#or to be more kind - i forget how they are still very much kids and act like kids

[ryllen]

Look what came through the mail today! The letters & ( •̀ω•́ )σ 3 little gremlins from letterstoear.

Just wanna say i adore the flower stickers on the letters too much, they are that much worth mentioning.

[handweavers]

i always forget how embarrassing cringey etc 18 yr olds/uni freshmen behave in the classroom god bless taking a first year class full of kids fresh from high school is like. love u all but i'm nearly 25 years old and emotionally an octogenarian and i'm too tired for this right now please stop yelling

[orcelito]

Ok but reading my journal I kept in middle school, I had SUCH a "lol I'm so random!" Mindset. Which yea it was like 2010 that was all the rage & also I was 13. But ALSO I feel like my brain is still kinda in that same constant hyperactive kinda state & like. Yea. Yeah .

[ioniiaa]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 14- FINALE!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 14 (Final)

Part 14:

A few weeks had passed by the time you were fully recovered. In those weeks, the hotel was busy and bustling in preparation for the wedding.

To make sure you recovered properly, Charlie insisted that she and Vaggie be in charge of wedding planning during this time. You didn't have any objections to it, your only requirements were that it was kept low-key (meaning a small wedding with only those closest to you guys) and that it was to be a simple and short ceremony with Charlie as the officiant.

While the rest of the gang were busy going about their normal lives and helping out with some preparation here and there, Alastor had your belongings moved to his room and took care of your injuries and saw to your recovery personally.

It broke his heart to see how badly you had been injured prior to your arrival at the hotel. He also felt extremely guilty about how roughly he had treated you, accidentally making some of your injuries worse temporarily. To heal his heart and mind, he had to heal your body first.

The two of you spent so much time together, hardly ever spent a moment apart- you two had a lot of lost time to make up for after all. Often as Alastor tended to your injuries, changed your bandages, and even helped bathe you to ensure you wouldn't slip or fall as you got in and out of the tub- you two exchanged stories of all kinds. Stories from when you were both alive, your pasts when alive, and so much that had happened in the decades in Hell that had passed when the two of you were separated.

As the date of the ceremony approached, after you had mostly recovered, matters required you to leave the hotel more often.

For example, when it came to dress shopping, Alastor was very insistent that he had to come with- he was still very paranoid that if you were separated from his side that you would come to harm. Though with enough pestering- Charlie was finally able to convince him to stay at the hotel so that the wedding dress shopping party only consisted of you, Charlie, and Angel.

Shopping with the two of them was a fun memory you'll never forget, with lots of laughter because of the hilarious contrast between Charlie's wholesome comments/tearing up and Angel's teasing/cat-calling (in a loving way- of course). Though when you finally tried on the dress, even Angel had no witty comebacks to respond with, both him and Charlie were left speechless.

Angel and Charlie weren't the only ones speechless - when those who were invited to the wedding showed up the hotel, they all had their mouths gaping open at the amazing decor. They few guests assumed that the invitation they received in the mail was a prank!

(Charlie may have needed to ask some favors from Lucifer for the decorations- though he couldn't hide his disgust as to who his daughter was asking him to do this for... His distaste for Alastor was always apparent. But who are we kidding- Lucifer can't resist Charlie's puppy-dog begging eyes no matter what.)

Jovial jazz music filled the air as Alastor walked out into the main lobby, "Why hello! It is so good to see you, Rosie! ... Mimzy."

"Oh Alastor! How come ya never introduced me to ya darlin' (y/n) before!" Rosie flashed her signature smile and sauntered over to give Alastor a tight hug.

"Yeah! Geeze, Alastor, after all we've been through, you never thought to bring her over to my joint or ya know, let me know she was even down here! I've missed the gal too, ya know!" Mimzy stomped on over to Alastor, hands on her hips as she glared at him.

"Hmmmm. Ah yes, Mimzy. How could I ever forget to bring her over to your... "sophisticated"... bar where she "definitely wouldn't" be in danger?" Static noises started to interrupt the music that had started playing earlier. Alastor would be lying if he said he was happy to see Mimzy. He knew she was important to you, but part of him can't help but blame her for your early death. Not only that, but she always had a habit of bringing trouble wherever she went, forcing him to clean up her messes. He didn't trust her to keep you out of danger.

"Well! If I do say so myself, I am parched! Where can a lady quench her thirst in this joint?" Rosie piped up to break up the tension as she walked around the room and examined the decor some more. "Alastor, I really love what ya guys did to this place- stunning work, really!"

"Oh my gosh, hi, Rosie! Nice to meet you again, Mimzy! It's been so long!" Charlie seemingly burst out of nowhere and shook both Rosie and Mimzy's hands. For once Alastor was thankful for the princess's ability to not read the room.

"This way, this way! The ceremony will be held in one of the ballrooms, follow me!"

After being relieved of Rosie and Mimzy's presence, Alastor disappeared into the shadows to retreat into this radio tower where he would remain until it was time.

With Rosie and Mimzy's arrival, the last of the guests had arrived. Yup, it was a very small group- just as you had requested (much to Alastor's relief. He could easily handle people, but you knew large groups of people irritated him much more than he would let on).

Meanwhile, Angel was helping you get ready. He knew his way around makeup and beauty the best out of anyone in the hotel after all.

You sat on a stool as Angel fussed over all the little details of your hair and makeup. As he did so with remarkable speed (due to his many arms), you found yourself smiling.

Not only was it the day that you would finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor, but you found yourself smiling as you reminisced on the journey that led up to this moment- how you've come to truly cherish your newfound friendships with everyone at the hotel.

Angel, who became a very close friend to you after you two had many heart-to-hearts and shared a fondness for cracking jokes, something you discovered over many nights at the bar together. Often after you two were done at the bar, you'd have beauty/spa nights which often led to more gossip sessions- something you were never able to indulge in when you were alive. Occasionally even Cherri joined in on the gossip sessions- practically bursting the door down if she ever felt like stopping by unannounced.

Husk, was someone you could always trust him to give his honest and objective opinion on anything you asked- which you found to be invaluable whenever you showed him any of your art. Though he often didn't understand the abstract complexities you drew, it was always a great source of entertainment for you- his confusion apparent as he tried to interpret it seriously before giving up with a "Fuck it, I don't know anything about this bougie shit!" - always causing you to erupt in laughter every time without fail.

Charlie, of course, was always your ray of sunshine and was someone you very much respected. She saved your life without knowing who you were, regardless of the potential danger. You feel as if you'd never be able to repay her kindness, so you offer to stay at the hotel even after you recover and help work however you can after the wedding.

Vaggie, you felt a kindred spirit in and also respected a great deal. Someone with such an intense sense of justice and duty was truly a sight to see, you could always see it in her eyes. She was often busy, so you hadn't been able to spend as much time with her as you would have liked to so far, the few times you were able to sit down with her were always a pleasure. Whenever she needed love/relationship advice, she came to you. Funnily enough, Charlie did too, so you were flattered that the two girls liked and trusted you so much.

Even Nifty, who always made sure to dust you or pluck some random out-of-place hair whenever she saw you, stopped calling you stinky! You wondered if it was because you spent most of your time around Alastor...?

"Alright! Hehe, you look absolutely stunning if I do say so myself, doll face!" Angel stood back from you to admire his work with a huge satisfied grin on his face.

He spun you around to face the mirror that your back was previously facing, "Hey, whaddya think? One of my best works yet!"

You chuckle and lean in closer to the mirror, "Wow... Angel! Gosh... you never cease to amaze me!"

You then stand up and give Angel a hug, "Thank you... Angel... this means a lot to me..." Angel pulls back from the hug and nudges you in the shoulder, "Hey now toots, no crying on me now! We just finished your makeup, don't go ruining it now!"

"I know! I know! Haha!" You laugh and smack him back playfully.

"Ah shit, it's almost time, we gotta get a move on, come on!" Angel quickly grabs your bouquet with one hand and takes your hand wit another and leads you down what feels like a maze of corridors. He lets go of your hand when the two of you reach a set of double doors that indicates it's one of the ballrooms and not just a regular room.

Upon hearing your arrival, you see Charlie's head peek out of the door. After seeing you standing there, she quickly sneaks of the ballroom. "FIrst of all- oh my gosh (y/n)! You look BEAUTIFUL! But it's time for your entrance, lets go!" Charlie offers her arm out to you. You link your arm through her's, then you look over at Angel who hands you your bouquet, "You got this ,(y/n)." He said with a wink before slipping into the ballroom.

You took a deep breath and looked at Charlie who gave you a heartwarming nod as she took a step closer to the door, hand grasping the handle. "Ready, (y/n)?"

"I've been ready for decades."

Upon entering the small ballroom, soft jazz music filled the air and you gasped as you took a look around the stunningly decorated space. Charlie was very insistent that this be a surprise and by god, you were speechless- you never could have dreamed of a more beautiful space to finally exchange vows with your beloved Alastor. You were starting to get misty-eyed already!

The very same Alastor who was now all dressed up in a new formal outfit and stood at the other end of the ballroom with his hand outstretched towards you. It took all the self-control you had to keep you from running into his arms right then and there.

Walking to the front, you pass by the small group of friends both you and Alastor had invited to this exclusive occasion. You could see Rosie clutching her hands to her chest in awe, Mimzy was trying to fight back tears as she kept dabbing her eyes (ruining her makeup in the process), and the rest of the hotel members. Angel was clinging onto Husk for dear life as you heard a quiet whisper from the spider that was accompanied by a dramatic sniffle, "Oh god I never knew I was capable of feeling so sappy."

You chuckled at the sight of Nifty, who volunteered to be your "flower girl". She was scurrying all around, scattering petals but then immediately picking them back up again like it was the best game ever!

"Oh, be still my dead-yet-beating heart" You thought to yourself as you finally reached the front of the ballroom and were able to place your hands in Alastor's. You'd never seen Alastor this dressed up before. You always thought he was attractive but oh my god, was this a whole new playfield that you didn't even know was possible!

Charlie then went to stand next to Vaggie, who were both your officiants for the wedding. A bit untraditional, sure, but this was Hell- everything's a bit unconventional here.

The music fades to a quiet level before Charlie pipes up, starting the ceremony, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate this momentous occasion with us today! Today we are here to commemorate the marriage between (y/n) and Alastor!"

"In a shocking twist of events, the last few weeks have proven us wrong that yes, even the Radio Demon, is still capable of love." This remark from Vaggie earns a few chuckles from those sitting in the guest seats, earning a glare from Alastor as he tightened his grip on your hands. You rub your thumbs over his hands in reassurance, causing his grip to relax again. You smile at Charlie and Vaggie, nodding as you signal them to continue.

Charlie cleared her throat before she continued, "Ahem! Yes! But with that, we also gained an amazing new friend here - (y/n)! And I just want to say (y/n) that I am SO proud of you, you've done nothing but bring lots of joy and laughter into this hotel. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we love you and appreciate you (y/n)! Alastor is a very lucky man and we are honored to be a part of your journey!" You could hear some applause and a holler that likely came from Angel- because you heard a scoff from Husk that followed immediately after.

"That's right, Charlie! Because we respect you both so much, we'll not delay you two love-birds from finally exchanging your vows any longer." Vaggie said as she dragged Charlie away to take a seat in the audience.

You take a deep breath and look into Alastor's eyes, your heart racing a mile a minute.

"I honestly thought I would know what to say by now! I've been dreaming of this day for decades!" You nervously laugh out loud before continuing, "All I can think about now is how thankful I am to have met you when we were alive. You gave me a spark of light and hope in the darkness that I never thought was possible in my life. Meeting you gave me the courage to break free from the cage that kept me trapped like a poor little bird who couldn't fly free. You showed me what true love should be like- even if it meant eating a few people along the way... haha. But you treasured me, you gave my life meaning again and I'll always love you. I'll always be your's, Alastor."

You look down at the floor, embarrassed that you spilled your heart out in front of so many people. Now it was Alastor's turn to reassure you with a gentle squeeze of the hands.

"My dearest (y/n), now, I am not usually one to be so 'sappy'- especially in the company of others, however, I think I can make an exception for you this one time."

Alastor took one hand, the other still holding your other hand, and gently lifted your chin back up so that your gaze would be back on him. To say that this made your heart skip a few beats would be an understatement!

"It may still shock you all, but yes, (y/n) is indeed my beloved that was taken from me all too soon back when we were alive. When I buried her body and held her in my arms for what I thought was the last time- I said these words that still ring true to this very day and will continue to do so forever more-, ' In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, (y/n)' " You feel the tears start to well up even more, threatening to burst forth at any second, all while not breaking eye contact with him as he continues on.

