#in case anyone was wondering why i barely write anymore this is why

[dont-touch-the-phlebotinum]

my brain: we need to WRITE!

me: starts writing

my brain:

[rynwritesreid]

You’re on your own| Spencer Reid

Summary: After releasing Spencer will never love you back, you take some time of work to work on your mental health. However, an unsub the team have been working to find, finds you first.

Content: Fem!reader. Threats against life. Mention of weapons. Mention of blood. It’s full of angst (I guess some fluff but not much). This is a bit darker than anything else I’ve written before, but I really enjoyed writing this one. So, I hope you enjoy

A/N: I have written another fic like this called-shattered reflections. If you enjoy this one, you might like that one.

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

4.3k words

You had been in love with Spencer from the moment you had laid your eyes on him, but he most definitely didn’t feel the same way. He had been on dates or fallen in love with serval women while you had known him, and you had just come to terms that you two would never happen, so you just started looking elsewhere.

At work you barely interacted with him anymore. You two weren’t the greatest friends to start off with, but now you only talked to him when necessary. Everyone, but him, had noticed. Luke asked if you two had had an argument or something, but you just shrugged him off. Emily and JJ asked if everything was alright, which you would always say “yes, I don’t know why you don’t think everything if alright.”

 

You were only ignoring him to get over your crush, but you were always seemingly pushing away all of your friends in the process. Emily, JJ, Tara, Luke, and Penelope now never mentioned Spencer around you. They all knew something was going on, but didn’t want to ask, and all you really wanted to do was rant how he never seemed to realise you were right there in front of him.

 

After one practically gruelling case you didn’t speak a word to any of your friends/team while on the flight back, or while in the Quantico. Once you were in the safety of your apartment you burst into tears, wondering if you were ever going to be good enough for anyone. JJ text you asking if you were okay as you seemed abnormally quiet. You didn’t reply. You didn’t want to push anyone away, but this is what you did when you were down.

 

You ignored everyone for the days you had off, putting dnd on your phone. You barely left your apartment and would order food, so you didn’t have to grocery shopping. What you didn’t expect to happen was for Spencer to message you.

 

“Hey, I was wondering if I’ve done something wrong. You haven’t talked to me for a while. You haven’t really talked to anyone. But if I have done something wrong, please tell me.”

 

You wondered if someone had asked him to text you, but you didn’t reply. You just read of the message. He didn’t send another one. But everyone else was constantly checking in on you. You felt bad, but you just didn’t have the energy to reply to them.

 

Once you had returned to work, you said sorry to everyone (but Spencer) for ignoring them and just explained the case hit you hard. Spencer kept looking at you, half expecting you to apologise to him, but you simply just ignored him. He asked everyone why you were doing this, but they all told him they didn’t have a clue.

 

When everyone else had gone to get some lunch, Spencer came up to you.

 

“Hey, are you okay? You have ignored me all day, you didn’t reply to my message. You haven’t even looked in my direction. What have I done?” He seemed defeated. His voice, while it wasn’t filled with pain and sadness, wasn’t exactly a happy voice.

 

“Spencer, you haven’t done anything. I just want to be alone. Please, go back to your desk.” It was a short reply, you didn’t look up at him, or acknowledge his presence.

 

He left, and he didn’t say anything to you. He ignored you, like you ignored him. Everyone was worried, wondering what had happened. Questioning if everything was okay, but like always, you shrugged them off.

 

You hated how you felt, and how you were treating everyone else. Emily suggested, because of your recent behaviour, you take some time off. She wasn’t forcing you too, but both you and her knew it would be for the best. You reluctantly agreed. You did feel like a burden to everyone around you, you felt like you were pulling them down with, which you knew was unfair.

 

As you left the BAU, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything going on around you. You knew deep down that you couldn't keep going on like this. You needed to sort out your feelings and deal with your emotions before you could come back and face everyone again.

 

The first few days of your break were difficult. You couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt that was hanging over you like a dark cloud. You spent most of your days in bed, scrolling through social media, and thinking about all the missed opportunities you had with Spencer. You even considered reaching out to him to apologize, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. It was like your pride was holding you back, and you didn't know how to let go of it.

 

You knew you needed to go outside at one point, even if it was just for a little walk. As you stepped out of your apartment building, the sun hit your face, and you closed your eyes for a moment, soaking in the warmth. You took a deep breath and started walking towards the shops. You could hear the birds chirping, and it was as if the world had come alive. You felt a sense of peace wash over you, and you realized that maybe taking a break was exactly what you needed.

 

After you had picked up some groceries, you walked to one of your favourite parks. You sat on a bench and decided to people watch and make up little stories about the people walking by. You watched people chase after their dogs, and friends share jokes and laughs. It felt tranquil, a moment of bliss in a world full of chaos. You hadn’t replied to anyone, but I think everyone was expecting that.

 

You walked back to your apartment, the peace you once felt had gone. You had a feeling of dreed, like something awful was about to happen to you. You looked around, making sure no one was following you or watching you from a far. You didn’t notice anyone, but you couldn’t put your feelings aside.

 

Just as you were about to reach your apartment, you heard footsteps behind you. You quickly turned around, but no one was there. You shrugged it off, thinking it was just your imagination playing tricks on you. However, a few minutes later, you heard the footsteps again. This time, they were louder and more distinct. Your heart started racing as you began to feel a sense of panic. You picked up your pace, trying to get to your apartment building as quickly as possible.

 

You had reached the safety of your apartment, making sure you had locked the door. You turned on the TV, just to make your apartment less quiet and so that your mind couldn’t wonder. As you sat on your couch, you couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was watching you. You tried to convince yourself that it was just your imagination, but the more you tried to ignore it, the stronger the feeling became. You stood up and walked towards the door, peering through the peephole, but you couldn't see anyone outside.

 

Just as you were about to turn away from the door, you saw a figure in the corner of your eye. You quickly turned back to the peephole, but the figure was gone. You backed away from the door, heart racing and palms sweating.

 

You decided to call Emily, hoping that she would answer and calm you down. She picked up after a few rings, and you could tell from her voice that she was worried.

 

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” Emily asked.

 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. “I don’t know, Emily. I just have this feeling that someone is watching me. I went to the park near where I live, and when I started walking back home, I got this sudden feeling that someone was following me. I don’t want to seem paranoid, but I just can’t shake this feeling.”

 

“Okay. Do you want me to come over?”

 

“No, I don’t think so. I just wanted to tell someone. I kind of wanted you to tell me I sounded stupid and that of course you feel like this, you work to catch bad people all the time, these feelings are normal.”

 

Emily was quiet for a moment before speaking in a calm and reassuring voice. "It's okay to feel scared sometimes. It doesn't make you stupid. And you're right, we catch bad people for a living, so it's normal to feel like this. But if you want, I can come over and we can talk about it more."

 

You felt relieved that Emily didn’t think you were stupid, but you didn’t want to be a burden to her. “No, Em. It’s fine. I’ll text you later.”

 

“Okay. But if you keep feeling like this, call me again and I’ll come straight over.” Emily hung up after saying that.

You turned back on your TV and make some food. Though the feeling persisted, you didn’t call Emily again, you really didn’t want to course any problems for her or be a burden.

 

As the night progressed, the feeling of being watched only grew stronger. You tried to shake it off and distract yourself with TV shows and books, but nothing seemed to help. You couldn't dismiss the nagging sensation of being followed or watched.

 

 You decided to take matters into your own hands and investigate. It was a risky move, but you couldn't just sit around waiting for something to happen. You quickly grabbed your coat and left your apartment, determined to find out who or what was causing these feelings of dread.

 

As you walked down the dimly lit street, you kept looking over your shoulder, trying to spot anyone suspicious. You tried to act casual, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that you were being followed. You quickened your pace, hoping to reach the end of the street before anything could happen.

 

Just as you turned the corner, you saw a shadowy figure standing in the middle of the road. Your heart skipped a beat, and you froze in place. The figure started moving towards you, and you could hear its heavy breathing.

 

You tried to run, but your legs felt like they were made of lead. The figure was getting closer and closer, and you could feel it’s hot breath on your neck. You turned around to face your attacker, but before you could even get a good look at them, they grabbed you and pulled you into an alleyway. You tried to scream, but their hand was firmly over your mouth, muffling any sound.

 

You struggled against your attacker, but their grip was too strong. You could feel their body pressing against yours, and you knew that you were in danger.

 

You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down and think of a way out of the situation. As you opened your eyes, you saw the glint of a knife in the attacker's hand. You knew then that you were in grave danger and started to panic.

 

The attacker pushed you up against the wall, the knife now pressed against your throat. You could feel the cold metal against your skin, and you shuddered in fear.

 

“Don't. Move.” The attacker's voice was low and menacing, and you knew that they weren't going to let you go without a fight.

You tried to reason with them, to plead for your life. “Please...let me go...I won't tell anyone...”

 

The attacker chuckled darkly, and you knew that your words had fallen on deaf ears. They leaned in closer, their breath hot against your face. “Oh, I know you won't tell anyone. Even if you did, they wouldn’t care. You’ve pushed them all away, and now they don’t care about you.”

 

Your heart sank at the attacker's words. They were right - you had been pushing people away, isolating yourself from those who cared about you. But you didn't deserve to die for it. You mustered up all of your courage and looked the attacker straight in the eye.

 

"Please, I don't want to die," you said, your voice trembling. "I'll do anything. Just let me go."

 

“Anything, huh? God, hearing, an FBI agent beg for their life isn’t something I thought I’d ever hear. But here is what is going to happen. You’re going to come with me, not making a sound, and you are going to help me out. Okay?”

 

The attacker loosened their grip on you, and you took the opportunity to nod your head in agreement. You didn't know what they wanted from you, but you knew that you had to do whatever it took to stay alive. You were an FBI agent; you were trained for these situations. You knew how to fight, but right now you were a victim, one who hadn’t be specially trained, one who didn’t know how to handle these types of situations and one who, apparently, had no friends left who would help them out or who cared about them.

 

The attacker led you deeper into the alleyway, their grip firm on your arm. You tried to think of a way out of this, but your mind was blank. You were scared, and you didn't know what was going to happen to you.

 

As you walked, you noticed that the walls of the alleyway were covered in graffiti. You saw a message scrawled on the wall in bright red paint and gasped. It was a message from the notorious serial killer, the one that you had been tracking for months. This couldn't be a coincidence.

 

You turned to the attacker, your heart racing. "Are you working for him? Are you his accomplice?"

 

The attacker smirked. "Why don't you come with me and find out?"

 

You had a feeling that this wasn't going to end well, but you knew that you had to keep your wits about you if you were going to get out of this alive.

 

The attacker led you deeper into the alleyway, their grip firm on your arm. You tried to think of a way out of this, but your mind was blank. You were scared, and you didn't know what was going to happen to you.

 

You followed the attacker through the alleyway, your mind racing as you tried to come up with a plan. You didn't know who this person was or what they wanted, but you knew that you had to stay alert and focused if you were going to make it out of this alive.

The attacker led you to a rundown building on the outskirts of town. They pushed you inside and closed the door behind you. You found yourself in a dimly lit room, the walls covered in damp and mould.

 

The attacker sat down on a chair in the corner of the room, watching you with a cold and calculated gaze. You could feel their eyes on you, and you knew that you were in danger.

"What do you want from me?" you asked, your voice shaking.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to murder anyone. I want you to be a warning to the rest of your team, not to come looking for me. They’ve been working on my case while you’ve been away, and I don’t want them too anymore. So, you, are going to be warning.”

 

You felt a chill run down your spine at the attacker's words. They wanted to use you as a warning to your own team. It was a sick and twisted plan, and you knew that you couldn't let it happen.

 

"I won't be a part of this," you said firmly. "I won't let you use me as a pawn in your twisted game."

 

The attacker laughed, standing up from their chair and walking towards you. "Oh, but you don't have a choice, do you? You either do what I say, or you die. It's that simple."

You stood your ground, staring the attacker straight in the eye. "I'd rather die than become a part of your sick game."

 

The attacker shrugged. "Suit yourself." They pulled out the knife and lunged towards you. He stabbed you, just above your heart. You felt you self-losing hope, even if this one wasn’t fatal, you knew he wouldn’t stop till you were dead. You felt yourself slump to the floor, you knew it wasn’t going to be long till you lost consciousness, you had no fight left in you.

 

As you lay there dying, you thought about all the people you had pushed away. You regretted not reaching out to them, not telling them how much you loved them. You wished you had spent more time with them, made more memories.

 

But it was too late for that now. You closed your eyes, accepting your fate. You wished that you had told Spencer how you felt, and you couldn’t believe that was going to be one of your last thoughts. You heard the man walk away. You felt so weak, you had nothing last. You just gave up, knowing that no one now would really care that you had gone.

Emily had grown worried. You hadn’t texted or called her back. She thought you would have by now. She decided to go to your apartment to check on you. As she walked up to your door, she could hear your phone ringing through the door. She knocked, but there was no answer. Worried, she used her spare key to let herself in.

 

As she walked into your living room, she saw your phone lying on the coffee table. It was Spencer calling, and Emily knew that something was wrong. She called your name, but no reply. She searched your entire apartment looking for you, but you were nowhere. She called JJ to see if she had heard from you, but the last she heard anything from you was when you were last in the office. Everyone else had the same answer when she called them.

 

She asked the team to come over, to see if they could spot anything she couldn’t. Everyone was worried about you. As the team arrived, they saw Emily pacing around the living room, phone in hand. She quickly filled them in on her worries and the fact that you were missing. She explained how you had called her earlier saying that you thought someone was watching you, and that you would call her if anything happened.

 

Spencer was the one to look in your bedroom, as he was searching, he kept thinking how he thought this was somehow his fault. He saw the pictures you had around your room of you and your old college friends, or family pets. But there was no evidence in there of anything. JJ had suggested that you had gone somewhere, but Emily said you wouldn’t go anywhere with your phone. Rossi tried to suggest that maybe you left your phone so that they wouldn’t be able to trace you, but Emily said that was stupid considering that call she had received earlier. Luke and Tara just kept pacing around your apartment, looking for anything, but they found nothing.

 

As the team continued to search your apartment, the sound of Emily's phone ringing filled the silence. She answered it quickly, hoping that it would be you on the other end of the line.

