#really tried to be his friend when he was young

[misshoneyimhome]

「5️⃣0️⃣0️⃣ FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION」

“So you think my legs are just going to magically spread open for you?" I Andrei Svechnikov 🌺 5️⃣0️⃣0️⃣

Summary; Andrei is keen on asking you out, but considering the typical traits of famous hockey players, you've made a mental note never to be swept off your feet by any of them.

Tropes & warnings; No warnings; reader's working for the Carolina Hurricanes; sort of friends-to-lovers; just fluff really

Other notes; Alrighty babes, so next up for the 500 followers celebration we've got none other than #37 Andrei S. 💓 Truth be told, I wanted to do something like an enemies-to-lovers thing, but I just couldn't with this sweetheart 😉 Still, I hope you like it

Word count; 1.9K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny@justwanderingbutneverlost @cixrosie

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Another night. Another home game. Another round of work.

You had been working with the Carolina Hurricanes for a few years, and even though you were just an assistant helping with game preparations and clean-up, you felt like nothing less than a part of the hockey family. The players were always friendly, treating you like one of their own, and you simply enjoyed the camaraderie, the playful teasing, and the way they appreciated your hard work.

Some players had even grown closer to you than others, and one in particular stood out: Andrei Svechnikov. It wasn't just his skills on the ice but also how he seemed genuinely interested in you.

From the moment Andrei had seen your sweet smile, he’d been captivated. He admired how you handled your tasks with efficiency and grace, always ready with a kind word or a quick joke. And over time, his crush only grew stronger, yet he didn’t know how to make a move. So he just watched you from the corner of his eye, noticing all the little things: the way you bit your lip when you were focused, the way you laughed with your whole body, and the way your eyes sparkled when you were amused. All these small details only intensified his feelings.

And while not entirely knowing how to handle his own feelings, he, like many young guys on the team, resorted to occasional flirting, trying to get your attention without coming on too strong. He’d make sure to catch your eye during practice, offering a wink or a smile, and he’d find excuses to talk to you, asking for your help with something trivial just to hear your voice. Sometimes, he’d even leave small gifts in your work area – a protein bar, a coffee, a note with a silly drawing – always signed with a simple "A."

You, however, weren’t easily impressed. You knew the reputation hockey players had and had no intention of becoming another story in their dating history. You’d heard the tales of their exploits and the endless parade of girls vying for their attention, and you simply didn’t need to be another notch on anyone’s bedpost, least of all a professional athlete’s. Besides, you liked your job and didn’t want to complicate things with a messy romance.

Yet, despite your resolve, there was something about Andrei that intrigued you. Maybe it was the way he seemed genuinely kind and respectful, never pushing boundaries. Or perhaps it was how he listened when you talked, giving you his full attention as if you were the only person in the room. There were even moments when you caught yourself watching him, appreciating the way he moved, the determination in his eyes, the easy grace with which he handled himself both on and off the ice.

But  sill, you kept your guard up, distancing yourself with playful banter and cheeky remarks. Whenever he tried to flirt, you’d respond with a teasing comment, deflecting his advances with a laugh, as it was just easier that way, safer. You didn’t want to risk getting hurt, and you certainly didn’t want to become just another girl on his life.

Andrei, on the other hand, was determined to show you he wasn’t like the rest. He was so much more, and his feelings for you meant something to him. He respected your boundaries, never pushing too hard, and always making sure you were comfortable. His patience was unwavering, and his interest in you was steadfast, so he wanted to prove that he was different and that he cared for you in a way that went beyond superficial attraction.

And the challenge only made him more determined, as he found himself thinking about you more and more. How could he show you that he was serious, that he was genuinely interested in who you were, not just what you looked like? It was a question that kept him up at night, but one he was determined to answer. So, he continued his quiet pursuit, hoping that one day, you’d see him for who he truly was.

However, your defence mechanism didn’t make it easier for him. Your playful banter and cheeky remarks were a strategy that allowed you to maintain a comfortable distance. So when Andrei commented your work, it only made it more difficult for him to get past your walls. Every time he approached you with a compliment, you’d respond with a teasing, “Careful, Svechnikov, flattery may help with ladies out there, but in here, it will get you nowhere.” Even if he simply asked about your day, you’d throw in a cheeky, “Why, planning to steal my job?”

It wasn’t easy for Andrei to make a proper move on you, but as time went on, he kept his hopes high. He even practised a few English phrases that might help when the day finally came for him to ask you out.

And fortunately, that day wasn’t too far away.

_

One evening, as you were packing up equipment after a game, Andrei lingered nearby, as he’d often done before. The locker room was mostly empty, with the other players having already left or showered, and that’s when he gathered the courage to approach you, his usual confidence mingling with a hint of nervousness.

"Hey, need any help with that?" he offered, his accent colouring his words charmingly.

You looked up, slightly surprised that he hadn’t left like everyone else. "Oh, Andrei, you don’t have to do that. I’m almost done anyway." You flashed him a soft smile.

He couldn’t help but smile in return, leaning against the doorway. "I don’t mind. Besides, I wanted to talk to you."

And that made you raise an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. "Oh? What about?"

Andrei hesitated for a moment before gently stepping closer to you, leaving only about a metre and a half between you. "I was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime. Just us. Maybe dinner?"

You chuckled, shaking your head slightly. "Why?"

It wasn’t an immediate no, he thought to himself, though he felt a slight disappointment when you questioned his intentions.

"So we could spend some time alone together," he emphasised, trying to flash a confident smirk, hiding any hints of nervousness.

However, that only made you think one thing.

"What... is this a bet or something? You ask me out on a date, and you think my legs are just going to magically spread open for you?" You grinned slightly, convinced that the other boys had set him up to it or something.

Andrei's face immediately turned bright red, clearly taken aback by your bluntness. "No, no! That’s not what I meant at all. I just... I really like you y/n, and I want to get to know you better. I’m not like what people say about hockey players. I promise."

You studied his face for a moment, trying to see any hints of falseness or sincerity in his eyes. And so, for a moment, you let your guard down, sensing he might actually be different. "Hmm… Alright, Andrei. One dinner. But if you try anything, you’ll be back to carrying your own gear. Got it?"

He couldn’t help but smile, a sense of relief washing over him. "Got it. I’ll be on my best behaviour."

And as you finished packing up, Andrei helped, and the two of you exchanged playful banter. Maybe, just maybe, he was worth giving a chance.

---

The next day, you found yourself thinking about the upcoming dinner more than you’d like to admit. You replayed the conversation in your mind: the way his eyes lit up when you agreed, the genuine relief in his smile. And it was enough to make you wonder if perhaps you had been too quick to judge him.

And when the evening finally arrived, Andrei gallantly picked you up, looking more nervous than you had ever seen him.

“Wow, you look… krasivaya…” he muttered under his breath as his English failed him.

“Thanks,” you smiled softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you felt your cheeks blush slightly at his compliment. “You look quite good yourself.”

Standing there in the outfit you’d chosen for the night, it seemed that everything was suddenly changing, feeling more soft and romantic compared to the friendly banter you’d been playing at for months, if not years. Similarly, Andrei had chosen to dress up, trading his usual team gear for a smart, casual outfit that suited him well. 

And aware of your fondness for casual dinners, the restaurant he had chosen was a cosy Italian place, far from the glitzy spots the players usually frequented. It was intimate, with soft lighting and a warm atmosphere that quickly put you both at ease.

Throughout the evening, you found yourself enjoying his company more than you expected. The conversation flowed easily, and you discovered sides of Andrei you hadn’t seen before. And as the night went on, you realised that maybe, just maybe, you had been too quick to judge. Andrei was different from the image you had of a typical hockey player, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope that this could actually be the start of something special.

Throughout dinner, he was nothing but attentive, asking questions and genuinely listening to your answers. He shared stories from his childhood in Russia, his journey to the NHL, and the challenges he faced along the way. In turn, you found yourself opening up more than you expected, sharing your own dreams and fears. 

So when the evening slowly drew to a close, Andrei naturally walked you back to your place. And as often happens in situations like this, there was a moment of hesitation at your door, both of you lingering, not quite ready to say goodbye.

“I had a really good time tonight,” you admitted, surprising yourself with the honesty in your voice. Your eyes were locked on his, a new form of intimacy connecting you both as you’d enjoyed the evening more than you’d expected, just the two of you and away from hockey.

“So did I,” Andrei replied, his eyes softening as he looked at you. He couldn’t help but feel the intensity of the pull he felt towards you, yet he also reminded himself to be patient and, as he’d promised, be on his best behaviour. So, he restrained himself, settling to only imagine what it’d feel like having your lips against his. Instead, he took a deep breath before continuing, “I meant what I said, you know. I like you and want to get to know you better. I’m not like what people say about hockey players—at least, I try not to be.”

You couldn’t suppress a timid smile, feeling a warmth spread through you. “I’m starting to believe that.”

It was the truth. The evening with Andrei had been nothing short of amazing, and the more you got to know him, the more you started to trust his intentions. And just like that, as if drawn by a magnetic pull, you slowly and very gently leaned in towards him, closing the small gap between you as you let your lips delicately touch his.

It was brief, almost innocent, as you shared this sweet, intimate moment. And as you then slowly pulled back, you couldn’t help but bite your lip, mentally hoping that next time, he wouldn’t be on his best behaviour.

[iknowicanbutwhy]

Puyo/Madou, meet ISAT. ISAT, meet Puyo/Madou. I'm sure you have everything in common and this is not at all a completely random crossover of my two current interests

[getousatoruu]

JJK CHAPTER 261 AND MY THOUGHTS:

Soooooo this chapter was not for everyone lmao but if you ask me personally I am enjoying the direction in which the story is finally moving..261 has so many themes that just hit so hard bro, but I would be breaking them down into just 3 parts (because I would yap for another 3k words otherwise):

1. Breaking the cycle (remains unbroken):

Let’s start with the first person who tried to break the cycle: Toji. Toji, a man blessed with no cursed energy, born in a clan that probably abused him for that fact, tried to break the cycle of curse energy = strength mentality by killing Gojo even when he didn’t have to, he did not have to kill Gojo at all his mission was over, money was paid, he could have left he could have run but no he fights because he wants to prove to the world, to himself, and to the zenin clan that hated his very existence that “look a monkey like me with no cursed energy can take down the pinnacle of jujutsu look”…and we all know how it ends and the cycle continues with the zenin clan still being obsessed with the 10 shadows and Maki (and Mai) being treated like shit.

The second person who tried to break the cycle was: Geto. Geto realized after a failed mission, how little value a sorcerer’s life has in the eyes of a non-sorcerer even when those sorcerers dedicate their entire lives to saving them. He envisioned a world without curses where his fellow companions wouldn’t have to sacrifice their lives to save lives of people that don’t give two fucks about them. He realised how fucked up the jujutsu society really is, how fucked up the higher ups are and how they have no qualms about sending young sorcerers to their deaths. He also starts struggling with the ugliness of humanity and non-sorcerers and their ignorance. And so he tried to change that, he tried to make the world a better place for his friends and fellow sorcerers but he lost his ideals, his mortality and his humanity following the path he chose and in the end lost to a person who was soooo similar to him, who just wanted to save his friends too and prove to himself he deserved to live. And so the cycle continues with the higher ups using and abusing the young sorcerers, and the ones in power not giving a shit about what happens as long as they are comfortable (putting a kill order on Yuuji, making binding vow with Yuuta to kill Yuuji, suspending Hakari and Kirara, killing Yaga, etc).

The third person who tries to break the cycle is: Gojo. Gojo who saw his best friend leave him behind, not just physically but in terms of ideology, who saw his best friend become a monster in order to create a world where his friends and companions can live to their fullest and laugh from the bottom of their hearts, follow an idea so insane that even he couldn’t make sense of, he couldn’t catch up to him, couldn’t catch up to his ideas…so what does he do, he becomes a teacher. He guides young minds and fosters strong people that can overturn the way jjk society works and creates a group of people so strong that they can never be left behind, that will never feel what he felt. But all this crumbs when he comes back after his sealing, Gojo knows he still doesn’t possess the power to change the society the way he wants and if he is gone there is a vacuum in the jjk society that the higher ups can easily use to exploit…and so he kills them, kills them so that the Shibuya incident aftermath (read: Yuuji almost dying, Yaga being dead, Gojo getting framed as a traitor) can not be created again looping back to Geto’s departure and the way he killed an entire village (and for me personally it even loops back to when Gojo expressed his desire to kill the cult members clapping for Riko’s death).