"I truly relish in this opportunity to finally make you mine, as I had wished to do so for what feels like an eternity. Much like you had described dear, your surprise appearance in my day-to-day life truly shook my world. Why, upon meeting you for the very first time, hearing your voice felt like it was akin to listening to most beautiful music I had ever heard- truly! As a radio host, I was very familiar with many musicians, but no instrument or vocalist ever held a candle to you my dear. No ever has and no one ever will, and I will be sure to protect you at all costs this time, ma chérie ..."

As he trailed off, your face immediately flushed red all over at Alastor's vows. But before you had time to process what was happening, Alastor manifested a new pair of rings and slid one onto your left hand, replacing the previous one. Then with a snap of the fingers, the other matching ring appeared on his left hand.

Somehow the rings were even more beautiful than the one you had before. Upon seeing the sight of both your and Alastor's hands finally wearing matching rings, you burst out into tears, overcome with emotion.

Alastor chuckles before pulling you in for a kiss- shocking everyone in the room, everyone making a collective gasp. Even your own eyes were wide open in shock, before you then relaxed into the kiss in Alastor's embrace.

It wasn't before long that the room was filled with cheers, hoots, hollers, and clapping.

Pulling away from the kiss, Alastor leaned his forehead against your's- just a brief sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he stared lovingly into your eyes. You sniffle as you return the smile, chuckling at the sensation of your cheeks feeling sore from smiling so much and so intensely.

"I truly adore you with all my heart and soul, dearest. Thank you, for being the one to complete me."

Tag List:

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[stevieschrodinger]

Eddie notices things.

He might be loud and brash, might be over the top and his mouth might run away before his brain can kick in, but he still notices things.

He likes the details. Loves a fantasy world that’s so detailed it’s believable. Loves a tiny detail in a story that becomes relevant two hundred pages later. Loves a detail in a puzzle in a DnD game. He loves the minutia of everything.

So he notices these details about people. Mostly because Eddie likes to create people. He likes to write his own stories, likes to make his DnD characters real...foibles and all. Any time Eddie is alone, or bored, or waiting, sometimes he looks around and thinks, ‘if I were writing this, how would I describe it?’ And then he does...he writes in his head about the tree he can see, what the weather is doing right now, how he would describe the quality of the sunlight or the way the rain rattles against the window. He watches complete strangers and writes out their whole life in his head. Eddie likes the details, and he likes to create characters, and he also thinks, a lot of the time, you write what you know.

So yeah, Eddie pays attention to the people around him. How they dress, how they behave, if they bite their nails or chew pen lids. If they stand straight or lounge against the nearest wall or counter. How they cradle their smoke in their hand when it’s breezy out.

All the little details he can build into characters he makes in his mind.

Steve’s calendar interests him. It probably shouldn’t, that stuff would be private if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s hanging in Steve’s kitchen where anyone can see it. Plus the fact that it is just a calendar and there for by it’s nature isn’t very interesting. Eddie thinks he finds it interesting just by the virtue that it’s to do with Steve Harrington, and therefore it immediately becomes very interesting to Eddie.

It’s got big pages, a decent amount of space to write in every day. And Steve has. Every single day.

There’s a pattern to it that Eddie deciphers pretty fast; his shift at work is on the top line; it’s in red. Next is anything to do with the kids, and it’s in green; picking the kids up or meeting them or going to a game for Lucas or basically anything like that. Then blue, and that seems to be stuff to do with Eddie himself, Robin, Nancy, if he needs to meet them, give them a ride somewhere, or just times to hang out.

The bottom line is in black, and it’s stuff like, ‘hoover’, ‘do laundry’, ‘bathroom,’ ‘kitchen’, ‘groceries,’ followed by a little note that seems to be about whatever Steve plans to have for dinner that night.

Below it is a note pad, also hanging up, with an in process grocery list on it. Eddie knows why all this is here; Steve’s forgetful.

If Steve makes plans, he immediately writes it down; Eddie’s seen it for himself.

Eddie sees it too, when Steve’s struggling to hear. If too many people speak at once, or if there’s too much background noise, Steve doesn’t stand a chance.

If he’s not looking at you when you’re speaking to him, chances are, he might not be hearing you. Which, okay, Eddie’s just kind of rolling with it.

Until they get together. No one was more surprised by this turn of events than Eddie, who was convinced that he was just going to pine after Steve forever and that would just be how things were for the rest of his life. That was right up until Steve Harrington held his hand and just sort of...seemed to forget to let go.

Eddie hasn’t pointed it out to him yet, he’s still kind of worried that if he points out the fact that they’re kind of, sort of, dating, Steve might realize and stop again. So yeah, Eddie rides the wave, not at all freaking out when Steve invites him over for dinner and a movie like that’s just a normal thing they do now. Because it is. Because they’re kind of dating.

There’s no answer, but that’s pretty normal, the front door is unlocked a lot of the time, Steve doesn’t want to hinder anyone's entry if there’s any kind of emergency going on, and it’s totally normal now for any of them to just wander into Steve’s house.

Steve is cooking; Eddie can smell it. He stands in the kitchen doorway and says Steve’s name. And predictably, Steve doesn’t react.

Eddie takes this as an opportunity to gauge this. He says Steve’s name a little louder; still nothing.

Eddie tries four times, a step closer and a little louder each time, until the last time, when Steve spins around so fast the spoon he’s holding splatters sauce on the counter top and his other hand flies to his chest, “holy shit.”

“Sorry,” Eddie rubs at Steve’s arm and shoulder as he gets his breathing under control, “you couldn’t hear me.”

Steve shrugs, “it’s fine.”

“Stevie…you could at least, you know, go get them checked, or whatever.”

Steve hums, "maybe, if you go with me," and Eddie's quick to agree, because he gets a kiss out of it.

[harmonictechnicality]

Eddie develops a strange habit after sex. It’s not exactly cute or romantic or nice. Nothing bad either. It’s just… well, Steve isn’t too sure what it is. But every time, it’s the same damn thing.

He collapses onto Steve’s chest and says:

“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”

Usually, Steve is still recovering from the fucking downpour of post-orgasm endorphins. So he doesn’t question it. Hell, he stopped challenging Eddie’s tolerance to geek out months ago. Dude holds fantasy knowledge in his brain better than he holds his liquor.

Which is saying a lot.

Anyways, Steve never has the mental capacity to react or respond. Instead, he runs his fingers through Eddie’s sweat-soaked hair for awhile. Scratches out little patterns on his scalp because it always makes Eddie go limp. Quiet.

Quiet is a rarity for him. And while Steve is totally weak for Eddie’s chattiness, the quiet can be nice too.

The only reason Steve finally decides to ask about it is because Eddie slips up. Says it before they have sex.

Steve is against the bedroom door, his nails dragging down Eddie’s back. God, he loves this kind of kissing. The lung draining kind. The type that’s sort of filthy from all the heat and grinding. 

Eddie hasn’t marked him up this bad since that time someone at work noticed his neck. Asked if Steve was having an allergic reaction during an office-wide meeting.

And this is going to be even worse. Steve can tell by the sounds and the soft pricks of Eddie’s teeth. He can tell by how long Eddie spends over each spot, like the bruising skin needs more attention than the rest of him. Like licking them over will make the colors last longer.

The damage has been done. Really no point in stopping him when it feels so fucking good. Steve forgets to worry about  how mauled he’s gonna look tomorrow because his head is swimming with Eddie’s lips on his neck. His collarbone. His chest.

That’s when it happens. That’s when Eddie’s strange habit makes an early appearance. 

He kisses over the blistery mess he made, practically growls the words out this time: 

“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”

“Okay, time out.” Steve says. Heaves some air back into his lungs. Pulls Eddie’s face up before he can continue making Steve look like goddamn target practice. 

Eddie blinks a few times. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Gonna have to wear fucking high-collared shirts all week, but whatever.

He’ll bring that up some other time. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Saying what?”

“That… thing.” Steve barely can spit it out.  It’s like his throat is physically rejecting the nerdy shit he’s about to say. “You keep calling me… a cyborg or something.” 

“Oh that.” Eddie sighs. Casually shrugs to one side. “It’s your fault actually.”

“How is it my fault? I don’t even know what fucking language you’re speaking.”

Eddie walks over to the bed, chanting Steve’s name over and over. Definitely not in the way Steve prefers him to chant his name. Very un-sexy chanting.

“Remember that day you asked me to grab your car keys?” He asks, patting the bed for Steve to join him. 

No. “Kinda?”

Steve hesitates before walking over. He didn’t necessarily wanna stop their primal makeout session. But it was bound to lead to the bed at some point, so…

Just not like this. Not talking while fully clothed. Blech.

He sits next to Eddie. Hands awkwardly fidgeting in his lap.

“Well, I couldn’t find them.” Eddie admits. “So I ended up going through your desk drawers.”

Of course he did. Perpetual snooper.

“Ended up finding a binder full of medical records.”

Well shit.

Steve’s throat tightens. Swells around the sudden guilt he feels for keeping this from Eddie. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a metal plate in your head?”

“Dunno. Hardly even remember it.” That’s only partly true. Steve doesn’t remember the surgery or much of the recovery process. He was only a kid when it happened.

But he does remember the hospital smells. He remembers the sounds of his IV bag dripping throughout the night. All the sensory indicators are still fresh in his mind.

“Well, that’s why. You're part-machine.” Eddie points to Steve’s head, expression softening. “And every time we fuck around, I think about your bionic skull. And how glad I am that it keeps your brain from leaking out when I bend you over the way you like it best.”

Steve laughs. The jokes help lighten the mood. Not enough to replace it entirely, but enough for it to be easy to swallow again. 

They’re both quiet as they get ready for bed, folding the covers down. And yeah, sometimes quiet can be nice. Just maybe not right now.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

Steve stares hard at the pillows. “Are cyborgs like… cool?”

Eddie pauses for a moment, then hops onto the bed. Starts crawling over to Steve with a smug grin. He lifts up to meet Steve’s lips. Kisses him sweeter than normal. Lighter. Starts nodding his head mid-kiss, keeps nodding as he breaks away.

“Yeah, babe. Cyborgs are so fucking cool.”

[bluerosefox]

GHOSTS WITH HEARTBEATS

When Jason had been going to Gotham Academy, he had (for a good reputation for the media and to help him catch up on his penmanship, remember he had been on the streets and dropped out of school before getting picked up by Bruce for a while) signed up for a penpal project for 'less privileged people' to write to.

(Although Jason was annoyed the penpal project stayed within the states and only selected a middle of nowhere town, he knew the Richie Rich Elites would never subjugate their 'Heirs' to actual kids in need of learning how to read and write)

But Jason didn't mind his penpal.

Danny Fenton was a riot to talk, err write to in all honestly.

From his dry punny humor (and boy can he give even Dick a run for his money in the pun department but hey using some of them actually got Dick to warm up to him a few missions ago) and death jokes so many death jokes, to his nerdy love for space Jason enjoyed writing to Danny.

Even the short stories he would write about a ghost kid protecting a small town from other ghosts was interesting to read. He really liked the different kinds of ghosts there could be. Granted some seemed very OP like that Clockwork dude.

Jason liked writing to Danny, and even after the penpal project was over they had plans to keep sending letters, maybe even exchange numbers soon...

But then he died by the hands of the Joker.

The letters leaving Wayne Manor may had decreased but the letters being sent never did or at least until a few years ago.

Then Jason somehow returned to the land of the living.

Got taken by the LoA, tossed in the green waters and turned into their Pit Raged weapon for a while before leaving them behind and setting out for his revenge against the Joker and to force B's hand.

And becoming a Crime Boss for a while too. Can't forget that.

Point being with all this going on, the old warm memories of exchanging letters with Danny Fenton was pushed into the back of his mind and forgotten about for a while.

It isn't until one afternoon at Wayne Manor that while roughhousing with Dick, who had Jason in a brotherly headlock as they walked down a hall to one of the sitting rooms, that while Jason had slipped out of Dick's hold had stumbled into a hallway desk that had a few things on the top of it, one of the things being a small box that tumbled off when Jason hit it.

The box lid opened and out of it spilled out a good number of letters.

"Shiii-p, dang it Dick!" Jason said when he looked at the mess he accidentally made and stopped himself from swearing, the place might be named Wayne Manor but everyone knew this was Alfie's domain and no swearing was a rule within his halls.

Dick only laughed and teased only in a way a sibling can do "Hey not my fault your as big as a tank Jaybird! We should get you some caution signals if you keep bumping into things!"

Jason flipped him his favorite finger, thankfully Alfred only knew when they swore thus it did not summon him, and bent down to the letters.

