, to say the least. You emailed his dad to let him know he was missing some assignments and could still turn them in late for only a slight penalty, but if he turns in nothing at all, you'll have no choice but to fail him. You also CC'd the football coach so he'd know the academic standing of one of his star players. Needless to say, you've been subject to a few not-so-nice emails from all parties involved.

Once you're done firing off another round of emails, you decide to step away from your computer so you don't have to see the next reply until absolutely necessary. Walking around the room to answer questions, give opinions, or just hear what's happening in students' lives always makes you feel better. In one period, you helped a handful of students put the finishing touches on their projects, heard the latest gossip, and talked one of your girls out of sending a nasty text to the boy who just broke her heart. And they say teachers aren't important.

The second you get a little bit of peace during your planning period, your phone buzzes with a notification. Given all the notifications and messages you've received today, you're hesitant to even pull it out of your pocket. But curiosity wins, and you open your phone to find a text from an unsaved number.

Is there anything I should bring to the field trip? Snacks, gum, alcohol?

You laugh to yourself and start typing a message back.

Alcohol won't be necessary, but it might be good to bring some lunch and a few snacks. I think we're gonna try to have a picnic or something at the museum.

Yes, ma'am.

You still feeling up to chaperone? Teenagers are no joke.

Do I need to remind you that I've raised two? I think I can handle a few more.

Oh, I can't wait to see this.

It can't be that hard, right?

On the day of the field trip, it turns out to be that hard. The only adults accompanying twenty teenagers to the museum are you and Joel. They're excited to be out of school and doing something new, but you can feel your migraine starting before you even get on the bus. Thankfully, the ride to the museum (and the traffic) calms them down, and they're more manageable by the time you arrive. A curator meets you outside the front doors and begins by walking your group through the outdoor sculptures, giving a little bit of history of the museum and the pieces themselves. The kids ask insightful questions and take turns snapping photos or even sketching a rough outline of the piece before moving on to the next. You stay at the front of the group while Joel manages the middle and back, silencing kids with a stern look. You fight a smile when you catch him and Ellie lingering at a sculpture, whispering to each other before he urges her forward and takes a sweet picture of her smiling in front of it.

After the initial walk of the grounds, you stop to have lunch in a sunny garden and listen to the kids gush about their favorite part so far and what paintings they're most excited to see inside.

"Miss, what's your favorite thing here?" Kayla asks.

"I like Dream Village by Chagall. If you find it before me, you'll have to let me know." You say. "Do you have a favorite?"

"Not yet. Maybe I'll find it today." Kayla says.

"I like that attitude!"

"Kissass." Jacob coughs, and you both give him a look. You can feel Joel's eyes burning a hole in the back of your head as you stare at Jacob.

"What's my policy?"

"Are you really gonna make me say it?"

"Yep." You say, and he sighs.

"You can be anything you want to be, but you're not allowed to be a dick." He mumbles.

"Exactly. So, please, be nice," you say as you fish around in your lunch box for something. "Here, have a cookie. It might help make you feel a little better." He mutters a little thanks and unwraps it, already in a better mood after one bite, and you smile.

"You just carry around cookies, waiting for a kid to be in a bad mood?" Joel asks, and you turn to look at him. He's wearing a plain blue t-shirt and jeans with sunglasses sitting atop his head, but you think it might be your favorite thing he's worn in your presence. You like it when he wears color.

"It was my cookie, but he needs it more than I do," you shrug. "Besides, things like that are a great morale booster. It's hard to be grumpy when you've got something sweet."

"I'm inclined to agree with you." He quips a little too smoothly, his eyes flicking across your face and down to your lips, and you feel your cheeks getting hot. Thankfully, all the kids have returned to their own conversations and couldn't care less about what the Adults are talking about.

"You're relentless." You whisper.

"Do you want me to stop?" He whispers back, and you sigh. If you were a stronger or better person, you might be able to think fast enough to come up with a response, but you're not. So, you just look at him and rack your brain for something to say but come up empty. "That's what I thought." He smiles and offers you his sweating Dr. Pepper can as a peace offering. You roll your eyes at his smug look but take a sip anyway.

Once everyone is done eating, you all stand and make your way into the museum lobby, the kids already chattering about what they want to see.

"Okay, you guys are free to roam but please, please, please remember that you're representing not only the school but also me. Be respectful and kind, and please don't act like you've never been in public before, okay? Go, be free." You say before the kids split off into their little groups with their obligatory activity in hand. Ellie stays near Joel, only a little shy, until Kayla turns around suddenly and waves her on.

"Ellie, c'mon!" She says. Ellie takes a few steps in her direction before turning to look back at Joel.

"Go. I'll be okay." He says.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Now go. Have fun." She doesn't need any more encouragement after that and skitters off with the rest of the kids, leaving you and Joel alone in the atrium.

"She's doing really well." You tell him even though he can clearly see for himself.

"Thanks to you."

"All I did was give her a push."

"Take the credit. You deserve it." He says, his lips pulling into that award-winning smile.

You fall into silence as you walk through the different galleries, Joel never too far behind you. Sometimes, he'll start at the opposite end of the room and work his way down until you meet in the middle, making a deliberate effort to bump your shoulder or hand as he passes. Other times, he'll stay right next to you, and, for some reason, it doesn't bother you. You like being so close to him and feeling his eyes work over the piece like it's a puzzle he doesn't quite know how to work. When he can't stand the quiet anymore, he'll whisper a question to you about the artist or the history, his breathing fanning out across your neck and making the hair there stand on end.