2. Exploitation of the strongest:

Nanami, Higuruma, Junpei all of them are few examples that show themes of exploitation in jjk but there is this cycle of exploitation of the strongest that literally just…it’s too delicious okay:

Geto and Kenjaku - Every single Kenjaku victim deserves their own exploitation post but Geto was probably one of his best hosts since firstly, Geto was a special grade sorcerer and in Kenjaku’s own words “Special Grade rank signifies the ability to single-handedly overthrow nations, that obviously true for Gojo Satoru but Suguru Geto can also wield a Grotesque army through his cursed manipulation (ch. 203)”, and secondly his curse technique can literally allow him to claim any unclaimed curse which is just bonkers. But not only that, oh no no no the ultimate trump card that Kenjaku uses Geto for was to exploit Gojo emotionally. He made a six eyes user doubt his own technique and the funny part is: he was right. Gojo’s six eyes told him that it was Geto Suguru but his soul, HIS SOUL knew otherwise. And that emotional trump card was bigger than what any other host could provide.

Megumi and Sukuna- From the very start of his show, we have seen Sukuna obsess about Megumi and his curse technique. He has even admitted that Megumi, as he grows stronger, can literally defeat him and kill him. For more than 200 chapters we have seen Sukuna devise a plan to make Megumi as his vessel, so that he can get the 10 shadows/Mahoraga. He even exploits Megumi’s curse technique after the body possession to kill off Megumi’s sister and totally submerge his soul into the abyss.

Gojo and Yuuta- The chapter was so good that we looped back to the themes of exploiting the strongest but only this time not one, BUT TWO STRONGEST SORCERERS getting exploited at the same time. On one hand we have Gojo Satoru, who has always been seen as a weapon since the day he was born, been used as a tool by the higher ups, been used and seen as nothing but strength incarnate till the day he took his last breath and getting his body used as a tool again even after his death. He even got emotionally exploited by Kenjaku and his mind games during Shibuya. On the other hand we have Okkotsu Yuta, a kid who didn’t even know he comes from a great dynasty of Jujutsu sorcerers until he accidentally cursed his friend, who meets a guy that saved his life and helped him get back onto his feet almost a year ago…sees the loneliness and isolation that man subjects himself to and wants to help him in return too, he wants him to share the burden and not suffer alone but the man is dead now and there is no one to fill the space he left, no one that can be used as a weapon anymore, no one that can be the monster the sorcerers need to win this fight, so he steps up, he becomes the monster for the story, because he can not let it all go to waste now. Ah the tragedy of not seeing yourself as a human but just a means.

3. Love is the greatest curse of them all:

Yuuta’s story started with him cursing his friend, Rika, because he could not accept her death. He loved Rika, he could not let her go because he loved. He fought Geto Suguru, even tried to sacrifice himself in the end so that his friends could live because he loved and cherished his friends. Love, love, love…In this chapter we see him worry about Gojo because isn’t Gojo doing everything all by his own, even going as far as to stain his hands in blood so that when he is not needed (dead) the rest of the cast does not have to suffer, and so he fills in the shoes of his sensei, a man he respected and loved a lot, he sacrifices himself, his humanity and becomes almost a curse for his sensei because in the end, love is the greatest curse of them all.

[bobbin-buckley]

Cairo Sweet Comfort Headcanons

Cairo Sweet x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, comfort, Cairo being manipulative, mentions of writing porn, R being sad, Mr. Miller

Requested

(This kinda became more of a Drabble than headcanons but it is a list of how she comforts reader)

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

Cairo may have always been mean. Mean to anyone infact. But she never tries to be mean to you.

-For the longest time Cairo denied her feelings for you, saying they were wrong and that she was confused.

-Her feelings for you wouldn’t go away though, she pushed you away at a young age and you came back with a massive glow up. She fell even harder. Her new best friend Winnie tells her maybe you are the one instead of her professor, Mr. Miller.

-Ever since Mr. Miller brought up a madman’s love she’s been fascinated by how he described it. She felt things for him then. Winnie urged it on with how a older man’s pride is his sex, how he takes virginity well. It corrupted Cairo.

-You on the other hand, we’re jealous and disgusted at this. Irritated some old guy could manage to make her be so obsessed. You’re irritants caught Cairo’s eye, seeing how you’d challenge Miller during his lectures or how you’d send glares at him.

-Besides this. After all this, Cairo was certainly confused. She came to you, crying and claimed she wanted you. She needed you after Miller rejected her. Even if she lied to you and maybe even used you, you still took her back into your arms.

-Along the lines of becoming girlfriends, she’s been good about giving you the affection you should receive in a relationship. She tries to make you feel loved and cared for while you do the same for her

-There are moments where she just can’t take it anymore and bursts her anger out at you, calling you names, insulting you, making you feel bad about being with her

-It breaks your heart when she acts like this, though you let it slide most days when she does apologize. Which is rare…sadly

-As you being a wonderful girlfriend you’re always there for her. Giving her the chance to be in your open arms if she needs it, and she does come to you sometimes.

-She has a hard time opening up, too. She’s never really talked about herself, how she likes life, how she feels mentally and physically, or about her parents. Yet she’s opened that up to someone who didn’t even want her, Miller of all people. It made you rage.

-Although you gave Cairo time to talk to you, respected what was meant to be kept hidden. One thing that bothered you is that she’d always be in that journal of hers, writing god knows what. More porn? More fantasies with Miller? Talking shit about you? You never know and are afraid to ask

-Cairo is also a scary person. She’s always terrified you, even as a kid. Her threats always become real, she’s incredibly manipulative and can destroy you in a week. You prefer to keep off her bad side.

-One time you angered her so much she combusted and threatens she’d harm you. Physically too. It never happened luckily, that just says how much she cares for you without you even knowing it.

-And Cairo, could never ever ever harm you physically. Mentally, yeah probably. She can be selfish at times. But she never will hurt you physically, it would break her heart if she ever laid a hand on you.

-Let’s get into that category. If Cairo ever did harm you physically, wether it was a slap across the face, a shove or maybe even a punch. She’d have so much regret right after.

-There was a time she wasn’t having it. She slapped you, and dear god did it hurt. Left a red mark on your left cheek, making you hold back tears because you didn’t want to seem like a baby in front of her.

-“Wait, my love I didn’t mean it. I swear I didn’t mean it.” She’d say immediately after she’d regret it. Kissing you on the head if you let her, caressing the spot she smacked gently. She’s lay down with you and kiss you all over, explaining why she did that.

-She wouldn’t let harming you slide by her, ever.

-Now Mentally. It hurts, it honestly hurts worse being hurt on the inside rather than the outside sometimes. With Cairo having that ability to make someone so upset, it can hurt real bad. She broke Winnie’s heart, real bad. And if she did it to you it’d take time for her to regret it, depending on what you did or how she feels

-When you we’re both younger, she pushed you away because of her parents. They were strict, and when they had a fight with your parents they immediately blocked you out. But that didn’t stop you from seeing Cairo

-You went to her house, sneaking into her bedroom. She was found sobbing while trying to sleep, and it was late at night:

“Cairo?” You spoke above a whisper. She recognized your voice, sitting up as she looked over at you in shock. “What’re you doing here? My parents told you to stay away.” She cried, hiding her face. “And don’t look at me, I look awful.”

Cairo wasn’t an ugly crier at all, she just hated crying in front of people. “Cai, just because you’re parents push me away doesn’t mean I won’t stop seeing you.”

“Yeah well maybe that’s what’s best.”

Those words hit you like a truck going eighty miles per hour. Cairo never talked at you like that before, especially basically telling you to leave her. “But Cai, I can’t leave you. You’re my best friend, I love you.” You confessed. Though those words meant nothing to her then.

They do now

-Every time Cairo sees you with those glistening eyes, filled with tears she always thinks of that night. That night she told you to leave. To never come back. And it hurt her when you listened, but she never came to you when it hurt.

-Because that’s who she is, how she’s always been. She hated sharing her feelings, the only way she would share her feelings, is by making people suffer with her. That’s how she did it with Winnie, Mr. Miller. You.

“I don’t understand, why can’t you just talk to me?” You asked, standing in the middle of her bedroom.

“Because I don’t want you to know. It’s something I keep to myself.” She replied, her left hand holding her journal, and the other with a pen.

“But why? You can talk to me, if you don’t talk to me maybe counseling is better off to help you.” She scoffed at your words, she’d rather vent to a beetle than a therapist or a counselor.

“I write in my journal, that’s where my story goes.” Well that makes you relieved. She isn’t talking shit about you or writing about her fantasies with someone else.

“I understand, but I’m here for you. We’ve been together for six months, and I am still waiting to hear your voice even if it sounds broken when you speak.”

Cairo though to herself. She knew how much she was hurting you mentally by not talking to you, telling you she was either okay or not okay.

“If you can at least tell me if you are okay or not okay. That’s fine.” You pause, “I love you, Cairo. You’re the moon to my Saturn.” Tears were running down your face. “And it hurts, hurts knowing how I think I’m not good enough for you. If it’s my fault that you’re scared. I’m scared too, Cai.”

It was silent, but only for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” Cairo sobbed, “I just don’t want to push you away. I love you too, I love you so much. And all the bad things I’ve done, have made me stop talking about them or my problems.”

-That very day Cairo opened up to you. You held her the entire time, comforting her, rubbing her back, kissing her tears away. Telling her it’s okay to not be okay. She talked to you slowly about things, only opening so much and you kept that respect.

-You gave her one big kiss after each session. You were her lover, her therapist, her best friend, her girlfriend, her future wife, her everything. She loves you. But sometimes love is hard to show when you’ve had a broken heart for quite some time.

-Most nights were kept peaceful, sad, private and loving. Wether it’d end with promise kisses or making love.

-Her comfort is nothing but a song that started as a melody and become stronger as you promise to be there for her. As well as she’d return it.

-Maybe replace that all with a madwoman’s love.

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

I really hope this is good because I felt like I did fast, I even reread it over and over to make sure I got everything I could possibly put in 😭

But I was also emotional making this, I got way to into it

I also had more time than I thought I would lmao

@btbubuini

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter iii

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly)

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 5.3k+

Warnings: some time skips (none too huge), oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, lots of introspection, tornado of emotions, morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, themes of abandonment, mention of love bombing, reoccurring nightmares, sleep paralysis, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, death (minor character), life-threatening accident (major character)

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: ANGST ANGST ANGST...don't say I never warned you hahaha. Anyway, once again, I had an amazing time writing this! (although nervous af 👉🏼 👈🏼) Just FYI, there are some time skips as this starts a few weeks after the gala! So to clarify, it’s now 3 months since oc’s divorce was officially finalized, as in done (the process itself took way longer). The chapter continues from there and yeah, the pace is picked up. Okay, let’s go! Enjoy! 🥰

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Fresh linen. Warm breeze. The smell and sound of the ocean.

You know this place too well, like a memory you hoped to have forgotten. Why are you here now? You glance around, taking in the familiar details—the blank ceiling above, the soft comforter that curls around your body like silk against your skin, and delicate rose petals scattered at the foot of the bed. It’s exactly as it was before — it feels exactly the same; too quiet, too peaceful, and too good to be true.

The sunlight streaming through the window is blinding, yet it draws you in with a force you can't resist. Carefully, you stand up, your feet meeting the cool wood floor, and you shiver. Each step you take towards the window feels heavier, like wading through water. When you reach the window, you see the sandy beach below, the waves beating rhythmically against the shore. It’s beautiful, but the painful kind.

To the left, a young couple, not much older than yourself, their hands tightly intertwined, as if afraid to let go. To the right, an older couple sitting further up the beach, comfortably silent as they take in the horizon, reminiscent of their many years together. You always dreamt of achieving the latter, yet here you stand, having neither, and the chances of ever obtaining it growing dimmer with each passing day.

For many, this was supposed to be a place of happiness, a symbol of love, promises, and new beginnings, but not for you. For you, it was a cocoon, trapping you in a deceptive comfort. You close your eyes, trying to steady your rapid breathing, yet it doesn’t prove to be of much help. Images from your past that you’ve tried blocking out of your mind time and time again suddenly resurface — the arguments, the tears, the feeling of everything and nothing at the same time.

“You’re up early,” His voice startles you, causing you to spin around in a panic. At that moment, your heart tightens in your chest, and a cold sweat forms on your brow. You thought you were alone. You’re certain of it. Yet the sight of your ex-husband standing only a few feet away, his hair still damp from his morning shower, is enough to leave you completely speechless.

