Hi🥰, may I request Lads headcanons where nonmc is isekei'ed to their world, so you guys spend more time with each other that you start to notice that the storyline is changing...so you imagined the worst case scenario that if the story changes, the LIs might not also get their happy ending even in this lifetime all because of the glitch of system which is you. To ensure their happy endings which you don't even know if it's gonna happened, you started to find way back to your world without them knowing(even when they have things to stalk you, you made sure they never find out) and when you finally found the way back. You write them a handwriting letter a night before your disappearance saying how you should've expressed your love better to them(since you were busy being shy) and that you actually love them and that you didn't leave because you didn't love them but it's just that you love them so much that you have to leave. You write about how genuinely happy you were about the times you guys spent together and that you were real happy with them. How you'll probably never find another like them in your world and that they'll always be in your heart, no matter what. In the letter, you kept on saying sorry and that you couldn't find better word than sorry. So you truly wish that they get their happy endings with the love of their lives. (Some letters on the smudge from tears) At the end of the letter, you wrote
Sincerely, yours always
(Your real name)
(Since at the time, you guys were spending time together. You told them the name you put in the game.)
You thought that you'll probably can just watch over them in the game but as soon as you get back in your world, news broke out that your country is in a war conflict with a neighbouring country. Soon fast enough, fear and worry crept into you, yet somewhere in your heart, there's also relief that you could tell the love of your life that you love them. How selfish of you, you thought.
Now, you'll probably never see them again, not even on your phone.
I need the LIs' pov on this so baddddddddd.
Thank you as always🫶🏼 your writings never miss.
No Matter the Distance
Setup: You were never supposed to stay. From the moment you appeared in his life, he felt a strange, unshakable familiarity, as if he’d known you long before your first meeting. Over time, that connection deepened into an all-consuming love, one that made him quietly vow to make you his and his alone. But when subtle changes in your laughter, your gaze, and your touch began to surface, he knew something was wrong. By the time he found your tear-stained letter, you were already gone, leaving behind confessions of love and a promise that you had to leave to protect their story. What began as heartbreak turned into an obsession-fueled hunt across dimensions, only to uncover the chilling truth: your world was on the brink of war, and he would do anything, break any rule, cross any boundary, to bring you back.
Pairing: LADs x Non-MC! reader
Genre: Angst, Self-aware/Isekai'd AU
From the moment he met you, there was a disquieting familiarity, as if he had known your voice and smile in another life.
"I could get used to this," he’d murmur after hearing you laugh, memorizing the sound like scripture.
What began as polite interest grew into an all-encompassing fixation, a quiet, consuming possession that had him tracking your every move, memorizing your routines, noticing even the smallest changes in your breathing or the way your eyes shifted.
Every accidental brush of your hand, every fleeting smile became evidence in the case he was building in his mind that you belonged only to him, each glance at you feeding the thought:
She belongs here. With me.
He pictured you in his home, his world, his life woven into every future he could imagine.
Then the changes began, small at first, then sharper.
Your gaze drifted past him, as though you were searching for something far away. Your touch lingered, but carried a distance that burned in his chest.
Something’s wrong… she’s leaving me, isn’t she?
His nights grew long, staring at the ceiling, running through every memory to find the moment you began to slip away.
No… please no. If she’s planning to go, I need to make her stay.
Every smile became a slow goodbye, every silence a farewell you couldn’t voice.
However, he was too late as he found the letter next to a sealed jar of sweets and the two snowmen figurines that he had made for you. As he read the paper in his hands trembled as he clenched the letter tightly.
You knew me from a game… You loved me… You left to protect me?
His lips pressed to the tear-stained lines.
"Foolish girl… You think I care about the story?" His voice cracked, a lonely echo in the empty room.
He reached for every connection, old and current patients, colleagues, charity partners, draining every favour until nothing remained.
When that wasn’t enough, he threw himself into the Fractal Library, poring over dimensional archives until his vision blurred and his fingers ached from turning pages.