 

"Hello?" Emily said, her voice shaking slightly.

 

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and then a voice spoke. It was distorted, and Emily couldn't make out what it was saying.

 

"Who is this?" Emily demanded, her heart racing.

 

The voice spoke again, and this time Emily could hear it more clearly. "You'll find your friend in an alleyway on the outskirts of town," the voice said. "But you better hurry. She doesn't have much time left."

 

Emily's heart sank as she hung up the phone. The team looked at her, fear etched on their faces.

 

"We have to go find her," JJ said, her voice determined.

 

The team rushed out of your apartment and into the streets, determined to find you before it was too late. They piled into their cars and sped towards the location that the voice had mentioned.

 

As they arrived at the alleyway, they saw a figure lying motionless on the ground. They rushed towards you, praying that it wasn't too late. As they got closer, they saw the blood seeping out of your body and onto the pavement. They knew that they didn't have much time.

 

Spencer checked for a pulse, and thankfully, there was one. They had to act quickly to save you. Rossi called for an ambulance, while JJ and Tara tried to stop the bleeding. Emily sat by your side, holding your hand tightly and praying that you would make it.

 

As the ambulance arrived, the team helped load you onto the gurney. Emily rode with you to the hospital, holding your hand the entire way. She couldn't bear the thought of losing you. She thought about all the times you had laughed together, shared secrets and dreams. She couldn't imagine a world without you in it.

 

As the doctors rushed you into surgery, the team waited anxiously in the waiting room. They didn't know if you would make it or not, but they knew they had to have faith. They sat together, silent, and scared, waiting for any news.

 

No one could bear the thought of losing you, you were always there for them. Not long ago you would have answered their calls and listened to them rant about everything and anything. Spencer, though, felt the worst out of all of them. He was good at his job, he had known for some time that you had feelings for him, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have any for you, but he didn’t want to lose someone else he loved. He silently cried, hoping you would make it.

 

As the hours ticked by, the team was filled with anxiety and worry. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the surgeon emerged from the operating room.

 

"Is she okay?" Emily asked, her voice trembling.

The surgeon sighed. "She's stable, but it was touch and go for a while. We managed to stop the bleeding, but the knife wound was deep. She's still in critical condition, but we're hopeful that she'll make a full recovery."

 

The team breathed a collective sigh of relief. They knew that you still had a long road ahead of you, but at least you were alive. They thanked the surgeon and waited patiently for you to be brought to a room.

 

As they sat by your bedside, they could see the machines monitoring your vitals. They could hear the steady beeping of the heart monitor, and they knew that it was a good sign. Emily held your hand tightly, tears streaming down her face.

 

Spencer watched from the corner of the room, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. He wished he had told you how he felt sooner before it was almost too late. He wished he had been the one to protect you from harm, instead of the one who inadvertently caused it. He knew he had a lot to make up for if you were to recover.

 

In the days that followed, the team took turns staying by your side, never leaving you alone for a moment. They brought you flowers, cards, and small gifts, hoping to bring some comfort during your recovery. Spencer was always there, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement. He was determined to make things right with you, to show you how much he cared.

 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you opened your eyes. You saw the team surrounding you, and Spencer's face filled with relief. You tried to speak, but your throat felt dry and sore. Emily handed you some water.

 

As you took a sip of water, you looked around the room and saw the worried faces of your team. You knew that something bad had happened, but you couldn't remember what it was. You tried to speak again, but your throat was still too sore.

 

Emily leaned in closer to you. "You were attacked," she said softly. "But you're going to be okay."

 

As the memories flooded back, you felt a wave of fear wash over you. You remembered the pain of being stabbed and the feeling of helplessness as you lay bleeding on the ground. But as you looked around the room, you saw the love and support of your friends, and you knew that you weren't alone.

 

Spencer leaned in close to you. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I should have protected you."

 

You shook your head weakly. "It wasn't your fault," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

 

But Spencer wouldn’t hear it. “But you took time off because of me, and don’t pretend you didn’t. If, if I had said anything to you, then you wouldn’t have done that and you wouldn’t be laying in this hospital bed.”

 

“Spencer, please don’t blame yourself. None of this is your fault, and you didn’t need to say anything to me. Sometimes the person you love doesn’t love you back and that’s okay. But the man who did this got into my head and told me I was on my own, and that you guys didn’t care about, and that I pushed you all away. I’m so sorry for how I treated you.”

 

Spencer squeezed your hand. "You have nothing to apologize for. We're just glad you're okay."

 

You smiled weakly at him, grateful for his kind words. You knew that it would take time to heal both physically and emotionally, but you also knew that you had the support of your friends.

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[teez-the-time]

dear may, i had to stop reading your san warrior fic a few times because my eyes are just filled with tears. 😭💕

excuse my wordings as i am not a writer but more so of a reader instead but your whole writing was done in such a wonderful way that i was left speechless and of course, in tears once again.

sannie written as such hopeless romantic and absolutely brave warrior is so accurately depicted that i truly believe he definitely can be one in his past life! 🙈

i guess as i am typing this, i just want to thank you so much for this brilliant piece of art that you decided to share with us here. 💖

hope this is just the first of many from you! 🥹

- ✨anon

MY. HEART. STOP.

No but, ever since I posted "Choi San, Wolf Warrior" I've received so many heartwarming messages and reviews that I literally had to sit down. You really have no idea how much a little support means to someone who never expected any kind of reaction from others. While I planned to continue posting my stories even if no one saw them, these kind of messages encourage me to keep exploring my potential.

I was SUPER nervous when I posted the story. For a moment, I even thought of deleting it and never having it see the light of day. I'm glad I didn't. I also contemplated making a second part, but ultimately decided to leave it as it is and not wear off the magic. Nevertheless, seeing that you like it so much...I present you a little story of Y/N and San before the big events of the story.

Lastly, dear anon: I obviously don't know you, but thank you for that beautiful message. Keep supporting ATINY authors with your sweet words, since many will appreciate them.

XOXO -May

Pairing: Warrior! San x Chief's daughter! Fem! Reader

Genre: fantasy, action, romance

Warnings: some cursing and metions of sex, but nothing explicit, Y/N and San are both whipped pt. 2.

Wc: 1.8k

Taglist: @darkdayelixer

You could barely see the ground in front of you as you walked through one of the furthest parts of the village in the middle of the night. It was way past the usual time you would have been home asleep, but one of your friends had come to you begging for your help. Apparently, San had come back with the other young men of the village from a successful hunt and was celebrating with some of your friends.

The problem?

Choi San, the fearless warrior, had lost to alcohol and now refused to stop drinking despite being pretty drunk. Seeing that no one was able to make him desist on his attempt to become a rum barrel, your friends resorted to an infallible plan: getting you to take him home.

That’s why you now found yourself walking on a dark path, alone, cursing his name to all the gods above.

May god curse that lightweight idiot, you thought to yourself.

You heard the laughter before you saw anyone. Partially hidden by a dense patch of trees and bushes, the young people of your village used the clearing as a meeting spot for this type of gathering. Consumed by your duties as the chief’s daughter, you had to excuse yourself from attending the party with your friends.

Well, I guess not anymore.

Your friends were scattered around the place. The majority stood in groups in different parts of a small clearing, others sat down on stools. A small group sat on the floor, listening to one of the boys play a guitar. At last, you saw San sitting with some mutual friends around a small wooden table. He couldn’t see you, as his back faced you (but you could recognize his blushed ears anywhere), and nobody seemed to have noticed your presence so far. You walked towards him, trying to be as silent as possible in case someone saw you. It’s not like you didn’t like this type of gathering, but it was pretty late and you had to get San back to his house and then go back to yours. You couldn’t stay for much.

As you approached the group, you could hear San talking, and from your friends’ expressions, he was talking nonsense.

“I am telling you,” he was insistent, but the slur of his words wasn’t very convincing, “no one can compare. Fucking impossible. I witness it with my two eyes every single day. The standards are so high it’s fucking ridiculous”.

You wondered what the hell he was talking about, but as you got closer, you caught your friend Wooyoung’s eyes. He showed you his mischievous smile before turning back to his drunk friend.

“Sanie, but what the hell are you talking about?” he asked San, who made an exasperated gesture.

“Are you dumb or deaf, Jung Wooyoung?” San sloppily motioned for his friends to listen carefully. “I’ll repeat it one more time ‘cause apparently y’all have been hit in the head enough times to become stupid. Y/N is the most perfect human being to ever exist”.

Your eyes widened, and the people that had noticed you started laughing. San didn’t like that. “What the fuck are you laughing at? Listen to me. Liiiisten. Wait, I got dizzy. Okay, I’m good again. So, listen to me”.

“Y/N is literally sooooo perfect sometimes it gets ridiculous. Like, she is so beautiful it doesn’t make sense. None at all. And it’s all the time. Not once in her life has she ever been ugly. No, wait. One time, when we were eleven, she slipped on sheep shit and got covered in it. She smelt horrible and cried like a baby. But now that I think about it, she looked so cute even though she was embarrassed. Goddammit!”

He covered his face, as he couldn’t bear the flutter of his heart. San dragged his hands through his cheeks and continued talking. “And that’s, like, just from the outside. From the inside, she is sooooo smart. Way too smart for her good actually. Hongjoong hyung, you are clever, but you look dumb compared to her. Sometimes, I feel like I’m too stupid to be with her.” He interrupted his speech with a gasp of horror. “Oh my god! What if she leaves me for someone more intelligent?”

His friend, Seonghwa, swatted his arm. “Yah, Sanie! Don’t even think about that!”

San downed the whole mug of beer he had been holding despite everyone’s protests. “But I’m right! She’s so much fucking better than me. She’s beautiful, smart, kind, responsible, and everyone loves her! Hell, I think my parents like her more than me. I mean, I don’t know, but I don’t blame them. Oh, and there’s nothing she can’t do. I’m not joking. She knows medicine, she helps her dad, and she even cooks. Her kimchi, hyung!”. He let out a hiccup and a sniff. “Wait, what was I talking about? Oh right, Y/N. Yes! She’s even good at sex-”

That was your cue to stop his drunk rambles. “Woah, woah. Time for me to stop this party for you, sir.”

San didn’t pay you attention and kept rambling. “Oh no, I promised her that I wouldn’t talk about her like that. Forget the last part. I didn’t say shit about sex. It’s just…it’s just…I haven’t seen her since we left and I miss her sooooo much”. He stopped, his eyes widening. “Gods, I think I even heard her voice just now”.

If your friends weren’t laughing at San’s drunken antics before, they certainly were now. You put your hand on his shoulder. “Sanie, I’m here. It’s time to go home”.

San looked at you as if he had seen a ghost. “Oh my gods! I’m starting to hallucinate”.

In any other circumstance, you would’ve been rolling on the floor with laughter, but you were getting more and more frustrated with him. “San. You are drunk. Time to come home”.

“No!” he refused, holding the empty mug to his chest and pouting, “I won’t follow a fake Y/N. Get out, you impostor!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Sanie, I’m not a fake. It’s me Y/N. I came here to take you home”.

San narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Hmm, I still don’t believe you. Tell me something only the real Y/N would know!”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the first time he had pulled something similar. You sighed and answered his demand. “Your name is San and your family name is Choi”.

With that simple answer, his entire face lit up. He grinned from ear to ear and grabbed your hand. “You are my Y/N! Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

You had to fight the urge to knock his teeth out, as it would be too bothersome to explain to his parents how his son lost them. “Yes, I am Y/N. Come with me”.

You didn’t have to repeat yourself. Without letting go of your hand, he grabbed the few things he had brought with him and stood up from his seat. His smile was unwavering. “Let’s go home, darling. It’s way too late for you to be out!”

Drunk San was more ridiculous than normal San, so you made no effort to point his logic out. You just slung his arm over your shoulders to help him walk and said goodbye to your friends (who weren’t also totally hammered and didn’t make some colourful suggestions about home activities).

Even if you were annoyed by how drunk San was, you had to admit he was pretty funny when he was in this state. It wasn’t usual for him to drink this much, or at all, which was something you would have to inquire later. But, for now, you enjoyed the nonsense he was humming and muttering. The warmth of his body comforted you in the middle of the night chill.

“My love,” he called out to you. Lately, he seemed more comfortable calling you that in more public settings. “My love, Y/N. I have to admit something”.

“What is it, Sanie?” you inquired.

“I am drunk,” he said dead-seriously, “like super drunk. I don’t know why I drank so much. I am sorry”.

You held back a laugh, hearing how upset he sounded by the end of the sentence. “It’s okay, Sanie. You don’t have to apologise. I’m not mad.”

“Are you sure?” he asked and you repeated your answer. “You’re literally the best ever. I was gonna say best friend, but you aren’t my best friend anymore”.

“Oh?” you played along, knowing there was something he wanted to say, “then who is your best friend now? Wooyoungie? Yeosangie?”

San shook his head energetically. “Nop. They can’t compare to you. You are my best friend, but, like, you aren’t my friend. I don’t like any words for you. You…you are…my love. My Y/N”.

In the middle of that night, on the road you both took together to go home, you choked at San’s confession. You were always impressed at how he wore his heart on his sleeve, never afraid of judgment or rejection. You, on the other hand, were more reluctant to let others in, your guard having been broken by only a few; one of which you carried on your shoulders at this very moment. 

“Me too…” you said barely above a whisper, “I can’t find a word for you, my love…”

For a few moments, neither of you said a word, letting the silence speak for yourselves. You could feel he was regaining sobriety, although a throbbing headache would be waiting for him in the morning. His house stood at the end of the road, and yours wasn't too far away. It was time to say your goodbyes for the night, but you were already planning on stopping by again to leave him some medicine.

"Y'know, we're already twenty," San stated the obvious once again, "we only have to wait two more years".

You didn't dare to say anything. You both arrived at his door, and San removed his arm from your shoulders, but he didn't let go of you. Instead, he placed a hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to him. His other hand found nest on your cheek. From that distance, you could see speckles of moonlight in his eyes, who looked at you with intensity.

"Gods, I can't wait for those two years," he whispered before capturing your lips with his. You reciprocated the kiss, tangling your hands on the hair of his nape. It tasted like alcohol but, somehow, San made it sweeter.

It was perfect, just like him.

