#And of course I have been neglecting my original stories for so long now

[estbela]

I love Hetalia, but once I have the time I'd like to check out other stuff because I need to be in other fandoms beisdes this one for my sanity. I'm so busy I only have time to do stuff regarding only one fandom and it's usually hetalia

#just talking recreationally #Still need to finish 1670 (netflix) and also. I kinda wanna watch some history documentaries #I hear rise of empires: ottoman is kinda good #And apparently there's a documentary about Alexander the Great? #Also I still have not watched more than the first episode of Fiona & Cake #And still gotta watch crazy ex girlfriend one of those days #And of course I have been neglecting my original stories for so long now #And I wanna revisit some of my old fandoms #AAAAAAAAAAAA I wanna do so much stuff

[wolfjackle-creates]

In celebration of my new writing sideblog, I decided to share a snippet of the expanded version of my first prompt fill. Original can be found here. Brief synopsis: Tim and Danny became online friends when they were both neglected and lonely ten/eleven-year-olds. Before Robin and before Phantom. They have been fully open with each other since they first met and that doesn't change, even after it probably should. (This segment is a chat fic.)

Prompt from @gremlin-bot

IKnowYourSecrets = Tim's username

-xXPolarisXx- = Danny's username

Typos in chat are intentional.

Edit: I don't know why the color text is being weird. Each time I get everything to work, new random letters are black.

Edit 2: formatting finally fixed. That took way too long.

-----

Danny had been playing mindlessly when he got a message from Secrets.

IKnowYourSecrets: Thank god your on

That was odd. Secrets was always laid back and chill.

-xXPolarisXx-: Secrets? Whats up

IKnowYourSecrets: something big has happened IKnowYourSecrets: like top secret big IKnowYourSecrets: and I need advice IKnowYourSecrets: ive set up a private chat IKnowYourSecrets: one that cant be hacked so easily

-xXPolarisXx-: dude youre freaking me out -xXPolarisXx-: whats going on?

IKnowYourSecrets: :sends link: IKnowYourSecrets: not here. Ill explain

Danny clicked the link and put in his username when prompted. He had never even seen this chat room server before. Not that he spent a lot of time on chat rooms. He preferred in-game chats.

-xXPolarisXx-: ok dude spill -xXPolarisXx-: wth is going on

IKnowYourSecrets: I know who Batman is

“What!” Danny couldn’t hold back the shout. He started typing a reply, deleted, started typing again.

“Danny?” asked Jazz from the kitchen table where she was doing her homework. “Everything ok?”

He waved his hand at her. “Yeah! Everything is fine! My friend and I were just killed by something I didn’t even know could be dangerous.”

“Don’t play too long. You still have homework.”

“I know! I’ll be good.”

-xXPolarisXx-: good one secrets -xXPolarisXx-: you got me for a minute

IKnowYourSecrets: :image attachment: IKnowYourSecrets: :image attachment: IKnowYourSecrets: :news link: IKnowYourSecrets: :news link: IKnowYourSecrets: :image attachment:

The links and pictures started coming through even faster. The first was a picture of a family of acrobats and one of the links was to the story about how the parents died in an accident while performing.

The next link was about Bruce Wayne adopting a child followed by one only a few months later discussing Batman’s new side kick, Robin. Then a picture of the Graysons’ son in his circus costume next to a picture of the first Robin. Which were entirely too similar.

“Holy…” whispered Danny. But the links and images were still coming.

Robin stopped being spotted when Dick Grayson moved out. And not much later Nightwing appeared. And then there was a new Robin and a new adoption. And then Jason Todd-Wayne died and Robin disappeared.

-xXPolarisXx-: what. The fuck -xXPolarisXx-: why are you even looking into this -xXPolarisXx-: Secrets! ????

IKnowYourSecrets: your a real friend, right? IKnowYourSecrets: I mean weve known each other for like 2 years now IKnowYourSecrets: no catfisher’d stick around this long

-xXPolarisXx-: course I’m real -xXPolarisXx-: though thats also what a catfisherd say

IKnowYourSecrets: I live in gotham IKnowYourSecrets: Batmans changed since Robin IKnowYourSecrets: Since Jason died IKnowYourSecrets: he needs a robin I think IKnowYourSecrets: hes mean and harsh and people dont feel safe

-xXPolarisXx-: … -xXPolarisXx-: youre planning something

IKnowYourSecrets: help me figure out how to convince dick to go back to being robin IKnowYourSecrets: I think they had a fight IKnowYourSecrets: from what i can find online their last several meetings have ended in fights

Danny stared at his screen, mouth open. Secrets couldn’t be serious. This was too much. But he knew his friend. He might joke during a gaming battle, but he’d never joke about this. Not to Danny, or well, Polaris.

-xXPolarisXx-: Youre gonna chase down Nightwing?? -xXPolarisXx-: isnt he only out at night??? -xXPolarisXx-: dude youre gonna get yourself killed -xXPolarisXx-: how’ll you even find him? -xXPolarisXx-: do NOT tell him you know his secret identity -xXPolarisXx-: what do vigilantes do to ppl who learn their identities?

Danny watched as the dots appeared to indicate Secrets was typing. They stopped. Picked up again.

IKnowYourSecrets: awww IKnowYourSecrets: you like me ❤ IKnowYourSecrets: im not gonna die! IKnowYourSecrets: NIGHTWING will be there IKnowYourSecrets: and I can find him bc I know his patrol routes IKnowYourSecrets: easy peasy IKnowYourSecrets: im going tonight IKnowYourSecrets: just need to figure out what to say

-xXPolarisXx-: dude really??? -xXPolarisXx-: do you even know why they fought?

IKnowYourSecrets: Gotham needs batman IKnowYourSecrets: and batman needs robin IKnowYourSecrets: hes a hero he should want to help

-xXPolarisXx-: Well start with that, then -xXPolarisXx-: if youre going to be an idiot -xXPolarisXx-: and go out in gotham at night -xXPolarisXx-: tell nightwing youre worried about batman

IKnowYourSecrets: worried about nightwing as well IKnowYourSecrets: hes not as bad IKnowYourSecrets: but its clear something is wrong

-xXPolarisXx-: im just a kid from a small town -xXPolarisXx-: how am I supposed to know how to talk to superheroes?

IKnowYourSecrets: they aren’t superheroes IKnowYourSecrets: no powers

-xXPolarisXx-: not the point -xXPolarisXx-: I guess -xXPolarisXx-: start by asking how hes doing -xXPolarisXx-: and how batmans doing -xXPolarisXx-: and say youre sorry about robins death -xXPolarisXx-: but most importan STAY SAFE -xXPolarisXx-: i dont even know your name to follow any news stories

IKnowYourSecrets: its Tim if you wanna know

-xXPolarisXx-: mines Danny -xXPolarisXx-: idk why but Tim fits you

IKnowYourSecrets: dont use it on public forums IKnowYourSecrets: but were safe here IKnowYourSecrets: Danny. I like it IKnowYourSecrets: thanks for the advice!!! IKnowYourSecrets: im gonna use it IKnowYourSecrets: ttyl IKnowYourSecrets: gonna track down dick and talk to him IKnowYourSecrets: he usually starts patroling in like an hour and a half IKnowYourSecrets: and it’ll take me about that long to get to bludhaven

-xXPolarisXx-: lemme know what happens -xXPolarisXx-: im gonna check this chat and the game any chance I have at the computer

IKnowYourSecrets: will do IKnowYourSecrets: by danny

-xXPolarisXx-: stay safe tim

Danny stared at the chat box as Secrets, as Tim signed out. What. The. Hell.

“You all right there, Danny?” Jazz was looking at him from their kitchen table and Danny quickly closed out of the chatroom. No one could be allowed to see that information.

“Yeah, course. Just talking with my online friend Secrets.” Whose name he now knew. “He had to go, though. So I guess I’ll start my homework.”

“Were you two playing that game you like?”

He couldn’t tell the truth, so he decided to lie. “Yeah. We’re hoping to beat this boss so we can get a rune stone that’ll let us craft this super awesome weapon! Then we might stand a chance in the arena.”

Jazz smiled at him. “I’m sure you two’ll get it. What’s this arena?”

Danny described the game on autopilot as pulled out his backpack and books. Holy hell, he knew Batman’s identity.

-----

Part 2

I also hope to start doing WIP Wednesdays if there's any interest. Probably not every week and they won't all be for this fic, but I've got a few things I've been working on that I hope people will enjoy.

Tag List (I hope you're still all interested so many months later. XP)

@bonebrokebuddy, @britcision, @lady-time-lord-, @welcometosasakiworld, @akikkobara, @phoenixdemonqueen, @dolfay, @skulld3mort-1fan, @nutcase8691, @dreamingasters, @xysidhequeen

I'm sure there's people I'm missing. So let me know if you want to be added or if you want to be taken off the list. I won't be offended either way.

#dp x dc #my writing #danny fenton #tim drake #chat fic #bring me home fic #i'll probably change that name #the formatting on this is a bitch #i dont use rich text #so i type all the html directly into my main document #you should see how the usernames look #i cannot get an accurate word count either

[humanityinahandbag]

Steddie Modern AU: TikTok

Steve would absolutely be that guy who would not understand TikTok. He and Eddie are older by the time it comes out, and most of the content there is of young kids going completely buck wild. Steve of course disapproves, hands on his hips, huffing about no supervision these days even though he was absolutely a terror in high school.

Eddie, rock star that he is, gets it to an extent. "They're expressing themselves!" he'd say.

Steve would only shake his phone around and point aggressively to a video playing on loop of a young man dancing along to some new trendy song, trying his hardest to seem cool and popular. "This isn't expression," he'd say, mother hen voice at top volume. "This is them trying to peacock to the world!"

"You did that once, too, Stevie."

"Yeah, and I was a little shit!"

And so Steve, in an effort to curb the young teenage population and keep them from making his mistakes (mostly due to parental neglect and hopeless, crushing self deprivation), would start his own TikTok channel.

"Hey there," he says into the camera, because for all the pride around his good looks, he has zero clue how to record a video of himself. "My names Steve, and I've been noticing a bunch of you on here who are out of control! Listen to me, alright? You need to dial it back. All that shit in high school is completely null and void when you're an adult. Trust me. From a former popular asshole, there's better shit you could be doing. Now let me show you how to scramble an egg."

His videos mostly consist of simple lessons. Giving out little pieces of advice. Teaching them basic life skills he had to learn on his own. How to cook. How to clean. How to iron a polo shirt. How to style your hair. How to do laundry. How to do basic first aid.

He often becomes transparent, telling them about his own childhood.

Sometimes he brings Eddie into his videos.

"This is my husband's favorite," he says, by way of explanation as he shows TikTok how to make pasta sauce from scratch. "He used to eat spaghetti out of a can. A fucking can!"

Despite his posturing on stage, Eddie becomes shy whenever a camera is in his face, and ducks his head away, smiling quietly towards the camera. "It's not that bad," he says.

"Not that- The sodium in that could kill an elephant!" Steve laughs.

"Yeah, well... I don't want you doing too much for me."

"I like doing things for you."

Eddie flushes and ducks his head, hiding his face away behind a curtain of curls.

Steve leans over a kisses his temple, pushing him gently out of frame where he'll be more comfortable, before turning back to the camera. "Anyway, this recipe is great if you're on your own for long periods of time. Especially because you can freeze some for later. Now the trick here is garlic. Let me show you how to peel it without making a huge mess!"

It's a month later where Dustin shows up at their door and shoves his phone into Steve's face. "Why the fuck," he'd snap, "are you trending?"

It turns out, the tiny community that Steve had been lecturing to wasn't as small as he originally thought.

There are so many kids out there desperate for parental affection, and they look to Steve, feeding off his pride, his kindness, his stories, his advice. Not only that but the fact that they get to see a former bully, a former popular kid, a man who grew up from neglect, become someone happy and married?

That's just... so wonderful.

"I've been on TikTok from the beginning and I only have, like, two thousand followers."

"So what? I don't have that many."

"You've got three million, Steve," said Dustin. Steve was not expecting that, squinting at the phone screen in his face. "Three fucking million! People are stitching your videos saying you guys are their new dads," Dustin squawked. "How did you not know you were this popular!?"

"I didn't know how to check my follower count!" Steve said, sincerely. It wasn't like he actually checked the thing! He just enjoyed making videos.

"You're so old."

"Hey," said Eddie from the kitchen, "don't talk about your mother that way."

"Yeah!" agreed Steve. "Don't talk to me that way! Now get into my next video so I can introduce you to your three million siblings."

And that is why I firmly believe that, if given the chance, Steve (and subsequently, Eddie) would absolutely become the internet's favorite parental figure(s).

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson

[neteyamsyawntu]

Kinkmas Day 02

T i t t y F u c k i n g

Ao’nung x Na’vi!Reader

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

Warnings: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞, vulgar language, smut, titty fucking(duh), dirty talk, lactating, pregnant!reader

Original Ao’nung art by @Cinetrix

Being pregnant with your second child seemed to come easier to you and your mate this time around, having learned much from your first pregnancy, your mate had no issue going out of his way to attend to your needs, the only difference now being that Ao’nung performed them without you having to ask for support. It’s like he was a different person when you were pregnant, of course he was always attentive and protective of you before, but it’s like he pushed himself beyond his usual boundaries. 