"Why are you here?" you whisper, your voice trembling.

"Why are you here?" he counters, his dark eyes piercing into yours. "Isn't this what you wanted? To remember us, to remember how it felt to be together?”

What? This isn't making any sense. Why is he talking to you as if he were a ghost? Your eyes search frantically around the room until you spot it—the wedding band on his finger. No, not again. You hear yourself plead, but the words don't leave your lips. All at once, the room begins to feel smaller, the walls closing in on you. You're stuck in another manifestation of your past, this time reliving your honeymoon, three years ago in Greece.

"I didn't want this," you say, your voice barely audible. "I wanted to forget this."

"But you can't forget, can you?" he says, stepping closer. “You remember this view. You remember the floors and the walls. You remember that we had our first time together here and promised our devotion to each other."

“That’s not fair, Jungkook," you reply, taking a step back, "it's not fair at all, you left me. You don't get to patronize me like this."

“We both know our marriage came with stipulations, __. So when did I ever give you a reason to stay? Or to love me?”

You’re back in the bed, the sheets now suffocating rather than comforting. The sound of the ocean is louder, more insistent, drowning out your thoughts. You want to scream, to run, but you’re paralyzed by the fear, the guilt, the regret.

"This isn’t real,” you say to yourself, tears streaming down your face. “I’m dreaming, none of this is happening.”

“You can't escape what we had, or what we lost. We’ll always be here, together __, in this place,” he says softly, reaching out to touch your hand.

"No," you whisper, pulling your hand away. "I need to wake up. I need to let go...of you."

The room fades, his figure dissolving into the shadows. The sound of the ocean becomes a distant murmur as you fight to open your eyes. Wake up, please wake up. It's your own pleads chanting in your head. Finally, with a gasp, you awake, the nightmare diminishing like vapor.

“Fuck,” you curse, fingers gripping your sheets, “just another damn dream.” Rolling onto your back, you take a deep breath before reaching out for the glass of water on your nightstand. Its coolness soothes your dry throat. You reach for your phone next, checking the time—4:47 AM. Too early to start the day, too late to attempt falling back to sleep.

Your thumb hovers over Jimin’s name in your text threads. It would be 10 AM where he is. You consider sending a message, but you find yourself at a loss for words. Forget it, you lock your phone and rise from your bed, you’ll go for a walk instead. Yeah, it’s brisk outside, but the fresh air will help clear your mind.

After tossing on your warmest coat and scarf, you head outside, the sun beginning to break over the horizon. At first, you wander aimlessly, lost in thought as you pass the odd person or two on the sidewalk. One individual accidentally knocks into you, yet he's quick to apologize. You easily understand their rush; perhaps they've just finished the night shift and are eager to reach the comfort of home.

You imagine their loved ones who must be waiting for them. You could be wrong, and maybe you're biased, but the image you depict is a future you once envisioned for yourself—one of laughter, love, and a warm family. It’s a dream you secretly carried as a child, amidst your unstable upbringing. But as the years passed, what was once a lifelong aspiration felt more and more elusive, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. It seems, in the end, it was just a dream…nothing more.

Of course, you've achieved other goals instead, success in your career for one. It's what you wanted most the more you became an adult. Even before Jungkook came in the picture you were thriving. Yes, you needed investors to expand, but you had already made a strong name for yourself, hence the reason his company even reached out to you for a partnership in the first place.

The second, and more formidable goal you’ve achieved was saving your company. You built your business with an earnest heart, good morals, and an ambition to serve a community. You couldn’t let it all be washed out by a larger, greedier industry giant. You had to do something. Too bad your judgment was skewed the day you saw a similar ambition in Jungkook’s eyes; he was just as determined as you to save what was his.

For a while you got what you wanted, stability for your business. But you got too invested, too short-sighted to anticipate that one day, it would all feel hollow without someone proper to share it with. Alas, your prior hopes, the ones you thought were buried long ago, began returning to you as if they were an overwhelming tsunami.

You wanted warmth.

You wanted intimacy.

You wanted a home.

You sought companionship with Jungkook but no, you read the signs all wrong. Once you dropped the L word, his attentiveness towards you skyrocketed. He began calling you while you were apart, surprising you with little gifts, and setting more time aside so you could both take Bam to the dog park on free days. But then it all stopped. After months of showering you with attention, his efforts exhausted him, so he looked for the first exit out.

You remember getting the text one afternoon— When will you be home tonight? We need to talk about something. Selfishly, you hoped he was going to tell you that you could take that trip to Fiji together. You had been hinting at it for the last two weeks. Of course, you were wrong because the last time you checked, trip itineraries didn’t come with divorce papers. At that moment, you realized that Jungkook didn’t try to love you in the slightest, he tried loving at you; love bombing 101. Your ties are now completely severed.

Yesterday marked three months since your divorce was finalized. You didn’t cry like you thought you would, but you did meet with Melody that day. As your therapist, she offered you her empathy, validation, and perspective. You feel you’ve gotten better since you started meeting with her, finally beginning to heal. Yet the unsettling dream that haunted your sleep last night shows you there are many things still left to resolve, feelings you need to confront, but where to start?

You love your ex-husband, but why?

Can it even be called love?

And do you really need him to love you back?

While you can only offer fragments of an answer for the first two, you seem to have a better-formed answer for the last.

No, you don’t need Jungkook to love you. He’s proven to you time and time again that you are not the one he can bear his heart to. He’s always reiterating that he wants you to find someone else, someone more deserving of you, whatever that means. Likely, it’s all projection. Out of the two of you, he’s the one more likely to re-marry.

As for you, you’ll always love him, at least a semblance of it. After all, he was once a part of you. But what was once a part of you, doesn’t need to be anymore. You have to let him go...though you wish you didn't have to.

You continue walking straight until you find yourself drawn to a small park overlooking the city skyline. It's fairly empty, with only a few people nearby. As you settle onto a weathered bench, you take in the view before you. It stretches endlessly. Sunrises have always held a special place in your heart—the amber glow breaking through the abyss of darkness as if a beacon of hope.

"You'll get through this __," you reassure yourself, “one day at a time.”

“Happy six months, boss!”

A goofy, boxy smile graces the man’s lips as he leans against the doorframe of your office. You take in his appearance: crème-colored sweater paired with dark brown slacks, the fabric impeccably tailored to his tall, lean frame. His ebony hair is perfectly parted down the center and feathered out to either side of his face, giving him a soft, approachable look. The glasses are new though, round with a hint of gold. Though a minor accessory, they seem to tie the rest of the look together.

Classy, yet cozy, you hum silently, it suits him.

Everything about the way he’s dressed today complements his features—not that it could be any other way, as Taehyung could never not look good in something. You learned that the hard way when you opted against a gaudy shirt and pant set your stylists suggested he wear for a commercial. Taehyung, being a free spirit, decided to try it on for kicks, and yeah, it strangely worked. He ended up shooting the entire commercial with it on. That video’s gotten your business the highest engagement rate across all your media platforms to this day.

“Mr. Kim, does six months of working together really merit a celebratory drop-in?” You lean back in your desk chair, arms folded as you narrow your eyes at the man. You're taunting him, not that he minds.

“Please,__,” he starts, stepping further into the room, his presence effortlessly filling the space. “The only person that still calls me that is the intern who works on set with us. Makes me feel old, like I’m double my real age.”

“Well, you are older than both of us.”

Taehyung gives you the look, a mix of amusement and mild aggravation.

“Two years is hardly considered older, but if you’re done trying to prod me, I’d like to ask you a series of serious questions.”

“Okay, what?” You straighten your back, curious to know what he’s thinking.

“Red or white wine?” He waits for your response, eyes seemingly hopeful. You're unsure where he's going with this, so you delay your response, suspicious of the spontaneity of the inquiry.

“Red,” you respond, cautiously. Taehyung seems pleased.

“Strawberries or blueberries?”

“Strawberries, though I prefer cherries most."

“Science or literature?"

"Literature." You surprise him with this one. "I like books, vintage ones."

"Do a lot of reading in your spare time?" he asks.

"When I get some, yes."

"Me too. Tolstoy?"

"Occasionally," you answer. "Where are you going with this, Taehyung?"

He shrugs. "Just making conversation." He pauses before continuing, “I also happen to know a place that offers all those things plus private bookings. How about you and I go for dinner tonight, as colleagues? If you hate the wine, I’ll drink it for you.”

The weight of his request hits you like a ton of bricks. Apart from a handful of social events, you and Taehyung haven't exactly mingled outside of the office. His sudden invitation to go out for dinner takes you by surprise, especially considering the nature of your professional relationship. However, you can't deny the subtle shifts in his behavior, the way he's been checking in on you more often, especially since the Winter Gala. Weeks have passed since then, but, no doubt, the memory of that night still lingers in both your minds—the shaming from a bitter business competitor, the unwanted press shining a light on your divorce, and your ex-husband who so easily approached you like it was nothing.

Taehyung suggested for you to slip away through the back door with him, offering to drive you home himself rather than leaving you with your limo driver. But you declined, feeling embarrassed that he wasn't merely a witness to the night's events, but also made to be a spectacle himself. You never wanted him to feel like he had to pity you or coax you through your personal trials. Being a good colleague is one thing, but he didn't need to go above and beyond.

“I don’t know if I can join you tonight, I'm sorry. I have a lot to do,” you say, your voice wavering slightly. It's not far from the truth with the mountain of business reports and budget plans to look over. Though your business remains functioning, it's a lot to maintain, especially with the number of investors having withdrawn their support once news got out about your marital separation. It's unfortunate how much a person's situation and the things they've built can change on someone else's dime.

“You sure?" Taehyung tries again, careful not to sound pushy. "The place isn’t overly posh, but we could go elsewhere if you’d prefer."

“I’m sorry, Taehyung, maybe another time?” you say, fingers fidgeting with a few documents on your desk, a nervous habit you developed ages ago. “I-"

“I understand,” he says, his expression softening, a hint of disappointment flickering in his eyes before he masks it with a gentle smile. "I have a film shoot that might go late anyway. Speaking of which, I'm expected on set in about half an hour so I'm going to head out, but if you change your mind, you know how to reach me."

You nod, recalling having his contact in your phone. The two of you agreed it would be easier to coordinate meetings and schedules this way. "I will, thank you. Good luck with your filming."

As you watch him leave, a twinge of guilt tugs at your conscience. Perhaps you shouldn't have dismissed him so quickly, considering how insistent he seemed. It's as if he was genuinely looking forward to the affair.

No, you can't entertain it any further. You have no way of knowing how far the night might've led—it's best to leave Kim Taehyung alone.

When you declined Taehyung's invitation to get dinner, you didn’t expect it to result in not seeing or hearing from him for the next week and a half. As an endorser, he doesn't work at the office regularly, coming and going as needed and since you hadn’t had any promotional projects for him recently, his absence seemed normal at first.

But this was Kim Taehyung. The same Taehyung who loved making spontaneous visits to the company, especially towards the end of the week. He often came in once, twice, sometimes three times a week to talk with Namjoon, your secretary, in particular. Somehow, the pair had become friends, and since Namjoon’s desk was near yours, Taehyung would drop by whenever he saw your door open. So, not hearing from him for 11 days straight was strange, like he'd vanished.

It was now Friday evening, the clock pushing 5 pm. You consider texting him to make sure he's okay, but wouldn’t that be hypocritical? You had agreed with yourself to leave him alone. Maybe he was on vacation, perhaps at a vineyard, or had taken on another film project. Being a highly talented actor, Taehyung had no shortage of casting directors contacting him for their movies and TV shows.

Embarrassingly, you hadn’t actually seen any of his movies. You enjoyed a good rom-com now and then, like the ones Taehyung starred in, but you usually opted for something more mindless when you had the time to watch anything.

You can imagine the loyal following he has though, as Taehyung was the epitome of a "dream boat" with his natural good looks and expressive eyes. He must be good at kiss scenes, which must be especially difficult for anyone dating him. You know you'd have a hard time accepting it at least, the fact that your flawless actor boyfriend was off making out with equally beautiful co-stars on set, that is. Anyway, as your endorser, maybe you should try supporting his films a bit more. There had to be one that would catch your eye.

Curious, you open a new tab on your phone and search for him.