You broke away for air, but it wasn't enough for San. He pecked your lips twice more before removing himself from you. You helped him open the door to his home, as he still struggled with basic coordination. He turned around to look at you for one last time, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you~," he grinned and waved at you excitedly as he closed the door slowly. San's figure disappeared from your sight, but you heard a couple of stumbles and curses from the inside.

You smiled to yourself.

I can't wait either.

[george-weasleys-girl]

Hello lovely I don't know if you might like this idea but I was wondering if you could do story where the reader is from a Slytherin and George's friends tell him he can't make the girl fall in love with him, so he does it and she does false for him and he also falls for her and then she finds out that it was all a bet, and I don't know you can give it the end you want I just have that idea in my mind from a long time and I think you are the only one that can make it truth , also if you can make it Smutty that will be great. Anyway if you don't do it it's okay I just thought I could ask you and well thank you and I love your writing and I also love your George stories.🥰

The Serpent and the Lion

George Weasley x Fem Slytherin!reader

Chapter 1

Warnings: none, yet. Hint at angst. Smut, eventually.

~•~

George had never expected things to get serious. At most, it'd be a quick fling. If it even got that far. He never actually believed that a Slytherin would fall for a Gryffindor. And yet, she did.

And he fell for her.

Hard.

Harder than he'd ever fallen for anyone in his life.

And now it all lay in ruins because his stupid twin brother couldn't keep his big mouth shut.

"I can't believe you actually fell in love with her," Fred stared at his twin.

"Well, I did!" George clapped back. "And now, thanks to you, her heart is broken! And so is mine..." The last bit came out as barely a whisper, but Fred heard it anyway.

"Look mate, I - I'm sorry. I never thought that little crush of yours - " he reached out to pat George's shoulder, but his twin shrugged him off.

"Leave me alone," he mumbled and rose to grab his coat.

"Where are you going?" Fred stepped in front of him.

"I don't know. Somewhere I can think. Somewhere I can maybe figure out how to win Y/N back." He pushed around Fred. "Somewhere away from you."

~•~

3 months earlier

"I'm not fifteen years old anymore," George rolled his eyes.

"No, but you did have a crush on her when you were fifteen," Fred countered. "Now's your chance."

"I did not have a crush on her."

"Oh really?" Fred teased. "Is that why you were sneaking peeks at her every five seconds?"

"I was not sneaking... Look, I'll admit she's pretty... was pretty," George huffed. "But that didn't mean I wanted to go out with her. She's a Slytherin. Opposite of Gryffindor. Enemy of Gryffindor. In case you've forgotten."

Fred raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Hey, if you think you've lost your touch..."

"Yeah, you are a little out of practice these days," Lee grinned. "When was the last time you went out on a date? Three months?"

"Or is it six months?" Fred smirked.

"Oh shove off, the both of you," George muttered and headed for the door. "I'm going for a walk."

"Uh huh. A walk, you say," Lee teased.

"Hey! Don't forget to say hello to our new neighbor for me," Fred yelled as his twin stomped away.

~•~

'How did they remember that stupid little crush?' George wondered, slamming the door behind him.

Hell, how did they even notice? He'd never said anything. To anyone. Not even Fred.

George sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. He should've known. Of course, Fred had noticed.

And remembered.

And now that Y/N had opened up an apothecary next door to the joke shop, Fred dove in for the kill. Because that's what Fred did.

~•~

George wandered around the new apothecary in awe. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. Gone were the barrels of oozing slime. Gone was the smell of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Instead, the once horrid miasma was replaced with the scent of mint and fresh flowers. Everything sparkled and gleamed as if it were brand new.

"Hi," said a soft voice behind him. "Can I help you find something?"

"Oh, um, hi," George fumbled. "I was, uh, just taking a look around. New shop and all," he turned in a slow circle. "It's loads different than the last apothecary. Brighter. Cleaner. Not a dungheap."

"Oh good," she nodded, the corners of her lips quirking up. "Not a dungheap was the exact aesthetic I was going for."

"Wait, I didn't mean ‐ " George whirled around to face her, his ears burning red hot. "I just meant that you've worked wonders. I can see my reflection in the chair cushions."

Y/N burst out laughing, sending an uncertain smile, along with a new wave of heat across his face. "You can see your reflection in the chair cushions? I'll take that as a compliment. Especially coming from the illustrious George Weasley."

George's jaw dropped. "You know who I am?"

"Of course I know who you are," she grinned. "Doesn't every ‐ "

" 'Scuse me miss," an elderly gentleman interrupted, tapping Y/N on the shoulder. "Could you tell me where to find the Horklump juice?"

"Of course, sir. Right this way," she said, then turned back to George. "If you need help with anything, just let me know."

The redhead watched Y/N as she disappeared around the corner, his mind tumbling back to his school days when a person was defined by their House, and the very idea of a Gryffindor dating a Slytherin was downright sacrilege.

Now, it didn't matter. Well, not as much. Things were changing. Albeit slowly. Yet, they were changing.

But more to the point...

She knew who he was.

George.

Not one of the Weasley twins.

Not Gred or Forge.

George.

She knew him.

~•~

"You're still here!" Y/N smiled, looking genuinely surprised. "I would've thought you'd be long gone by now."

Normally, he would have, being nearly an hour before she made her way back over to him. But she changed all that the moment she called him by his name. He was hooked now. "Decided to do a little bit of shopping," he said with a non-chalant shrug. "I noticed you have a few rare items." He held up a large sachet of Winterweed.

"Ah, Winterweed," Y/N nodded. "One of my most popular and hard to keep in stock items. It's because their growing time is so long. It takes two years for them to reach full maturity," she explained. "Not to mention, to achieve full potency, they must be harvested in the three days surrounding the winter solstice."

"Huh," George looked thoughtful. "I knew about the first part, but not the second."

"Most people don't, and too many producers take advantage of that and sell sub-par products at premium prices," she shook her head and opened up the sachet, pulling out a small vine. "See this vein running through the middle?"

George nodded, peering down at the little herb.

"It should be a bright neon blue. If it's white or pale blue, it was picked too early. If it's purple, it was picked too late."

"Wow, thanks," George marveled, uncertain whether he was more mesmerized by the unrestrained passion in her voice or the bright sparkle dancing in her eyes when she talked about something she so obviously loved.

"Of course," she smiled. "Is there anything else I can help you with before I ring you up?"

"How 'bout dinner?" he blurted out.

"Dinner?" Y/N froze, her eyes staring unblinking into his for a few long moments. "Did you just ask me out?"

"Y-yeah," George stammered. "I did."

She scrutinized him for a few seconds longer. "Why?"

The younger twin was taken aback. "Why?"

"Yeah. Why do you want to go out with me?"

"Because you... um... because you knew me. You knew I'm George. Not Fred. That doesn't happen often. Actually, that really doesn't happen at all. Not on the first meeting anyway."

"Oh," Y/N blinked. "Well, ok, then." A shy smile crossed her face. "Dinner sounds great."

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1Lellykins @junerprsh @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe

@smallsweetvanillabean @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @el-de-phi @lizzytrees @spididerman @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @theimpossible-girl-whowaited @ceehance @Havenater1920 @jelloangela @charmedfandomgal @loca4moony @whotfskai @netflix-addict @moonatician @lunacurlclaw @sierraluvzz @min-aaa @now-that-we-dontalk @lillisummers

[sasheneskywalker]

batfamily fic recs which are told through unusual formatting

a hat fashioned from tin foil by discowing (ameliafromafairytale) nightwang @karakurachou – 8 hours ago jason todd is alive and faked his death so he could become robin: a conspiracy theory thread

Batfam conspiracy theories meet social media.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | No Relationships

occam's razor by BeatriceEagle r/SolveIt • Posted by u/Phalangefier 3 days ago

It's the fifth anniversary of Jason Todd's death

Today is the fifth anniversary of the day that Jason Todd and Sheila Haywood were murdered, so I thought I would post a write-up unifying all of the information that we have on the case. There have been a lot of posts about Jason over the years, but this case is so weird and has so many branches to it, I don’t think that anyone’s ever compiled all of them in one place.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson & Jason Todd

Send to All by kerosceene I, _______________, hereby acknowledge that this form represents my wishes should I contract phytoaphrodisiac-induced delirium (hereafter referred to as “PAID”) during engagements with or while apprehending Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley (“Poison Ivy”).

-

The bats have a sex pollen release form. Because of course they do.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

Batman Hits the Red Hood with His Batarang by redboard (Ink) Batman hears whispers of a new crime lord in Gotham, trailing blood and carnage in his wake. The Red Hood is skilled and ruthless, and quickly seizes control of the drug trade, seemingly for his own ends.

Red Hood, after years of planning, your moment has finally arrived. Why have you come?

An "Under the Red Hood"-themed tabletop game, for one or two players. You will need colored dice (or a dice roller), your imagination, and, optionally, a friend who has as many feelings about Jason Todd as you do.

(Yes, I'm serious. This is not a bit.)

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

#Justice4Gotham by Havendance So, uh, Hi. I’m still alive. I didn’t die of the clench (barely). I’m kind of sorry for disappearing on you for so long but life just got really busy and I didn’t really have time to chase after Batman and Robin anymore. I’m not sure how many of you guys still check this blog, but if you are out there, I’ve got a big favor to ask you all.

On June 27th at 7:03pm, Gotham City was hit by the worst earthquake the east coast has seen in, like, ever. And now we could really use your help.

[Or: When you run out of things you can do, there’s always yelling at the world from the blog you made when you were ten.]

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | No Relationships

Night Blogger by AnonDude There's a blogger catching the internet's attention with a long, insane, and twisted tale. The problem is, he seems to persist under the impression that he's just a random anonymous blogger looking for advice on his relationship. That's all.

QuillsNFrills: I like your first entry! But I'm a little unsure as to what genre you're aiming for here; it seems a little confused and all over the place. It's clear you want it to be something more lurking under the guise of a simple relationship blog, but is that…mystery? Thriller? A dark romance? Sci-fi/fantasy/magic (with the…whatever is going on with BF's head)? I'm also kind of wondering if I'm reading right that maybe there are hints this isn't a reliable narrator? Maybe that will continue…eyes. Anyway, keep up the good work! – April 15, 2023 –

BlueberryPancakes: this […] only continued to get MORE wild, and despite the "clearing up"…I still don't know whether to believe […] it's supposed to be an obvious red herring and this is all an Experience^tm, or whether this is really OP's life. – April 17, 2023 –

M | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | Tim Drake/Jason Todd

[satancopilotsmytardis]

How do you go about writing your fan fictions? I personally kind of just go for it, but I end up loosing the flow and it gets all jumbled up and doesn’t really make any sense.I’ve noticed in a few of your sneak-peaks sometimes your writing is written like a script, or they are random short snippets.

I’m hoping to fix the flow of my writing, and not loose motivation as quickly.

I also usually just start writing. For the most part what I publish is almost exactly what I wrote for my rough draft with just some grammar/spelling edited (if I remember to bother with it before just throwing it up, or if I'm not practically falling asleep before I publish it).

The screenshots that are snippets are taken from scenes that are already fully written, then I just decide on a paragraph or two that I think get the idea across most clearly. The screenshots of writing that looks like it's formatted like a script are probably specifically from my Data Leak WIP, where I'm showing text messages from the characters! That's a way to represent those texts stylistically, and not how I typically write/draft.

When you guys see anything with bullet points, that's my outlining process. Normally that happens after I've already written a chunk of the story and determine I need some of those notes to make sure I don't forget about elements that I was foreshadowing just in case I step away for a while. For example, here is the chapter summary/outline for chapter 3 of Dalliance:

I knew this one was going on the WIP rotation so I wrote down everything I remembered wanted to be in that scene so I had a play-by-play when I got back to it. If you struggle with maintaining motivation for projects, then outlining with a full chapter summary can help ensure that you remember where you wanted to go in case you take a step back for a while.

But if I know I'm doing something in a bigger chunk I don't bother with that and only make short notes. For the Pet!Shifter Dabi story, this is all I have for my outline:

It's just the bare minimum of notes, but they act as anchor points for my story. These are three scenes that I want to hit, anything around these scenes can change or be adapted, even these scenes themselves can be adjusted, it all just depends on what the narrative is doing once I get deeper into the writing. If you're struggling with your flow becoming incoherent, then setting anchor points in a loose outline can help with this. You can always look at the point you are aiming on getting to, look at your current trajectory and adjust accordingly. Sometimes you might notice that the original plan isn't working anymore, that's okay too, as long as you can replace the point you were originally going to with one that is as concrete/makes just as much sense, then making that change can help your story grow.

As far as losing motivation goes, it really, genuinely does help to share your work with a few people/online who motivate you to keep going. I know that when I was in college I was writing at a similar rate as I am now because I was working on my degree. However, once I left, I slowed down a lot until I finally started posting again over the last year. If you have other writer friends then sharing with them can be a great way to keep going!

And for anyone wondering why I'm working in Comic Sans: No joke, writing in Comic Sans can genuinely help you to write faster/not be as precious with your work. And I'm writing on green with gray text because it helps me with my eyestrain after spending so much time on my computer for writing and work!

I hope this can help, but everyone writes in very different ways, and it really, genuinely can take a while to figure out what works best for you! Good luck, you've got this!

[morgansunflower]

My Letter To You 1/2

Single! Dad! Jason Todd X Reader

Warnings:suggestive content, explicit language and angst

Words:1130

Arthur's notes! Third P. O. V, based loosely off of Batman:Wayne Family Adventures season 2 episode #53. Jason is 23...

Tyler knows his Dad is lonely so he decided to make him create a dating profile. This brings up many old memories of Jason's first love.

Requested taglist @too-strong-to-lose

Jason sighed defeated having been caught red handed by his red headed sister "look Tyler talked me into doing it OK!"

"Aww your little boy wants you to be happy"

Jason softly scoffed, for some reason he couldn't bring himself to really date anyone.. Because he would always compare them to her. His first love. His first everything. She knew him before he died. They were high-school sweethearts. Grayson used to joke about them getting married before he and Babs did. Sometimes he'd think about calling her.. Would she even care? He knew she really did at one point and time. Back home in his lonely bed. Jason couldn't sleep. He walked into his closet reaching up to his old guitar case. He turns his lamp on. He puts the case on his bed and opens it. He softly sighed remembering playing cheesy love songs to make her laugh. He used the zipper to open a small pouch. He reaches in taking out the memorabilia of their relationship. The prom pictures, she was the reason he wore that absolutely ridiculous tux. The copy of one picture he kept one in the case and the other in his wallet. The photo booth pictures from the carnival. Then one of Grayson photo bombing the picture. He then found their last picture together. Letters she wrote to him, when he came back wanting him to know that she still cared. That was a long time ago. He's much better now, but certainly not full. He takes a deep breath. She was the first person he remembered when he came back. He wanted to see her, but how could he expect her to love him again?