Any walls of pride he kept up for one reason or another before you became pregnant with his child, now crumbled into rumble the moment he found out the news. Of course you couldn’t allow your mate to work tirelessly for you without giving him some sort of reward, right? So when you had anchored yourself down to your knees in front of him after putting your first child down to sleep for the night, he found himself almost utterly dumbfounded, yet the eager twitching in his tewng depicted he had been withholding his true desires from you. 

Sexual rejection was something he had learned to cope with as well. It’s not that you didn’t have the drive for it, but more so that it was never the right time, either your body would be aching in different places, or your first born would take up both of your attentions. “You’ll stay quiet for me won’t you, ma’Nung?” You whisper as your delicate fingers loop into the band of his loincloth, slowly shimmying it down his thighs. “W-wait, really? Right now- ohhph… shit yawne…” his fumbled over works are broken the minute your tongue meets his cock. Your eyes half lidded as you lick up the length of his shaft in one fluid movement, before taking him into your mouth, mentally smiling to yourself when the fingers of his left hand fist themselves into your hair, gritting his teeth before releasing the tension in his jaw to steady his breathing, trying his best not to moan out load and risk waking your baby.

His eyelids fluttered as you took him nearly entirely into your mouth, sucking hard on his cock, conflicted between closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling after being neglected for so long or watching you make a pretty little scene for him as you sucked him off, that before pulling your mouth off of him completely, forcing him out of his thoughts, his thick tail swaying slowly behind him in anticipation, his whole body almost seemed to tingle with it.

A cocky smile morphs its way onto his lips watching as you adjust your motion slightly, straightening your back and grasping your swollen tits in each of your hands, moving to sandwich his cock in between them, “Why don’t we try something new, hm?” You muse, adjusting yourself once more before letting the buildup of saliva in your mouth drip onto the head of his cock from your tongue, just to add that extra bit of lubrication. “Eywa, what did I do to deserve you, woman?” Ao’nung hums slowly reeling his hips back, watching the tip of his cock disappear into the cavern of your breast before reappearing with a simple thrust. 

It’s this initial thrust that has his eyes drifting shut for a moment before opening them again, his pupils almost completely dilated as the hunger in his body rises to the surface. The sight alone makes your empty cunt wish it was stuffed full of him more than anything right now. The soft push and pull on your tender breasts as he thrusts with a bit more eagerness, was strangely comforting, working to massage both his cock and your tits equally. Your own eyes flutter closed for a moment at the relief, until a firm grasp at the underside of your jaw prompts you to open them again.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me, paysyul. You look so irresistible…” the underlying growl in his tone has you clenching once again, a faint blush playing on your cheeks when a sudden unfamiliar wetness catches your attention. Both of your gazes falter down to your breasts only to catch beads of white milk leaking from your nipples. “Uh- ma’yawntu, I’m sorry I-.” A bashful gasp breaks from your throat at the moment Ao’nung grabs your wrist as you are pulling away from his pelvic region, “And why is that, yawne? It is just a little milk…” his words rumble in a deep hum, removing him hand from your wrist and running his thumb over your leaking nipple smearing the liquid over the bud as his eyes methodically watch how the substance wets your skin, “Making a mess on my cock…” he groans teasingly before lifting the digit to his lips, making a display of dragging the pad of his thumb down his tongue, licking up your milk with confidence that practically oozed out of his pores, “Makes you look so damn pretty…”.

You stare up at your mate speechless, heart practically pounding in your ears and face growing hotter by the second as you watch him squeeze both of your breasts around his cock, producing more milk, dribbling down his hands and onto his dick, “Fuuuck…” he growls, licking his fangs with a cocky smirk before suddenly thrusting his cock between your swollen breasts once again. The warmth of your milk running down his shaft, was just the lubricant he needed to really get him going, your flustered expression being the cherry on the top, keeping his eyes glued to you submissively kneeling in front of him as he begins a steady rhythm of fucking your tits with ease.

Tag list: @itchaboi-itchyboy @pandoraslxna @oakbuggy @plooto @xylianasblog @etherial-moon-blog @hikari-michiko @neteyamssyulang @blue-slxt @c-townes @loaksxhoe @xstarsdiary @neteyamswillow @akoyaxs @neteyxmsgirl @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @zafrinaxyz @neteyams-wh0re @neteyamyawne @kiri-tuk @beauitful-brown-skin-05 @akoyaxs @neteyamsstuff @puddleswimmingnerd-blog @ntymavtr @luvv4j4ybe11

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar twow #avatarsmut #aonung #aonung x reader #aonung smut #aonung x y/n #aonung x female reader #lactating kink

[painedpen]

Tell me anything and everything abt your headcanons and stuff for Mondo Owada, I'm all ears! He's one of my favorites so I'd love to hear what you think‼️

Thank you very much but you have no clue what you’ve just unleashed.

Fluff:

- Mondo’s maternal family originated from France, so French is his and Daiya’s first language. Of course, Mondo has never met his mother’s family… yet.

- Speaking of maternal family, anyone wanna take a guess as to what his mother’s maiden name is? Anyone? Too late, it’s Akamatsu.

- So yeah, Kaede is Mondo and Daiya’s little cousin. Kaede is about two or three years younger than Mondo, and she’s delighted to find her long lost cousin at her new high school.

- Due to having to fend for themselves at a young age, both Mondo and Daiya are really good cooks. The difference between them is that Mondo refuses to allow anyone else in the kitchen when he’s cooking. Think Gordon Ramsey but somehow even worse.

- Mondo will never admit to anyone that he likes to cook. God forbid you ask him to cook for you. Unless you’re sick or like really sad. He’ll tell you to never tell anyone though.

- Physical affection is not only his love language, it’s his way of life. Every time you see him, he’s leaning on or hugging one of his classmates. He’s like a really big cat.

- When he was a kid, Daiya couldn’t leave him alone for a moment, cause every time he came back Mondo would have befriended some random animal of prey. Daiya turns around and Mondo is cradling a Great Horned Owl in his arms like a baby.

- Mondo hasn’t been able to bring himself to have another pet since Chuck, so instead he co-parents everyone else’s pets. He’s already won over Celeste’s cat.

- Most of his childhood was spent around a pack of stray animals. One day, a cat curled up on his lap and started purring, and Mondo was like “heehee funny noise” and started mimicking it. Long story short, Mondo purrs as a stim.

- He’s the best adoptive big brother ever. Are you an only child, or just temporarily sad for some reason? Boom, Mondo’s your big brother now. No, no, don’t fight it.

- After befriending Kiyotaka, Mondo went to his French class for the first time in his school career. (He picked it because it was an easy A.) Listening to his teacher, he realized very quickly that she was not a native speaker, nor had she learned from a native speaker. He was quiet for a solid five minutes and then said, in perfect French, “What the fuck are you talking about??”

- Dyslexia makes it so that letters and words are hard for him to understand. But numbers? Ohoho he knows all about those little bitches! Because of this, he’s shockingly good at subjects like Algebra and Calculus.

Angst: (CW: Abandonment, dissociation, child abuse, neglect, violence)

- Mondo’s dad was a real piece of shit to both his wife and kids. Unfortunately, Moselle, his mother, could only find one way to cope with it. She dissociated to the point where she couldn’t recognize her children.

- Daiya and Mondo didn’t know what was wrong with her, so they always said that “Maman is just away.”

- While Daiya was busy trying to take care of his little brother, Mondo dedicated himself to taking care of their mother. Despite Moselle not being able to do much more than basic self-care, Mondo was convinced that she was just sick, and that they needed to help her get better.

- I won’t go into heavy details, but Mondo and Daiya ended up homeless. After the trauma of what he went through with his parents, Mondo went entirely nonverbal for several years.

- One day, while Daiya was away looking for a source of income, Mondo was mugged while alone. A shot through the shoulder left him on the floor looking for help. No one bothered until Officer Takaaki Ishimaru came along. He got Mondo to a hospital just in time.

- Because of nights spent outside, Mondo tends to get Wind Anxiety. When the wind blows fast enough to be heard from inside, Mondo automatically starts shivering. It doesn’t matter if he actually feels cold or not, it’s just an unfortunate muscle memory.

- Mondo doesn’t remember a lot about his childhood, but he finds he can’t forget what his mother’s face looked like just before her death. He refuses to sleep most days because his dreams are full of her eyes looking directly at him.

- Daiya doesn’t remember a thing, but Mondo refuses to remind him. He’d rather Daiya live in blissful ignorance than have him suffer the way Mondo has.

- Mondo still goes nonverbal sometimes, so he likes to wear a face mask. He looks intimidating in that, so no one tries to talk to him when he’s wearing it. Win-win.

- While the Crazy Diamonds is genuinely fun, it’s not a healthy environment for Mondo in the slightest. There’s a large minority of members who still think he’s too weak to be in the gang. They constantly try to pester and bully him into retiring early.

- It was even worse when Daiya was still in charge. Almost everyone hated him. He would get into fights, people would tell him that he should get into a crash and die so that they wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. It was rough.

- Even so, Mondo stayed quiet about it. These people were like family to Daiya, and Mondo didn’t want to be the reason Daiya lost any more family. When Daiya asked why he’d come home with bruises all over, Mondo would blame it on a rival gang.

- The first time Hiroko met Mondo, she gave him a hug. She did that thing moms do, cradling the back of his head and neck with her hand protectively. Mondo absolutely melted.

Platonic Pairings:

Mondo + Kyoko:

- These two mean. So much to me.

- They are both black cat coded but in completely different ways. Like Kyoko is a mysterious and dark Witch’s Familiar, and Mondo is a moody dumbass who likes snuggles.

- Kyoko’s love language isn’t physical affection. But she spontaneously decides to cuddle with Mondo for an hour and a half to the second, and then silently leaves.

- Mondo joins Kyoko on her murder investigations sometimes. He contributes practically nothing, he’s just here to hang out. Kyoko appreciates his presence anyway.

Mondo + Chihiro:

- Okay this one’s just obvious.

- I don’t even think I need to say anything about this.

Mondo + Toko:

- Mwah. Delicious.

- I think that Mondo would hate the way Byakuya treats Toko, and would start aggressively defending her.

- He starts “training” her in order to try and get her confidence up.

- Like, Toko wears a rubber band around her wrist that Mondo snaps every time she self-deprecates. Pavlov her into positive self talk, y’know?

- Toko tells Byakuya to go fuck himself and Mondo stands in the background, wiping a tear from his eye.

Mondo + Celeste:

- Sibling energy frfr.

- They scream at each other in French, but would go to war for each other no questions asked.

- They shit-talk other people together.

- Celeste forces him to wear his hair down every now and again because “The big hair distracts from your pretty face!”

- Mondo points out that she’s a hypocrite. Celeste doesn’t care.

- These two fight so much but there’s no real animosity behind it. Not that anyone around them can tell. Everyone else thinks that they just plain hate each other.

Mondo + Gundham:

- Childhood friends. Hear me out.

- Mondo found a really sick stray puppy when he was little and rushed him to the vet. The vet said that since Mondo didn’t have any money, there was nothing they could do. Mondo was really upset.

- Baby Gundham came up behind them like “You foulest of fiends! It would seem your soul has been buried under stone, if you have it in you to turn away a creature in need. Worry not, mortal, for I, the great Gundham Tanaka, will help you restore this dark beast to its rightful glory!”

- Baby Mondo was like “Okay lol” and they both left.

- That’s how Mondo got Chuck.

Mondo + Mikan:

- Hoo boy!!

- Mondo is in the infirmary a lot due to obvious reasons, so it’s only natural that he would be friendly with the nurse.

- Every time Hiyoko or someone else tries to come in and bully Mikan, Mondo picks them up by the neck and throws them out.

- It’s gotten to the point where, even if Mondo isn’t there, Mikan will just tell people “If you won’t leave me alone, I’ll call Owada!” No one fucks with that.

- Overall, having Mondo’s protection is a huge confidence boost for her.

Kay there you go.

#danganronpa #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #mondo owada #trigger happy havoc #mondo oowada #headcanons #fanfic #fluff #angst #kyoko kirigiri #chihiro fujisaki #toko fukawa #celestia ludenberg #gundham tanaka #mikan tsumiki #mondoblr

[snuffydoo]

Dimentio’s backstory

This post will explain the origins and past of Dimentio and how he came to be prior to Super Paper Mario. I would like to make it clear that everything I say here is not canon and it should not be taken as clear facts or evidence. This is my telling of his story so if you disagree with certain points of the document… that is perfectly okay. I am not here to force anyone to tell the same story as I do. However; I do take a lot of inspiration and points from Garson/Carson. 

>Another thing, I might change some things in the future, especially in terms of designs or names. I will keep this document updated whenever I make any said changes.

Also please don’t go through my doc picking apart my grammar and english mistakes. I know I’m not a professional writer. Thank you

Enough rambling/disclaimers

Let’s begin

The Beginning

The story starts off with a small family of four. 

(The dad’s design is not finished)

(Will update it when I do)

A mom, a dad, a daughter and a son. The dad was an all-powerful magician with the power to bend and create dimensions while the mom was an ancient who had the power to produce illusions. They were both named Universi and Illumina. They then named their kids Damon (Dimi) and Poppy respectfully as they were born. The family was a content family with only the goal to help the other ancients and provide a safe, healthy economy. Using their magic, they would help the civilizations. However, fate had other plans. 