His hands froze when he recognized the hand writing and the address it was sent from.

"From: Danny Fent Nightingale

Amity Park, IL"

To: Jason Todd-Wayne

Gotham City, NJ.

Wayne Manor"

And when Jason opened the letter. He really wasn't expecting what was written inside.

"Jason.

I'm finally leaving Amity Park. I can't be there anymore, not after everything. I'm too tired, and emotionally hurt. Everything is just to much. And I can't keep doing this to myself. My parents still can’t understand there is nothing ‘wrong’ with me or why I refuse to let them take care of Ellie, I refuse to let her live the way Jazz and I did, Jazz has to much on her plate already with her own life and college but she’s been hounding me to reach out to mom and dad, Sam refuses to listen to me when I tell her I want to be more than ‘Phantom’ in Amity Park, and Tucker is so busy trying to get into a good college and job we barely have time to talk nowadays. And don’t get me started on Vlad, that fruitloop’s been breathing down my neck since Ellie’s deaging.

Despite how much of a hellhole you like to call it, I think Gotham might be my, no mine and Ellie’s best bet of living some kind of life, especially now since the whole deaging she had to go through, she needs an ectoplasm rich city as well and since she has no actual papers because she was my clone and I remember you saying Gotham has people who can create new identities and-

I’m rambling again, to letter you again. I really need to stop it.

I can’t keep pretending you’re going to read these.

I know you’ll never read these. You’re gone. I can’t even find you in the Realms no matter where I look.

I’m sorry. For using you as, well, a way to vent my life for last couple of years. I shouldn’t had done it but it helped me.

Believing my friend was still alive and getting my letters I mean.

Again I’m sorry.

This will be my last letter to your ghost, pun unintended.

Goodbye Jason. Wish us luck in your city.

-Danny Fen-Nightingale...."

The sent date on the letter was roughly eight years ago.

[colleendoran]

How Do I Do Stuff

The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.

I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.

Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.

I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.

I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.

This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.

I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.

This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.

But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.

He's pretty, too.

If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.

Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.

Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.

Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.

However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.

Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.

The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.

Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.

I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.

While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.

So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.

If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.

Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.

Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.

So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.

[rogueddie]

Eddie slams his pile of books down on the counter, grinning at how hard Steve startles.

"Jesus, fuck," Steve holds a hand to his chest, glaring. "Man, come on, I'm too young to die of a heart attack."

"Are you sure about that?" Eddie reaches over, to tug at his hair- Steve bats his hand away before he can get near. "What are you now, seventy?"

"I'll have you know that the silver only adds to my charm."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that." He pats the pile of books. "I need to check all of these out."

"You know the limit."

"Please? Pretty please? I'll never insult you for going grey early ever again! Promise!"

"You've made that promise before," Steve grumbles, but starts to check the books out anyway. "What's all of this for anyway? New campaign or something?"

"Nah. Robin mentioned something about the cold war and nuclear shit. Got me curious."

Steve pointedly looks at the books, snorting. "Curious."

"What, you've never wanted to learn some new thing or something?"

"Not this much."

"What about all those sports you played?"

"That was more to do with my parents than me actually wanting to do it."

Eddies eyes narrow because... yeah. Outside of his old King Steve days, Eddie doesn't think Steve has ever wanted something. Not even for his birthday, or Christmas.

All he asks is for them to come to his and Robins flat. All he seems to want is confirmation that they're ok and alive.

"You always say you want kids though, right?"

"I mean, kind of. Though, I'm starting to think the brats we babysat might be more than enough for me."

"Chocolate?"

"Oh no..."

"What?"

"You're planning something, aren't you?"

"No! No, no, no... but there has to be something, right?"

"Something?"

"That you really want."

"There's nothing I need."

"That's not what I'm asking."

"That's all the answer you're getting." Steve shoves the pile of books towards him. "Get lost, I'm supposed to be working."

"Ugh, fine, you're no fun."

But he can't stop thinking about it. He ends up returning the pile of books, despite the fact that he barely read one page. When he tries to use it to question Steve, he dodges the question again.

He very quickly gives up, deciding to pester Robin until she tells him. That takes three weeks of constant, daily efforts. And, in the end, the answer is obvious.

Steve just wants to spend more time with people he cares about.

It's not easy to gather anyone in the party, given that there's no holiday or significant occasion- he manages it, though. All the kids, now young adults, organize transportation. Nancy and Jonathan, over the phone, help Eddie and Robin plan out where everyone will sleep with their small apartments.

The effort, and pain of organizing it all, is worth it for the look on Steves face when he comes home to find them all waiting for him.

When Dustin almost knocks him over with how harm he hugs him, for a second, Eddie is worried that he's going to start crying. But he holds it together, greets them all with so much enthusiasm...

"I forgot that he used to be like this," Robin comments, late into the night. They're sat a little away from the group, watching them argue over their games. "The kids mean a lot to him."

"He means a lot to them."

"I know. I think he forgets though, so... thank you."

Steve doesn't corner him until they've got the kids asleep- half of them going with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle to Eddies appartment, the rest of them fighting over the little space in Steve and Robins.

"You could've got me chocolate," Steve says, nudging him.

"This is what you really wanted though, isn't it? That was the whole point, big boy."

"Right. Sorry, it... I wanted to say thank you. I know this must have taken a lot to organize and-"

"Steve. You don't need to thank me. Besides, I could never have done this on my own."

"Still... thank you." Steve is quiet for a moment, looking out to the busy city street. "What do you want?"

"This."

"No, what do you really want?"

"Yeah, this. Everyones together, having so much fun. We're gonna do a one-shot when you go to work tomorrow. And, uh... you're happy. I don't need anything more than that."

"Right," Steve clears his throat. He shuffles a little closer, so their sides are almost flush together, tentatively reaching out to hold Eddies hand. "You don't need anything else. What about what you want?"

"You know what I want."

"I want you to say it."

Steve leans over, bumping their shoulders together when he hesitates. He smiles, reassuring, and gives Eddies hand a squeeze.

"What do you want, Eddie?"

"You. I- I want you."

It's terrifying to admit, a horrifying leap... but the smile Steve gives him, so soft and happy, is more than worth it.

"As you wish."

[m-ayo-o]

regarding the recent megumi drabble.........hickeys.....lipstick marks.....all over his abs.....and then you go lower....and lower......

that's too hot tho :( i need u to live in my inbox please   said megumi drabble regarding his fine abs 18+ oral / afab reader x 21+ megumi 1.2k wc

After your boyfriend treated you to such a sensual ride on his abs, the following day you just had to repay the favour… you know he's not expecting it– his selfless nature means he only cares about making you feel good, even if he's stiff and bursting through his pants. 

But tonight you're still feeling that intense obsession with his body– as always– and it really isn't helped when he steps out of the shower, all hot with that dreamy, relaxed look in his eyes, his body covered in droplets of water with steam escaping the small room adjacent to your bedroom.

Your tapping and scrolling on your phone is soon forgotten when you look up in time to see him remove the towel from around his waist– you hold your breath and stare.

He gives his hair a rough towel dry then starts swiping the cotton over his body, collecting the beads of water that rest over his defined muscles. It's not like he's trying to turn you on… but everything he's doing just looks so sensual. He pats his pale skin dry and you admire the jet black hairs around his body– all trimmed neatly, how his arms flex, then the ridges of his adonis belt and further down… and you think god he takes care of himself. 

You know he works so hard... you want to show him how much it means, and how lucky you are to have such a perfect boyfriend. 

So you stand up and approach him slowly, slinking towards him in your cute nightie. 

“Megumi~?” 

“Mhm?”

“Did I ever tell you…” you pause and take the towel in your hand, “how pretty you are?” 

He snorts a little and releases the damp material, and you drop it on the floor, leaving him completely naked. 

“I'm not kidding,” you insist, trying your best serious face with the king of stoic expressions. You place your hands delicately on his chest and run your fingers up his neck, earning a little crack in the thin line of his lips. 

Starting to rise on your tiptoes, you inch closer to his face. 

“Can I show you, please, how perfect you are.. to me?” 

You know you tell him very often, and you know he appreciates that. Your kindness and sweet words have done wonders for his confidence (perhaps a little too much). But you love it when he accepts your love and compliments and you can tell he feels so comfortable in himself. And of course, he always shows you how much he loves you… but for you, he has started to open that pretty mouth of his and tell you. It means the world to you. 

But now it's your turn to take his approach. So you run your fingers into his inky black hair and bring him into a long and slow kiss. You take the lead, peppering the corner of his mouth then nibbling at his lower lip. You forget that you were still wearing your makeup from earlier when you see smudges on his lips. He won't mind. 

He opens up with a little sigh and you sink into one another. Losing yourself almost entirely, you step over to the bed and press his naked body down, until he's lying under you. Your nightie fans out over his hips and you sit right on the growing bulge of his crotch. It always makes you so excited that it only takes a few kisses and touches to get him hard. 

Your lips move down his body now, still taking it so slow, touching him gently and humming his name, repeating those sweet compliments till he's smiling like an idiot and telling you to stop. He's going to get such an ego if you're not careful. 

But you keep going, skimming your lips over his collarbones and chest, leaving pretty pinkish marks over his body. 

“Mm~” he likes how your lips feel on him… so warm and tender, but he wants a little more, “kiss me harder, baby~” 

And you can't deny your man's sweet request, as you open your mouth and swirl your tongue over his pec before sucking a little bruise on his body. Everything is so dainty with you, even in the way you leave marks on him. They're not like the wide and deep bruises he paints over your neck, but smaller and smattered over his body as he tells you to keep going. 

Your love bites and lipstick stains shower his chest, where you give his nipples a teasing suck, then dip lower over his ribcage, finally reaching the sculpted muscles of his abs. 

Feeling aware of yours and his arousal, you can't help licking and biting him sensually until your lipstick is all smudged. 

And he keeps moaning for more– you know he's feeling totally spellbound by what you're doing to him, so you kiss and suck your way down the ridges of his body till your fingers find those neat dark hairs between his legs. You take the base of his now full and perfectly curved erection in your hand and he shivers. 

“Uhh~~ mmh~” he gulps down a little moan– you surprised him with your assertive motions, knowing that's what he wanted. 

And it's his lucky day, because he doesn't have to ask you to keep going and you take his tip in his mouth and–

“Mmhnm~~ ththankyou, oh god that feels good, princess~”

He hums his praise and wraps his fingers in your hair till you're bobbing up and down eagerly. You wanna take him all the way back– you always try so hard till you gag on him. But, he just finds that even hotter– the sounds you make, the way your spit drips from the smudged pink stains on your lips, and how you have to pull away to gasp for air make him want to finish all over your face.

And he imagines that now, as he takes your neck and makes you swallow him down again and again, repeating this motion till you're tearing up. 

“Sorry- sorry baby~ can't stop– too– ahh– f-fucking good–”

He isn’t going to last long. 

“Gh-mhmm~~”

It's not easy, but you'll happily choke on him till you run out of air. And that eagerness, the way you keep nodding and taking him deeper and further back makes him harder and he starts to lose control.

“Fuck me you take my dick- so fucking well, princess-” 

“Mmmmhm~” 

You nod and swirl your tongue around him so sensually and he swears he sees you try to smile even with your mouth stuffed full and he can’t believe how beautiful you look and– 

“‘m-m cumming– “ he holds the back of your neck really hard, dragging your throat over his dick one more time as he spills his load. He uses your mouth to milk him slower and slower, until he lets go of your neck and you clean him up, taking time to suck on his tip to make him shudder with overstimulation before finally releasing him. 

You take the biggest breath and wipe your mouth, then collapse on his thighs, panting with a giddy smile on your face. You feel his fingers in your hair as he showers you with praise once more, telling you how good you were for him, letting him cum down your throat like that… and how hot you look with your makeup all ruined. 

You lift your head up, eyes scanning over his gorgeous body once more, to see those rosy prints of your lips all over him and you swear you could do it all over again.

megumi | m.list

[fatuismooches]

i don't know if this is how i request so i apologise if i get anything wrong!

could you please do the childhood crush with capitano but instead of capitano, it's pantalone? it's okay if you don't wish to do this!

(p.s. this is my first time requesting, pls go easy on me)

♡ 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 ♡

synopsis: When you were a child, you decided to befriend an orphan who always seemed to be by himself. He would not forget this act of kindness.

includes: pantalone w/ gn! reader

notes: Of course, this was quite fun to write! I hope you all enjoy it. (It gets very fluffy towards the end <3.)