"Dad?" Tyler softly said, rubbing his eyes to adjust to the lamp lit in his Dad's room.

The red head was wearing his dad's shirt that went down to his ankles and his wonder-woman themed pajama pants.

Jason softly yawned stretching his strong muscles "hey pal. Watcha doin otta bed?" Jason asked his little boy.

"can't sleep, guess you can't either. What are you looking at?"

"oh just old pictures of a friend of mine" Jason said softly.

"ohh a girlfriend?!" Tyler asked ruining to look at the pictures

"guess you could say that" Jason softly laughed at his son's excitement.

"tell me about her. You love her? Is she cool?" Tyler takes the picture looking at her, she had a kind smile.

"she's amazing. She and I had dated when I was in high school.. I did love her.. Your old man almost tied the not with her"

"what happened?" Jason remained silent letting him guess "ohh.. And you haven't talked to her?"

"nope.." Jason truly regretted not talking to her, but it was.. Hard. She was so great and he wasn't ok.. A thought of her name could pull him from a nightmare.

"why not?"

Jason sighed feeling nervous to even see her again "oh I don't know pal"

"I'll let take down the profile if you call her!.. I don't want you to be sad anymore" Tyler pleaded

Jason was taken aback "Tyler! I'm not sad kid.. I'm ok" Jason felt guilt his son saw how lonely he really is.

"no you are not Dad. C'mon please call her! Or hey right a letter if your too scared" he suggested with a smirk

"scared!" Jason exclaimed and then tickled his son. Making Tyler laugh "I'm not scared of anything you little twerp!"

He was terrified. Jason could barely make himself actually call her. So he did the next best thing. He wrote to her. That morning Y/N flipped through her boring mail and bills....until she saw one with his hand writing

"Jason!" she gasps.

She quickly opens the letter and reads.

~Dear, Y/N

I've been trying to get the guts to call you but I can't find the right words to say. So I'm doing the most cheesy thing and writing you. I don't really know where to start. It's been so long since I have seen you. I started a stupid dating profile because my son thinks his old man needs to have a girlfriend. I adopted him a year ago so no girl as been in my life. Guess no one came along who was like you. No one is like you. You never really had been forgotten in my mind. I still have the letters you sent to me when I came back from the dead. I'm sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. I honestly didn't think I could be good enough after all that happened. I guess what I'm trying to let you know is that I miss you. I want to reconnect. You're all I think about in my good and especially in my low moments. I know I've got baggage emotions and all with a great little red headed boy who would love to meet you. I hope you are doing great and life is treating you well. Call me if you want what I want hot stuff.

Love, Jason~

The letter brought her to tears. She reaches for her phone. She takes a deep breath and instantly empathizes with Jason's nerves. She calls him.

"DAD!! DAD!! DAD!! SHE'S CALLING YOU!!" Tyler said from the Wayne family room

"who's calling?" Grayson softly laughed amused by his nephew.

"ohh someone's excited! Is she your girlfriend Jay" Stephanie joked while also genuinely curious.

Jason takes the phone. He can't wreck this. She's his only. She is everything. He answered swallowing hard.

"hi Y/N" he casually said while his heart leaped

"Y/N?!!!" Grayson exclaimed, Jason kicked his shin.

Y/N laughed having heard Jason's older brother.

"hi Jason.. I just got your letter"

"you did.." he stammered looking at his family staring at him intently.

Jason walked out of the room his heart pounding.

"yeah, I thought it was really kind and you really made me realize how much I miss you too" she smiled wishing she could hug him and kiss him.

He made it to his old room shutting the door behind him "you do?" he asked surprised but also very grateful

"I do. I was even thinking that I do want to reconnect with you too. Your baggage is not something that's going to scare me away. I actually would love to meet your little boy and do all the things you want to do"

"ALL the things" he smirked with a smug tone

"easy there tiger" she chuckled getting a little bit flustered

"make me.. Say Friday night, that's when I drop Tyler off at the Manor" Jason suggested his heart making him smile.

"Friday sounds perfect" she said with her own heart leaping at the thought of seeing him again.

[skvatnavle]

Werewolf Matt Murdock x reader

Warnings: Aight peeps, buckle up. Eerie ambience, angst, were!Matt, bones breaking, dismembering, dead bodies, blood, biting, leaving bruises. SMUT! Unprotected sex, creampie, tender yet rough sex (is that a thing?), guilt, self hate, some fluff. I think that's it 😅

Notes: This is part of "The Moon in May" writing challenge. This week I was inspired by the words claim and territory.

Thanks to @mindidjarin for listening to all my ramblings about this, for your support and for beta reading this over and over (If you never read it again, I get why 😆❤️) and to @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta reading and for helping me through my mini crises I had over this (Sorry, but thank you 😄❤️).

And finally to @loverhymeswith for making yet another gorgeous header for me. Love it! 🥰

Words: 4083

Beast Within masterlist

Turning on the tv, the hosts of your favourite morning show are yet again talking about the horrific events that've been happening lately. Another body was found last night, torn apart and barely recognizable. Limbs and blood everywhere, just like the other times. People were scared, panic spreading throughout the streets of New York. Not only were they torn to pieces, but the flesh was full of teeth and claw marks. It looked like the work of an animal, but what kind? Wolves and bears might be something you would find in the woods of Montana or something, but in the middle of New York City? No.

Everyone was talking about what it could be, speculating. In times like these, anything could be possible. For a long time, there had been a devil in Hell’s Kitchen. Some say he protects the city, others that he is a menace. But one thing people could agree on, was wondering why he hadn’t stopped this beast yet.

You switch the channel, not wanting to hear anymore. Because you already know. 

It happened a month and a half ago, a little over a month after you met Matt, your bookstore stranger - 36 days to be exact, and 6 dates in all, and yet you just knew. Something in your gut told you that this one was special, and you felt closer to Matt than you had anyone else in a long time. Even though he had tried to convince you he was not worthy of your time, you had been persistent, seeing something in him.

And you had been right. He was funny, so smart and incredibly charming. Conversations would flow easily, hours feeling like mere minutes in his company. It was effortless and never had you felt so comfortable around another person so fast. It felt like it was meant to be. 

True, Matt did seem on the edge at times, like there was something nagging him, but you knew he was working on an important case and was under a lot of stress. But he seemed to relax the more time he spent in your company and the feeling was mutual.

Then everything changed.

Matt calls you, his voice strained from pain, as he asks you to come meet him, pleading for your help. Soon after you find yourself in front of an abandoned building. Hesitantly, you walk in. The faint smell of mold hanging in the air, dust covering the surfaces. In the poorly lit room, you can see a boxing ring. Punching bags hanging from the ceiling, the wind coming through the door making them swing gently, the rusty hinges creaking in the dark.

Your heart is pounding, as you cautiously take another step forward, thoughts running through your head. Bodies had been found, torn apart, all over Hell’s Kitchen for the last month. So why did you think it smart to enter an abandoned building at dusk? Well, the answer was simple. Because Matt needed you.

Calming yourself, you call out for him, your voice barely above a whisper. His voice sounds in the distance, beaconing you further into the building, into the darkness. 

In the back, you find Matt. Instantly, you can see he’s in pain so you run to him. His shirt drenched, the sweat pouring off him and as you touch him, you flinch at the heat. He’s burning up. But before you can speak, Matt looks into your eyes. Filled with darkness, it's like he stares into your soul.

“I need your help, sweetheart.”

His voice is coarse, like he’s been screaming for hours. Body trembling, it looks like he can barely stand up. His grip tightens around a chain, hoisting himself up, standing straighter.. And that’s when you notice. The chains. Falling from the ceiling, bolted to the walls and floor, they are everywhere. At the end of some are cuffs, four small and one bigger. Hands, feet and… neck…

You swallow hard, you take a step back, feeling very uneasy. Heart pounding, you’re scared of what might happen, what’s going on. There are chains enough to restrain something huge. But why?

“Matt, I… What’s going on?”

“I… I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

Trembling, he tries to straighten, looking in your direction. His words makes your blood run cold and for the first time, you don’t feel safe in Matt’s company, scared of what he’s been hiding from you.

“What are these chains for?” 

Your voice weak, it almost breaks as you look at the man you’ve come to care about, not even sure you want to hear the answer.

“They’re for me. I don’t want to kill again…”

Gasping, you take another step backwards, fighting the urge to run and never look back. A single tear runs down Matt’s cheek, as his bloodshot eyes look to you, a silent prayer hanging in the air. Please don’t go.

Matt growls out in pain as a series of sickening cracks and pops erupt from his body, the like of which you’ve never heard before - Was… was that a bone breaking? You swallowed down bile at the thought. Torn, you don’t know whether to run away or run to his side. Rooted to the spot, fear runs through you, seeping into every fibre of your body. Matt’s hand clenches around the chain, making the metal shriek under the pressure.

“Please… We don’t have much time. I’m hoping this will hold.” He pulls at the chain, before his eyes looks to you again. “Because I really don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Hearing the plea in his voice, you step closer, even as a little voice begs you not to. You take one of the chains in your hand. Heavy, you couldn’t imagine lifting even two of these, so why did he need these many? Holding the chain, you look into his dark eyes, your bottom lip quivering.

“Matt, you’re scaring me.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.” He cups your cheek, looking at you. For a brief second his eyes flash back to his natural colour, the beautiful hazel brown you’ve come to love, before the darkness takes over again. “I’m just trying to protect you. I can’t let the beast loose again. Please.”

Beast? Why would he… Your blood runs cold as it hits you. The bodies. Just as you’re about to faint, you feel a hand take yours. Matt is shaking, barely keeping himself together and yet, his face filled with concern for you. 

“I will explain everything, just… please…”

Nodding, you switch to autopilot and find the end of the chain, making quick work of restraining Matt. Locking the cuffs in place, your fingers tremble. This is by far the weirdest and worst thing you’ve ever done. He asked for this but chaining him up, you’ve never felt worse.

The sound of bones cracking fills the air, Matt’ breathing becoming more strained.

He gestures to a box of padlocks and the other chains. You quickly wrap them around him, locking him up. The weight of the chains forces him to his knees.

“Thank you. Now please… Go”

“But… I can’t leave you like this.”

A rumble erupts from him, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His shoulders crack, the bones threatening to break through the skin. He looks up, tears running down his cheeks.

“You have to… GO!”

The tears you’ve been holding back, trying to stay strong, spill from your eyes as you leave the room. Behind you, a piercing scream fills the air. Bones breaking, ligaments torn. But you force yourself not to go back, to keep walking away. His screams piercing your soul, causing you pain. 

As you reach the door, a howl pierces the air. No… that can’t be. Looking up, you see the full moon. No. Fucking. Way. Just as you’re about to turn, curiosity taking over, so you stop. The sound of a chain being torn from the wall. The metallic sound of the chains moving, being pulled, fills the air. Another one gives in.

Shaking your head, realising how dangerous this is, you run out of the building. As you walk through the dark alley ways, you still trying to process what happened. Chains. Bones breaking. Matt calling himself a beast. The howl. You know what this seems like, having seen enough shows and movies, reading plenty of books. But it can’t be… can it?

Maybe it could. 12 years ago, the city was attacked by aliens. Avengers existed. Half of the population had gotten snapped away and brought back. There were Gods, talking raccoons and the Hulk. Was this really that farfetched?

You’re pulled from your train of thought by a man calling after you. Looking up, you see three men standing outside a shady little watering hole, smoking. Pulling your jacket closer, you speed up, ignoring them. 

“Hey, darling. What’s the rush?”

Snickering, the man and his friends make their way to you. Walking faster, you hope you’ll reach the street before they reach you. One of the men whistles, followed by a dark laugh that makes you shiver. Just a few more feet and you’re safe. A hand grips your wrist, turning you around.

“Wait a little sweetie, we just wanna talk.”

“Yeah… Nothing to fear from us. We’ll treat you real good.”

The second man reaches out, fingers grazing your cheek. Using all your strength, you try wiggling free of their grip, to no avail. Your action is just met by taunting laughter, as one pushes the hair away, exposing your neck.

As he leans in, something big lands in the darkness. A low growl fills the air, the sound ominous, dark. Fear grips the men, slowly staggering away from you. In the shadows, the sound of claws against the brick wall comes closer. A chain dragging over the concrete as heavy footsteps trudge closer in the darkness. The men turn to run, but in a second, a huge shadow runs past you and the air fills with screams. Soul piercing screams, the sound of limbs being torn, bones breaking. 

Your senses overtaken by fear, you freeze, not even daring to look. Snarling and growling, the beast tears into their flesh, claws ripping into them, leaving them dying in a pile of their own blood. 

The beast turns to you, shoulders rising and falling to the rhythm of his breathing. Tilting it’s head, hazel eyes find yours. In the sparse light in the alley, you see the fur glistening, soaked by the blood of the three men that attacked you, now laying torn apart on the cold ground.

As it steps closer, you hear the chain dragging on the ground slowly, leaving you with a sinister feeling. The beast walks in a half circle in the cover of darkness, eyeing you cautiously. Ears twitching at the smallest sounds, nose wiggling as it takes in your scent. You know it can hear how rapidly your heart is beating, how it can small the fear in the air. You don’t want to be afraid of it, but you’ve seen what it’s capable of. How easily it could tear you apart.

“Matt?”

A small whine confirms what you already knew. It was him. He steps closer cautiously, barely looking at you and it suddenly hits you. He won’t hurt you. He just saved you. Somewhere deep within, he’s still there. 

As he reaches the edge of the darkness, he stops, looking up at the little lamp on the wall. He hesitates, before taking the final step.

Huge. The first word that comes to mind. Tall, close to 7 feet, towering over you as he stands on his hind legs. Wide, so wide you can’t even see past him. The fur, dark brown where it is not blood red, looks soft. You fight the urge to reach out and touch it. 