"Holy fuck," the curse leaves your lips the minute the search returns. Dozens of articles display on your phone screen at once, all covering South Korean actor Kim Taehyung's recent motorcycle accident. You checked the publishing date—six hours ago. “Taehyung’s in the hospital. He’s in the fucking hospital!”

Panicked, you leave your office to speak with your secretary.

“Ms. __,” Namjoon greets you immediately, a trace of hesitation in his tone upon seeing your frazzled state. “Is everything alright?”

“Joon,” you refer to him by his pet name, “Did you know that Taehyung’s in the hospital?”

“What?” He seems as shocked as you, his eyebrows shooting up in alarm.

“It happened this morning around eleven or something. It was a collision, a motorcycle accident. Oh god, he’s—he’s been taken to the ER,” you choke out the words, struggling to maintain your composure as you try recalling one of the articles you skimmed. “We have to go. I have to go right now.”

“I’m coming with you.” Namjoon leaps from his chair, grabbing his keys from his desk drawer. “I’ll drive.”

“No,” you stop him, “I don’t know how long this’ll be and you usually work until 5:30, so I don't want you to have to be stuck at the hospital with me. I want you to be able to call it an early night if you want. We'll take separate cars over.”

“Okay,” he nods. “I’ll meet you over there then?”

“Yeah.” You nod back, clutching your keys harder in your palm. “Yeah, sounds good.” You turn around to head for the nearest exit, but your secretary stops you mid-step.

“__,” he calls you by your name, having known you for the past decade permits him to do so. He softens his eyes when he sees the worry in your own clear as day. “He’s gonna be okay. We have to believe that. Please drive safe.”

“You too,” you say, then disappear from his sight.

When you arrive, it’s a madhouse. Sirens blare as ambulances rush into the hospital parking lot, doctors and nurses race from room to room, and fans—so many fans—crowd outside, all waving signs of comfort and support.

“I'm here to see Kim Taehyung,” you say urgently to the charge nurse. She recognizes you immediately and throws you a look of distaste, but you’re too focused on the emergency at hand to care. “I’m sure you know who I am, but I need to see him. We work together, we're colleagues.”

“Ms. __,” she replies, surprisingly calm and collected amidst her obvious dislike of you. “I’m afraid he’s currently receiving serious medical attention and won’t be able to have any visitors at the moment.”

“I’ll wait,” you blurt out the words faster than you anticipate. You feel like you're eating your words from earlier about leaving him alone, but this is different—his life is on the line. "I can wait for him.”

“Visiting hours are only until 8 pm. I really don’t think—”

“Please,” you interrupt, your voice stern and urgent. “He's part of my team. He's my...friend. I have to know if he’s okay.”

The nurse hesitates, her expression softening slightly as she sees the genuine concern in your eyes. “Alright,” she finally says, her tone firm but kinder. “You can wait in the family lounge, but I can’t promise you’ll be able to see him anytime soon."

“Thank you,” you say, relief flooding through you. She directs you to a quiet room down the hall, away from the commotion where you're better able to calm your racing thoughts. You find a seat in the far corner immediately and send a quick text to Namjoon, letting him know where you are.

As you wait, the minutes drag by painfully slow. You can’t stop replaying the articles in your mind from earlier, the words “motorcycle accident” echoing like a mantra. How did this even happen? How bad was his condition? How much strain is this going to put on his acting career? You wish you knew.

A handful of nurses enter the lounge occasionally, calling out names and providing updates, but none of them are Taehyung’s. You find your ears burning every time the door opens, heart racing, only to sink back into your seat when it’s not about him.

Finally, you catch sight of Namjoon, his face mirroring your concern. He spots you immediately and rushes over, taking a seat in the chair beside you. “Any news?” he asks, his voice low and urgent.

“Not yet,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “They said he’s receiving serious medical attention and don't know when we'll be able to see him. We have to leave by 8.”

Namjoon nods, his expression grim but unwavering “We’ll wait together.”

"If you need to leave sooner than—"

"I know," he interrupts. "I appreciate it, but please let me be here too."

You sit in silence from then on, exhaustion beginning to weigh heavy on both your shoulders. It's not until 7:35 when a doctor walks into the lounge, his tired eyes scan the room until they land on you and Namjoon.

“Are you here for Kim Taehyung?” he asks. "I'm Dr. Min."

You nod, your heart in your throat.

“He’s stable for now,” Dr. Min explains, “but he's still in critical condition. We’re doing everything we can.”

“Can we see him?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighs. “Only for a few minutes. And you need to be prepared—he’s heavily sedated and has sustained significant injuries.”

“I understand,” you reply, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come.

Dr. Min leads you through a maze of hallways until you reach the ICU. As you enter Taehyung’s room, the sight of him hooked up to machines and covered in bandages nearly breaks you. You take a deep breath and step closer, Namjoon right next to you.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, but he remains motionless, his breathing steady and rhythmic. The severity of his injuries is evident in the way he lies.

“We're here, Taehyung,” Namjoon continues, noticing your slightly frozen state. “We’re both here for you. Please, fight through this. You and I, we're good pals, remember? Like brothers. You have to—"

Although the more collected one before, Namjoon begins to struggle with his words. You place a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. Having known him for 10 years, you know that despite his strong exterior, he has one of the softest souls you know.

"I think I have to go, __. It'll be better if I see him when he's awake. I want to stay longer, but I just don't know if I can."

"I understand, we can't stay much longer anyway. Go home and get some rest. Dr. Min will call us when he's awake and able to talk."

After you give him a hug, Namjoon leaves the room, leaving you alone with Taehyung. You end up pulling up a chair beside his bed and slowly reach out to touch his hand. It's instinctive for you, the need to feel his heartbeat overpowering any other thought.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you, Taehyung," you start, your voice a mere murmur. "You'll push through this, right? Like in the movies you film. I confess I haven't seen any of them yet, but—but I will! That's how I found out about all this actually. We hadn't seen you for nearly two weeks, so I searched you up. Not in a weird way though, okay? Not like...anyway, I'm sorry I said no to you that day. When you asked to go for dinner, it threw me off. This whole thing with my ex-husband just has my mind in fifty million directions, so I promise it wasn't you. I hope you didn't think that."

"You've always seemed to show up for me, whether it's for the good of the company or even a little emotionally in some aspects. With the reputation I have these days, I'll always be grateful that you chose to work with me. You have a good heart, Taehyung, so much that I think if we ever got close, I think it might be unbearable for me," you pause, a couple of tears slipping down your face.

Just then, a creaking of the room's door momentarily pulls your attention away. Dr. Min stands a few feet away, clearing his throat—a gentle but firm signal that it's time for you to leave.

"I have to go soon, but I'll be back tomorrow, okay? Even if you're still asleep or not, I'll stop in and sit with you for a while because...because I need to be sure that you'll be alright. Namjoon will come see you too when he's ready. But I'll see you in the morning, alright Kim?"

You squeeze Taehyung's hand gently before heading out of the room, thanking the medical staff along the way.

When you get home, the first thing you do is head straight for the bathroom. Your whole body feels riddled with stress and exhaustion, and you know that the only thing that can offer even the slightest amount of solace is the warmth of water.

Yet not four minutes after immersing yourself in your tub does your phone ring, demanding your attention. Being this late into the evening, you figure it has to be Jimin.

But you're wrong.

When you reach to answer the call, it's actually an unrecognizable number that's flashing on the screen. You hesitate for a moment, debating whether to answer or let it go to voicemail.

"Hello?" you answer cautiously, curiosity getting the best of you.

There's a brief pause on the other end before his voice comes through, words slightly muddled. "Hey, it's me," he says, his tone soft. "I've been...I've been thinking about my life, you know? About everything.

"J-Jungkook?" Your heart sinks as you quickly decipher the owner of the voice, but then it hardens. It's obvious from the slurring of his words that he's been drinking. "Why on earth are you calling me? And at this godforsaken hour too."

"I told you...I've been thinking about my life."

"I'm hanging up."

"No, please, stay on the line for five minutes. Please, I have to tell you...what I've been thinking."

"You have three minutes," you sigh, ready for anything (except what he was about to spring on you).

"I wanted to save my company," he continues, his voice wavering slightly. "For my mom's sake, you know? My dad owned it and stuff but she was the one who was behind all the technology...and that's why I married you. You...reminded me of her."

Your breath catches in your throat as he reveals the truth behind his actions, the raw honesty of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. You knew very little of Jungkook's mother, too, as he didn't speak of her often.

"And then...then there's the real reason I divorced you," he admits, his voice breaking slightly. "My parents had a terrible marriage, you know? My mom...she had to manage my dad's temper for years...he didn't love her at all. He just married her because she was smart and could make him rich. It made her so unhappy, but you know she loved him so much. She...she passed away when I was 16, and...and I didn't want that for you. I didn't want you to be trapped like she was, because I'm like my dad you know? My feelings are...weird... I never know what the hell I'm...feeling. I'm probably not making a lot of sense am I?"

"I'm trying to understand." You want to hang up here and now but every time he speaks, you cant bring yourself to do it. The pain in his voice cuts through you like a knife, and it's a side of him that you've rarely seen before.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice thick with regret. "I'm sorry for being such a dumbass that day I got my stuff. That was like, six months ago and I still hate myself for it. I shouldn't have made an advance on you like that. I was...I was immature, and I wasn't thinking."

"After the gala," he continues, his words becoming more coherent as he speaks. "I...I felt even more guilty, you know? Because, I still have a photo of you and Bam on my dresser. It's small, but I've tried to put it away over and over and over again, but I can't do it. I don't know what's wrong with me...it's almost a year since we lived under the same goddam roof and I can still smell your perfume, I can still remember how you laugh with both your lips and your eyes...the way you scrunch you nose when—"

"What are you trying to say Jungkook?" You interrupt. "That you're sorry and can't get me out of your head, so you need my forgiveness to move on?"

"No! That's...that's not it at all. I mean, I do want your forgiveness but—"

"Well, what the fuck is it?" You hate how aggressive your voice is sounding, but the obscene amount of incoherent information he's revealing to you is overwhelming. "It's 10 freaking pm at night, I had a long day, I'm sleep deprived, and Taehyung's in the fucking hospital which is so distressing, so I'm sorry, but I can't handle any more of your cryptic messages!"

"I think I might love you," he finally says, his voice raising as well. "I know I'm...I'm being a dumbass, but I...I think I love you. I love you __, fuck!"

a/n: So....how are we feeling about Jungkook rn? Also, my darling Taehyung is taking one for the team here 😭 🤍 LMK what you think! Lastly, I understand the timeline of events is a bit tricky to follow, so if it helps I can put something in the series masterlist to help.

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

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side note: I tried tagging readers in comments but most of them didn't go through, so i'm sorry about the clutter here...😬

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[alpydk]

ALPY! My genius friend.

I've just had a truly angsty idea but I've got a lot I need to write at the moment! So I thought I'd see if you want it? Be warned, it's a dark one.

Prompt - It has been years and years since the defeat of the nether brain and the ascendancy of Dekarios the Divine.

Tav is now settled down with a family, which includes an ambitious youngster with an arcane gift.

Gale Dekarios, Tav's former love and The God of Ambition, pays a visit. Looking to select a new chosen of their own...

Riiiiggghhht - I am hoping I have gotten this to a worthy enough standard for you. - Really though, thank you for the prompt because this was an enjoyable challenge. I have tried my best with the angst and I hope it will provide you with what you need/want.

1648 Words - Angst, God!Gale, No comfort, Sad Ending. You've been warned.

As she cried in pain from childbirth, he stood unseen by her side, nothing but a cool breeze through the closeness of the summer heated cabin. His hand was a soothing balm to her brow as the sweat beaded under her hair, strands which in the past he had pushed gently aside before kissing at flushed cheeks. He had believed godhood was worth losing all this, and it was only in that one moment he faltered, watching his daughter come into the world.

Each day he had watched her from his throne, eight mortal years of seeing the child from afar. The young girl with the chestnut curls and deep chocolate eyes. But what was eight years for a god? Seconds had become decades; decades had become millennia. Eight years was now an eternity for him, and yet still Gale Dekarios watched over her.

It was so long ago at the party that he’d last spoken with Tav. The memory of the taste of fresh wine and the sound of Milil’s harp were now a faded spectre in his mind’s eye. The small glimmer of hope he’d had of her joining him in godhood had vanished to nothing at the sight of her swollen belly, on the growing child he would only ever see from a distance. He’d offered her everything: the sun, the moon, the stars; but she’d denied him, her only request being that he give up the crown and come back to her.