Sneznhaya was one of the worst nations to be poor in, you decided from an early age. You had to have some kind of thick jacket to survive even the warmest days (which was still borderline in the negatives) otherwise you would die so quickly from frostbite. You had to have some kind of fireplace in your house and also a stable firewood source otherwise you’d freeze to death too. You had to be smart about preserving and salting your food because of the cold, and much more difficult tasks that would be easy to do in other nations. All of these factors were part of the reason why orphans did not last very long, unfortunately (unless you were pulled into the House of Hearth… would that be a blessing or curse?)

Even though you were dirt poor, you were still more fortunate than a lot of people in poverty. You had a house, albeit a small one. You had a bed, though it felt like a stone-cold rock most of the time. You had parents who cherished you, although sometimes you did not see them for the whole day since they worked hard so you could go to school instead, even though you should have been working to bring income in. Of course, you kept all of your complaints to yourself. You were far better off than most kids.

The first time you met the boy was on your way home from school. You had exited the raggedy building when you came across a boy with rather well-kept hair. Usually, the children around the slums were untidy and uncaring about their appearance. Yet his looked fine, at least better than average around here. But what drew you in was his brilliant purple eyes. You had never met anyone with that eye color. You didn’t realize you were staring at him until you noticed his eyes were on you. Your words died in your throat of embarrassment, so you quickly nodded your head at him and speedily walked away.

You hoped that you wouldn’t see the boy again, because you didn’t think you’d be able to look him in the eye again. You were the kind of person who cringed at even the slightest dumb thing you did a long time ago and knocked your head against the wall thinking about it. But, it seemed that the Tsaritsa did not answer your prayers because you saw the same boy again the next day. And the next day. And for the entire week. And soon, you realized that his eyes were always trained in the same direction - the school. You connected the dots quickly, mentally prepared yourself for conversation, and strode up to him.

The boy immediately noticed you as you pressed your back against the wall, leaving a bit of distance between the two of you. You didn’t want to invade his personal space.

“So, I’ve seen you here every day. How come?”

Silence.

“Not much of a talker, are you?”

Silence.

“You want to go to school, don’t you?”

“...!”

The boy’s breath hitched for a second and you knew you were right. He turned his gaze from you and looked back at the building, where children were being dismissed. You didn’t need to ask why. It was obvious that he had to work instead to survive. The two of you stood in silence when, all of a sudden, you came up with a genius idea.

“How about I teach you instead?”

The offer had the boy’s neck snapping back to you. “What?”

“Yeah! After school ends, you can come to my house, and I’ll teach you what I learn, and other stuff too. It’ll be like real school, minus the yelling and the crowds and the other annoying things!” The idea seemed better and better the more you spoke. 

He raised his eyebrows in surprise but a look of caution quickly overtook his face, purple eyes conveying a look of distrust.  “What do you want?”

“What do you mean?”

“What’s your motive? Surely you don’t think I’m that naive to believe you.”

You were taken aback. “I-I mean… I don’t really know what to say. I’m just a kid, I don’t really know what ulterior motive I would have. Does wanting to become friends with you count as one? You really look like you want to learn, so I just wanna help you,” you said plainly with a hint of confusion in your voice.

For the second time that day, the boy was taken aback, because he could see that you were being genuine and he couldn’t understand why. You were being kind from the bottom of your heart, and he couldn’t comprehend why you would do this for a stranger.

You tried to ignore the piercing look the boy who was only your age managed to give you. “So can I assume you’re taking the offer? I’m [Name] by the way!”

The boy uttered his real name, and everything began from there.

Every day you invited your newfound friend into your house. Your parents were never home until late, so it was easy to do so. And so began the lessons of you teaching him everything you knew and learned in school. You taught him how to curve the letters of the alphabet correctly. You helped him to learn to read your favorite children’s books. You told him what you remembered of your teacher’s boring rambling about Snezhnaya’s history and that hey, oxygen came from trees! (He knew that, the boy said. He wasn’t that dumb. You pouted.) But the thing he was best at was math. As soon as you taught him the basics, he was speeding through the questions faster than you.

You watched in amazement as he whizzed through the questions without even needing to use his fingers to add (which you still did sometimes, embarrassingly enough.) He was completely focused on it, writing his answers in handwriting that got better every passing day. And soon enough, he handed you his answers to check. It started to become less of a surprise when he got all of them right on his first try, as you compared his work with the one from your homework. 

“You got all of them right again!” you cheered as you shook his shoulders in excitement. “Haha, you’re better than me at this point. I can’t do mental math as well as you can.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you.” If there was one thing you knew about your friend, was that he was a good sweet talker. You’d seen him talk his way out of situations that you would surely die in, and also compliment you like it was nothing.

“At this point, you can become an economics! No, wait… I think it’s called an economist? Or an accountant? Something to do with numbers and counting!”

Something twinkled in his eyes. “Do you really think that?”

“Mhm! You’re the smartest person I know. You adapt to everything so quickly. It took me a long time to get these concepts down yet you did it easily.”

The boy did not say anything but his shoulders relaxed under your touch, and then he spoke. “I’m going to become rich.”

“You are?” you asked, hopping onto the chair next to him. Everyone, regardless of anything, has dreamed of becoming rich. But the way he said it with such firmness had you drawn in.

“Money is the lifeblood of this world. No one can survive without it,” the hardened and steely look in his eyes and voice made you stiffen for a second. “Even the Gods desire to let it flow between their fingers.” 

You looked at him for a few seconds before grabbing his cold hand and squeezing it. “I believe in you,” you declared resolutely. Your friend’s harsh look dissipated and a smile came onto his face. You loved it when he smiled. “Just remember me when you’re rich. Share a bit with me, hm?” you laughed.

But the boy did not laugh at what you meant to be a joke. “I will,” he said firmly. “I’ll give you as much as you want and more.”

Since then, you spent more and more time with him, even outside the regular tutoring sessions. Once you had opened yourself up to him, he had responded somewhat in kind. He liked to talk about things he read in the paper after you taught him to read. Out on the streets, he would ask you about words he saw on shop windows’ he didn’t know yet. Your favorite activity was when you’d give him something to read out loud to you, enjoying how his stumbling grew from frequent to occasional. But when it came to other topics he kept his mouth thin and shut. You never commented on it, but you could see he didn’t have a good relationship with anyone else. It seemed that he held some kind of animosity toward a good chunk of people. Especially the upper class, even some of the kids as you noticed that some of them weren’t very nice to him. Even the Gods themselves weren’t spared from this.

You didn’t know what kind of childhood he had, and you didn’t pry. It wasn’t your business, and furthermore, you wanted him to remember the happier memories he made with you instead. You showed him how to build snowmen and snow angels. You once threw a snowball at his hair and immediately regretted it as he launched a tickle attack back at you. The orphan was your best friend and you soon realized that you had a crush on him. You would lie in bed, rolling over as you thought about the kind of wedding you’d have him with. You would have kids and then the two of you would soon be grandparents and then the house would be so much more lively and fun and- you smushed your face between your pillow. Enough of that! You first had to make sure both of you survived this hellish place to even make it to adulthood.

It got to the point where you wanted to share some of your meager rations with him too. He was always hungry, and you were too but you wanted to help him out as much as you could. You would sneak a good portion of your bread or anything that wasn’t messy under the kitchen table, slip it into your sleeve quickly so your parents didn’t know. You gobbled down your sparse dinner in seconds, not wanting to leave your friend standing outside in one spot for too long. You went into your room and quickly locked the door, glancing at the window near your bed. You pulled the curtains to the side, and there he was! Opening your window always warranted a flurry of snow flying into your face but seeing his face light up was worth it.

Years passed, and the two of you were older, almost adults. You had left school since the only available schooling in the area was for younger kids only, and now worked in a miserable job like most people. But you always made sure to try and visit your long-time friend, who seemed to be busier and busier these days. You had a feeling he was up to something, whether it was good or bad, legal or illegal, but you didn’t pry. His absence had begun to cause you to seek out other company, for it was not good for one to be left alone in their thoughts in this kind of situation. 

Who was your company? The neighborhood kids, of course. They reminded you of when you were younger, even though it was just a few years ago. They always gathered around you when they had time off from their barely paid labor, and you made sure to teach them the same things you taught your crush a few years ago. But you soon learned, it was rather hard to do that when they were so exhausted from working. Tiny hands were already calloused from the back-backing jobs and they were asleep in an instant afterward.

So you did what you could. Having a couple of hours of rest made a big difference to growing bodies, you reminded the kids. You took their shifts on different days and at different times, making sure you wore as many layers as possible so you wouldn’t be caught. The employers wouldn’t take much notice anyway. They didn’t care who did it as long as the work was done. The only thing you did not anticipate was your long-time crush finding you. 

“[Name]?” The callout of your name made your heart freeze. “Don’t worry, it’s just me.” You then recognized the voice as your childhood friend. Turning around, you pulled down the hood and uttered your friend’s name, which you cherished dearly.

“I was looking for you, and I find you here, working in someone else’s place. What are you doing?” The boy’s voice was hushed, laced with a hint of something else underneath. Worry. Concern. Distress. What if you get sick? Get hurt? Get caught?

“Look… I did not mean to worry you. I just, it hurts me to see the little ones spending so much time working. I just want to help them.”

The boy had known you for many years, yet neither his mind could ever comprehend why you were so kind to others. It never benefitted you, only served as extra weight and a burden on your shoulders. “But you already have long shifts to work. Your body can’t handle this…”

“Hey, who was the one who managed to run away with you all those times? I’m pretty strong! Furthermore, as long as I keep the hoodie up, they won’t recognize the difference. Those people don’t care as long as the work gets done. They’re just little kids, you know. Just like we were. Some of them haven’t even learned proper Snezhnayan yet, but they’re out here slaving away and working to the point of exhaustion. I just… can’t. If I can help them keep even a fraction of a childhood intact, I will.”

The boy’s heart was moved by your kindness innumerable times. “But, aren’t you just a kid as well?”

“I am,” you agreed. “But I’m still an older one. Just a bit more until we’re adults, you know. I’ve already had my time. I’d rather help the others now. Besides, it builds stamina and work ethic,” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

Your friend didn’t say anything. There was nothing he could really say, after all. This was just how life was like. But it was days like these where he remembered the promise he made to himself and you - neither of you would have to deal with this ever again, soon.

The boy moved to help you, which surprised you. “You don’t have to, you know. I’m sure you’re busy with other things.”

He shook his head. “I’ve been wanting to spend time with you for a while. I’ve missed you.” You blushed and nervously laughed at his straightforwardness. He could either pretend to be oblivious to your intentions, trying to make you say what you wanted out loud. Or just be so blunt that it caught you off guard.

“Heh, I’ve missed you too. You know, I have a good story for you…”

Since then, your friend had popped up more and more frequently, making your lovesick heart pound. Even if you had nothing left to talk about, you made something up, if only to keep him next to you for a few more minutes. You think he knew what you were doing, but he didn’t comment. You loved him for not exposing you like that. Despite the circumstances of your life not being very great, you always felt great around him. Until one day, you woke up with a splitting headache. Odd, but not unbelievable. You must have pushed yourself too hard yesterday. Your body feels so, so cold, but you have to go… have to go to work, and see your friend. You inched yourself to the edge of the bed, but you did not make it to the end.

You woke up to the hazy sight of your parents and a man. Presumably a doctor, considering how awful you feel right now and his white lab coat.

“It seems your child has… they must have stayed out in the cold too much… overworked… the medicine is quite expensive though, at least… that’s the minimum though…” the words were blurred together for you. Despite your fuzzy mind, you already got the gist of what was going on by the pain-stricken look on your parent's faces. They couldn’t afford that. You went back to sleep.

The next time you were woken up by the voice of the one who held most dear. You didn’t open your eyes, but you knew he was there, from his comforting voice as he stroked your arm. “I told you… overdo it… but that’s just how you are… too kind… make sure… better… love…” Your consciousness drifted away again.

The next few days you did not remember well, until your parents barged into the room with tears in their eyes, holding some sort of package. A sip of water and something fell down your throat, and you were soon asleep again.

You woke up the next day, feeling significantly better than before. Your parents were moved to tears, and they quickly recounted what had happened. Someone knocked on the door, and when they opened it, there was nothing but a package and a note left there. Inside was the medicine you needed, yet they did not know who placed it there. But you already knew the only person who’d do that for you.

You recognized the handwriting on the note as your friend’s. It was almost laughable. When you were first teaching him, he could barely form the letters properly, but he had practiced far more than you ever did, resulting in the pretty curves of words on a surprisingly strong piece of paper. You idly wondered how he managed to get it.

This medicine will make you better. Don’t worry about how I got it.