His whole body is pure muscle, you can only imagine how strong he really is, how fast he could run. Fear gone, left is only fascination. You can feel his eyes on you, curious as you look at him, take it all in.

Suddenly, something catches your eye. Behind him, a bushy tail is swaying gently. Smiling, you look up. His eyes, still the soft hazel one’s you’ve looked at so many times, stares back at you. Slowly, you reach out for his wrist, but he steps out of your reach.

“Please.”

Extending his paw cautiously, he lets you take the cuff of his wrist, freeing him from the chain. The metal falls to the ground with a metallic sound, filling the silence. You look up, still in shock. Maybe… If you could touch him, so you know this was real? Stepping closer, you raise your hand. But before you can touch him, he flinches back and disappears into the night.

Left alone, you slowly leave the alley as you hear another howl echoing in the night.

The next morning, after a restless night, you turn on the news. You already knew what the main story would be. You just hoped it wouldn’t be accompanied by the news of an arrested werewolf.

But it’s worse than you could imagine. Your eyes widen in horror as you take in the headline. Eight bodies were found, scattered across Hell’s Kitchen. Eight. Five more than he left in that alley. What had he done?

Loud banging on your door catches your attention. Putting down your mug, you make your way to the door, cautiously opening it. Leaning against the doorframe is Matt, covered in dried blood. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know where else to go.”

Drained, he stumbles into your apartment, barely able to stand. He pulls off the torn, bloodied shirt you left him in last night, before… before the turn. Walking up to him, you gently cup his cheeks. You’re still shaken, but right now you don’t even care about yourself.

“Are you okay?”

Huffing, his eyes almost find yours, full of tears. Leaning forward, his forehead touches yours, sniffing quietly.

“The cuts are already healing but… I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again”

His body shivers, so you take him in your arms, holding him close. This was almost too much for you to handle, so you couldn’t even imagine what he was going through. 

“I’m a monster.”

“No, Matt… You’re not.”

Shaking your head, you gently force him to look at you. If you could, you would take away all that hurt, all that guilt. It doesn’t make sense. You’ve only known him for a month, and he just showed up at your place, covered in blood, but you knew right then, you’d do anything for him. Accept him and love all of him.

So you kiss him. Pouring all the words you can’t say into it. Matt kisses you back with a hunger you’ve never known before. Every touch, every kiss igniting every part of your body. Stumbling back, he pins you against the door.

Matt pushes his thigh between your legs, pushing against you. Throwing your head back, you let out small whimpers, his thigh moving against your core. The need in you is like an explosion, sudden and inevitable, and the adrenaline still coursing through Matt’s veins combined with the smell of you, makes him growl like the beast trapped within. 

“Mine”

His words send shivers through your core. Hoisting you up by your thighs, Matt lifts you, guiding your legs around his waist. He pins you against the door again, his lips find yours again in a feverish kiss. Moving down the column of your throat, he bites softly, careful not to break your skin. 

“Fuck”

Unable to hold back, you moan as you buck your hips against him, feeling his already hard cock against your barely clothed sex. A guttural growl escapes Matt, as his tongue licks your throat, swiping his tongue along the most sensitive spots, tasting you. The thin fabric of your panties is already soaked, your core begging for him. Matt nips at your earlobe, growling.

“You smell so good, sweetheart.”

His eyes are dark with desire and something else, something deeper, more vulnerable, but you can also see the conflict in them. He needs this, needs you. Needs to know someone could still want him, even now.

“Please, Matt.”

One hand still at the nape of his neck, the other finds his belt, quickly opening it. Holding you up with one hand, Matt takes over, pushing his pants down enough for his cock to spring free. A desperate moan breaks from his throat, as you grind against him, kissing him desperately.

Matt is lost. Lost in the wet heat of your mouth, lost in your greedy hands exploring his body as though your goal is to not leave a single inch of skin untouched, lost in the too much and not enough friction of your lace panties against his length. 

Breaking the kiss, you look into his eyes. Panting like you had run a marathon, hot breath puffing against Matt’s kiss-raw lips. The grip on you tightens and you whimper, but your smell gives you away, so Matt doesn’t let go. Hoping it would bruise, hoping you’d later see the imprint of Matt’s fingers on your skin, showing that you’re his.

You swallow, rolling against Matt again, showing how much you need him. Those beautiful eyes of his grow darker, hazel irises almost entirely eclipsed by the black holes of his pupils.

“Take me” you breathe out. You need him. Need him to kiss you until all you can taste is him. Need him inside you. 

“Mathew” you mutter into the skin of his neck, kissing him softly, tasting the sweat and blood from the night before. Matt trembles at the weight of his name on your tongue, his full name just between the two of you, the world around you forgotten. 

He presses closer, pinning you harder into the door. He leans in to plant an almost chaste kiss to your mouth, so tender. His hand settles against the side of your neck, big and warm and safe. He searches for one final confirmation, as his fingers pull the thin lace to the side, baring your core for him. And with a soft plea from you, he pushes in.

As he pushes in, inch by delicious inch, you moan out his name. It burns, setting your entire body on fire. But you welcome the ache. Matt brings a hand up to gently stroke your hair. A gesture so tender, you fall apart. Caught between the door and a man you never want to let go.

You close your eyes, whimpering as Matt pulls back and thrusts back into you slowly, spearing you open in the most delicious way. But it wasn’t enough. It was almost too intimate for what was supposed to be an adrenaline-fueled fuck.

“Please. Please, Matt, fuck me-”

The rest of your sentence is lost to a sharp thrust of Matt’s hips, eliciting a moan from you. The stretch of him perfect, as Matt settles into a punishing pace. Changing the angle by a fraction, Matt is nailing your g-spot with every single thrust. He nips and sucks along the soft skin of your throat, biting gently, leaving marks, but you couldn’t care less. You want everyone to know you belonged to Matt.

Matt’s punishing pace never falters. His hips drive into you hard and fast, his hands gripping your thigh, your waist. Painful, but oh what a pleasurable pain. 

“Matt” you whisper, cupping the nape of his neck.

A soft ‘mhh?’ leaves Matt, but you loose your line of thought for a moment when he buries himself deep in you, grounding his hips in slow circles, fucking you deep and hard and slow

“God” you choke out and blink, trying to get rid of the sudden wetness in your eyes. He just, fuck, he made you feel so good. “Matt, can you- fuck, can you look at me? I wanna see you, I-”

Matt’s eyes burning into you, straight into your soul, leaving you raw and exposed in the best way. Matt picks up his pace again, hard thrusts sending you over the edge. As your climax washes over you, your mouth falls open in a silent groan, completely taken over with pleasure.

He kisses you, assertive and claiming, as his cock drives into you relentlessly. The kiss turned into just sharing a breath, hot and loaded between the two of you. He was beautiful. Flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, intense eyes dark with lust and fixed on you like he never wanted to be with anyone else ever again. 

Pleasure sparks from your core throughout your body like lightning, swelling and building inside you once more with every twitch of Matt’s hips, and you shiver helplessly under the gaze of his hungry eyes.

“Can you give me one more, sweetheart?” he says, voice deep and strained. Nothing but soft whimpers escape you, as he buries himself to the hilt, again and again. You dig your nails into Matt’s shoulder, holding on for dear life, as he brings you on the brink of orgasm once more.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let go. I got you.”

I got you. Every single muscle in your body locks up as your pleasure peaks and you fall over the edge. Screaming out his name, you cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders. Matt thrusts into the hilt and stills, buried as deep as he could, his mouth finding your neck. Biting softly, he groans as he spurts rope after rope of hot cum into you.

You can’t help the blissful, dopey smile that overtakes your features. The way Matt’s face twists and tenses and slacks with his climax was something you already knew you’d never grow tired of watching- knowing you had done that, made him feel so good. That for some time, you made him forget.

He breathes deeply for a few moments, before he gently pulls his softening length from you, his cum already dripping out of you. Lowering you to the ground with care, a moment of silence passes between you, the haze you’ve been in slowly lifting.

Tugging himself back into his pants, a solemn expression ghost over his handsome face. He picks up his shirt, feeling the dried blood on the fine fabric.

“I… I know this is too much to ask,” he begins, his voice almost cracking, “but I don’t think I can do this without you.”

“Sweetheart?”

Matt’s voice pulls you back to the present, a new show telling the same news as the others. You reach for the remote, when Matt stops your hand. Listening, he continues to get ready for another day in court. You know it won’t make it better, but Matt always listens the day after a kill, like he wants to be reminded of what a monster he really is.

Three full moons later, countless shifts behind him, Matt is almost in control. But sometimes, like last night, he snaps. Unable to contain the wolf, letting it loose. It usually leaves a trail of blood behind. You can wash it off his hands, off his clothes, but you know you can never cleanse his soul.

Some days the guilt almost consumes him. Having never killed before this, every day he works harder as a lawyer, trying to atone for what he’s doing. Every night clutching his cross, when another bad dream fills his mind.

You try to tell him they were bad guys that deserved it, of course, but he doesn’t always listen. But you still do it, remind him every day that he’s doing good, making a difference. Telling him there’s a reason he was bitten. Telling him how much you love him. And it’s the truth. Werewolf and all, you’re in love with Matt Murdock, the devil and beast of Hell’s Kitchen.

Side note: In some werewolf lore, there’s the idea that a werewolf can find a true mate. Some one they are destined to be with. Everything about the other draws them in. Their scent tailored to the other. Touches sending bolts of electricity through them. Feeling whole when gazing into their eyes. Their voice irresistible.

It may not always make sense, but they know as soon as they find each other, that they will never have another again. they’ve found the missing piece of their soul, the one that makes them whole.

So yeah, that’s what I’m going by here.

Thank you so much for reading <3

Tagging: @clydesducktape @absurdthirst @mindidjarin @buckypascal @loverhymeswith @a-reader-and-a-writer @freshabogados @lcvenderblues @e-dubbc11 @imgonnaragnorockurshit @fictionalnerdery @lucy-sky @starduststevie @moonlarking @a-bang-for-your-bucky @dreamlandcreations @shedaresthedevil @adancedivasmom

[fairys-dream]

wrote a vent piece using origins victor. yea.

actually its short enough i can probably just put it here too soooo under the cut ⤵️⤵️⤵️

When his Father died, Victor stole a pair of his jeans.

He went through his Fathers drawers and took it.

They were baggy at first, but with age, he grew into them.

The eventual rips and stains were his, but the jeans were still once worn by his Father.

He didn’t ever want to become Him.

Never wanted to hurt Jimmy like he had been at the hands and words of his Father.

But when he yelled, he heard His loud voice. And when he hit, he felt His fists as his own.

Jimmy never fought back.

Never even struggled the times he tightened the grip around his throat.

Victor wished he would.

He ached for him to show some hint of them being the same, selfishly, so he wouldn’t have to feel so guilty.

But part of him barely even registered it was wrong.

Jimmy was his family, his friend, and they needed eachother. They could never leave eachother, so why worry?

When the moment came that finally pushed Jimmy enough to fight back, he could tell the kid was giving his all. It wasn’t enough, but he was trying.

Victor laughed as he took the punches Jimmy threw at him, which only urged the other on more, to Victors delight. He wanted to see that same rage he showed the night he killed their father.

But, as the tears started to fall down Jimmys face, he knew it was time to stop.

As much as he internally wanted to keep pushing him, to keep feeding his own ego, he knew better than to make him cry any harder.

Anger Victor could deal with, but it pained his heart to see his little brother upset.

His father never seemed to notice anyones tears, but Victor saw Jimmys, and that gave him a sense of pride, even when being the rare cause of them in the first place.

Victor wrapped his arms around his brother held him close, nuzzling his face into his wild hair as a silent apology. And, as usual, Jimmy held him back just as tight.

The jeans he wore would always be his Fathers, regardless of the years spent owning them.

His genes would always be His.

Notes:

while at work today, i was thinking about how even though i had ripped holes into the jeans my father gave me as a teenager (that i was currently wearing and still wearing as i write this), they were still technically once his, even though i had made them my own.

so i put my thoughts of my own daddy issues + older brother issues through origins victor.

i dont remember much from my childhood or teen years, so i did my best to remember the reasoning behind the things i did and the ways i felt. i would like to think i was more good than bad, as we were once eachothers closest friend, but i really can only remember small bits and pieces. victor had a different experience since he had to actually take care of jimmy, and i sometimes wonder if i would have been nicer if that were the case with me and my younger brother. im better now, stopped being mean when i was 14, but we dont hangout anymore. my father never hit me, as far as i can remember, so im not sure where i got all the violence from….he was always blind to my tears though. that i do remember.

i had dinner with my father today. i havent lived with him in years and he feels like a stranger now. as we were leaving, he asked if the rips in my jeans were made by me. i said yes, and that the jeans used to be his. he didnt remember giving me them, but i swore that he did. thats probably symbolical for something.

[emeritus-fuckers]

You know what? I thrive in chaos, so why don't we kick off the Confessional event with a confession from Jez herself? Can't wait for the angry anons ♡

Obviously I'm not gonna get into too much detail, but this is an explanation as to why I feel the need to leave the blog.

I'm twenty years old and emotionally unstable due to lots of mental health issues and things that influence the way I view the world (to name a few: autism, ADHD, depression, anxiety, mommy issues, daddy issues... I just collect those like Pokémon) and lots of trauma that I cannot take care of due to a variety of reasons. I have been dealing with lots of said issues since the age of four, when my parents divorced. They still hate each other and their lack of ability to cope has reflected into me. I don't exactly blame them, since caring for one's mental health has only became an actual thing a few years ago.

I have been on meds for a while, but they didn't really do much and I do not have the time or resources to see a psychiatrist to get new ones assigned (financial issues on mom's part, and my dad has decided that I'm an adult so I should pay for it myself).

Background check done? Wonderful. Now onto the actual issue.

Some of you probably noticed this a while ago before my ritual. How I was panicking about it. Due to the environment I grew up in and barely any help with my mental health, my sense of self-worth is extremely twisted. My relatively large self-awarness doesn't help, it just makes the holes I dig way deeper than they already were.

A prime example of this was when my mom off-handedly mentioned she'd need to make more food for dinner since I was at her place for the weekend. As stupid as that sounds, I spend the whole day in my room trying not to cry because someone had to do something for me and my mind spiraled because I don't believe I deserve people trying to be nice to me. Mostly because of how my dad was after the divorce, he was one of the "phone works both ways" parents and I will never forget how he was supposed to pick me up at noon one time and I called him since he was really late (~30 minutes), only to find out he just sat down to have lunch and he'd be there when he was done eating. Needless to say, he was rarely there for me and I've grown to believe that since my father didn't care, why should anyone else?

The mental spiral from my mom having to make more food has lead me to not eat for the rest of the day and to make me believe I don't deserve to go to the Ritual.

How does this transfer to the blog?

To put it simply, I am overwhelmed by the positivity. And since I was put under a lot of pressure throughout primary, secondary and high school because I was a gifted child, I put pressure on myself. Lots of pressure.

Do I want to leave?

No. Of course not. I love you all. But I feel like I'm continuing to disappoint over and over again. Like I can never do enough.

I'm not leaving because I got bored or I don't wanna make content anymore. I love this blog. But at the same time, I'm terrified of disappointing people. I feel like I already am disappointing you. So I feel like I have to get away to not make you upset anymore.

I hope that clears things up on why I feel like I should leave. This blog is meant to be a safe space for everyone. A safe space that I cannot create with how my current mental state is.

For now the plan is to leave, but it will take months. Is there a possibility I'll change my mind and stay? Yes. Last year my mental health has increased while I was working, so perhaps the same will happen this year.

I have already arranged the new writer in case I do leave. If I stay, I hope they will join the emeritus-fuckers team anyway, because there's a lot of things to write.

All the best to all of you, hope you enjoyed my whining and self-pitying. - Jez

[penname-artist]

Autumn Blues

Author’s Note: You know it’s gonna be a long discussion when I have to open a Google Document around it…[also: this was planned ahead of time for after my surgery. Wanted to make sure I was alive and all. Which I am, though I now have a mouth full of holes and blood. Good times.]

In summary, this post is another personal one, and I likely won't be doing so again very much, if at all, until October. There's several reasons why, but it's mostly for my health. I also want to address something about unfollowing and/or blocking some people, which is relevant to said health.

In case you find you've been unfollowed, or in a single case, blocked, please do not take them personally. These have nothing to do with the individuals; I have not been wronged, I was not offended, there was no personal reason towards any other person that is the cause of these things. I have finally come to the decision, after almost a year of push-and-pull attempts, to cut out military/navy/air force topics from my dash and from several areas of my life. They've been collective semi-tolerable triggers for a long time now, and though I have been trying to overcome it with exposure and engagement, it has reached my capacity of tolerance, and I really do not have the mental strength to risk it anymore. I do admire and respect my mutuals that post on these areas, as they all have amazing content and they're wonderful people. But for the sake of my well-being, I need to walk away from this area. This is also why I’ve officially added these topics into my Discord carrd under a list of potential triggers, as while tolerable, they can easily capsize.

I still intend to post the occasional Kittyhawk or Flysenhower bit, but only to minimal, controllable amounts. There are simply too many unwanted memories surrounding the fandom circles of those characters for me to apply myself too much to them. My enjoyment of the characters are for almost entirely different reasons than most, and so any future posts of or around them will mostly only apply to that aspect of it. I like them for me, not for the sake of anyone else, and I need to stop convincing myself that those are the same things. Easier said than done of course, but it's a process, not an event. I spent too long convincing myself to enjoy something for the sake of other people, and now I'm un-convincing myself of that.

The reason for my extended hiatus is partially because of this, but additionally for the reason that I desperately need to recollect myself after this massive burnout. The transitional weeks between July and August were so hard on me in so many ways that I dropped writing and art almost entirely for a good bit. When your natural instinct is to doodle and drabble daily, that's a scary thing to realize.

I'm really trying to come to grips with my own abilities right now, my limitations, and how to still be productive with these limitations. People in person have been clawing at me for commission work, and I barely managed halfway through the last one before giving up on the time constraints and cutting my estimated pay in half to compensate. Commissions are not something I can feasibly do, even lightly, let alone as a main source of income. As well, my requests, gifts, and personal projects have all been collectively piling up, and the paper tower of those ideas has fallen down as a result. It's a mess.

The time I'm taking off is to rest and reorganize the mess, hopefully with finished projects I can check off the list finally. As bad as I feel for taking such a long break amidst an incomplete and long overdue major collaboration, I NEED to take this time off if I have any hope of even finishing it. And I need to continue making personal adjustments and filters to my feed, lest the precious bits of creative energy I have left be drained faster than they should be.

I am - again - stupidly grateful for all of my friends and people who have my back in this admittedly terrifying change. Shu, Mac, Dusty, Storm, other Storm (yeah there's two lol), Bobbly, Rotor, Jackal, all of the rest of the Volo Pro Veritas cult, my social media mutuals and friends, and anyone else who has reached out. It's really scary, admitting that I am not as strong as I once was, that my trauma has put limitations on me, even in the places where I feel safest and most at home. But no one else is or has ever been obligated to take care of me; that's my job. And I've really been needing to clean the junk out of these corners of my brain.

If you were able to make it down this far, thank you again so much for the bit of support in this effort. I'm not down for the count just yet, so long as I'm still breathing I'll find a way to do what I love. Even if that means scaling back a little bit.

Got ideas and plans for future projects, but not leaving any details here. They'll get done when they get done, and I'm very excited to show you all the finished products. Here's to the morrow, fans and freaks. Take care of yourselves, and I'll see you on the other side.

-Pen

[skygayzer]

OC questions for Ida Kowalski my Yakuza OC!

Questions from this post!

(A heads up there is a lot of unexplained lore but just bare with me)

Also was inspired by @majimemegoro !

1. What was the last time they pulled an all-nighter, if ever?

Ida can be a bit of a heavy sleeper, so she hardly ever pulls an all-nighter unless she is told otherwise.

2. What’s the weirdest place they’ve ever slept?

On one occasion back in Poland, Joanna caught Ida sleeping bent over on a fence. Another time she was found arms crossed sitting on a chair with her back hunched over with her head between her legs.

And she wonders why she has back problems..

3. If they were living now, what type of face mask would they wear — ie, plain black, patterned, with words, etc?

She would either have a regular blue plain one or one with a photo realistic mouth on it.

4. As a young kid, were they particularly attached to any comfort items, like stuffed animals or a blanket?

She used to have a 'good luck' coin, but a boy in her class took it and threw it into a well.

5. What do they think of abstract art?

Can AND WILL stare for hours, she gets sucked in easily. Then afterwards will say "eh, it's cool I guess."

6. When going out in cold weather (say under 0C/32F), what kinda outfit do they wear?

She is not a fan of the cold so probably a flight jacket with a couple layers of shirts under, regular jeans with high socks and combat boots. (She I'd always wearing combat boots tho lol)

7. Are they afraid of heights?

No. While she does start to feel a little dizzy if she looks directly down from a super tall building.

8. Are they a fast/slow/average reader?

She is a slow reader, but only because she has a harder time processing things sometimes.

9. Are there any foods that they really fucking hate?

Radishes.

10. On a scale of 1-10, how bothered are they by the sight of blood?

5 out of 10 I think, depends on how much or what caused it.

11. When’s the last time they laughed so hard they cried, if ever?

This is actually quite often she does this, mostly at others expense. Like when she tried helping Shimano shave his head and it was so patchy at first and he was super pissed.

12. Do they prefer baths or showers?

Showers. She prefers to be quick, especially since she was used to using the showers at her old jobs and had to be in and out before the other workers got there.

13. What’s a reoccurring dream/nightmare that they have, if any?

She dreams A LOT, But usually it's just a jumbled mess. However, she always dreams of Poland, and her old house with the roof having patches of moss. She dreams about her old school and the cows in the fields.

However after her involvement with the Tojo-clan, nightmares become more frequent. Death is a very common theme in them, whether it's her friends, family, or her own death.

14. When they visit museums, do they go slowly, reading everything, or go through quickly?

She loves museums, she likes learning about history and other cultures but her favorite subject of all is art. Can sit for hours studying a piece. Enjoys colorful landscapes like Claude Monet's work.

15. Do they ever cry at movies/books/shows?

YES. She always cries while watching the naked island, despite that she considers it her favorite Japanese film.

16. Have they ever kept a journal?

Yes, but she doesn't write in it anymore. She just keeps it for memories.

17. Are they good at jigsaw puzzles? Do they enjoy them?

She is okay with them, but it takes too long for her to do it by herself. Only likes doing it with her little sister, or her grandma.

18. What’s the most physically uncomfortable situation they’ve ever been in?

When she is held hostage by the Jingweon, they try to get information out of her however she fights her way out. Probably the most painful experience.

19. What do they do when they’ve got a song stuck in their head?

Openly hums it or sings it.. VERY LOUDLY.

20. Favourite type of baked goods? Are they good at baking?

Polish donuts!

21. Are they a good kisser?

When you have as many girlfriends as she had, you certainly gain experience heheh. So yes, very!

22. How much do they follow the news? Has this always been the case, or has it changed over time?

She has always followed the news for both Poland. The reason she often checks the Poland news is due to the fact she eventually plans on moving back when the economy gets better.

23. Favourite ice cream flavour?

Strawberry (HAS TO HAVE STRAWBERRY CHUNKS IN IT AS WELL!!!)

24. Do they ever cry because something is too cute?

Nahh... until a baby holds her finger or a puppy licks her hand then she is on the VERGE of tears.

25. Do they have any superstitions?

Being Jewish, she has a lot of superstitions that have been passed down from her mother and grandmother. Like never leaving a book open or to avoid stepping over someone! She even knocks on wood despite it not really being a Jewish superstition.

26. How consistent/regular is their sleep cycle?

It WOULD be consistent if she didn't sleep so damn much, it's a personality trait at this point.

27. If they were to play D&D, what race/class would they pick?

Probably a human warrior, very much based off herself.

28. Do they sing in the shower?

Yup.

29. Can they play an instrument? Which one?

Nope. The most she ever did was playfully mash the keys on a piano at a club once. She was removed.

30. Can they ride a bike?

NOPE! never learned due to never being able to afford a bike. When she finally bought one for Joanna, who understood how to use it rather quickly, it was Joanna who tried to teach her to ride a bike instead.

31. Favourite meal of the day?

Breakfast, if she doesn't have it she will be cranky the whole day.

32. What do they smell like?

Usually smells like those flower bouquets you buy, it's her perfume.

33. Do they like to doodle?

No, she isn't too skilled in drawing and never really bothered trying.

34. What’s one of their guilty pleasures?

She reads trashy romance novels! Hohoohohoo!

35. Do people usually notice their eye colour?

Nope! They r a regular brown (brown eyes rule ✊)

36. What are their lying “tells”? Are they aware of these tells?

She does this thing where she will run and play with her hands, rubbing her thumb across her knuckles, rubbing her hands together, ect.

37. A friend whips out a camera unexpectedly and goes “say cheese!” — what pose do they strike?

She will either do a big smile or make a funny face.

38. What would be the worst quality that someone could attribute to them, in their own mind? As in, what would they think is the worst thing someone could think about them — that they’re selfish, lazy, violent, cowardly, stupid, etc.?

That she has no value.

39. How do they mark their place in a book?

Uses a random ribbon or thread.

40. Big spoon or little spoon?

Typically a big spoon but really loves to be a little spoon!

41. How much time/thought do they put into their outfit on an average day?

At most 20 minutes, she usually gets ready rather quickly and doesn't really care about how she looks, but Joanna will usually help her pick out an outfit if she can.

42. What’s the most ridiculous thing they’ve ever spent money on?

Colorful ribbons, she doesn't really use them but she just liked having something pretty to swing around hehe.

43. What’s a funny story that a stranger has about them?

(Idk yet but I am thinking of sub stories for her that are wacky and fun!)

44. What do they consider the kindest thing someone has ever done for them?

When a certain hitman agrees to take her body back to her family. (No I will not explain any further, if you know you know. )

45. What’s the cruelest thing they’ve done that they don’t regret?

Beating up and almost killing, a family patriarch for hitting his wife (who Ida is also in love with).

46. What’s their least favourite chore?

Washing dishes, IT'S SO BORING!!

47. The person they care about most/their best friend asks them to hide a dead body. How willing are they to help, no questions asked?

Depends on the person. If it was her sister, or someone she really trusts and cares for she would help them, of course asking questions. But anyone else, she would simply tell them to not involve her.

48. What’s the favourite way to eat potatoes?

Masher potatoes and gravy!!!!

49. If they were a plant, what would they be?

A common poppy.

50. If they had to give an impromptu hour-long lecture on any subject, what would they talk about?

Poland, especially to someone who isn't from Poland. She misses her home despite the situation her family went through there. She misses everything from the smell to the land to the old houses. She can go on for hours about how she used to go to a lake along with other kids and how they ended up having to run home with leeches in them, or how she and Joanna would go collect rocks and she convinced her to throw them at a cop.

51. What would be/is their most-used/favourite emoji?

If she ever lived long enough to use a phone she would use 😎. She thinks sunglasses are cool.

52. What would/do they put as their computer/phone wallpaper/ background?

A photo of her family!

53. Have they always had their current hairstyle? If not, what’s another hairstyle they’ve had in the past?

Well, when she was a kid she used to have longer hair, but then a boy at school would tug her hair all the time. Eventually Ida started cutting her own hair, and eventually learned to style her own hair. (As "styled" as it can get).

54. When they can’t fall asleep, what do they do?

!!! RARE!!! But probably read or do some exercising to make herself tired.

55. What do they consider the best decision they’ve ever made?

Befriending Yayoi Dojima.

56. What do they wear for a day out at the beach?

Probably a tank top with shorts.

57. How do they feel about babies? How would they deal with a friend’s baby being put in their arms?

Loves them! She helped raise her sister so she has some experience. While she isn't really a fan of caring for one she loves squishing their little cheeks and making faces at them. Would gladly hold one if someone needed her to, would probably try to tickle it or something.

58. Most embarrassing situation they’ve ever experienced?

Being rejected by a girl I think, otherwise I can't think of anything else. (Might change in the future)

59. How do they feel about rollercoasters?

Loves them! Would go on one whenever she got the chance.

60. Have they broken any bones and if so, how?

Yes, multiple ways. Broke her leg when she was 7 from jumping down from a tree, her big for after angrily kicking a cement block at 12, broke her left hand after tripping and landing on it wrong, when ISN'T she breaking her bones?

61. Do they consider themself a good liar?

Not sure, if she gets caught, well she gets caught, if she doesn't then she doesn't.

62. Would they rather have very cold weather (under -20C/-4F) or very hot weather (over 30C/86F)?

Actually prefers the heat due to getting sick easily. Plus she enjoys going out and getting ice cream or going to the beach.

63. How good are they/would they be at Monopoly?

Would probably be good at it.

64. Do they like musicals?

YUP YUP YUUUP!!!

65. Have they ever been blackout drunk? Under what circumstances?

Yes, it actually happens a lot more often than it should.

66. What genre is the book that they’ve read the most times in their life?

Romance drama.

67. What’s something they (at this moment) think/hope they’ll never have to admit to someone else?

That she was involved in the Jingweon massacre.

68. How good/bad are they/would they be at assembling IKEA furniture?

Very bad, too impatient and has a hard time understanding the instructions probably.. Would quit in 5 minutes.

69. What’s something that really scared them as a kid?

Leeches. (Also being abandoned)

70. Are they allergic to anything?

Bees.

71. What’s the longest they’ve ever gone without sleeping, and why?

Two days after the Jingweon massacre.

72. Feelings on spicy food?

Can't handle it. At all.

73. How much do they jay-walk in cities?

What? What makes you think she would jay-walk?? (I am lying she does it all day everyday whenever she gets the chance).

74. Do they have any tattoos or piercings? Do they want any/more?

Has no real interest in tattoos, and never bothered to get a piercing.

75. Preferred way to eat eggs?

Hard boiled eggs with garlic salt!!!!

76. Do they consider themself an optimist, pessimist, or realist?

Realist I think, tries her best to be positive but with her situation it's a bit hard.

77. If they’re served a food they don’t like (at like, a restaurant or someone else’s house), will they eat it anyways or leave it to the side?

At a restaurant, she would probably just take it to go and give it to someone who she might think will like it, if at someone's home of course she is gonna eat it. She doesn't want to be impolite. (Unless she can't eat it for reasons like her religion then she would simply explain she cant eat it but would thank them anyway.)

78. Would they describe themself as funny?

Oh for sure.

79. How physically flexible are they?

Not very, can't be flexible with a back pain like hers lol.

80. What’s the most bored they’ve ever been?

Before, it was in school. But now it's whenever she has to be in a room during a meeting. Absolute dread..

81. What’s one book you’ve read that you think they would also like?

I KNOW SHE WOULD LOVE DIARY OF A WIMPY KID OR CAPTAIN UNDERPANTS. She would look at the drawings and giggle to herself while kicking her feet in the air.

82. What’s a scent that never fails to make them nostalgic?

The smell of the woods, earthy smells.

83. What’s the worst thing they’ve done on a dare?

Pulled an officer's pants down and tripped him which caused him to fall off a bridge into a river. She helped him out and apologized but it still landed her in a cell.

84. How did they celebrate their coming-of-age?

Had a bat Mitzvah ceremony!

[karama9]

The Legend of Locked Land

Sometimes I wonder about the rest of the planet Hyrule is on. Hyrule has tens of thousands of years of history after the surface was destroyed by Demise, and there was a civilization then that could build fairly advanced robots. Not to mention time traveling devices.

So sometimes I think the rest of the planet, if there is anyone there, would be SUPER advanced. Or have long since self extinguished. Or both! But then how come they don't come into play within Hyrule? There doesn't appear to be any trade, there's no visitor to the 'medieval fantasy', there's no foreign aid whenever Hyrule gets destroyed again...

One scenario I sometimes imagine is that Hyrule is isolated magically. Nothing gets in or out of the immediate area, which would include whatever islands are involved in various games if you want.

Going with that, I love the idea that new iterations end up burying the old ones. You play with that idea and the depths may not have been originally underground; major geological features move around because why not? The new iterations are all new anyway; races that have disappeared may just still live in a lower strata! And come back later! Like the gorons being around in OOT but not ALLTP!

So anyway, this isn't one of the headcanon I'm consistent with. It's an AU even for my own imagination. But I really do think it's got mad potential. What about the people on the outside? What do they see? What do they think? What's their world like? You can have isekai of outsiders in Hyrule, or you can have someone from Hyrule managing to get out! Get... out of bonds!

Anyway, early draft of the start of a story set in this Locked Land AU below the read more. The setting is that Link needs a macguffin that's outside of Hyrule and finds a song that transports him there. The locals see what looks like a kid dressed up as an elf appear out of nowhere and figure they got to help him find his parents again, not to mention figure out what the heck happened to him.

This AU is open, anyone interested can go right ahead and write for it, I'd LOVE to see stories that use it! If anyone's interested.

And if the genre already exists and I just failed to find it, fic recommendations are appreciated. :D

Double Isekai Story

The boy in green is staring at my screen when I come in the room. He startles when he hears my steps and jumps back, looking like he's just been caught red handed. 

He’s tiny. Judging by his face, I'd put him at about 12, 13 years old. His voice, not a child’s and just barely cracking anymore, would put him a bit older again, but he's the size of an 8 year old.  

And the green, and those EARS... he couldn't look more like some kind of wood fairy if he tried.  

No, that's not true. A fairy wouldn't carry a sword, shield and bow. We didnt’ even bother trying to take them away, we just activated our personal shields just in case they weren’t toys.  

"It's okay," I say. "You can look at anything you want. I'm going to need you to pay attention to me for a bit, though, we got to figure out what's going on with you." 

He blinked and frowned, obviously confused. "I'm looking for the Gods' Forgotten Stone," he said. "I already said that. I said it was sent somewhere out here a long time ago, remember? So what do you mean, you need to figure me out? I was waiting here because I thought you could help me." He sounded downright offended at the idea that not everything might line up for him in the most expedient and convenient way possible. 

"I AM going to try and help," I said. "Sit." As I said it, I sat down myself on one of the two visitors chairs. The boy sat down in my own chair, on the other side of the desk. I let it slide. 

"My name is Drankan," I said. "I'm an investigator here, and here's the thing. You're a child, and you're out wandering alone and nobody's seen you around here before." 

He sagged slightly at being called a child, which I took as another sign that he was in his teens. "I've never been here before," he said. "I didn't even know this place existed. Most people I talked to said I couldn't come this way. And I couldn't, at first. I used the Song of Elsewhere." 

He proffered an item from a small pocket on his chest, and the small gesture sent my heart racing again: he was showing me some kind of flute or recorder, adorned with some kind of symbols I wasn’t familiar with, and if I was understanding correctly, he was saying that he played a song on it to come here from somewhere else. And, even more distressing, the instrument was way too long to have fit in his pocket. And even MORE distressing, it matched the many accounts we had that he had just appeared out of nowhere with no portal in sight. 

"Are your parents, or guardians, here too?" I asked. 

"My... oh." His eyes widened. His ears moved as well from the motion. I tried to ignore it. 

"You think I'm lost and need to find my parents, right?" 

"Aren't you?" 

He shook his head. "My parents died a long time ago. My aunt raised me, but she's still home. I'm here on purpose, I'm not lost, and I can look after myself. I just need to find the Stone." 

"Okay, let's back up. Your name is Link. Right? Where are you from, Link?" 

"Castle Town." 

"I don't know where that is. Is the actual castle still there? What is it called?" 

The kid's eyes widened again. "You don't know about us either!" he exclaimed. "It's Locked Land Castle. Where I come from is called Locked Land. It's West of here, past the Ocean." 

I frowned and touched the translator on my cheek. Wherever he was from, the translation was coming out as Locked Land. I had no way to know whether that was the etymological origin of the name, the natural phenomenon called Locked Land, or whether it just meant he was saying he came from a place people couldn’t go to. 

It was a bit unnerving that I wasn’t dismissing the possibility he was from Locked Land out of hand. But then he had just taken out a long flute from a small pocket and claimed to have traveled by song. Not to mention the ears. And the appearing out of nowhere. 

I was clearly losing my mind. Locked Land was a geological oddity with a side of supernatural looking shenanigans seemingly designed to keep conspiracy theorists and other nutbars happy with countless theories and conjectures. I’d always figured that if its mysteries were ever conclusively solved, a lot of people would fall into depression from no longer being able to believe their wild imaginings of choice about it. 

[moonlightperseus]

You're genuinely making me want to try reading them again so badly give me a sec to like, pull them up for motivation. (93 issues? Insane fam) (also again your comic site is great lmao, like just for instance I just pulled up the first issue of bombshells NO pop-up ads, NO leaving the page. If I'd used mine the second I clicked the search bar I would've been sent to a scam site I had to back space from before it could load, then when I clicked on the actual comic there'd be a 50/50 chance that would happen again, same as when I clicked on the specific issue, and then there would've been a giant pop up over the whole comic that I'd either have to read around or exit and if would send me to another site, or open another tab, and would only be gone for like 2 minutes tops, so again, you're a life saver lmao this is GREAT) 

That all sounds very interesting!!! That's very exciting!!! 

and Barda isn't as BIG as I like my Big Barda, that's a bit of a con for me, but she is still very pretty and I appreciate the mention she deserves to be in a  wlw relationship all the time. (Is there a girl doctor light in DC like normally? That's a genuine question idfk) 

I DO honestly mostly agree everyone needs to love things and it's so exciting. But I started talking about orcas for like 10 seconds and I shit you not the mental health worker said "hey have you heard of Asperger's?" (I also get asked "have you ever thought of being a marine biologist?" And I say "no that sounds really boring" and then I get yelled at) 

I've never been to SeaWorld (or anything of the sort) bit as a kid I BEGGED to go to Marineland so I get it. I, obviously, do not support that anymore. I haven't done anything like that but I want to go to British Columbia SO BAD to go whale watching. All of my writing is set in BC (a place I've NEVER BEEN) just because I long to be by the whales lmao. I NEED to see orcas before I die. I would think it's stupidity. I GENUINELY wonder, if I was like swimming in the ocean and a pod of orcas came up to me, if I would remember y'know, COMMON SENSE and leave the water, or if I'd just be so blinded by love I'd be like !!! Oh my god hey guys!! Hey buddies!!! Wanna play fetch?? Wanna be pet??? Because I'm NOT dumb but I HAVE loved them my entire life so they should just also love me instinctively. 

dude that sounds SO FUN we should become Spies. I can talk about whales forever. My phone case is called like "Canadian whales" or "whales of the Hudson's Bay" (I think it's the former bit it's just belugas and orcas and Canada has more whales than that but The Hudson's Bay doesn't???) But yeah it's covered in whales. I can go ALL day. And with an AUDIENCE of ORCAS THEMSELVES??? 

My mother and brother and an ex-bestfriemd all loved/ liked agents of shield so I get it!! And Peggy!! I love like her style and her everything honestly. I had to do an assignment where I wrote a diary as a solider years ago in school and I drew a portrait of his wife and everyone was like 'thay looks like the girl from captain america" as though that wasn't the point? Why would I draw anyone else?? 

It's volumes, I barely buy issues because they're so delicate and that scares me, but I bought a couple individual issues of SAGA this year as they came out and I think *they* were 4$ each? And as for bombshells, as a direct comparison I'll check mine to tell you bit a) I bought it years ago (proves have gone up since) and b) I just recently reorganized my bookshelves but don't really have space for my comics anymore so I couldn't keep it in alphabetical order and I have literally no idea where bombshells is. 

Okay so it was under a lot of comics and it was very hard to get at and I need to figure out what the fuck to do with my comic collection. But I bought it at Indigo (Canada's main book retailer, essentially our Barnes and Noble) so it sold for normal retail value and it was 22.99$ CAD. I remember it being more expensive? But I also had no job then because it was many years ago so. The most recent one I bought was definitely either 30 or 40$ but it's also like half of the green arrow and black canary run. (apparently the Hardcover Injustice: Góðs Among us year four volume 1 should be 27.99$ and the paperback should be 19.99, but most of my paper back (I don't think that's what they're called in comics?) Are 22.99$ like bombshells. The green arrow and black canary comic was 45.99$ and so is my deluxe rebirth justice league comic that I bought from Dollarama bit again I only paid > 5$ for two of those) 

​​​​​

​That could be good!! 

That's faid yeah I don't like when they don't that either. It's cool to know it's all cohesive ( unlike how the current BOP started with Dinah talking with Oliver when in current green arrow comics he's "missing" (I won't like spoil the rest that's literally the plot so it's not intrusive if you haven't read them: Dinah's a fairly active character so far if you were interested but obviously it IS a green arrow comic and I always get annoyed when he's the main character) but it IS frustrating (and, if I were buying them as they came out, more expensive I'd think?) 

I didn't even know that it moved!! And I really just know her from Gotham city garage and Injustice 2, so not like,,, canon things) and I love that the three mom's were so important you mentioned it twice thats wonderful I trust that they're very good 

It is now OPEN on my phone so hopefully I'll get to it bit I won't be starting it immediately since I have go work early tomorrow but hopefully that will be SOON and I absolutely will 

Oh dw I will talk about my mental health relentlessly and do not mind when people do it back so you're good. But I actually get that pretty much exactly so maybe it's kind of a common thing? I don't know how I feel about libraries (the last time I went to one was a year ago for my friend and I just read a book on dolphins while he looked for dantes inferno) but the used book thing is a big one. I have issues in thrift stores entirely but my town has a big book sale once a year where it's all just used books and I go every year and buy SO MANY books but I have go wash my hands as soon as I get home and am now too scared to read any of them. (which sucks because one is called the doctor who lived in a house at sea- I love doctors and the sea!! But I cannot touch it) it's good that you made progress!!! Buying them for someone else was a good idea. And I'm glad that made it easier! And tbch I mostly just buy new books, but that's because I'm stupid. I do have an online library app that's wonderful but my old library card expired so I have to go to my local library and ask for a new one but I am scared :( so I just can't listen to audiobooks for free until I do that (or read the books)

I have no idea what kind of books you like but while I had Libby (my library app) I only listened to two and one was Wonderwoman War Bringér, which was honestly really interesting but I do chronically read YA so. And then a book called wild and wicked things that you might like? It's an adult book set after WW2 about witchcraft and lesbians. 

