#take care and you always have my blessing

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #angst with a happy ending #angst #grovel #jealousy

[deadsetobsessions]

Okay I got some sleep- here’s pt. 2 of my nightmare:

——

They spoke to each other as they moved, the surroundings that had egregiously attacked the group of heroes earlier easily parted way for his sister.

‘How has everything been, habibi?’

They talked to each other in a language known only to them. The rest of the Justice League team, the members of this mission: Batman, Flash, Superman, and Zatanna did not understand the signs, a feat worthy of his sister.

‘Alright. They are not bad. I like it here.’ He told her, eyes not quite wary but fear of disappointing her running through his small frame apparent all the same. ‘I would… like to stay.’

She ruffled his hair once more, wistfulness growing in her heart. How her little brother had grown. It seemed like yesterday she held him as a babe, swaddled in even more opulent green and gold silks than her own clothing. Now, he stood in front of her, daring to express his own thoughts with a domino over his face and strength of free will in his eyes. ‘That is good. I am glad you are happy.’

Batman lurched forward to stop her from touching Damian, only to freeze as his son accepted the touch without a hint of resistance. Even Dick couldn’t get that reaction, not without some grumbling and scowling. Who was this…?

The rest of team agreed to wait and watch. Part of it was strategy. Most of it was the wonder of a such Bat-like Robin being so open with someone.

‘Have you been here before?’ Damian, relaxed as she all but gave him her blessing to stay with father, peered at the local fauna as it bowed away from her sister. She shrugged, his katana sheathed on her back. She was at ease with it as he was with her blade, the training they did to get there unwavering despite the time they spent apart.

‘Sometimes. The tower we’re headed to, I often go there to relieve stress by training with the monsters there. They like to… attack everything that moves.’

Something told Damian it was more of a one sided massacre on his sister’s part.

‘Why would the magician hide there?’

‘It would serve adequately as a natural barrier, should he have a safe space put there ahead of time.’ His sister tilted her head, masked face still in the way he knew meant that she was thinking. Her hands moved. ‘Perhaps it was Grorgiantue that attacked you. He often goes there to experiment with alchemy and demonic remains. He often wears a maroon headband.’

“That’s him.” Damian confirmed.

“Are you going to clue us into what you’re saying, you two?” The Flash zoomed around the pair, skidding to a stop in front of them. Damian’s sister simply stepped around him, slicing apart a thorn bush that attacked when it got startled by the Flash’s speed. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as Robin scowled at him and the unknown ally spared him one quick, neutral glance of displeasure.

“No. Do not ask again, you eavesdropper.” Damian curtly replied, surly Robin mask back up.

“Robin.” Father reprimanded. Damian acknowledged it, but did not offer an apology. His sister remained silent and watching.

She’s relying on him to navigate these allies, Damian realized. His shoulders went back at the show of trust. He does not acquiesce to Father’s silent command. Had it been Richard… perhaps.

“Ouch, but still, if your… friend knows what’s up ahead, it’s be good to let us know.”

“We do need to take care of this as fast as possible, Robin. And we’re not the best team against magic.” Superman hovered. He would have gone and scouted ahead, but magical planes always had nasty surprises that he found extremely hard to escape.

“Speak for yourself,” Zatanna joked. Regardless, she looked askance at Damian’s sister.

Damian scowled and opened his mouth. His sister placed a hand on his shoulder and Damian sighed, readying himself to act as a translator. He knew she could sign in practically every standard sign language there was, damn it. She’s lucky he loved her enough to be a translator when she’s unwilling to socialize.

——

“Your sword,” Damian tried to hand her sword back. Her little brother, for a genius, was an idiot. She huffed, pushing the sword back.

‘Keep it. How will you cut through a magical tower without a magical sword?’ She signed to him, emphasizing her amusement.

“What about you?”

‘I must report back. I am... a bit late. I’ll see you later, habibi.’ She tapped her hand four times. A reminder that she cared about him. Before she disappeared through a swirling portal of mist grey and acrid blue, she saw him repeat the sign.

Behind her mask, she smiled.

——

“Who was that, Robin?”

Robin stared up at Batman. Damian Wayne stared up at his father.

“She... protected me.”

Not quite an answer. But it was an olive branch, to tell him who she was to Damian himself, but not who she truly was in relations to Damian.

“That’s it?”

“That is all you’re getting.” He replied, hands tightening around the hilt of his sister’s sword. Her magic hummed beneath his fingertips, the feeling of indescribable violence softening to a sense of protectiveness the moment the sword felt his presence. Damian respected Father. He might even love him. But Damian loved his sister first, and he would not betray her trust.

A new file is added to the database. Nightwing gets an update. When a familiar masked face pops up, Dick Grayson sped out of Bludhaven to interrogate his littlest brother.

And so the wheels turned.

——

“Tell me, granddaughter, what it is you truly think of me.”

Despite the conversational tone, she knew it was an order. The scars on her back burned, a reminder of another rebellion and the cost of failure.

There were many, many ways she could answer. All of them unpleasant. Yet, she must be pleasant. He must hear how she’d been broken, or else he’d keep trying to break her.

She tilted her head down, so he would not glimpse the hatred brewing in her eyes.

“I respect you, grandfather.” Because she did respect his ability to bend her at his will, for all that she hated him. It took a special kind of scum to be so cruel to one own blood. “I wish to obey your every order.” Because if she didn’t, pain would follow. But that wish was a temporary one, only in effect until she managed to kill him and come out on top.

Ra’s laughed, a warm and rich sound. Hollow, because he loved none but himself and so only reserved warmth for his own flattery. It sounded like the sharpening of a blade and it felt like balancing on a precipice. On one side, an eternity of torture. On the other, the pain of those she loved. Damian... and maybe, just a little, Talia herself.

"Do you love me, granddaughter?" He crooned, mocking and cruel, in a way one might ask a jilted lover. The reincarnation held her breath and answered. She will not lie. She can not lie, not to him. He had gouged the order into her tongue with magic and brutality. And so, she will not lie.

"No, grandfather. But I do not dislike you." The reincarnation said, soft as velvet. It was true, because what she felt for Ra's al Ghul was the cold, pervasive hatred. "I respect you."

"I see I've managed to beat some of that foolish sentimentality out of you," he said, taking a sip of his wine. Oh, how she wished she could slip poison in his cup. How she wished to make him choke on his own words, his own blood. But she could not. Not. Yet. "Alas, I can not undo the magic. I suspect you'll be serving at my feet for... quite a long time more."

She snapped her mouth closed, phantom rage hovering between her teeth. The world swirled around her, greens and purples, and the revolting touch of his hands on her.

No, she will bide her time.

She knelt, the motion familiar, on plush carpet that she could not appreciate. Luxurious cloth rustled in front of her.

And when her time comes, she will revel in Ra's al Ghul's agonizing death.

——

"Damian, you have to tell me who that is!"

Damian could be stubborn at times, he knew that. He worked with him on it. Damian was as much, if not more, Dick's Robin as he was Bruce's Robin. So why...?

"And for what reason do you wish to know her identity, Richard?"

Dick paused. He couldn't. He couldn't tell him. No one knew, except for that masked person. It happened so long ago- not long enough- and Dick could not wash the taint, could not wash the trauma from his brain, his heart. Whispers that sounded like Catalina surrounded him when he thought of that rainy night, telling him how disgusted his family would be, if they knew. Those things went away, now that he's pulled up the file on the batcomputer. The whispers fade a bit as he looked upon the masked face of the person who saved him. Just in time.

"For your safety!"

Damian crossed his arms, a look that spoke of an unbending unwillingness present in his eyes. Dick knew then that Damian would not tell him. "I will never be in danger if it's her on the other side of the blade."

"Come on, Damian, I won't tell B. Promise. Don't you trust me?"

Damian's face softened, and for a second, Dick had thought that he'd managed it. "I do... trust you." Damian struggled to say. "That is hardly ever in question, you imbecile. But to tell you would mean betrayal. And I will not betray her trust. Especially not for your personal satisfaction."

Dick wondered what this masked woman did for Damian to be unhesitatingly confident in her. He wondered if his own desperation meant something he had yet been able to put into words.

"For what it's worth, Dick, I think we should trust Damian and not pry."

Dick and Damian turned to Tim in surprise. Damian, because it was an unexpected vote of confidence.