I have decided to leave this place for a while and pursue the dream I told you about. At first, despite my resolution, I was not sure how to go about it. But after seeing the things that happen to you, to a good person, I made up my mind to attain what I desire.

I would like to write more, but I’m afraid I do not have the time right now. But, do not worry. I will come back for you.

Please don’t push yourself too hard until then. I promise, soon you will not have to suffer any longer. Until then, thank you for believing in me.

The note ended there.

Even though your mind was still fuzzy from the fever, the contents of the letter quickly snapped you out of a stupefied daze. He left? Just like that? Of course, you weren’t mad at him for leaving. After all, you encouraged him to go for it, to at least try so that he wouldn’t meet the same fate as most people who lived in the slums did. But you didn’t even get to say goodbye. No hug or anything. No time to tell him how you felt. The reality of that made your heart sink.

You weren’t able to leave bed for a few days but as soon as you felt better again you roamed the streets, looking for the familiar tufts of black hair. You trudged through the thick snow, checking all possible spots he could be in, but to no avail. He was gone. It was as if he never existed too - the only thing you had to remember him by was this note. You thought about him every day, hoped for his success in his endeavors, and a small part of you hoped he thought about you too.

When you became of age, you were approached with an offer from the Northland Bank. You’re completely baffled at first, and a bit scared. Mostly Fatui members worked there, and why would they approach a low-class citizen like yourself too?  But the offer was too tempting, the money calling your name and empty stomach more than ever. Your position was one of the lowest, simply making sure you had a perfect customer service smile as you directed customers where to go for their issues, but it paid damn well compared to the jobs in the slums. You worked hard and humbly, unaware your job was pulled behind the scenes by a… certain rising Fatui member.

A few years went by, and your position only went up. You weren’t really sure why when there were much more qualified Fatui workers than you but you gratefully accepted it. You had gotten used to the daily routine of greeting customers and helping them with their accounts. A while ago, you remember the bank being in a slight uproar over something.

“What’s all the commotion about?” you questioned. The bank was usually a quiet place.

“Northland Bank is now under the control of someone new! A new Harbinger has control of all the banks now!”

“Oh really? I didn’t expect that.”

“No, no, no - it’s not just that. You need to look at the picture of him. He’s jaw-dropping!!” your co-worker squealed as they shoved the newspaper into your face. You chuckled and dropped your eyes to the paper, but your smile immediately disappeared, and your face contorted into one of disbelief at who you saw. You snatched the paper out of their hands and practically pressed it to your face.

It couldn’t be. But the hair, the way his lips curved, the flutter of his eyelashes when he smiled. It was way too similar. You skimmed the article for more information. Pantalone, the new ninth Harbinger, was now the wealthiest among them… in charge of Snezhnaya’s economy and money supply… ambitious and promising.

You shakily put down the paper. The one in the papers was your childhood friend. So this was where he was all these years? Working for the Fatui? He’d been in the same nation the whole time and you didn’t know. But, that was a relief at the same time. At least he wasn’t somewhere far away.

“You looked like you’ve seen a ghost,” your co-worker chuckled. “Did his beauty stun you that much?”

You nervously chuckled and nodded in agreement, trying to organize your thoughts. Your childhood friend had achieved the dream he told you about so long ago. He didn’t just become rich, but a Harbinger at that, one of the most powerful positions in Snezhnaya and the world - he became Pantalone. And furthermore… he had grown up to be such a handsome, classy man. Your heart raced just thinking about him, as all the childhood memories rushed to your head. Did he remember you? No, no, that was countless years ago. He had the most luxurious life one could ever imagine. No way he would remember the random friend he made that long ago.

But that was okay, you thought as prepared to start working again. You were okay with burying these feelings again. You would be happy seeing him from afar, happy that he was living the life he deserved.

A year or two had passed since Pantalone was officially inducted as a Harbinger. Even though you decided you would be happy observing him from afar, it didn’t stop you from cutting out the articles of every newspaper Pantalone was in. You couldn’t help it - it had been so long. When the Harbingers were gathered in Snezhnaya, you’d brave the crowds and peer around for him. Some days you did not manage to see him. Your view was mostly obstructed by the cheering citizens, but one day, you were able to see him up close. It took your breath away. He was ethereal… You had to beeline it out of there before you started to get too emotional. The only thing you had yet to be aware of was that the ninth Harbinger himself saw you. Yes, he had always been keeping a close eye on you, staying his distance only for your safety. But that was soon to change.

It was another normal day at Northland Bank. The only noteworthy thing was that someone important was set to visit soon, so everyone was expected to be on their best behavior. It wasn’t anything new though - many people wanted to see the richest bank in Teyvat.

“[Name], could you go retrieve the documents of this client for me, please? Their name is…” your co-worker called. You nodded, after all, you had to return some files to the room as well. You got up, hands full, and headed to the room when your co-worker called for you again. 

You turned around to face her and kept walking backward, ready to listen to her request when suddenly her face turned very pale. It looked like she was mouthing something to you and making an ‘X’ with her arms. Of course, you were confused by this gesture, so you turned back around to see what was wrong. But your vision was blocked by a black wall, one that had bits of blue and silver embroidering it, and before you could stop your legs from moving, you walked smack right into it.

“Watch it, dear,” a pair of hands reached out to steady your shoulders. “Make sure to watch where you’re going, hm?”

Your heart felt like it was stuck in your throat. That sleek voice was all too familiar, and the feeling of the bands of bejeweled rings through the gloves was a tell-tale sign of who it was. The visitor to the bank today was the Ninth Harbinger, Pantalone, and no one told you.

“Such a hard worker, aren’t you? So diligent,” the voice purred, his arms moving from your shoulders to down your arms, smoothing out your clothing and releasing you. Should you look up? Would that be disrespectful? You should respond though, right?

“Yes,” you said meekly. “Yes, sir,” you quickly corrected yourself. A moment of silence passed, and you think he was expecting you to raise your head, but you kept your stare on his well-polished shoes, which probably cost more than everything you own.

“Excuse me then, sir,” you stated timidly, desperate to get out of the situation. Before Pantalone could say anything, you bowed your head even more and speedily walked away, making sure to lock yourself in the files cabinet room. If you could scream right now, you would, because what the hell just happened?!

Outside, Pantalone was left with his usual smile. But inside, he was truly pleased - he was finally able to touch you after countless years. Oh, but the way you didn’t even look at his face left him slightly wounded; he wanted to see your eyes tremble with emotion and see your soft lips up close. But he did not need to worry. He would be seeing much more of you after all. Walking out of the bank, he left everyone in shock.

You prayed that you would not have to go through something like that but nope. Every day, Pantalone would come into the bank with the excuse of inspecting and observing the premises. But you knew that was a damn lie because all you could feel while you were working was his gaze on you. He would not hesitate to come up behind you and watch you work, making you nervous and almost mess up, with his silky compliments going to your head. He smelled so good and his hair bounced with practically every step, his voice had deepened to a velvety smooth one. 

It was impossible for your childhood crush to not come creeping back up. The only problem was that you could not bring yourself to muster any conversation, so it was primarily Pantalone speaking. The only thing he managed to wring out of you was “Yes, sir” or “No, sir.” The most embarrassing part of this was that everyone in the bank knew what was going on. Yet the Harbinger did not seem to care. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it, as if he was sending out an undeniable message that said “They’re mine.”

Pantalone knew he had many admirers, people who lusted after him and his wealth. Yet the only one he had eyes were was you - the only person who had stayed with him since the miserable days of his childhood. He had been separated from you for so many years, building his reputation and wealth, slowly but surely, keeping you in mind as he worked tirelessly. Even when he became a Harbinger, he had to keep his distance and sort out any possible enemies. But now, he could finally have you all to himself.

Pantalone had caught you after your shift ended. As soon as you exited the bank, he was right there waiting for you, with that smile you deeply loved yet would not admit. You looked to the sides to see if there were any possible ways to escape, but he had trapped you.

“My dear [Name], why don’t we take a walk together? The weather is not too bad today.”

And that was how you found yourself in your current situation, walking side by side with your crush. Your throat felt dry as Pantalone spoke.

“You’ve been quite cold,” he feigned hurt. “It wounds me so that my dear childhood friend would forget me.”

You don’t know what came over you, but you immediately responded to that. “I didn’t forget. I could never forget you. I remember everything,” you blurted out swiftly. “I just,” you stopped walking and stared at the snow-covered path, thinking of what to say. Pantalone stopped walking too. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you, I do very much in fact, it’s just that I don’t really know how to act since you’re a fancy Harbinger now and I’m just me, a normal person. And I didn’t really know if you’d still wanna talk to me since you have way better people to interact with anyway, and plus-”

“[Name],” Pantalone interrupted you. “Look at me.”

Hesitantly, you dragged your eyes from the ground to his face. His smile was gone, and his expression was unreadable, but he spread his arms to the side and uttered two words. “Come here,” he beckoned. That was all you needed as you jumped into his arms, pressing your face against his chest. 

His hand stroked your hair and you melted into his touch instantly. “Darling, I can’t fathom how or why you would come to such a conclusion, but it’s quite the opposite. You are the only one who occupies my thoughts. The one who was the only light in my childhood. The one who saved me and helped me, expecting nothing in return.” His voice was soft as he held you tighter. “You are the only one I want.”

Your heart rate had increased significantly at his declaration of love. This was too much to process, so you opted to just squeeze your arms around him tighter. He got the message and allowed you time to take that in. Finally, you lifted your head up and peeked at his gorgeous face.

“Are you mad at me?” you said regretfully.

“I can assure you I could never be upset at anything you would do. That face is too adorable to be mad at,” he chuckled. You gritted your teeth. Why did he have to be so damn suave all the time?

His finger came to hook under your chin, making you raise your head more. His thumb playfully stroked your lips, wanting nothing more than to claim them as his.

“May I?”

You did not respond and instead jumped at the opportunity to surprise him, capturing his perfectly soft lips in yours. Clearly, he was not expecting that as his eyes widened, but he promptly bounced back by responding with more passion. And Archons, it was amazing. You didn’t really know what you were doing, but he took control flawlessly. He withdrew from the kiss, enjoying your breathless expression.

“I’m taking you home, to your new home,” he corrected himself. Smiling at your wide-eyed look, he pecked your lips again. “Surely you did not think,” he kissed you again, “that you would be away from me now? You’re going to live with me, of course.”

“I d-didn’t know we were just diving straight into- mhpm!” Your lips were not being spared from Pantalone’s greedy assault.

“I have had to deal with being away from you for years, not being able to feel you or talk to you, dealing with people who meant nothing to me. Do you know how painful that was?” Pantalone spoke genuinely and cupped your cheek. “I hope you do not plan to deny me, for I intend to spend as much time as possible with you starting now.”

You reached up and intertwined your fingers with his hand on your cheek. “Well… that sounds very good to me. I’ve missed you so much,” you agreed shyly, gazing into his loving eyes.

“Good,” Pantalone placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we, my love? Ah, and we’ll have to organize a new wardrobe for you, meals, products, assigned maids…” he continued to list off new items that you would have. (He promised the best for you, after all.)

You sweatdropped, slightly lost at his rambling. Did you really need all of that? But, you’d think about that later. You tugged at his arm, interrupting his mumblings.

“Come on, let’s go home, okay? I have a story I’ve been wanting you to read for me…”

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

It’s a running joke in the manor that Tim’s kid was like a cat

And he would never admit that he could kind of see it himself.

The climbing, the ability to go from zero to a hundred in energy, and unfortunate ability to be too cute to actually get mad at him for anything he does.

Finding said son running out and about when there was breakout was pushing through.

“Hi Dad!!”

“Danny! What are you doing out here?!it’s still lockdown chickadee!”

Danny looked down at the ground and scuffed one of his shoe against the pavement.

“I know… but you’ve been gone so long and I’ve been worried!”

Tim sighed and tapped his comm,

“Oracle, please keep lookout for the next couple minutes.”

And crouched down in front of his son,

“You haven’t been home in a while and I missed you..”

Tim sighed as he wiped a tear from Danny’s face.

It was almost unfortunate how much the kid took after him.

“Kiddo I’m sorry, that’s my fault, I know we haven’t been able to hang out for the past week-“

Danny stomped a foot in frustration,

“No you don’t understand! You forget to sleep when you don’t come home ‘n’ great grandpa Alffie said we got to sleep because it’s good for you ‘n’ that when you don’t you are more likely to get hurt! I don’t want you hurt!”

Tim wanted to argue, and say that he was fine. He’s been taking cat naps between searching and the fights. If it was anyone else in his family he would’ve done so.