After moving through a big part of the museum together, you and Joel end up at the same painting as the dull hum of voices fills the space between you. You smile to yourself, practically hearing him trying to find something to say as he stands there and observes how the lines of bright colors follow each other. Some are stark and almost resemble lightning in how they move around the canvas, but others are muted, blended together with careful precision and patience. It's hard to imagine what West Texas could've been like in 1953, but this makes it a little easier.

"What's this one supposed to mean?" Joel mumbles, leaning ever so conspicuously into you.

"I can't tell you." You mumble back, and he finally turns to look at you head-on. You meet his eyes with an amused smile, and he shakes his head at you.

"You're really not gonna tell me?"

"I can't tell you what art is supposed to mean to you. I can't tell anyone that."

"But, you're a teacher."

"If you're asking me for an art history lesson, I'd be happy to help, but that's about all I can do for you."

"'S cruel and unusual punishment."

"If art and culture are cruel and unusual punishment, why'd you sign up to chaperone?"

"Maybe I wanted to see my friend," he says, bumping you with his shoulder, and you laugh a little too hard. "What? We can't be friends? Is there a school policy against that, too?"

"Nope, no school policy. I just," You pause and revel in how enraptured he looks at every movement, pause, and breath you take. "I already have friends, so..."

"Oh, and you're 'fraid of bein' too popular?"

"Famously." You say, and he chuckles next to you. You go back to staring at the painting quietly with him so close you can feel his body heat. You're the one to break this time, knocking him with your shoulder to get his attention again. You didn't need to. When you glance at him, you see his focus is on you, not the painting. "It's Texas. Canyon, to be more precise. Up by Amarillo where there's nothing but cattle and desert. O'Keeffe taught out there for a few years and wanted to paint something that showed how big the West is. It's supposed to make you feel like you're two feet tall and seeing the sky for the first time. For her, it might've been the first time in a long time she'd gotten to see a sunset that big. So, she painted it so other people could enjoy sunsets like that. It's like a love letter."

"How d'you do that?" He asks once you're finished explaining, and you furrow your eyebrows.

"Do what?"

"Make little things seem so beautiful." He answers easily, like you asked him what color the sky is. You don't know what to say. What are you supposed to say to something like that?

"'S just what art does." You shrug and break away from his gaze to look at the painting, if only to not feel him staring into your soul.

"No, it's what you do to it. 'S why those kids love you so damn much. You make everythin' feel like a masterpiece, even the little things." He's not flirting. He's not trying to persuade you to do one thing over another. He's genuine and heartfelt. You swear you would start crying if you had a little less sleep. You take a deep breath and lean into him for half a second, just enough to feel his body against yours, before standing upright again.

"Thank you."

"It's what friends are for," he says, leaning into you in return. "I should make sure they haven't seized the museum or anythin'."

"Oh, I can do it. You're a guest."

"And you work too hard," he stops you. "Take a break and enjoy what you love. The world won't end if you take some time for yourself." If ever there were awards to be given out for sweet talking, you think Joel Miller would win all of them.

"Okay," you say, and he walks behind you to move on to the next section. "You really wanna be my friend?" You ask before he can fully pass behind you, looking at him over your shoulder. He smiles devastatingly, light sparkling in his eyes, and nods.

"I really wanna be your friend." He says softly, his voice low and rumbling in his chest. He lingers for a second or two before finally making his way to the group of students, leaving you to scrutinize the painting you've been staring at for God knows how long.

The day crawls to an uneventful close, with you forcing all the students to take a picture in front of the museum for the yearbook. Joel takes your phone out of your hand and all but pushes you in the photo, and your students lovingly welcome you into their little group. In exchange, you grab Joel's phone and take cute pictures of him and Ellie for their own memories. They smile almost identically, and Ellie makes a fake annoyed face when Joel kisses her temple. Your fingers brush against each other when you hand it back, and for a second, you can feel the callouses from his job. It feels like unlocking a new piece of him or a new quirk.

Too bad this isn't a date. Too bad nothing can ever come of this. Too bad you had to meet this way. Too bad. Too bad.

The ride home is quiet and full of the clinking of backpacks and new souvenirs. When you get to the school, parents are waiting in the parking lot with fast food dinners and excited ears to hear all about their days. Almost everyone immediately slinks home, tired and happy, before you can even get close to the school doors. Almost everyone. Joel and Ellie help you carry your backpack and some things you bought for teaching purposes at the museum into your classroom. The school is virtually deserted, and you return to your room to find all the lamps flipped off and mostly positive notes from the sub.

"Dad, what are we gonna do for dinner?" Ellie groans as you sit in your chair and open your email quickly before you can pack up the rest of your stuff. Their dinner debate becomes background noise as you find your inbox full of annoyed messages from Dalton's parents, coaches, and even Principal Martinez regarding his grades. Under all that vitriol sits Henry's half-read message about his gallery opening, and you feel the perfect bubble of your day burst around you. Joel and Ellie seem to realize it because they're both quiet when you tune back into their conversation, and you turn in your chair to look at them.

"Are you okay?" Ellie asks, and you snap out of it, putting on your best teacher everything-is-fine face.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just some emails. It's not important." You wave her off, but Joel isn't so easily convinced. He thinks for a second before pulling his keys out of his pocket and handing them to Ellie.

"Go get some practice driving." He says, jerking his head toward the door, and Ellie's eyes light up.

"Really?!"