"Woah, I do not want to hear that from you, Mr. Tiny Tot Stalker McGee."

"It's called preparation!" Tim said hotly back. Then, he subsided. "She, uh, saved me once. Back then, before I was... associated with Bruce."

"What?" Dick and Damian demanded.

——

Innocuous. The worst and best things always happened on innocuous days.

The beginning of her slavery began on a regular, if painful, sunny day.

The beginning of her freedom began on a regular, if painful, cloudy one.

She'd have to thank the little photographer later, she decided. His work all but forced her grandfather to rely on a handful of backup Lazarus pools only he, mother, and herself knew about. She stared at the green pools as her grandfather stripped to his waist to step in.

"Guard me," he commanded her as he stepped towards the pool. The sting of the command settled familiarly around her neck. “Once I am done, you will depart to force Damian or the detective back to Nanda Parbat. By any means necessary.”

It was his first time ordering her to hurt her brothers, past physical pain disguised as training.

His first mistake today.

That's the thing with her grandfather, she mused as she silently unsheathed Damian's sword. He was so complacent, that he could fathom her betrayal.

His second mistake. His last mistake.

Then again, it was her who lulled him into it, with the shows of loyalty and seemingly willing obedience outside of her magical collar's commands.

After all, he had commanded her to guard him. From outside threats, surely, but he hadn't commanded her to guard him from herself.

"You-!" He coughed as her- Damian's- blade slid in between his ribs and straight towards the other side. It missed his heart by a hair's breadth, Ra's having moved the moment he felt the blade. Truly, it was hard to beat a near-immortal's experience.

"Kill yourself!" He barked at her, clutching at his chest, trying to stumble towards the pool.

To kill herself, she had to remove the blade lodged in his chest. The magic urged her to follow his commands immediately with searing pain. But she's had over two decades to endure and adjust to it, to grit her teeth and learn how to move with the torture of being alive. So she follows it just to dislodge the blade. The reincarnation then, with the magic trying to break her, cripples Ra’s with two blows.

He collapsed, screaming bloody murder and slurs at her. Before he could say another command, she stabbed down and to the side, cutting deep enough to cut his voice box and spill his life-blood, his unceasingly irritating throat, over the craggy rocks surrounding the pool.

Then, she slit her throat with a cut that was a touch too shallow to kill her right away.

"I do not dislike you," she said, the pain easing as she spoke to him. The red she's taken from others now spilled on the front of her shirt. She stared at his enraged glare, vicious glee at making him choke on his own actions. "No, I hate you."

She bent down, twisting and breaking his arms with little effort. She patted his cheeks and raked a trail of pain down his face with her metal tipped gloves. Her blood dripped onto him, blinding his eyes.

Fitting, she'd thought. "No one will come for you, grandfather. But... I do have to ask," She looked down, voice tilting in the cruel way that he'd unintentionally taught her. "Don't you love me, grandfather?"

She walked backwards until she reached the edge of the pool. She knelt once more, a mockery of every time she's knelt for him.

The reincarnation watched his blood spill, the light leave his eyes, and the way his body stilled and the way his rage was stifled like he'd smothered her voice so long ago. She memorized it, because hate was an active emotion. But she was tired, and she wanted to rest. So she watched him die and felt nothing but peace.

Then, as she felt the magic take hold and tear her soul from her body, she tipped backwards and plunged her corpse in the glowing pits that awaited her.

——

It felt like drowning.

(did y’all know cats lay on your chest?? bro i straight up couldn’t breath bc of that)

Breathless. Corrosive. Freeing.

The Pit felt like freedom.

And she’d long forgotten what that felt like.

It tasted like shit water though, and suddenly she felt bad for everyone whoever swallowed some of the water here. She’s going to need her stomach pumped out after this-

Her thoughts were washed away in a haze of green tinted fury.

——

“Habibi.”

Nightwing slid in front of Robin with a well practiced flip. Batman emerged from the shadows, followed Spoiler and Red Robin.

“Talia. What do you want?” Batman growled. Talia ignored him, an uncharacteristic action that had the vigilantes putting their guards up.

“I… you know I would not ask this of you- I would not ask you to return,” Talia said softly.

“Then don’t.” Red Robin cut in sharply, bo staff at the ready. Talia ignored him too.

“But she needs you, habibi. I can not… I can not help her.”

“Who?” Spoiler asked, curious but ready to rumble.

“What happened?” Robin stepped around Nightwing, who made an aborted movement to try to pull Robin back behind him.

“Something terrible.” Talia al Ghul closed her eyes, a sliver of vulnerability and regret showing on her face. Robin straightened, fear thudding through his heart. What happened to ukhti, he wanted to ask. But he could not, not without betraying the promise of silence he’d made to her. “I… I have failed her greatly. And she was paying the price for it, this entire time.”

“Wait, is this about the masked woman?” Nightwing asked.

“Alright,” Robin- no, Damian- stepped forward once more. His decision was made. Had been made, the moment his mother allowed the rare instance of vulnerability to come across her face. “I’ll be going back, once…”

“Of course. She would not let me keep you, habibi. She knows you are happier here.”

“Then, let’s go.”

“Robin!” His family tried to stop him but Damian slipped between and out of their reach. “Do not!”

“I’ll be back,” he declared, like he was daring his mother to say otherwise. “Try not to raze Gotham into the ground with your incompetence.”

“I’ll kill Ra’s if something happens to him.” Red Robin pointed the bo staff at Talia as she and Damian turned to leave. He stopped an alarmed Batman when he tried to lunge for Robin.

“No need,” she threw back. Damian whipped his head up at that. “He’s already dead.”

And they disappeared into a whirling purple cloud of magic.

——

Snippets of reality return to her bit, by bit. Her mother had cautiously entered the pit with her guards- worried, no doubt, by their absence- and stilled upon seeing her father’s dead body.

She laughed, and dug her hands into the bodies of the assassins she’d trained until her nails dripped with blood and pieces of organs. She felled them, one by one, until only mother was left.

She’d attacked, like a rabid dog, until the green slipped and her mother came into focus.

“I killed him,” she’d croaked out. And that was what broke her; the smooth way air wrapped her around her throat where only ripping pain had existed. Her voice came out unhindered and recklessly so, without the tinge of agony carefully picking her sentences.

“I killed him,” she repeated, and set Ra’s al Ghul’s body on fire. “I killed him.”

Her mother stared at her, hands dropping carefully to her side. “Why?”

She smiled, teeth bared and bloody- oh, she must have ripped into an assassin with her teeth, how messy- and endlessly joyful. “Because he dared to chain me- because he threatened Damian.”

She broke, and she told her mother everything. No, not everything. Just, enough. At the end, when her back is bowed with pain and heart empty, her mother knelt before her and quietly, tremblingly, apologized.

“I am sorry, habibi. I…”

The reincarnation’s made a small, wounded noise and lost herself to the green.

——

Damian trembled with rage. With grief.

With regret.

He followed mother into the caverns, mind turning and whirling with everything he’d learned in the hour that had passed since he’d left Gotham. His sister’s inclination towards magic was incredibly helpful, but Damian wished that she had never had the cause to go delving into magic like she did.

He thought it was passion.

His mother had informed him of what Grandfather had done to his ukht all these years. She told him of what his sister had sacrificed so that he remained free.

“Every time she spoke to us, to tell us that she loves us… father had made sure she paid for every word with unceasing agony.” His mother had muttered, eyes more lost than he’d ever seen it. “The magic at her neck ensured that she obeyed unquestioningly or she paid the price.”

“She is paying the price right now,” he’d snapped at her.

“Yes.”

Damian had thought ukhti’s collection of magical tomes were a sign of her interests. He thought it was passion for a subject. He had even envied how she did not have to hide her hobby like he had to with his art.

Now, he knew it wasn’t passion. No, it was desperation; a scrambling for freedom, a wish for dignity, and the fear of the same restrictions being placed on his ukht’s loved ones- him and mother.

When he entered the cave, lit up by swirling, sickly green, he saw his ukht, drenched in blood and sclera, tearing apart another group of assassins. There were ashes and the smell of burnt flesh around them.

Her eyes- green, glazed, furious- turned towards them.

His mother tensed. His ukht lunged, pitted sword aimed at his eyeball.

But if there was anything Damian knew, it was that ukhti would never hurt him.