"I’ll find you. Even if I have to rewrite every page of your so-called story."
When he learned your world was on the brink of war, his heart stopped.
The room around him fell away, replaced with visions of you running through smoke and fire, danger breathing down your neck.
The silence in his ears was deafening until panic and rage surged together.
No… not like this.
Obsession fused with desperate protectiveness, and his mind spun with blueprints for a rescue that could cross worlds.
"Hold on for me, my love. I’m coming, and nothing will stop me."
You made the outside of the Fleet’s cold steel corridors feel like home, a place he had never truly believed could be warm until you walked its halls.
He pictured you waiting after missions, always there, always his, watching for him with that smile that made even the harshest debrief fade from his mind.
In his quiet moments, he found himself mapping the places you went, noting the hours you kept, ensuring he could cross paths with you without you even knowing it was deliberate.
"You keep me grounded," he’d say aloud with a faint smile, but inside he thought,
You’re mine, every laugh, every glance, every step you take belongs to me.
Then you started avoiding his touch, your eyes turning away just as his met yours.
No. You’re not walking away from me, please don’t go.
His jaw clenched each time your fingers slipped from his.
He eventually found the letter in his office, under his favourite aircraft model, the same one you both assembled together.
The letter you left confessed love and guilt, a need to fix the damage. His teeth ground together, jaw aching with restrained fury.
"The only damage that I see is you not being here by my side."
He tore through the Fleet’s database, bullied officers into compliance, and traced anomalies with military precision.
"Give me coordinates, or give me a reason you can’t walk tomorrow."
When he found your location and learned about the impending war, it was like taking enemy fire, fast, hot, and impossible to ignore.
His breath caught, and the urgency slammed into him with brutal clarity. Every instinct screamed to act, to move, to reach you before the chaos could touch you.
She won’t die there, I won’t let her.
Turning toward the docking bay, he carried one thought:
"I’ll bring you back, shortcake, even if I have to dismantle the stars to do it."
Meeting you was like waking into a dream already in motion. You fit into his life so easily, filling gaps he hadn’t known were there.
"Stay a little longer."
He’d say, making it sound casual, but inside he was already building a life around you, every detail planned, every room in his imagined home already carrying your presence.
He watched you with an intensity he masked as fondness, committing to memory the cadence of your voice, the way your fingers curled when you laughed, the subtle lift of your brows when you were amused.
Don’t go anywhere.
He’d think to himself, a silent command more than a plea, watching you smile like you had no idea how deeply he was memorizing you, how much he was already weaving you into the very fabric of his existence.
Then came the shift. You began drifting mid-game, holding your words like fragile glass, picking each one as though it could shatter if handled wrong.
She’s pulling away… why?
He watched your every movement, storing them away like treasures.
If she walks away, I’ll follow.
Your letter lay beside the galaxy kid plushie that you won at the arcade with him, your handwriting bleeding apologies.
You love me, yet you left?
His hand slammed the game console on, the familiar game intro, now a cruel reminder.
"The world can burn for all I care. All I want is just you."
He retraced every path you’d ever mentioned, repaired and repurposed old spacecraft components, reached out to every friend and old acquaintance, weaving scraps of intel into something tangible.
There’s a trail. There has to be.
"Someone’s seen her. Someone knows."
Eventually, while tampering with his old spaceship gadgets, he ends up finding your world’s signature and learning about the looming war sent a chill through him so deep it felt like frost forming in his veins.
His breath caught in his throat, and the image of you standing defenceless in a place about to ignite consumed him.
The ship’s hum roared in his ears as his hands gripped the plushie.
If I fail, her laugh disappears forever.
He steadied himself with a vow.
"I won’t let it end like this. Not for her, not my moonlight."
From the moment you stepped into his studio light, he wanted to keep you there forever.
"Hold that smile, beautiful," he’d say, but it was never enough; he could never capture all of you.
You became his most beloved muse, his fixation so intense it seeped into every waking moment, a presence he sought to immortalize not only on canvas but in every thought, every breath.