"Just bring the car to the front, and don't hit anything!" He says, but she's already taken off with the keys and her stuff in an excited whirlwind. You laugh at her enthusiasm, and Joel leans against one of the desks near you, crossing his arms in front of him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Your whole face fell when you opened that computer."

"It's nothing."

"If we're gonna be friends, you're gonna have to tell me if somethin's wrong otherwise I can't help you." He says, and you fight a smile.

"I don't know how you're gonna help me with this one." You say. He bumps your foot with his and gives you a pleading look. Big brown eyes on men like him should be illegal, you think.

"Talk to me." He begs quietly, and you take a deep breath.

"When I was in college, I dated this guy. He was an artist, too, and we were like the little power couple of our program. Things ended kinda badly and abruptly, and I hadn't heard from him since graduation until last week when he invited me to his gallery opening. I really don't want to go alone because, honestly, I haven't been able to get anything showcased in years, and I'm embarrassed. Plus, he broke my heart and made me feel like shit for a few years." You can't stop the words from falling from you once the dam is broken, but Joel doesn't flinch.

"Well, you've got friends to go with, right?"

"I do," you say. "But I want to invite you."

"Oh." He says, seemingly unintentionally.

"Oh." You repeat. "You can say no. I just thought... since we're friends and all now."

"I just... I don't..." he struggles before finally giving in to what he wants to say, what you think he's wanted to say all day. "I don't think I'm smart enough to go to somethin' like that. I don't know anythin' about art. I don't even know how to dress for those kinda things."

"Nobody knows anything about art. Not really, at least. Especially not Henry."

"You do."

"Then I'll stick with you all night and feed you lines about composition or some shit," you say. "And you just wear a nice shirt and some slacks. Maybe a suit jacket if you're feeling snazzy. It's really not as big a deal as people make it seem. We'll go, drink wine, say something about the colors, play nice, and then we'll leave. I'll have you home by 9:30. Earlier if you really hate it that much." He rolls his neck like he's rattling something around in his head or thinking about your offer, and all you can do is watch him and the way his Adam's apple pressing against the delicate skin of his throat. You're convinced he's gonna say no.

"Are you asking me on a date?" He finally asks, and you laugh.

"Not a date."

"Sounds like a date. You even promised to have me home to my girl at a reasonable time."

"Fine, it's a friend date."

"A friend date?" He raises his eyebrows at you, and you nod.

"It's perfectly normal to go on friend dates, Miller. You're just behind on the times."

"Seems like I am. Maybe you can bring me up to speed during the gallery opening?" He says, and your shoulders drop in relief. "I'll pick you up if you agree to help me not look like an idiot."

"You won't look like an idiot."

"Not with you there, I won't." He says, and you want to laugh, but you also want to tear up a little at his kindness. It's been a long week.

"Thank you, Joel. Really. I owe you." You say, and he nods.

"'S my pleasure," he says. For a minute, you two just stare at each other in your empty classroom like teenagers with an obvious crush. You think that's what you feel like. You think that's all you'll ever be able to feel for him. "I should go. I've got an impatient teenager waitin' for me."

"Yeah. Go get her some dinner, and I'll text you the details." You say as you stand to walk him out. He stands to his full height, opens his arms, and approaches you. You didn't think you were hugging territory, but as his arms wrapped around you, you couldn't help but hug him back.

"Goodnight." He says into your hair, lingering for another moment before disappearing as fast as he appeared.

"Goodnight," you say. With that, he starts walking to the open door with a smile stuck to his face. "Hey, Joel," you call before he can step over the threshold, and he turns around to look at you. "Art is for everyone, and even if it wasn't, you're more than smart enough to enjoy it."

"Yes, ma'am." He says with a half-salute and a wink before stepping out of your classroom. You let yourself rest against your desk and take a deep breath. Finally, you let yourself pull out your phone and read the rest of Henry's email detailing the time and place of the gallery.

I hope you can come. It would really mean a lot to me. I miss talking to you and even though things ended the way they did, I still love you.

See you soon,

Henry Hall

"Fuck that."

TAGLISR: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk

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cilil · 1 month

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Eönwë Week - Day 7: Freeform - Etymology

AN: So I promised to compile this a while ago and finally got to it. Enjoy!

Today's topic: A possible etymology and Valarin version for Eönwë (idea dump)

𓅛 The meaning of the name "Eönwë" is unfortunately unknown. The only thing we know for certain is the suffix "-wë", as it also occurs in many other names, which means simply person, being or individual. Fun fact: While it's generally masculine, it's not exclusively so, the main example being Elenwë.

𓅛 Before receiving the name Eönwë, he was known as Fionwë. For Fionwë we do have a meaning: "Fion" is glossed as hawk and/or haste, which I'm sure has many of you thinking "oh yeah that fits" right now and I agree.

𓅛 So we find ourselves in a bit of a weird spot where we have an old name that fits and gives us an idea what it could have been about and a new name without a clear meaning. I have a few ideas how to solve this, but please keep in mind that I'm not trying to do completely accurate and squeaky clean linguistics here, I'll be sticking to ideas and headcanons while trying to do my best to find something that makes at least a bit of sense. Alright? Alright.

𓅛 According to War of the Jewels, Eönwë's name was apparently adapted from Valarin (which, given how close the known Valarin names are to their Quenyan counterparts and how Quenya even borrows some names from Valarin, is not surprising). Therefore, my first idea was that perhaps the meaning of Fionwë ("hawk-person", "haste-person") still applies, but whatever the Valarin word it comes from is just slightly different (has an e instead of an i). Someone would then have to come up the Valarin word in question (and it won't be me, at least for now >:D).