So he stayed still.

And she stopped. Blade a centimeter from his eyes, his sister stopped.

“Damian?”

How his heart broke when she spoke, confusion in her voice that sounded as if she had been screaming for decades and nobody had heard.

As Damian’s hand wrapped around her wrist and she dropped the sword, he morbidly thought that she might have been doing that. It’s not like they heard her, after all, not until she’d freed herself with broken fingers and steel spine.

——

Bruce paced around in the cave. With the disappearance of their youngest, the entire family gathered in the cave, the night after. Except for Barbara, who had been scouring the cameras and had prior engagements, and Cass, who was on a plane back from Hong Kong, the family watched as Bruce slowly lost his mind.

“Relax, B. Look, even Dickface and Timbers aren’t worried, and you know how they get.” Jason said, kicking his feet up on the table.

“Ahem.”

Jason quickly put his feet down.

“We know nothing about this woman! She could be a danger- she could-!”

“B, if it really is about the masked woman, I think we should give Damian some trust.” Dick spoke up.

“And what if they keep Damian captive?”

“Then we go get him, Bruce. Simple.” Duke said, yawning.

Whatever Bruce would have said next was cut off by the opening of the cave’s underground entrance, with an approving beep of a recognized and authorized entrance.

Damian stalked in, hands wrapping around the hilt of his sword like he was going to cut through the next fool who tested him. His face was in a frown.

“Damian. Are you alright?” Bruce rushed towards his youngest, only to be dodged.

“I need to break something. Then, we shall talk.”

Damian headed towards the training dummies at let out his fury. He let out his heart break. Splinters of wood and cloth and ripped padding laid testament to his grief.

Then, the younger brother of the true heir to the Demon’s Head turned around to speak to his chosen family.

——

Clarity.

Her brother, her fool, dumb brother who had just stood there as she tried to gouge his eyes out, had been exactly what she needed.

She avoided his concerned eyes as she muttered calculations under her breath.

“Ukhti, what are you doing?”

“Freedom, habibi. I am… creating my freedom.”

At his confused look, she made the signs for Pit Rage. He nodded and guarded her back.

Damian was so adorable. And now, now that there’s not collar around her neck, she could say that without awaiting internal agony!

Her mouth spoke the words she’d found all those years ago, magic flaring bright white and blue as the circle she laid down on crumbling rocks shuddered.

The magic soothed her frayed mind and seeped the poison from her mind.

——

“I have a sister.” He’d told them. He turned to his father, who had a blank look on his face. “An older sister. She is yours.”

“You fucked Talia, twice?!”

A scowl. “Keep your trap shut, Todd.”

Bruce felt his world shudder to a stop.

——

Her fingers, her left hand as her right was busy scratching absently at Damian’s head, found purchase on her back and neck. The skin wasn’t so soft anymore, time and scars making for a rougher feel.

There were worse things than death. Bitter, painful things.

Loosing her freedom. Loosing her voice.

But… there were better things than life. Sweet, gentle things.

Regaining her freedom. Getting revenge. Securing her family’s safety and freedom from the grotesque thing that wore the skin of a grandfather.

Her brother, tucked safely against her side, and a mother that finally understood.

“Come to Gotham with me,” Damian had suggested. She hummed, delighting in the way the sound came out with out the ringing pain.

But one does not erase two plus decades worth of trauma in one night.

Her hands came up.

‘Not yet. Mother will think-”

“It is a good idea.”

Her gaze darted up. Her mother’s eyes… softened. Odd. No… her gaze was heavy with guilt.

“It would… do you good to be away from here, my daughter.”

Well.

It’s not like she was opposed to that, at all, but still…

‘Two weeks. I’ll tie up loose ends… and I’ll go to Gotham in two weeks, if that’s alright with you, Damian?’

“Of course.” He leaned against her, hand clutching at her shirt in a motion that she wasn’t sure was meant to comfort himself or her. “May I tell father about you?”

Ah. She hadn’t thought of that. The pit really scattered her mind. She nodded.

——

“Why… why didn’t you tell me?”

“She asked me not to.”

“And since when did you do things people ask of you, demon brat?”

Damian scowled. It did not make his next sentence any less genuine.

“Since it was ukhti that asked.”

Tim spun around on his wheel chair. “Holy shit. So the masked person was your sister. No wonder you were so….”

Protective, they all finished the rest of the sentence silently. They all sat back to contemplate that Bruce had one more kid… and that Tim had met her before Damian was even born.

“So, why were you so upset, baby bird?” Dick asked, an odd feeling of both gratefulness and mild jealousy towards Damian’s sister- his savior, because holy shit- gathering underneath his heart.

“Apparently, grandfather put her under an enslavement spell all these years.”

“Damian… say that again. I- I must have heard you wrong.”

Damian closed his eyes, hating how unsteady and fearful his father sounded. He obliged, because he knew what it felt like.

“Grandfather put her under an enslavement spell and used her to further the League’s reach.”

Damian had wondered why he had encountered his sister so often while passing by grandfather’s chambers and why she always looked tired when she goes past those ornate doors.

Now he knew.

“Does that- does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes. She,” Damian’s hands gripped harshly on his forearms. He breathed in and out slowly. “She was… assaulted. Most likely regularly. To broker more favorable agreements. She could not refuse. The magic demanded complete obedience or risk the punishment of unbearable pain.”

Dick looked away. They had a lot in common. She saved him… but on her end, she was not saved. His hands itched to punch Ra’s al Ghul in the face.

“Fuck.” Stephanie cursed. Her eyes met Duke’s and Jason’s.

Tim’s hands stopped moving, eyes staring blankly at Damian. He should have tried harder to kill Ra’s al Ghul.

Bruce got up, trembling, and stalked over to the training dummy. They sat in silence.

“What else?” Bruce rasped. He hung his head.

“She was ordered not to speak a word.”

“But she… spoke to me.” Tim said. Damian felt an irrational flare of jealousy.

“Then it most likely caused her unimaginable pain as punishment.” Damian snapped.

“What do we have to do to free her?” Stephanie demanded.

“Nothing, Brown. She freed herself.”

“How?” Duke leaned in, expression serious. “Did Ra’s al Ghul free her before he died or something?”

“I… am not too sure of the details, but it involved killing him… and jumping into the pit.”

Jason stood up with a clatter. “She was in the pit?!

“Yes. I think… she might have died. I’m not… sure.”

Bruce closed his eyes, working on his breathing like Dinah had showed him.

“Is that why Talia came? Because you could stop her pit madness?”

“Yes. I- there-” Damian struggled to get the words out, the ball of upset sitting on his chest made it hard to breathe. “Ukhti would never hurt me. Unless it’s training, but even then, I am sure she fought against her orders to wound me.”

Dick nodded. Yeah. He would have too, if he were in her shoes.

“I… can ukhti come here to recover?”

“Of course. When?” It was at times like this when he appreciated his family’s sentimentality and ridiculously large hearts. Unhesitatingly kind, even when they should have been furious at him for keeping ukhti’s secrets.

“Two weeks.”

“Then we shall make adequate- no, better than adequate preparations. Master Damian, what were her preferences for food?”

——

She should probably prepare a gift. Multiple.

“Ukht.”

She tilted her head to show Damian she was listening.

“I am sorry.”

‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’

“But-”

She squeezed his shoulder and forced the words to come out. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have noticed.”

‘I did not want you to notice. If I hid things from you, do you think you could find them so easily?’

“No, I suppose not.”

She smiled at him and tapped her hand four times. He tapped his own four times in response.

——

The dream ended there, well, no, there was actually some more nonsense about a corgi, a room full of strings and slenderman or whatever but I didn’t include that part. There’ll probably be a part three bc I kinda wanna know what happens when she comes to Gotham to recover from trauma.

The oc, relatively well adjusted: *dies*

The oc, reincarnated and got fucked over (figuratively and non consensually literally): “yes, I should go to Gotham (aka trauma central) to recover from my trauma. Sounds legit.”