He followed you with his eyes even when you weren’t aware, sketching your profile from memory, cataloguing the subtle shifts in your mood, the light in your eyes.
Each brushstroke became an oath and a claim, a silent reminder to himself and a warning to the world:
You belong on every canvas I’ll ever touch, and nowhere else but with me.
But then your smiles began to fade quickly, your hands fidgeting on the tabletops.
Why won’t you meet my gaze anymore?
He started painting you with heavier lines, darker colours, as though he could anchor you to the world through pigment alone.
One day, he found a letter in his sketchbook that bled truth: you loved him, but you were leaving to protect the narrative. His fingers curled so hard into the paper that it wrinkled.
"But…you’re my narrative."
He plunged into the shadowed parts of the art world, illicit galleries, private collectors, dangerous clients, and ching in every favour.
"Bring me word of her, and you’ll have anything you want."
When he learned your world teetered on the brink of war, it was like a blow to the chest. Breath fled from him, leaving him frozen in his studio.
The scent of paint and turpentine surrounded him as images of you, alone, frightened, and far from his reach, filled his mind.
Not again. Not my beloved muse lost to fate.
His hand clenched around a brush until the wood creaked.
"I’ll paint over destiny itself if it means that I can keep you in the end, my heart."
You were a contradiction he could never look away from, sweet and sharp, warmth and danger in equal measure, the kind of paradox that hooked itself deep into his mind and refused to let go.
Every move you made drew his gaze; every word you spoke became a thread in the web he was already weaving around you.
To him, you weren’t just someone to love, you were someone to claim, to keep where no one else could touch you, the perfect mix of allure and defiance that fed both his tenderness and his hunger to possess.
I’ll make sure you never leave.
He pictured you beside him, ruling the N109, his equal and his possession.
"You’d look good here, lil’ dove," he’d tell you, a smirk on his lips and truth in his voice.
Then your banter softened, your eyes lingered on his face as though memorizing him.
She’s looking at me like she’s all but ready to leave me for some reason. I don't like it
His gaze sharpened each time, a silent challenge for you to prove him wrong.
Soon he found your letter, next to the vinyl record that you both love to dance to as it played.
He read on as you confessed your love and also the desire to protect the story by leaving. He laughed, low and dark.
"Protect me from myself? Too late for that."
He set the entire Onchinus network into motion, informants, mercenaries, even enemies, roped into the hunt.
"Find her. I don’t care how, or what it costs."
When he learned your world would be consumed by war, an icy calm settled over him.
Beneath it, a storm raged.
His pulse slowed, his mind narrowing to a single lethal focus.
In his head, he was already tearing through enemies, chaos, and the very fabric of reality to reach you.
If the world burns, I’ll pull her from the ashes.
His energy evol, surging, he began giving orders, every word a step closer to bringing you home.
"Wait for me, angel. Your fiend will bring you home soon. Promise"
i want to ruffle up their fur and see how fluffy they can be, i think that would be sily
as rem ages they get fluffier like their mom. as a tiny pup they have very short fur, and currently they have some floofy! this is the maximum floof they can get currently if you ruffle them, it will be more in the future :3
Starry meme thing! - Impress Me, The Sower, and The Starry Night.
YAY SOMEONE ASKED ME THINGS!!!!!!
Impress Me - What is the last thing that caught your eye? Hmmmmm......well the first thing that comes to mind is, of course, Starry, but that’s more a catching of the ear? I think the last thing that really REALLY caught my eye was this amazing Oregon sunstone ring on etsy, because my gods the colors are SO pretty.