𓅛 My second idea was that "fion" and "-wë" are just two elements of the name, with an additional third element conveyed in the "e". There are various things you could "shove" in there, but one idea I'm currently liking is that it's tied to "ea" (existing, being) or "ëala" (being, spirit (non-incarnate), the general term for Ainurin souls). This would correspond with my headcanon that Eönwë was the first Maia to be born/created and the meaning would be "haste/hawk spirit being" (loosely translating).

𓅛 Another alternative I found during my research is "ëa"/"ëaren" (eagle) which could also be cool, though I suppose in that case it'd be better to read "fion" as haste rather than hawk because having two bird species in one name would be a bit weird. The meaning would then be "hasty eagle person" (again, translating somewhat loosely).

𓅛 Funnily enough, I found coming up with an idea what Eönwë's Valarin name could be easier than putting all of the above together. Since we know so little about Valarin, this will once again be guesswork and ideas.

𓅛 Conveniently, we have half of his name thanks to Manwë -> Mānawenūz, if we take it that "-wenūz" is the general Valarin version of "-wë" (and not an isolated instance of this particular name being that way).

𓅛 If we then see how "man-" simply becomes "mana-" and observe the trend of Valarin words having additional syllables with vowels compared to their Quenyan counterparts, such as:

ayanūz -> Ainu iniðil -> indil (lily)

An easy solution would then be Eōnowenūz.

(I have admittedly not yet dared to take all the words above that I suggested could be part of his etymology, attempt to translate them all into Valarin and see if everything would still fit (more or less), but if I'm really bored one day I might.)

So yeah, these are just some ideas and stuff I dug up, please don't take it as absolute fact or gospel and I hope it was interesting or at least entertaining to see me flail around trying to make sense of that poor man's name. Feel free to let this inspire you and make use of my findings, just be a dear and give me a cute little shout out if you do :)

taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @blauerregen @bluezenzennie @edensrose

@elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @singleteapot

@stormchaser819 @urwendii @wandererindreams @eonweweek

#eonweweek #eonwe #eönwë #headcanons #meta #etymology #ideas #maiar #ainur #valarin my beloathed

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ahungeringknife · 1 year

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365 May 3-6

After a point Desmond just came to the understanding that his life was weird and he really didn't feel like arguing with it anymore. Coming back from the dead? Near death? Limbo? Whatever did that to a person. He was so beyond his life throwing arguably impossible shit at him.

"I'm home," he said looking at the living room of his apartment that absolutely should not fit as many people in it as it did. And yet.

The first week it'd happened he was sure he was having a new mental break down. But no. That'd have been a reasonable explanation for a bunch of murderers showing up at his door looking like people out of a ren fair. He didn't know why they were there. They didn't know why they were there. When Desmond asked they just grabbed his blackened hand or arm. They were drawn to it. Somehow? For some reason?

Seven languages all roughly saying, "Welcome back," came in a chorus. They could all understand him at least. Whatever fucked up magic or whatever had given him that at least so he didn't have to sift through seven different tongues in his head to pull out the one he wanted.

"I brought bread," he said which got everyone interested. He didn't anticipate people from previous centuries to be picky eaters but they absolutely were. And that didn't even cover Ezio's insanely high standards for olive oil, which he basically drank. But everyone ate bread. Thank god. He always had to go down a few blocks for an actual bakery because of course they wouldn't eat store bread. The bakery knew him on sight now since he'd been going there every other day for a month and bought the exact same arrangement of bread. When they saw him coming in they just packed up his order for him.

"Everyone get their shit done while I was gone?" he asked amid some talking. Some of them could communicate but it was a near thing. Some of them even spoke English, which was cool.

"It was boring, but yes," Ezio said.

"Good. Who wants to make dinner?" Desmond asked, going into the kitchen and taking the bread out.

"Everyone stop looking at me," Evie said. "Just because I'm a woman."

Desmond didn't engage while Jacob was defending his sister's honor, or whatever. After a bit of bickering he called out, "Fine then we're all going to be unhappy and Altair will cook." There was some groaning.

"Fools," Altair said and Desmond was the only one who understood. He got up from where he was sitting on the floor and entered the little kitchen with Desmond. "My cooking isn't that bad... now," he added. Altair, like the rest of them, were not how Desmond remembered them from the memories as mostly wild and blood thirsty twenty-somethings. They were all older. In their thirties or forties. It was still weird seeing Altair in a beard. At least he wore it better than Ezio.

"Yeah you don't burn my pans now," Desmond said. Desmond still helped him figure out what to do. They all knew how to use the appliances by now but other than Connor, Bayek, and Evie none of them had ever had to cook for themselves until they'd shown up in Desmond's life. But like good Assassins they all took to instruction quickly and Desmond just had to tell them what to do and they figured it out.

"How much longer are we staying here?" Arno had come around to the kitchen while Altair was cutting onions with freakish laser precision. Desmond wasn't sure Altair couldn't understand French but he always acted like he couldn't so he didn't push it.

"I dunno. Until you guys fucking leave?" Desmond said. Who knew when that would be. Who knew why that would be or how!

Arno gave him an annoyed look. "I know that. But this is unsustainable," he motioned to the living room which had all the furniture shoved into the corners to make enough room for everyone to sleep. Desmond's bedroom also had some sleeping space on the floor. "Even at our lowest this is too much."