Weak and pathetic.

She didn’t cry any tears on their first night apart, or the second. He knew this because he’d gazed at her from his astral pedestal, watching, waiting, hoping that she would pray for him to come back to her. Weeks passed and still nothing came from her lips. Had she even really loved him? Had it all been a lie, just as Mystra had lied to him? “I love you. You should never doubt that.” He shook his head. He was better than this, better than to be pining over some worthless mortal. She didn’t have a scrap of magic in her, so what importance was she to him? And yet still he kept his eyes on her.

This is what you wanted.

As she cried in pain from childbirth, he stood unseen by her side, nothing but a cool breeze through the closeness of the summer heated cabin. His hand was a soothing balm to her brow as the sweat beaded under her hair, strands which in the past he had pushed gently aside before kissing at flushed cheeks. He had believed godhood was worth losing all this, and it was only in that one moment he faltered, watching his daughter come into the world.

Mystra, as expected, had been quick to get involved in his affairs, striking quickly at the infant with the Weave. Words had been shared between the two gods and followers had been sent to their deaths in their name, the first of the many battles between the two previous lovers. It mattered little to either of them how many died, but such were the games between deities. He had learnt quickly that godhood was in some ways similar to lanceboard: take your time, plan ahead, and make sacrifices where needed, and for this, he would eventually be victorious. Ambition was not something to be trifled with.

Achieved it all.

There were elements of godhood he’d not been so prepared for though: the eternity of it all was the biggest issue. Time seemed so short when he was alive, living as if each day was his last, but now, for eight summers, he had watched the child grow, some days stretching on further than he cared for. Seeing the girl skin her knees and hide the tears from her mother, just as he’d done with Tav on lonely nights when his nerves had been aflame from the orb, was one such day. These moments had been insidious, worming their way under his skin, drawing out a dormant sensation from deep down. Guilt? Regret? Sadness? He refused to focus on them. He’d whisper instead to her that tears were a weakness, that she was to aspire to greatness just as she was destined, and with each day she was getting stronger. She was competitive, despite Tav’s objections, and she was headstrong, curious, and easy to manipulate. She was willing to serve him.

Now broken and alone.

Sending a follower was not an option to collect this one. This he would do personally, and he allowed himself to take the form of the weak individual he’d been before his ascension, quietly walking the forest trail towards the house. Were the purple robes too much for the guise? Had his skin always appeared so enervated? The dusty path was lined with wildflowers, purple petals guiding him onwards to his destination; their star-shaped blooms, a cruel reminder of all he’d given to his love so long ago. She had not cared about him, and now he felt nothing for her. There was only the child and their destiny of becoming his chosen.

---

“You came back…”

He’d felt Tav’s presence long before she had even spoken, but he observed the quaint hovel for a short while longer in the hopes she would fall for the deception. “But of course, my love. Even godhood would not let us part souls from one another.”

Doomed for nothingness.

Her arm reached up, a tentativeness he had not seen during his life on Toril. She was testing him, testing the illusion that stood before her. He could see the hope in her eyes, the tears never shed from that night at the campsite burning brightly under the glistening sunlight. Eight years of pain and longing beating through the heart of the woman in front of him, each thump a whisper behind the din of the universe. In another time, maybe his heart would have stirred for hers and yet he stood there with the mask, the charismatic smile she knew from the disrupted portal now set in place. “You look as beautiful as the day we first met,” he spoke, the enchanting smile drawing her in further.

He stepped towards her, a wanted energy building in the air between them. The summer sun held its shadows amongst the trees, and the breeze fell to nothing around them. Birds no longer sang, and the cicadas halted their monotonous chirp. All this created just for her.   

Come to me. Give me what I want.  

She placed her hand on his cheek, soft and inviting as she had all those years ago, and he rose his own to hold her closer to him, his face pressing into the warmth of her palm. She looked at him as if no time had passed between them, eyes full of love, her lips as flushed as he once remembered them being. But the longer she gazed, the more she saw. He could not hide the emptiness of eternity that bled through his sight, the disdain he now held for her and those beneath him. She tried to pull her hand away from him, only to be held in place; her strength nothing when compared to that of a god.

“Now, my love… Remember, one can’t always be a gentleman.” His eyes flickered a cruel metalic sheen and he kept his grip on her as he pulled her into the small home, ignoring the glow of a buried emotion as it was pushed beneath the waves of contempt.

---

As Tav had sat holding their daughter, he had wondered why he’d even come down to the mortal plane to collect his daughter. He didn’t need Tav's permission to collect the girl, didn’t need to advise anyone of the consequences or even what his specific wishes were. He simply had to retrieve the child, have her say yes, and then she would step in line as chosen were fated to do; a pawn on the lanceboard, ready to be moved into position. So why was he even here?

That which I have lost.

The girl cried, not understanding her mother’s anger, not knowing who the man was sitting in front of her. The air crackled, and she fell quickly silent, seeing his eyes watching her, cold and judging, realising that this was the moment she was about to join him.

He was growing impatient hearing Tav’s arguments. She seemed to want to remind him of who he used to be, nagging like a mosquito during a humid evening. At the party, this may have meant something to him. Now, though, there was nothing to remember of what he had once been other than the image that sat before them, the greying hairs at his temples, the tattered robes he loathed being seen in. She begged him, pleaded with him not to take the girl, but he did not care. He hadn’t cared for any he had taken before. Why would this one be any different?

All that was left.

Tav stood in anger, her voice rising, her dagger pulled from its sheath and he watched as she tried to plunge it into his chest, the blade snapping on the point where the orb had once lay, where delicate kisses had once been offered.

He observed her as she collapsed to the ground, as the child rushed over to offer comfort. Guilt? No. Pity… He took the arm of the child, her hesitation only a moment before she felt the power in his hand, and he swept one last gaze over Tav before focusing his sight on the young girl. “What fools these mortals be.”

As he vanished away with their daughter, Tav released a desperate keen, her voice tearing through and ringing in his mind. Her sobs and tears were cried out to the gods, prayers shouted into the void, and he smiled, knowing they would never be answered.  

Now broken and alone.

Years passed in the Astral planes and his new chosen served him well. Each time he looked upon her, he felt a wave of nostalgia, her eyes reminding him of his own. It was curious, the way she carried herself, the way she controlled the Weave, the way she never cried like others of her age did.

Seconds had become decades; decades had become millennia. The years were now an eternity for him and yet all the God of Ambition did was watch. Watched the ants as they crawled on the surface.

Doomed for nothingness.

---

Weak and pathetic. This is what you wanted. Achieved it all. Now broken and alone. Doomed for nothingness.

Come to me. Give me what I want. That which I have lost. All that was left. Now broken and alone. Doomed for nothingness.

[shycroissanti]

Taiyou misses his family...🥺💔

(Yes, he can take off his skull helmet)

Well, giving a little context of his past :D

This is actually quite sad🥺💔

Taiyou was a very powerful and merciless upper moon in the past, he always hunted humans and even ate other demons too (just like Takahiro), but one night he came across a woman who lived in the middle of the forest, just her and her three young children (this woman's husband had abandoned her). Taiyou didn't feel hungry at that moment... In fact, he ended up falling in love with the woman.

Time passed and he began to get closer to them, little by little he stopped hunting other humans, he started to feed only on other demons and to always protect his wife and children (yes, he married her, I didn't even I thought of her name😭). Taiyou completely abandoned the other demons, which made Muzan furious.

So... One night, the worst night of Taiyou's life... Muzan sent other demons to kill Taiyou and his family in this house in the forest, and at the same time some demon slayers saw this situation and went to try to save the humans!! The slayers didn't know that Taiyou was no longer an evil demon, so he was the main target, Taiyou fought and tried to save his beloved family, but the demons managed to kill them and the slayers killed Taiyou.

Taiyou ended up becoming a lonely spirit that inhabits this forest, for a long time he was furious about what happened, but after many years he calmed down and the forest and the animals that lived there became his new family, so he always protects this forest and animals, always remembering the people who accepted and loved him while he was alive.

Some details:

- The woman and children weren't so scared at first because Taiyou had a more human appearance.

- Taiyou hates other demons, but he is still friends with some because he can see/feel what other demons are really like. For example, he is a great friend of Yudi because he saw how Yudi changed and also doesn't kill humans anymore. In short, he knows when someone is pure evil or not, and he chooses to be friends with those demons who want to change, just like he changed in the past🥺

- He ended up becoming a little crazy from the time he spent alone in the forest, but whenever he approaches his old home, he returns to being normal.

@mylou-doodlesworld @pulim-v I think maybe you guys would be interested in this?

(〃ﾉωﾉ)

[witheredallium]

Thank You, Clyde

(I could not find the original post. However, this fic is based on the idea that Clyde could mimic Lewis Williams/William Lewis' voice for Alex. Be prepared, it's a bit longer than my normal fics.)

Being on the run allowed time for a lot of thinking. Alex thought about many things; Clyde, Winfrey, Lankmann, Patient 66, the situation they were in, etc. The thing that came with a wave of grief every time they thought about it, was their brother, Lewis Williams. 

Lewis was the best little brother that Alex could ask for. They got along well, he was well-behaved, had many friends at school, and tried his hardest to make Alex proud. After the death of their parents, Alex had taken care of Lewis for a few years before his untimely death. Although Alex had seemed put together in that news segment, they were internally shattered to pieces. 

His death hurt less now, but sometimes the grief just came around every once in a while to punch them in the gut. It’s been happening more often now since Alex and Clyde were on the run. When they did think about Lewis, Alex wondered what he would think of where they were now; hanging out with the creature that killed him. How fucked up was that? They often thought that Lewis would be rolling in his grave at the thought. Then, they would remember that there was no grave for Lewis or the other children at all.

Alex hadn’t even noticed that they were crying until Clyde loudly cleared its throat. They wiped their eyes furiously, they hadn’t cried about Lewis in months. 

Clyde watched the human in mild concern, wondering if being on the run was getting to them. “What are you thinking about?”

“Thinking about my dead brother, Lewis,” Alex sniffled lightly. 

Clyde didn’t know how it had never made the connection before. Alex was Lewis William’s older sibling. And Clyde had killed him. 

Clyde had never felt any grief or remorse for the ones he had killed until that moment. Clyde never got particularly close with any of the humans he killed, but this situation was different. One of its closest frie- companions had been harmed by his actions. However, it then realized that it would have never met Alex unless he had killed Lewis, so it felt a little less bad. Despite that, Alex was still upset and Clyde did not know how to handle an upset human.

Suddenly, Clyde was hit with an idea.

“You can absolutely say no to this, but I can mimic his voice and create a hallucination of him for you. You could at least talk to him one last time,” Clyde suggested quietly.

“That’s kind of fucked up, but you’d really do that for me?” Alex sniffles again, eyes wet with unshed tears.

Clyde nodded, “Whenever you’re ready.”

Alex hops down from the tree they are hiding in. They knew it was probably unsafe to be so in the open, but they would rather fall to their knees on the ground than fall from the tree. Alex whispers almost inaudibly, “I’m ready.”

Suddenly, a small dirty blond-haired boy appeared in front of Alex. He looked disorientated for a moment before locking onto Alex’s face.

“Allie!” the boy cried, racing toward his older sibling.

“Oh, Lew,” Alex almost choked out a sob. They crouched and held their arms out for a hug for just a moment before realizing they couldn’t do that. As real as Lewis looked, he was just a hallucination. Alex frowned for a half second before smiling again at the young boy.

“Allie, don’t be sad, I’m right here!” Lewis beamed as if that would take all the pain away. He was still in his Halloween costume, Alex noted. They had saved up for Lewis’ Halloween costume and were so excited to take pictures of the boy, but they never got the chance before he was taken. Lewis noticed Alex checking out his costume. “I love my Halloween costume. It must have been a lot of money.”

Alex nodded, “It took me a bit to save up for it, but you had been doing so well in school that I thought you deserved something nice.”

Lewis sits in front of Alex’s crouched form, “You didn’t have to do that, y’know. I’m grateful for all you do for me.”

“I know, bud,” Alex sits down fully. “But, doing special things for you made me feel good because it made you happy. And I love you so much, I would’ve hated to see you upset.”

“I love you, too,” the boy smiled. “But I have to go very soon, my friends are waiting for me.”

“Ah, yes, of course. Friendship is very important,” Alex sighs. “I’m sorry I ended up in this situation, I hope you can forgive me. I just have to survive for now and Clyde is the only way for me to do that. I love you so much, Lewis.”