Around the time Dimi was 10 he would come crawling to his mom about certain nightmares he has been having. Each new nightmare shares very similar attributes and traits to the previous one. They all had a forbidding message about a heart made of chaos that would wipe out everything as we know it. Of course these were just dreams right? That’s what Illumina thought of at first until she started getting visions with the same descriptors. 

This grew worry in her as she anxiously watched over Dimi as he continued to live his childfree life. The fear only seemed to grow as the visions got worse for them both. Universi soon caught wind of what was happening and quickly asked what they all meant. He would then ask Dimi the same questions making sure everything was all right. The story was always the same in these visions/nightmares of a masked man who would use the heart of chaos to live out a prophecy that would wipe out every dimension. Once it was clear that Dimi would be that man one day- the terror grew quickly.

Universi quickly disposed of that thought and decided to fight the future. He went into action to start taking more responsibility in leading Dimi the right way. He would direct him to doing the right thing and nag him constantly about what was right or wrong. His punishments were harsh when he did mess up and his words were stern despite Dimi still being really young. Their relationship grew really shaky as both parents had all their attention on him. This only caused more issues than good. 

With all this attention on Damon, Poppy started to get neglected. She was often placed aside because the fears of Dimi’s future were more worrisome than hers. The parents never meant to do this to her but the consequences will take a toll. One day, Poppy started to get very sick as she lay to rest hoping it was just a fever. Not too long after, it took her life as Illumina screamed in terror. Grief quickly took over the family as the dad mourned his daughter for days upon end. With the family completely in shambles, both parents were once again focused on other things as Dimi finally had a chance to breathe and do his own thing. He really didn’t do much aside from locking himself in his room, reading or studying magic. This is where he starts to come up with a book that will be detrimental to super paper mario as a whole. The dark prognosticus. 

Now… At the time it wasn’t really much. It was just a bunch of random notes and diary documents about what his dreams were like and certain spells he jotted down. It was supposed to help him get an understanding of his future and basically get his visions onto paper so he wouldn’t forget them. He even recorded some of his spells that his dad had been practicing. Even an important one that was supposed to bring the dead back to life in a new body. Whatever that meant. While he was researching that, both Dimi and his mom didn’t have much to do so Illumina decided to promise Dimi that he would take him out on a little vacation. It was probably the only time in such a long while that Dimi would be excited for something. 

A couple weeks passed and nothing much has changed. Luckily it was the day of vacation as Illumina beckoned Dimi to come with him. It would help calm both of their nerves as well as maybe rekindling their relationship. She was hoping to help apologize for being a terrible mother as she guided him towards one of the dimension doors. 

The next events came as a surprise.

Before the two could make it to the door, a large explosion happened. At the time, no one knew what caused it. (Frankly someone hypothesized it was faulty wiring to old broken machines). 

Illumina was now dead.

The accident caused an uproar amongst many as people far and wide came to debate and decipher the events of the explosion. The magician’s wife was dead and his son now was nowhere to be seen. News caught wind to Universi as he began to now mourn the death of his entire family. Everything was taken away from him in the span of a couple years. 

Dimi, although presumed to be dead by the public, was actually not really dead. He was caught in the explosion, yes, but he ended up surviving. (Warning for wound depictions and injuries.)  When the explosion happened, it burned his face and his arms were deeply scarred. He didn’t seek help right away, afraid of his father’s reaction so instead he ran away and lived in a shack far from the town. He wasn’t really sure what to do now. Both his mom and his sister were gone, his father was in heavy grieving, and now his own body was injured. He waited it out nonetheless. He didn’t want to go back. Not now. 

Time passed as things at the village started to settle down. Universi became consumed in his work as he was seen to never leave his house aside from calling forth an assistant he hired to help him out. Even the people at the town have become shaken by the events that transpired before them. Silence was thought to have been forever until Universi had an epiphany. 

Once again he refused to let fate describe his future so he did the unthinkable one day. Taking his daughter, he was able to transport her soul into a new corpable body in which he proclaimed as the first ever pixl. He named her the pixl queen and finally came out of his house to shout the praise of his new work. 

News spread fast as the Magician taught his discovery to various other ancients his power of creating pixls. Building tools and ways to bring dead ones back to life as a second chance. A way to preserve the souls of family members. It was a huge success and soon ancients across multiple dimensions were practicing his ways. Universi couldn’t have been happier as he rejoiced at bringing his own daughter back. There was one big issue though, she had no memories or relocation of her past. When she became the pixl queen, all her thoughts and past were erased from her mind. She did not know who he was, or where she came from. All pixls didn’t seem to remember who they were previously. This would soon become an issue later on but let’s get back to Dimi. 

Damon was actually seemingly doing better as he thought that he would finally return home. He got up and headed back with a heavy sigh in his breath. When he came back he couldn’t believe his eyes. The civilization has flourished since he left with people everywhere exclaiming about how the pixls have vastly improved everything in their lives. Dimi, bewildered, went back home to see his dad once more. Of course Universi was even more ecstatic to see his son was actually alive. He helped him settle back in as he helped tend to Damon’s wounds. 

(Not an important note but I wanted to say this anyway. This is where Dimi gets his floaty hands since his arms were way too damaged. His dad helped him out with this) 

Dimi wasn’t too fond of what his dad was doing however. Pixls? Reviving dead members? Assistants? He was completely delusional from grief that he didn’t even have a grasp on what he was actually doing. Damon’s own sister doesn’t even recognize him anymore. Dislike for his father started to become hatred as he quickly started to separate himself from Universi again. 

His relationship with Poppy or well.. The Pixl Queen wasn’t even the same anymore. She was very derogatory of him and often would want nothing to do with Dimi. She had a strong hatred for the ancients for some reason and Damon didn’t get a pass. He started to hate her too as isolation got the best of him. He would go back to what he was doing before all this went down and idly sit in his room. Ashamed of his own face he tried finding a cure and even began wearing a mask to hide his injuries. He couldn’t look at himself anymore in the mirror.

Things played out normally after that or well.. Somewhat normally. Universi would continue to do his own work as both Damon and his sister did her own things. Dimi however was starting to lose it as he became more and more enamored in darker forms of magic. It completely enthralled him as he finally found perhaps a spell that can finally fix his broken face. Upon practice, it worked. His face finally healed and he no longer had scars that plagued his skin. That’s what happened at first at least. Time passed and everything seemed to have gone wrong. The magic backfired and completely corrupted his body. His face especially was now only void. Damon was no longer the same person anymore as this was his last push over the edge. He officially ran away and didn’t look back. 

That’s basically the main gist of what I wanted to write here. A couple years into the future he would soon dawn his new jester attire for he was enamored by the theatrical arts. He then would go completely insane and wish to wipe out all the dimensions and become ruler of them all. I could also get into the nitty gritty of the Pixl Queen revolution against the ancients, how the war was started, or how the Pixl queen became Shadoo  but this document is long enough. (Maybe in the future I’ll explain that too who knows)

But that’s all I wanted to explain today and I thank everyone who read it. 

#It is finally done #I'm so nervous to post this but agh #Never done any writing like this before so go easy on me? #thanks ;;;;;;;; #dimentio #shadoo #pixl queen #super paper mario #dimentio backstory #spm #paper mario #writing

[thekatebridgerton]

Bridgerton Aus based on my personal favorite lighthearted Isekai Manwha. Pt1

Kanthony ‘I’m Divorcing My Tyrant Husband’

Kate Sheffield, up and coming British polo player did not expect to somehow die in a car crash and wake up in her sister Edwina’s favourite romance fantasy novel. Worse, the character that she reincarnated isn’t the main character but rather the most loser extra, Kathani Sharma, the long suffering wife of Tyrant Emperor Anthony Bridgeton, who only exists as a political marriage prop for the emperor and his concubine to shine. Since the male lead not only neglects his empress but also highly favours the concubine his council encouraged him to accept into the castle, to the point where Anthony spends the whole novel ignoring Kathani's needs until his wife eventually dies of consumption over an illness that could have been easily prevented. All while Sienna receives all the love of the people.

The situation is frustrating. With seven siblings ruling different continents, Anthony’s power is absolute, and his wife is barely respected because she hasn’t produced an heir. Reincarnated Kate of course, thinks that the husband the novel landed her with, is total garbage. And since she is not the original Kathani Sharma and doesn’t want to die of illness or whatever scheme Sienna Rosso can hash out to make her look bad, she realizes that her best bet to attain a peaceful afterlife in this novel, is to make Tyrant Emperor Anthony get sick of her and divorce her.

So no more Mrs nice wife. No more taking care of the kingdom, no more playing the part of a demure Empress, no more paperwork, no more begging the Tyrant Emperor or his siblings for attention. Kate doesn’t like Anthony and she’s going to make it his Kingdom’s problem. From now on, she’s going to be the biggest pain in the grass that the castle has ever known, She’s going to spend Anthony’s money in dresses and jewels and whatever else until she bankrupts the kingdom treasury (Anthony just thinks his wife is cute, if she bankrups him, his family will just conquer another continent to get more gold) . She’s going to barge in his meetings with other nobles (that’s also good, Anthony gets bored in meetings anyway), she’s going to publicly buy slaves in the black market (and secretly set them free, but shhh) all in all, she’s going to be such a terrible empress that Anthony will be forced to divorce her.

But wait… Why does he seem to like her even more when she disrupts the order of things and causes mayhem? What is wrong with this trashy womanizer that the more she tries to get on his nerves the more he laughs? If only he could divorce her. Argh, why won’t he just let her go, she wants to live her life in peace, But no, the more Anthony Bridgerton gets inconvenience by his stubborn Empress, the more he believes she’s the right woman for him.

Maybe she should get a lover, infidelity has got to be a cause for divorce even in fantasy land right…. Wait Anthony, no no no, stop trying to kill Thomas Dorset!! He did nothing wrong! He was just staring at her for too long!! Didn’t the Tyrant emperor in this story always ignore his empress and favour his concubine? Why are there rumours that Anthony never slept with Sienna? And why the heck is Anthony so determined to kill any man who gets close to Kate??. What happened to her divorce??

An: I think I might make this au a series

#kanthony au #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #Isekai au

[miss-may-i]

Miss May I: Season 4 Part 18

Attorney: Hi Mr. Lowry, it’s nice to meet you.

Vivian: Nice to meet you too. Thanks for getting me in on such short notice. 

Attorney: Of course, let’s sit down to discuss the matters. 

Attorney: So, I looked over the case briefly last night, and from what I understand, your mother lost custody of your sister six years ago, sending her to foster care. Then about a year ago you got custody of her, but now the mother wants custody returned back to her. 

Vivian: Yeah, that’s about it. 

Attorney: Under what matters was the child removed from her care? 

Vivian: Neglect and child endangerment. She is a drug addict and the house caught on fire while she was high and Julie was inside. 

Attorney: And that’s when the child was removed.

Vivian: Correct. I tried to get custody of her, but I was only 18 at the time and homeless after the fire. I actually wasn’t able to gain custody until after I graduated from college and started my career. 

Attorney: What do you do for a living? 

Vivian: I’m a high school English teacher. 

Attorney: That’s a great career. Do you know what your mother does? 

Vivian: As far as I know she’s unemployed, but I heard her new husband is a cop. 

Attorney: Okay so she is married. What about you? What is your marriage status? 

Vivian: I am currently going through a divorce. 

Attorney: I’m sorry to hear that. 

Attorney: So right here I have a statement from your mother’s attorney stating their side of the story. Jade admits that she did struggle being a single mother, but claims she has her life back on track. Says she has a house and a stable marriage and believes she can provide a more stable environment for the child.

Vivian: I’ve known that woman for a long time and I can tell you that is not true. 

Attorney: That is a possibility. She claims that while under your care Julian’s behavior has been out of control and she is now currently pregnant. 

Vivian: ...

Vivian: Okay that might be true, but that’s because of all the years she spent being abused in foster care. She’s been doing much better. She hasn’t broken any rules and is getting straight A’s in her home schooling. 

Attorney: Alright, so this is what I’m going to do. I am going to file an objection to the change in custody and from there we will have what is called mediation. It is where we will talk with Jade and her attorney and hopefully come to an agreement before going in front of a judge. 

  Vivian: What kind of agreement? 

Attorney: Hopefully some kind of visitation. 

Vivian: No, that can’t happen. Julie never wants to see her again. We saw her just a few weeks ago and you should have seen the hatred in her eyes. 

Attorney: Unfortunately, since she is the mother she still has rights, which at the bare minimum is visitation. If we end up going in front of a judge, she could end up getting more than that. Even full custody. I looked over the paperwork and the original judge in your case said she could be eligible to regain custody if she completed the required hours for drug rehabilitation and community service, which she has. 

Vivian: You mean by trying to protect her, I could end up losing her again?

Attorney: That is a possibility. 