"Well if I want to break my lease I need to pay a fee. And then I have to find a new place that I can afford. And if you guys all fucking vanish one day I'm going to be in a big place all by myself unable to pay. I don't mind having roommates from former head mates but actual normal people? I'd rather die."

"That can be arranged," Altair said behind him.

"Shut it, you," Desmond frowned at him but Altair wasn't even looking at him.

Arno was also frowning. "Well perhaps it would be more useful if we put our minds to figuring out what happened to bring us here instead of what you have us doing."

"If you want to go ahead but I can't afford to feed someone who isn't helping," Desmond said, folding his arms. Because magic that they could all understand his spoken English they could also understand written English. Desmond had found all of them some reasonable paying translation gig work. Desmond knew they all hated it but also had no idea what to do in this century, let alone how to cross a street without almost being run over by a car.

Arno also folded his arms and mirroring Desmond. "I am not a stranger to hardship. But I'm tired of waking up with someone's feet in my face. Also Jacob snores; loudly," he put a pained look on his face.

Desmond grimaced. He could sympathize. Before he could keep going with Jacob Altair tugged his sleeve. He turned around. "Is this right?" and it was still so baffling hearing a hard ass like Altair ask him something so kindly.

Desmond looked over the chopped vegetables Altair had in the pan. He'd added raisins. Always with the fucking raisins with Altair. "Looks fine. Don't cook it too long or it'll turn to mush." He turned back to Jacob. "Look I'm not unsympathetic. I just don't know what to do myself," he said.

"Can we help you? Clearly we're supposed to be here? So we should help you."

Desmond sighed, "I would love that but none of you know how to use a computer."

"... A what?"

"Exactly."

"Is that the little glass tablet you carry around with you?" Arno asked.

"Yes."

Arno looked conflicted. "It seems... confusing but I'm willing to figure it out if it gets me into an actual bed."

"Fine," Desmond said and already knew it was going to give him a headache. "This weekend when I'm free."

Arno smiled. "Great," and he walked off.

Desmond sighed dramatically. "Punk," Altair grumbled, or about as close an approximation as Desmond could translate out.

"I knew you could speak French," and Desmond punched his arm.

"My wife is French, of course I can," Altair said with a grunt. "His accent is so snooty. I hate it."

"He's Parisian," Desmond said.

"No wonder he sounds like a prick," Altair grumbled and Desmond laughed.

--------

Having seven people crowding your space while trying to use your laptop was... something. It sure was something. Somehow they all managed to perch around him without getting in each other's way too and were all staring intently at the screen. Desmond had been talking to them, very slowly, for about three hours now explaining how a computer worked. He typically had all their translation work printed out and then on his days off typed it all into the programs or emails for the clients.

Surprisingly the one who seemed to understand it the best were the two old guys Altair and Bayek. Bayek was especially insane because he was from before the common era. Like the numbers ticked down on the grand time line of human civilization from where Bayek was from. Desmond wasn't particularly surprised by Altair who'd had his head in the future through the Apple for decades. That didn't mean either of them were good at it but they asked the least questions when he asked if they understood.

"I think that's about as much as I can just explain. You have to try it now. Who wants a go?" Desmond asked. He expected Arno to immediately volunteer. Hadn't he been the one excited to help him find a new apartment?

"I do," Bayek said.

"Weren't they still playing with sticks and rocks in your time?" Jacob asked, not knowing what Bayek was saying but getting the idea. Evie smacked his arm, hard, making him complain.

"Sit," Bayek sat. "It's light, hold onto the keyboard area so it doesn't fall off your lap," Desmond said and put the laptop on Bayek's crossed legs. There was a moment of confusion as Bayek figured out how to use the touch pad but then he got it. "I'm surprised you're at all good with this," Desmond said casually.

His answer absolutely floored Desmond. "This is nothing compared to the Isu ruins." Desmond hadn't personally lived through Bayek but he'd been told the story. Bayek was really good at telling stories. "That is actual confusing shit."

"What'd he say?" Ezio asked.

"He said it's nothing compared to Those Who Came Before," he said. "Didn't know Egypt had that sort of tech involvement with the Isu," he said thoughtfully.

"Ask him if it's as easy as it appeared when you did it," Arno said.

Desmond did and relayed it back while Bayek was clicking around on the computer and internet. "He said it's like reading a scroll where the words and pictures move with your thoughts."

"How poetic," Arno said.

"I also wanna try," Evie said.

"Yes, and I," Ezio said.

"Give him a few minutes," Desmond said.

"The keyboard is... confusing. I know what these letters mean but their arrangement is-- quite stupid," Bayek said.

"Yeah, basically," Desmond agreed.

"It also hurts my eyes."

"Yeap. It'll do that too," and he took the laptop back. Then Evie got to mess around with it while Bayek rubbed his eyes. He hadn't blinked the entire time. Then it was Ezio's turn once she'd had a go at it.

"Is there a way to see these mmm- webbed sites in Italian?" Ezio asked.

"Sort of? Just type into the text box in Italian. It should pull up Italian sites."

Watching Ezio pick and poke through what he wanted to ask Google was excruciating. "Ha! Italian," and he scrolled through the search results. Desmond leaned over to see what he was looking at.

"Hey!" Desmond snatched the laptop away. He switched into Italian himself to scold him and god he sounded a lot like Claudia by the way Ezio wilted. "Don't look up boobs on my fucking laptop. Of course I leave you alone for a minute and you're trying to see some tits. What are you? Seventeen again?"

He was going to have to put child locks or something on this thing so these Assassins didn't give his laptop a fucking virus looking up porn. "What can I say. I'm a man of simple pleasures?" Ezio said with a wry grin.