The Sower - What is one idea you’ve had that you would love to see grow into a reality? I’d really like to grow the book I’ve been writing into an actual finished product. To do that I’m going to have to stop fighting myself so much on the actual process, but I think I can do it if I learn to get out of my own way :)
The Starry Night - What is something you have done that you are most proud of? I........don’t know? There’s things I think back on and I’m proud of but they’re not big things, I guess? I’m proud I got my dad’s car restored, I’m proud of the friends I’ve made that I get to have in my life, I’m always super proud when I make food people like? I think above all of the other things I’m proud of, it’s the super small point of pride I get every time I make someone something to eat/drink that gets that amazing first reaction, the “eyes widening, knee-jerk-omg-noise” reaction. It’s a small thing, but it’s my favorite :)
oops im joining the love party, virty you the best sweet bean,,,,,,, my baby shnoocum........... you're my cuppycake gum drop shnoocum shnoocum, you're the apple of my eye :) 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞
I love how all your Al Ghul boys, both Danny's versions, and Damian's versions,all look souch like Talia.
9 times out of 10, Bruce's genes stood no chance 😂
HAH the only Bruce genes that made it through are those batwing eyebrows and baby blues he passed onto Danny. Other than that? No dice, big man. Those Al Ghul genes are just too strong
hii i luv ur writing sm <333 i have a request ,, so sylus is ur older brothers bestie (normal person) and we have had a crush on him since they were younger and even sylus does but they are both oblivious and sylus gets bullied for his white hair and red eyes by others ,, one scenario when it happens is when they r younger and reader cries for him but same thing happens when they grow older and reader now kinda emotionally distant?? she acts cold but is not actually so she curse the person out and sylus gets surprised and then idk they kinda talk it out and become a couple idk and they havent seen each other since years in between
The Boy with Ruby Eyes
Setup: They used to be kids with unspoken feelings, your brother’s best friend, the boy with white hair and ruby eyes who never quite fit in, and you, the girl who cried for him when no one else would. Years later, fate throws you back into his path, and though time has made you colder, you can’t help stepping up for him again. This time, though, there are no more years of silence between you, just a quiet confession and the warmth of a promise pressed into your palm.
Pairing: Sylus x Non-MC! reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Writer's note: It's finally Sy-sy's turn to have his very own fic. I love how I'm writing a fic for both of my hubbies back to back. Only Xavier is left to join the bandwagon. Can't wait until then, hope you all enjoy.
The first time you saw him get cornered, you were eight years old.
Sylus stood there, back pressed to the wall of the schoolyard, fists clenched but not raised. His white hair caught the sun, stark against the dust-brown bricks.
His crimson eyes, eyes you thought looked like rubies, glittered as the other boys jeered.
"Ghost boy."
"Demon eyes."
"Bet he isn’t even human."
Your stomach twisted.
It wasn’t fair.
He wasn’t weird or scary. He was your older brother’s best friend, the one who always let you tag along even if he pretended to be annoyed.
He was kind in ways no one else saw.
"Leave him alone!" your voice cracked, higher than you wanted.
The group turned to look at you. Your cheeks burned, but you stomped your foot anyway.
"He didn’t do anything to you! You’re just mean!"
A few laughed. But it broke their rhythm, and soon they were scattering, muttering under their breath.
You ran to him, tears already brimming.
"Are you okay?"
Sylus blinked down at you, his usual cool mask slipping.
"Why’d you do that?"
"Because," you sniffled, wiping your face with the back of your hand.
"You didn’t deserve it. And if no one else will, I’ll always be on your side."
His throat bobbed. He turned his head away like your words embarrassed him, but you saw the way his hands relaxed.
"Idiot..." he muttered, though his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it.
That night, Sylus walked you home, his hand brushing against yours in a way you didn’t quite understand but knew you’d never forget.
The years hadn’t been kind. He drifted away when high school ended, following paths you didn’t. You built walls around yourself, taught yourself not to cry for people who wouldn’t stay.
And then, fate decided to laugh in your face.
The marketplace was busy that evening, full of vendors shouting prices and kids tugging at their parents’ hands.
That was when you saw him.
Taller now, his shoulders broader, hair still that impossible white.
His crimson eyes swept the crowd, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.
But so did someone else.
"Man, what’s with your eyes?" a stranger sneered.
"You some kind of freak or something?"
The words sliced through the crowd like knives. Sylus stilled, shoulders tightening, but before he could speak, you were already moving.