#Dick Grayson #dick grayson and his gatekeeper gaslight girl boss self #oc in dc #batman #damian wayne’s older sister #damian wayne #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #talia al ghul #ra’s al ghul #ra’s al ghul and the consequences of his actions #tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

[ninjakk]

A friend who, unfortunately, likes JC defended him a lot to me when I was first watching the donghua then read the novels. Perfectly honest, I thought he was a loser but my friend kept defending him for being able to pull the Jiang sect together after the LP massacre but...I don't know? Did he really? wasn't it more WWX's reputation that pulled the sect up and high? Is JC actually a good leader? I have trouble seeing that

Hi anon 😊

Ah yes, I have been there as well unfortunately!

Although I was respectful of their opinion, it seems we no longer talk haha 😆 Perhaps it was something to do with the time they claimed JC hunting down and torturing innocent people who used guidao was "just a baseless rumour" - to which I casually responded with proof it was certainly not a rumour. I mean, JC literally encouraged JL to kill them and feed them to his dog for a start 😂 I don't think that was a joke in the slightest lmao. Honestly, I didn't expect them to take offence at the evidence proving otherwise, since we enjoyed discussing the novel and debating such things anyway! But, hey-ho!

Hmm, the whole "restoring the Jiang sect to its former glory" debate is a major source of discourse between MDZS fans! I mean, JC did join forces with the Twin Jades of Lan and launch a surprise attack on the Wens in order to secure their confiscated swords. Which I have to say, I always found so hypocritical and two faced of him to do... You know, considering he not only unjustly blamed LWJ for everything that happened to LP, but even wished WWX had left him and JZX to die in the cave prior to the attack as well! And he calls WWX shameless...

But even so, JC seems to have worked hard in the three months WWX was missing. Attacking the Wens supervisory offices and hunting down WC alongside LWJ and the respective cultivators under their command. Even WWX praised his efforts when they were all reunited. So credit where credit is due, I guess.

That being said, it works both ways! WWX's efforts should not be ignored either - which I often find the case whenever JC is praised for his accomplishments regarding the Jiang sect. WWXs new cultivation path is what helped them gain an upper hand during the Sunshot campaign, he garnered much praise and admiration during the war - it was only in the aftermath that people began to turn against him, especially seeing the obvious lack of loyalty or protection from JC. But WWXs guidao most certainly helped rebuild the sect's reputation and enticed new disciples as well. JC even gave his blessing for WWX to showcase his cultivation during the Mount Baifeng night-hunt, in order to recruit even more disciples! So I agree with you, WWX's new cultivation path was one of the driving forces in helping elevate the sect to its former glory, perhaps even beyond.

As for whether JC is a good sect leader? Honestly? No.

Evidence would suggest otherwise, in my opinion. Some like to pretend JC is the beloved sect leader of Yunmeng - but that's far from the case. He's made the sect less approachable, closed its doors to the public and scared away those seeking help on matters he doesn't deem worthy of his attention.

The general public seem frightened of him because of his awful personality and the fact they have witnessed him torturing innocent people. His own disciples seem to feel like they have to walk on eggshells around him and be careful of his famous temper. He seems more focused on pushing JL beyond his limits and imposing his own insecurities on the poor kid than actually helping others with their problems. When he's not doing that, he's off hunting down his latest unsuspecting victims to torture and do god knows what to!

So no, I don't consider him to be a particularly good sect leader, his priorities do not align with what I (or I would assume most others) would consider as such. A great leader is able to get along with others and inspire their disciples. They should also be able to secure backing from the general public by being present and approachable when issues arise.

Let's put it this way - LWJ was given the title 'Hanguang-jun' a title befitting of how the public perceive him, righteous and willing to help others. JC also has a title, that of 'Sandu Shengshou', which is in relation to a Buddhist saying regarding the three poisons - the root of all turmoil. Certainly not a good public image to have! Even the general tone of anyone talking about him isn't overly respectful - people rarely call him by his courtesy name unless they are addressing him directly. Otherwise, it's his birth name, which of course, is highly disrespectful unless you are very familiar with said person. MXTX made a deliberate choice for the public to call him 'Jiang Cheng' instead, so it is certainly significant and shows us that he is not well respected or liked by the general public and even other cultivators! This is in the first few chapters as well! All in order to set the tone of how JC is perceived. I mean, even the narrator (which is of course a stand alone entity/person and not WWX as many wrongly assume) calls him JC instead 😂

Overall, I think JC did put effort into building his sect up again, but WWX certainly deserves equal credit for that as well. That being said, it doesn't alter the fact he's not a very good leader in the sense I would consider, and I think that's been made more than apparent in the text as well.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #canon jiang cheng #mdzs novel #anon ask #answered ask

[pommpuriinn]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪. 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉’𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝑒, 𝑒𝓈𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜

｡𖦹°‧ pairing ｡𖦹°‧ - idol!yeonjun x superstar!oc x idol!jungkook

｡𖦹°‧ synopsis ｡𖦹°‧ - a love triangle between Hollywood’s sweetheart, Korea’s golden maknae, and Gen Z’s IT boy. Estrella is a very busy woman never had time dating with all her photoshoots, movie offers, recording sessions, dance practices, and public appearances. As she’s doing a little world tour promotions for her latest mini album ‘You & Me’, and let’s just say that stop last a little longer and it becomes a little too interesting.

｡𖦹°‧ a/n ｡𖦹°‧ - this is an introduction to Estrella and basically a background check of her. The boys have not enter the chat yet, enjoy ૮꒰ྀི๑•‌◡<๑ ིྀ꒱ა

Estrella was born June 20, 1999 in Hawaii, but after 4 months her parents flew to Los Angeles and decided to live there. Occasionally, sometimes her and her parents would fly back to Hawaii to visit her mother’s side of the family since they originally from Mexico, but immigrated to Hawaii. There is still some family back in Mexico that just decided to stay back and take care of the house that they built long ago. While on her father’s side his dad’s side resigned in Peru where he’s from, and his mom lives in London where she’s from since they both divorced when Estrella’s father was a teenager. The trio also would fly to Peru and London so Estrella would still have a relationship with her grandparents.

Estrella wasn’t born rich her parents ran a restaurant in LA that focused on Mexican/Peruvian/Hawaiian dishes. Luckily, it gain popularity rather quickly because of all the different flavors and beautifully plated dishes plus it wasn’t that expensive so anyone could afford it. Some people even came just to see the chef (Estrella’s dad) because word on the street a new food place opened with amazing food and good looks. It wasn’t just the chef that brought the ladies over the gorgeous waitress/hostess (Estrella’s mom) brought the thirsty men in and made them spent all the big bucks on alcohol and their big dishes. Estrella always thanks her parents for the good genes she was blessed with.

As any kid that has parents that run restaurants they knew that once you get to a certain age which is still fairly young you must help around the restaurant. So at the age of 11 Estrella was taking orders which shocked some customers when they see a kid go up to their table and say, “hi welcome, what can you get you? Or do you want to hear the specials first?”

Working at the restaurant was truly a blessing to Estrella because since the restaurant was located in a busy street in LA many talent agents would come for lunch. Which is how Estrella booked her first modeling job for kids clothing even her parents booked little modeling gigs here and there, but they truly wanted to just focus on their restaurant than taking the entertainment world route. Estrella parents still supported her and they even celebrated in the restaurant, as Estrella got her first acting gig.

At the age of 14 Estrella met Megan Kim, who enter the restaurant after moving to LA from Korea. Estrella was singing while the restaurant was slow and it immediately caught Megan’s attention, “um, excuse me?” Estrella instantly stopped and hummed ‘yes’. “My name is Megan Kim and I’m currently holding auditions for a new artist in my new company I’m trying to build. Here’s the time and place for the auditions.” Megan was a bit too straightforward for Estrella likely, but she didn’t decline the paper flyer.

Her parents were obviously a bit skeptical for obvious reasons, but nevertheless her dad took her to the audition place while her mom held down the restaurant for the day. Estrella was nervous and excited, as they stepped into the small building. The room had about 10 girls with their parents the girls auditioning were all practicing their singing and dancing while their parents watched and encouraged them. “Aren’t you going to practice too?” Her dad questioned, as they took a seat. “I practiced enough already dad.” Estrella shrugged while looking at the girls. “I’m just making sure.” Her dad smiled knowing his daughter was confident.

