#he's so clingy lol

[miktoast]

nother photo of toothless cause its been a while

[starry-bi-sky]

I saw a post a few months ago (and damn was it really months? In PLURAL?) that was a cracky dpxdc au where the LOS were making Damian clones but the clones kept getting snatched by ghost portals and dropped into Danny’s lap and Danny just goes “ok ig this is my life now” and takes care of each one until he has his own mini army of Damian Clones.

And I remembered it a few days ago, and now I've been thinking about it again. Because I love clone aus (see: clone danny au, the 'danny is thomas wayne' au) because it itches the part of my mind that loves exploring personhood and the exploration of identity and what it means to be clone.

(What do you do when nothing about you is unique? When your face, your eyes, your hands, your hair, your voice, all the way down to your heart, all belong to someone else?)

(When it comes to nature vs nurture what of you came from your environment and your experiences, and what of you was already programmed into you from the DNA that made you?)

(What do you do to make it unique? What do you do to make you unique?)

And if I could remember who made that post I'd @ them right now because it was their original post that inspired this, but I'm just thinking of if the au only had One Singular Damian clone that fell into Danny's life.

(a read more because im apparently incapable of making posts that are less than 1k words...)

One Damian who knew he was a clone and knew that he was to either bring the original back to base or kill him to take his place, who was being trained the same way but kept getting compared to his original over and over again. Like an older sibling who you can never match up to. Who is still a child who craves adult affection and validation and praise, and can't get it because nothing about him is original.

One Damian who, at six years old, in a twist of fate is sucked through a swirling portal and lands in Amity Park, directly on top of, in front of, or in line of sight of one Daniel Fenton, half-ghost extraordinaire and local hero.

What happens next?

Well, for one, Danny recognizes him immediately. He would recognize the face of Damian Wayne anywhere because his best friend was ranting about him all week about Damian Wayne's environmental stuff he does.

And for two, he would recognize that the Damian Wayne in front of him was not Damian Wayne. Because Damian Wayne was a teenager. And the Damian Wayne in front of him is a child. Six years old.

Getting this not-Damian but also-Damian to go along with Danny is not, not an easy task. The tiny Damian is aggressive, regal, and at this point in time, six years old, barely understanding english. He also has a sword.

It takes all day and a google translator to get this Tiny Damian to finally agree to go home with Danny. It's a miracle. Seriously. A tried and true miracle. And its also only when Danny has to fight a ghost does he finally agree, saying something in arabic that Danny doesn't understand.

Danny flies them both home, carrying Tiny Damian like a koala. The ensuing conversation in his room is not any better. It is tiring, long, and exhausting. Tiny Damian is six years old, and every single thing he says when Danny asks where he came from is met with a poorly translated "that's classified".

Danny keeps an eye on the news. There are no reports of Damian Wayne going missing, in fact he's been rather public. Bruce Wayne is not one to lie about his children going missing, and Damian's secretive behavior and young age draws Danny to one conclusion: Damian is a clone.

He doesn't know why Damian Wayne is being cloned. Frankly he doesn't really wanna know, because whatever organization that did it doesn't seem too pure-of-heart if tiny-Damian's immediate attempt of murder when they first met is of any indication. But he's too busy taking care of his city, that he doesn't have time to deal with whatever shady business Tiny-Damian was produced from.

In the end though, he decides that this Tiny-Damian is not going back to whatever place he came from. Tiny Damian disagrees. It is a long, nebulous problem of Damian trying to run away, Danny catching him, and Danny pulling him back home.

In that time, Danny downloads a language app and starts learning Arabic so that they can talk to each other properly. Damian slowly, slowly, starts picking up English.

In that time, Danny also has to inform his friends and his sister about Damian. Tiny Damian is not a fan of this. That is another argument they have. Tiny Damian does not like Sam or Tucker for a long, long while. He only really "listens" to Danny, citing something in arabic that Danny still cannot understand, but has a repeated use of the word "lieazir". It's the only word that Danny can catch in a sentence immediately, because its what little Damian calls Danny.

Tiny Damian, in that front, is very interested in Danny's powers and in his parents work. He finds tubberware of ectoplasm in the fridge once while they're down in the kitchen and calls it something with the word lieazir in it. The other word is something that Danny later learns means water in arabic.

It makes him feel even more uneasy of whatever place little Damian came from.

It takes weeks for little Damian to finally give up on escaping, and then a few weeks more for him to almost entirely lose his spunk. Danny isn't sure what started it. It was as if he'd been flipped with an off-switch.

(Damian had been so confident that the League would go looking for him after his disappearance. He was wrong, and he is crushed. He is still a child, alone, in a country very big and very busy, where nobody understands what he's saying. He feels powerless, helpless.)

(The lazarus boy who calls himself Danyal is nice to him in a way the league has never been, and he's making an effort to learn Damian's language. But he leaves for hours at a time and Damian doesn't have much else to do but wait in this house for him to come back.)

(He tried leaving, many many times, but he doesn't understand the street signs, the roads, the people. He doesn't know where he is, and he feels scared in a way that he's not felt in the League. Danny finds him every single time, hours later when Damian is lost somewhere in Amity Park)

(And he never yells at him. Never. The first time this happens, Damian puffs himself up and prepares himself for this strange lazarus boy to yell at him. Damian feels like he's tripped on the last step of the stairs when Danyal doesn't yell at him.)

(He can tell he's frustrated by the tone of his voice, but when Danyal lays eyes on him he just looks relieved. He gets scolded on the flight home, but Damian doesn't understand any of it other than Danyal just sounds worried. Not angry. He gets a proper scolding once they get back, with Danyal typing into the google translator and playing it for Damian to hear.)

(This happens every single time until Damian finally agrees to stop running away.)

It's with Jazz's help that Danny finally realizes that Damian was depressed. It's with her help again that Danny tries helping with it. It's like trying to get a stray cat to trust him. And with everything else they've done, it takes a long time.

And it is so, so worth it when it all works out.

Tiny Damian doesn't really like Sam, or Tucker, but he likes Danny. And he finally starts calling him his name. His full name, but his name nonetheless. Danny doesn't bother correcting him. He's not looking a gift horse in the mouth. And it's endearing hearing Damian call him Danyal.

Damian in this time, also begins to take more initiative into learning English. And they teach each other words they know. Danny buys flash cards and writes the english alphabet on them, and then finds a book on arabic to teach himself and Damian. Sam and Tucker and Jazz start learning as well.

And then when Danny knows enough arabic and Damian knows enough english, and Damian trusts Danny, Damian tells him he's a clone. It's a quiet moment, late at night when Danny takes Damian up to the ops center to look at what stars they could see through the light pollution.

It'd be very easy for Danny to tell him, "I know. I could tell from the start.". He doesn't, it's not the time nor the place, and Danny's matured enough to know when to open his mouth and when to keep it shut. He lets Damian, almost seven now, tell him that he's a clone of Damian Wayne. Lets him tell him why he was made, what his purpose was.

(Danny will need a minute later to process the fact that Damian Wayne originally came from some kind of... assassin league with an obsession with immortality. But he's focused on Damian.)

In the end, he puts an arm around Damian Wayne's clone and pulls him into his side. Thanks him for trusting him, it must've been hard to tell him, that he's brave for being able to. And if he wants to, they can find a way to get into contact with the Waynes and let Wayne know about him.

Damian hides his face in Danny's ribs and holds him tight, and tells him he doesn't want to. Danny leaves it at that.

Perhaps it would be more morally ethical to alert Damian Wayne that there was a clone of him running around, that his... uh, grandfather was making clones of him. Hell, Danny would have liked it. But little Damian has asked him not to say anything, and little Damian needs someone to rely on; someone he can trust.