"Banned," Desmond pointed at him in annoyance.

He let everyone try out the laptop. No one was as taken with it as Bayek and Connor somehow almost broke it. Arno at least came away from the lesson and hands on part being slightly confidant in using it. Everyone also complained it hurt their eyes. Because none of them blinked while using the laptop. Blue light was hell of a thing.

They dispersed after that. Bayek, who still sat next to him, said, "Can you show me more things?"

"Sure? Like what?"

"I want to know what happened to Egypt," he said. "And the Romans. And the Greeks. Are they still around?"

"Well Ezio is what you could call Roman," Desmond said slowly. "He lived in Rome, the city, for a while."

"Is Rome no longer an empire?"

Desmond chuckled, "Buddy, they wish."

"... I would like to see what made Rome fall," he said, not in a sad way but rather he was very interested. "And what happened to Julius," his eyes narrowed.

"You're going to love what happened to Cesare," Desmond said and pulled up some wikipedia articles. He showed Bayek how to navigate the site, what the colors meant, what the little numbers next to words meant, and the sources at the bottom. After that Bayek was glued to it. "And make sure you blink," Desmond added. Bayek nodded.

Desmond got off the couch and wandered into his room, flopping down onto his bed. That had taken so long. He picked up his phone and looked at it. It was only mid afternoon. He had a few missed texts. It looked like they were from work. He ignored them. He wasn't paid enough to answer texts on his day off.

----

Desmond was used to being watched at this point even if he couldn't see them. Didn't bother him. This time when he looked across the Goodwill it was Jacob staring right at him looking like he was dying while Evie was trying to find some clothes. Seemed that even after a few hundred years brothers still would rather die than shop with their sisters. He chuckled to himself and went back to ignoring him.

Desmond was more concerned with convincing Bayek and Connor that no they couldn't just walk around shirtless or tank tops all the time.

"But it will get in the way of my movement," Bayek said about the long sleeved shirt Desmond was trying to get him in. It was summer so was pretty warm and Bayek had never existed in any sort of cold weather in his life. His logic was sound for Egypt.

"Yeah but you can't enter most stores without a shirt, dude," Desmond said. Connor was more accepting of full shirts having grown up around Westerners but Desmond remembered being in his head. He always felt too big for in his clothes. Especially Achilles' old uniform that he'd nearly ripped several times from just how thick his arms were.

"But it's hot out. We don't need sleeves until later in the year," Connor said.

"What'd he say?" Bayek asked and Desmond repeated it. Honestly a lot of the time he was just repeating what everyone said so any two of them could hold a conversation. "Why would the time of year matter?"

"Winter?"

"... What is that?"

Desmond pinched the bridge of his nose. "Think like the flood season but instead it gets cold."

"It would get cold in Egypt sometimes," Bayek said.

"No like water turns into ice," Desmond explained.

"But it's not like that now? And there's so much clothes here surely I won't want for them," Bayek said. Everyone had been pretty stunned when Desmond had brought them to Goodwill and it was just filled with more clothes than any of them had seen in one place.

"In winter cold weather clothes tend to go quick," Desmond said.

"Hmm-

"Desmond," he looked over at Evie's voice as she came through the aisle. Jacob was sulking a ways away.

"Sup."

"My brother is useless as ever. I need input on these modern clothes," she said.

"Sure."

Evie showed him two shirts. They looked pretty nice and were fairly subdued, which he expected. One was a feathery blouse, the other was a thin sweater. They complimented her skin color. Desmond didn't know a lot about fashion but he'd seen enough women come into a bar to know what was good. "Which one?"

"I like them both," Desmond said.

"That is not helpful," she said.

Desmond reached over and grabbed the tags. They were both five bucks each. "Do you like them?"

"Yes."

"Then you can get both-

"What?" she asked, confused. "But these are so fancy and high quality," she said. Desmond knew the Industrial Revolution had been going on during Evie's time but fast fashion was a hell of a thing.

"It's fine, they're just a few dollars-

"That's expensive! Are you sure?" she asked.

He chuckled. "Yeah. If you like them we can get them. Make sure you find some bottoms you like too to match."

"Are you really sure?" she asked.

"Yes. And tell your brother to stop looking like a creep and pick out some clothes too," Desmond said.

She rolled her eyes. "He knows no other way. But yes, thank you," she held the clothes to her and walked off.

"Those are expensive though, are you sure?" Connor asked. He understood modern money better than Bayek who was ignoring them and looking at clothes.

"It's about the equivalent of fifteen cents," Desmond said, knowing Connor would understand that.

"Oh! Really?"

"Yeah. Inflation is hell of a thing-- don't worry about it, it's economics," he told Connor who just looked so confused.

"I think I like this one," Bayek said and Desmond sighed when he pulled out the most Dad shirt he could have found. It was a tie die tank top. "Finally something brightly colored. This time is so drab," he scoffed. The worst part was Desmond knew he'd absolutely wear it.

"Okay," Desmond said, defeated. Then he groaned at the sound of some very angry Arabic a few rows over. "Now what?" he looked and saw Ezio harassing Altair about... something? "Excuse me. Before Altair kills his biggest fan boy," Desmond said. "Find a shirt that fits you, Connor," he told Connor and went over to where Altair very nearly had his hands on Ezio's neck.

Desmond easily slotted himself between the two of them. "What's this about?" he asked.

"Ezio says I dress like a woman," Altair pointed at Ezio furiously.

"... What? Also how do you know what he's saying?"

"He's just speaking a different version of Latin," Altair said. "That isn't the point!"

Desmond turned to Ezio. "Did you say he's dressing like a girl?"

"I said he'd look like a fancy lady with his dress," Ezio said and yeah Desmond got why Altair was about to kill him.

"Take like twenty steps back while I defuse this bomb you made," Desmond told Ezio.

"I resent that," Altair growled at him.

Ezio did step back and Desmond turned around to him. "So what did he get you about?" Altair raised a shapeless dress that was very much a dress but it was also shaped like a thobe which was traditionally exactly what an old guy like Altair would wear. "Looks like a thobe to me," Desmond said, realizing what Altair was going for.

"Yes. That's what I tried to tell him."

"But it's a dress too."

"So?"

"Look I don't care," Desmond raised his hands before Altair bit his head off. "You'll get looks if you wear that though and I know you hate being perceived." Altair grimaced at that. "If you want a thobe I'll order you one or find one at a Middle East bodega or something but you should just find some pants and a shirt." Altair huffed in annoyance. "Yeah I know, you hate rules. Get over it," Desmond rolled his eyes.

"I am more annoyed you know me better than myself at times," Altair grumbled, arms folded. "Same as the rest."

"Trust me I really wish I didn't. Either way, we can still get it if you want but I would suggest pants."

"Fine," Altair huffed.

"Connor, Connor," he heard Bayek calling from the end of the aisle. At the least that was something they could do. Desmond watched Connor join Bayek down the aisle and Bayek triumphantly held up an old sleeveless Laker's jersey. Desmond snickered imagining Connor's face of horror at the yellow and purple monstrosity. Connor for his part waved his hands like he didn't want it.

An hour or so later Desmond was finally in line for check out with the others. Evie had taken what he'd said to heart and found a bunch of stuff but everyone else was still too stunned by the variety to pick more than three or four pieces. The cashier was pleasant and had clearly seen weirder shit than a guy like Desmond shepherding a bunch of adults forward to have their clothes rung up and then put into individual bags. The total wasn't even that bad for buying clothes for seven people. The more modern Assassins still gasped or gagged at the price but Desmond didn't flinch at the hundred and seventy dollar price tag.

"That had to be wrong," Connor said once they were leaving.

"What was?" Desmond asked.

"The price-

"You said not to worry. That was a fortune!" Evie cried.

"It was like five dollars," Desmond said.

"That's not what the cash register said," Evie insisted.

"It's the equivalent of five dollars," Desmond rolled his eyes.

"Seriously?" Jacob asked.

"Yes. Seriously."

"That's still a lot of money," Arno said.

"For seven people buying clothes that is a steal. I've seen people buy a single shirt for five dollars," and he chuckled when Evie, Jacob, Arno, and Connor looked appropriately disgusted. Bayek, Ezio, and Altair just looked confused.

"Are these dollars worth a lot?" Ezio asked as they walked down the sidewalk.

"I do not have the brain power to convert to florins," Desmond groaned. "Or dinars or deben across like a thousand plus years okay?" he asked. "Like a shilling?"

"Ah," Ezio nodded.

"If you aren't worried about it neither am I," Bayek said.

"Sounds like a bunch of poor people to me," Altair said, specifically in Latin.

"I would agree," Ezio said absently. Desmond slapped his hand over his face.

"I wasn't poor. That's still a lot," Arno said in something recognizing Latin. Both Ezio and Altair laughed at him. "What?"

"Your accent," Desmond said.

"What of it?"

"Sounds like he's talking without moving his lips," Ezio chuckled. "Open your mouth when you speak," he said loudly. "Or speak with your hands. I can understand you better if you do," and he did indeed wave one hand while talking.

"Can we not do this?" Desmond groaned as they got to the parking lot. He'd rented an actual van for the day just to avoid public transport. He'd gotten them all on a bus or subway individually as they'd appeared but he didn't want to have to watch all of them at once on a subway. He knew somehow, someway, someone would get lost and he didn't want to hunt down an Assassin in a big city. Especially not these guys who could be... a bit stab happy if you bothered them too much. Well except Connor.

They all loaded into the van and Desmond reached into the center console to grab the single dose of pain killers he'd made sure to bring with him. Because he knew and had been right; by the end of this shopping trip he could feel the start of a headache. "Okay everyone buckled in?" Desmond turned around once he'd taken the pain killer. There was still some confusion about buckles for Bayek but Jacob had gotten it for him. They all gave him a thumbs up to cut down on the cacophony. "Great. Who wants lunch?" More thumbs up. "How about McDonalds?"

"What's that?" Jacob asked.

Desmond chuckled. "You'll see," he said and backed the car out of the parking spot and drove off from Goodwill.

-----------------

Desmond was looking over rental listings drinking his morning coffee in bed. Altair and Bayek were both on a blow up mattress on the floor. He'd bought a few over the past month but there was still only so much room. It was going to be so expensive to move. Thankfully now that everyone could operate the laptop or tablet now they could input their own gig work so could do more so long as they weren't blinded by boredom. A single bedroom apartment wasn't enough for eight full grown adults.

There wasn't much reasonable in the city itself but outside the city he could rent a full house. That was doable. And about as expensive as his current apartment actually. He scrolled listings on his phone but did consider just picking a neighborhood outside of the city and calling a realtor to find him a rental house. He didn't even care what it was.