Some girls left crying yelling, “I messed up! They aren’t going to pick me mom!” Others left with a poker face and a small amount just walked out with a small smile. None of those expressions helped Estrella to determine what’s in store for her during the audition. “Estrella Blue?” A woman finally called. “You got this mi pequeña estrella.” Her dad squeezed her into a hug with placing a kiss on the crown of her head. “Dad, not in front of the lady.” Estrella groaned, feeling embarrassed. The cute interaction made the recruiter giggle at the wholesome scene. “Ok, I’ll stop. You got this and I’ll be right here waiting for the good news.” Her dad gave one last assuringsqueeze on her hand before Estrella followed the lady.

Estrella sang a song she made with her dad called ‘Like That’ and while singing she was dancing to choreo that her and her mom help make. The song had everything Megan and her two recruiter were looking for in picking the girl they wanted. It has vocals, rap, and dance, “I think we have the one.” The female recruiter whispered towards Megan. “No doubt about it.” Megan knew she has star right in front of her.

Megan didn’t wait a second longer and brought Estrella’s dad into the room with them. She expressed how talented Estrella is and wants to sign her to her company, but Estrella would have to go through this trainee process like how they do it in Korea which is completely different on how they do it here. Megan explained her history in the music industry in Korea like how she was a trainee for many years and learned all the ins and outs of the system and how she debuted in a girl group, but soon left because of the bad treatment they were facing from their company. Her goal is to create a music company that isn’t toxic nor harmful mentality and physically to the artists along with creating music to heal the soul.

Estrella’s dad saw how happy her daughter’s face was hearing everything, so he made a deal with Megan with how many hours Estrella was allowed to train and that she wouldn’t be living in the building like how the trainees doing Korea. Megan was more than happy with the agreement and they all immediately started signing the papers.

Estrella stopped working at the restaurant since her new schedule was; waking up, eating a big breakfast made from mom, going to school, going to small building that still didn’t have a name yet, practicing vocals/rap/dance from different teachers that Megan, Sana(recruiter 1), and Daya(recruiter 2) knew. Estrella parents would take turns taking her to and from the company. “She’s working so hard.” Her mom sighed, as she watched her daughter sleep in the back seat. “I know, but this is her dream and look soon she’s going to be a superstar. Our Estrella is going to loved by everyone all over the world.” Her dad smiled at the thought of their daughter getting endless love and support from millions all over the world, including their love for their precious Estrella.

Debut date was rolling closed and closer and just four months prior the announcement of Estrella debut date, the media has been buzzing about the brand new entertainment called, Starlight Entertainment debuting an artist that went through the Kpop trainee system. With the height of BTS who enter the American music industry with their hit ‘DNA’ back in 2017 and continue to get bigger people were interested with what Starlight Entertainment had to bring with this concept of training. Starlight Entertainment did clarify that Estrella was not a Korean artist she is a Latin artist and will not be singing in Korean, at least not yet or whenever she decides to hit that route, but her style of performing is similar like singing and dancing. Along with her albums coming with photocards and different inclusions.

Kpop fans and locals were very interested how it was going to look like with a western artist. Many people started stanning the second the concept of photos were released along with little videos of trainee singing and dancing that went viral with the headline ‘Brand new artist debuting under a new founding company along meeting people’s expectations!’ Another thing that went viral was the new Starlight Entertainment building it’s still pretty small, but since it’s an all girls company that they decided to painting the small building pink, and with the little money the endorsers gave them they were able get a vintage look to the building. Which was aesthetically pleasing to people who would stop and taking photos of it and post how cute it looks.

Some pre debut fans would stop by and see if they can get a glimpse of the new artist, and when they do see Estrella they say that she’s more prettier in person, and about how kind she is already giving them fanservice. In no time Estrella debut happened on May 4, 2020 with a full album called ‘Introducing Estrella’ with the title track ‘Love Bites’. ‘Love Bites’ was a mega hit and climbed the charts, played on radios, people used the audio on TikTok while dancing to the choreo, and Estrella was asked to come on talk shows and radio shows. People fell in love with her kind and bubbly personality along with her undeniably talent, and visuals. Estrella Blue became the superstar her parents and her team always thought she was.

Album Cover

Tracklist

1. Love Bites (originally IVE)

2. Like That (originally BABYMONSTER)

3. Only You (originally VCHA)

4. New Dance (originally XG)

5. Perfect Night (originally LE SSERAFIM)

6. TGIF (originally XG)

7. I Do (originally GI-DLE)

#txt scenario #txt scenarios #txt yeonjun #bts scenarios #bts scenario #bts jungkook #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun x oc #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x oc #yeonjun imagines #Yeonjun imagine #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #yeonjun fanfic #jungkook fanfic

[ivaspinoza]

Does a writer love to write?

Oh, to be a writer! A poet, an artist. What a blessing — or a curse? I said this before, as a joke, that "writers are cursed to write, no matter what" happens or how long it takes between intervals. Writers will write. They might struggle, mostly inside their own heads, but they will write. And they will feel accomplished for doing that.

During my block time, I used to try and try to write, not because I had to, but because I couldn't help but to keep trying and writing the weirdest words, absolutely nonsense shit — until one day, I went back on track. Not writing was never an option. I tried to give up this, many times when I was at a bad place mentally. I felt that I wasn't a writer because I wasn't writing, but this only led me to this previously shared conclusion I keep as a mantra:

"I do not write because I want to be a writer, I write because I am one."

Some people will lick an artist's shoes and treat them as their saviour. This is the same type of people who might think having a degree makes them automatically smart, that every doctor knows what they are doing, and that artists are somehow a superior class of people. I was talking with my beloved @goodluckclove about it today (the main reason I'm writing this), about how being an Artist, or a Writer, is just another job, like being a Teacher, a Baker, a Parent, a CEO or a Janitor. Some artists will even tell you they had no "talent" at all, they just decided to commit and learn. I can draw and I always tell people that it is pure muscle memory. Just practice. Just commit.

But there is also that sparkle, that inspiration, that epiphany, right? That thing that art causes. What makes some works of art shine and hit you with eternal impact? Just practice? This is a long, deep, crazy, boring, infinite debate, but to me the answer is simple.

It's the soul.

That's why AI will never be able to do it. The soul carries memory, information, patterns, feelings, mysteries, and language (unspoken, holy, different languages, that we don't know much about). Some works are technically fantastic but soulless. Some are full of soul, but lack skill. However, the soul is always a part of it, as it is for a doctor when their soul shakes in grief after putting everything they had in for a 72-hour surgery just to lose their patient. Everything goes through the soul. Have you met a soulless doctor? I have.

What about a teacher helping a student to overcome their difficulties? A mother in a 72-hour labour to deliver her baby, with a father who didn't leave her side? Parents that actually take their time and energy to raise conscious, cared for and loved human beings? When a CEO thinks of what is best for the team, and comes up with a brilliant idea, instead of just caring about money? When a janitor makes a place clean and tidy for others, instead of neglecting it? It is not the job itself that is important, but the motivation, the intention, and the heart behind it. That is what makes it valuable.

Our trades will always affect the ones around us. Human nature is deeply connected to the desire to be useful and serve. Not to be stuck at this point forever, but to me, a big reason for so much pain and depression in the modern world is how self-centred our culture pushes us to be. "All about me"! Too much thinking in your head will make you crazy (I would know). But when we are useful, we find peace and rest from ourselves, we connect, and we are in reality, grounded in the present.

Will you love it every time? Nope. Not naturally. But do we have to hate it?

As an artist, poetess, writer, I can tell you that I didn't always love to do it. Sometimes, it was painful. Sometimes, it brings me physical discomfort or it can be disturbing because of my own limitations and issues — the artist himself is in his work (I will die on this hill, because of the soul). But I don't believe and I won't ever advocate for the tortured artist figure, for the "I hate being a poet", although I can't think I ever got these words from any poet.

"I hate making art!" "I hate my kids!" "I hate to live!"

I think it's time to wake up to the levels of desensitisation we have come to. These contemporary times unfold in absolute glorification of evil as if everything painful and ugly was "more artistic". We don't have to avoid hard themes and make it taboo out of them, but we do need a counterbalance. We also need responsibility and honesty when choosing our themes and our artistic or literary approach. And we do need to stop hating things all the time. We need a mature creative world.

It is easier and faster to break than it is to build. It's easier to hurt than to heal. Look around. We have almost nothing left to "break" at this point. I'm in search of beauty again. Out with lanterns. The beauty in you and in me. Not for the glorification of the artist, or of the art itself, but for the Love that keeps me going, that designed me for a particular job, and that I plan to execute in love.