But this was his son, his little chickadee who loves so much and worries about himself so little.

He needs to set an precedent before bad habits emerge.

Picking Danny up, Tim set him down onto his hip and stuck his chin on his head.

“You’re right, I guess I haven’t been being nice to myself like I’m supposed to. How about we go back home and I’ll lay down with you for a couple hours?”

Danny peered up with glassy eyes,

“Can you stay for breakfast?”

And didn’t that just hurt to hear? Faded memories of asking that same question only to be given this almost pitying look danced in the back his mind.

“Sorry kiddo, but we just don’t have enough time before our flight but don’t worry when we get back we’ll have a family day, just the three of us!”

Clearing his throat Tim met his son’s eyes.

“Sure champ, and when we finally get joker back in Arkham we can ask everyone to have a family day, how does that sound?”

Stars almost seemed to take over Danny’s eyes as he let out a little gasp.

“Really?!”

“I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yes, many of Danny’s mannerisms were reminiscent of a cat, but this was new.

Tim pinched his eyebrow in exasperation as he looked at his siblings.

He wished he never got up this morning.

“And how exactly did Danny somehow get a crowbar?”

The kid in question just happily swung his legs as he sat on the bench unaware that he himself was going to be getting a far longer conversation as soon as they got back to the manor.

“To be honest.. in hindsight, not my brightest moment.”

“WHY IN GODS NAME A CROWBAR?!”

“He said he needed something to help take care of the trash! I thought he would use it like a knapsack or something!”

Jason Thew his hands in the air, and Dick let out a snort while he nudged the mess of a clown next to him.

“Well he very much did use it for something.”

“Nightwing! I’m just as mad at you for somehow loosing the kid this badly to begin with!! You. Are. Not. Helping.”

“I know but I’m just saying, he gets his dramaticism from you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the end of the day, Joker ended up paralyzed from the neck down.

Jason and Dick were both no longer allowed to babysit Danny alone.

And one little munchkin was, though very much grounded, hailed a hero by all of Gotham for the actions that were live-streamed by onlookers.

And once he was no longer grounded, he did get his family day.

[lazycats-stuff]

(Kind of self projecting sorry lol) SO! BabyBat has an upset stomach but Bruce's too anxious about giving him medicine because can his baby stomach handle those chemicals? Insert Alfred rolling up his sleeves "give him here master Bruce" a tired Bruce just hands him over without question and watches as alfred and baby head to the kitchen and suddenly...baby stopped crying? Bruce walks into the kitchen seeing flower stems on the counter and Alfred standing there with a sleeping baby "...How?" "Rosewater master Bruce, i made and fed him Rosewater" Not sure how to end this but basically BabyBat would only drink Rosewater from now on and Bruce has to upgrade his gardening game ,Alfred always has already-made Rosewater so his Grandson is always hydrated and the rest of batbros are just like "hell yeah my brother's too fancy for regular water" I hope you except my request and thank u! I love u

Oh no, I hope you are doing better now. Either way, this is an Alfred thing to do. Thank you for the love too.❤️

Summary: Alfred knows what to do.

Warnings: Alfred knows what to do, Bruce is tired, boys love their brother, but they want peace, fluff all in all.

Taking care of a baby is difficult, even for Alfred. Bruce and him had joined forces for (Y/N). The boys have also agreed to help whenever they could. It was exhausting to take care of a little baby. Bruce and Alfred were sleep deprived at this point and the boys took care of their little brother while the two recovered slightly.

It felt nice to have a presence of a baby here, despite the chaos that a baby brings. (Y/N) was an easy baby as long there was a routine for him. Feed him on time, change his diaper regularly, put him down for a nap on time...

All of the basics essentially.

Oh, not to forget, (Y/N) was often held in someone's arms. Whether it be Damian's, Dick's, Jason's or Tim's, (Y/N) was happy to be in their arms. Bruce was (Y/N)'s favorite none the less. Who wouldn't love being held by their father?

But, it seems that (Y/N) had medical problems. Bruce took him to the pediatrician to see what's going on. It seems that it was (Y/N)'s stomach and Bruce got some medication for it, but he was worried. Bruce believed in medicine, don't get me wrong, but... Will (Y/N)'s poor tummy will be able to handle it?

Bruce has tried everything he could to soothe his son, his anxiety preventing him from giving him the meds. How can he know that the chemicals won't make it worst? Again, he believes in modern medicine, but his baby is...

He doesn't want to hurt his son more. Alfred and everyone else tried to help, but (Y/N) was just in too much pain to even think about calming down for a single second. Jason was sure that (Y/N)'s voice will be lost in a few more hours and Damian wanted to die.

Dick and Tim tried, but nothing worked. At all. Nothing. Tim was exhausted and Dick was going to snap soon. Very much soon. Damian and Titus were out of the manor for these couple of hours and Jason went to the Batcave.

Alfred, all of a sudden got an idea. Going to the garden, he got some roses and has decided to make some rosewater for (Y/N). He cleaned the flowers in the kitchen and then put the in a pot before submerging the petals underneath the water. He put it on low heat and let it simmer for now. He put a lid over it and sighed as he heard (Y/N) crying.

He waited and checked on the petals and smiled when he saw that the petals lost color. He turned the heat off and moved the pot away, allowing it to cool down completely. (Y/N) can't drink hot water. And it would be a nice alternative to the medicine that Bruce is so anxious about giving to (Y/N). The worry is understandable, babies are more fragile than toddlers and older kids so giving them harsh medicine is not a good idea.

Alfred turned on the radio and removed the lid from the pot. He could hear Bruce's voice trying to shush his son, but (Y/N) was still crying from the pain. Alfred waited patiently as he poured himself some whiskey.

Did he love his grandson more than life? Yes, but sometimes, alcohol was important to soothe the headache the crying might have caused. He slowly sipped his whiskey as he waited for the water to cool down. Jason and Damian came down to eat something and Alfred pointed at the leftovers in the fridge.

" What's in the pot Alfred? " Damian asked as the took a container of food to heat it up.

" You'll see soon. I'm just waiting for it to cool down. "

" Is it for (Y/N)? " Jason asked as he looked at the food in the fridge. " Please tell me it's for him.

" It is. " Alfred said and took another sip of his whiskey. Damian and Jason sighed in relief.

" Thank God. " Damian said as he started heating up his food. Jason smiled as he waited for his turn.

" What's in the pot though? " Jason asked as he peered over to look at the pot.

" Some rose water. It's great for the stomach. " Alfred explained and Jason nodded as he looked down to look at the water more intently.

" Since when do we have roses in the garden? " Jason asked as he started heating his own food up and Damian sat down and started eating his food.

" Since forever master Jason. " Alfred said as he finished his whiskey.

Jason nodded and took his food out of the microwave and started eating.

After 20 minutes, the water has cooled down and Jason and Damian have left the kitchen. Alfred rolled up his sleeves and went to the living room, with Bruce still soothing his son. Bruce was tired and Alfred was sure that Bruce's ears were going to start bleeding in a few minutes.

" Hand him over master Bruce. " Alfred said and Bruce gladly gave (Y/N) to Alfred and he just closed his eyes and relaxed, the sound of (Y/N) crying moving further away from him. He kept them closed until there was silence.

Why was there silence?

Bruce opened his eyes and went into the kitchen where he found Alfred, with a sleeping (Y/N) in his arms. How the hell was (Y/N) sleeping?

" Alfred? What did you do? " Bruce asked as he looked around. Why were on the counter stems... Were those rose stems? Alfred chuckled at the confusion that Bruce was exhibiting.

" Rosewater master Bruce. " Alfred said, giving him a very short answer.

Bruce was still confused and Alfred chuckled once more. " I fed him some rosewater. " Alfred explained and Bruce nodded. Whatever it was, it helped (Y/N) out and Bruce wasn't going to question it at all.

" Huh. Thank God for the rosewater I guess. "

" Yes, it's a more natural remedy. I know you were anxious about giving the medicine to master (Y/N), so I remembered this recipe. "

" Alfred, did I ever tell you that you are the most important member of the family? " Bruce asked as he walked closer to his beloved son, caressing his little cheek.

" All the time master Bruce. "

" Good. " Bruce said as he leaned down to kiss (Y/N)'s head and the little boy slowly reached for his father. Bruce took him into his arms and allowed him to rest in his arms.

Dick and Tim popped their hands in happy and relieved that their brother was not in pain anymore. And that he wasn't ruining their hearing anymore.

" Is he okay? " Tim asked quietly and Alfred nodded. Dick sighed in relief and put a hand over his heart.

" Thank God. It's nice to have a silent manor for once. " Dick joked and everyone chuckled. That much was true.

" Well, it's great that our brother is not in pain anymore. " Tim said and walked closer to his baby brother, just observing him.

" Thank you Alfred. " Dick said and Alfre laughed. Bruce rolled his eyes with a fond smile.

After the discovery of rose water, (Y/N) refused to drink anything else. Thankfully, Alfred started feeding him some solid foods so he wasn't going to be hungry. But it was funny the first time (Y/N) refused to drink anything that wasn't rosewater.

Bruce was confused, but Alfred already had batches of water prepared for his grandson. (Y/N) needs to be hydrated. Bruce sighed as he drank his coffee, looking at the garden outside. He needed to call a gardener to plant more roses in the garden...

He glanced back at his son who was happily drinking his water, with Alfred holding the bottle.

The four older brothers walked in for breakfast and they all laughed.

" (Y/N) is so fancy. " Tim said laughing as he made his way to the coffee pot and the cereal cabinet.

" More than you B. " Dick joked and Bruce rolled his eyes with a smile.

" Yes, (Y/N) is a true Wayne. All Waynes are fancy in their own right. " Damian confirmed and Bruce just kept smiling at the banter that was going on here.

" You do know that you have up your gardening skills, right old man? " Jason teased and laughed behind his coffee mug. (Y/N) really did bring everyone together.

" I'll call the gardener the moment I'm in office. " Bruce declared and everyone nodded and started eating in peace. This is a very nice and calm morning for their standards.

" Is it just me or (Y/N) brought us all together? " Jason asked and everyone paused for a moment.

" You are right. " Dick said first and everyone followed with either nods or soft murmurs of agreement.

Jason walked up to Alfred and (Y/N) who finished his bottle of rosewater and picked his brother up in his arms. " My little brother is so fancy. " Jason said as he rocked his little brother, who in turn was shrieking with laughter.

Everyone smiled even more. This morning is really nice. And (Y/N) is a glue that keeps this family close and together.

[excalibur-gone-missing]

Paring: jeonghan x you

Genre: fluff, 70's au, little to no angst

warnings: none, maybe a few swear words here and there

summary: jeonghan might be a cocky bastard but when it comes to you he will turn the world upside down, or so he claims.

words: 2k

a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask. Plus if you loved it enough don't forget to reblog, it will help me reach a larger audience.

a/n 2: i heard a podcast and it made me want to write this fic because the love story of the two hosts was sooo damn cutee.

You knew Jeonghan from when you were literally a kid.

His father had moved to your city after a presentation from little Jeonghan on how to make a pocketknife using ice cream sticks that he learnt from his local friends, his mother mortified that her little sweet child would grow up to become a goon forced his father to change cities to go as far away from the place they physically could.

It was during his fathers pursuit for a stable Korean community in Canada’s ever-growing cities did he come across the name of your grandfather’s in the phonebook that sounded very much similar to his. Your grandfather being the trusting and kind man he was invited his father for a dinner in his house the following day and this event kickstarted a relationship between the two families wherein, his father bought a house six minutes away from yours in the small part of your city inhabited by mostly Asians.

You both had met when he was seven and you were only three, he still remembers babysitting you when you were in middle school as your parents trusted no one more than him. So, when he broke the beautiful glass table in your living room, he had skillfully blamed you resulting in a three-hour long lecture from your parents about taking care of ones possessions.

You hated Jeonghan then, you really did, so you refused to talk to him for the next almost five years.

Until you both found yourselves in a duet dance opposite to each other because it was the neighborhood talent show and it was mandatory for the kids to participate. Typical Asian parents.

To no ones surprise your dance number got a tad bit too much hype from the watchers and it kickstarted another full year of you both not talking to each other at all because of the teasing glances and suggestive remarks from adults and children alike.

The time you both talked to each other again was when it was you senior year prom at high school and your father being the overprotective man he was, did not allow you to go because according to him ‘prom is how American kids end up getting pregnant.’

He was wrong of course; kids get pregnant due to having sex but you being the soft-spoken kid you were did not have the gal to inform him that. You would rather spend the night being sad and watching Simpsons and crying about how unfair it is for your parents to not let you go and experience the night considered to rank number one in peak American high school experience.