The boy smiled and tilted his head, “I could never be mad at you. I love you, too, Alex.”

And the boy faded away.

Alex had been holding everything in, so the moment Lewis disappeared, Alex began sobbing. Fat hot tears trickled down their face. Snot clogged their nose, making it hard to breathe. Alex almost threw up. They had worked so hard for that boy. They had struggled with taking care of him while Alex still had to finish high school and work a job to make ends meet. Alex worked so hard and he died.

Clyde hadn’t anticipated such a visceral reaction from Alex. It quickly and not so gracefully landed on the ground and wrapped Alex in a blanket. Alex hardly, if at all, acknowledged the action.

“Shit,” the veldigun sat in front of the human. “Can you hear me, Alex?”

Alex coughed harshly and nodded. “Okay. Uh… everything is fine. Just try to follow my breathing.”

It took several minutes for Alex to calm down. Even as they did, it seemed as though they were dazed and unfocused. The veldigun carefully placed its claws on the blanket covering Alex, hoping that the pressure would ground them. Slowly, they raised their eyes to Clyde’s and spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand,” the veldigun looked confused. “What are you sorry for?”

Alex sighs, “Because you had to see me like this and I used you for something so selfish.”

Clyde removes its claws from Alex’s shoulders. “Eh, I’ve done worse to others. Plus, I’m using you for something selfish, too. Least I could do.”

Alex chuckles mirthlessly, “That doesn’t reassure me… but, thanks for doing what you did, though.”

“Like I said, the least I could do.”

The rest of the day was slow and uneventful. Clyde silently made plans on how to get food for the night while watching over Alex’s sleeping body. It had thought about running off to steal hot chocolate from somebody’s house but decided that he shouldn’t leave the human all alone. Another thing that crossed its mind was to sneak back to Alex’s house to get their scrapbook. It knew it would have to do that soon. Being on the run was difficult for the veldigun and it had no idea how the human would continue to respond to such dire circumstances. Getting the album would put Alex into higher spirits so they could keep surviving, Clyde justified, and not at all about the fact that sometimes it needed to see a smile on Alex’s face.

[saphronethaleph]

Task Failed Successfully

Senator Amidala closed the door to the Naboo senatorial office, and smiled.

“All right,” she said. “Knight Kenobi, Padawan Skywalker. I’m glad the two of you were available.”

“We are, of course, at the disposal of the Senate,” Obi-Wan said.

“And I can guess what the problem is,” Anakin added. “Can’t you, Master?”

“Of course, my young padawan,” Obi-Wan replied. “But what about if the Senator explains?”

“To put it simply, then,” the Senator said. “The Supreme Chancellor would like to know what in the galaxy the Kaminoans are talking about.”

Anakin blinked.

“You don’t know?” he asked. “He doesn’t know?”

“The Senate has some idea of some details, but at this point some or all of them could be incorrect,” Padme replied. “And the Chancellor wanted me to try and understand the specifics.”

“That… could be a problem,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Because the Council doesn’t have much idea either.”

“We were speaking with them for over an hour,” Anakin contributed. “Master is one of the better diplomats in the Jedi Order… we were actually told to try and find out who in the Senate might know what’s going on.”

Padme frowned, slightly. “You mean you were trying to find out if someone in the Senate had done this?” she asked. “But the army was ordered for the Jedi.”

“So we’ve been told,” Obi-Wan replied. “Obviously, it’s only been a few hours, but we haven’t been able to come to any conclusions – and, to put it bluntly, Senator, it could be that this army was ordered with the blame being placed on the Jedi in order to confuse the issue.”

Padme considered that.

“Possible, but I don’t think it’s likely,” she said. “Whoever ordered this army clearly had a reason behind what they were doing, we just don’t know what it is.”

“Which means we’re just going around in circles,” Anakin concluded.

“Perhaps, but simply hearing it from Padme has been useful,” Obi-Wan said. “I hope you’ll keep us informed if you learn anything?”

“Of course,” Padme smiled. “The two of you helped save my planet, Obi-Wan, Ani. You’re friends.”

“The Jedi Order teaches us to avoid attachment,” Anakin said, then grinned slightly. “But friends don’t count, right?”

“If friends did count, then I don’t think most of the Order would be very happy,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Yeah, true,” Anakin agreed. “I think Yoda still sends holocalls to his last padawan.”

“Is there something unusual about that?” Padme asked.

“It’s… more of Order business than anything,” Obi-Wan said. “My padawan really shouldn’t have passed on gossip like that. It’s not going to do him any good when it comes to whether he’ll be knighted.”

“Master,” Anakin complained. “You said I had nothing to worry about!”

“And you seem determined to prove me wrong,” Obi-Wan replied. “Perhaps you can prove me wrong about proving me wrong about that.”

Anakin’s lips moved.

“...okay?” he tried. “I’ll do my best, Master.”

“In that case, Anakin, I will have nothing to worry about,” Obi-Wan replied.

Padme smiled.

“So what are you going to do with the army, anyway?” she asked.

“That’s a very good question, but you should probably ask one of the members of the Council,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Master, everyone knows you’re going to be on the Council some time soon,” Anakin said.

“And I’m not one yet, and everyone doesn’t include me,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “But… really, that does depend on who and why there would be an order of over a million clones to fight for the Jedi. The only possibility I can think of is the Sith, but… why would the Sith order an army for the Jedi?”

“If it’s a Sith plot, do you have any chance of unravelling it?” Padme asked, worried. “You stopped whatever they were trying to do with Naboo.”

“Did we?” Obi-Wan asked.

“No, I mean you, specifically,” Padme replied. “And you, Anakin. The Droid Control Ship was key to whatever it was they were doing, and Obi-Wan killed a Sith.”

“And there’s been no sign of the other in a decade,” Obi-Wan said, thinking back to the Naboo crisis. “Though… now I come to think about that particular series of events, Senator, I do have to ask whether a specific member of the Senate was involved.”

“With the Sith?” Padme asked.

“There’s got to have been some Senators working with the Sith, back then,” Anakin pointed out.

“Perhaps, but that’s not what I mean,” Obi-Wan explained. “I mean the clone army. Because if there is anyone who could accidentally order an army, it is the junior Senator from Naboo.”

He turned, to direct something that was not quite a glare at Senator Binks. “Isn’t that right, Jar Jar?”

“Mesa not as bad as all dat,” Jar Jar protested. “Mesa been doing quite well for mesa self in the last ten years. Mesa has been takin’ classes on avoidin’ disaster and not bein’ clumsy.”

“Perhaps you have,” Obi-Wan said, relenting slightly. “But you must admit, Jar Jar, that certain events have given you a reputation it will take many years to live down yet.”

Jar Jar sighed.

“Mesa knows dat,” he admitted. “Theres-a all kinds of jokes about mesa. It seems like even when mesa floatin’ legislation, people makin’ jokes about waterfalls.”

Obi-Wan nodded, closing his eyes for a moment.

“I apologize, Jar Jar,” he said. “It’s easy for me to forget that you have to deal with that reputation all the time.”

“Yeah,” Jar Jar said.

“Speaking of which,” Anakin began. “Did anyone ever figure out how that happened? If they did, I missed it.”

“Mesa has said it over and over again,” Jar Jar protested. “Mesa was simply showin’ the bombad Chancellor-Elect the really pretty bits of Theed that mesa wasn’t sure that he’sa seen before, and mesa was wavin’ mesa hands around, and mesa… made a boopjak, big mistake.”

“The Chancellor-Elect fell three hundred and eighty metres,” Obi-Wan said. “Then he hit the ground, and exploded. It put something of a damper on the celebrations.”

“Jar Jar does know this,” Padme pointed out. “And he’s heard it over and over. He’s done his very best to put it behind him, and is as valued an ally of Chancellor Stonk as I am.”

“Hesa was a big supporter of rebuildin’ Naboo!” Jar Jar said, brightening as he rebounded in the way only he could. “Stonks even gone to the moon!”

“I heard about the colonization project of Ohma-D’un,” Anakin said, interested. “Do you think the terraforming equipment could be used to help make a planet less dry and sandy?”

He frowned. “Actually, Master… could we use the army for that? The only reason the Republic won’t do anything about Outer Rim slavery is that it would mean building an army, right?”

Padme looked interested, but frowned.

“We’d probably need to find where it came from, first,” she said. “But… I’ll definitely suggest it, Ani.”

She smiled. “Assuming the Senate gets any say in what to do with the army, of course.”

[enbysiriusblack]

childhoods of marauder characters:

james- grew up in a wealthy neighbourhood in liverpool with occasional trips to mumbai to visit family. other than the trips to india where he could hang out with his cousins his age, he didn't have other friends and grew up very lonely before marlene moved next door when they were about eight, and she became his first non-family member friend. he mostly played quidditch or walked around the garden playing make-belief, very outdoorsy kid. mcgonagall is his godmother/his mum's best friend and ex, so she was around fairly often and he loved trying to play pranks on her (and always failing). his parents gave him anything he asked for and tried (but struggled) keeping up/playing with him. so he didn't really understand not getting his way or what he wants. he grew up with the idea of love being an unconditional thing, and if you love someone then you give them everything you have and are

remus- grew up in a small village in wales with no other kids around. he never travelled very far, other than to the nearest town when they needed something they couldn't get from neighbours or make themselves. his friends were the neighbour's sheep and dog, and his family's chickens. he struggled knowing how to act around people, and his parents didn't really want him around people as they were very overprotective for his safety after greyback bit him, and he was very separated from popular culture. he spent most days indoors reading, knitting with his mum, or watching and talking to the sheep, and doing household chores. he grew up thinking people would hurt him if he got close or he in turn would hurt them, and knowing that he'd have to try twice as hard as the other kids to have a good future

peter- grew up in either essex or kent in a seaside town. he was raised by his mum with his dad out of the picture, but his mum took in homeless/run away kids and taught them life skills and found them jobs, so she didn't give him much attention and expected him to be able to look after himself. so he spent his days walking around town and the beach, collecting stones and shells and painting on them. he was constantly surrounded by people, but never got attention from them. the people his mum took in also had a lot of mental health issues or addictions, so he learned a lot of more adult things quite young, as well as having a paper round when he was 10 to be able to spend time at the arcade instead of just walking around the street. he grew up with the idea that childhood was very fleeting so he valued that more than anything, as well as growing up with the idea that he had to put his life into his own hands and no one else would look out for him but himself

sirius- grew up in islington, london. occasionally going to france or other countries for holidays or special events they were invited to- like charity galas and annual balls. grew up in a family that were losing their money, with the aristocratic class fading away, but were desperately trying to cling onto upper class lifestyle. was expected to be quiet and polite and act like a grownup, but never did. had prospective friends visit all the time but he never got on with them (evan rosier being one of them), which made his parents give up after a while. his parents wanted him to be quiet and studying constantly (if not socialising with other respectable families) so it gave him an easy way to pretend he's studying in his room whilst sneaking out to explore the muggle world. he grew up thinking he was shameful to the people around him, which only made him want to be more shameful cause fuck em, since he was also taught just by being born, he was superior to others (which he slowly unlearnt)

regulus- grew up in islington, london. occasionally going to France or other countries for holidays or special events they were invited to- like charity galas and annual balls. grew up in a family that were losing their money, with the aristocratic class fading away, but were desperately trying to cling onto upper class lifestyle. was expected to be quiet and polite and act like a grownup, which he did. unlike, sirius he did not have prospective friends visit as he wasn't the heir and his parents thought him too strange and awkward for other respectable families. his parents wanted him to be quiet and study constantly so he did just that, other than when he played piano or cello which he had permission by his parents to do anyway. he grew up thinking he had to constantly impress his parents to live up to sirius' easy charming personality and brains, as well as being taught that just by being born, he was superior to others (which he never unlearnt)

lily- grew up in a small town nearby woods (i like the idea of her being scottish but i cannot imagine a scottish severus, so maybe her family is scottish but moved to midlands of england). her parents both worked full time and did a lot of overtime/work out of hours so petunia looked after lily and the house most of the time, leaving lily to go out and play. she was very outdoors-y and hated being at home all day, unlike petunia, so she'd go out to the woods to find severus and play with him, or visit the nice old ladies down the round or go to the park (big fan of the swings) or collect bugs. petunia always seemed so much more grown up than her, and when she did more and more magic, they grew even more separated and lily spent less and less time at home. she grew up with the idea she had to be mature and high achieving to get petunia to want to hang out with her, and that the world in general could seem like a scary or dangerous place but that there was really goodness and kindness and nice things in it all