I didn't like the Harley x birds comic just because everyone but Harley seemed incredibly out of character but I do really like the way her relationship with Dinah was essentially just Harley being like !!!!! And Dinah being 😮‍💨 about it the entire time. I want that back. (honestly it's somewhat similar on Injustice too and it's just like bring that back please). I also hope it gets better!!! If worse comes to worst I'll take over and write it myself I can do it. We deserve it. 

That's fair!! Hope you enjoy it!! 

(I only know so many "good time of day" in Gaelic so you have to be reading this at the time I say I don't make the rules, anyway) Madainn Mhath!! 

akalsjg i'm so glad the site is working well for you! and that’s very fair re:big barda. and yeah! dr kimiyo hyoshi exists as dr light in the main continuity too!! according to wikipedia she was introduce during crisis on infinite earths & has even come face to face with the villian who goes by the name dr light.

also like i don’t really know much about working in marine biology but i gotta say from my own personal experience in working in a career related to smth im passionate about (i work in the dog world) definitely has serious drawbacks in that im hitting serious exhaustion and burnout and it feels like my passion itself is kinda burning out. so yeah gotta say totally respect not wanting to go into a career specific to the animal you love.

ajsjdjsjs i did mention bombshells!kara’s three moms (four actually if you count her earth adoptive mother) twice huh. the silliest part is when i mentioned it the second time i even remember. going back and checking if i had mentioned it previously but clearly i didn’t read my own words throughly enough, whoops lmao

yeah supergirl was originally a cbs show for s1 and then i forget the details but it switched over to the cw for s2. thats why supergirl was set on a different earth from the rest of the arrowverse (up until they changed that with their version of crisis on infinite earths and they decided no more multiverse, which really is no fucking fun i love a multiverse)

i haven’t read the new green arrow run but i think i may give it a try bc i do enjoy comics ollie (he’s VERY much preferred to arrow oliver in every possible way ((which is kinda like saying i prefer pizza over a moldy slice of bread))) and i have a friend who’s really into green arrow comics so it could give me smth to talk about with them too.

also yeah!! thrift stores are hard for me too. it took me a long time but i can buy clothes from thrift stores now because they can go directly in the washing machine but anything else is a pretty hard no. i hope this isnt weird to say but its nice to find solidarity/similarity in struggling w/used items.

i actually own a physical copy of wonder woman warbringer!!! i got it as a gift, and then my dog decided to rip the cover of it and made me very upset (he has now been assigned Wonder Woman Hater-he also ripped up some wonder woman stickers i got as a completely separate gift) but yeah i really enjoyed warbringer, wouldve loved it even more if they let alia be diana's love interest instead of that dude who i barely remember (maybe i should reread its been a long time) i will have to add wild and wicked things to my to read list! one of my friend groups just convinced me to start the raven cycle series so i ended up listening to that on my drive to my parents today, i havent formed a solid opinion on it yet but ive been intriuged/enjoying it so far!

you know i actually dont remember if i read the harley x bop run or not. i feel like i probably did but i have no memory of it. alas such is the way my memory works

okay i kinda liveblogged my reading of injustice a little bit which i will put below the cut for you, its a little scattered bc i read a lot in one sitting last night after work and then fell asleep (on the couch lmao) but ive definitely gotten invested in it. but i have to ask, does dinah not come back until injustice 2? (she comes back right? i feel like i definitely remember seeing panels out there of her and other earth ollie). anyways. yeah here are some of my thoughts i had, a bit scattered, i might attempt more coherent thoughts later but i wanted to finally respond to this ask <3

okay i finished year one of injustice and i am continuing to read as i write this reply. i have to say it is by no means my favorite comic series and its a bit frustrating at times however..... the dinah of it all.... yeah. i was also really loving the dinahollie of it all, i did... forget that ollie dies in injustice. didnt know superman literally beat him to death. killing martian manhunter and green arrow really isnt a good look for superman i gotta say.

the hardest thing with reading injustice so far has been the whole wonder woman aspect of it but ive simply chosen to decide that its not really diana. like idk who that is but that is Not My Wonder Woman <3 i simply know her better. it is nice to see some of the other heroes working with superman questioning things and beginning to have Doubts about what superman is doing. (i feel so bad for shazam who is literally a fucking child he should not have to be a part of these horrors.) and im curious to see what reactions will be if/when they find out superman killed ollie bc like, sure he had a justification for killing martian manhunter (he was trying to kill imposter wonder woman) but ollie was just vibing (he... put an arrow in papa kent but papa kent was fine about it! and that was after clark starting attacking ollie) now if i remember correctly injustice brings in like an alternate earth version of ollie? looking forward to when that happens i hate when dinah is sad.

and okay just got to ollie's funeral and damn even hal's staying on superman's side huh. homoerotic friendship means nothing to hal i see. (i dont actually know that much about hal but from my understanding he does have a homoerotic friendship with ollie and i support that)

okay i just got to the beginning of harley & dinahs friendship and oughghghghghghghghghhghghghghg i love them (i had seen pretty much the entire interaction between harley & dinah that i just read previously but it still was so good and wonderful)

okay so its been a minute since the last sentence (more than a minute) i got home from work and literally.... read all of year two and year three. its 1:30am rn and i really need to not start year four but ouugh. year two was very good for me as a dinah fan. year three not so much however year three did have zatanna and i do love zatanna. (coulda been more zatanna in my opinion)

[clemencetaught]

@jeoseungsaja sent in:

He'd been out all day. And this time not to get physically wounded in the process (nor to be frantically consumed by a case that's been taking his sleep away for years), but to take a last-minute trip to the beach. To send messages upon the sand. When he was little, his mother, Da-Eun, used to tell him that messages written on the sand, when touched by magnanimous waves, would be sent to those who are no longer among the living. 'Think of them as angels in the water,' she used to say with a smile, whilst taking Hyuk's small hand and guiding him to the endless grains of salt, 'they will take your message anywhere, so the one you're sending it to can read it.' He remembers writing one for his biological mother. And as time went by, he remembers writing many to Da-Eun, too. And now, to his best friend, Patrick. If it was for him, he would've sent his dear friend an entire book of thoughts. However, it's always been hard to realize that these are the only letters that, maybe (even if it's a product of imagination), will get to him. Lines on the sand, taken by sea's foam. He just writes a simple message. Hope it gets somewhere; somewhere, near him. Happy Birthday, Dae-yah. You are missed. He drinks tea in his name. Eats one of those curry puffs he liked so much. Then he heads back; head heavy. He doesn't expect anyone to be there; he told Suki and Jae-Hwan to take the day off, too. Nevertheless, when he twists the doorknob, he sees that familiar shadow again. The Black Knight. He wonders if he knows. If he cares. Well, if he read Patrick's file, then he would know. But who knows if he cares. "I'm not in the mood to see anyone today." A bitter grumble; dark eyes (saddened and tired) looking up to see the covered figure. "Any business you may have, bring it another day." But not today; not today, where he wants to remember Patrick's LIFE instead of his DEATH. He sighs, then basically pushes a bag upon the Black Knight's chest. It's a plastic bag, with the legend of red 'thank you's' written all over it. "Here, have this. I don't need it anymore." Inside, there's a foam container with multiple curry puffs. He doesn't tell him why, there's just an impulse of giving this to him, somehow. As if feeling this man is more or less similar to him. Barely eats. "Now go. Please." Nicely, because as he looks into those eyes, something simply...itches. Gnaws. Pulls strings. "I'll...see you soon." Hyuk forgot to take out the receipt from the bag. The yellowish strip has doodles made with blue ink; a hedgehog with a party hat. It also has the message 'happy birthday, best friend' written next to the drawing. Maybe letters in the sand are sent, after all. They arrive, perhaps. Not in the same of foam, but in the shape of silly doodles and receipts. (HELLO DEAR FERRE, I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND ME SENDING THIS YOUR WAY WIUEDHWIUEDH, there's no need to reply or anything BUT, I HAD TO SEND IT, EVEN IF IT'S A LITTLE LATE; HOPE THIS IS OKAY, TAKE MUCH CARE, CARE YOU TONS!!)

He shouldn’t be here.

Well, there are a lot of places Myungdae shouldn’t be, but when has that ever stopped him? So he offends ANACHRON and the law and probably a bunch of other people by trespassing, but isn’t that the Black Knight’s job in the first place? Stepping on the toes one person, one organization, one complex at a time in order to get the desired result. Waiting around and playing by the rules clearly doesn’t get him or the victims anywhere so he shouldn’t feel any guilt for this set of felonies.

And he doesn’t. Not really.

It shouldn’t be any different here, especially when neither the law nor ANACHRON ( or ARGOS for that matter ) are involved here. 

That being said- a different kind of guilt sets in his stomach here. It’s the kind where he promised Nell he would take the day off today of all days because according to her, ‘it’s your BIRTHDAY, you’re not supposed to work on your birthday’. She didn’t even let him make breakfast for her, Hiro, and Elise like he usually does. 

“Your only job is to relax for today, mate,” she had said, jabbing a finger at him that morning.

( Embarrassingly, or maybe it’s been his preference, he had forgotten about it- his birthday, one chilly day in February. When ARGOS made his new identity, it had taken Myungdae a long minute or two to remember:

“Birthday?” The stenographer had asked, fingers clicking away on his typewriter. In comparison to Nell’s typing, it was cacophony, inhospitable as the grey walls of the facility itself. Nothing at all like Nell’s. He hated it, the way it filled the silence between the probing questions.

Myungdae wavered, eyes glued to the table. When was the last time someone had asked him that? He closed his eyes trying and failing to summon an image of a calendar. “…February.” Which day was it? It wasn’t at the end, but it wasn’t quite at the start either. “Tenth.”

Could you blame him though? When the bulk of his five years were spent purely on a. avoiding ANACHRON, b. making sure ARGOS didn’t think he was burden, or c. most importantly, survival, birthdays, in turn, seem rather…ridiculous. Facetious when there are more important things to be concerned over. )

Myungdae stared back at her, eyes still groggy from having slept bent over his desk instead before she huffed, hands on her hips. “Birthdays are days only good things are allowed to happen, yeah?”

( She was kind enough to just serve him his usual first cup of coffee, however. Nevermind the hearty breakfast that she and Hiro had technically made for him; they could always have leftovers tomorrow. Alfred was kind too- simply gave him his usual coffee order and claimed it was ‘on the house’- he was practicing Latte Wednesdays, you see. )

Which implicitly also means- no BLACK KNIGHT activities today.

And yet here he is lying to her. And slipping into Hyuk’s shoebox of an office in the dead of night. He has yet to truly ask himself- why does he keep returning, coming to this mulishly hard headed detective? This detective whose bite is about as acidic as the words he flings out both carefully and recklessly. It stings each time, each visit like a scab picked off too soon. 

Myungdae tells himself each time he leaves- this will be the last time. Last time he sees his dear friend. Last time he sinks into the past. Last time he’ll put Hyuk in danger.

Sure, Hyuk won’t forgive him, just as he probably hasn’t forgiven Patrick Grace for leaving too soon, but he’ll be ALIVE.

And isn’t that the most important thing, above all else? What other reason would those last five years have been for then?

The detective is not there when Myungdae at first arrives, but air is still abloom with the scent of lilies of the valley and dust. He checks the pot by the window sill- moist, for once. Looks like the detective remembered to water it for once. 

And speaking of which, the door opens. And Myungdae dives into the shadows without another moment to spare. Oh, how Hyuk truly is a conundrum in the way he makes Myungdae’s heart race both in anticipation but also in fear. 

Myungdae is quick to roll his eyes- since when is the detective ever seeking out company? If anything, it’s the other way around: company seeks him out and then clings to him like wet seran wrap. But then he looks up, confused as suddenly, he’s carrying a bag- what’s that smell? It’s fragrant and delightful and familiar and-

He peeks inside before pulling out one of many curry buns. 

Oh. Aren’t those more common in the United Kingdom? If one really wanted to eat them here in Seoul, they’d have to go out of their way to find, like some place in Itaewon. He drops the curry bun back into the bag.

“...I’m not here on any business.” Well, does he ever have a good reason to come back here over and over again? He’s about to dish out another quip when Hyuk’s voice gives him pause. For some reason, it’s almost…hurts to hear. There’s no acidity, no anger- just…melancholy. And a hint of desperation- like he’ll BREAK if the Black Knight says another word. The Black Knight shuts his mouth, frowning.

It stings again though, a little bit more than usual- being told to leave, even if Hyuk will be expecting him on another day. “Very well. I’ll…I'll come back another time.” He opens the window and pauses before leaping out. “...Sleep somewhere that isn’t your desk. Otherwise, you’ll blow your back out.” 

A fair distance away from the eyes of the detective and the rest of the city, Myungdae removes his hat and then his mask before reaching into the red bag. He pulls out the receipt- oh. That’s why.

And here Myungdae thought the detective would have…forgotten after all these years. Isn’t that what time is supposed to do to grief anyways- soften the edges and make the details a little blurrier, a little more difficult to remember? Fingers glide over the hedgehog and underline the hastily scrawn message: happy birthday, best friend.

Myungdae sighs.

( When he gets back to base, Nell and Alfred are both waiting for him. Alfred, for once, sympathetic, and Nell, a little peeved, but can she be blamed? They all know this lifestyle is all-consuming- once you start, it’s hard to put the sword back down. Addictive. Myungdae doesn’t say anything, only perching on the table and setting Hyuk’s bag beside him. He opens the container, takes out A CURRY PUFF and takes a bite, chewing. Slowly.

It’s still warm. Just a little bit.

He takes another bite. )

[maladaptivedaydreamsx]

Watching the intro and doing the prologue again feels so nostalgic.. and it probably hasn't even been a whole year yet since I started Ikerev at that..... hot damn im emotional rn 😭💙

Edit: IT'S FINALLY DONE INSTALLING, LET'S GOOOOO BAABEEEYYY !!!!! It's show time 🎊

....i still have no idea whose route to start off with tho. don't wanna do a route i wanna do soon on main, don't wanna just redo, but also not sure who i "like least" to do here... hmm... well, based on what ive heard about lancelot and sirius' routes..... might end up going for those...? 🤔

> think im just gonna use aerin on there too bc if i use alice then i wont know when they're using the name or not, + in case i share screenshots on here then.. eh might as well lol