This was the first time you saw Jeonghan as your lord and savior, which you obviously will never tell him because it will do nothing but fuel his over-the-top ego. But that day he had stepped in and talked to you father.

“It’s an experience and everyone should be able to experience it, I think you are wrong sir to take away this from your daughter,” he had oh so righteously said.

“Son, I would let her only if you take her, as I don’t trust anyone but you with my daughter.”

“So, I shall then.”

Now did this conversation shock you? Yes, it did especially your father’s response to Jeonghan, but you were not going to stir up any feminist conversation with your father right now, not when you just got the pass to go to prom.

That night was something you barely remember; it has been twenty years since then and you barely care about the overly hyped kids and the future alcoholics that you encountered that night. Now that you are wise and older, you understand your parents concern. Suzy from you class had become a mother at the prime age of eighteen, nine months later. You are thankful that your father made the wise choice for you that day.

That night from what you remember was just plain boring, you had come back at 11 to a quite house, had talked to the boy for the entirety of the night, watched the sunrise with him and at the end had hugged him thanking him for taking you to prom.

After that incident, you both had again gone onto your own ways and had not talked to each other for another year till the next family function, where you both were the only kids of the same age present as all your other friends were out of the country for college.

That weekend had sparked a friendship between you both, as you always stuck to each other’s side seeking comfort from one another as talking to anyone else somehow always circled back to your marriage and their extreme concern for your depleting eggs.

The friendship you both wove lasted a long while, throughout your college. Till one day you come back from a trip to Daegu, and he was there standing at the airport ready to rush you away from your family to the nearest Starbucks because he had some news for you.

Once in the café he informed you that he had landed the job he had been trying for right after finishing college. You were elated for him, so happy that you almost forgot to tell him about the potential marriage partner your parents had whipped up during your two-week-long stay there.

Jeonghan being the man he was asked you up front to marry him, confessing his hidden feeling for you and how the weight of them might have just decreased his height. Dramatic bitch.

You being brough back to reality told him no and stated the reason to be man you could have potentially married. He obviously told you to say no to this unknown ‘son of a bitch’ and accept his proposal.

So being the bigger person, because Jeonghan obviously refused to, you reminded him that you had never dated anyone let alone him and you will not marry a man you have not dated.

This conversation then ignited your relationship the first step of which was turning down the said ‘son of a bitch’ while telling your father you wanted to focus on your career more, which you really did. Fast forward six months and while keeping up the long-distance relation with frequent phone calls late at night because your parents might pick up the landline and eavesdrop if its during the day, while at the same time trying to search for a job near Boston went on.

On one late Sunday afternoon as you were sitting on the kitchen island sipping on coffee you got an email from on of the companies, you had given an interview to, informing you had gotten an onsite job that would require you to move to Cambridge, and you were over the moon.

So, the preparations began for your send off and again Jeonghan stepped in like the messiah he is. He is absolutely not one, you refuse to accept. The man went ahead and told your conservative father he will give up his life to take care of you, till this date you claim it will be the opposite if a situation like that befalls you both. After packing your bags, you were on your merry way to live with the man.

It took you both some time to adjust to the new settings he would be over at your place during the weekends and sometimes you would be at his. This continued for another year or so before one night as you both were laying on the bed together when Jeonghan suddenly piped up.

“I think you should see other people.”

Not understanding what he meant you turned towards the guy and asked, “what do you mean?”

“I know we will end up marrying each other, so I want you to experience dating other men too, so you don’t get to ever claim I was the only guy in your life,” he explained to you.

You had yet to get a taste of exactly how much of a cocky motherfucker you are dating, said innocently.

“But Jeonghan you are the only guy I ever dated.”

That was the end of that conversation that night before you both went to sleep, but his urging never stopped. It went on for a few days till one day your exhausted and a tad bit insecure self, lashed out at him claiming he wanted to cheat on you, and he wanted a break. So, you gave one to him.

Five years later during your sister’s wedding in Singapore was when his proposal was finally accepted. You had just arrived at the airport and yet again the man had swooped in and taken you away from your family under the guise of some kind of sound check that was needed to be done in the wedding venue.

That entire year you had a flower bouquet delivered early morning to your house with an apology letter, although the apologies lasted only for a month before you forgave the terrified man, who apologized profusely after you accepted to talk to him. Even though you did feel a bit bad after seeing him, the guy looked like he was living during the great depression.

After that all was smooth sailing and he never ever tried to upset you at all, but his playful nature persisted anyways, not like you minded that.

Your clueless self agreed to go with him and without a second thought he took you to the cables to take you to an island that was nowhere close to the wedding venue. As you were getting increasingly confused, you kept asking him where exactly you both were going. He kept deflecting the topic, so you ultimately gave up and, as another family came up on the cable car, you started talking about your flight that you took with your family. The poor man did not hear one word, he was sweating bullocks and was essentially confused why another family was in the cable car that he had fully booked for you both.

As the family got down at the end, he stopped you from doing so too claiming it is not the stop, even though it was the last one. It was then the nervous wreck of a man got down on one knee in front of asking for your hand in marriage once again, and you being so in love with him accepted to spend the rest of your life with the man.

The rest of it was history, you both had to tell your parents none of whom were shocked at all, rather relieved that you both had at last agreed to get married and be together forever.

Now ten years later and with your two children, you are perfectly content with your life. Waking up with Jeonghan beside you everyday sounds like a dream and you are happy it came true for you.

As you tossed around the bed you saw Jeonghan eyeing you in his half-awake state.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

“Us,” you answer snuggling closer to him.

“What about us, huh?”

“The way you forced me to date some other guy because you wanted me to have more experience in dating,” you laughed at the memory.

“Don’t tell me about that it still haunts me till this day” he retorts with a shudder.

“Why did you do it anyways?” you ask.

“I knew I was going to marry you so I wanted you to have some more experience with dating others so whenever you have an argument I could say ‘hey remember that looser you dated!’”, he answers with laugh.

With a laugh you slapped his shoulder exclaiming, “I sometimes forget how cocky you can get!”

"How else do you think I got the permission to propose you in someone else's marriage!" he states sassily.

With that Jeonghan snuggles closer to you some more, its Sundays anyways the kids are with their grandparents and you both have all the time in the world to just bask in each other’s presence and not do anything at all.

[currentlylurking]

Thinking about... low stake Fenton Family headcanons. Those kind of things that have no wider world-context when it comes to fic ideas but really speak to their family dynamic.

Like, one of my favourites is that Danny doesn't avoid swearing because it's a kid's show from 2004; he avoids swearing because when he and Jazz were little, Maddie and Jack caught them repeating what what they'd heard from the lab. So they promised their children that if they could make it the next decade or so, until they got their drivers licenses, without swearing in front of them, Maddie and Jack would buy Jazz and Danny each their own car! They assumed the kids would forget before they had to follow through, but Jazz did not. And once she was sixteen, she traded the inability to swear for a car.

Danny can fly. He doesn't technically need to get his driver's license. But by this point he's committed, and won't swear at all - he doesn't want to risk slipping up in front of his parents, and losing his chance at a car!

Another one I really love is that up until he was about ten, Danny spent most of his time at the public pool. Maddie had him and Jazz in baby swim lessons, but Danny loved the water, so she kept him in it. And Danny was an amazing swimmer - he was incredibly fast and by the time he was seven, could dive well enough that there was barely a splash when he hit the water. Danny thrived in the water, and with some guidance, absolutely could have become an olympic level swimmer.

Unfortunately, when he was 10 or so, he mentioned to his parents that the chlorine in the pool hurt his eyes so Jack tried to replace the pool filter with an ecto-based one, which went very badly. And the family was banned from the public pool. They set up a blow-up pool in the backyard for Danny during the summer, but it wasn't the same.

Fortunately, he turned 14 and gained the ability to fly, so he doesn't miss it too much anymore, but Jack does still feel bad.

And of course, the last quality one - none of the Fenton family can cook. Maddie and Jack can bake extremely well, but baking and cooking are different. They like the experiment too much with their cooking, and even without ectoplasm, it usually leaves their food inedible. Jazz can make simple things, like macaroni, but whenever she's tried something more complicated it hasn't gone to plan. She's too much of a perfectionist to risk that.

Danny, meanwhile, has burned soup before and will burn it again. But he's still eaten it. Sam and Tucker have joked about how Danny's tastebuds must've died in the portal too, because there's no way a normal person would eat the kind of things he does, but he's always been like that! He's far too ready to eat almost anything.

It was particularly stressful for his family when Danny was a baby, because it seemed like for the first four years of his life, his sole goal was to eat every single battery he could find.

[sagesskies]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴘɪʀɪᴛ

✒ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴀʀᴛ

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇʀᴇʟʏ ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴢᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇʟᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ᴏꜰ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴠɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ ɢᴏᴅ, ʜᴇ ᴀꜱꜱᴜʀᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ɴᴇᴀʀʟʏ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜᴇᴅ. ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ.

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ʜᴏᴍᴏᴘʜᴏʙɪᴀ, ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ [ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ɪꜱ ʜɪꜱ ʙᴇᴀʀᴅ], ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴏᴋɪɴɢ, ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴇɴᴀɴɪɢᴀɴꜱ, ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍɪʟᴅ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴅᴜʙᴄᴏɴ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ!

Yandere Spirit who was your secret boyfriend in high school. A forbidden romance between two youths, who often got to keep their secret because it’d always be excused as just ‘Boys being boys’. He was the most popular boy in school, his older brother was just as popular, but he was even more so. 

Yandere Spirit who was good looking, kind hearted, intelligent, and athletically talented as well. You never knew how you were able to get with a guy like him, you were simply another guy on the track team, and he was not only the team’s star but also the captain. 

Yandere Spirit who was possessive of you, even in life. He’d always claim you as his partner for group projects, even if there were smarter kids in class, and whenever there was an opportunity he'd always insist you wear his track jacket that had his last name on the back. 

Yandere Spirit who still dated other girls, and you tried not to mind so much. They were just a cover, he told you that and you knew it to be true, both of you were aware of what happened to gay boys in this town. He understood more than you, because his older brother Tommy was one of them, and he ran away when he was seventeen. 

Yandere Spirit who remains oblivious to how much his behavior with his girlfriends bother you. You never liked how he was always so physically intimate with them. Yeah, it'd be expected of a couple but did he have to do it so much? God, you can't bear to watch this.

Yandere Spirit who always notices how you distance yourself from him whenever he has a new girlfriend, and one day confronts you about it.

“Cmoon, [Name], why won't you just tell me!” Raphael practically whines, he refused to let go of your hand. You were both part of the track and field team but with his strength you'd argue he could be a football player. 

When you still didn't reply, he huffs, looks around to see if anybody else was around, then pulls you in close, perching his head on top of yours despite your protests. 

“Please babe?” God you never liked it when he called you babe, but you let him anyway, “Tell me what's bothering you…” He sounds like he's near to tears but you keep your lips shut.

“Raph, seriously I'm fine,” You insist, even though you're really not. 

The whole day, you had to hang around Raphael and his new girlfriend. It wasn't so bad, Raph made sure that you were included in the conversation and his girl, Cheryl you think her name was, was actually very nice. 

Your problem with the situation was seeing your boyfriend being all sweet and cuddly with his new beard the same way he always was with you. Well, there was the fact that he was technically cheating on you- But that's not the big issue here! 

Unfortunately for you, you shared a good quarter of your classes with the two lovebirds, and eventually you just distanced yourself from them till you were able to handle the sight of the two of them together. 

Even more unfortunately, was Raph's clinginess to you. When he saw you start to drift away, he immediately pulled you back in and when you decided to just ignore them as best as possible without looking rude, he caught on to that too. 

“Ugh, I know you're lying [Name],” Raphael pouted, “Come on, remember how we promised each other no secrets between us? Don't tell me you forgot!” 

You rolled your eyes, “Anybody would forget Raph, you made me say it in the 2nd grade.” 

“Still!” He protested, “Just tell me already [Name].” You could feel his grip get tighter around you, he was getting impatient. 

“Was it something I did?” Yes. 

“Does it have to do with Cheryl?” Yes. 

“Oh come on, don't tell me you're jealous of her!” It was Raph’s turn to roll his eyes, “Babe you know I'm only using her as a cover.” 

You glared at him, “Doesn't mean you have to be so touchy with her.” 

“She's my new girlfriend,” He used air quotes when he said the word girlfriend, “Gonna have to act like I’m head over heels for her to sell the act.” 

You knew he was right, he was saying the exact same things you told yourself whenever you tried to stop the ugly green monster that was envy from rearing its head. 