mary- grew up in plymouth, devon. her dad was in the fishing industry and had quite unreliable hours, which made her more close to her mum, but she still got on well with both of them. she had an older sister who got on with them less, since she was a goth and a lesbian and didn't care what people thought, and their parents are a bit more traditional, but tried being openminded- mary looked up to her a lot despite being very different people. she had a lot of friends and went to a lot of kids clubs (like gymnastics, arts & crafts, performing arts, etc.) also i see her as muggleborn, so she went to primary school obviously and had lots of friends from there). grew up with the idea people are people and you should accept them for their differences (cue friendship with alt butch lesbian autistic marlene), and you should always do what you think is best for you, despite what other people want from you

marlene- scottish but moved to liverpool at around eight years old and met james. is the youngest, and has a few older brothers. her family is very traditional so her mum tries to spend the most time with marlene and teach her feminine qualities, although marlene just wants to go out and play quidditch or go to james' and throw mud at each other for 5 hours. grew up catholic and kept her faith, goes to church every Sunday and does confessions when shes old enough. had meltdowns often as a kid, especially having undiagnosed autism with a mum who wants you to do the opposite of what you want all the time, and she'd run over to the potter's to calm down. grew up thinking she was 'too much' (my beloved quinni variant) and had a lot of religious issues to work through (especially concerning her sexuality)

dorcas- grew up in belfast with their dad. she'd accompany him to building sites (her dad's a builder) often when no one was available to look after her, and they'd play around in the safe areas and the other builders would go talk to her/play with her whilst on their breaks. grew up in a flat with a lot of friendly neighbours in the building who helped raise them. their dad would go out with workmates to the pub after work, when they could, so she spent a lot of time there and always got given free juice and crisps (kids going to pubs is a very normal thing in the uk btw!) had a large sense of community, but not much experience with making friends their own age. grew up with the idea that the world was a dangerous place (its northern ireland in the 60s...) but also that change comes from the people and she could do whatever she could to help others

emmeline- grew up in south korea at a young age but moved to scotland to live with her grandparents (on dad's side) at around six/seven to learn english and prepare to go to hogwarts (her dad grew up in scotland and went to hogwarts). her parents expected her to be studying in the years before hogwarts started, but she never really did (other than her grandfather teaching her english and her grandmother teaching her a few charms). went to a 'bright futures' club and made a few friends there, as well as her fake order of merlin that she began carrying everywhere. she sent letters to her dad constantly, lying about her fast progress and only received a few letters back. grew up thinking she had to achieve greatness or she was worthless, and had to constantly get attention from loved ones by whatever means she could

[roninfromtheops]

unordered headcanon’s

some with explanations some not

Mr.mcprideypride definitely has either a dent or like minor swelling from holding his pen so often

Beel doesn’t actually spill crumbs or anything, I know the story says otherwise but I feel like he’s the kind of guy to eat a passionflakey without any crumbs (which is magic and horrifying to watch)

All of the brothers (-minus Satan) possess shapeshifting to a certain degree, Asmodeus is the best at it. (Based off of how some archangels in the bible can change forms by ‘possessing’ humans)

Solomon’s magic didn’t turn white from magic, or even was natural. It turned white from stress of undoing all of the magic he had previously done during his time used by the ocean spirits.

Levi is really athletic…. Under water. I just know he swims in that big tank.

Mammon is a good big brother to Luke, Mammon views Luke like a young Satan (if Satan had gotten to be a child)

Barbatos isn’t really a demon, he’s more akin to Satan in where his existence was created by an angelic power separating. The difference between Barbatos and Satan is that Satan’s was based of emotion rather then dulling and existing power. (Space and time, being separated into space, time.)

Solomon’s cooking isn’t actually bad. It’s not good but it’s not terrible. It’s like how cilantro is either good or tastes like soap, this is because of how accustomed the taster is to Devildom food (hence why Simeon and Luke find it disgusting while Raphael finds in good and Mc finds it… not poisonous…)

Before the fall Lucifer had much brighter eyes (I know canon says otherwise, but let me believe) now they weren’t bright pink but more like albinism on human eyes.

Levi has some form of rosacea that comes back no matter what he does, he’s really hygienic too.

Piggybacking off the last one, Asmo is weary of lending makeup to Levi because of how many products can trigger his skin. Asmo ends up making a custom line of products for Levi.

Lucifer isn’t half as mean as he’s portrayed in the game to his brothers. It’s like how most people are affectionately mean to their friends.

Lucifer… likes screamo music, at lower decibels. But he specifically only likes siren scremo.

Satan isn’t as biased to dogs as he’s usually shown. He finds them adorable, he finds almost every friend-shaped animal adorable, its more of a act to oppose Lucifer.

One time Satan made Hell’s Coffee for Lucifer and tried to put a ton of sugar in it. It was unpalatable because Lucifer could taste extremely bitter coffee mixed with sugary syrup.

Mammon usually always finds a way to make up for what he did to his brothers.

Monthly movie nights (In mammon’s room, why else would he have such a large couch)

Belphie has fallen asleep against Lucifer and Mammon more times then he’d ever admit, there’s something so comforting about resting on his eldest brother’s.

The brothers can feel when Mc commits their sin through their pact. Vice versa, And sometimes their human committing their sin is better then committing it themselves.

The sins are less of a part of the brothers but an overwhelming feeling to them, for example. Satan isn’t an angry guy, it’s just how suffocating wrath is. ( think of it less as a feeling they have and more of a aura around them)

[writtenjewels]

One Bed night 3

Night One, Night Two

This time, it was Salim who woke first. He found Jason asleep, his fingers having loosened their grip on Salim's shirt, his head tilted toward Salim's fingers. Salim's heart beat a little faster noticing their closeness. Warmth swelled deep in his body. His eyes flicked to the freckles scattered on Jason's cheeks. His fingers twitched as he fought the impulse to touch—hair, cheek, hand, anywhere. Salim let out a breath and pulled away. He would claim the first shower this morning and be rid of the bulge pressing against his crotch.

Salim felt much calmer when he exited the bathroom. He found Jason awake and waiting his turn. The young marine's half-asleep expression shifted to something more alert. Salim suddenly wished he hadn't chosen to walk out of the bathroom in just his underwear. He didn't give his middle-aged, hairy body much thought, but after seeing the more lean and hairless Jason, he couldn't help the sudden attack of self-consciousness.

“Mornin',” Jason drawled. “You wanna head to breakfast together?”

“Sure,” Salim agreed. He padded over to get dressed while Jason showered. He wished there could be some balance between how casual and easy it could feel between them, and how tense and awkward.

They spent the day on tours again, only they experienced all the tours together. Salim had discovered yesterday that touring was a lot like how Jason described drinking: not as fun alone. Besides that, Jason usually whispered a funny remark during the tours. It added a bit of playful energy to everywhere they went. They ate lunch and dinner together, chatting and teasing each other the whole time.

After dinner, they strolled past shops. Now and then they paused to look at what was in the display windows before moving on. They eventually found their way to a bar. Salim remembered suggesting they have drinks tonight. He wasn't surprised Jason was going to make him see that promise through.

Inside, the atmosphere was a little loud with televisions going. Salim pointed to a table away from all the noise.

“You sure you're okay with this?” Jason asked once they sat. “It ain't haram or whatever?” Salim's eyebrows shot up; he had talked about halal and haram with Jason over breakfast, but didn't expect the man to remember.

“I think Allah will forgive me having one drink with a friend,” he responded. “What game is that?” He nodded to the televisions meaningfully.

“Basketball,” Jason told him after a quick glance. “It' ain't really my thing.”

“Yes, I remember. Something about a Super Bowl?” Salim smiled at the memory. He, of course, hadn't understood a word Jason said at the time. It sounded good, and Jason seemed so pleased, so the gleeful energy had rubbed off. Jason met his smile; the gleam in his eyes assured he was remembering, too.

A waiter came by and took their very simple order of two beers. They were given bottles within minutes.

“Cheers.” Jason lifted his bottle.

“Cheers,” Salim echoed, and they tapped before taking a swallow. Salim tried not to immediately cough his out. “Ugh, it's been a very long time since I drank.”

“No hoppin' through single bars, huh?” Jason teased.

“I don't think we have those in my town. I wasn't ready to find out.” Salim took another small sip. Jason mimicked him and the two fell silent, listening to the game and the chatter around them. “So, did you, ah... hop single bars?” Salim asked after a moment.

“Nope.” Jason shifted a little on his seat. His eyes flicked briefly to Salim, then dropped to the table. “Weren't any I liked.”

“Do you like this one?”

Jason's eyes flicked up again and he shrugged. “So far.”

Eventually the conversation moved on to other things. They finished their beers and spent a few minutes watching the game. Or rather, Salim stared at the screen listening to Jason explain what was happening. It might not have been his thing, but he still understood it far better than Salim.

They made it back to their room, where Jason went to the bathroom first to brush his teeth while Salim got undressed. An unexpected heaviness weighed down when he thought of them only spending one more night together. The experience was so much better than he could have anticipated.

“Hey.” Jason's head poked out of the bathroom. “You gonna wear one of those dumb pun shirts?”

“I thought you liked my pun shirts,” Salim retorted, turning to face the younger man. He was much less conscious of his bare chest than this morning.

“I do.” Jason flashed a smile. “It's why I asked.”

“Which one's your favorite?” Jason took a moment to answer. Salim found his eyes gravitating to the dog-tags resting against Jason's bare skin.

“The omelette.” Jason's answer snapped Salim out of his daze.

They switched so Salim could use the bathroom. He stepped out and found Jason already under the sheets. Something about that made Salim feel warm all over. He went over to check the air conditioning to make sure the settings were okay. They looked fine, so he went around to his side of the bed and got in.

“Nice shirt,” Jason noted.

“You said you liked it,” Salim reminded him. Jason just smiled. That air conditioning couldn't be working, because Salim was still warm. “That ball game was interesting,” Salim spoke up. “I didn't think American balls were round.”

“You see many American balls?” Jason asked. The way he dipped his voice sounded almost suggestive.

“There's what you call a football,” Salim pointed out. “It's not round.”

“I don't think you can judge our balls from just one.” There was that tone in Jason's voice again.

“I feel like you're messing with me, but I can't figure out how.”

“Give it time.” Jason looked like he was fighting not to laugh. “It'll come to ya.” Salim frowned at him while Jason kept grinning. There was a playful brightness in his eyes that Salim recognized from the other times he teased Salim.

Salim ran through their conversation in his head again. Oh. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. Jason snickered.

“That,” Salim declared, “was an awful joke.” He pointed to the words on his shirt. “Omelette that slide.” Jason laughed, leaning forward just enough to let his tags dangle in the space between them.

“You always been such a dork?”

“Probably.” Salim reached out to catch the tags between his fingers. “But I think you like it.”

“Probably,” Jason nodded. They sat there for a few heartbeats. There was a charged energy in the space. Salim broke it by releasing the tags. He reclined on the mattress, Jason following a moment later. The silence continued stretching on. Salim knew Jason had to be hearing his thoughts, but the marine didn't say so.

After a while Jason wiggled a bit and propped his arm on the pillow just above Salim's head. His fingertips lightly brushed against Salim's hair. Salim swallowed; he had unconsciously done the same last night. He closed his eyes and let himself feel it all.

[splatoonpolls]

SPLATOON OC TOURNEY ROUND 4 BATTLE 4

Talia Yareli by @gingergari vs Tami by @wyrm-in-a-closet

PROPAGANDA/BACKSTORY

TALIA

Talia (age 24 (~16 in splat1), pronouns he/her) is from Calamari County! Her family consists of her mother, her older sister Moselle (28, a firefighter) that she looks up to a lot, and her younger sister Ren (18). He originally moved to Inkopolis to make a living as a pro battler, which he did for a few years with his roommate turned girlfriend Peri, maining both Dynamos depending on the kits given. Then Grizzco opened for business, and it turned out that they paid pretty well all things considered, and that they were both *really* good at it. (They also thought it was fun for the most part) Since they were consistently hitting the upper ranks of Profreshional, when Grizzco expanded to the Splatlands the pair were invited to relocate as Eggsecutive VPs to help support the branch and to help train up some new recruits. That's how Victoria (Eggs) and Fiorello (Safety) ended up joining them :] Speaking of nicknames, Talia has the worst name memory in the world and has a lot of trouble remembering the names of people and occasionally objects, so he gives them a nickname she remembers a lot better. (Peri is a nickname! But sometimes Talia falls back on pet names until he remembers either her nickname or actual name) He is very worried that he comes across as rude for it (or anything in general) so tries to be as friendly as possible. He was the one that gave Safety the life preserver gear as a gift! Talia is a huge fan of Big Man (finds that he relates to him the most) and did cry when he lost the leader splatfest :( Also cried when he was homesick and tried to get her favorite dish, clam mochi, at a Splatlands restaurant which turned out as you would expect. His favorite splatband is Sashimori. Talia is friends with my Agent 3, but does not know the truth about Grizzco.