Previous | Beginning | Next

Season 1 | Season 2 | Season 3  

#sims 3 #ts3 #simblr #ts3 simblr #story simblr #sims story #ts3 story #miss may i #miss may i season 4 #miss may i season 4 part 18 #vivian lowry

[celsmedia]

My favourite Disney movie ౨ৎ

A review written by Cel

I finally decided to write my love and thoughts about this movie after never finding enough words for it. Tangled is the first 3D animated Disney movie with a disney princess and was their animated studios' 50th movie. It is loosely based on the german fairytale "Rapunzel" by the brothers Grimm from the early 1800s. Some of Disney's previous disney princess movies had also been based on the brothers Grimm fairytales. As we can see in the animated movie we're introduced to this kingdom called Corona, this place is based on the german culture and architecture along with some characters' names. The music is written and composed by the infamous Alan Menken, whom I've admired his work for as long as I can remember, he has composed for Disney multiple times such as the soundtrack for The Little Mermaid. I officially became a fan of him earlier last year when I started watching Tangled's sequel series "Rapunzel's tangled adventure" where he had also composed the music, I definitely recommend watching it if you really enjoyed the movie. One would assume it is some type of spin-off but surprisingly it connects with all the details from the original movie.

To start off with my love for this: I was never a big fan of this movie as a little kid as I am right now. Of course I knew all the words to the songs and the storyline, but I was more of a Cinderella and Frozen kid. Even so, this movie was still on repeat on my family's TV most of my childhood and I safely assume the DVD got ruined because of how much it played.

Tangled is my favourite Disney movie and have been for a very long time. I don't remember when it really got to me, but it was always a comfort movie I could watch all the time if I felt bored or didn't have any movie choices in mind. After watching it atleast once a month (unaware of the amount of rewatches), I felt emotionally attached to it and I knew I could relate to Rapunzel. She is a witty, creative, and curious 18 yr old girl who had been trapped in a tower for most of her life without knowing the true meaning about it. My favourite relatable thing about her is the amount of hobbies she mentions in "When will my life begin?". Disney did really well showing domestic abuse and passive aggression from mother Gothel, us as the viewers already know that she's the bad guy in the story but Rapunzel doesn't which makes her relationship with her feel so natural. Her realisation is one of my favourite scenes because of the recollection of her early memories. I feel the intention of this was to help young children who watches it would maybe realise if they are actually being treated badly and neglected. Of course a young kid wouldn't pick up the bits and pieces that fast but it is easy for someone to think their treatment and relationship with their parents are natural which is the same case with Rapunzel.

Now with Rapunzel's romance that I am very fond of. If you really think about the time Rapunzel and Eugene spent together and the ending of the movie, it is quite weird how they just got married already. They met a day before her 18th birthday, he was on the run and she wanted to see the "floating lights". The fact that Eugene was canonically 26 years old in the movie which can seem pretty weird, but in the series they reveal he was 23 as he turns 26 at the end of the last season. I love how they didn't make them flirty at the start of their friendship which obviously would be natural for two strangers and especially for a girl who's never talked to another human being other than her mother. Flynn Rider, the name Eugene went by, was not happy with this trip he had to do if he wanted his satchel back. It's just wholesome to watch them progress throughout the movie and the way their feelings begins to develop. I like to think Rapunzel admired him from the start, as Eugene fell for her later on. If their relationship had a trope I would definitely say the "she fell first, but he fell harder" trope. In the sequel series, they start the story some months (i think) after Rapunzel returned to her real parents. But she and Eugene hasn't been married yet, she actually said no first because she felt insecure and was still trying to be used to her new life. Their relationship took years with complicated feelings and miscommunication which is one of the best parts of the series. Me personally would've said "yes" right away to Eugene. He is probably the most handsome and dare I say best Disney man. I mean they did put a group of women at the studio to work out his best design..

This is definitely the best animated movie among Disney for me, every scene is just satisfying to watch and it's like letting your brain rest for over an hour. They captured such beautiful moments in animation and perfected it so well with dialogue and music. One of my biggest dreams would be to watch this on a big screen with a live orchestra, and possibly Mandy Moore and Zachary Levi sing too.

I also want to address the live action of Tangled because of the current rumours about the castings. As far as I know, Disney hasn't fully confirmed that the live action is in the works and everything so far is just rumours or assumptions. Only a few days ago 1-2 articles had been found informing that Disney has reportedly casted Avantika Vandanapu and Milo Manheim as Rapunzel and Eugene. This caught a huge amount of attention and controversy on social media, and my biggest problem with this is how people actually believe it. I really thought we were past believing absolute everything we see on the internet, especially from websites we've never gotten information from. Because why would a website almost no one reads suddenly have Disney's thoughts of their cast? Worst is the people believing this and being racist about it. Avantika had never been a choice in my fancast for Rapunzel as she doesn't fit her description, but that does NOT mean she shouldn't be allowed to play her as there are plenty versions of white Rapunzels from before. The people using this casting to compare it with saying "Tiana/Moana should be played by a *white woman*" are who annoy me the most in this situation. I've had multiple arguments with different people the past couple of days because of stating how comparing those two are not fair and the inaccurate casting isn't the same difference. First of all: Tiana's appearance and storyline are based on her skin colour and culture as she's an afro-american woman from the 1920s in New Orleans. In parts of her movie her "background" even gets represented as a problem for her to achieve her dream, this movie is obviously made to represent our beautiful black people in the world. Shocked they didn't get a representation until 2009. Second: Moana is based FULLY on polynesian culture and through polynesian mythology, even her voice actor was encouraged to be a part of that. Auli'i Cravalho, her voice actor, is native Hawaiian and encourages their culture along with the music Lin Manuel Miranda wrote. At last: Comparing this rumoured Rapunzel casting to Tiana or Moana is wrong as her story isn't meant for representation of oppression and not based on her skin colour. Yes, it is loosely based on the brothers Grimm's fairytale which is German and the movie does show German details in the story but things will always change and they already are. Why not let today's children grow up with beautiful characters that can let them feel as included as every white person can with the previous characters? I can say this has never been a problem to me growing up even though none of the disney princesses looked like me, it still makes children aware of it at some point and when I realised I didn't have a disney princess that looked or was based remotely on people like ME, I began hoping Disney would make a south-east Asian princess. That's why I agree that Disney should start making new disney princess movies representing more people instead of not having an accurate casting for the character but honestly, Rapunzel's SKIN colour is not that relevant to her story at all. Anyway, my fancast for Tangled has always been Meg Donnelly and Milo Manheim after watching the Zombies movies. They have great chemistry and both of them sing perfectly! I'm excited to see how this live action movie will turn out, after Halle Bailey's "The Little Mermaid" I hope it will be as amazing.

My love for Tangled is endless but to finish my review I want to thank you for reading all the way down here. If I was only allowed to watch one movie the rest of my life I might have chosen this or a 2-3 hour long just to be entertained longer. The amount of times I've watched this has made me able to recite most of the scenes and the whole film is engraved to my mind. I think if I had enough time and peace I could literally sit still and watch the movie scene by scene in my mind. Again, thank you for reading!

Written and edited by Cel

05/04/2024 Friday.

#film review #tangled #rapunzel #flynn rider #eugene fitzherbert #tangled review #movies #letterboxd #digital journal #girlblogging #movie review #cinema #tangled live action #disney #disney movies #review

[dwreader]

How do you go about figuring out what references the show is making (besides the ones they just say directly)??

Ohh ykw on this show I think they hit you over the head with so many both allusions and direct callouts that its almost more like trying to figure out which ones are true thematic references and which are just fun little namedrops. For example Daniel mentioning Kevin Durant imo is just a pop culture/worldbuilding namedrop to show that he's a ~cool guy~ from brooklyn and goes to basketball games (and to further establish these characters live in OUR world with the same celebrities). We're not meant to read Kevin Durant's bio on wikipedia and think of all the deep parallels. On the other hand, my pal blueiight has brought up that Basquiat paintings hanging around the penthouse could be read more deeply about the two men's biographies but maybe you don't necessarily HAVE to get the reference to understand the show. It's like an easter egg.

Also some references are simply bc modern tropes all stem from some origin and not the show deliberately making the connection, like yk the gothic romance tropes are abounding in this story and its not necessarily the show directly being like hey guys this is just like Jane Eyre! imma right? rather the conventions are so ingrained in our culture now that they bleed into everything. Or like my My Fair Lady posts it's like is this really a My Fair Lady specific thing or is it cause all professor/student or mentor/mentee romantic fiction all kind of stems from Pygmalion?? Anyways I'm gonna put the rest under a read more cause it's gonna be long af. sorry.

The ones I tend to take really seriously are books, plays, etc where the show goes out of its way to give you a bit of plot summary like Iolanta (blind princess who doesn't know she's a princess) where Louis crying at the opera kinda like Julia Roberts crying at La Traviata in Pretty Woman signals a thematic parallel between the characters (shoutout to slaygentford for that post that changed the world). Whereas they don't for Don Pasquale so while that's like a little funny joke cause its heheh its also about an old ass man looking for a wife that's like less serious to me than Iolanta. Louis casually reading Madame Bovary as his voiceover says he was "neglecting the duties of the role Claudia mocked me for the unhappy housewife" is a clear HELLO LOOK HERE moment, as well as Louis reading Edward Carpenter's book about marriage trying to regain his sight after his beating. Whereas I think him reading the Origin of Species is just like aww he's so cute and intellectual trying to find a scientific reason for his eating disorder.

A Doll's House is the biggest one imo cause it's both a direct callout in ep2 (Lestat mentions not wanting to miss the opening scene of Nora and the Christmas tree) and an allusion in ep7 (Louis shown decorating a Christmas tree), AND the "doll" theme runs throughout most of the show so even if you know nothing about that play, there's like hints being thrown at you with Louis bringing paper dolls to the twins bday party, decorating Claudia's room full of dolls and Lestat designing his Mardi Gras outfit like he's a doll. Maybe you've never read or heard Nora's monologue where she says all her life she's been treated like a doll and now she treats her children like dolls too cause she doesn't know anything else but you can literally SEE the dolls on the shelf in Claudia's room.

Streetcar is also the other one that the show is so so soooo obviously Leonardo Dicaprio pointing meme at itself. Even if you've never read the play or seen the movie, the image every fucking person on earth recognizes is Marlon Brando in a wifebeater cause that quite literally changed the course of pop culture history and male sex symbols AND you probably know STELLLAAAAA!!!!! These are both referenced quite directly by the show with Lestat wearing wifebeaters in ep5,6 and 7 and in Lestat's attempts to get Louis back after the DV as that's literally the context of STELLAAA he's screaming her name after he got kicked out for beating her btw if you even care. Plus they are riding an actual streetcar in ep7 even though they have a car??? and they're way too rich to be taking public transportation like what's that about.. unless!

Then you have things that Rolin has brought up himself in interviews like Bogie & Bacall (famously massive age gap hehe), John Cassavettes films (I would say Faces and A Woman Under the Influence as the primary sources of that comp), Francis Bacon art that you can definitely pick out from the show as well! So this show is chock full of cool references and inspirations and its very cool that people are being introduced to some of these older pieces of media through the show!!

#iwtv #interview with the vampire #im sorry this is so long im bored at work and got carried away #but there's soooo many of these rolin you sick bastard #asks

[the-paper-shredder]

Overanalyzing The Juniper Tree concerning Wick

HELLO EVERYONE! This is my second Wick theory posted here and I'm glad that I decided to do The Juniper Tree because Oh My God. There's SO much packed into this fairytale.

Long post ahead.

Anyway, for some context: what is The Juniper Tree? Well, it's an old, dark German fairytale that is featured in Journal Page 29 (aka the one related to Caleb)

Well, technically the actual fairytale isn't word-for-word written like how it is in Wick, but still. It's literally a variant of The Juniper Tree. Most people assume this is a poem made by Hellbent Games themselves just to be like “Yeah Mary killed Caleb lol” but it's a full fairytale published by the Brothers Grimm.

So, what are the themes, before we get into all the passages? Well...

Child abuse, murder, CANNIBALISM, and biblical symbolism. Very much in line with Wick, especially Caleb. Be warned, however, the cannibalism thing is an absolute jumpscare if you're reading it for the first time.

Anyway let's get started.

Alright, first things first is that the mom dies during childbirth and another woman (the stepmom) takes her place. Do I think this has any heavy relevance to Wick? Not really. It could be symbolic with Mary, as in once she had Caleb the past her “died”.

The next part about the stepmom loving her daughter but hating her stepson to the point of abuse suggests something not many consider... Caleb, like Tim and Tom, was abused by Mary as well. You'd think for seeming to be the golden child of the family, Mary wouldn't do that to Caleb, but expectations aren't always reality. I mean, none of the items relating to Caleb mentions anything about Mary caring for him, and Old Man Edwards even talks about how Mary seemingly neglected all of her kids. Of course, it'd extend to Caleb.

Another thing is that “the Evil One” is referenced throughout the story. This is a title of, obviously, the devil. Considering that throughout Wick, there are implications of another supernatural entity, likely a demon, haunting the Weaver family before their deaths... yeah, this is just more evidence.

And now we come to the son's... very fucked up death. This reminds me of how it's sometimes theorized that before being buried alive, Caleb had been struck in the head by the shovel. Like, the “DIG THIS!” achievement's picture shows Caleb being hit with, you guessed it, a shovel. If you look closely at Caleb's model's face, he looks to have some scarring on his face.

Another thing about this scene is the son saying “Mother, how angry you look. Yes, give me an apple.” almost feels... defiant in a way? Even if he's always afraid, he still fights back in his own way. This could be how Caleb was as well.

We now have a name for the daughter: Marlene. Or well, in the original English translation, it's Marlinchen, but I'll still use Marlene for simplicity.