"Let all you do be done in love", it's written. But because I know Love is not only feeling, even when I don't feel like doing it, I will go back into Love, into humility, and do it to the best of my strength. I will do it so that when I have the opportunity to serve someone by it, they feel love. We put our soul into it, and it's not an aesthetic, not a fancy ethereal trend; there is no need for applause. I will do it like that because in that doing is the reward itself, not in the praise or the prize.

All is vanity. Love is the reward.

#writers on tumblr #writers and poets #poets on tumblr #writeblr #poetry #spilled ink #creative writing #ivatalks #on writing #about writing #writers on writing #writers of tumblr #writers and readers #writers #women poets #women writers #female writer #female poets #poetess #novel writing #fiction #original fiction #writing advice #writing tips #how to write #writing help #thoughts on writing #writerscommunity #writer stuff #tumblr writers

[duahauuoplanh]

From the first day we met, my world has always been full of you.

#the end of an era #goodbye #the last 4 months were a lot to me #i did what i could as a supportive fan #best wishes for you both #take care and you always have my blessing #whatever you become #and also thanks everyone that has been reblogging my set believe it or not I all went through your tags and have some good time myself #I'll keep giffing cause this my coping mechanism #pleasure is on me #Junho #Yoona #King the Land #Lee Junho #always next to Junho #It’s Junho’s season now #2pm #SNSD #I put my heart into every gifset I’ve made #tình yêu tìm đến ta như món quà tình yêu đẹp ngỡ như nhành hoa.. #parallels

[artist-rat]

my old and new tes character Saima <3 she’s a combination of a couple of my prev. ocs!

#elder scrolls #tes #khajiit #oc: saima #i play / will be playing her in both eso and skyrim bc the 'worldstate' my sister our friend and i have... we just stopped caring lol #probably if asked to take time seriously it would/will be all happening around skyrim times but #we just have such great time running around together in eso building the stories #:') #she's from dragonstar craglorn originally #. traveled... met a pirate captain and fell in love w/ her and became a pirate as well... #is besties with a daedric cat creature literally called 'lockpick' <3 (collects mint for them) #... always keeps a diary and loves collecting books and tomes.. #once got to peek into an elder scroll (but only lost vision from one eye bc kept the other one closed <3) (shh i know it doesn't work like #that in canon but i thought it was silly and awesome for her lol) #...her birthsign is the serpent. most blessed and cursed <3 #BOW GAL! both crossbows and uh. the usual ones? #in eso her class is nightblade. i once did another version as a necromancer and it was rly cool too but decided to keep the nightblade #THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK of my gal <3 it's over now #oh. one more thing.! she/they #💗

[yoonstudios]

mom, i love him | ☁️ | for → @kimtaegis + @marvelousbangtan ↳ 5th muster in japan (cr. namuspromised)

#btshoneyhive #dailybts #purplearmynet #boongietrack #annietrack #userjeonjcngkook #trackofthesoul #heyryen #shirleytothesea #usersky #tusermanny #yoonkookclub #dailydaegu #cyphernet #tusercait #tusercelia #flytomyroom #myg #5th muster #my+gifs #[note to annie: hello! please accept this as a little (late) birthday gift <3 i was having trouble with ps for like two months but it's #working now and i want to make you SOMETHING but sorry it's not much– just think of me giving you a small box and a little angelic yoongi #pops out and gives you a smol hug lol #if that sounded weird i'm sorry i'm kinda sleep deprived rn lmao but anyway please take care of yourself and God bless you! 🤍] #[note to crystal: hii! i hope you're doing okay and that this lovely happy yoongi makes your day a bit better! you're a wonderful #person btw and yoongi is proud of you always <3 God bless you love!]

[dirt-str1der]

Love characterising nishikiyama as a booze hound drug hound meth addict high every day body mass 75% alcohol hands constantly shaking literally spacing out while driving fifty over the speed limit using elderly folk as speedbumps one hand on the wheel and one hand free to do more drugs and coming into work while functionally deaf and blind and he is still leagues more competent at his job than kiryu

#Yakuza loveblog #i dont talk about nishikiyama enough because im kazamapilled and hate him a little bit but im also kiryupilled and love him so much so you #see my problem? like i adore when nishiki is just. better in every way than kiryu and nobody ever sees that because theyre all too busy #sucking kiryus cock like okay nishiki had the rest of his life planned out when he was twenty and he was an extremely successful criminal #and getting himself noticed in many many circles then kiryu steps outside and gets into a street fight immediately and the entire tojo clan #surrounds him to throw cash at him like nishiki was actually doing so well for himself before his life was ruined. nothing is his fault #like i love just accepting that nishiki has one hell of a substance abuse problem and nobody cares enough about him to talk to him about it #and kiryu thinks its normal because hes the only one who can see that nishikis doing some great work out there so he must be doing #everything right. inconceivable that nishiki has any sort of ‘problem’ hes the real screwup and kiryu knows he makes life harder for himself #but he refuses to change because hes convinced that thats the only thing hes good at. like i believe that nishiki has a coke snorting #mechanic in game like harry db and without his coke buff he cant do as much damage like with it his output is on par with kiryus whos just #been blessed since birth by the violence gods. anyway kiryu is the only person in the world who thinks that nishiki is great do you get it #nishiki has lived his entire life in kiryus shadow and he doesnt care that kiryu has a natural charisma that he will never have. he has to #get out there every single day networking and socialising and hustling and nonstop landing interviews with cool magazines to get his name #out in the world while kazama takes kiryu out and drags him by the elbow to meet people like this is my son kiryu who has every disease and #everyone claps and cheers like i cannot stress enough how on top of the game nishiki is compared to kiryu. he has a car. kiryu doesnt even #have his own lighter. they are not on the same playing field and yet nishikis always trailing behind him because opportunity is always #knocking at kiryus doorstep whether he likes it or not and nishiki gets fed scraps and nothing else and hes the one with ambition he wants #the view on top and most importantly he wanted his brother there with him but nobody ... likes him ... nobody likes nishiki nobodys in his #corner he onky had kiryu and when he lost him it was quite literally him against the world. it always made me laugh how at the end of yk1 #harukas paying her respects at nishikis grave when the only time he ever cared about her was because he wanted her little pendant and he #(actually fucked how alone nishiki was he didnt even have his own fucking men to rely on he was basically working alone with someone he knew #was using him like ??? he was fucking desperate) anyway i really love to think that kiryu being nishikis only friend and the last person in #the world who thought kindly of him (barring like ... kashiwagi) was grieving terribly over his death and haruka being a sensitive and #sweet little girl took the initiative to ask about nishiki and i think kiryu would tell her stories every night of the kind of stuff he and #nishikiyama would get up to when they were her age. he would tell her how amazing nishiki was and how he always looked out for him how he #took care of his sister and how he would always be the one to remind them of impending birthdays and the like. nishiki cared about the #little things .. and he made kiryu want to care about them too but theres just something different between them because nishikis always #been a better person than him .. and he would tell haruka in a voice that sounded like he was begging her to understand that nishiki wasnt a #bad person.. though he did bad things he was a good man and he still wishes with all his heart that he could have done more to save him ...