“Besides, don’t you think you kinda deserve it?” 

Your eyes widen, and you frown, “What? What do you mean?” Raphael shrugged, “I mean, you’re always tusslin’ and getting all up close with the other guys in the team,” His voice had a bitter edge to it, “I’m your boyfriend,” His hold on you strengthened, “It’s like I’m forced to watch you feel up all these other guys when the only ass you should be groping is mine.” 

“Do you hear how silly you sound right now?” You deadpanned, “It’s just guys being guys, most of us have been wrestling each other since we were kids.” 

He groans, “Ugh, but that doesn’t change that they still get to touch you so much!” 

You sigh, perhaps you and him weren’t so different after all. Not when both of you were so petty as to get jealous because of just, a really plain stupid reason. 

So you pat him on the back, and comfort him like you would a child throwing a tantrum. Till he stops whining, and you apologize to each other, then you continue to pretend that it doesn’t bother you when he presses a kiss to a girl’s lips, when he holds her hand, or even plays with her hair. 

And you pretend like he’s not playing with your heart. 

Yandere Spirit who you watch as he competes with his brother Gabriel over your younger sister, a popular junior who was vice-captain of the cheerleading team. Sometimes when he kisses you, you can’t help but think that this is the same tongue that flirts with your sister. 

Yandere Spirit who you accompany when his brother tells him to meet in the woods near Varenway cliff. Sure he was told to go alone, but you never trusted Gabe, he was always too intense for your liking. It was why he’d never be as popular as his brother. 

Yandere Spirit who you can only watch as he gets into a fight with his brother, held back by the stronger arms of Gabe’s football teammates who tease and mock you all while assuring Gabe won’t hurt Raphael too badly.

You thrash in their grip like a wild animal refusing to be caged, you kick at their feet, try to slam your head back into their stupid faces, but regardless of your attempts you are still stuck. 

“Let go of me, you assholes!” You practically spit. 

One of them, your classmate Sam Moss, sneers at you, then turns to his friend, who you recognize as Luke Herring, “Should we let [Name] go Luke?” 

Luke lets out a dumb laugh, “Huhuhu, naahh,” His tone is calm like an afternoon breeze, but his eyes are filled with only malice, “I don’t think we should Sam.” 

You click your tongue and tune out the rest of their words, they think they’re so intimidating just because they hang around Gabe, who nobody dares to pick a fight with, but they’re nothing more but tiny little pups who think the wolf’s shadow is their own. 

Instead you focus your gaze onto Raphael, who moves quicker than Gabe, but whenever a hit is able to land, it lands hard. Your heart clenches when you see the newly forming bruise above Raph’s brow, his busted lip, but you force yourself to remain silent. Raph can handle himself, and you hated to admit to it but Sam and Luke were right, Gabe may be dumb but he wasn’t that dumb to let Raph get seriously hurt. 

But still, for every hit that Raph gets in, Gabe lands another solid punch. Raph’s blood stains Gabe’s fists, and his beautiful face is marred. Gabe himself does not even need to catch his breath, the only evidence of exhaustion is a light sheen of sweat. 

You feel a sharp tug on your head, and you wince, Luke grabs your hair and has a look of anger on his face. 

“Little shit, fuckin’ pay attention to us damnit!” His spit flies in your face, and you grimace, “Should fuckin’ teach you a lesson for such disrespect.” 

Sam cackles like a hyena, “Ha! I don’t think Gabe would mind us roughin’ this arrogant prick up a bit,” In his eyes there is a hunger for violence, and you suppress the urge to shiver, you get what your mother means now when she says that men are like animals. You’ve never felt more like prey before now. 

You try to ignore them, and the fear that slowly builds in your chest, to get one last glimpse at Raph. But all you see is his head hanging low, and being grabbed by Gabe, whose bruised hands are curled tightly around his collar, before you are thrown down into the floor, and Luke gets on top of you. 

His sleeves are pulled back, and he draws back his fist for a punch, but before he can Sam who is still watching the fight, gasps, and Luke turns to see what has happened. Their eyes widen, but all you can hear that tells you of what just happened is a distant sickening crunch. 

Luke gets off of you and both he and Sam run to Gabe, who is looking down the cliff. Where is Raph? 

You get up, legs shaky for a bit before you steel your resolve and steady, you voice your thoughts, “Where's Raph?” 

When you get no response, the fear that was building from the fear of Luke getting his meaty hands on you is now growing from the possibility that Gabe let his anger get the best of him. At the thought of it, it is not only fear budding within you, but also anger. 

You march over to Gabe, and with strength you didn’t have before you grab him by the back of his collar and turn him around so you and him were now eye-to-eye, “Did you push him off, Gabriel?” Your voice is shaky, from fury, from anxiety, from both, you do not know. When you receive no response, you grit your teeth, and shake him violently, “Answer me, you bastard!” 

Gabriel’s eyes go wide, and his mouth parts but there are no words that leave his lips. But then he nods, and your sudden burst of strength fizzles away, and your hands let go of him. You walk, one step backward, another, and then another, and you fall on your own bottom, and your hands go to your head. Raph loved to do the same thing, hand going to the top of your head and holding it gently, sometimes just laying there together, his hand on your head and both of you quiet together.

You cannot let them see your tears, you cannot. But the dam breaks, and you start to sob. 

You hear them speak, Gabe, Sam, and Luke. However, you don’t want to listen to them. They killed him. Sam and Luke had less blood on their hands, but they were the ones who restrained you. If they didn’t then- Then maybe you could- You could… You don’t know. You don’t know, you don’t know. 

Gabe is standing in front of you, arms crossed, “Get up, [L/N],” His voice was gruff, nothing like Raph’s who always sounded like he was singing or speaking poetry, “Unless you want to end up like Raph did, you’ll do as I say.” Gabe was cruel too, nothing like Raph. 

Hesitantly, you get up, and wipe away the tears on your face. Sam and Luke who were looking at you like you were no better than the dirt on their shoe, now look at you with slight pity. It was no secret in school that you and Raphael were the best of friends, but they wouldn’t be looking at you so if they knew what you two were really like. 

You go down the cliff with them, traversing through the steep and rocky terrain. Till you arrived at the bottom, where Raph’s body lay. The blood had stopped flowing by then, or perhaps there was simply too much to look like there was more accumulating. Luke covers the bottom half of his face, Sam turns his head away, and only you and Gabe can look at the corpse. 

You glance at him, his face is like stone. You wonder if he regrets what he’s done tonight over your sister, but you can’t bring yourself to ask him without feeling like bile was going to start creeping up your throat. 

You help them carry the body deeper into the woods, Luke and Sam go to get the shovel Sam’s dad always kept in the back of his truck, and you are left with the boy who killed your lover. 

Both of you are silent, and your eyes go to look at his bruised knuckles stained with Raph’s blood. You must’ve been staring because he glares at you, “What? You wanna join Raph in his grave?” 

You know you should stay silent, but you’ve had enough of that. 

“It’d be better than having to bury him, that’s for sure,” You snarl out, you want to sock him across the face, but you’d have less impact than Raphael did, “You’re a monster.” 

“He got what was coming to him,” Gabriel clenched his fists, “If it wouldn’t be me, it may have been you.” 

You flinch, “The hell are you talking about Gabe?” You? Kill Raph? If that was meant to be a joke it wasn’t very funny. But Gabe had the same amount of charm as a donkey’s ass so it probably shouldn’t have surprised you.

“You think I’m blind, [L/N]?” A smirk forms on his face, it looks like Raphael's but at the same time it couldn’t be more different, “Everybody’s seen how you look at him and his girlfriends.” 

Your heart raced, did- Did he know? Did everybody know? If so, why weren’t you getting picked on? Raphael may have been the most popular guy in school, but even he would get harassed by some jerk. 

“You don’t get to chastise me for shit like this when you’re jealous of all the girls he gets,” At first you’re surprised he knows the word chastise, but when he accuses you of that, you laugh. You laugh like you would at a joke Raphael made, and when you realize that you start to cry. 

Gabe looks like he’s going to make fun of you, but thinks better of it when he sees the tears racing down your face and makes an expression of discomfort. 

Sam and Luke return, and by that time you’ve dried your tears. Gabe and Luke, the stronger ones, start to dig the grave, and Sam lights a cigarette. He hesitates, and then offers you one, a peace offering of sorts. 

You take it, even if you’ve never smoked before, and you cough as the smoke fills your lungs. 

“Sorry about Raphael,” He says, there is no cruelty, there is no mockery, only remorse for the blood that has been spilled, “Didn’t know him much, but I knew you two were close.” 

You take another puff, and you cough less this time, “It shouldn’t be you who’s apologizing,” You glare at Gabriel, who is digging his own twin brother’s grave. Sam follows your gaze, and he purses his lips, but then he nods.

You crush the cigarette under your shoe, and go to Raphael’s cold corpse. Your eyes scan over him, his eyes are open, the once vibrant green now hollow and empty. You close his eyes. Before you stand back up, you see a familiar glint of steel. The necklace he told you was gifted by his mother.

You take it off his neck, the cross dangling at the end gleaming even in the dark, then place it in your pocket.

Eventually Gabriel and Luke finish up, and you and Sam pick up Raphael’s body and then settle him gently into the grave. 

You take one last look at his face, burning it into your mind. He is beautiful even when his face is bloody and bruised. You want to weep again, your tears would wash away the filth from his face, but they would not bring him back. 

Yandere Spirit who invades your dreams every single night. He holds you close and what was once a warm embrace, is now a cold and stiff cage. Even if it is a dream you can smell the iron from the blood on his skin, and the earthy odor of the soil he was buried in. 

Yandere Spirit whose search you volunteer for. Even if it is only to avoid suspicion. You’re paired with Gabe and his younger brother Amos Jr., and the silence is filled with Junior’s ceaseless chatter. You pity the young boy, who shouldn’t have to search for his brother who he doesn’t even know is dead. 

When you go near the spot you buried Raph, your gaze immediately meets Gabe’s and a silent agreement goes between you two. Do not let Junior find the grave. 

But despite your best efforts, the boy does, and you can only watch while Gabe threatens him to keep his mouth shut. You're sick, and you haven’t eaten anything all day. You tell Gabe and Junior to go ahead, and then puke your guts out near Raph’s grave. 

You hold on to a tree, and sob. The taste of vomit, still on your tongue. The wind blows through your hair, it feels like Raph’s gentle caress. You swear you even hear his voice, whispering to you that it's all going to be okay, that he’ll make things better, that Gabe would pay for what he’s done. 

Time passes by. You attend Raphael’s funeral. You study, and go to your classes. You run, run faster than you’ve ever ran. You run faster than even Raph, who you’ve replaced as the track team captain. You wear his necklace every day, and you’d never take it off if you could help it. 

Sometimes you swear you hear him, whispering into your ear. Every night you feel like he’s holding you as well, but his touch is cold, yet it still brings you comfort after every nightmare where his bloody corpse stares at you from the shallow grave Gabe made for him. 

You start to isolate yourself, especially when the comforting touches become rough and possessive when you spend too much time with anybody else. You make small talk with your classmate? Ghostly fingers dig their nails into your skin. You roughhouse with your friends? Cold arms wrap themselves around your waist so tight you feel like it’s getting crushed. You get hit on by a girl? Suddenly she’s got a cold look in her eyes and leaves mid sentence. 

When you graduate, you don’t attend any parties, and you’re not invited to many other than the ones hosted by your track teammates. Gabe invites you to one, surprisingly, but when Raph wraps himself possessively around you, you know you’re not leaving the house tonight.

You don’t sleep that night either, not when Raph’s hands grope your bare flesh, sensitive against his cool touch. You swear you can see him, blood still staining his skin, his eyes are vacant but at the same time hazy with lust. He whimpers, and whines, panting into your ear.

  “Feels good.”

  “Nngh, sooo warm.” 

 “Need you, need you, need you.”

 “Love you, love you ‘s much.”

 “Never letting you go, n- ha.. not even death can separate us.” 

You feel dirty, like you’re being used. But you let him continue, you deserve this. Don’t you? You didn’t help him. You were too weak to help him. If only you were stronger, maybe it wouldn’t be his ghost on top of you right now but it’d be him in the flesh. Body just as warm as yours, a beautiful red flush on his sun kissed skin. You’d trace over every freckle, every small childhood scar, and hold him close to you till the sun rose.

But instead, your only company is the freezing form of Raph’s specter as he desperately clings to the comfort of your warmth, to feel alive again. And he’s never leaving you. 

“...You’re mine, mine, [Name],” His frigid whispers send a shiver down your spine, “You are mine even in death.”

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.