This part of the story possibly gives insight into the aftermath of Caleb's disappearance/death. Caleb was likely not fully buried but still died, which left Lillian (who is obviously in the place of Marlene, she is the only daughter after all) to find the body. Being younger, and also the closest to Caleb via the version of the fairytale in the Journal, was devastated.

And then comes the... really fucked up part.

I don't have much to discuss for this, since this part was seemingly removed in the Journal's version. But seriously, this is actually messed up. The dad, largely absent until now, unknowingly EATS HIS OWN SON. The absence of the dad certainly fits with John being absent during the war.

First off is Marlene gathering her brother's bones and tying them up in her (best) scarf before lying them beneath the juniper tree. Like the stepmom killing the son, this matches up with the Journal's version of the fairytale. Lillian likely reburied Caleb, but while Mary was malevolent in burying him alive, Lillian put thought and care into burying Caleb's body as seen in the rags he's wearing in-game. (Another thing is the “crying tears of blood” which makes me think of Lillian's design in No Way Out.)

Second off is the firey entrance of a bird (specified to be a crow in the Journal's version). Fire obviously reminds us of Mary's death, which we will get to later. The bird, if it isn't obvious enough, is the son reborn, and sings atop a goldsmith's house his sad tale. This brings us back to the start of our journey, the Journal's version of this line of dialogue.

I'll skip some of this, but in short, the bird goes to three locations. A goldsmith, a shoemaker, and a mill. Each time, he sings his tale to the people there, who want him to sing it just once again. He's defiant, telling them he'll only do it if they give him something in return.

The goldsmith gives him a golden chain, the shoemaker gives him a pair of red shoes, and the mill workers give him a millstone. The first two are easy, but what in the world is a millstone? Well, it's a stone used for grinding grain and apparently corn. We'll see what it's used for in a short bit.

The bird returns to his father's house! As shown, the dad is happy while the stepmom and Marlene are upset (for different reasons). After this, the bird sets himself on the juniper tree and sings his tale again.

Of course, the stepmom is practically losing it due to the presence of the bird and his singing, but the dad thinks otherwise. He decides to go out and see the bird despite his wife's anxiety.

Quite an interesting line, considering Mary's fate.

Once the bird finishes, he drops the golden chain as a gift to his dad. In response, the dad goes back inside and despite his pleasant encounter, the stepmom is terrified to the point of falling onto the floor. Holy shit. Anyway, the bird sings once more.

Marlene decides that she'll go out and see if the bird will give her something as well. And as the bird finishes, he drops the pair of red shoes down to her as a gift. Marlene became content and happy, putting on the new shoes and going back into the house.

In response, the stepmom...

The stepmom goes out to see if she'll be given something as well. Technically, it did happen. The bird dropped the millstone onto her, instantly killing her. We're back to Mary's death. And even after this, everything related to fire rises, and from that appears the son, no longer a bird, stew, or a corpse.

I don't think this is a “Caleb set the fire” type of thing. There's more evidence for the twins and the pastor anyway. What I do think this could lead us to is that Caleb at least saw it as a ghost.

Besides that, the line of the dad, son, and Marlene happily going inside and eating is the ending to The Juniper Tree. Which marks my ending to this post!

Thank you for reading my (probably over) analysis of the fairytale concerning Wick's lore. What do you guys think? Do you have any other thoughts about how the story could connect with Wick's lore?

#wick #wick game #wick hellbent games #wick horror game #wick 2015 #wick no way out #hellbent games

[hauntedziosportrait]

WHAT THE HELL GABE'S AJ AU / Epilogue 💫

🖋️ NOTES:

So erm. Hey jamblr. Here's that au I promised you. It is lacking a name. This is currently a huge HUGE HUGE wip but what I will say is i have had this headworld and story in my brain for a pretty scary amount of time. Now I am making the mature decision and taking a step from imagining animatics in my head to making an actual story!! As of right now, I have very intense artblock, so I'm bringing it upon myself to write for this AU instead!!

This was inspired by probably a lot of stuff, notably FOTS by Greeky and a whole bunch of AJ headcanons I have mashed together into a slightly salty stew.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

An insatiable amount of cringe

The very original idea of an apocalypse AU

Autism

Greely says a bad word and instantly gets sent to the seventh circle of hell

Enjoy jamblr. You stinky stinky individuals

---------------------------------------------

A delicate feather was carried by the wind from its birthplace and took time to settle as the wrath of the winds sailed it about the sky endlessly. This delicate feather- she, a delicate feather, had lesser expertise with a realm such as this. Despite never having seen it, she had heard innumerable myths and legends about it and had researched Jamaa throughout the ages. As she landed amidst the chaos and apocalypse, she spread the scrolls of her map with two eager wings. She then, excited as can be, soared up and above the lands to look down on it, comparing it to the papyrus in her grasp. Apart from some tiny geographic inaccuracies, she was mostly right about what she thought Jamaa would resemble. Her sole hyperfocus for as long as she had been living was right here in front of her. Her map and other tools of the trade were no longer necessary.

She went by the name Io'lani, and if she had friends, they would undoubtedly refer to her as Lani, but since she didn't, that was that. Her name meant "royal hawk", although she was neither royal nor a hawk. She had been around a very long time but mostly in captivity; her living quarters resided in some sort of third-dimensional space as she watched the centuries go by. Originally, she was created to be a faux offspring for the two guardian spirits to embrace and love as their own, the way parents would cherish a newborn babe, but their heavenly duties consistently got in the way of that. She wasn't necessarily forgotten, neglected, or abused- but her existence was merely an afterthought for the Sky Mother Mira, and barely a thought at all for the (mostly) unaware Zios.

Promptly, as a being of balance, and the product of the two holy deities that brought life to Jamaa, Io'lani's emergence in a time of destruction and despair was foretold in literature and books written by the most fanatical of scholars and theorists.

Io'lani emerged, of course. I just described her descent to you. The problem was that she wasn't quite sure what she was meant to do.

Her eyes darted as she stared at the gloomy surroundings. Buildings once bursting with life had been knocked down and torn apart for materials by scavenging jammers who were desperate to survive. The greenery and plants were now wilted and desaturated. The rivers, now a goopy inkwell. Once there were animals united by friendship, now wicked phantoms united by their desire to destroy and multiply. The hiss of black smoke filled Io'lani's lungs and she coughed, covering her beak with the edges of her mask.

This is not how Jamaa was supposed to be. Where were the cheers and laughter of water slides, movie theatres, and young mammals venturing out into the wild? Where was the happy haven that she had been assured existed? As she floated and landed at different locations, pointing to her whereabouts on the map, she analyzed her positioning with precise craftsmanship.

Crystal Sands' warm, golden shoreline had vanished and been replaced with a gritty, black, and grey substance that was scorching to the touch. Jamaa Township's characteristic swirling pavement was no longer present; instead, a sizable crevice divided the town's center in half. Phantoms emerged from these recesses, spreading their purple muck and cackling maliciously as they advanced to wilt the fauna.

Jamaa was not intended to be like this. Io'lani quietly descended and fell to her knees in front of a violet flag that had been suspended from the arcade's former roof. It had been shredded at the ends, painted with a sinister expression, and pasted all over the lifeless hamlet. The photograph was of the Phantom Queen, or PQ as she liked to be addressed by her subjects, and a message was scrawled in goopy black ink over her portrait.

And this was everywhere, mind you. The phantom propaganda was affixed to masonry and stone throughout the featureless plains. The Queen's vile grin was still present, along with the same stern call to repent. Io'lani scurried desperately and frantically, zipping to each of the wrecked locals on her map and urgently hoping to find at least someplace not entirely defunct. The statue of Zios was gone completely, presumably taken as a trophy by the Queen herself.

She slid against a jagged rock in Balloosh, the place least subject to destruction and where she had initially started her quest. To her knowledge, there was a power within the marsh- a strong power. She could feel the sheer electric of protection in her bones, the blazing blue light shimmering in her peripherals.

She wept silently, her tears ink-black and resembling the slime of the phantoms. Her tears flowed into her wings, and as she trembled and wept, her voice had a pitiful catching. Any sign of goodwill was absent. What's more, a sheer lack of both guardian spirits, ironically not doing a very good job at guarding or keeping up spirits. There was no point in visiting the place she had wanted to for epochs when it was torn and forgotten. No alphas to save the day, except the elder wolf sitting across from her, giving her a sympathetic glare.

Wait.

As she made touch with the blue-gray canine, she gasped and the emerald glint in her eyes resurfaced. Her thoughts searched for why he was so familiar to her until she caught on. This was Greely, first name unknown, the alpha philosopher with an interest in all things macabre. Except it wasn't quite Greely, for this wolf was bruised and had an ear torn, his golden bejeweled accessories cracked and corroded in ash. He looked older than what Io'lani had seen of him in stories, and less well-kept. He had a husky growl in his voice, reaching out an injured paw towards the skittish heron.

"I was hoping I'd... end up stumbling into you." He groaned.

"Do you know me?" Io'lani replied, her voice just above a whisper.

Greely bared his teeth, before turning his head and looking to the side. "I have... heard such things about you. You're the one who's meant to make this hell disappear. Are you deliberately wasting time here?"

Io'lani frowned as Greely raised his voice to her, the confusion and anxiety settling in her stomach. Greely's gaze pierced right through her and was even more intimidating than she had anticipated. Ultimately, she spoke up, clearing her throat and gripping her trusty map defensively in one wing.

"I don't know what exactly I'm meant to do."

Greely paused.

"Shit."

---------------------------------------------

👍

#So erm jamblyboos what did you think #Admittedly this is not the first time I have written for the AU but right now I am attempting to #Make it work per se #It revolves around the BANE OF MY EXISTENCE aka io'lani #but uhhh ideas criticism appreciation etc is very much encouraged!! #also if you like this feel free to drop me asks!! im currently trying to worldbuild and asking me questions would be so helpful #ALSO SUGGEST NAMES FOR THIS TOO!!! My brain ISN'T braining! #jamblr #animal jam #animal jam lore #animaljam #writing #animal jam au #greely aj #ajpw #ajpc #ajc

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Tithe 1/2(?)

Summary: Younger Gods AU "one-shot." What if the fae gave the little lightning god to Hell as their tithe?

You don't need to read YG to enjoy, all you need to know is: the reader character's lightning god father conceived her with a mortal to cheat a faerie deal. The fae put a magical collar of golden ash boughs around her neck to contain her.

Master list for further reading.

I said it would be a one-shot. I lied. This fucker has grown longer than I planned, and I'm also struggling with the second half, so enjoy what I have. Your interest will determine if I write the original smut/second half/ending I had planned, so seriously do drop a comment or message. Otherwise I will focus my efforts elsewhere (on more Sandman stuff, of course). This was a very, very experimental piece for me.

Behold! The first "one-shot" of the 500 follower celebration. Now there are 1000 of you. Holy shit.

Warnings: Hell, torture, neglect/abuse (non-sexual) of a minor

P.S. Do you know how hard it is to write a character with NO pronouns? Ruler of Hell indeed.

Part 1

Children tumble into Hell more often than the parents of the waking world dare believe. They confuse innocence with inexperience, trusting youth to protect their little angels. But even a child can learn to hate. To steal. To break rules and call down judgement. Children sin every day.

It is the same faulty logic humans use to assure each other bad men of the right faith will go to heaven, or that good people of the wrong faith might find a peaceful afterlife. They have thousands more excuses for their children, but they forget that children live before they die, and they do die, no matter what their fairy stories promise.

Children suffer accidents and illness, too. Anything can kill a vulnerable young soul. Some fall out of trees or high windows. Others perish in fiery wrecks with their parents at the wheel.

And some are sold.

Lucifer Morningstar knows this well, but when the fae King Alberich enters with his tithe, no mere mortal kneels before the throne of Hell. Alberich has grown desperate. He’s misjudged his sway over his court, and he knows if he forces a fae to serve as his court’s hundred year tithe to Hell when a half-mortal pet sits his feet, they will only keep him alive long enough to be the next gift to the infernal dominion.

This sacrifice hurts him, clearly. His frustration ticks with a muscle in his clenched jaw, rage curls his fists, and a sneer fouls the gracious words of a tithe-bringer. As he offers his growling pleasantries, the child’s hands keep twitching up to her neck, and Lucifer notes how the boughs of her collar twist and cinch and bite with the king’s rising temper.

It’s potent magic, and it’s tied to the king.

Alberich doesn’t intent to let the tithe live very long once she’s passed to new hands, and that is a slight difficult to ignore.

But it is not the collar or the wrathful king that snare the Morningstar’s focus.

Alberich must have been wicked indeed to inspire his little pet to look at the ruler of hell like that.

For the first time since the Fall, eyes turn to the Morningstar full of hope. Innocent eyes. Desperate eyes. A child’s eyes. Life, helpless rage, and tears that smell like petrichor draw the lord of Hell’s attention. If nothing is done to save her, the child will suffocate, and the tithe will be a useless gift. Another soul. Another husk of rotting flesh. But there’s a touch of the divine in this one, something attentive and precious in those hopeful eyes, and the Morningstar has the power to keep them.

“I accept your tithe gladly.”

The child shudders, finally clutching the collar as it jerks tight around her neck.

“We do not need the collar. Remove it.”

Alberich flushes and rushes to lie. “It is a gift, your majesty. To contr-”

“It. Is. Not.”