TAMI

An inkling born to ordinary parents who worked at Gone Fission power plant. However, a salmonid big run happened in the area, and because Grizzco didn't yet exist, it had to be abandoned, and Tami's parents were killed. Tami herself, who was also there, was badly injured and lost her right arm, was found by some salmonids, but because she was a young inkling the salmonids didn't know what she was and so instead of killing her took her home. She then spent almost her entire life growing up with the salmonids, and became a very skilled fighter, but also starting a band with a couple other salmonids. They make music that's like horrible to listen to and will overestimate you. Once she was 14, she joined the war on salmonids on the side of the salmonids. Over time Grizzco expands and poses a larger and larger threat to the salmonids, so Tami decides that she's going to go try and put a stop to it, because she's the only one who could make it to inkling civilation without being killed, although that doesn't change the fact she didn't know the language, culture, or anything. After spending several nights on the streets of splatsville, Tami is found by Tide, an octoling who's been living there for some time. Tide takes Tami under their wing, despite them knowing nothing about each other. Over the next few months Tide teachers Tami inkling language, has Tami participate in battles (where she fuckin rocks at it bc she's been literally trained for war), all while Tami searches for more info on Grizzco, but unfortunately nobody knows shit about it. Finally she happens across Cuttlefish and eventually falls into Alterna, where she has no idea what's going on until eventually wow Mr. Grizz is there. She fucking kills him and then just kinda leaves without really joining the squidbeak splatoon she just wanted to kill Mr grizz. Anyways then she and Tide probably go back to salmonid or something I haven't really figure this out. Sorry for the text wall

[marygih]

Do you have any new headcanons? I found the ones in your pin very interesting!

Firstly: forgive me for the delay in responding, I started collecting my new headcanons and ended up forgetting to come back here to show them.

Anyway, my new headcanons:

1. Olive's tiara/crown is also made from a heavy material to help her stay on the ground and not fly away. It's extra weight to give her more comfort on the ground.

2. The council of ymbrynes never learned that Bentham accidentally created the hollowgasts. If they had known, Bentham would probably have been arrested. Even if he didn't create the hollows on purpose, he definitely planned a small genocide. This is probably considered a crime by the council.

3. Peculiar souls are not acidic, ambrosia was only acidic because the Wights wanted it, they made it that way. An addictive and corrosive liquid. It was their way of harming their peculiar "allies".

4. Caul always knew that Miss Peregrine was the successor of one of the 12 great ymbrynes who sealed Abaton and this probably made him hate her even more.

5. Nothing bad happened with the old Enoch loop, he probably just didn't suit the place and asked to change loops and ended up in Cairnholm,As grumpy as Enoch is, he likes living there, if he didn't like it he would have asked to change loops at the first opportunity.

6. Every time Abe visited Emma after the war he always went with the intention of ending everything with her, but personally he couldn't, he never had the courage to break her heart personally. Ending everything by letter was easier for him and more painful for her.

7. Claire is very young, she was probably found by Miss Peregrine when she was still very little and Ymbryne adopted her, that's why Claire is so attached to Miss P, she's the closest thing Claire has ever known to a mother.

8.Just like Olive and Noor, Claire is also a peculiar "Infant" she was born with a second mouth on the back of her head and her story must be quite sad.

9. When Victor's body was brought to the island, Enoch was the one who sewed up the entire body, he was the only one who had the courage to do this for his friend.

10. Millard has never feared being forgotten by Miss Peregrine, and probably enjoys being in her presence because she never fails to notice him. She feels his peculiarity, it's as if she sees him. Even though she doesn't really see him, she feels him, she always knows where he is, he will never be forgotten by her, she is the only one who notices his presence all the time.

11. Horace's dreams are completely meaningless, sometimes he manages to interpret and avoid the bad future, and sometimes he cannot understand what he dreamed but tries to explain and everything comes out confused and meaningless.

12. During the entire time that Fiona was missing, she was recovering from the injuries caused by her fall and the violence of the wights.

13. When Miss Peregrine saved Abe she probably didn't know what his peculiarity was, he was too young to be able to kill a hollow, he probably only discovered his gift when he was older and managed to survive an attack by hollowgasts. After all, there is no way for him to discover his power without having met Hollow in person.

14. Hugh has a whole routine organized for his bees so that their life in his stomach is as comfortable as if they lived in a normal hive.

15. There was probably a burial for Caul, and for all the current wights, after all, before they discovered what they had become, they were all presumed dead.

16. The constant transformations of ymbrynes into their respective birds harm their bone health. Their bones keep changing size and becoming hollow, their joints are also damaged, which is why they develop bone and joint problems early. Like Miss Peregrine's arthritis and how Miss Avocet became a wheelchair user.

17. Mr White and his men always knew that the children were with Caul and not Miss P. He was only so worried about knowing where the Falcon was because he knew that it was his master, and he was worried that he wasn't with the children. The wights were only chasing the children to force them to look for Miss Wren faster.

18. Wights do not have complete control or trust in hollows, and they can see the creatures, but they do not trust them enough to ride hollows like Jacob does.

19. Miss Peregrine's greatest fear is losing one of her children. She's already lost many children to tragic deaths, and she definitely doesn't want to go through that again.

20. The ymbrynes of the primordial era of the peculiars were also giants. Gigantic and very wise bird-women.

[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

May 24th

And we’re back, thank goodness!!! I’ve been so worried about my good friend Jonathan! I can’t wait to hear how he outsmarted the Count and made it out safely and —

Letter, Lucy Westenra to Mina Murray.

GODDAMMIT

But hey, it’s the girls! I love the girls! Let’s see if they’ve been building any castles in the air recently.

My dear, it never rains but it pours. How true the old proverbs are. Here am I, who shall be twenty in September, and yet I never had a proposal till to-day, not a real proposal, and to-day I have had three. Just fancy! THREE proposals in one day! Isn't it awful!

This is my idea of a nightmare actually. But!!! More points for the poly theory!!!

I feel sorry, really and truly sorry, for two of the poor fellows.

Nevermind, they didn’t pass the vibe check. (Or did they?)

You and I, Mina dear, who are engaged and are going to settle down soon soberly into old married women, can despise vanity.

Cottagecore sapphics anyone? 💖

I told you of him, Dr. John Seward, the lunatic-asylum man, with the strong jaw and the good forehead. He was very cool outwardly, but was nervous all the same. He had evidently been schooling himself as to all sorts of little things, and remembered them; but he almost managed to sit down on his silk hat, which men don't generally do when they are cool, and then when he wanted to appear at ease he kept playing with a lancet in a way that made me nearly scream.

Wasn’t he supposed to be the cool unaffected one? Maybe Lucy just has this effect on people.

He was going to tell me how unhappy he would be if I did not care for him, but when he saw me cry he said that he was a brute and would not add to my present trouble. […] And then, Mina, I felt a sort of duty to tell him that there was some one. I only told him that much, and then he stood up, and he looked very strong and very grave as he took both my hands in his and said he hoped I would be happy, and that if I ever wanted a friend I must count him one of my best.

GOOD!!!!! I LIKE HIM!!!!!

Well, my dear, number Two came after lunch. He is such a nice fellow, an American from Texas —

[Miraculous flashabacks] DON’T —

I know now what I would do if I were a man and wanted to make a girl love me.

Normal Things To Tell Your Bestie, 99th edition

Mr. Quincey P. Morris found me alone. It seems that a man always does find a girl alone. No, he doesn't, for Arthur tried twice to make a chance, and I helping him all I could; I am not ashamed to say it now.

😏

I must tell you beforehand that Mr. Morris doesn't always speak slang—that is to say, he never does so to strangers or before them, for he is really well educated and has exquisite manners—but he found out that it amused me to hear him talk American slang, and whenever I was present, and there was no one to be shocked, he said such funny things. […]

'Miss Lucy, I know I ain't good enough to regulate the fixin's of your little shoes, but I guess if you wait till you find a man that is you will go join them seven young women with the lamps when you quit. Won't you just hitch up alongside of me and let us go down the long road together, driving in double harness?'

OK BUT THIS IS LITERALLY SO SWEET he personalised it and even made fun of himself to diffuse the tension 🥺

And then, my dear, before I could say a word he began pouring out a perfect torrent of love-making, laying his very heart and soul at my feet. He looked so earnest over it that I shall never again think that a man must be playful always, and never earnest, because he is merry at times.

AND THEN MADE HIMSELF VULNERABLE!!!!! What a man!!!

I burst into tears—I am afraid, my dear, you will think this a very sloppy letter in more ways than one—

LUCY

Why can't they let a girl marry three men, or as many as want her, and save all this trouble?

Wait. THE POLYCULE IS CANON??? THE POLYCULE IS CANON?????

'If that other fellow doesn't know his happiness, well, he'd better look for it soon, or he'll have to deal with me. Little girl, your honesty and pluck have made me a friend, and that's rarer than a lover; it's more unselfish anyhow. My dear, I'm going to have a pretty lonely walk between this and Kingdom Come. Won't you give me one kiss? It'll be something to keep off the darkness now and then. You can, you know, if you like, for that other good fellow—he must be a good fellow, my dear, and a fine fellow, or you could not love him—hasn't spoken yet.' That quite won me, Mina, for it was brave and sweet of him, and noble, too, to a rival—wasn't it?—and he so sad; so I leant over and kissed him.

Honestly? Mood. I am utterly charmed by this cowboy.

Now number 3 has to be something.

P.S.—Oh, about number Three—I needn't tell you of number Three, need I? Besides, it was all so confused; it seemed only a moment from his coming into the room till both his arms were round me, and he was kissing me. I am very, very happy, and I don't know what I have done to deserve it. I must only try in the future to show that I am not ungrateful to God for all His goodness to me in sending to me such a lover, such a husband, and such a friend.

THAT’S IT????? A POST-SCRIPTUM????? GIRL THIS IS YOUR FIANCÉ

OK OK I am willing to accept that the strength of your feelings can’t be transcribed into words. But still.

In conclusion: these are Lucy’s three boyfriends, and yes, they eat garlic bread. 🧄🥖

(Also the contrast with Dracula’s roommates did not go unnoticed)

< Prev 🦇 Next >

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *30*

If anyone would ask Bruce how he could have known, he would tell them that it is obvious. Phantom - the new part-time member of the Young Justice - who seemed to be forever young and their new engineer Danny Fenton who is in his early twenties have perfectly fitting schedules. When Fenton is working in the Watchtower, Phantom will be unavailable for the Young Justice and vice versa. Also, the pranks started after both of these figures appeared. Of course one could argue that they could just be related or somehow knew each other otherwise, but the pranks that were pulled on all of the mentors of the Young Justice were only possible with Phantom Powers. And because of the new Ghost Shield the young hero wouldn't be able to just fly into the Watchtower and had to use the Zeta-Tube, what would mean that they should be able to look at the logs. But Phantom never entered the Watchtower while the pranks were under way. And as soon as his team really needed him, Fenton would make an excuse to leave work early.

What he wouldn't tell anyone, is that he saw how Fenton had transformed himself into Phantom, shortly before the Flash got up to run for a snack, just to fall down because his ankles had been cuffed together.

And maybe he helped him from time to time, with a well timed question to distract his fellow heros. Because the motive became clear really fast. Everytime someone got pranked, that someone had done something to ignite the wrath of the younger heros.

All of that also meant two things.

First of all, as soon as Danny was at work, Batman would be extra aware of his surroundings. The pranks never worked on him, which meant he had to dodge more attempts for the rest of the day.

And secondly: He should talk to Tim, after he found out how he had put his foot in his mouth this time, since he just saw his spoon move in his coffee mug without anyone's involvement. He just let his (probably salty) coffee go cold, brooding. Maybe he should go home early today and spend some quality time with his son...