And in the end, its not that hard of a decision to make. Danny knows little Damian more than he knows Damian Wayne, and while Danny likes to think he's a good person, he knows he's not a great one. Nor a perfect one. He cares more about someone he knows than someone he doesn't.

If Sam tries to argue with him about it, then Danny will just double down. If Damian doesn't want to tell Wayne about his existence, then it's not their place to say otherwise.

There's a lot more to talk about over Damian's cloning, like what he wants to do moving forward. But that's a long conversation not meant to be one taken late at night. Little Damian is falling asleep at his side, seemingly much more relaxed than he did before, and Danny wasn't gonna ruin that.

And later he's right, it is a long conversation, and a slow one. Talking with Jazz about it helps him figure out what to do moving forward, and their best bet is to let Damian figure out what he wants to do. So he sits Damian down at the dinner table the next morning and tells him before breakfast that he doesn't need to be Damian Wayne.

He doesn't need to learn all the same things Damian Wayne did. He doesn't need to do anything that Damian Wayne does. And little Damian is seven, and he's smart, but Danny still has to word it in a way that's not too complex for him to realize.

And in the end, what he says essentially boils down to "You are not Damian Wayne, you are just you. Don't be anyone else but you." and it'll take more time to drill that into his mind when all he's ever heard and learned from is that he was a copy of Damian Wayne, and he must act like Damian Wayne. But it'll happen.

It's a hard task when Danny's the only person Damian really trusts and he can't be by his side all the time, but he starts to warm up to the rest of Danny's family. The Fenton parents know of him, it's hard to keep a six year old child a secret for as long as Danny did without eventually having to come clean about it. His parents, much to Danny's relief, are very welcoming to Damian.

Damian figures out what he likes. Slowly. He's six years old, almost seven, and nobody expects of him to figure out who he is immediately. No child knows who they are right off the bat. So like any child he begins to explore. His english is better but still rough, and he struggles to read said language, but the Fenton family are happy to help even if Damian learns words that no normal seven year old does. (Many of them scientific.)

Damian realizes he likes stars, even if said interest is influenced by the association to Danny. Danny is all too delighted to tell him all about them, and in the process takes him flying out somewhere where the light pollution doesn't reach and showing him where constellations are.

Damian is six-almost-seven, so he doesn't find all of them, but Danny helps him figure out the easier ones. He tells him the scientific facts behind them, and then tells him about the mythos of the constellations. Later on they make their own constellations and make up stories about what they are.

(Damian adores Danny out of anyone else in the Fenton Family. The name Danyal turns to Dany. If anyone asks, Daniel Fenton is Damian's big brother.)

(He still refers to Jazz as Jazmine, and Danny's parents as Mrs. and Mr. Fenton.)

He realizes that, like his original, he loves animals, and he becomes vegetarian too. Sam is smug and Tucker is disappointed, but Damian doesn't super care about their opinions. ...he's getting better at liking them, even if he thinks Manson is a bit snobby and Foley is too much at times.

Its inevitable that the conversation of school comes into play. Damian can't stay home all day and he needs proper schooling. So after a long talk with Damian, they agree to send him to elementary school.

...And before they can do that the Fenton Family goes through with legally adopting Damian into the family as Damian Fenton. It takes convincing to get the administration to enroll him into the first grade without a proper schooling background.

(On his adoption form, Damian asks to change his birthday to the day he met Danny. Perhaps its not the most responsible thing to agree to, but Danny wants Damian to find himself. And its not like they know when his actual birthday was.)

And despite where he learned it from, Damian quite likes sparring. And he quite likes sparring with Danny in particular. Danny makes it fun, something that was foreign in his old league training, and Danny never hurts him. It's a lot like roughhousing.

Danny tells Damian how he got his powers, and how his parents don't know. Damian wakes up late at night to Danny sneaking out of the room (their house is not big enough to give Damian an individual room, and Danny agreed to share his) to go fight ghosts.

It's upsetting. Damian knows that Danny gets injured in those fights, even if Danny never comes home until after those injuries have been fixed up. He wants to help, and he voices it, and Danny shoots him down.

It becomes an argument, something that has happened less and less over the months.

Damian is experienced.

Damian is a child.

Damian knows how to fight.

Damian is mortal and fragile. He is a tiny, squishy human boy and the people Danny fights are ghosts who are near-indestructible. Who are intimately acquainted with death but also do not remember that humans are capable of it. Especially when they're fighting.

Damian says that Batman's rogues are capable of the same thing, that he lets his Robins help him fight.

And Danny says he is not Batman and he will not allow Damian to fight ghosts with him. Those ghosts will kill him and it will hurt. Dying hurts in a way that is terrifying and unimaginable and he will not risk Damian experiencing it. Not even Sam and Tucker help him in his fights most of the time, they are not able to. Not in the way Danny can.

Damian doesn't talk to him all day the following morning, but Danny does not budge on his decision. Damian tries to follow him out the next night, and Danny catches him and takes him back. Over, and over, and over again.

Until finally he gets intercepted by Skulker while taking Damian back home and is forced to fight him in front of Damian. (If it had been his choice, he would not have let Damian see it at all.)

It's not pretty. Skulker has new weapons, weapons that hurt, a lot. Danny is stuck between trying to take him down and trying to protect Damian from Skulker's attacks at him and from all the debris being created from the fight. It's with Damian's quick thinking and fast feet that finally helps Danny take Skulker out. But Danny is badly injured in the aftermath.

He doesn't have time to take Damian home and get medical attention. So he takes Damian with him to wherever he has his supplies stashed. He doesn't call Sam or Tucker or Jazz, and has to stitch himself up alone, with Damian watching.

Damian is quiet the entire time, he feels awful. Danny's not mad at him -- well, he is. But not because he had to protect him. He's just tired, and a little disappointed in him. Damian doesn't sneak out again. But he still feels helpless.

Danny tells him that that is why he doesn't want Damian to help him. Ghosts, his ghosts, are hard to fight. They are powerful, and his 'rogues' are mean. They will not care that Damian is a mortal child, if he picks a fight with them, they will fight back. And Damian is not immune to certain ghost powers like Danny is.

Damian is silent. He wants to help. But Danny is right: he is a squishy, mortal, living child. There is not much he can do to help Danny. Not without any gear to do it. Not without any powers to do it. He wants to help. He cannot.

Damian, almost-seven-years old, begins to cry. It is the last thing Danny was expecting, and for a moment he is at a loss of what to do.

Damian reaches for him -- in the Fenton family, physical affection is expected. Damian is getting used to it, but Danny is the only one he likes touching him -- and then stops, cringing away like he only just remembered that Danny was hurt.

He only cries harder.

Danny meets him halfway and pulls him into his arms, situating Damian between his knees from where he's sitting. Through his tears, Damian says he wants to help. He wants to help. He doesn't want Danny to get hurt anymore. He doesn't want Danny to fight ghosts alone anymore. He's scared that Danny will stop coming back.

Danny doesn't have anything to say to reassure him. Can't say anything to reassure him. It'll all just be lies. He's not going to stop fighting ghosts, he can't. He's not going to stop getting hurt, he can't. He's not going to bring Damian with him, he can't. He'd never be able to live with himself.

"I'll always come back." He says though, because that is something he can promise. Whether dead or alive, he'll come back.

When the tears finally stop, Damian doesn't say anything again. He sniffles, and presses his ear to Danny's chest, listening to the steady, slow heartbeat. If he puts his ear to his sternum and strains his ear, Damian would almost hear the low hum of Danny's ghost core, like a small dwarf sun.

"If you die, I'll drag you to the Lazarus pools myself." Damian mumbles eventually, his voice sleep-full. It's spoken in arabic, and Danny only understands half of it.

He laughs quietly, and smoothes his hand over Damian's hair. He hasn't had a haircut since he arrived, it's gotten long and there are curls beginning to form. "Okay."

Damian falls asleep shortly after, and with much consideration to his own injuries and Damian's sleeping form, Danny flies them back home.

It's hard to say, but not much changes in routine afterwards. Damian hovers close to Danny, more than usual. Danny still goes out at night, he still stitches himself up before going back, he still goes back home where Damian is waiting worriedly for him. Damian doesn't like falling asleep without knowing Danny is there.

Now the hard question is: when does little Damian finally meet the Waynes for the first time? There's plenty of ways to go about it, both easy and hard. Perhaps we go this way:

The Fenton family are visiting Maddie's sister in Arkansas. And Damian is dragging Danny around through the surrounding forest. It's his first time being in a forest this large since he moved in with the Fentons. Safe to say he is delighted by all of the nature, and he's dragging Danny along with him.

Danny likes the peace and quiet it gives him, he's found that he enjoys the rural area more than he likes the city. He's happy to let Damian point out every plant he recognizes, even if some of it is in arabic.

They walk around all day until Damian gets tired, and then at night when the sky is clear Danny and him go look at the stars. It's peaceful at first.

On the third day of their visit, Damian drags Danny out far from the house. It's slightly worrying, but Danny can always fly them back if it gets too late.

It's in the woods that Danny and Damian stray much too far from Alicia's house, and from there in the early evening that they run into Batman and Red Robin, both of them in rough 'just got out of a fight' shape.

Safe to say, it was the last thing any of them expected to run into. Damian and Danny had stopped at a small crik to rest, and the two vigilantes came through the tree line on the other side.

It was... quite the staring contest.

Damian, now seven years old at this point, forgot to mention that the Waynes were vigilantes when he told Danny he was a clone. But he was told that Batman was his original's father.

Before anyone can say anything, little Damian wraps his arms tight around Danny's middle and stares Batman and Red Robin down. His sharp edges have softened around the Fentons. But he makes no exceptions to anyone else outside of Danny's immediate social circle.

Danny's arm automatically goes around Damian's shoulders, and he looks between both Red and Batman uneasily. If they were here then it meant that there was something unsafe nearby. Danny did not fight the living, and he wasn't going to put Damian in the crosshairs of anything that does.

"Should... should we leave?" He asks, brows knotted together with a frown. He stands. "Is there something going on nearby?"

Batman suddenly grunts, and looks at him. "It's been handled." He says, and his voice is gruffer than Danny imagined it. Lower. Danny is not all that comfortable with that answer.

"Do you guys live nearby?" Red Robin asks, and Danny can't help but notice that he keeps looking at Damian. Warily. In fact, so is Batman.

He pushes Damian behind him slightly, and Damian's grip tightens on him. "Not... exactly." He says, his eyes narrowing slightly. "My family's visiting my Aunt and my brother wanted to explore since it's his first time out of the city, I guess we wandered too far away if we're running into you."

There's no visible indication of whether or not both Bats reacted to him calling Damian his brother. But he can all but feel little Damian preen at the title, it makes Danny's mouth twitch into a smile as his hand finds Damian's hair.

"Would we be able to go back with you?" Red Robin asks, startling both Danny and seemingly Batman, who looks at him instantly.

"Red Robin." He growls out, and Red Robin throws Batman a look of annoyance.

"We are lost, B. They jammed the comms and our trackers back there and it hasn't come back on yet, his aunt may have the signal we need to let the others know where we are."

They end up walking back with Danny and Damian. It's silent, and awkward, and Danny has Damian walking on his opposite side so he's not near the vigilantes. Red Robin is fiddling with a phone but still can't get a signal.

Batman is silently brooding.

Red eventually gives up and shoves the phone into a pocket on his belt, then turns to make conversation with Danny. "I never thanked you for letting us walk with you. Thanks, by the way."

Danny blinks at him, and smiles awkwardly. "No problem, man," he says, "I'm uh, Danny." He glances down at Damian, who looks up at him with big green eyes, and Damian nods quietly.

He looks back at Red Robin, and says, "This is my little brother, Damian." And Damian peers over his side and glares at Red Robin -- and Batman, who looks over when Danny says his name.

"He looks like Damian Wayne," Red Robin notes, head tilting like he's inspecting him.

Danny huffs dryly, "We get that a lot."

Red Robin smiles at him, its a tilted thing. It makes Danny uneasy. "Where did you say you were from?"

"I didn't," Danny says bluntly, and he really doesn't want to tell them where he's from. Not when Red Robin was acting strange, but they're vigilantes and notorious for their detective skills. If he's suspicious, they'll look into him. "But I'm from Amity Park."

Damian in that moment, peers around Danny again and scowls at Red Robin. Full on scowls at him, as if it were the first months when he met Danny. "You're being nosy." He sneers, his hand squeezing Danny's.

"Damian," Danny hisses, suppressing a smile. Damian jumps like he's been startled, and looks up at him with big green eyes. "He's just being curious."

(He lets his smile slip through briefly, just to let Damian know he's not that upset. A tension leaves his little brother's shoulders.)

"But he is." Damian continues, a whine leaking into his voice. Danny jabs him in the ribs with his fingers, and Damian jumps, swatting away his hand with a squeak.

"Would you rather have us walk in dead silence, Dames?" He goes for Damian's ribs again, a grin stretching across his face as Damian jumps back again and swats his hand. "Hm? Hm? We could just walk in awkward silence for the entire trip back, I know you just love awkward silence, little brother."

(It's funny, saying little brother always sounds so uncomfortable when he reads it in books and watches it on tv. But Jazz always makes it sound so natural when she does it, and Danny finds that he sounds the same too.)

Damian continues to bat away his hands, but it's not enough to prevent him from squealing with laughter when Danny gets a good hold on him and starts tickling him. Danny's grin only gets bigger, and he swoops Damian up with his arm and holds him like a football.

"Is that it? Huh? Me, you, and two vigilantes walking back to Aunt Alicia's cabin in complete, utter silence." He says, "You won't get to hear any of my amazing jokes."

Damian's wriggling, trying to pound on Danny's ribs, he's giggling uncontrollably. It's the best sound Danny's ever heard. "Your jokes are awful! Laeazir! Put me down!" He cries, grinning from ear to ear.

(From the side, both Red Robin and Batman tense up.)

Danny chuckles, and through a short series of flips, has Damian sitting on his shoulders. "I will not. You're sitting up in air jail for insulting my hilarious jokes."

Damian tugs on his hair in revenge, harrumphing at him but making no move to get down. Danny squeezes his ankles playfully, and looks back to Batman and Red Robin.

Both vigilantes look at him like he's grown a second head.

....Red Robin looks at him like he's grown a second head. Batman just stares, and then looks away. Danny tilts his head at them, his smile waning. "You guys look like you've seen a ghost or something."

(Damian tugs on his hair again. A silent boo at him.)

Red Robin jerks, "Oh, sorry." He says, not sounding all that sorry. "It's just... I've lost count to how many times I've saved Damian Wayne from the occasional kidnapping and he's always been very... serious. It's just weird seeing a kid that looks like him be... not serious."

From his shoulders he feels Damian hide his smile in his hair, that's another thing they can put on their "Things That Damian Does That Damian Wayne Does Not" list. It started as a joke, but it's been surprisingly helpful for when Damian is questioning himself.

However, Danny is not a fan of the comparison, and he smiles widely, perhaps a tad passive-aggressive. "It's a good thing that my Damian isn't Damian Wayne then." He says, giving him the slight stink eye.