There is no doubt, no room to debate. It’s clear to all Alberich’s machinations are transparent as glass, that’s he’s bested and cornered, that he ought to bow his head swiftly before the Morningstar’s loyal Lilim takes it from him.

The Morningstar smiles sweetly, and asks in a voice like honey, “Did you hope to cheat me, Alberich? If I wanted dead tithes, I would ask you to dig up graveyards to fetch old bones. Do you think we need protection from a demi-god child?” A short silence is enough for the king and his entourage to hear the howls of the damned and the gleeful roars of demons torturing them. Even the wind’s voice trembles in agony as it stirs the fires of the throne room.

“Now remove the collar, and perhaps I’ll consider letting you remove yourself from my realm intact. At least for the next hundred years.”

He takes the warning and bows to the will of the Morningstar. He utters a word that sounds like a newborn’s cry and an old man’s death rattle. It whispers with the pulse of a shadow heart leeching the pulse of flesh and blood. Around the child’s neck, the boughs wither and crumble away in golden dust, leaving the ring of bruises, cuts, and scars bare for the first time since infancy.

“Now leave us.”

The fae king does as he is told, and Mazikeen stands by the door to defend her sovereign’s privacy. The Morningstar rises from the throne, descending the steps of the dais. From the floor, the girl stares up with hope practically burning in her face, and tears of relief drip off her chin, onto her knuckles, where her hands linger over her throat, amazed.

Long fingers take the tears and the chin and lift them up to better see the wonder shining there.

“Have you a name, sweet little storm god?”

She tries to bow her head, but the Morningstar’s grip forbids it, so she lowers her eyes until Lucifer’s tutting forbids that, too. Returning her full attention to her new keeper’s gaze, she finally says, “They called me precious and pet. They said I didn’t need the name my mother gave me.”

Lucifer runs a thumb along the tears, marveling at the adoration trapped in each drop. Childish devotion, pure and sweet and belonging only to the lord of Hell.

Lucifer Morningstar smiles.

“Well, then. We shall call you Rain.”

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Rain understands torment, and although the Hell in which she finds herself now has no sky, or flowers, or green grass, she prefers it to the first. She breathes in dust and sulfur, but she breathes.

It is still Hell. The ash, blood, and burned face of Lucifer’s Lilim remind her. The king has given her to a greater monarch, the collar is gone, and she will never see the sun again.

She will be sad later, she decides, because – at least for the moment – she has a mighty protector.

Demons leer when they come to seek an audience with their sovereign, and a few ask the Morningstar for an opportunity to break in the new tithe. Lucifer responds by lifting Rain off the floor and onto satin-covered knees before dispatching the ones who dare hunger for that which does not belong to them.

Word travels fast, and soon the demons learn not to ask. Not to look.

The ruler of Hell picks dead flowers and old leaves out of Rain’s hair, flicking them into the open fires dotting the room. Long, pale fingers examine Ran’s neck, murmuring questions that make it easy to believe the ruler of Hell cares about the aches and pains left by the collar. It’s easy to believe, and she desperately wants to. After all, the collar is gone by ruler of Hell’s command.

The sunless days of Hell see her in the Morningstar’s company or they do not see her at all.

“We must keep you safe,” the monarch tells her before putting her in a little cell that first night. “When you are not with me, prying eyes, claws, and teeth may find you. You will rest here, and I will return.”

She spends the first night with her heart in her throat, convinced this is her punishment for eternity. She’s had angry thoughts, made vengeful little plans. Karma must repay her for those, and she will never escape this little hole. A normal child would sleep, but she has yet to learn that skill.

When the Morningstar returns, she decides the ruler of Hell couldn’t be better named. The monarch kept true to every word, and her hope flares back to life. As Lucifer guides her by the hand throughout the endless day, she tries very hard to listen, to watch. She knows she is small, and she must learn everything in this strange, horrifying place. She must repay the Morningstar and ensure someone comes to fetch her from the cell every day. Kindness never grew from nothing. She must give Lucifer reasons to remember her, because even she is old enough to know being forgotten in Hell leads to the darkest fates.

She learns to answer to her new name quickly. It pleases the Morningstar, and she feels safest when her monarch is pleased.

Food arrives unasked for, and though it isn’t good food – “There is nothing good in Hell, sweet” – it fills her belly. Except on particularly bad days. When Lucifer loses. When the Morningstar is thwarted and angry. Rain stays in the dark, and food doesn’t appear the first day – or sometimes the second – once she’s released. But her fasts never last long, and the Morningstar delights in feeding her well again, worrying she’s grown thin, becoming a doting nurturer over the damage inflicted by the Morningstar’s own hand.

Lucifer keeps her dressed in clean, flowing gowns that are nearly robes. Soft greys fold around her, and a subtle sheen of every imaginable color glistens in just the right light. She knows she’s marked in some way, not only by the company she keeps, but by the care given to her appearance.

But it’s the same as the food – the fabric is beautiful, but never enough to keep warm away from the fires in Lucifer’s chambers. It gives the ruler of Hell more reasons to keep her physically near.

Even in Hell, she grows. Soon she’s too big to sit on knees, so she sits beside them, resting her head where the Morningstar can reach her hair. Or she waits in the shadows with Mazikeen, the only place beyond the cell and the Morningstar’s reach she is told she is safe.

She mistakes her first sleep for death, and when the Morningstar opens the door, she asks if she’s still alive.

“Of course, you are.” Lucifer wears a mask of concern, skin deep, but animated by genuine curiosity. “What made you fear you had? Did you have a bad dream?”

“I don’t know.”

“You cannot remember?”

“I don’t know if I slept. I’ve never tried it before.”

In the following days, Lucifer riddles out the truth – the old magic is finally fading, and Rain not only can but must sleep. The Morningstar wants to watch, and instead of tucking her away behind the door, the ruler of Hell has her rest on a bench.

She doesn’t drift into an easy sleep. She falls. It scares her awake again, and the Morningstar keeps her there, promising her mortal mother’s blood will give her dreams if she can conquer her fear of the endless nothing behind her thoughts.

Because she believes the Morningstar, she tries. Because the Morningstar has her hope, she dares brave the fall. Again and again, sleeping and waking like a storm tide striking the high cliffs.

Until she is stands in a spring-green meadow with boiling grey clouds overhead. Before she can wonder over the magic that has pulled her out of Hell, the clouds burst, and sheets of rain wash over her face with a purr of thunder.

For the first time, she wakes with regret, and the Morningstar knows.

“Of what did you dream?”

“A storm.”

Curiosity sated, Lucifer returns her to the cell the next night.

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She dreams in the dark cell, chasing the scent of ozone as she wakes. The Morningstar greets her in the dim light, and she takes up her role as Lucifer’s attendant, ward, and distraction depending on her monarch’s mood. She excels in each position, and although there’s never a drop of precipitation in Hell, her name reflects her fluidity of purpose.

Rain.

The Morningstar’s relief.

“Every tortured soul in Hell yearns for something soft and bright,” the Morningstar tells her. “If you would walk among them, they’d tear you apart just to keep a piece of you.”

What the Morningstar doesn’t say is that the ruler of Hell suffers the same curse as the lowliest soul, that Lucifer craves something soft and bright just as much as the demons clamoring in the courtyard below the royal balcony wish to destroy it.

Time softens caution, and there is plenty of time in Hell. Eventually, one of the demons dares again, and this time they do not ask.

She’s on the precipice of becoming a woman, and her clothes have been tailored to fit her new shape. Her cell cradles her like a cold womb, a place where she can pause her existence, perhaps be unmade if she stays long enough. Is she even real when the Morningstar has no need of her? She overcame her fear of the dark years ago. Now it is only a comfortable dread.

One night – or the time she’s come to think of as night – when the door screeches and shrieks under long claws, she jumps awake. The comfort in her darkness evaporates, and all she knows is that the shadows will make a flimsy shield if the door should fail. She hears it bend and crack, beaten by something large and hungry.  

Her cell offers no space to retreat. It is made for her alone, so there is no need, and she may only have good things at the Morningstar’s side.

Russet light stabs through the cracks, overtaking the blackness inch by inch, and bestial eyes peer through. Long claws hook through the gaps, tearing away metal and stone until the door hangs bent and ruined. No longer an obstacle. Only a prophecy.

The demon’s voice crackles as it reaches for her. “Thirsty. Need the Rain, Rain, Rain cloud.”

White eyes dripping ichor follow her as dodges the first grab, but it fills the door, and she only delays the inevitable by seconds. It rushes into her cell, pressing her flat against the wall as claws long as her arm wrap around her, holding her like a toy with limbs pinned in its grip.

“Give us Rain, Rain, Rain.”

Its grip squeezes the air from her lungs. She can’t even scream as it drags her away, out the palace and through the gates. When it finds a quiet place it likes under a bridge, it rearranges its grip, and she takes a deep breath to call for help, to pray for the Morningstar.

Jagged teeth snap into her torso, and she screams instead. The demon’s mouth is so large, it eclipses her lower ribs and the soft places above her hips with one bite. It has row upon row of teeth, some like a shark, others like a lion, a few blunt like a man’s, and they all hurt in terrible, different ways. They cut, and pierce, and grind her into pieces as her scream fades.

She hangs limp in its jaws.

It tilts its head back so her blood pours down its throat, tongue like sandpaper demanding more from every inch it can reach. It isn’t enough, and the demon shakes its head, tearing fresh gashes to staunch its thirst. Her next scream is only a gasp. The demon groans.

“Tasty Rain, Rain, Rain. Good Rain, Rain, Rain.” It speaks with its mouth full, every syllable drawing the teeth out and down again – sometimes into new bites, sometimes into old holes.

Her lungs rattle with blood, and the red warmth rolls from her broken skin to drip over her face, down between her toes.

She’s hard to kill, Mazikeen told her, but she won’t survive much longer in the demon’s grip.

A sense she only discovered after the Morningstar removed the collar stirs. It is wrath carried by a hurricane, quick lightning begging to escape and strike. It reaches to the sky, but the air, moisture, and electricity it summons have no place in Hell, and nothing answers her call. She feels like she’s tugging on a rope attached to a wall. Pointless. Hopeless.

Her only hope is in the Morningstar.

“What are you doing?”

She knows the voice. So does the demon. It drops her, and she lands with a wet slap and a puff of ash. The dust tickles her throat as she tries to force her fluttering lungs to draw a proper breath, but her diaphragm is torn, and instead of air, blood bubbles over her lips.

The demon actually brushes more ash over her mutilated body, like a dog trying to bury the evidence of its misbehavior.

“Is that my sweet Rain?”

She can’t answer, but the Morningstar’s voice is light as spun sugar. The demon’s master already knows. This is a game played on the way to the gallows.

“Fou – Found her.” It isn’t exactly a lie, but the half-truth won’t save the demon while her blood still drips from its teeth.

“I can see that.” The Morningstar steps closer, and the edge of a white robe brushes through Rain’s vision. A rattle of chainmail announces Mazikeen as she kneels, turning Rain so the Morningstar can view her face.

She stares up with the same dreadful hope she offered upon their first meeting. Help me or kill me, but make this suffering end. Only you, only you, only…

She will miss her dreams if she dies, but that is all. She has nothing else. Even her body and soul belong to Hell, to Lucifer. Death is transformation, not escape.

The cool, dry air turns her blood tacky, and ash sticks to her lashes as she blinks up, waiting for a merciful blade or a healing hand. She’ll take whatever she’s given, because her fortunes begin and end in the Morningstar’s will.

The fair ruler of Hell smiles down at Rain, dismissing the demon with the barest wave. “Set the hounds him. Let them have their fill. He should give them good sport after such a grand meal.”

As the demon flees, squealing, the Morningstar’s eyes stay with Rain, whose own vision begins to fade as she fights for consciousness. It’s a battle she’s already lost, but she clings to awareness just long enough to press her face into the cool hand that strokes her cheek.

Healing in Hell never comes as a blessing. It’s used to keep fragile bodies alive for more pain, to restore enough life and vitality for the suffering to continue. That alone makes many beg to just die, but Hell thrives on excess. Medical care in Hell is its own torture. Magic twists bones back into place slowly, grinding the nerves beyond the point of agony. Mending flesh itches and burns. Through it all, the demonic power crackles like flame through the patient’s blood. Her veins glow with it, and she’s reminded once again that life in Hell is no gift.

The Morningstar hovers throughout the procedure, graceful but tense, full of unwelcome emotions the monarch easily stirs into rage. When at last the blood is gone, the holes mended, and only tears run down Rain’s face, Lucifer steps forward to take her face in hand, peering deep, searching for something she doesn’t understand. Something already given, or something she never had. In the Morningstar’s grip, she feels small, much less than the woman she’s becoming and once more the child fighting to breathe on the throne room floor, dazzled and horrified by the greatest of all angels.

“This will not happen again.” Those words should offer comfort – finally – but they echo like a strike on the bell at the outer gates. An end curls out of a beginning, and they twist into a new era like a choking vine.

Lucifer moves her cell to the edge of the royal chambers, and a single lock becomes twenty. Rain listens to their clicks and clangs as a lullaby in the dark. They are the last thing she hears before she sleeps, and the first thing to break the silence of a new day.

Mazikeen brings a veil. When demons come to the throne room, Rain pulls it over her face. Only in the most private moments, when none but Mazikeen stands guard, and the Morningstar is confident in the room’s security may Rain take it off.

It isn’t enough.