He knew it was light out because Bayek woke up. He was punctual and even with the curtains over the windows Bayek always woke up at dawn. He sat up blearily. "Coffee?" it was the one English word he could say because the word didn't exist in any language he knew. It wouldn't have been invented for another sixteen hundred years for him. Didn't mean he hadn't immediately become addicted just like everyone else.

"Full pot in the kitchen," Desmond said, sipping his mug.

Bayek got off the inflatable gingerly and left the room. Desmond didn't have the heart to tell him no matter how careful he was about it Altair always woke up after he left. On the bed Altair huffed, awake now as well. "You could just go back to sleep," Desmond said.

"No," Altair said softly and that tracked. He sat up. "Do you ever worry?"

"I grew up in the twenty first century, my entire body is just made out of anxiety," Desmond said.

Altair grimaced. "I mean why we're here?"

"Nope."

"Really?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"After the shit I've seen this isn't even the worst of it," Desmond said, sipping his coffee, barely paying attention to Altair.

"How is that possible?"

Desmond looked at him now. "I died, you know," he said casually, like discussing the weather. The only indication that had actually happened was his left arm was fucked up beyond belief. "And coming back from death? Nothing really bothers you," he shrugged. "Certainly not some old head mates."

"Which you won't tell us what that means," Altair said.

Desmond shrugged. "Better that way."

"So you really don't care? Why we're here? Where we came from?"

"Not even a little," Desmond was done looking at rentals. He'd just call a realtor, get them to find him a three bed two and a half bath with a yard. He switched over to Twitter. Perfect turn your brain off activity.

They sat in the dark quiet of Desmond's room for a bit. "What's it like, being dead?" Altair asked after a few minutes. Desmond didn't answer him. "Desmond?" he looked over because Altair's voice was close. He had moved to be next to Desmond's bed.

"You should know what death is like, you've killed more people than me," Desmond said off handedly.

"I've sent people to the afterlife. I've never been to one. The others have grand Catholic ideas. Bayek said he fought gods in his afterlife. But you've died. What's that like?"

"Nothing," was all Desmond said.

"It was nothing?"

"Sure. We'll go with that."

Altair scowled at him. "You're being annoyingly obtuse, young man," he growled.

Desmond looked right at him. "Don't with me," he said in a serious way. It must have been plain on his face because Altair didn't press the subject.

Light spilled in from the living room when Bayek opened the door but it was Ezio behind him who spoke up, "Desmond, Jacob drank all the coffee and there's no more left."

"I made a pot. How'd he drink an entire pot?" Desmond groaned. "Also I know you idiots know how to use the coffee machine."

"No powder," Bayek said in his Dad tie dye tank top.

Desmond sighed. "Okay I'll go to the store," he got out of bed and rummaged around for some pants. Ezio and Bayek left the doorway. "Jacob," he yelled into the main room, "you're coming with me for drinking all the coffee."

"I didn't do shit!" Jacob yelled back.

"You better be dressed when I get out there or I'm dragging your ass to the corner store in your skivies!" and it was a real threat. Desmond changed his shirt and his dead beat dad would have been so proud of him tucking his long sleeved shirt in all the time now. He didn't like it rising up when he lifted his arm, you could see the death damage on his flank too, horrible thick black veins and old burst capillaries. He also always wore a glove now.

Jacob was fuming standing in the living room when Desmond came out of the bedroom but he was fully dressed. The inflatable mattresses had been put away already and the only person with coffee was Bayek since he'd woken up first. "I didn't even drink it all," Jacob complained. "Ezio just says whatever he wants and you believe it."

"Contrary to what he thinks its because the guy can't lie to save his life. Least of all to me," Desmond said. "Now stop complaining," he pulled on his shoes.

When he opened the door to walk out he almost bumped into someone. It was a woman. She was tall for a woman with ash brown hair and old eyes wearing an insanely sharp pant suit. "Veronica?" Jacob said next to him.

"Jacob?" she said with an accent Desmond couldn't place.

"Holy shit what are you doing here?" Jacob asked.

The woman, Veronica?, looked at Desmond, then at Jacob, "That's my question." She looked over Desmond's shoulder then back at Desmond, her eyes wide in an expression just from the way she held herself Desmond took as she wasn't surprised easily. "What are they doing here?"

"Uh... they're my friends?" Desmond said, confused by the line of questioning also who the fuck was this lady? For a moment he thought she was like the others but there was no befuddlement to her, no wide eyed bewilderment. They'd all appeared looking out of time and place. She was not. She was something else.

"Who's at the door?" Ezio came around. "Ah? Maria?" he asked.

"You also recognize her?" Desmond asked.

"That's Veronica," Jacob said. Now the others were coming around.

Desmond looked at the woman who was looking right back. "You also shouldn't be here," she said and it stuck him right in the chest.

"Well that's rude," Evie said. "Don't be mean to our friend, Veronica."

"Do you all recognize this lady?" Desmond asked the Assassins and stepped back into his apartment. He felt better being surrounded by them. Whoever or whatever she was wouldn't be able to fight off seven Master Assassins.

"Of course."

"She was our friend."

"She helped me."

"She knew my father."

"She helped me complete my mission."

They all said almost at once. What the actual fuck? He'd never seen this lady in any of the memories he had but apparently they all knew her. She was a friend. They all knew her by a different name though. "What are you doing here, Melite?" Altair was the only one asking a serious question.

The woman just sort of smiled apologetically. "My name is Kassandra actually," she said. Then she looked at Desmond. "I think we need to talk."

---------

And… that’s it lol Oops sorry If you want to see other scenes maybe suggest some? We should talk about it

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