Red Robin picks up on it quickly, and nods.

The rest of the way is spent in idle conversation. It's oddly casual, even if most of the conversation is Danny talking about himself. It's annoying, but he unfortunately understands the reason. Secret identities and all that.

Damian interjects a few times, some parts to talk to Danny, and other parts to throw shade at Batman and Red Robin. Mostly Red Robin, who seems begrudgingly used to it.

("I'm surprised you haven't asked me much about myself." Red Robin says at one point into the conversation. Over his shoulder Batman glares at Red Robin. "A lot of civilians do when they're able."

Danny stares at him. "You're a vigilante." He says, frowning, "Isn't it superhero 101 that you don't ask superheroes for their secret identity?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Huh. Well, no. I'm not gonna ask you about yourself. I quite like talking all about me.")

When they finally reach the cabin, it's late into the night and Danny has moved Damian from his shoulders to his front in a koala-like carry. Damian's fast asleep with his head on Danny's shoulder.

His family was also frantically searching for him, and Jazz sees him first. She immediately turns behind her and yells "I FOUND HIM!". And then sprints over to him, his parents thundering not too far behind.

Both vigilantes are subsequently ignored as Jazz dotes over him and Danny, and soon enough so is his mom and dad. They're all talking all at once, asking him where he was, they were worried sick, did he know how late it was.

He shushes all of them, loudly. And whispers that Damian is sleeping. His family then immediately quiet themselves, and go back to yelling at him in a more appropriate manner.

"Me and Damian walked too far by accident." Danny finally says when he can get a word in, and then he jabs his thumb in Red Robin and Batman's direction. "We also found two superheroes who need assistance."

The speed of which his family all snap their heads over to the direction he's pointing is almost comical. As is all of their expressions of shock.

His mother is the first to regain her senses, and she sighs at him. She sighs! "Only you, Danny." She says, and Jazz snorts into her arm.

[ghouljams]

can we hear from konig and fetch? I love her powers and how konig actually READS the manual first unlike ghost boy smh

mwah much love

Of course! I love them, they're so silly(I say as I'm about to write Blacksite prison shit)

You perch, nice and pretty on the edge of the table, watching the man in front of you sweat. König is looking over a tray of surgical instruments. He rubs his chin through his hood, picks up a corkscrew and sets it down. You swing your feet while you wait, at least the man you're interrogating is smart enough to keep his mouth shut. It's no fun if they get started begging too early.

"Schöne, where are the curved scissors? The snippy ones, not the wiggly ones," König asks you. You summon a pair of pruning shears and hold them out to him. The metal blades are just starting to rust from the poorly cleaned off blood. König looks at them and you can see his eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles under his hood. "Thank you, those will do nicely."

His gloved hand takes the shears gently from your outstretched palm. The subject of your stalled interrogation thrashes against the ropes binding him to the chair. "What the fuck did she just do?" He asks, eyes wide on you. You flash him a smile with all your teeth, let's your horns burn into visibility, just to hear his panicked heartbeat.

"Go on and show off," König hums, watching you, "it might make this faster." You push yourself off the edge of the table and lean close to your victim.

"Don't worry," you tell him, pressing your fingers over his heart, "this won't hurt, but you'll remember it the rest of your life."

You push your fingers in, feeling the skin and cloth give way to your insistent push, ribs bend out of your path, and you feel the rapid inhalation in the man's lungs as your fingers brush past the organ. You wrap your hand around his heart and extract it, careful not to sever anything important when you rip the still beating organ from his chest. The heart drips blood onto the man's lap as you hold it in front of him, it squeezes and pumps, continuing its thankless work even outside the body. It picks up pace, anxiety and fear spiking it into a rapid race of desperation as the man stares down his own life.

"You should really take better care of this thing," You turn the heart over in your hand, examining the stress markers on it.

"That's my-"

"I think I'm going to start with the fingers," König tells you, cutting the man off.

"What?" The man transfers his panicked stare to König as he grabs his hand, holding the shears open around his pointer finger.

"Keep monitoring his vitals, I want to see how many I can get off before he starts talking." König holds his hand still with an iron grip as the man thrashes and struggles to free himself. The blades of the sheers hardly touch the man's skin before he's begging.

König dots his pencil against a small notebook, large hands dwarfing the writing instrument, his gloves resting on the blood stained table between you. Your victims heart is still beating in your hand, though the body is slumped in the chair. As far as you can tell the intel supplied is good, and though it's a bit of a stretch to say you can "fetch" the truth out of people, you pride yourself on being able to get the information you need.

"Good work Colonel," you purr. He looks at you with heat in his eyes, you know he likes when you call him that. Now isn't the time or place and you both know it, but teasing him now means more fun later.

"Have your snack Schatz," König says, going back to his notes. He flips a page back and forth with his fingers as you tip your head back and drop the heart into your waiting mouth. You're careful to bite through the muscle, sharp teeth slicing clean through your victims last lifeline. You swallow both halves to keep the blood from squinting everywhere as the corpse in the chair spasms with its last dredges of life.

König shuts his notebook and goes to bang on the metal door three times. You're quick to jump in his shadows as the latch clicks and the gears start turning to let you both out.

"I don't know man, it's just weird that's all," one of the cleanup crew grumbles. You cling to König's back, his hand reaches back to brush up your thigh, dragging against unseen flesh.

"Just do your job," the other advises, "Don't think too much about it, I mean, you've heard the rumors right?" You smile, press your lips to König's hood over his ear.

"They're talking about you," you whisper. Their eyes follow him as he walks past, their footsteps avoid his shadow.

"They're talking about you, Miene Liebe," König mumbles, turning his head to make sure its only you the hears him, "they're always talking about you."

[shawsimmer]

Did you ever give Penny a makeover? I’d love to see her in your sim style

i have! she’s the it girl

[shima-draws]

Anyway speaking of poly trios. Have any of you considered Lawlusan because MANNNN.

[yuridovewing]

Definitely a little controversial but tbh I'm a "Crowfeather would have been a bad dad to the three if he and Leafpool succeeded in running or if he knew about them" truther.

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC’s Lucien Ice Flowers Date English Translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Lyric Poetry Free SSR Event | Prologue+Day 1-3 | Day 4-6 | Day 7-9 | Day 10-12 | Day 13 (Ice Flowers Date)

[T/N: before reading the date, please read the prologue and event first. they're pretty short, plus the date references the event a lot and will make more sense with the event.]

✂———————–

✧ [Subbed Video Ver - Turn On CC!] ✧

✂———————–

✧ [Transcript Ver] ✧

—[Part 1]— Video Timestamp: [00:02]

The sound of the alarm clock wakes me up from my dream.

There is a faint sound of drizzling rain outside the window. I squint and glance at the dark and gloomy sky leaking through the gap in the curtains, then turn around to snuggle up to the soft warmth beside me.

MC: Lucien... the alarm is ringing…

My brain is reluctant to kick into gear, so I let instinct take over, wrapping myself around Lucien like a koala clinging to a tree.

Strands of my hair are gently teased by his breath, carrying a hint of nasal sound as it grazes past my ear.

Lucien: Do you want to get up now?

MC: Let me lie down a bit longer…

I bury myself deeper into Lucien's embrace, and a trace of warmth falls onto the tip of my ear.

(🥺 he's pecking her ear)

Lucien: But this Miss specifically instructed me last night to wake you up on time today to find the last specimen material.

Lucien: Do you plan to postpone the plan?

Memories struggle to surface in my mind, and I bury my head deeper in embarrassment.

MC: How about... ten more minutes?