The Morningstar has strings of bells forged and chained around Rain’s ankles. Even if she cannot scream, someone will hear her move.

As if anyone would try after the last demon to steal her away becomes steaming dog shit. The Morningstar ensures his dying screams carry throughout the realm, a warning and a promise to any creature foolish enough to take what belongs to the ruler of Hell.

She has become something the Morningstar fears to lose.

----------------------------------------------

When the Dream Lord comes for his helm, Lucifer tucks Rain away in her cell. She doesn’t see him, but his visit shapes her future. Mazikeen opens the door once he leaves, and Rain smells the brimstone tint of her master’s rage. The demon hands her food and water and closes the door again, because she is a good servant, and when their monarch has calmed, Rain will have a purpose again.

The Morningstar does not mean to forget, but there are other things to consider, to mull over and hate – too many to remember the little storm god.

It’s fortunate the little storm god is accustomed to loneliness. She can’t remember a time she wasn’t at least a little lonely, and she struggles to imagine anything better than the days spent beside the Morningstar. There isn’t love, there isn’t trust, but there is something, and a starving child – or woman – will always choose something over the void. Time alone won’t kill her. She’ll emerge refreshed and hungry for the Morningstar’s attention, which will make it all the better.

With food in her belly and the locks thrown against her, Rain has nothing to do but sleep.

There are no stars in Hell. No storm clouds, either. Hell has no real weather and no real sky, because weather is change, change is life, and Hell is for the dead. So, when she looks up and sees cumulonimbus scudding along a lavender sunset, she knows she’s in a dream.

She falls back into the long grass. It feels impossibly soft, gentler than her distant memories of rose petals and rabbit fur.

Misting rain washes over the field, kissing life into skin starved of the sun in over a decade – maybe longer; days and nights stretch or shrink by the Morningstar’s whim. It could be a century since she heard a real wind combing through dry cattails.

Life makes so much noise. Even quiet places have a pulse.

She breathes the free air, and the clouds breathe with her.

Eyes closed, she tries to pull the dream into her heart, into her lungs, and gut, and all the hidden places it might survive a little while in the infernal realm. It’s easy to forget she was born for lightning and hurricanes when her life is full of black marble, ash, and flame. She’s learned what she is by absence rather than discovery.

The dream hurts, aches with the illusion of freedom, and she won’t give it up until the choice leaves her hands. Eventually, she’ll have to wake and drink water. Eventually, she’ll have to return to Hell and eat food. Eventually. Not now. Not for a while yet.

She watches the purple sky turn blue, then black as the imagined atmosphere fades, and brighter lights make way for the cosmos. Millions of stars, many too close and colorful to be real, glitter overhead. The Milky Way bends through the chaos, and it looks so tangible she wonders if she could walk along it, out of her field and up into space.

But that requires getting up, and she’s happy where she is.

The night fades, and the Morningstar welcomes the dawn. Only a hint of peach flushes across the horizon before fresh storm clouds roll in, growling with thunder and flashes of lightning. She sits up to welcome it, and the downpour lashes her face clean of yesterday’s tears.

She spends another three days in the meadow before the tug of her body’s needs shakes the ground beneath her. Eventually has arrived, and she rises to meet it. As the colors fade and her mind gathers itself to leave, she sees a dark shape at the edge of field, waiting under the trees. He could’ve been there for hours, but she only just notices him before the dream folds in on itself.

She wakes, and pours water down her aching throat. Once that settles, she takes another bite of bread, and wriggles into a better position against the stone while her stomach settles. She has no idea how long she’ll be in her cell this time. Mazikeen’s gift suggests it may be months, so she consumes her rations carefully. Just enough to live, to dream a little longer.

And just like that, she falls asleep again.

The dark figure waits at the tree line, and the continuous thread jars her so badly she wonders if she never woke in the first place. Her reality could be the dream, the dream the truth. But life isn’t kind enough for that, and the fantastic hope disintegrates the moment she imagines it.

However, she understands as she holds the stranger’s gaze through the storm that she isn’t alone.

There is a stranger in her world of longing, and he waits for her. Eyes like her night sky call through the wind and sheeting rain, and she thinks she may know them. Did they watch her from beside the Milky Way? Has he spied on her?

Questions string tight between them, a link that pulls, and his gaze becomes a summons.

Once he’s confident she’ll follow, he turns and walks into the shadows between the oaks and sycamores. She leaves the meadow and steps willingly into the dark, where the rain cascades in slow, heavy drops from leaf – to leaf – to the forest floor. It patters in whispers over twisted roots, stirring the loam to perfume the air with sweet decay and new life under the shelter of the old wood.

He waits under a maple tree, its leaves flushed scarlet.

When she nears, he says, “Hell has not suffered a living dreamer in an age.”

He feels out of place in her dream, a stranger, but he knows her, and even if she’s never met him, she still recognizes something about him. It isn’t just his eyes. It’s the shadows under his feet, the way the light reflects off his skin. He could be glimmer of lightning in distant clouds or the yearning in ancient trees reaching for fresh rain.

“You know me?”

“I am Dream of the Endless. I know all dreamers.” He looks down, scrutinizing, and she raises her chin to meet his examination.

She has nothing to hide, and she refuses to cower in her own imagination. In this place, unlike all others, her dignity and will are her own.

“I know all dreamers,” he repeats, softer, “and you have such long dreams.”

He is asking something, but she can’t grasp what he wants. Does he want her reassurance that she’s well? Does he want her gone from his realm? To drag her sulfur stink and lonely wishes somewhere else?

She cannot live without them.

“Are you going to take them from me?”

He shifts to face her rather than the tree. Whatever he wanted to hear, she didn’t say it. His stern expression flickers with a ghost of surprise. “No.”

Habit demands she bow her head, compose herself and find something to make him warm to her. A pacifying performance. She knows the way of rulers, but she doesn’t want to play the humble subject, and it is her dream. He says he won’t take it, so she will not compromise it with false deference.

“If my long dreams bother you, blame yourself. The Morningstar has forgotten me because of you. There’s no escape from my cell but these dreams.”

His nostrils flare, and the light sharpens in his eyes. “Are you behind the bolted door in the Light Bringer’s chambers?”

“Yes.”

He comes closer, toe-to-toe, like he wants to touch her, examine her, but he keeps his hands in the pockets of his robe.

“I saw it when I came for my helm. I wondered what great terror the Morningstar would lock away so securely, yet keep so near. Now I see.” He doesn’t reach out. Doesn’t close the distance. But his eyes trace her face, lingering and searching. A smirk almost too quick to see flickers through his expression. “It was no monster in the vault but a treasure.”

“A tithe,” she corrects, “in a prison.”

She does not like to think those words, but they are the truth, and her dreamscape inspires honesty, all the parts of herself she cannot embrace in her waking life. Her storms and her meadows. If he wants to walk with her here, he must weather it all.

The Dream Lord’s lashes flutter, and other tales hide in his eyes. It isn’t only her pain he sees when he looks down at her, snarling against his memories.

Now she sees his question.

“You cannot save me, Dream Lord.”

He closes his eyes, and she returns to the meadow. It’s like the whole forest steps away, so one instant she’s with him, and the next she’s alone.

Part 2

#morpheus x reader smut #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman fanfic #lucifer morningstar

[proship-angelbunny]

Hi, can I ask you how you came up with Percy and what inspirations did you use to create it? And also, some facts about Alastor x Percy, for example about how they started dating

Oh hello anon, I’m happy to know people are so enthusiastic about my little guy!! Here’s the story on how I made Percy. So I knew since I watched ep 1 that I wanted to make a oc for shipping with alastor, and since I’m a big fan of age gaps I knew they’d probably be a young character (plus shota/kodo characters give me sooo much gender), which led me to the concept of a young boy getting groomed into being Alastor’s plaything. That morphed into the kid being Al’s adopted kid (because I figured it would be way easier for him to have unfettered access to the child then) which led me to killing off/removing Percy’s birth parents so they wouldn’t interfere with the grooming I mean totally healthy and normal relationship! Originally I had it were Percy killed his parents, but that felt a bit too edgy for my liking, plus having him be a orphan allowed me to make him even more traumatized and neglected (because historical orphanages weren’t the best..) which would explain why he ran off any trusted alastor. The bit about him being a yandere for another boy actually came from a asmr my friend Lyra sent me (link here)! Honestly the hardest part of making Percy was getting his design right, I had bits and pieces picked out since the beginning (rose covering/replacing one of his eyes, rabbit features, possible doll/stuffed animal imagery) but getting them all to work together and feel right was a challenge. That was until I rediscovered my old blog @r0tt3n-rabb1t and realized how perfectly the creepy cute/lovecore/doll vibes fit Percy’s character (plus the contrast of him looking so incredibly innocent but being a sick little yandere was too intriguing to pass up) so I made a mockup for them in gl2 and now I’m just looking for a opportunity to commission actual art of them (I’ll post his finalized design soon, just want to make some finishing touches :3)

As for how they started dating, it wasn’t the typical sweet and innocent love story, oh not at all. To quickly summarize, Percy had just ended up In hell after brutally butchering his orphanage’s residents (mini fact that Alastor actually originally owned the orphanage Percy grew up in before his death) Percy is still pretty heartbroken over his last darling’s rejection and somehow finds out that alastor is a absolute creep/utterly obsessed with his own son (like collected Percy’s baby teeth and used underwear + other fun yandere thing) and is of course freaked out by it (because reminder he’s a LITERAL CHILD) he makes the stupid decision to confront his father about it (or more accurately Alastor catches him snooping) and Percy gets punished severely (leading to the rose replacing his eye) once Percy wakes up from the blood loss (because HIS EYE WAS LITERALLY RIPPED OUT) he finds himself getting cuddled up by alastor (who’d been flirting/grooming Percy to fall for him since like day one) and is so mentally broken/traumatized/manipulated that when alastor makes a move Percy doesn’t stop him..and that’s how they fell in love!! <3

(More rosecest stuff under the cut because golly it’s getting long)

Alastor is absolutely the dom in the relationship, he’s overprotective and so incredibly jealous (do NOT look at Percy for too long or you WILL be killed) and just generally a all around hard/scary dom

Percy’s demon form was actually created by alastor using his eldrich powers (he somehow bound Percy’s soul to it while the boy was alive which permanently secured Percy as his/that he would end up in hell, and gave alastor so much more power over Percy then he has with any other owned soul) Percy is also a lot weaker then most sinners for that reason (and it keeps him trapped and helpless)

Rosie does know about their relationship and is totally cool with it! (Percy actually talked to her about it a few times before they were official of course Alastor listened in on these talks)

Alastor tries to keep the more..provocative parts of hell hidden from Percy to keep him dependent away from all those dirty perverts who’d surely do something awful to him <3

These two are H O R N Y they can’t keep their hands off each other when alone, there’s a 9/10 chance they’re making out/possibly getting intimate as soon as the door is shut

Did I mention they’re kinky as hell (pun completely intended)? I mean Percy does call alastor daddy for a reason… ;) /hj

No one in the hotel knows about their relationship, Angel and husk has a sneaky suspicion something’s going on but neither of them has seen anything…yet

Percy does attend overlord meetings with alastor and Rosie, he really tries to pay attention but poor baby isn’t cut out for politic

Percy does have to deal with some fun side effects from being a rabbit/doll demon, mainly his face is incredibly easy to break (skin is the same as real porcelain) and easily upset stomach (because rabbit tummies aren’t the best) oh and mating season, but that’s for a different post Thankfully he can eat meat with no real issue and him and Al often go out and try any butcher they can find both their selection of meats and the demon running it

#honestly hope this helped out anon #I got a little excited about these two(as y’all can tell lol) #I love them so much #so fucked up and evil <33 #bloody broadcast #rosecest #proship selfship #hazbin hotel #self ship #alastor #hazbin alastor #proship #selfship #🐇 #🥀💌📻 #hazbin original character #hazbin rosie #hazbin rp #hazbin oc #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor #villainous f/o #villain f/o #villian f/o #yandere f/o #dark selfship #selfship community

[poliodeuces]

do you ever just think how gentaro's favourite food is watermelon, a large, expensive fruit, and one that is usually shared with someone else. do you ever think abt how, if scenario liar's lyrics have some sincerity in them, this is a luxury item when he was a child, but as an adult something he can buy as he pleases now w his own money. do you ever think abt how growing up he's never been truly alone bc he's got his brother to keep him company...eating watermelon in the short hokkaido summer...engaging in their favourite hobby of telling each other stories, making up ones abt the people they see...

more rambling abt the yumeno under the cut (it's long)

i'll get this out of the way first: it's a popular headcanon that gentaro's older brother is an identical twin, extrapolating from gentaro's novel summaries that we get a brief glimpse on in the first chapters of the fp+m manga, and last year, in the gendice duet, murder at the magic house. couple that with the ominous implication of him impersonating a known yumeno-sensei (who happens to be his brother), far removed from what gentaro used to be. i Love my possibly committing identity-theft, driven by vengeance blorbo. it would be very funny if kr pulls a fast one on us and theyre not identical at all, so let's enjoy the art and the speculation while nothing's confirmed yet wwww they already did that by revealing that gentaro's "friend in the hospital" is actually a family member

there's so little we know about gentaro's home life. there's tiny bits of it, like how much his clothes mean to him, how he would starve himself writing bc of deadlines, that there's a specific cafe he hangs out in, etc. but unlike rmd or dice, details abt his origins are p hazy...scenario liar is an entire backstory that gets shut down at the end by claiming it's all a lie. but who's believing this admission anyway

my headcanon is that the yumeno were born and lived in nowhere snowy mountain town, hokkaido (just to explain his birthdate being a wintry april 1st). they were orphaned and taken care of by their grandparents. theyre not well-off and p isolated. i like to think that w the aging of their grandparents, they depend more on eo as they get older. fast forward to some time in the future, their grandparents pass, and they both move out, maybe together, leaving behind their home mostly empty with nothing of sentimental value but the house itself. there's no one else known in line to keep or take care of the house, and it's left without the possibility of renovation. what's the point of that anyway?