[snixx]

*starts drafting a rant on tumblr dot com* *writes a few hundred words* *is overcome by lethargy and omg doesn't sleeping sound so much more fun than this because im never going to get everything i want to express down and it's gonna feel forever incomplete* *lets it rot in my drafts forever and ever*

#girlblogging.pdf #i am a sleepy first and foremost above everything #but yeah just did the thing again #my drafts are a hellscape #so many incomplete rants in there i appreciate people who can consistently write full on rants #i adore reading rants but theyre so much work. critiquing and being a hater is so much work #because you have to be so careful about not accidentally including/excluding some harmless thing you didnt want to target #i mean dont get me wrong ive posted a few of them too #they usually get like 2 notes lol but its more for myself i like having it written down somewhere so im not overwhelmed when someone inevi #- tably asks my thoughts on a topic #and its frustrating stewing in my annoyance #but yeah anyway #i like ranting into the void its so satisfying when i feel like ive gotten my thoughts out semi fully somewhere #like processing all my thoughts takes away that power they have to frustrate me because i know im annoyed but cant fully express why #but yeah i am bad at completing them. thats the drawback of not being able to stay angry for long the sleepy always overpowers the rage #its a blessing and a curse #blessing cause im mostly pretty chill #curse because it WILL comeback to annoy me later if i dont fully process it

[oddcne]

Claws my way onto the dash after a million years just to rasp into the megaphone: fck american healthcare, all my homies hate american healthcare

#[ hello hello and sorry for my absence on here i have simply been fivehead deep in the suffering pit] #[ the fact everyone in my house has covid. i have all the symptoms minus loss of taste and smell. take tests and theyre all negative] #[ get a major sore throat to the point i think its strep- which i have always gotten very very easily ] #[ go to the urgent care only to get a mumbling wannabe comedian in a white coat who dismisses me at every turn] #[ guy makes very tasteful ‘jokes’ blaming me for being the one to bring cvid into the house. that even my mom. the carrier. had to step in] #[‘ we’re pretty confident i got it from a coworker!’ ‘ no matter what you say im blaming nore over here haha’] #[ then proceeds to make a pass at her and sends me on my way with an ‘ aw bud. it sucks. nothing i cant give you. drink water!’ ] #[ so safe to say ill be absent for a while longer . god bless merica ahhssj ] #tbd

[chut-je-dors]

Aw, I was rereading ten minutes and commenting every chapter, but then life happened and I forgot, sorry! Just know that you're an amazing writer and I will wait for new chapters as long as it takes. Take your time, and know that there's definitely someone who will read and love your writing!

oh it was lovely getting your comments on every chapter, me and puck were absolutely chuffed about it! and don't worry - life happening is the reason why we haven't been updating, so you really don't have any need to apologise! I get you <3

thank you!! i really hope to get the next chapter of ten minutes (and all the others) done sooner than later. i really miss sitting down with a pot of tea and then just, writing for hours on end. i just don't have the time... but some day i will! thank you for waiting, and sorry for making you wait!!

#(i'm back to living with my parents for some months and my god) #(someone is talking to me ALL THE TIME) #this morning too i was sititng here with my crappy laptop trying to concentrate on writing and mum was constantly talking to me #but like also i can't concentrate on writing in this house unless i'm sitting at the kitchen table???? #so????? #but i'm figuring it out. gonna try to squeeze in some writing hours during the week from now on #(i'm just always so knackered after work and i have the dog to take care of - and then my other job i do from home) #(that afterwards i just can't bring myself to do anything creative anymore) #oh boy #i wonder if people would be into my sims story cos THAT?? that advances at a fairly good pace #hahah #anonymous #answered #bless you!!!! <3333

[tautozhone]

idk how to start this so this post is ab individual action, trying to motivate positive change in the world, etc etc

a lot of growing up in the US for me makes things feel more scary than they are. like it’s actually not that difficult to go out of your way to get a bottle of water or iced cup of water from some random drive through if you think you should do it. either fast food conglomerate or local actually, it’ll usually be cheaper than 5 dollars to get drinkable water. i try to have 5-10 dollars i can justify spending on water, and asking for change, because sometimes when i’m out driving i need to go grab water.

i do not do this for me as much as i try to do it specifically when i see someone who’s most likely homeless on a street corner. i’m sure one day i might do this and they might not be there when i come back, but what have i lost really? a bit of time and a bit of money that would’ve meant more to them, that i can hold onto until i see them next.

the pressure that a lot of people feel when they think “what can i do” comes from this grand narrative that the average citizen can singlehandedly fix the housing crisis. rich people? maybe. nonprofits? not in a day, not all one person still. what can i do is a question i ask a lot. what can i do, not just because it feels bad to move along like nothings wrong with the world, but what can i do that will do anything. what can i do that makes even the smallest change.

i feel like it took me too long to figure out a personal method to what i consider individual action. it’s taking time to get to my own financial stability to be able to do more. but for now it’s as simple as water and cash. not water and food, but water and cash.

individual action means a lot in small steps, go get a bottle of water bare minimum and the price of a meal if you can and then just give it to them. if it wasn’t such a miserably hot place where i live i would keep a pack of water in my car, which i still want to do for the sake of having immediate access to water to give someone who might need it- hot or cold sometimes won’t matter. but when it’s hot out, get cold water, if it’s cold out, a warm tea will hydrate more than coffee will as long as it’s not super caffeinated.

#very genuinely i’ve always felt paralyzed by the idea i cannot doing anything to help and on the grand scale i kind of can’t #i can’t give someone a house to stay in where i could take care of the space enough to get someone back on their own feet #but i can give someone water and some money for whatever they need #one day i’ll be able to do more but for now. water bottles and cash. #what i want to say here is everyone knows bare necessities and everyone knows ways to get them #i also have an opinion that you should sit with and hold the harsh feeling of seeing the world fall apart and help people survive anyway #idfk man #i’ve met some extremely fucking jaded people in my time at college who seem to have no way to piece together that they can do SOMETHING #one of my classmates once complained about feeling bad about not doing anything for a guy on a corner and i recognized who #because i’d seen him too and done nothing at least 5 times before one day on the way home i gave him all the cash i had on me #she’d said she’d do more if she wasn’t so scared and anxious of being hurt. i don’t see how he could even look harmful or dangerous #he blessed me and offered a hug and asked me to have a good day and said thank you and i still can’t see why she was scared of him #at the same time i hadn’t done anything until i saw myself in someone else and thought it looked nasty. looked uncaring. #i saw him again today and gave him a water bottle and all the cash i had on me. i told him the weather seemed hot #he agreed with me and he took the bottle of water #i think i interrupted him opening it to hand him the rest #he got up and he blessed me again #offered a hug and more thank you’s and it’s so simple but i felt us both human in that moment. talking about the weather in a brief exchange #wishing each other well as we go different ways #he wouldn’t stop thanking me and wishing me well #i told him it was the smallest thing i think anyone could do and i still walked away hollow wishing to have done more somehow #to suddenly own an apartment complex nearby for him and anyone he knew that needed it too #not a rigid shelter but a place to make home #blah blah blah talking too much about a deed done because i get emotional about humanity #tauto talks

[chuluoyi]

soft gojo meeting his newborn hc, pleaaasee??

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 11:10 P.M 」

soft dad!gojo drove me to have another baby fever for the ntn time. you just have to put this idea in my head don’t you dear anon~

a part of gojo's love entries

the thing was so tiny, precious and squishy. it fit right in his hands, so red and fragile, almost like a toy—

only it was not. it was a real, living baby. his son, partly made by his own flesh and blood—his to protect.

“hello to you, my little minion,” satoru whispered to his newborn, wonderstruck by the sight of this small but clearly alive being. his eyes glazed, his fingers delicately tracing the baby's face, body, and tiny feet. “i’m your dad, yeah?”

his own soft voice sounded foreign to him. but at this moment, as he was utterly mesmerized by the sight of little human that just came out of you, his beloved wife, he couldn’t care less.

he had always imagined how his brat would look like. he even joked with you about how he’d get his good looks—and heck, the gods did hear him and this baby in his arms was the most handsome baby he had ever seen, blessed with his white hair and softest skin, as well as the rosiest cheeks.

his only dismay was that he also inherited the bluest of eyes, the curse in his family line.

well, but that’s a problem for another day.

he settled his newborn into the hospital's nursery crib, and nudged his pudgy cheeks once again. not even half a day had passed since he was born, and gojo satoru had developed a severe cuteness aggression for his son. he swore he’d spoil him rotten, shower him love he never truly experienced from his own parents, and of course, keep him safe.

with his heart full, he left the baby as he slept, and went back to your room.

in the very same predicament as your baby, you were still fast asleep. you were visibly exhausted, your hair was a tangled mess, and there was a line of dried blood along your lips—caused by accidentally biting them too hard earlier, during your labor pains.

even in the state of disarray, satoru still thought you looked ethereal, too good for him.

he ran his fingers through your hair, smoothing them, and he regretted it when your face scrunched up and your eyes fluttered open. “…hmm? satoru?”

“hey, sweets. how are you feeling?”

“i still feel like being split into two… but yeah, i’ll manage.”

“shush, of course. you feel that way often, each time when i—”

“don’t,” you warned, glaring at him. “i just birthed your heir, gojo satoru. don’t even start.”

satoru burst into a laugh so hearty and he realized he truly loved this dynamics with you. and that he was grateful for you.

he wanted to thank you for all that you had done for him. for returning his feelings. for marrying him. for going through that pain to bring his son to the world—

and most of all, for still being here. for staying alive to live another day with him.