He laughs softly, his hand gently patting my shoulder. Not sure if he's urging me to get up or coaxing me back to sleep.

Lucien: Collecting material shouldn't take that long. You can give yourself a few extra ten minutes.

His nearly indulgent tone makes me snuggle closer to him even more unscrupulously, and I rest my head in the crook of his neck.

MC: Today is perfect for lazing in bed…

Lucien: [hoarsely] After all, the temperature dropped last night, and now it's only four degrees.

Lucien: [whispers] Compared to the cold room, it's indeed more comfortable here.

MC: Hmm...? Wait, four degrees?

I open my eyes in surprise, reaching out to fumble around the bedside table.

MC: Didn't it warm up yesterday?

MC: I specifically loosened the soil in the flowerpots, thinking about planting the seeds I collected...

Lucien leans over me, fetching my phone and considerately opens the weather app.

Lucien: The cold wave is more severe than anticipated. The temperature dropped overnight yesterday. But if today's weather forecast is accurate, it should clear up by noon.

I stare dumbfounded at the plummeting temperatures on the screen. Instinctively, I shrink back into the blankets.

As if he has read my mind, Lucien smiles and tucks the blanket around me, snuggles close to me affectionately, as if he too is a little afraid of the cold.

Lucien: (whispers gently) Since the weather isn't cooperating, we can just stay at home today.

Lucien: I happen to have a few movies I've been wanting to watch with you. We haven't found the right opportunity before, but maybe today is perfect.

He looks at me with a gentle smile, his warm body heat enveloping me along with the soft blanket, inviting me to sink back into the gap between dreams and reality.

✂———————–

—[Part 2]— Video Timestamp: [02:28]

Staying in bed for the entire morning has provided comfort for both body and mind.

As noon approaches, sunlight begins to filter through the overcast clouds, signaling a clearing in the weather. The plan to go out and search for specimens is once again put on the agenda.

MC: Shall we just look around the neighborhood?

Lucien: Sure. Given the weather, there might be another rain shower later.

I retrieve two thick sweaters from the wardrobe, while Lucien brings matching scarves and coats.

This late spring chill is indeed quite fierce.

Despite the increasingly radiant sunlight, we still fully bundle up, and the air remains cold enough that I can't help but huddle close to Lucien.

As I nestle into my scarf, I scan our surroundings in all directions.

Although we're not going too far, I still want to try to find something sufficiently special to mark the end of this collection journey of over ten days.

MC: Those fallen leaves look quite beautiful! But considering we started with leaf specimens on the first day, wouldn't it lack a bit of originality?

Lucien: Hmm, plant specimens already make up a considerable proportion. We should indeed consider materials from other categories.

MC: Should we buy a butterfly specimen material kit to revisit the "original intention" of making specimens?

Lucien: But there's already a butterfly on the display shelf that you praised as special before.

Lucien: [with a hint of grievance in his tone] If your attention is taken by other similar specimens, it will hurt its heart.

The person next to me deliberately reveals a slightly distressed expression, yet he softly raises the corner of his lips.

Remembering the butterfly he made with clean and white fish bones, who knows how long it took him. I can't help but laugh and pull him away from the neighborhood.

MC: Let's go check out other places and seek some new inspiration!

Unfortunately, even after we leave the neighborhood, the situation hasn't changed much.

We went to our usual café, and took a stroll in the bookstore, but apart from getting a rosy nose from the cold, we came back empty-handed.

Seeing that it's about to drizzle again, I thought today's search might come to an end. However, Lucien quickly takes a couple of steps and leads me into the convenience store on the street.

The warm air, mixed with the aroma of cooked food, instantly dispels the cold from outside, like a small campfire amid a concrete jungle.

I relax my shoulders, which had tensed up from the cold, and lean in close to him as we walk to the counter, picking out a few skewers of fish balls, radishes, and other items for a warm hotpot.

MC: Convenience stores truly are an important part of the city…

MC: They provide warmth in winter, coolness in summer, and offer coffee and boxed meals for every working folks.

Lucien: It also serves as a resting spot for the little explorer who's been searching for a long time.

I hear the sound of a payment code being scanned. When I turn around, I see him grabbing two hot chocolate from the hot beverage section.

Lucien: Sugar helps activate the brain, encouraging people to make better decisions.

Lucien: After searching for so long without making a decision, do you have any particular thoughts about today's collection item?

He hands me one of the hot drinks, gesturing for me to sit at the bar table. Those calm eyes of his seem to have already seen through all of my thoughts.

I wrap my hands around the warm package, sipping the hot chocolate slowly, one gulp at a time.

The mild taste of milk softens the richness of chocolate, and the lingering sweetness dances on my lips and tongue. Normally, it might seem a bit too sweet, but at this moment, it tastes just right.

Perhaps because I’m back in a comfortable environment, the emotions that were lingering in my heart melt into the faint background noise, escaping from my lips with a shallow sigh.

MC: Do you think I'm too fixated on the idea of the "last specimen"?

MC: I always feel like what I find isn't special enough, and in the end, I come back empty-handed, spending the whole morning in the cold breeze for nothing.

The light rain pitter-patters on the window, leaving long streaks of water behind.

Lucien also opens his hot chocolate, speaking softly.

Lucien: Although it may require more time and effort, I believe this kind of perfectionism is also an indispensable part of life.

Lucien: Since these specimens capture fragments of our lives, I'm not willing to compromise when it comes to matters related to you either.

A light and tender curve graces his lips as he reaches out to re-tie my scarf, forming a neat and beautiful knot.

Lucien: Moreover, better options might unexpectedly cross our paths in the future.

Lucien: Just like the surprises you've brought me time and time again.

He rubs my hair.

Lucien: So, stay with me a little longer on this road to the future.

I smile at him, then half seriously point to the convenience store loyalty card that came with the bill after he paid.

MC: If we still haven't found the right collectable by the end of today, let's turn this into a specimen.

MC: Let's use the blank squares to remind me that better things always await us in the future.

✂———————–

—[Part 3]— Video Timestamp: [06:35]

Returning in the afternoon, we add a new stamp to our loyalty card, and in our hands are snacks and drinks bought from the convenience store.

I was about to turn on the air conditioner when Lucien seemed to recall something and asked me to wait for a moment.

After a thorough search in the storage room, he brought in a small tea table with a built-in birdcage-shaped heater.

MC: What is this...? How did I not notice that we had something like this at home before?

Lucien: It's a gift from when the Bioultima Research Institute purchased machinery before.

Lucien: Thinking that you might enjoy the atmosphere of ‘gathering around a fire’ together, I stored it in the storage room. Finally, I have the chance to use it this time.

MC: What kind of machinery comes with a small heater as a gift?

Two completely unrelated things being connected caught me off guard for a moment.

Lucien: It’s from the manufacturers who provide constant-temperature incubators.

Lucien: During that period, they planned to expand their product line and started making electric blankets and heaters.

MC: Pfft…

I couldn't help but chuckle as I watched Lucien shrug his shoulders, plugging in the heater. I lay out a cozy "nest" with a blanket and waved him over to join me in one corner.

MC: Please step into the trap~

Lucien: I'm more than happy to fall into this trap.

He brought another blanket, further reinforcing our little corner.

The knob turns, and the heater lights up with an orange glow. The surrounding slightly damp and chilly air gradually warms up, becoming fluffy and cozy.

MC: Not bad, not bad. Indeed, it reflects the "scientific research standard"~ And using a small heater for warmth is much more romantic than turning on the air conditioner.

Under the blanket, I embrace his arm, his body temperature more comforting than the heater and snugly pressed against my side, we're all wrapped up tight under this flowery blanket.

MC: Since the heater comes with a small tea table, should we grab some things and warm them a bit?

MC: There's probably some oranges and snacks at home, and do we still have a big half-bottle of rice wine in the fridge?

Lucien: Mm. Besides the rice wine, there should be a jar of dried osmanthus in the kitchen cabinet.

MC: Sounds good!

I nod in satisfaction, already able to imagine how enticing this tea spread will be. Even the placement of each item is meticulously arranged in my mind, perfect in every detail.

Lucien: Aren't you going to get them?

Lucien's voice, tinged with confusion, pulls me back from the fragrant reverie to reality.

I sheepishly lift my head and stick out my tongue at him.

MC: It takes courage to face the cold head-on, and it also requires a bit of determination and time.

As I speak, I purposely blink at him and put on a pitiful expression.

MC: Or... could Professor Lucien do me a small favor?

Lucien: Well, that's a bit tricky. I'm reluctant to leave such a comfortable spot myself.

MC: Huh?

My tactic of being coquettish totally bombed, making me blink in a bit of surprise.

The gentle laughter ripples through the confined space. Under the blanket, he tightens his embrace around me, and with a sudden force, he lifts me to my feet.

Lucien: [whispers playfully] Since neither of us wants to leave the warmth of the blanket, why don't we just go together?

The blanket securely wraps us together as he takes slow steps forward, allowing me to move along with his stride.

His body warmth seeps through the fabric and onto my skin, providing a comforting warmth but this closeness also makes us stumble in our movements.

MC: We can't walk with you like this.

I laugh and try to poke him as usual, but almost lose my balance. With Lucien's quick eyes, his agile hands swiftly pull me back into his arms.

Lucien: For safety's sake, it's better if we stick together and move in unison.

He candorly spoke the childish suggestion, and as he looks into my eyes, they are sparkling with a bright smile.

I've always been helpless against him when he's like this, so I simply hug him tightly, raising a smile on my face.

MC: Then I'll take the lead~

MC: Left foot, right foot, left, right....

He cooperatively sways left and right with my "commands" as we move forward together.

The distance that was usually just a few steps away is lengthened as our body rubs against each other. Our laughter warms the blanket that gently brushes against our cheeks.

We move and drag our way slowly to the kitchen, teasingly hindering each other as we attempt to get the rice wine, fruits, and dried osmanthus.

With silent understanding, we wrap ourselves snugly in the blankets once again, nestling and rubbing against each other, as we slowly make our way back to the heater.

He doesn't release this prolonged hug until we both settle onto the sofa.

MC: It feels like you're exceptionally clingy today.

Lucien: [in husky tone] To ensure ample warmth, it's only natural to diligently protect the heat source.

MC: [laughs] Hmph, that's nonsense!

Although I say this, I happily share my body warmth with him, finding a more comfy spot as I lie down on his chest.

Snacks are placed on the tea table, carefully and slowly warmed. The mildly sweet aroma of heated rice wine mixes with the scent of osmanthus and citrus.

Lucien reaches out for a book, while I shelter inside his embrace and swipe my cell phone, allowing tranquility to sink and float along with the warm air in the room as we comfortably mind our own bussiness.

Occasionally, I take a few pastries and snacks to share with him, or pour two cups of rice wine. The delicate sound of clinking cups accompanies the smooth fragrance of the wine before it glides down our throats.

People are always particularly prone to indulging in sweet moments.

Whether it's the rhythmic flipping of book pages or the gradually equalizing frequency of sound in videos, my consciousness becomes entranced without me realizing it.

I don't know when I fell asleep, I just remember having a peaceful dream while wrapped in soft, cloud-like fabric.

As I stretch and yawn, I hear a soft voice coming from my side.

Lucien: Good Afternoon.

I look in his direction.

The late afternoon sun has sprinkled over the entire living room as if the previous cold and gloom were things of the distant past.

Amid all warmth and tranquility, beams of light shine generously and cordially, outlining his figure and casting a soft glow around him like a veil.

Lucien lazily props his hand against his face, the corners of his eyes and eyebrows gently curved into a soft arc.

The heater raised the indoor temperature, and his shirt was unbuttoned, showing off a lot of skin on his chest.

The blanket that was wrapped around him remains dutifully covering his body, cocooning him in coziness.

Everything is spread out in the sunlight, casting a sepia tone reminiscent of old movies.

Lucien: Why so quiet, are you still not fully awake yet?

He stretches out his fingers and waves them in front of my eyes.

MC: I'm already awake.

MC: I just woke up and was immediately greeted by a sight that delights the eye and warms the heart; I can't help but want to look at it a little longer.

I hook my fingers around his, letting the strands of my hair cascading over my shoulders slide down my back with the motion.

Lucien: Although I'd love to continue admiring you in front of me, I'm afraid I need to break this distance for now.

The unexpected answer left me momentarily stunned, just staring dazedly at him as his eyes unabashedly revealed a hint of grievance.

Lucien: You've been resting on my leg this whole time. I didn't dare to change positions at will.

Lucien: But it's really starting to feel numb.

MC: Pfft... You could've woken me up too, you know!

[a big fox who deliberately shows off his chest just to enjoy his lover’s stunned look and still uses the chance to openly ‘grieve’ as if he’s being ‘wronged’ pfft]

✂———————–

—[Part 4]— Video Timestamp: [13:14]

The rice wine is still warm, and there's still half a box of snacks left.

Sweetness fills the entire space, and I let out a contented sigh as I pour a small cup of rice wine for both him and myself.

As I taste the wine, my gaze curiously falls on the screen of Lucien's computer—there's a paper that seems a bit beyond my grasp, and beside him, there's also a book with specimen illustrations.

MC: What book are you reading?

Lucien: Literature on specimen preparation.

Lucien: Among the specimens we've made recently, the less conventional ones seem to make up the majority.

Lucien: Since there's such an opportunity, why not take the chance to brush up on some relevant professional knowledge?

MC: As expected of you! So, what has our Great Professor learned?

Lucien: I realized that my understanding of specimens may have some misconceptions.

He sets aside the computer and pulls me into his arms, flipping to a page in the book with illustrations of plant specimens, and starts to speak.

Lucien: In the field of collection, the significance of specimens mostly lies in preserving a particular moment of life forms, much like taking a photograph or recording a video.

Lucien: It can be understood as a record of the past.

Lucien: But from the perspective of scientific research, it mostly serves the research and analysis of relevant topics.

MC: From what it sounds like, it actually seems more like some kind of reserve for the future, doesn't it?

The person behind me nods and gently rubs his chin against the strands of hair on top of my head.

His scent, mingled with the fragrance of alcohol, fills my nostrils, as I attentively "listen" to his lecture, yet greedily rub against his neck.

Lucien: The side branches we prune from the hydrangea will encourage more lush growth, and perhaps the seeds you've brought will sprout someday in the future.

Lucien: There are still many spaces left on the loyalty card waiting for us to fill.

Lucien: Compared to keeping records, it seems that our collection shelf has also unconsciously left many expectations for the future.

Lucien: I should also learn from these specimens to find the presence in life that will make you pay attention…

There's a dark undercurrent in his eyes that lures me to delve deeper, as if there’s a river flowing with honey, making me willingly and wholeheartedly drown in it.

Lucien: Then I'll put what I've learned into practice, and bring back home even more things that can make my little lady happy.

Lucien: And not to end up like today, "spending the whole morning in the cold breeze for nothing”.

A speck of warmth touches the tip of my nose, bringing back memories of the cold, wind-filled morning.

Not to be outdone, I pinch his earlobe. The blanket slowly moved, causing the book originally placed on me to fall to the ground.

MC: I thought you were going to announce some groundbreaking scientific discovery, how did we end up here?

Lucien ignores the fallen book and just grabs my wrist with his free hand, then firmly holds it with his fingers.

Our already close distance is further reduced, and I can almost feel his breath brushing past my lips.

Maybe it's from knocking back too much rice wine, but the heart pounding in the chest is loud and clear in my ears, yet I can't tell if it's his beat or mine.

Lucien: I thought this conclusion hit the nail on the head.

Lucien: After all, it's only through practical application that theory can truly prove its worth.

Our breath intertwines and circulates with each exhale and inhale, floating amidst the gaps of beautiful dreams, as the light, airy sense of haziness envelops my body once again.

I simply lean forward, closing the last bit of distance between us, and affectionately kiss his cheek.

MC: But for me, what leads me to look forward to the future is neither memories nor specimens.

MC: Rather, it's you.

His long eyelashes resemble the antennae of a butterfly, trembling ever so slightly as if confirming something, casting an alluring look.

MC: You gave me a hot chocolate, a little heater for warming the rice wine, a warm blanket, blank loyalty cards...

MC: And there's also an exceptionally clingy Professor Lucien.

MC: [smiles widely] It's you who brought romance and anticipation into my life.

Lucien's breath momentarily hitches, and then a warm sigh flows out from his lips.

Lucien: Then let's leave the last space on the shelf empty, we'll make this sense of anticipation our final collection. And together, let's wait for the next wave of happiness to arrive.

MC: Sure, leaving it blank does add a poetic touch.

Following my heart's desire, I kiss his eyelids. The gentle kisses and embraces weave a finely knit yet dense web, slowly making us fall into a light trance.

We enjoy the blurry and dizzying moment peacefully until a faint pattern on the window catches my eye in the hazy light.

I look towards the windowsill and find a delicate pattern drawn by ice crystals as if it were a fragment left behind by winter.

Lucien: What's wrong?

Sensing my distraction, Lucien softly pinches the nape of my neck, attempting to bring back my attention to what we were doing.

MC: I've discovered a happiness that has arrived unexpectedly.

MC: Lucien, look, there's an ice flower on the window.

With a smile, I break away from his embrace and casually pick up the book that had fallen aside for a long time, handing it back to him.

Lucien's gaze falls on that place, a hint of astonishment lighting up his dark eyes, which are even more touching than the view on the window.

MC: I didn't expect to see ice flowers. I'm starting to quite like today's cold air.

The gaze that had captivated me suddenly shifts, and the only thing reflected in those eyes is me, gazing back at him just as deeply.

Lucien: Then let's seize it.

His large hand covers the back of my hand, guiding me as our hands slowly glide along the window together.

The tips of his fingers seemed to shine with a faint, unnoticeable light.

Before I can ponder over it, starting from the point that we touched, ice crystals spread from the windowsill towards the center, spreading out into feather-like patterns.

I forget to breathe for a moment.

He continues guiding my movements until the entire window is covered with exquisite patterns we've drawn together.

MC: So beautiful!

I throw myself into his arms, my hands instinctively wrapping around his shoulders.

The tiny fragments transform into graceful patterns covering the entire window, imprinting the intertwined warmth and cold, weaving a flower that belongs only to winter in the spring.

I've heard that ice flowers on windows, just like snowflakes, each have their own unique shapes.

The beauty captured by him must indeed be a mark that belongs solely to him.

Lucien: Is this "material" enough to become our final specimen and deepen your anticipation for the future?

With a faint smile, he pulls the curtains further apart, allowing this scenery to be fully displayed before us.

MC: There won't be a better specimen than this!

MC: Thank you for personally "capturing" the future in front of me.

I tilt my head up and place a kiss on the side of Lucien's face, unable to suppress the smile at the corners of my lips.

MC: In that case, I'll try to give you more "now" as a gift in return.

A pair of slender eyes gently curve, quietly awaiting the words I'm about to say.

MC: I'm not as amazing as you, who is always able to see so far ahead...

MC: Always able to move forward with such determination, turning that mere anticipation of the future into reality, surprising me time and time again.

MC: But just like today, I can find various little sceneries around us.

MC: And then tell you, "Lucien, look, a flower is blooming over there."

The cold light outside the window filters through layers of ice crystals, refracting into tiny iridescent rainbows, and melting into his warm and flowing gaze.

A kiss, like an answer, lands on the corner of my lips, letting me taste a sweetness sweeter than all the drinks and refreshments in the world.

Lucien: [hoarsely] After experiencing happiness, people will naturally have expectations for the future.

Lucien: [x2] They’ll have the desire to relive the experiences they once had, again and again, or seek other happiness they haven’t yet experienced.

Lucien: [x3] But now, I feel that, compared to the distant future, the present moment is even more touching.

Lucien's lowered voice sounds a bit hoarse, reminding me of a big fox's subtle purring when it's in a pleasant mood.

Lucien: [x4!] After all, in the face of the immediate beauties, all hypotheses about expectations will seem too illusory.

Lucien: For example, the ice flower that bloomed in this window because of your attention.

The hand embracing my waist intimately confines me, and it feels as if the temperature inside the room has heated up again.

Lucien: And another example is you.

The heater emits heat that makes people cling to the warmth, and all the wonderful scents I can think of are blending and surrounding me.

Spring has just begun, and there are still many good days ahead.

✂———————–

[lorephobic]

(same anon) IVE NEVER SEEN THAT honestly if i was barrys gf i would just be like fine its jacob elordi LMFAO oh my god thats so cute 😭😭 i also saw a selfie barry took with jacob and jacob is like. crouching so hed be in frame... it made me sob.. uncle jacob... what if i died

no fr their friendship is so real & true 💛💛💛💛

just for u anon ive curated my favorite obscure jarry pics that i havent seen on tumblr yet <3

starting off w my absolute faves and putting the rest below the cut

ok the premiere ones arent that obscure but shhhh i hadnt seen these exact angles yet

[sexysilverstrider]

i bring my kieran thoughts to you once more but this one involves arven. i think its *so funny* when people do a love triangle with kieran, arven, and juli because they always portray kieran as this super jealous guy and arven as a clueless sweet himbo. i dont believe that. look back at how hard arven asserts in area zero that HES your best friend and NO ONE ELSE and you have SUCH A GREAT BOND. (1/2)

personally i see both arven and kieran to be clingy and easily jealous but each have their own way of jealousy.

like arven asserts his friendship with aoi. yes. but he doesnt realize how deep his feelings are for aoi until like later/when the situation calls where aoi is talking abt romantic feelings to another person. yes hes clingy to her but clingy in a way like 'THIS IS MY BEST FRIEND. SHE IS MY BEST FRIEND. MY BESTEST FRIEND. MY BEST FRIEND. DID I REMIND YOU GUYS THAT SHE IS MY BEST FRIEND. SHES SO COOL. MY BEST FRIEND.' like man went through so much grief in his childhood that the trauma has shaped him without realizing it. aoi has always been there for and with him BUT he also sees her bond with penny and nemona and besides him calling himself aois bestest friend he thinks nothing of it.

until kieran comes into the picture

arven gets jealous. definitely. but his jealousy is. safer in a sense. he gets anxious and nervous and just the fear of losing someone dear again really can make a grown man panic. he'll realize his feelings and tries to win her before its too late.

now kieran. kieran is literally the blueprint for any yandere trope. he was obsessed with ogerpon. he then got obssessed with beating and wanting to be like aoi. we have literal dialogues about how he got aoi in the brain. aoi became the sole reason he made a 180. aoi changed him in the worst way possible.

of course flash forward to the post dlc. he definitely lets it all go (as he said) but i see it as he slooowly gets over the process. hes taking a leave of absence after all kieran baby come back so he needs to therapy time to think back and redeem himself. hes slowly reverting back to his timid sweet self but heres the shtick: only to aoi

hes gain a reputation to be ruthless and cold. while hes not that anymore people still either fear or respect or hate him. hes calm at best or indifferent at worst. but to aoi? thats when people gets to see his sweetest. and to people flirting with aoi? thats when people gets to see his worst.

he still has that obsessive tendencies. he still has possessive tendencies. kieran will definitely assert his dominance over aois attention. sometimes subtle. sometimes not. im not talking volo levels of obsession of course but hes still a cunning boy and the best part is he doesnt even realize it. he loves aoi A LOT and he will not make the same mistake that causes him to lose her or this new bond they share.

anon i hear you aois bond with arven is way stronger and meaningful but kieran doesnt know that. and even if he does he does not care. aoi was kierans first love and its love at first sight. shes everything he ever wants to be and now shes everything he ever wants

[sysig]

The most fun you can have, barring the pain and torture (Patreon)

[indecisive-dizzy]

Hi bestie!! :D

If you want to, can you share more about the Phineas and Ferb Welcome Home au?

Definitely!! gah this au is so!! Silly! and wholesome! man I was thinking about sending another ask to you but I forgor :/ curse my adhd brain lol

Anywhoo hmm let's see what I got! ,,,

A lot. I got a Lot haha,,

And we'll start with Families!

Wally and Barnaby, ofc, were adopted by Home when they were younger. He's a single parent who is very supportive of his boys' summer endeavors

Julie lives with her three older siblings! Franny is the only one still in high school. Bea and Jonesy have jobs. Oh her and Frank are still besties! Mostly when Julie goes over to Wally's she's got Frank with her

Frank's got both his parents, his dad is Brazilian and his mom is American. His parents are great (especially his dad, an absolute sweety) no one knows why this kid is such a grump lol. Also Julie is over a lot for sleepovers.

Eddie has a single mom. This kid is such a Mama's boy I can imagine him mentioning her at least once every "episode." She's a great southern mom but can come off as intimidating at times (it's the Mama Bear energy)

Sally has parents but they're irrelevant mostly. She's on her own a lot bc they work pretty much all the time.

Poppy also has parents but they're probably seen once lol. They maybe sheltered her a little too much as a kid and is trying to make up for it by "getting her out there" this summer. Speaking of,,

My brain Exploded when you said Poppy was the kid's babysitter! Her parents def shoved her into it when they were talking to Home about how he needed a sitter.

How I think it goes is Home leaves, leaving Poppy in charge. The gang arrives, and Wally says the iconic "I know what we're going to do today" (order varies) and then Sally shows up. She says hi to Poppy real quick before trying to stop the kids or bust them. Poppy leaves, mentally leaving Sally in charge bc she trusts her to keep the kids safe. So on and so forth!

Ok few more things, how the kids feel about Sally!

Wally is neutral, doesn't understand what she's on about but doesn't mind.

Barnaby thinks her attempts to bust them are hilarious and is constantly poking fun at her.

Frank has beef and sticks his tongue out/blows raspberries at her whenever she tells them to stop doing something.

Julie thinks she's cool and tries to get her to have fun. She's usually the one to drag Sally into their shenanigans where she'll enjoy herself.

Eddie is scared of her. He finds her intimidating and loud and is scared she's gonna get him trouble with his mama.

Overall none of them actively hate her. they're just kids and she's a teen trying to rain on their parade.

Gah ok one more for Howdy

My guy has no "real" trauma. his childhood was fine, he doesn't get along with most his family but that's bc he's a prick. He takes Every Minor Inconvenience and makes it sound tragic like the dramatic worm he is.

He really only gets along with his nephews, Seeya, and his Aunt Toodaloo. Oh and Beeya's the mayor... yeah Howdy doesn't like him but still favors him more over Latter. Toodaloo sends him money that helps fund his schemes, but he's also got investment stocks n such.

His cockiness is his downfall. he's so confident his inventions will work but it always blows up his face (literally). He's incompetent but if he actually took things more seriously then he'd be a genuine threat.

[cha1cedony]

Thinking about all of the teens’ fear of abandonment. I think it’s simultaneously why Normal and Hermie never worked out AND why Lincoln and Scary did lol

[sparfloxacin]

I’ve been thinking about doing a list of something like ”olli/allu things I can’t believe have actually happened” but there are so many things it almost feels too overwhelming to do 😂😭

[sturnioloho]

chris in love based on his mbti type 🥰

[merakiui]

Your tags talking about being alone in the woods with jade made me think of this one thought I had bouncing around in my brain for a while. The thought of being alone with jade at night at the campsite you both put together, sitting by the campfire while drinking something he "borrowed" from the lounge stocks and getting buzzed from it. The innocent touches (which were really just him using the opportunity to getting ever so closer to you) slowly turn into him fucking you into the dirt while you're on your hands and knees.

Sorry if my utter depravity for the eel man bothered you. Your tags made me think of it and I had to let it out.

Omg yes... this is the dream. OTL getting drunk in the forest with Jade and then getting railed into the ground. <3

Imagine if the two of you aren't even that close to begin with. You're only staying in the forest to gather materials because you're partners for a project in Professor Crewel's class. But when Jade reveals a bottle of some pretty-looking liquid and tells you it's come right from the lounge's secret stocks, you have trouble denying him. Jade's good at making the worst ideas sound so pleasant, which is exactly how the two of you end up buzzed and whisper-giggling about the silliest of things around a crackling bonfire.

Alcohol always makes strangers seem so much more attractive, and the amber glow from the dancing flames highlights Jade's handsome features so nicely. You realize he's much closer than he was before, his shoulder practically touching yours as he leans in. Under normal circumstances, Jade would never be this intimate with someone he hardly knows, let alone the human Azul's tasked him with gathering information on (it's strictly business, or so he'll lie). But he can blame the alcohol for that come morning when the sun's risen and the fire is but mere ash and still-warm embers.

It's only natural that teasing, experimental touches will snowball into something more deliberate when inebriation guides you closer to lustful attraction. Wandering hands, fleeting smooches, the shedding of pesky clothes... You'll be on your knees before you know it, with your face pressed into your arms to muffle your moans, while Jade's pounding sloppily into you from behind, his hands gripping your hips so roughly his fingertips leave crescent-shaped indents in your skin. You'll spend a good portion of the night fucking in all sorts of positions, and come morning you'll wake in the tent, curled into each other like two perfect puzzle pieces.

There's a heavy silence that thickens in the air when both of you realize your proximity and slowly detach yourselves. You gather your clothes in awkward silence, dressing as quickly as possible alongside Jade. He tells you he's content with never speaking of what occurred if you are, and you agree immediately. What happens in the forest stays in the forest. You make this truce with a mouth full of granola and a mounting sense of embarrassment.

After taking the tent down, packing your supplies, and cleaning your area, you set off for NRC. Jade spies the bruising bite mark on your neck, just slightly higher than the collar of your shirt and completely visible to anyone who might be looking. He can't help the amused smirk that crawls onto his face. That'll be there for the rest of the week.

And so will your image in his mind, apparently.

[cherry-shipping]

one of the (admittedly many) reasons i love love love LOVE my uf and ht self inserts i think is because all the shit i hate about myself is amplified with them and i LOVE them for it. theyre weird gross perverted overbearing annoying creeps who nobody really feels comfortable around. and its the BEST!!!!!!!!! like yeah they suck shit. they dont know anything and theyre genuinely disturbing and disgusting people. arent they just the BEST