i like to think this scenario of their childhood home, abandoned and dilapidated from years of neglect, having a sort of local legend surrounding it, that the house is haunted. someone goes in that house in indefinite times of the year. if you strain your ears enough you might hear faint footfalls from the inside, or a gentle voice carried by the wind. in reality it's just gentaro visiting for no particular reason. it's an empty childhood home.

last year i made a drawing w a similar lighting (and vague setting) to the one above, completely unintentional. he's all alone now....

i based it on one of the stuff gentaro said on hypradio: he likes to eat watermelon while sitting on the engawa, and he has spat so much watermelon seeds overtime that he's grown a garden of his own. he says it's a lie of course.

while there's no evidence to prove or disprove that gentaro now lives in a house with an engawa (in shibuya!), i get sad thinking abt him living in a space as large as that in the middle of a busy city, alone...

one of my favourite things abt gentaro is although he shares the then-nihilism of fp, that everything has no meaning or purpose, he's not Entirely self-destructive like ramuda or dice. gentaro doesn't seem to think he's disposable especially when he's got some avenging to do. in fact he tries so hard to be invulnerable.

the irony is that theres very little of his own personhood to destroy anyway. what's there to dispose? even confessing, although he says it's a lie, "i'm not yumeno gentaro." in a way he's done with the destruction, done with the death, and he's well in the middle of decay— and decaying is a process full of life, it is less about reducing the body into smaller and smaller pieces than it is about being nourishment...gentaro's desire is to keep telling stories that might bring joy, even if it meant he'll have to keep lying his whole life....

i feel that i have more to say abt gentaro and his brother but my grasp on the english language is getting slippery the more i type lol. he drives me insane <3

#hypmic #not an analysis it's really just....thoughts abt gentaro #imagine being so emotional abt a faceless character #this is an impulsive post i just need to get some words out #hypnosis mic #gentaro yumeno #france art

[babyjakes]

forever and a day | 52. retraining.

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summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.

characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)

warnings | AU similar enough to OU to include spoilers to many Marvel movies (Age of Ultron and beyond). action and fight scenes with violence and killing. injuries/mild gore. mature themes related to and semi-graphic depictions of child abuse/neglect, past CSA and CSM, and their aftermath (emaciation, wounds, scarring, etc). medical abuse (including sterilization) and experimentation. ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). medical treatment of CSM and other aftermath of abuse.trauma-informed therapeutic treatment of ECT. minor mentions of disordered eating. themes relating to abuse of power/authority and immoral interrogation tactics including SA (with brief depictions.) evil!Tony Stark.

[Steve]

"Tell me, Mr. Rogers," the kind young lady had said as she sat beside me in one of the light brown armchairs in the living room, holding a small notepad on her lap where she was jotting down points from our first discussion together.

"You can call me Steve," I had interjected at that point, causing her to look up for a moment and smile. Her eyes shined with a certain gentleness through their soft shades of grey and blue, helping me to relax ever so slightly through the daunting interview.

"Steve," she corrected, nodding politely. "Tell me, Steve, what are your biggest worries for Willa? Or what are the challenges you find most serious when it comes to her emotional and behavioral wellbeing?"

"Oh god," I had said, shaking my head at the overwhelming question. "I... I don't even know where to begin. I mean... she's just been through so much. And even though she's been out of captivity for a decent amount of time, she still functions as if she's in constant danger. I just don't know how to show her that she's safe, that she can let her walls down now and let me take care of her."

"That makes sense," Jenny had said, scribbling down a few more lines on her notepad. "I'm planning on completing a proper set of evaluations to offer a clinical diagnosis, but from what I've already spoken with Dr. Banner about, my best guess is that she's probably developed a severe case of post-traumatic stress disorder. Given the nature of the trauma she endured, it'll likely take a lot of time and therapy to help her overcome some of the emotional barriers she's built up as defense mechanisms."

"Yeah, that's what I figured," I had mumbled.

"Do you have any idea of where you'd like to start? Because she is so young, and you're her primary caregiver, I'd like to involve you as much as possible in her treatment as long as you feel comfortable participating."

"Of course," I had agreed, "I want to do whatever I can to help. And as far as where to begin... I'm not sure. I think the thing I worry about the most at the moment is Willa's inability to accept help. There have been several occasions where she's hurt herself or gotten herself into a situation where she's needed assistance, but she's just been too terrified of coming to me for help to actually let me know. And when I've realized it and tried to help her, she's resisted me as much as she could. I'm not exactly sure where her fear comes from, but I'm assuming it's rooted in what Hydra did to her and how they must've trained her to not ever ask for things." After pausing for a moment, I had added, "I mean, I guess it's not even just asking for help. It's really asking for anything. If I try to get her opinion on something, or ask her what she wants to do for the day, she'll clearly be thinking of an answer, but completely unwilling to share it at all."

"That does sound very problematic," Jenny had nodded, "even though she's trying her best not to be. It makes me think of a few specific documents I read out of her files from Hydra; they were recordings of training sessions she went through that had originally been written in another language, so Dr. Banner wasn't able to understand them. After running them through a translator, they revealed that when she was a toddler, her captors had put her through electric shock treatment to train her to not seek help or comfort." My heart had dropped into the pit of my stomach when she revealed this, but I simply nodded, sensing she had more to share. "They would put a shock collar on her, similar to one that might be used on a dog, and set her on the floor. A few feet away, they would place something she might have wanted. Sometimes it was food, after they had starved her for days. Other times, it was a person. Initially, her instincts would drive her to approach another human in hopes of being held or interacted with, as children that small naturally need and seek affection. But as soon as she would move towards them, or the food, or whatever it was she was being trained with, she would be electrocuted through the neck. Eventually, this changed the fundamental patterns in her brain so that she would no longer pursue things she wanted or needed. They continued the treatment until she would cower back in fear as soon as the food was placed down on the floor."

"Oh my god," I had breathed out, angry tears built up in the back of my eyes. "And she was just a toddler?"

"I believe the training began when she was two," the doctor replied. A sick, nauseous feeling bubbled up in my stomach as I processed the information I had been given. No wonder why she never asks for help, never asks for anything, for that matter, I had thought to myself. "It wouldn't surprise me if as soon as she's offered help or faced with having to ask for things now, she's automatically reminded of her experiences and even still physically feels what her body was put through during that training. Even though concrete memories aren't generally formed during toddlerhood, the body simply has fascinating ways of remembering traumas from any age."

"My poor Willa," I had mumbled in defeat, absolutely disgusted by what Hydra had put her through. "Now I feel bad for not being more patient with her; I had no idea something that horrific had happened to make her afraid of me in that way. How do we- how can I help her? How can I show her that it's safe now, that she won't ever be put through anything like that again?"

"Well, it's going to be a long process," Jenny had admitted. "But what I can tell you is that every time she experiences something that contradicts her past experiences, her brain is relearning the ways of the world. This process is called 'reparenting'; I am assuming Dr. Banner might have mentioned it to you?" I nodded, having recognized the term. "It's going to be very hard and very frightening for her for a long time. And the fear might never go away completely. But eventually, little by little, she should start building up more confidence in her safety with you. The most important thing will be for you to always be as patient and gentle with her as you can, as this is what her brain will be replacing all of her previous experiences with."

"Okay, that makes sense," I had said. "How do I start? What can I do?"

"There are some exercises you can run through with her; they're similar to exposure therapy, but more trauma-centered and focused directly on reparenting. I'll give her a simple one today at the end of our session together, something that hopefully won't feel like too much to start out with. I'll let you run it with her, just the two of you, and next time we meet, we can discuss how it went."

"Alright. An exercise?" I had asked, not completely understanding what she meant.

"I'll just give her something to ask you for. If you'd like, you can initiate it with her after I leave so that she doesn't have the pressure of bringing it up herself." I nodded, the idea making sense as something that might help slowly easing her into growing more comfortable with advocating for herself.

"Great. I'll be sure to do it with her then," I had promised the doctor.

Which brings me to this moment, in which Willa is standing before me, her big green eyes filled with tears as she stares at the hard-wood floor beneath her bare feet, her bottom lip trembling violently as she attempts to swallow down her fear. Jenny left about an hour ago, and I was sure to give the little girl a bit of time to recover and breathe before deciding to bring up the exercise with her. Just moments ago, I called her into the kitchen, and as soon as I told her I wanted to try the exposure, as the doctor had called it, her mood went completely out the window.

"Sweetheart," I say as I kneel down just a few feet away from the shaking child, keeping my voice as soft and unintimidating as I can. "Remember when Jenny talked to you today about trying to ask Daddy for something? Did she talk to you about that?" I remind her. Not daring to look up at me, the little girl's terrified body language immediately gives away the answer to my (probably pointless) question. "Hey, Willa-bug," I murmur, an image popping up in my head of the poor child's neck wrapped in an electric collar, helping me maintain the gentle disposition I need. "It's okay, peanut; you can do it. You can always ask Daddy for things, okay? You'll never be in trouble for it, never ever," I promise, but unsurprisingly, my words seem to do little to change her mind.

"P-please," the poor thing whimpers, the word seeming to be her go-to plea when she's too afraid to say much of anything else.

"'Please' what, baby?" I coo, hating to see her so distraught. "There's no need for 'please's with me, sweetheart," I remind her carefully, "there's no scary here, Willa. No scary at all."

"Please, please don't," she begs, a single tear trailing down to the tip of her rosy nose as she sniffles quietly. "Jenny said you-... you're gonna retrain me; please don't g-get the collar, please don't."

"Retrain you?" I ask, my brow furrowing immediately in concern. "Willa, sweetheart, did she explain to you what that means? It's not the same kind of training you did with Hydra, honey. It's retraining your brain to not be scared of- hey, sweetheart, hey," I hum, only growing more worried as the little girl's chest begins to rise and fall more rapidly, her panic clearly escalating despite my efforts to reassure her.

"P-please, please don't," she hiccups again fearfully.

"There's no collar, Willa. We don't do that here, of course we don't. The retraining just means we're gonna show you it's safe, doll. The whole point of the exposure is to teach your brain that it's safe."

"N-no collar, please no c-collar," she mumbles.

"No collar," I coo, "can you ask me, sweetheart? Nobody's gonna put a collar on you; you're just gonna ask and it's gonna be safe for you, I promise."

Sucking in a shaky breath, Willa squeezes her eyes shut, taking a long pause before finally finding the courage to say, "W-will you-... please... c-can-... Willa and Daddy-... Willa and D-Daddy-..." Sniffling, she gasps for another breath before finishing, "you-... I-I-... snuggles?" Silent sobs begin wracking through the little child's body as she waits in anticipation, her entire body tensed up and ready to receive whatever punishment is coming.

But against her predictions, I simply wrap the small girl up in my arms warmly, lifting her into the air as I rise to my feet and cradle her close to my chest. Rocking her back and forth as I begin to brush her hair down gently with my hand, I murmur soothing words to the child. "Shhh," I ease, coaxing her head softly against my shoulder as I hold her safely, her whole body shaking as I grant her request. "Of course we can snuggle, Willa-bug. You're my snuggle bear, after all; aren't you?" I croon gently, my quiet words of comfort slowly beginning to help her relax. "Here, how about we cuddle up in Daddy's bed? It's the biggest one in the house," I suggest as I carry the sweet girl back through the apartment to my bedroom, walking over and pulling back the blankets and sheets atop the mattress.

"D-Daddy's bed," Willa stutters quietly as I climb in with her still cradled closely to me, resting back against the pillows and pulling the soft blankets up over us as she snuggles warmly into my chest. "Big."

"Big bed, that's right," I agree. "Lots of space to snuggle."

"N-no collar," she says carefully, the fear almost completely gone from her voice.

"No collar," I confirm, brushing back her hair with a soothing hand as one of her thumbs finds its way into her mouth. "No collar ever, sweetie. I promise you; I pinky promise." Wrapping my little finger around her own, I lean down, planting a kiss on her head.

"Scratchy pinky p'omise," she tells me at the gentle roughness of my beard grazing over her bare skin. Looking up at me with wide eyes, I'm able to relax slightly as I see a hint of playfulness shining in the little girl's gaze.

"Scratchy, huh? You don't like Daddy's new beard?" I raise my eyebrow in jest.

"No, still like it," she assures me, rubbing her little forehead against the coarse hair lovingly. "Daddy looks so han'some. Bucky told me- m-my daddy's the mos' han'some man in the world."

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#faad #faad: retraining #eun's writing #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers series #steve rogers au #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #hurt/comfort #steve rogers x child!oc #dad!steve rogers #the avengers #avengers fanfiction #mcu #mcu fanfiction #captain america #captain america fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction