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#and then being unable to explain why it feels good it just does
litnerdwrites · 3 days
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About the dancing chapter...
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I agree 100% with this comment by the amazing @deathbealady (no seriously, I didn't even realise how similar this situation was to Mor's) and I wanted to use it as a jumping off point to talk about Eris Vansera. To be clear though, I like fanon Eris and am currently undecided about canon Eris, for reasons I'll explain later.
For now, we can start with the IC asking Nesta to try and seduce Eris. I refuse to believe they weren't given this idea by Elain, either because she volunteered Nesta outright, or because she put the idea of using Nesta's artistic passions that, at this point, they know were effectively weaponised by her mother, to seduce an older male with the idea of marriage.
Either way, the fact that the IC knew what Nesta's mother had done, and decided to take advantage of it without ever asking what she thought of it, or what she might like, despite it being the same thing done to Mor when she was Nesta's age, if not younger. It's made especially worse given that Nesta likely feels unable say 'no' to the IC, because if she does, she'd likely be threatened with Elain being made to do it.
If that isn't bad enough, and I wouldn't be sure if it could get worse if I wasn't about to tell you why, then we can take a look at the age gap between Eris and Nesta. I've heard people argue that it's fine, since they're both consenting adults, but I think that the term 'adults' needs to be redefined. Humans are considered adults at the age of 18 or so, but only have a fully developed frontal love at 25. Meanwhile, fae are considered adults by the age of about 50 to 80 (with the latter being the age that a High Lord can be named such, but some people say it's 50). This has some pretty serious implications.
Starting with the fact that if females in Illyria and the CON are married off/wings clipped when they have their first period, which seems to be from around the same time human women have theirs, to 18 if they try to prevent it through medication, then they aren't adults themselves. They aren't even half way there in the (I don't want to say mild, best case, better or anything like that case because it's all messed up) cases where the woman is 18 or so. It also implies that a fae female's frontal lobe isn't developed until she's over fifty, since we don't have evidence to suggest the contrary.
Just because Nesta was almost 25 when she became fae doesn't make it alright either. Given that her aging must have slowed astronomically when she was turned, it's fair to assume it would have a huge impact on maturity and brain development. Which means the Archeron sister's in general might have serious gaps in the way their brains develop, especially Feyre, since she was resurrected and her body changed. It might even be slightly different for Nesta and Elain since they were killed, pulled apart and put back together in the cauldron.
Since it was the cauldron, there's a chance that their brains were also changed to be like fae, but either way, both possibilities and scenarios come back to the same answer: The Archeron Sisters are still mentally children, and will likely remain so for several decades longer, perhaps even longer than regular fae due to the unprecedented and irregular nature of their existence.
This brings me back to the subject of Nesta and Eris. He is a grown adult many centuries older than Nesta, with frontal lobe development and centuries of experience. Nesta is barely even half way to being an adult, while he is over 500. Moreover, the IC believe that Eris is a monster.
Now, I'm well aware that there's likely more to the issues between Eris and Mor than what we've seen. Between Eris's own words regarding 'circumstances' that he wouldn't explain, to the narrative going out of his way to show us good parts of him. Such as the way he moved to protect his mother at the HL meeting, and how he let his own father torture him but still protected the IC's secrets and took the unnecessary verbal abuse from Cassian. There's even the fact that Eris simply lets others believe him to be the villain, and let's Mor control the narrative for her own comfort, as opposed to spilling whatever happened, even if it would, somehow, absolve him.
Now, to be perfectly clear, there is little Eris could say that would absolve him, truly, of what happened. I acknowledge that he's a victim of his father, however that doesn't mean he can't also be Morrigan's abuser. And yes, even if he didn't touch her, neglect is abuse. Leaving her there for dead, regardless of the reasons, is a messed up thing to do. The categories of victim and abuser are not mutually exclusive.
The narrative wants us, as readers, to question Eri's actions and begin to wonder what happened between him and Lucien and Mor. It wants us to open up to the idea that Eris may not be as bad as he's made out to be, and that there's something more sinister happening, since it puts some level of suspicion on Lucien, Mor and Beron. However, just because that's the story we're being fed as readers, doesn't mean that the characters have the same perspective, or are living the same story, necessarily.
If you think about it, they have no reason to believe that Eris isn't a psycho who abuses woman and would slaughter his brothers to get to the crown. His comment about circumstances does read like an abuser trying to justify his actions with little effort, while giving no real reason, not that one would make up for what the IC believes he did. It's not a good enough reason to absolve him or make him seem like a good person.
He still hunted Feyre down, even though he had no reason to once she and Lucien made it to the Winter Court, and it, logically, would've caused more trouble for Beron if they were caught. Especially since a whole fire fight took place, and it would be easy for Kallias to connect that with autumn citizens, since he didn't know about Feyre's magic. If anything, hunting them at that point would've caused more problems and they'd be better off just telling Beron that Feyre and Lucien were there. A high lady, if Beron acknowledges the title or not, trespassing in foreign lands with a banished son would be enough to raise a fuss about.
He, also, has people who've known him for centuries, from Mor to Lucien (though the latter probably has more accurate info given his connections in various courts, and the fact it's unlikely Mor shared many words with him over 5 centuries) and the fact he's essentially blackmailing the Nc. This is more so an issue of his having certain pieces of information being a cause for the IC to fear what he may do with it, or what might be found out by their enemies if they use torture or a daemati.
I'm not saying, by any means, that I hate him. I think he's actually written better than Rhysand at this point, since unlike Rhysie playing hero, Eris knows he's a terrible person and low key owns it. Whether or not that's subject to change is dependant of SJM's writing in the future. There's a chance she may actually turn him into Rhys 2.0 by pretended he was a good guy all along.
However, regardless of his reasons, he has done so many atrocious things that the IC have no reason to think he's a descent person. Mor clearly hasn't said anything about what happened and, as much as I don't like her, she has no on page motive to antagonise Eris otherwise. That might change later, especially if she's the traitor, but as of now, her behaviour seems understandable, somewhat, based on the version of events that she gives.
Yet, despite all of this, the IC still think that essentially whoring Nesta out to Eris because it suits their goals. Regardless of the risks to Nesta's safety, regardless of how Nesta feels about the matter and and simply going off of Feyre's guesses about how Nesta feels without ever feeling the need to confirm if any of them are accurate to Nesta.
Let me summarise: Rhysand and Feyre, Nesta's own sister, thought it was a good idea to use Nesta's artistic passions to seduce a man that is literally 20 times Nesta's age, letting said man ask for Nesta's hand, and letting Nesta consider accepting despite the IC believing he is a woman torturing psycho that would throw her to the wolves at the first chance if it helped him in the end.
Let's not forget that while Eris may be bit of a grey area for us at the moment, the IC knows that Eris also lives with abusers, like Beron, who'd have no issue using physical violence against Nesta. So even if they thought Eris wasn't a monster for some reason, they'd still be putting Nesta in danger. Especially if Beron is working with the Death God, who wants the trove and is using Bryallin to find it.
Oh, and this was all after Cassian came to the conclusion that Nesta was suicidal, and was sexually assaulted in a vision, if I remember right, while on a life threatening mission in a place the rest of the IC, even Amren, is scared of.
Regardless of what Rhysand says, he allows abusers near enough to his family, or the ones he doesn't care as much about, I suppose, and is seemingly willing to let them marry said abusers if it gets him his goal. Rhysand who was abused. Rhysand who's mother was forced into child marriage.
Rhysand who seems to ignore the fact that the Archeron sisters are children. Children can't consent, if it wasn't clear enough to him already. Also, consent must be informed, and last I checked, Nesta wasn't informed about Eris beyond him being a snake. She isn't given a heads up about how abusive he's believed to be, how he may have to kill/watch you die if his dad decides so, or how he's likely to leave you bleeding out in the woods if you're injured. This is literally what the IC believe he is like and they didn't tell her.
Consent needs to be voluntary. I think it's been well established that Nesta likely doesn't feel like she can make real decisions because of consequences she may face.
He's also completely willing to send a suicidal (you can't argue that he doesn't know since Cassian reports everything to Rhysand, and kind of Feyre, apparently, from her Valkyries to her progress in 'healing'/being brainwashed so there's no reason he wouldn't report that too) into life threatening situations, put them in a place where they could jump to their deaths at any moment, with magic that could provide literally anything but alcohol, and filled with weapons.
To conclude, Eris is a grey area in ACOTAR that, at this point, reads as what Rhysand kind of should've been if SJM didn't make him a good guy for no reason. Meanwhile, this 'good guy' is endangering his sister in law through abuse, emotional blackmail and brainwashing, while putting her in proximity with a known abuser. Might I remind you that she's a minor? With possible developmental gaps. And he's doing it all because her being in danger makes his life easier, and the cousin that the dude abused is going along with this without any issue.
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hyuckiefluff · 4 months
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𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 | na jaemin
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pairing: roommate!na jaemin x fem reader
genre: smut
wc: 1.6k
summary: jaemin notices how innocent you are and he can’t help but take advantage of this.
content warning: loss of virginity, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, missionary, reader is very inexperienced, jaemin is pretty manipulative, usage of pet names (good girl, princess, angel)
a/n : this is not what i was planning to post next but oh well it’s here now! hope u enjoy it! feedback is greatly appreciated as always and happy new year! my new year’s resolution as a writer is to stop trying to write a million stories at once and then not posting any of them lol. also just realized this is my second time writing roommate jaemin hehe idk i’m kinda obsessed with him and this trope
pss: would you guys like me to post drabbles? i’ve been thinking about it but can’t decide, lemme know in the comments or my req/ask box :))
masterlist
Jaemin was so glad that you were clueless.
When he first moved in as your roommate, he immediately noticed you were too trusting… Letting a stranger like him move in with you without asking many questions. But the rent was good and the prospect of living with someone as pretty as yourself kept him from saying anything about it.
As he discovered the extent of your innocence, Jaemin found himself unable to resist taking advantage of it. He wanted to know just how much he could get away with.
So, on a particularly chilly winter night, Jaemin seized the opportunity and knocked on your door while you were cozily tucked into bed.
"Can I sleep here, princess? I think the heating broke down in my room," Jaemin asked, his head peeking through the door.
Even he knew that was a weak excuse. The apartment had centralized heating, so if it worked in your room, it definitely worked in his. But surprisingly, you fell for it.
"Oh, of course, Jaem," you replied with the softest tone, the nickname you’d given him already making him semi-hard.
He joined you in bed, keeping some initial distance. However, as soon as he noticed you in the skimpiest pajama dress, he felt himself growing harder in his sweatpants. You lay facing him, a sleepy smile on your face, your eyes glowing in the night light, completely oblivious to the thoughts racing through his mind and down to his dick.
"Are you okay, Jaem?" you asked softly, noticing him wince and shift a bit.
"Uhm... yeah, just... uncomfortable," he said absentmindedly.
"Are you uncomfortable with me?" you asked, your big eyes staring up at him.
"Oh no no, princess, it's not you. It's just..." he sighed, "Sometimes it hurts down there, and it will keep hurting until I do something about it."
It's amusing how he tried so hard to explain it, treating you like a kid despite you being his age, and ironically, the reason he was like this in the first place.
"Why does it hurt?" you asked, genuine worry in your eyes.
Contemplating whether to use your innocence to his advantage, he decided to take the risk. "Well, you see... whenever I'm with you, it kind of just hurts. It gets so hard, and I can’t handle it," he said, hoping you bought his act.
"Because of me?" you brought your hands to your cheeks, the action pushing your boobs together and making them practically spill out of your pjs "And c-can I make it better somehow? I feel so bad..."
Oh, clueless pretty thing.
"Of course, you can make it better, princess... you're the only one who can," he said, getting closer to your smaller frame. You didn't move away and simply let him grab your hand.
He placed it on top of his erection, "See how swollen it is? It hurts," you pouted, feeling terrible that this was your fault. "Will you help me fix it then?" You nodded at once, and Jaemin smiled. "Good girl."
He took off his shirt, and you were momentarily stunned by how toned his chest and abs were. You'd seen him shirtless before but never from this close.
"Princess, you're drooling," he teased, softly grabbing your chin so you would look at him.
"I'm not," you whined but still attempted to clean the imaginary drool off your face.
"So cute," he laughed, "will you take this off for me?" He pointed to his sweatpants.
"M-me? Uhm... okay," you said, and with shaky hands, you slid his pants down his legs. It was a bit hard pushing them past his bulge, and he noticed how this made you blush.
"Thank you, pretty girl," he pulled you back up, and now you were straddling him, only the thin fabric of your panties and his boxers separating your cores.
He experimentally rutted against you to gauge your reaction, and it was entirely worth it. Your face contorting, the way you gasped and made an "O" with your pretty plump lips. He never saw anything better.
"You trust me, right, princess?" he asked, his eyes heavy on you.
"Y-yes... I trust you."
He smiled and switched your positions, now hovering over your body. He caressed your cheeks, and then his hand went down until he reached the border of your PJ dress. He pulled it up until it was pooling right below your chest.
"So pretty," he said, his lips ghosting over your stomach.
"Jaem, that tickles!" you laughed, pushing his head.
"Princess, before you can help me, I gotta prepare you, okay?" He suddenly got serious again, his eyes with that dark glow you saw earlier. You nodded, your heart picking up pace when he suddenly hovered over your clothed core.
Then, locking eyes with you, he pulled your panties to the side. The abrupt shift from the cool air hitting you to his warm breath so close to your most private part gave you goosebumps all over.
Out of the blue, he licked a streak along your core. You gasped, nudging his head away. No one had ever touched you there, let alone licked you.
"You gotta relax, baby," he said, his voice so growly it almost had a purr to it.
Though he didn’t really give you a chance to relax. He latched his mouth directly to your cunt, sucking viciously, and the sensation was almost overwhelming.
"Oh my g-.. Jaemin," you moaned, the intensity taking you by surprise.
After a few minutes of relentlessly eating you out, he pulled away, his nose, mouth, and chin glossy with your juices. The knot in your stomach was so tight it could explode. But just when you thought he was finished, he inserted a finger. He explored your insides with vigor until he found that sweet spot, causing you to release a string of curses and curl your toes.
That was your first orgasm.
"You're ready for me now, beautiful," he said, planting one last kiss on your inner thigh before crawling until he was directly on top of you.
“… m’ so tired, Jaem..." you mewled.
"I know, I know... just hang on a bit more. You wanna help me, right?" he asked, gently moving some stray hairs away from your forehead.
You nodded, and he rewarded you with a chaste kiss on your lips. With a playful grin, he pulled down his boxers and even though you were spent, curiosity got the best of you so you peeked down. He was so big and thick; it startled you for a moment.
"Now, angel... tell me if you feel uncomfortable."
Jaemin was trying so hard to be gentle, but seeing you like that, all pliant and open for him, made him want nothing more than to fuck you hard into next week.
He pulled down your panties, amused by the way they stuck to you from how wet you were. Tossing them aside, he wasted no time positioning himself at your entrance. The tip was barely in, and you already felt overwhelmed. "I don't think it'll fit..." you said, but he seemed not to have heard, leaning in to kiss all over your neck and collarbone.
This distraction allowed him to go in more, and you held onto his shoulders for support.
"You're doing so good for me," Jaemin whispered against your skin.
When he bottomed out, he already felt like he would cum fast from how tightly you were squeezing him. He kept whispering for you to relax, and only when you did did he start moving at a somewhat slow pace.
"You feel so fucking good," he whimpered, his thrusts picking up pace and turning you into a moaning, writhing mess.
"J-j-Jaem..." you were unable to form a coherent sentence with how hard he was fucking you now.
"Fuck… I… should've… done… this… sooner," he grunted, his eyes locked on the mesmerizing bounce of your boobs.
"I'm… I feel so…" you whimpered, tears forming in your eyes as waves of pleasure crashed over you.
He could tell you were getting there from how your walls were pulsating around him. So, he grabbed your legs, hoisting them up on his shoulders for some deeper access. This new angle had him hitting just the right spot, and in no time, you turned into a moaning, sobbing mess. He eased into a slower rhythm, helping you ride out your second orgasm.
"That's it, good girl," he moaned looking at the scene between your bodies as your release dripped down from your pretty cunt.
After you came, he didn't pull out. He was the one wanting to get a little more out of this, after all.
So, once your breathing had calmed down a bit, he resumed thrusting into you, each one driving deeper than the last.
"Jae… I- I can't…" you whined, too sensitive down there.
"You said… you would help me, princess..."
And so he kept fucking you hard. It didn't take long for your third orgasm to creep up, your walls squeezing the life out of him again. Relentless, he kept going even after you'd cummed again, pushing until he felt his own orgasm approach. That’s when he pulled out right away, his release spilling generously over your lower stomach.
He collapsed next to you, both of you panting.
"Does it still hurt, Jaem?" you asked innocently, looking at him.
He smiled softly at you and gently caressed your cheek.
"No, princess. You made me all better."
Jaemin loved how clueless you were.
btw i’m not ignoring requests it’s just taking me forever to finish the other stories i’m writing so requests are on hold for a little bit, you can still send but it’ll take me a minute to get to them :(
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 5 months
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katsuki likes to bite you. it’s his weird way of showing you affection. whenever he feels like annoying you (because he can’t live for more than ten seconds if he’s not being a nuisance) but he also wants to you to know he cares, he’ll find whatever part of your skin is exposed and just—bite.
you don’t remember when he started doing it but you’ve never stopped him so he hasn’t stopped. he bites your exposed shoulder when hes walking by and your lounging in the living area of the dorms, he grabs your hand and bites at your fingers when you’re alone and he bites at your cheeks and nose when you get mad at him for ‘being mean’ and teasing you. to which he always replies with “you love it.”
“why do you do that ?” you asked randomly after he bit your cheek again while you were watching a movie in his room. he looks down at you and his brows furrow in confusion “ do what ?” he asks.
“ bite me,” you play with the ends of his hair a little, it’s been getting longer and he’ll complain about it soon(the only reason he hasn’t cut it yet is because you said it looked good on him) “ why do you that ?” he goes quiet for a moment, gauging to see if you were upset, was it suddenly bothering you ?
he frowns. lips already unconsciously forming into a pout when he speaks “ ya don’t like it when i do ?” he tries to sound self assured, but his question comes out whiny. you smile lightly at him, nosing at the underside of his jaw. “it’s not that, dummy. just wonder why you do it.”
his nose scrunches at the nickname but he pays it no further mind. he huffs out a little breath and looks away from you towards the tv screen, a pink tint grows on his cheeks. having to tell you why he does it suddenly makes him embarrassed.
“jus’ feel like it. f’ya don’t mind when i do it why’re you questioning me about it.” you feel his hand heat up from where he has it pressed against your stomach under your shirt, no doubt getting more and more embarrassed having to explain why he has this weird little habit.
you shrug, sighing and nuzzling into him a little more. you press a light peck to his neck and his hand heating up even more makes you smile “i don’t mind it, just never had anyone bite me before.”
“good” he huffs, suddenly pressing you closer to his side. a sudden rush of protectiveness washing over him “get used to it. m’the only one who’s gonna be doing that from now on, got that ?”
“alright” you giggle. you suddenly get an idea and you look up at him. “you wouldn’t mind it if i bit you, then ?” a teasing smirk appears on your face when he almost cracks his neck when looking down at you, wide eyed and cheeks absolutely set ablaze. he sputters and looks away, unable to keep eye contact as he looks to the screen again.
“knock yourself out.” he tries to sound indifferent but his voice cracks a little at the end of his sentence and he cranes his neck to the side a bit to give you more access. you don’t mention either. instead you lean closer to him and nip at his neck lightly. his hold on you tightens for a moment before loosening up slightly and he suddenly won’t look at you anymore. not even when you laugh and poke at his cheek, asking him what’s got him so red in the face. his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are so laser focused on the tv you fear he might burn a hole through it. he offers you nothing more than a harsh glare and a muttered out “shush.”
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csuitebitches · 7 months
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How to Wake Up Early
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I always wanted to be one of those girls who would wake up early, go for a run and be super productive with their mornings. The issue is - i really love sleep. Every time i would start a routine, i would eventually fail. I would wake up to turn the alarm off, think to myself “5 mins more” and boom- it’s suddenly 8:30 am and i need to leave for work in less than 1 hour.
Two videos on YouTube really changed my mind. One was Andrew Huberman’s, and the other was Jihyo, a k-pop star.
I came across Andrew Huberman’s video about dopamine, and somehow, it helped me to understand why the difficulty waking up early is so important. Now I’m no expert of neuroscience, but let me explain to the best of my abilities.
Dopamine is essentially the build up to the reward; it is not the reward. It is the satisfaction and happiness you feel (when your body releases), after you have achieved something that was painful/ required you to struggle a bit. In order to receive this reward, you have to feel pain, because pain and satisfaction are directly related to each other. Satisfaction without pain is useless and does nothing for you essentially.
That got me wondering: for me, waking up early is difficult. It’s painful. I dont want to do it. But if I do it, its my first win of the day. It’s the first challenge I have overcome of that day, and I always do feel amazing after. The dopamine release after the struggle of waking up and winning the battle of not going back to sleep is definitely there. I feel more confident because a) I have done the “right” thing b) selfishly, i can do something so simple that a lot of people struggle with c) it weirdly makes me feel more confident and like I’m doing the first step of being an adult right.
Jihyo’s video was quite random - she did some show where it shows her daily life when she’s not working. Parts of it made me feel like she’s unable to just relax with herself (probably because her body and mind are so used to chaos, performing, her girl group living together for so many years) so she busies herself a lot. I took the positives from the video; she’s extremely disciplined which I admired, she gets her chores done, she’s good at ensuring that her space is truly her space.
So I decided to build a relatively foolproof routine; but mind you, it does require quite a bit of willpower.
I’ve developed a habit of waking of waking up at 5 am. I head straight for a 30-45 minute meditation and then at least an hour long workout. I stack my habits that way; right after meditation, I put on my running shoes. I used to really struggle with waking up, even if I had to wake up late. This is the strategy that worked me, see if it works for you.
1. Reset your space the night before
This makes you feel less stressed in the morning and also genuinely makes you feel like you have your shit together. Put your clothes away, keep your bag in its place, clean up your desk, reorganise your make up and skin care products. You’re going to go to sleep and wake up to a clean space.
Make sure you define both your bedtime and wake up time. My bedtime is 9:30 pm - so i manage my chores, reading, dinner, everything around that.
2. Early dinner
I’ve noticed that early dinners help me sleep better. I’ve built the habit of casually walking for 25-30 minutes post dinner (not right after eating, after about 15 mins). I’m not walking fast to a point where I’m sweating and puffing, I’m casually strolling outside. During this time, I don’t listen to music, interact with anyone or my phone. I use this time to connect with myself and think about whatever I feel like.
3. No devices before sleeping
I don’t want to stimulate myself before sleeping, so I prefer reading before bed. If you don’t like reading, you can instead do your skincare, maybe revise some physical study notes, etc.
4. Using Alarmy app
This app is torture and I swear by it. This little thing makes you a solve a challenge of your choice in order to make the alarm stop, like math problems, puzzles, etc. I chose 5 math problems.
5. Keep your phone across the room
Don’t charge it near your reach. Keep it as away from you as possible.
6. Stand for two minutes after shutting off the alarm
Don’t allow yourself to snooze, or go back to bed. This is the part that really requires you to tell yourself: “i am not going back to sleep. I’m going to wake up and do the things I have to do for my own benefit.” Remember - the states of heaven and hell are not outside of you, they’re inside you. They are mental states. You have to fight with your lazy demon and tell him/her/whoever that NO; we are NOT going back to bed.
I charge my phone across the room so that forces me to walk first thing in the morning. To stop myself from going back to sleep, after i have shut the alarm off, i just stand for 2 minutes. I dont sit, or go back to bed. I stand and tell myself, we’re doing this. We’re going to wake up and have an amazing day.
Your mind is like a child with tantrums and mood swings. Your rational self has to discipline your mind the way a parent would to a child.
7. Turn a small light on
Not something that is jarring or overwhelming, but enough to help you start waking up. I turn my phone’s flashlight on and keep it on my desk.
8. Be consistent, even on weekends
The biggest mistake you can make is not being consistent. Your body doesnt recognise weekends, your mind does. Your body doesn’t know that tomorrow is Monday, so its time to wake up early. By staying consistent (yes, I wake up at 5 am on weekends too), it allows my body to develop its own body clock and not wrecking the system I’ve kept in place.
What do I do if I have a late night?
It really depends. Let’s say I come home relatively early (+2 hours around my bedtime) around 11 pm, and im in bed by 11:30. I’ll wake up somewhere close to 5 am, like 6 am instead. The next day I ensure I’m in bed by the bedtime I’ve kept for myself and wake up at 5 am again.
If I come home really late, like 3 am - i keep my alarm exactly 8 hours from that time. I need to get sleep, but oversleeping is an issue and that wont allow me to wake up early the next day. I want to get enough sleep where im rested for the day, but not excessively. Unfortunately, sleeping so late would definitely mean that i wont be able to fall asleep at my dot 9:30 pm bedtime, but i turn the lights off and get ready to sleep by then anyway, and mentally prepare for my 5 am wake up call.
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strangersteddierthings · 10 months
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"Whatever you say, King Steve."
It's the way Eddie says it, full of sarcasm but laced with an undertone of something that causes Steve to flinch and take several steps back. It's definitely an overreaction. Steve knows it's an overreaction because Eddie hasn't even said anything mean and they aren't even fighting. Eddie's just teasing him, like he always does, yet Steve's body has entered flight or fight mode and he feels gut-punched. He'd rather that Eddie would have punched him in the gut. "Don't. Don't do that."
Eddie's entire body language shifts. He changes from playful to concerned in seconds. "Do what?"
"Call me that. King Steve. Or-or some variation of my high school reputation. 'The Hair' or when you say Steve fucking Harrington like I'm some- some- some thing and not just Steve."
"You are anything but Just Steve, my liege," Eddie chuckles, taking a step closer.
"Stop!"
That does bring Eddie to a stop. Steve doesn't yell. He's not a yeller. Voice raiser? Sure. But there's a difference between raising your voice and yelling, and Eddie's just found out how the difference sounds with Steve.
"I- it's like everyone does that! Talks about me like I'm not- like I'm some unachievable thing. Like I've got a title or some shit and it's just so- It makes me feel-" Steve cuts himself off, unable to find the words he's searching for.
"You really don't get it," Eddie says, voice soft, placating almost. "How we see you? You're like, the kid's idol, you know? A monster fighting god or some shit. How can we not speak of you reverently?"
Steve doesn't know what reverently means but he hates it anyway, because it makes him feel- "It makes me feel othered. Singled out. Like you've all placed me on a pedestal I never wanted." That's the crux of it, he realizes. Having said it out loud, he gets why he hates it. His house is a museum more than a home, and it's filled with expensive, pretty things on pedestals of their own that are only for looking at but not touching. Not loving.
"Shit man, you've built that pedestal with your own actions. I think you deserve to be on it."
He's not getting it. Eddie isn't understanding what he's trying to say, and Steve doesn't know what words to use to get his point across. He knows, he understands, that Eddie is trying to compliment him. Trying to make him feel good or whatever, but the pedestal doesn't feel good. "No. You don't get it. I don't want the pedestal."
"Then, what do you want?"
"I don't want to be on the pedestal. I want to be on ground level with you all. I- On the pedestal I'm not- It's like I'm out of reach or something and I'm not. I don't want to be," Steve runs a hand through his hair, then tugs at it, frustrated that the words he needs won't come. How can he explain this? Defeated, he says in a small voice, "I don't want to be out of reach."
Eddie closes the distance between them and raises a hand cup Steve's cheek. He shoves his face further into Eddie's touch.
"I'm sorry," Eddie says, "I'm sorry I made you feel like I wouldn't reach for you. You deserve the pedestal, sweetheart. I'd climb any height to hold you, you know?"
Steve shakes his head because he didn't know. He had no idea that Eddie would reach for him when no one but Robin had ever really tried. (And even then, being tortured by Russians together did put them on an even playing field at the time.) "I don't want to be just another thing people look up to."
The hand on his face slides to the back of his head and Eddie pulls him into a hug, smooshing his face into Eddie's neck but that's fine. Steve doesn't mind it at all.
Then Eddie holds him in a hug and doesn't let go until Steve's the one to pull back.
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bettymylove · 3 months
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hello! I really love your work and I was thinking if you could write a one-shot of theo inspired by the song " Open Arms by SZA ". but somehow make it a good ending? idk 😓 ( like a slow burn or something ) reader had to let theo go but theo is kind of begging..? for reader to stay in his life and so on! idk if I explained it good enough but you can search up the song and take a look at the lyrics, you'll see what topic I'm going for!
thank you if your write this! you're an amazingg writer ‼️
never leaving
pairing: theo nott x reader
content: your insecurities push you to break your friendship with Theo, only to realize you were wrong all along.
a/n: hope this matches your expectations, I'm sorry if it didn't<33 (also I feel like I'm apologizing in every a/n)
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You could say that Theo took you in, he was the only person in your life that ever made you feel too comfortable. When you were on the train, he had befriended you and he never let his friendship falter.
Theo was everything, he was all you could ever need and it scared you how much you were dependent on him. You had never needed anyone, always doing everything by yourself but you could see that changing.
Friends weren't a usual sight in your life and Theo had changed that, but you still had your doubts and maybe that's why you had decided to tell him.
You always had a lingering feeling, that he was taking pity on you because who would willingly spend so much time with you, call themselves your best friend, he had no reason to do it.
You spotted Theo in the hallway along with Mattheo and Enzo. The former two were smoking, and Theo's eyes met yours, and he immediately threw down his cigarette, crushing it using the sole of his shoe.
His eyes stayed on you while yours diverted here and there, ashamed to even meet his gaze. You wanted to be with him, but he was ruining his life for you, he was way too enamored and you wanted to help him.
You reached the group and scrunched your nose at the nicotine smell, Theo noticed this and dragged you away. Why does he have to be sweet and make this harder? you thought.
"Theo, I-" You questioned yourself, he was the only person who knew you but it would be too selfish to make him stay, so you continued, "I don't think we should be friends anymore"
Maybe friends wasn't the right word to describe you two, you weren't dating but he never dated anyone else and it's not like you could. You always hoped it was because he harbored some feelings for you but that had been a foolish fantasy.
"Y/n, I'm sorry sweetheart, I won't ever smoke again, I mean this was the first time in weeks, I really am trying" what? he thought this was about him smoking?
"No, Theo it's not about that." you simply stated trying to make him understand about you suddenly pulling away. He stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something but really could find the words.
"You can't do this, you cannot wake up on a random day and decide to remove me from your life as if I'm a pawn in your chess board" he was almost yelling, Theo had never yelled at you nor had he ever gotten angry at you, it was always you being mad and him picking up on it.
You remembered a scenario from second year and how different times had gotten now, you had changed and him not so much but you guess it was for his better.
"Where's y/n?" The twelve year old Theodore Nott asked his friend and said friend just shrugged in response before saying, "She hasn't been talking to anyone."
You're mad, he knew you were you always shut everyone out when you were, falling silent and Theo knew just how to better your mood and so he headed in your direction.
Your flashback stopped when you saw a tear fall from his eyes, you had never seen Theo cry either, only once and that too not intentionally. He was showing every emotion of his and you stood there unable to think, mumbling a sorry before leaving him stranded in that hallway.
Theo was shocked, hurt, angry and was feeling all these emotions at once. He had known you for six years and you had left him in six minutes. He loved you and you couldn't see it.
He knocked on your door for the fifteenth time, and you finally opened it. Your eyes were red and puffed up, you were crying.
"Why are you doing this?" He asked in a small voice unlike the one he used in the hallway, he was scared to lose you.
"You don't need to take anymore pity on me, Theo, go live your life" you said with a sniffle in the end and your statement had only made him more confused.
Pity? he had never taken pity on you, and it hurt himself that you believed that nonsense. "You can't replace me y/n, I'm forever, no matter what."
You so wanted to believe him, you so wanted to be in his arms right now, you so wanted him to stop as he was doing right now but you just couldn't.
"I'm sorry Theo, but I have to" Those were last words to him before you shut the door and Theo couldn't sleep that night.
It had been 2 months, 18 days of you ignoring him and he thought he might go mad, you were driving him crazy, you not being there was so much worse than he had anticipated.
It was late in the night when he spotted you leaning against a railing, breathing hard, and when he got a bit closer he noticed you were crying.
He went to stand beside you, you flinched but then sort of relaxed when you noticed who it was. You laid your head in your hands and started crying even harder and without missing a beat or saying something spiteful, Theo took you in his arms.
It was much later that you realized that you could not live without him, he was your Theo. Your tears wet his shirt but he didn't seem to mind, he never seemed to mind.
"You won't leave again, would you?" He asked as if he knew you were coming back and he was right. "You could try, but this time I won't let you."
You smiled at him, god he was the only person in the world who would never make you feel bad about what you did, and you realise it was only your insecurities holding you back from him.
He kissed your forehead lovingly and hugged you even tighter, "I love you" he whispered, half hoping you didn't hear him, but you did.
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ddejavvu · 9 months
Note
can we get another part of spencer reid and s/o who bites their nails. it was very good and comforting. thank you
When Spencer sits down in front of you with two bottles of nail polish, one baby blue and the other clear, it's enough to tear you away from your phone.
He's smiling at you with that sweet grin of his, where his lips flatten out into a tiny curved line.
"Alright, I'll bite. What's the nail polish for?" You lean across the dining table, "You're interested in a makeover?"
"It's not for me," He reaches for your hand, producing a nail file from his pocket, "It's for you."
"Oh, yeah? Why's that?" You watch as he files down a jagged edge to your nail, one that you'd just produced a minute ago while gnawing on it.
"Nail-biters often find that painting their nails helps them to stop the habit," Spencer explains, "Because, well, one, the taste of nail polish is gross. And two, because it's pretty, and not a lot of people want to ruin pretty things. So manicures are a good way to help people stop biting their nails. I thought we could try it."
His grin comes back the moment he's done talking, and you adore the way he says 'we' like it's a problem you both face. You feel silly sometimes, unable to control yourself and stop biting your nails, but it never seems worth the effort to quit, so when Spencer joins forces with you to make it easier, you feel the love he has for you.
"I thought the baby blue would go good with that collared top you bought the other day," He muses, taking your sentimental smile as a response and ducking his head back down to look at the nails he's filing. He's shaping them into a rounded edge, and you marvel at how precise he's being.
When the first layer of paint goes on he blows it dry, lips pink and pursed as he looks to see how the polish dries. He holds it up for you, like it's a masterpiece and not your own hand, "Does that look like something you want to bite?"
"No," You laugh, "It's very pretty, Spencer."
"Perfect," He smiles, eyes twinkling, "That's because it's on your hand, angel."
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lorcandidlucienwill · 5 months
Text
The most disturbing things portrayed in ACOTAR
Victim-blaming: Lucien tries to help Feyre and gets physically abused by Tamlin as a result. Feyre then proceeds to call him a dog despite Lucien doing everything he could in a difficult situation. And we're supposed to...support Feyre on this? And Rhysand throws around words like "can never forgive" man stfu you prick.
Sexual Assault: The most disturbing thing is not that Rhysand sexually assaulted Feyre. It's that he's never held accountable for this and never even apologizes at ANY point in the series. There are so many examples but this is the one that is the most disturbing.
Double Standards: We have Tamlin locking Feyre up for her own good being vilified, yet Rhysand is championed for locking Lucien and Nesta up in houses for their own good. Huh? WTF.
War Crimes: What Feyre did to the Spring Court, manipulating the sentries with the whole Ianthe thing and basically getting them killed, then weakening the Spring Court rulership which resulted in all those villagers in the Spring Court getting killed, then laying the Summer Court bare to Hybern as well, are nothing short of war crimes. And...instead of feeling regret, we have the main characters saying "Hybern's actions are their own." Like bitch what? Hybern wouldn't have been able to do shit if it wasn't for you! Have some damn accountability! And the fact that Tamlin and Tarquin are vilified for this never ceases to irk me.
Grooming: Rhysand groomed Feyre. He made excuses for everything he did with trauma, then sent Feyre out to do tasks for him like she's some kind of weapon he can use. WITHOUT giving her proper information, there is no choice. And everything he does is constantly explained away, until eventually Feyre becomes his trophy wife. Rhysand basically assigns Cassian to do the same for Nesta. I'm holding out hope that Elain will be saved from the Night Court.
The pregnancy debacle: the whole thing with the baby having wings and Rhysand withholding information from Feyre is just...disturbing. Idc if you're not telling her FoR hEr OwN gOoD, it is HER life at stake and she deserves to know. They didn't even try to shapeshift her to try and save her life? Like why is everybody seemingly more concerned about the baby than the mother? Disgusting. And why is Nesta vilified for being the only one to tell Feyre? She said it to hurt her, blah blah blah. She also wanted to show Feyre that their situations are similar. That they're BOTH being shit on by the Night Court. And when she's close to a breaking point...Nesta is forced to hike a mountain? That is physical abuse. Also, Rhysand being extremely territorial putting a shield over her and barely letting Feyre go anywhere is beyond weird.
Suicide baiting: What Rhysand did to Tamlin in ACOFAS is nothing short of suicide baiting. And...only Lucien seems to really be that concerned about it? Like...are you telling me I'm supposed to be supporting Rhysand after he basically told a depressed male to kill himself?
Segregation: Separating the Hewn City from Velaris IS segregation, no matter what excuse you try to come up with. You can't claim they're all shitty people, since your bestie Mor comes from the CoN. So, there are good people stuck in the CoN unable to get out of their torment because Rhysand decided that only certain individuals are allowed in Velaris.
Performance Feminism: Establishing laws to help women and not doing shit to enforce them is performance feminism. If he's as powerful as he says, he can 100% stop wing-cutting and r*pe. But, he's a goddamn virtue signaler so he doesn't fucking care. The thing is, SJM could've handled these topics in a much better way and it would've been fine. But she completely fucked shit up here and it's crazy that some people don't see it. Part of me is still waiting for the final book where she says, psych rhysand was the villain the whole time. If so, I'll take everything back.
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luxaofhesperides · 1 month
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Ghostlight prompt: Danny and Duke being childhood friends, but Danny tells Duke the moment the accident happens and such cause he trusts him, only for Danny to go radio silent when giw decide to block the town communications in senior year.
So Duke-does he tell Danny he's Signal or not? Up to you-gets worried the longer no contact goes by.
Maybe the away game thing seen in other posts where the sports team still does away games and Danny gets enough good will with star or dash maybe and they send a message to Duke that's some coded phrase and Duke knows shits going down?
(yourlocalcorviddad, it's a side blog so didn't want to send from main sorry)
Danny is not someone who is on his mind a lot, these days. It’s to be expected, considering how distance and their double lives eat up all the time they have to talk. Really, it’s a miracle that they were able to speak enough to learn about their own individual vigilante work, especially with Duke bouncing around foster homes for a good portion of that time. 
They haven’t spoke in months but that’s normal for them.
Duke thinks he can be forgiven for not knowing something was wrong. He still won’t forgive himself for it.
“Danny��s gone?” he repeats, feeling numb. There’s static ringing in his ears, his entire world hollowing out.
The guy in front of him looks grim, unable to meet Duke’s eyes. Did he introduce himself? Duke can’t remember, can’t keep his spiraling thoughts straight in his head. “He’s gone. His entire family is gone and we haven’t been able to call for help because… well…”
“It’s those guys, right? The ones in white?”
“You know about them?”
“Danny told me. Danny told me a lot about what he did in Amity Park.”
The guy lets out a slow, relieved breath. “Good, then I don’t have to explain. Sorry, it’s just that it’s not something we talk about, especially out in the open. After the last few months, things got really bad. We know the GIW took the Fentons, but we can’t find out how or why and they’ve got us on a tight lockdown.”
“Then how did you get out?” Duke asks. Another arguably more important question pops into his mind a second later. “Actually, how do you know about Danny and… you know. The other things.”
The grimness on the guy’s expression fades away some beneath the sudden shame and embarrassment. “Oh, that. Well, I dunno how much he told you about his, like, daily life, but, um. I’m Dash. Baxter. I bullied him?”
Dash. 
Dash. That’s a name he recognizes. 
Danny’s complained about Dash a lot in the past. Since they were in middle school, really. Duke would always get mad on Danny’s behalf about how terribly he’s being treated, how no one would stop such obvious bullying. And every time, Danny would laugh it off and say in that soft voice of his, It’s alright, Duke, really. Having you care is more than enough for me.
It never stopped the bullying, though, but the way Danny talked about Dash changed when they both entered high school. He was still annoyed about everything Dash did, but there were less insults about him, less venting about every little thing that pissed Danny off about him, as if he just didn’t care anymore.
And there is, of course, the most memorable time Danny called Duke about Dash over the summer.
Hey, Danny, Duke had began, only to be cut off by Danny yelling, I kissed Dash?! Or he kissed me?! What am I supposed to do now!
And Duke, despite the jealousy he felt at hearing that Danny and Dash kissed, laughed so hard he cried while Danny yelled at him to be helpful. 
There wasn’t any discussion on Dash since, beyond a comment here and there about a funny fanboying thing Dash had said about Phantom. The focus of their conversations shifted towards how hard it was to be heroes or vigilantes, quiet reassurances that they’re both doing the best they can, tips traded about best ways to patch themselves up and get through the night. Sometimes, it felt like Danny was the only person in the world to really know Duke; all his pain and promises, his dreams, everything he was Before and who he became in the After.
He’s missed Danny, but the last message Danny sent him told him that things were getting rough in Amity Park, and to not call or contact him until he reached out first.
So Duke trusted in Danny and focused his attention in Gotham, putting his all into becoming a better hero, someone people can rely on. 
He thinks that maybe he should have fallen into the Bats’ bad habits of invading privacy to make sure Danny’s okay. 
Too late for that now, though.
“I know you,” Duke says after a long moment. “He talked about you sometimes. Come with me, we have a lot to discuss.”
Dash looks appropriately nervous, but he doesn’t argue. 
It’s a tense, quiet walk to the library where Barbara works. She’s stationed at the front desk when he arrives and greets him with a smile, eyes flicking towards Dash in question.
“Hey, Babs, got a private study room open?”
Her gaze sharpens and Duke can’t help the feeling of relief that flows through him, knowing that Oracle is ready to look out for him. “Let me check,” she says, turning towards the computer to click around a few pages. “Study room 8 is open.”
That’s the study room with a working lock and soundproofing. It also has cameras and a mic inside, but all the other study rooms have one too, just for safety purposes. Things could always go terribly wrong when people are locked together in a small room, and having video and audio evidence of what happened has assisted in more than a few cases. 
He leads them up to the second floor, past the students studying and the group of young children in the back corner of the library listening intently to a read aloud. 
The only occupied study rooms are those up front, closer to the stairs. The back rooms are empty and quiet, the perfect place for a little impromptu interrogation.
“So,” Duke says as he closes the door to study room 8 behind them. Dash sits down as if this is just a casual conversation, but the way his foot taps against the floor betrays his nerves. “Danny’s gone. And somehow, that lead you to me.”
Dash glance around, then leans closer to drop his voice into a harsh whisper. “The Guys In White got some insane upgrades a few months ago and forced every citizen of Amity Park into a surveillance state. The entire Fenton family is gone, but we all know it’s really because they want Danny.”
“Explain the situation in Amity Park some more.”
“Well. It’s like this: we didn’t take them seriously, so they upped their moves and got us trapped. No one goes in or out of Amity Park without good, verifiable reason. We have a curfew and we can be randomly stopped and searched for ectoplasm or exposure to ghosts. Most of the ghosts have left, but a few of the stronger ones hang around to cause trouble to get the GIW off our backs for a bit.”
“So how did you end up in Gotham?”
“I was invited to tour the college. And since outsiders were expecting me, the GIW let me go. But there’s definitely some that tailed me to Gotham, but I can’t find them at all. Even talking to you now is a huge risk for me.”
Which means they don’t have much time to talk before someone comes looking for Dash. His words, paired with everything Duke’s heard from Danny, paint a deeply unpleasant picture in his mind. “Are you going to be in trouble?”
“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s Danny we’re all worried about. He told me before he got caught that if anything happened to him, I should find you. Tucker helped us narrow down where exactly you are and sent you that text to get you to where we met.”
“What do you think I can do?”
“I don’t know,” Dash admits. “But Danny trusts you, and he needs your help.”
Duke was never going to say no to this request to begin with, but damn if those words don’t make him want to run to Amity Park without waiting for anyone else.
“Okay,” he says. “Okay. I’ll help rescue him and bring down the GIW. You should go now, before they get too suspicious.”
“What are you planning?”
“I got a couple of friends who are good at destroying government property. Trust me, you’ll see what we’re up, we’re pretty noticeable if we’re pissed off enough.”
“Don’t take too long then,” Dash says, standing up, “I expect a good show from you. See you around, man.”
And with that, Dash pats Duke’s shoulder and leaves the study room. Duke doesn’t follow after him.  He’s got a rescue to start planning, and the less time he wastes, the better.
In the end, it’s pretty simple. It’s not a hard mission at all when the time comes for them to act, but the amount of data they gather and have to shift through is daunting. But that’s more Tim and Barbara’s forte, so he trusts them to handle it. 
Together with Red Robin, Spoiler, and Black Bat, they hit Amity Park hard and fast. 
One night was spent learning the lay of the land and every station and lab set up by the GIW. The second night was spent burning it all down and tossing open cages full of green blob ghosts and a few transparent, weakly glowing human ghosts. Stronger ghosts, glowing brightly, joined them in a few places with battle cries and maniacal laughter.
They split up and took down all the bases and patrol stations on their own, sweeping through the city like vengeful shadows. 
By dawn, the GIW were in shambles, without any bases or equipment, and rounded up for arrest. 
Cass was the one to find Danny and his family; his parents were forced to create weapons for the GIW under threat of Danny and Jazz’s torture. Danny was locked up like an animal and studied. Jazz had restraints on, including a muzzle, and a bloodthirsty rage in her eyes. Apparently, she had put up the most fight and, while being studied for repeated exposure to ectoplasm and radiation, started biting people.
The Fentons are big names in this conflict. Tim makes the executive decision to burn one of his out-of-state safehouses so they can hide and recover in peace, then promptly moves them into it as soon as the EMTs give them the all clear. They’re gone by the time the sun is rising over the horizon, and the curious Amity Parkers that have gathered behind the blockade of police cars have to be reassured that the Fentons have been taken away for their protection, not for further abuses. Even then, tensions are high and the locals are clearly prepared to start rioting now that they have a chance to fight back.
As vigilantes, they’re not meant to interact with cops much. Perhaps it’s simply their experiences in Gotham that keep them at a distance, disappearing into the neighborhood the moment attention shifts off of them. Either way, Duke is hurrying out of Amity Park with the rest of the team on his heels, eager to return to Gotham and follow up on their own leads to make sure the GIW is properly gutted and dismantled. 
Duke heads off for the Hatch as soon as they reach Gotham, hoping to shed the suit and finally be able to call Danny. The guilt of not noticing how bad things had gotten rolls through his stomach, and more than that, he’s missed hearing Danny’s voice. 
The first few calls go straight to voicemail. Duke leaves a quick message asking Danny to let him know how he’s doing as soon as he can talk. 
Then he goes for a shower and to change into civilian clothes, prepared to make his way to Wayne Manor to let Bruce know how everything went. And hopefully distract him from his Disappointed Father/Leader Lecture about taking on missions behind his back, as if Duke can’t handle himself. And also because Bruce has no leg to stand on when it comes to this. He’s fully prepared to throw that entire lecture back into his face at a moment’s notice.
The post-mission exhaustion is hitting him hard and fast. Duke has to brace himself against the wall once he’s out of the shower, resisting the urge to just lie on the floor and sleep there until he starts feeling more human. 
Somehow, he gets himself into some sweatpants and a plain shirt, pulls on a pair of mismatched socks, and begins gathering his things so he can get to the Batcave. 
He’s in no state to be driving. Maybe someone would be willing to take him there?
Just as he reaches for his phone to thumb through his contacts and see who he can bother, it buzzes in his hand. Duke blames the way he jumps on his exhaustion, then blinks his tired eyes to squint at the name that pops up onto the screen.
Danny.
All at once, his exhaustion fades away. A rush of adrenaline runs through him as he scrambles to accept the call, already pacing around the room so he doesn’t fall asleep. 
“Hello?”
There’s a moment of silence, then the exhale of a breath that turns to static over the call. “Duke,” Danny’s tired voice says. “Duke…”
“You doing okay? I couldn’t get to you before you and your family had to leave and go into hiding, but I’ve been worried about you, man.”
“I’m good. We’re all fine, now. Fentons are strong, you know? We’ll bounce back in no time.”
From what he’s heard about Danny’s family, that’s most definitely true. He’s seen the pictures of walls Jack Fenton has burst through with his body. It’ still hard to believe that no one in the family is a meta, outside of Danny.
“You need anything? I can get it to you, just say the word. Anything at all.”
Danny hums, then asks with a playful note in his voice, “Anything?”
“Anything.”
“I need you. How fast can you come meet me? I’ll even pay for express delivery.”
Duke laughs, so relieved at hearing the lightness return to Danny’s voice that he feels weak in the knees. “It’ll be at least two days. I gotta sleep and debrief with Batman before I can see you. It’s gonna take some time to get out of Gotham again.”
“Maybe I can go to you, instead,” Danny suggests. “Fly over and be there is less than an hour.”
“Are you in any shape to be flying right now?”
“I’m fine! Already healing and everything,” Danny insists.
“It might be dangerous if any rogue GIW agents go after you.”
“Well,” Danny says, “That’s why I need to get to my knight in shining armor sooner rather than later, right?”
Duke bites his lip to fight back a smile, blinking his eyes forcefully to keep them from closing under the heavy weight of exhaustion. “Does that make you a damsel in distress?”
“I mean, I did need rescuing, so I guess? I’m not much of a damsel, but I could put on a pretty dress for you. It’ll be like playing pretend when we were kids.”
“Oh, man, I kinda miss those poofy dresses. I think I could still rock on, put it on top of the armor when I go out for patrol.”
Danny snickers. “Signal: the most well dressed vigilante in Gotham.”
“That’s me, baby!”
The last of the agonizing fear that’s choked him since he first talked to Dash finally melts away. Danny’s fine now. Everything’s okay; the GIW are done for and there’s plenty of people willing to look out for the Fentons. This will never happen again.
“Hey,” Danny says, voice suddenly turing more serious. “Send me your location. I wasn’t joking when I said I could fly over to you. And before you say anything! I do need it; Jazz and my parents are smothering me and I just need to get away from everything and pretend all of this never happened.”
The admission softens Duke, makes him shove away everything that tells him this is a bad idea, that Danny needs more rest first, that having Danny fly over alone and without warning any of the Bats fills Duke with anxiety. 
He does miss Danny. More than he can put into words.
“Yeah, okay,” he says at last. “Come meet me, Danny.”
He texts Danny the location of the Hatch before common sense tells him to be more careful with his base of operations. Not that it matters, anyways; if there’s anyone in the world he trusts with everything, it’s Danny. 
Then he sends the Bats a quick text saying he’s crashing in the Hatch and to not bother him until the sun is fully up two days from now. Oracle gives him a thumbs up emoji, which is a good guarantee that she will personally see to it that no non-emergency messages interrupt his rest and recovery time.
Duke has no idea how long it will take Danny to get to the Hatch, so he putters around, cleaning up the space and straightening it out in an attempt to keep busy enough that he doesn’t crash. Travel really takes it out of him. It’s one of the cons of being born and raised in Gotham: he doesn’t have the stamina to travel outside of it, especially when they were there and back in less than three days.
Thank god for Tim’s many motorcycles and his tendency to see the speed limit as a weak suggestion that can be ignored while on a mission.
Ultimately, the call of sleep is too strong to resist. 
One moment, Duke is sorting through files on the Hatch’s computer, and the next moment, he’s face down on a bed with his face shoved into a pillow. 
Blearly, he manages to pull his phone out of his pocket and send Danny a typo-ridden text that hopefully gets across the message of might be asleep so just come in, don’t wait for me to answer the door.
He’s out like a light as soon as it sends. The last thing Duke registers is his phone dropping out of his hand and falling against the mattress with a little bounce.
When he begins to wake up, something’s changed. As much as he wants to go back to sleep, awareness comes back to him slowly and Duke forces himself to claw his way out of unconsciousness to figure out what, exactly, is bothering him so much. Until he figures out what’s changed in the room, he won’t be able to sleep because he’ll be worried about someone breaking in.
His mind comes back online long before his body does. It’s only when he tries to move that Duke realizes he’s no longer alone on the bed; there’s someone wrapped up in his arms, body temperature a little too cool to be a normal human.
Blinking open his eyes, Duke looks down at the head of messy black hair and feels Danny’s soft breath ghost across his chest. 
“Danny?” he manages to say, voice rough with sleep. 
Danny hums and doesn’t move.
“Hey, look up. Let me see if you’re really alright.”
“Mmm, no,” Danny mumbles, burrowing his face into Duke’s chest some more. “‘m sleepy.”
A good argument. Duke is also sleepy. 
“Fine,” he says, “Check in the morning, then. G’night, Danny.”
“Night, Duke. Thanks for saving me.”
He tightens his grip on Danny, contentment burning warm in his chest. “Always, Danny. I’ll always save you.”
That’s why he’s a hero, after all. To save others, to reach a hand out to everyone the way he needed when he was younger. To keep the people he loves safe. To make sure Danny always finds a way back to him. 
This is what makes all the pain of this lifestyle worth it.
Danny makes everything worth it.
(@yourlocalcorviddad tagging to make sure you see this!)
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Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*
*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.
Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:
as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)
while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates
Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)
That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:
***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.
I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***
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Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.
But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?
Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:
C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?
Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*
Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:
A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice
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A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…
Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:
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C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?
He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.
Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.
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A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*
And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:
SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed
(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)
I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?
"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.
In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.
And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.
So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.
If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.
"Then nothing has to change, does it?"
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byoldervine · 26 days
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The Trick To Writing Filler
(TL;DR at the bottom)
Filler is when you spend a chapter padding the length of your story between plot-related events. Filler chapters have little to no impact on the overarching plot and can be self-contained, and thus in TV shows filler episodes are often reran the most as people unfamiliar with the show can casually watch without being confused without the knowledge of prior plot beats
So with the chapter being largely self-contained and acting outside of the plot, what do you use to make the filler chapter engaging? I’m going to use filler episodes from Avatar: The Last Airbender to provide examples
1. Worldbuilding. Zuko Alone depicts Zuko’s travels taking him through an Earth Kingdom village and becoming acquainted to the family that allows him to stay with them, especially their young son. He learns about what the Fire Nation’s impact on this village has been; destroyed houses, families torn apart, constant robbery and other abuses of power and injustices. And even after Zuko defends the villagers and his new friend, he’s venomously cast out from the village by even the little boy because he outed himself as a firebender. This episode explored the impact of the war on the people of the Earth Kingdom, the victims of war that have no involvement in it and no way of defending themselves from it
2. Character exploration. In The Beach, we learn more about Mai, Ty Lee, Azula and Zuko and how their own traumas and personal upbringings have impacted their personalities. For Zuko this is part of a turning point for him, but for the girls it’s more to understand why they are the people we’ve gotten to know over the seasons, especially Ty Lee and Mai. The episode also serves to showcase how Azula and Zuko are so out of place being just normal teenagers; Azula has no idea how to talk to her peers and no identity outside being Princess Azula of the Fire Nation, while Zuko’s hotheadedness and jealousy issues lead him to lash out and be far too confrontational and controlling for his own good. This episode isn’t really used to develop these characters, or at least not the girls, but instead explains and showcases their behaviours and the reasons behind them
3. Character development. Going back to The Beach, Zuko does indeed receive development rather than just character exploration like the girls do; he comes to understand that he’s not just angry at the world or angry in general, but angry with himself. This is a notable turning point for Zuko’s redemption arc, because he now understands fully that he truly regrets betraying Iroh and sacrificing his new start in life in favour of returning to the Fire Nation. He might not yet be fully decided on turning his back on Ozai, but without this moment I don’t know if he’d have gotten there, or at least not as quickly as he did
4. Relationship development. Sokka’s Master has a C plot of Aang, Katara and Toph all being rather bored and lost without Sokka’s presence. The A plot exploring Sokka’s feelings of inadequacy and uselessness in comparison to such powerful and formidable bending masters being contrasted with the Gaang unable to function without him already speaks volumes about their dynamics, but looking deeper into the C plot also shows how much value Sokka really does bring to the team; structure, planning, humour, a quick wit, strategic moves. The Gaang always supported Sokka and never seemed to view him as expendable outside of the occasional teasing, but having it acknowledged so clearly and plainly that they can feel a little aimless and flat without Sokka and being so delighted when he returns really shows us the kind of value Sokka brings to this team and brings us and the characters to further appreciate it
5. Downtime. The Ember Island Players depicts the characters taking a break to watch a comedic play based on their wacky adventures, only to be largely underwhelmed and displeased by how they’re portrayed. There are no stakes to this episode and barely any plot, just the Gaang taking a breather as they react to a bad play. This chance to relax and watch something inconsequential is just as important to the viewers as we’ve got the show’s finale in the next four episodes, which will be very plot-driven and intense. The Ember Island Players also has the additional viewer bonus of recapping the events of the show right before it all ends, giving the viewers time to reflect on the journey they’ve gone on with these characters. In order for the stakes to feel high and the tension to rise, there has to be downtime where there are low stakes and low tension; if things are intense all the time, the moments that are supposed to feel super intense will just feel average in comparison. Resetting that intensity right before such a big event while still acknowledging the looming threat coming soon will feel like the calm before the storm and allow your audience to soak it all up like the characters are
Wow, did I just go through all that without talking about Tales of Ba Sing Se? I’ll save that for another post if people are interested in more
TL;DR - filler provides a moment to breathe, reset the intensity levels the audience are experiencing and take a chance to step away from the external conflict (the overarching plot) in favour of worldbuilding and the characters within your setting. Small moments can amount to something big, and can help make large scale decisions or plot twists feel more build-up and in-character
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Arlecchino x GN Reader (SAGAU)
I kinda can’t believe that I’ve written 3 fanfics in 24 hours, after not writing for a year, but idk. I’m motivated and don’t have much else to do (except ignoring my bio homework) (send help, what the hell is osmosis?) I thought about writing for Pantalone next, but @nervouseaglelover requested Arlecchino and I am nothing if not a people pleaser. This may be ooc, but idk SAGAU is nothing if not ooc if we’re being honest. I’m starting this at 6'o clock my time, so hopefully it’ll be done by 9 or 10, if I’m being productive.
Contains - Arlecchino girlbossing, gaslighting and gatekeeping you, her being obsessed with you, mentions of death and murder, mentions of Dottore's head collection (don't ask, it came to me in a dream), tartaglia being beat up by Arlecchino for the second time in this series
Part one is here - the masterlist for the other endings is here
“Arlecchino?”
If you were being entirely honest, you expected a little more … decorum when you had called for Arlecchino. Not the veritable swarm of Harbingers that appeared in your doorway, the moment her name had left your mouth. All of the Harbingers, excluding the one whose name you had uttered. 
Tartaglia was at the front of the pack, to little surprise, with his eyes bright with curiosity and a liveliness you rarely saw through a screen. Tucked away to the side was Pantalone, who looked far more … weary than you had expected. His eyes, compared to Tartaglia’s, were bloodshot and dull, with an aura of tiredness radiating off him. You could faintly see the silhouettes of who you assumed to be Capitano and Pierro in the back, looming over the others, and Signora, who stood tall behind Tartaglia, eyes fixed coldly upon you.
You waited, expecting someone to explain why they were ominously standing in your doorway, eyes silently surveying you. But no explanation came and no more movements were made, they seemed almost fixed in your doorway, as though they were waiting for something from YOU. 
“Arlecchino?”
You repeated her name again, craning your neck to see if she was merely hidden behind one of her coworkers, concealed by her taller companions. But she did not appear, and you were beginning to wonder if she was not there at all.
Until a perfectly manicured hand reached through the flock of Harbingers and firmly gripped Tartaglia by his hair, dragging him away from the doorway as she stepped into his place.
“Tartaglia, it is awfully rude to be lingering in the doorway like that, not even bothering to greet Their Grace. Such impoliteness does not make a good first impression.”
Arlecchino’s sweetly poisoned words broke the silence, inspiring a string of curses from the 11th Harbinger and some muffled laughter from what sounded like the Balladeer, although you could not see him to confirm. But Arlecchino ignored them and turned to you, eyes soft and yet … hungry. Possessive. 
“You called for me, Your Grace? How may I be at your service?”
Her honeyed words and dark eyes had you entranced, almost unable to speak, to respond to her question.
“Oh, I was just wishing to speak to you…”
Arlecchino’s smile widened and she stepped into your room, spinning to address her fellow Harbingers.
“Well, you heard Their Grace. I will be … conversing with them, so please give us some privacy. I’m certain that you all can find something else to do with your time, rather than stand here awkwardly.”
The crack of her slamming the doors in the other Harbingers faces made you jump, but you barely had time to process it before Arlecchino started prowling towards you. Her smile was friendly, but the darkness in her eyes remained, making you nervous. At least, that’s what you assumed those feelings were.
“Oh, Your Grace, look at your hair! It must have gotten all matted while you were resting. Here, let me fix it for you.”
“Huh? My hair feels fi-”
Your words were abruptly cut off as Arlecchino sat down on the side of your bed, tugging you towards her as she wrapped her arms around your waist, pressing your back to her chest. One of her hands made its way to your head, but rather than attempting to fix any knots that may or may not exist, she just tucked your hair behind your ears. 
“Your Grace, I understand that you may be worried about those heretics who attempted to take your life. I would like to assure you that you are perfectly safe and that I am ensuring you will never have to worry about them ever again.” She whispered softly into your ear.
Still caught up with the whiplash of the hair, to the hugging, to the thinly veiled threats of murder, you found yourself rather unable to form a coherent response, instead choking out a rather unintelligent sounding ‘mhm’. But Arlecchino didn’t seem to mind, instead giggling softly at your lack of a response. 
“I’m glad to see that you are … unbothered by your attackers. My children are hard at work making sure you are kept safe, but knowing that you are already at ease makes me a little less concerned for you.”
“Your children? Do you mean the children of the House of the Hearth?” You finally managed to ask, only just now able to form meaningful sentences again.
“Indeed, you are very intelligent, Your Grace! My children are fetching the heads of your attackers as we speak, bless their hearts. My children are very devoted to you, I hardly even needed to make the suggestion to track down those pieces of scum. I have a great many heads already, if you wish to see them? I have made sure that they are well preserved, so you can gaze upon the mostly intact heads of your enemies without the fear of them beginning to smell.” 
“Oh! That’s … uhm … very kind of you? I don’t think I need to see any heads though?”
“Very well then, I will give them to Dottore to add to his collection. I’m sure he will find them a rather pleasant gift, although perhaps not as nice as being able to slay your enemies in person.”
While trying to cope with the second round of emotional whiplash in the last 5 minutes, mostly due to the unwanted knowledge of the fact that the Doctor has a HEAD COLLECTION, you turned to Arlecchino, hoping to inquire more about her ‘children’.
But instead, you found her staring at you with an uncharacteristically stern expression.
“Your Grace.”
“Arlecchino?”
She leaned in close to you, so your faces were only inches apart. You would have thought it was romantic if her eyes were not quite so severe.
“I am a Harbinger. But I am a devotee to you, first and foremost. So, should the need ever arise … Say the word and I will kill any of them.”
“Pardon?” You managed to choke out.
“You heard me, Your Grace. Say the word and I will kill any Harbinger, any Archon, any human or beast that you wish.” 
Arlecchino kept eye contact with you for only a moment longer, before smiling and releasing you from her grasp, standing as she did so.
“I believe I hear Pierro calling for me. Forgive me, Your Grace, I must leave you to rest now.”
“But I don’t hear anyone calling for you?”
“Oh? Maybe you were not listening hard enough?” She smiled sweetly and made her way to the door, her lingering words all that remained of her, despite your hurried pleas for her to stay.
“Sweet dreams, Your Grace.”
I actually wrote this in less then 2 hours, I’m lowkey impressed with myself. I know the ending is kinda rushed and vague, but i also totally see Arlecchino gaslighting you like that to get out of a convo. I had a really good time writing this, so I hope yall have a good time reading this! Probably Pantalone next? Idk, we’ll see. I’ve learned not to make promises about my writing anymore.
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sophistopheles · 3 months
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hey!! ty for posting about the article talking about continuation of aa. I don’t know as much about the production of aa5 and 6 but you mentioned a person names Eshiro being responsible for the “no spoilers” rule being replaced. what/who is that? just in general giving u the floor to rant about aa5 and 6 beyond what u were able to say in that post and ur hopes for the future 💙✨ ok bye! :)
hiya!! (post here)
So, the story of why aa5 and aa6 are so different to aa4 basically boils down to a change in the team making it (and Eshiro was part of this).
Most people know Shu Takumi wrote and directed the original trilogy of Phoenix Wright games and then worked on Apollo Justice (although the director was technically Mitsuru Endo, people tend to think of AJ as the last "Takumi" mainline game). After that, he left the Ace Attorney team to complete and release Ghost Trick in 2010, and then he became involved in the development of Professor Layton vs Phoenix Wright, which released in 2012.
While he was doing all of this, a "secondary" Ace Attorney team had arisen to keep working on the franchise - they had almost all worked on previous AA games and in 2009 and 2011 they were able to release the two Ace Attorney Investigations games.
The two most well-known members of this "team" are the producer Motohide Eshiro and the director Takeshi Yamazaki, and the fact that AAI2 is so beloved shows that they are by no means unable to make really, really good Ace Attorney games. But, with Takumi still busy with his other projects, and a good few years having passed since AA4, this team was asked to create a fifth Ace Attorney game in his absence.
This was, obviously, a challenge, and Capcom were likely in quite a rush to get a new mainline game out soon. Additionally, initial fan reception of AA4 was really not that good - many people hated the decision to disbar Phoenix in particular - and the game itself had many loose ends.
Eshiro, as the producer, decided that for AA5 it was better for the writers to not be held back by previous games, which manifested in what people think of now as the "no spoilers rule". This is why AA5 does not follow up on AA4, and likewise for AA6. Nowadays this decision is widely regarded as a very bad move, but on some level I empathise with it - AA has always been kind of reluctant to spoil past games, and you were always operating with the presumption that the player might be new to the series and wanted to go back to the previous games. Writing a follow-up that addressed AA4, while being acceptable to newcomers and not spoiling almost all of AA4's biggest twists, without the guy who originally came up with the story, would prove really difficult.
So they wrote Dual Destinies as a new story which followed AA4 but didn't really address it, and indulged in fanservice to try and restore the series status quo. It seems like the scenario changed a lot during development and they were pretty crunched for time, too - the final villain's models are apparently called FINALBOSS in the game files and completely broken if you look at them from any other angle.
After working on AA5, Yamazaki was apparently exhausted and didn't really want to make another Ace Attorney. Unfortunately for him, Shu Takumi was still off on his Sherlock & Souseki Victorian-Meiji Adventure, writing the Great Ace Attorney duology, and he wouldn't get done until 2017 when DGS2 came out.
Eshiro managed to persuade Yamazaki to work on AA6 by bringing him to conventions, and having seen the passion and overjoyed reactions from fans after AA5 came out, Yamazaki agreed to direct the sixth game, with Takuro Fuse (AA5 and 6's main artist) acting as co-director to ease the load. Some of AA6's cases were also created by guest writers; the SOJ artbook mentions a struggle for ideas, which explains the outlandish setting of Khura'in.
To the best of my knowledge (and I'm not sure this account is 100% accurate so anyone please feel free to correct me) this is why AA5 and AA6 are the way they are. Nobody is particularly to blame for how things turned out; there were just a couple of bad decisions along the way which has resulted in the games being looked back on by a lot of people with some contempt. Given the circumstances, I'm actually pretty impressed with how enjoyable Dual Destinies and Spirit of Justice are, even if they don't reach the heights of the trilogy.
Yamazaki left Capcom in 2019. Eshiro went on to produce Dai Gyakuten Saiban 2, and I'm pretty sure he's still at Capcom.
What all of this means for the next Ace Attorney title is completely speculation, but the short version of the story is that Shu Takumi has finally come back from getting milk Herlock Sholmes Jail writing other games, and seems to be getting hyped up by capcom as the "Director of the Ace Attorney Series". This makes it very likely he will direct and write the next Ace Attorney game. At present we have no idea what this means - he could follow up on AA4's story as well as he's able, he could write another Phoenix game, he might go rogue and write an Athena game, he might do something completely different. But the next AA game will likely be around the quality of AA1-2-3-4 and DGS, not another AA5/6 situation.
As for the producer, this comes from the November 2020 leaks (which was very real - it's where we first got the TGAA localisation confirmed), but the only thing we heard about their projected AA7 was that it would be produced by a guy called Yasayuki Makino. He also produced The Great Ace Attorney collection, and if you read his dev blogs from that release, he credits AA4 for getting him into the series initially, and generally seems to be a huge Ace Attorney fan himself, pushing hard for TGAA to get a worldwide re-release after its unimpressive initial sales (and look how well that's worked out...!)
That's basically the story. I think AA7 will be great, actually, but at this point I will literally take anything, Capcom please my family is starving
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starkeysmoon · 1 year
Text
CLUELESS
paring: lo’ak sully x gender neutral omatikaya! reader
warnings: fluff, intense kissing??
summary: you have a crush on lo’ak and he doesn’t know about it, or so you thought.
word count: 1.1K!
a/n: sorry for being inactive this past week. i’m currently working on other requests rn, so if you sent stuff to my inbox or messaged me i should be able to finish most of them during the weekend!
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if you were to deny that you didn’t have even a slight crush on lo’ak, you’d be lying to yourself. you just couldn’t help it.
he had such an adventurous spirit that drew you in. and eywa, his looks did not help with the new blooming infatuation that was starting to build.
yet you knew that there was no chance, he was your best friend. there was no way you wanted to risk your friendship over a stupid little crush you had on him.
no, you couldn’t ruin it, no matter what, you reminded yourself. besides, he came to you for advice for girls. so much to the fact you became his official ‘wing woman. ‘
yeah, maybe it annoyed you, but what could you do? he was absolutely clueless that you thought of him like that, right?
“(name!)” a familiar voice called from behind you, snapping you out of your thoughts. you turned your head in the direction of the voice, and you were greeted with a handsome smile.
“lo’ak,” you say, a smile forming at the ends of your lips before motioning him to sit down beside you, he playfully rolls his eyes and makes his way towards you.
“i’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he begins, as he brushes off the space next to you before he finally sits down.
your eyebrows furrow at his words, “and that is?” you gently press, pushing for him to explain further what exactly he wanted to talk about.
his smile turns into an all too familiar teasing grin at your words, which you know only means no good.
“you have a crush on me, don’t you?” he says, nudging at your shoulder, and chuckling lightly.
it takes you a good twenty seconds to register the words that leave his mouth, and when you do your eyes widen in shock. your heart begins pounding loudly against your chest and your head feels like it’s spinning.
how does he know?
you take a breath in, bringing your senses back to the present before you respond to him.
“no, i don’t.” you deny, shifting your attention to the surroundings nearby, preferring to look at everything else but him.
“alright,” he says, yet he can tell by your reaction you’re lying through your fangs. i mean, he’s known you since you two were little kids.
he shakes his head as he watches your demeanor shifts into a fidgety one. and before you know it, two fingers gently placed under your chin before your chin is turned to the side to meet his gaze.
your eyes flicker back onto him, to find his lips only milliliters apart from yours. your face feels hot, and a soft crimson tint starts to form on your cheeks at his motion.
it’s almost as if he’s fooled you. allured you into his tricks and schemes. he thinks he’s won but his eyes widen in surprise as you slap his hand away from your chin, and move your head further away from his.
“don’t do that!” you snap, rolling your eyes at him.
“why not?”
“because it’s not fair i don’t want to be your temporary happiness,” you huff, as you cross your arms and press them close to your chest.
“(name), it’s not like that,” he promises, his words sound sincere but you’re unsure if you want to believe him.
“then what is it like?”
“it’s like…” he trails off, unable to form his words at your question. he’s almost speechless, and unsure of how to answer. should he lie or be truthful? he decides on the latter.
“i like you, and not just as a friend,” he sputters out, his eyes widening at the words that leave his very own lips as your mouth hangs slightly agape in shock. flutters start to stream into your senses, your tail swishing gracefully from side to side.
he sees me the way i see him?
“i’d like to show you, if you don’t mind,” he says, his voice is low and whispers of promises you’re unsure you’re willing to keep. he takes one of your hands and places it into his own.
“okay,” was all you managed to get out in your stunned state but nonetheless it reaffirmed him that you’d be okay with what was on his mind.
his eyes flicker down to your plush lips and then back to your eyes. he moves his other hand back up to cusp your warm cheeks and gazes deep into your eyes asking for your consent once more, you nod your head and with your final confirmation, he leans in and connects his lips to yours. you almost melt at how soft his lips were and how they tasted right against your own.
jitters fill your body as his tongue skims along your lip, asking for access, which you grant. as you tilt your head to the side and open your mouth slightly, deepening the kiss in the process.
you place your hands on his shoulders, pulling him in closer. while his hand that was holding your hand glides down to your thigh, skimming it gently.
if you weren’t so caught in the moment, you would’ve heard a na’vi clearing their throat in the background. and when the motion goes unnoticed, a-familiar-voice speaks.
“quite busy now, aren’t we?” the voice teases, causing the two of you break from each other while panting and gasping for air. before turning your heads towards the voice. the na’vi’s arms were crossed, almost as if he was angry or annoyed yet his face held a calm and patient smile. neteyam.
your eyes briefly wander back back to lo’ak to find his gaze on yours, and unsurprisingly both your mouths agape. you both turn your attention back to neteyam as he makes a shushing gesture, “don’t worry, i won’t tell anyone.” he says, winking before walking away from the area.
“oh eywa,” you say, laughing in shock and embarrassment at what just happened in the last ten minutes. lo’ak chimes in on your sweet laugh.
“caught redhanded by my own brother,” he sighs, smacking a hand on his forehead.
“it’s a bit funny,” you point out, to which he merely rolls his eyes.
“definitely not,” he says, his tone serious. If it weren't for his tail swishing about crazily and the suppressed laugh that followed, you almost would have believed him.
“wait,” you trail off as a thought comes to your mind, “how’d you even know i liked you?”
“mom told me,” he admits as the edges of her lips curled up into a soft smile as he recalled the memory. you giggle at his words. “i take back what i said this morning, you are definitely clueless.”
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privitivium · 3 months
Text
angel devil w/ devil crush rambles/hcs, nsfw
only physical devil attribute mentioned is a forked tongue (not used for scenting ), no particular devil, no mentions of makima.
cw;; noncon touching, lingerie, overstimulation, subbot angel :p
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he didn't appreciate how outward and expressive you were. being part of the same division and all, of course you had to make conversation like a good guy, right??? but you werent the good guys. why are you treating everything like its so unexplainably awesome? to put it simply, he didn't like you. that much. however, there was still a small amount of like, trust. he's just ,,, shy in an awkward, apathetic way,,, he does commend you for not being so ignorant most of the time. more insolent, rather.. he thought your time spent on earth would be used well to be a more refined being, but clearly not...
"don't touch me." he would hiss, having grown used to not interacting with other devilsㅡespecially not used to one touching him.. you both took on a relatively human form, so it gets a little startling everytime you touch him.. you seemed to take it a little seriously, however;; seeing as his powers had no effect on you... your touch began lingering a bit longer than usual. you were a bit of a nuisance as he saw it. constantly poking at him, taunting and teasing... a bit annoying is all. "but i'm lonely." you'd complain, huffing. pulling away just to moodily cross your arms over your chest - he would roll his eyes, trying to ignore you as he tries to let himself relax.. not doing anything in particular, merely standing in existence..
and, to put it simply, you liked him. loved? or.. had a crush on him as someone, a kind human, had explained to you the feelings that you felt while meandering around him... you were one to explore your body, as it were natural. finding whatever captured your fancy - or rather, which thoughts made you flustered enough that blood started rushing toward your groin. incredible! first boner, as a human, in a human body, ( eons ago? )... it began to ache after awhile of merely staring at it after it risen,, body uncomfortably warm.. and then; exploring your body until you were trembling and seeing stars... you wanted to share this with angel, wanting him to feel the wondrous pleasure that you felt as it was notorious for couples. but could there be more?? you ask around, none of the other devils comprehending what you were trying to get at, until you asked a few humans at the library who directed you to books on human anatomy and pleasure... amazing! admiring him for the time being..
ㅡ"who is she?" angel points with his eyes, shamelessly toward the young human woman behind the counter of the small store, who seemed a bit too giddy for his liking. his grip on your hand tightens, just a smidge.. you smile widely and flick your forked tongue outward, cheekily - "she's a fan! can you believe it? she likes me..." you would say, hand squeezing angel's right back and beginning to swing your conjoined hands back and forth, a woman who was interested in you.. "she's my friend, lets me come around after everyones gone!" a human friend? are you kidding? keeping his distance by your side, staying away from the smiling woman,,, a disgusting feeling in his gut, feeling a bile in his throat and wondering why you were so interested in human culture such as this, as he lets himself admire the clothes hanging up on the wall in the dim lighting, hand still entwined with yours.
ㅡ"don't worry, we don't need supervision, angel.." you hummed gleefully, dragging him by the hand down the relatively empty street;; no one to gawk at you, that is for certain. having a particular interest in humans fashion, you decided to share this with angel.. whether he liked it or not. as he begrudgingly followed you, unable to pull his hand from yours,,, "where are we going?" he would question, a bit apathetic yet ever so curious as he stealthily admires the downtown area.. really, no one is around.. even at the time of three in the morning? it's a little unbelieveable, knowing how wreckless humans can get during these hours.. but he isn't one to immensely question everything..
"woah, look at this..!" you flaunt a piece of fabric that practically looked like white string on a hanger, excited as you look over at angel. excited to share your interest, is all. totally not to see him in .. whatever it is you're holding.. "don't you wanna try it on? it's so you!!" and then, promptly showing off your body after you dragged him into the dressing room, happily;; the woman busy at the front desk, going over her employee's schedules, definitely not going to bother you..
ㅡbody naked, stripped down to your flesh and dick promptly dangling inbetween your legs as you stood in front of angel, partially facing the mirror while you try and work out the damn mess of fabric. angel, shamelessly letting his eyes rake over your figure. the thought of we shouldn't be here echoing throughout his mind as something warm settles underneath his belly, his cheeks.. set aflame. you began posing in front of the mirror, a bit silly.. in a black, sheer mess of lingerie, before you were helping angel undress to get into something you picked out - all for fun, you tell him, lingering touch along his shoulders and arms.. hrmm.. something like that.
ㅡexploring angel's body in the comfort of your room of your tiny apartment provided by the higher ups. he was a little weirded out by your affinity of magazines with naked humans and tapes stacked by the TV and.. toys strewn about - catching his gaze, and immediately explaining to him what they were for,,, "pleasure," you simplified, giddily as angel takes the time to admire what each little gadget does... only having a few tapes and magazines only for practice, not for material for masturbating as one would think.. often using the image of angel sitting proudly on your girth, taking it with ease,,
a little nonchalant as you explain to his sobbing, writhing form, abdomen coated in his cum and the tip of his cock darkened red in comparison due to the apparent overstimulation you accidentally put him through after jerking him til he came twice in a row.. a little uncaring and utterly happy as you smile over him; fingers dipping inward just underneath his sack,, trying to follow what you saw on those tapes between those two guys... "yeah, you gotta make sure you're all nice and stretched so it's easier for me to slip in... it might be a second." since he was..,, tight. having a bit of a hard time of piercing him with your well-lubed up finger after merely circling his rim, giving him time to react before you began scissoring him - he cries outㅡfidgeting, trying to relaxㅡa high-pitched noise that was melodious. fingers pumping in and out, dutifully. quick, fast, eager to be inside him and feel the way his walls feel around your girth rather than your digits.,, he commends you for your interests, as you graze against his prostate with your digits.,,
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ㅡ"aren't these bodies great, angel?" you'd marvel, grinning as you feel yourself pulse inside him; breathless and marveling at his bare frame, so tiny in comparison to yours.. trying to make out what he was saying through his choked up voice and tears that you lean over and kiss away - his lips following yours before he grabs your face with his dainty hands, cupping your cheeks gently while shoving his tongue in your mouth messily, obviously having no idea what he was doing and simply doing what he felt was right... so pretty, you'd marvel, weirdly keeping your eyes open as you makeout, keeping him stuffed with your cock while you tangle your fingers in his light, dusty red hair.. he seemed to like it; the way he began tensing around you and trying to grind downward with a soft whimper,,
ㅡthe next time when you're out and about, he isn't too hesitant to hold your hand. it feels good, he realizes this like a magical epiphanyㅡin human bodies, so it's technically the same as touching... othersㅡand is sure to take advantage of it by constantly touching on you somehow! "isn't it.. great?"
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lowkeyrobin · 20 days
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Trevor Spengler meeting a ghost his age that is stuck as a ghost because they doesn’t remember their surname or how they died or where they used to live? Like all the ‘important info’ from their memories is gone? Headcanons or one shot? Maybe he was called to “evict” them from a residence and took them home to try to help them?
oh em gee YESSS YESYESYES I love the gbfandom cause yall r so creative ; also this sounds very familiar to frozen empire LMAO ; dw melody kinda slayed ; phoebe is definitely gay idc ; reader knows how they died but not much else, but dw it's for the plot. it's alright let me go by summerdrive is literally the final part of this lol ; also this is super long compared to my other works. I think its good though lol
TREVOR SPENGLER ; lost soul
summary ; youre a lost ghost with no way around the new way of life you'd found yourself in, and trevor is intrigued by you, and decides to try and help you out
warnings ; language, talk about car crashes/death due to car accidents
disclaimers ; set post-frozen empire, me not knowing wtf mannhattan looks like. there's a hilly kind of area near lincoln park bc I said so
word count ; 2.4k
masterlist
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The day progressed as usual for Trevor. Wake up, eat, chill out, wait for someone to call, go bust ghosts, come home, eat, sleep and then repeat it all again. Currently, stage five was in progress.
He sits behind Gary in the driver's seat, Phoebe at his side, and his mom in clear view in the front passenger seat. There was no speeding or heavy fight scene, just a calm drive out to a house just outside the main city.
Someone had called in a ghost, I mean, more like a haunting in Trevor's eyes. Nothing was being destroyed, but a very, very apparent ghost had spent the past week sobbing in the attic and banging on the walls.
As he lays eyes on them, he's mesmerized. Their aura is a light blue, contrasting the dark green, brown, and black hues surrounding the attic. They were like a match in the dark. He was attracted to them like a moth to a flame.
He stands on one side of the attic entrance, them on the other. He had to basically turn around to see them on the opposite side of the attic.
He awkwardly and shyly waves, seeing them look back at him, their face contorted to one of discomfort and shock. Tears drip down their cheeks and down onto their neck, scratches and bruises covering their opaque arms, legs and face. A light flickering movement trails down their arms and onto their shoulders and neck, resembling fire.
"Who are you?" They ask, a harsh tone in their voice. Their hands are balled into fists, hanging at their sides.
"Uh, my name's Trevor" He says, showing his empty hands for you, to get some sense that he wasn't here to hurt you. "I'm a Ghostbuster, we got a call that you've been banging walls and stuff..."
They look at him up and down, still thinking this Trevor guy wasn't very trustworthy.
"I just wanna help, okay? What does it take to get you somewhere safer and away from this house?" He asks.
They shrug, unable to hold eye contact. "I don't know why I'm here. I don't know how I'm supposed to move on, I just wanna see my dad again"
Trevor's face quickly morphs into one of solem, feeling the same way as you right now. "I can try and help you move on" He suggests, "Do you know how you... died?"
"Car accident" You answer.
His eyes slightly widened for a moment before answering. "Would you like to come with me? So we can help you move on? We have a lab not to far away, we can try and help you find your way to continue on"
Phoebe, who'd been listening in from downstairs, having been holding the ladder before, speaks up. "We can help you break the fabric and space in time!"
They slightly jump back a bit, not having known that Trevor had guests.
"That's my sister!" He quickly explains, shooting a glare down the ladder towards her. "It's okay, we aren't here to hurt you."
They step forward a bit, the two separated by the hole in the attic floor. They peek down at Phoebe, who gives them a little wave and smile. They look back up at Trevor, who gives them a reassuring yet unsure look, silently urging them to come with him.
"Fine. But not to be experimented on. I just want to see my dad again, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, that's okay!"
👻🕸️☆⋆。𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆。𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
Forty-four days that the lonely ghost had been staying at a lab where the somberly walked around, trying to remember anything other than their death. What were they meant to do?
They and Trevor had grown close, though.
He'd been working with them one-on-one nearly everyday, trying to figure out who they were, when they died, where they died. They'd grown accustomed to this talk, having it not make them grow sad or angry anymore. They became numb to it, they just wanted to move on.
Trevor made their time here worth it though. He understood them more than anyone else. They wouldn't even work with Lars or Lucky if he wasn't around. Lars would scold them and reinform that if they didn't cooperate that it would only take longer, but they didn't mind at this point. They'd like to stay and hang out with Trevor some more.
The same ripped jeans and sweatshirt they wore when they passed never grew any more deteriorated than it already was, strings and rips never mending themselves. They were still comfortable though, physically and mentally. That last day they spent with their father, they didn't know much about it, but their insides grew warm when they thought about or tried to remember it.
Hours and hours of work was rewarded with Trevor taking them out on a walk through the city and showing them the sights. They enjoyed it quite a lot, and didn't mind any stares or looks, just enjoying the time they were able to spend with the boy.
On one of these walks, Trevor brought up some good news. "I think we found your case, Y/n"
They look over at him, an eyebrow raised.
"We found the newspaper caption of the day after you died, it all matches up." He explains, pulling out his phone to show you a picture. "Car flips over gaurd rail near Lincoln Park, one dead, one in critical condition"
They nod, looking back up at Trevor. "I'm guessing I'm the one who died?"
He nods. "In the article it says your name, and your dad's" He hands the phone over to them, pointing the location as they zoom in.
"Y/n L/n" They whisper. "L/n"
He slows down the pace, seeing the look of pain in their eyes.
"What about my dad? Did he die too?"
He nervously shrugs, not having a definitive answer. They nod, handing the phone back.
"That's a great lead though, we can find out where he is. And maybe that can help us get you into the next realm, or whatever it is" Trevor speaks with reassurance. "I will get you there, I swear that on my life, okay?"
The two stand in front of each other on the empty sidewalk, surrounded by trees and cars passing by. He looks up at them, truth behind his dark eyes.
They chew at the inside of their cheek with a nod, wishing they could just hug him right now.
"Can we go visit where...." They speak softly, trying to ask a bit of a heavy question. That question should've been heavy for them, not him of all people.
He nods with a little smile, planning to go after they went out to eat, or, he did. Ghosts of their kind thankfully didn't need food, just being floating spirits trying to find their escape.
👻🕸️☆⋆。𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆。𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
The dusk had turned to night, the sun having set not long ago, the streets lit up by lights and the moon. The walk towards the crash site was silent while Y/n looked over the newspaper pictures a few times.
2021. That wasn't that long ago, yet it seemed like an eternity.
They approach the dented gaurd rail, right where the car must've flipped. Trevor hangs back, putting his phone back in his pocket after they gave it back. They look down the hill, seeing scraps of metal and tire rubber still laying at the bottom.
Their heart sank as they saw it.
Pieces of the scrap were clearly melted or burned, same with a few trees around the area, the bark charred black from whatever fire must've occurred. That had to have explained the fire on their arms, though they never remembered a fire. They must've died on impact.
Trev stands a few feet away, keeping quiet as he sees them just stare into nothing. Maybe they were recollecting memories or maybe their death or anything else in their life was coming back to them. He didn't want to disturb.
They look at the gaurd rail, sunken down to the ground. Some blood splatters still painted the backside, a little pool of blood staining the concrete.
They, with a smooth pace, walk back to Trevor, holding back tears.
"I want to find my dad. I want to know if he lived or not" They speak, pointing down at the blood. "Please, Trevor. I can't wait around any longer."
He nods. He nearly opens his arms for a hug but stops himself, remembering that he couldn't make physical contact with him.
"I'll come down to the lab tomorrow morning and we'll get to work, okay?"
"Okay"
👻🕸️☆⋆。𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆。𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
The sounds of clicks and keyboard taps echo through the lab. Trevor sits in front of the computer, typing all sorts of variations of their father's name and the city, date, etc into the Google search bar. Y/n stands behind him, watching with caution.
Thank God for True People Search.
F/n L/n, Age 55 - Lives in Manhattan, NY (917)-123-4567.
"Holy shit" The two whisper in unison. They both lightly smile, quickly getting back to the mission at hand.
Trevor clicks on the website, instantly greeted by a picture of Y/n's father. Underneath was his full name, age, date of birth, phone number, and city and state of current residence. Below was more info, like his current address, past and current phone numbers, email addresses, possible relatives, etcetera.
The second person below the possible relatives was a familiar name and age. Y/n L/n, age 17.
"Holy shit, that's you" Trevor states, moving the mouse towards the name. "He's- He's not dead"
They're silent now, staring down at the computer screen.
"What the fuck? I spent all these years thinking he was dead!" They say, slowly backing away from the computer and Trevor, hands on their head as they try and not freak out. "What the hell?"
Trevor quickly stands up, proposing an idea. "What if we call him, and get him to come here and see you?"
They're quiet for a moment.
"I'm scared"
"I'll be right here"
Silence.
"I think this is what will make you be able to move on, Y/n"
They're quiet again, then they nod slowly, taking a little deep breath.
👻🕸️☆⋆。𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆。𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
Y/n sits in the chair Trevor was sitting in before, leg bouncing like crazy due to nerves. The curly haired boy, who thankfully grew out his hair some, was speaking words of reassurance to them. It was already four in the afternoon, the days passing on and blending into each other for poor Y/n.
They couldn't even remember how many days ago it was that The Possessor scared the shit out of them with a chair.
Finally, there's a knock on the door, which Trevoe quickly walks over to answer. They felt like they were going to vomit, if they even could.
"Y/n?"
They quickly look up, hearing the familiar voice calling their name. They'd never felt or heard something so familiar that it instantly warmed up their heart.
Their father stands in the doorway, Trevor in front of him as he walks toward them.
The man walks with a limp, carrying his 200 pound body down the hallway. A bushy beard covered the bottom half of his face, grey hairs peaking out between it. He wore a baseball cap, hiding whatever grey hairs he had up there as well.
Y/n quickly stands up, laying eyes on their father after all this time. They felt their whole core begin to burn as they saw him again.
"Dad?"
He smiles, opening his arms. "Y/n"
They quickly run to him, then almost through him, forgetting they were a ghost. They wrap their arms around him, knowing the couldn't make physical contact. He does the same, arms stiffly heald around each other.
"I missed you so much" They cry, looking up at him. "I thought you died"
The two pull their arms away from each other. Trevor watches a few feet away with a smile.
The older man smiles somberly, "I almost did, Y/n/n"
"Are you okay?" They quickly ask, looking at him up and down.
He sighs and shrugs, "I don't think there's been a day where I've been okay without you"
The burning only became worse, nearly hurting them. They didn't know if it was good or bad but you wanted to enjoy this.
"I love you, Dad"
"I love you too. I'm sorry I failed you" He speaks, tears falling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry for everything"
"It's okay" They lightly smile with a chuckle, the action performed by their surprise, shock and happiness of the situation. "I'm okay. Trevor has been helping me try to find you"
He looks back at Trevor who gives him a warm smile and nod, then back to them. They were beginning the process to fade away. Tiny, microscopic pieces of them began drifting away like leaves against the wind. They look down at themselves, feeling the fading and numbing sensation.
Their father nods, seeing the look of 'I need to speak to Trevor' and 'I love you' mixed in their eyes.
They quickly walk over to Trevor, wrapping their arms around him, still stiffly holding them over his shoulders.
"Thank you, so much. I can't thank you enough, Trev"
He smiles, wrapping his arms around them. "Thank you for trusting me, Y/n/n"
They can feel their body trembling, feeling themselves fade into nothing. They hear and feel Trevor crying a bit, trying to hide it.
"Hey, it's alright, I'll be okay" They chuckle, seeing the boy wipe his tears away as they're no longer halfway-hugging.
"I know" He nods, "Have fun moving on"
They lightly smile, and look back at their father. They hold onto whatever memories they had with both him and Trevor, waving goodbye to both of them as they fade into the oxygen around them.
Y/n's father wipes his tears, looking at Trevor now that they're completely gone, for good this time.
"Thank you for bringing me back to my child. Even if it was only for a moment. I can't find the words to express how much I thank you for that"
Trevor nods, "It's okay. Thank you for bringing such a kind soul into the world, Mr. L/n"
"You can call me F/n, son"
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