“i saw him just now. our baby is perfect.”

“really? i want to meet him too…”

“soon, sweetheart... when you’re a little better, i’ll take you to him.”

but he wasn’t the best with words. and so even if he were to pour his heart out, everything would be condensed into this one sentence.

you were excited at the prospect of meeting your baby, when suddenly satoru leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“i love you so damn much… you know?”

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff

[crossbackpoke-check]

I was reading through your old reblogs and sage to say the tags you put on the Oilers shower post are amazing and I would love to read something like that!!

Copying and pasting the tags here (the blue text is the part I was talking about but I left the preceding tags for context if that makes sense?):

#there's another shower right next to the sitting shower 9 is it in the front corner of the picture? is that little glass alcove the entrance #to get in? like there's also horny potential for somebody in the big empty open space & somebody waiting to come in hesitating but you can #see their shadow & their silhouette in the glass the one outside the door knowing that the other is inside all alone showering but still not #coming in because they're giving them privacy etc being the last ones out & this doesn't feel like a connor/leon thing so maybe it's going #in the vague yamo pile but whoever's in the big shower room all alone jerking off & narrating & god knows sound would carry inside that #space & it could be that whoever's outside the door forgot something in there (left soap etc etc) & just happened to walk in on it (and/or #on whatever is going on in the shower stall) & can hear but can't see them but they can see them & can tell that they're watching/listening #through the frosted glass anyway ALSO what i was trying to get to with nuge/yamo (Imao i don't even think i said nuge at first) was like. #omega yamo who goes into heat/is playing through it & yamo gets ejected from the game with the narrative of nuge five for fighting for #defending him (maybe it's the end of the third maybe it's the second & nuge gets a 10 minute major & yamo gets pulled for a concussion check #because of the hit & then the doctors are like Imao stupid no you can't go back out you're in heat [yamo saw nuge fight for him 00] so the #two of them end up in there alone i like the middle of the second bc then nobody's there & wont be for a minute actually) but it's yamo in #the big open space & nuge outside the door checking to make sure he's okay & thinking that he'll be fine he can control it yamo won't smell #because he's in the showers nuge'll just bury his face in soap nuge waiting politely outside the door & yamo is being a MENACE. ohhhhh we're #gonna have to do research but what was the injury that yamo was out for be the original gifset that started this... this is the inciting event #yamo has been bullying nuge for AGES & by god he's gonna get what he wants even if it takes jerking off in the oilers home showers to bait #nuge into doing it. nuge like 'you ok?' has a conversation with yamo etc nuge: 'you gonna be ok to make it home' & yamo says yeah but not

If you were referring to the time Nuge fought Holl, it was a because Yamo took a bodycheck up high and he had to be taken back for concussion protocol just to be safe

^^^real life footage of me receiving and reading this ask 🥺🥰 i would ALSO love to read a fic like that akdhskdjak, but getting this ask made me actually start a doc for omega yamo being a nuisance so thank you (also if you wanted more vague thoughts, here’s the original gifset i reference)

i think i know exactly which fight you mean!! and i think it is saved in my drafts with unhinged thoughts waiting to be released 😇 if i’m right, this is a video that i had to save multiple times on multiple platforms because it was Important To Me

#liv in the replies #thank you for context thank you for nice words i’m!!!! #🥰🥺😭😊🥹❣️ <- me getting this ask & hearing you like reading my tags (smiling kicking my feet giggling) #also ​me rolling up to this ask like five days late at an unreasonable hour (sounds like me normally on tumblr) #i will say!!! i am the slowest writer in the world!!!! this fic will not be coming ANY time soon #kailer yamamoto #edmonton oilers #ryan nugent-hopkins #GOD BLESS ME FUCKING WAITING TO POST THIS BECAUSE KAILER YAMAMOTO IS A DETROIT RED WING BAYBEEEE I’M SO HAPPY I LOVE HIM MY LITTLE DUDE #i need everyone to know that i saw a sad fancam retweet (didn’t watch the video just saw a comment talking about a lyric that got them #didn’t hear the song either and went WIAT HOLD ON HOLD ON i’d heard rumblings?? in the tags?? about yamo leaving edm but i didn’t really #know what was going on and i scrolled to the original tweet and in the resolves somebody said best of luck to yamo in detroit and I WAS #FILLING A 30 GALLON BUCKET WITH A HOSE AND LITERALLY DROPPED crouched to the floor and died right there oh my god why do these #things always happen when i have my HANDS FULL OF A FUCKING HOSE) i’m gonna. hyperventilating shrieking yowling YAMOOOOOOO #update. the spiral i have experienced. DETROIT BOUGHT YAMO OUT AND NOW WE DON’T HAVE HIM 😭😭😭😭 ARE YOU FOR FUCKING REAL RIGHT NOW I CAN’T #the only reason i was okay with the yamo trade was bc i was like ‘my sincerest condolences to edm fans. but yamo is coming to ME i love him #we will take such good care of him AND THEN THEY BOUGHT HIM OUT WHAT THE FUCK the brief and glorious joy of having yamo on my team so abrupt #i was once again filling up a bucket from a hose so like. @ hockey gods can you stop doing these things while i’m at work & have to pretend #to be normal. it is a personal crime against me actually & is direct retribution for the terrible thought i had yesterday wherein i was #imagining how yamo would fit onto our team (god bless omega yamo having another huge bonded omega to lovingly bully him like warren would mo #would do such a good job & can you just imagine 6’4 mo standing next to tiny little yamo? immaculate) <- that’s the important part but #actually hockey-wise it’s like. yamo is kinda exactly what we need a gritty little dude who’s gonna bring the energy & intensity & vibe #everybody up & the terrible terrible part of my brain was like :( but now that we have yamo does that mean we won’t re-sign bertuzzi because #yamo also fits that spot​ (yamo’s a right winger but still) & ALSO somebody said something about us signing tk which 😭🫡 i love him so much #but please don’t. ALSO I DON’T FUCKING WANT ALEX DEBRINCAT which is so mean & i feel bad because he’s a hometown boy & normally i would love #him but also. i just want bert back & if kitty comes at the cost of not having bert i’m so sorry bro you lose ANYWAY i had to think about #the gremlin energy of the wings having yamo tk & tyler in my ideal little brain & it was very pleasant to imagine but then i got struck down #lmao. remember when i said i was like five days late. sorry to have lied i am finally posting this &also noting i Cannot Handle free agency #the nuge defending yamo’s honor video will likely be coming out of the drafts as soon as i hang my laundry up & also finish making dinner #also also also!! if i am not Right & if you have made it this far can you send me the nuge fighting holl video if you have it 🤲

[ceilidho]

my most realistic Ghost headcanon is that he’s so absent father coded that he definitely has a wife and kid squirrelled away in a house somewhere that he visits from time to time but he finds it painful and uncomfortable being part of a “family” for too long so his visits are weird and sporadic, like he’ll randomly pick his son up from school and take him on a drive somewhere and you have no idea until your kid comes home that evening and tells you “oh yeah dad spent the day with me” and you’re GOBSMACKED because Simon never told you he was coming.

And other times he comes just to pick you up and bring you to a motel room he’s rented to fuck you six ways from Sunday and then when he’s done he just zips up and says “put another couple grand in the account for you and the boy” and kisses you on the head before driving you back home. Never stays very long. It can be rough on you, but if he stays too long he can feel his nerves fray. His upbringing made him hard and cold but there’s a part of him buried very very deep down that just doesn’t want to risk being his father.

Also I think he’s got a real kink for seeing you take care of his kid because of his own upbringing and how neglected he was as a child. He sees you sneak an extra sandwich in his son’s lunch and nearly breaks the glass in his hand. Obsessed with talking about how good you are to his kid when he’s fucking you - “good fuckin’ girl - gonna give me another?”

This has some adverse effects though because he has to be the hard ass parent like god forbid you try to tell his son he can’t have a snack before bed, he’ll just frown and go “the kid can ‘ave a snack, he’s no’ gonna go ‘ungry” like chill out, mate, he’s gonna have an upset stomach. It’s kind of a blessing when he’s not around because he always tries to contradict you when you’re trying to instil some discipline in your kid.