"Say that again," you snapped, stepping between them.
"And I’ll make sure you regret it."
Your voice was cold.
Colder than the evening air, colder than the years you’d spent trying not to care.
The man blinked at you, startled, then muttered something and backed off quickly.
The crowd melted away, and suddenly it was just you and him.
Sylus stared at you like you were something impossible.
"You…"
His voice was low, rougher than when you were kids.
"You’ve changed."
You crossed your arms, though your heart thudded against your ribs.
"Hello, Sylus. As for your statement... Not really. Just got tired of crying for people who didn’t know how to stand up for themselves."
For a long moment, silence hung between you.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
Quiet, shaky.
"Still the same," he said, almost to himself.
"You remembered."
You frowned.
"Of course I did. It was you, Sylus."
Something shifted in his gaze, softening, breaking.
He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly awkward in a way you never thought he could be.
"I… thought you forgot about me."
Your breath caught.
"I couldn’t. Even if I tried."
The years between you seemed to collapse.
His hand twitched, like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he had the right.
You sighed and tilted your head.
"We should… talk, right? It’s been years."
He gave a slow nod.
"Yeah. Let’s talk."
You ended up at a quiet bench near the square, away from the noise.
He sat beside you, close enough that you felt the heat radiating from him, but not touching.
For a while, you just sat there.
Finally, he broke the silence.
"I used to think about that day," he said.
"When you cried for me."
Your cheeks heated.
"That was forever ago."
"Still," he murmured, red eyes fixed on you.
"No one had ever done that before. It… mattered."
You swallowed hard.
"It mattered to me, too. That’s why I was so angry today. I guess some things never change."
His lips quirked, half a smile, half a grimace.
"And some things do. You’re stronger now. Colder too."
"Yeah, well," you muttered, hugging your arms around yourself.
"It hurts less if you pretend not to care."
The silence stretched again, but this time it felt warmer.
Then he leaned closer, his voice dropping.
"Do you still care?"
Your throat went dry. He was too close, too intense. But lying was impossible when those ruby eyes pinned you in place.
"…Always."
His breath hitched. And then, slowly, carefully, his hand covered yours on the bench.
His fingers were rough, calloused, but the touch was gentle.
"Me too," he admitted.
"Always."
Before you could speak, he turned your hand over in his, his thumb brushing across your palm as though memorizing it.
Then he lowered his head, pressing a lingering kiss there, tender, reverent, almost aching.
The simple touch sent warmth flooding up your arm, straight to your chest.
You stared at him, wide-eyed, and he didn’t look away this time.
It wasn’t a kiss on the lips, not yet.
But it was a promise.
The kind that said you had time now, to rebuild, to explore, to finally let this thing between you breathe.
And for the first time in years, you believed it.
(blood blossom au) if you don't mind answering/haven't already answered, will danny ever be completely cured of the blood blossoms? like i think it would make sense if he didn't, sometimes people do things that can never be undone or taken back and you just have to live with them. that's a theme that makes sense to incorporate into your story. but it's also just so unfair that danny will have to live with this existential threat in his blood forever and always. he doesn't deserve that :(
Yes, I was thinking Danny would be eventually cured of the blood blossoms! As it stands, I don't see Danny making it past 18 even with the current "antidote" he's on. I've been calling them stabilizers.
See, the way the blood blossoms work is that they eat ectoplasm, and the poison is attacking the ectoplasm infused to Danny. Problem: that's in everything. It's on the DNA level. So blood, bone, organs, all of it, it's being attacked. Since the poison is only slowed down and not stopped, it means that even at his most stable, Danny is being slowly and steadily chewed away at by the poison.
Danny's body is fighting tooth and nail to get rid of it, but his unique biology + the abnormality and origins of the poison makes it incredibly difficult. It needs a boost. Until then, it's just a matter of when he dies, and not if.
Although, even after being cured, some of the damage the poison did to his body still remains. It won't be as bad as it was when he was poisoned, but he'll likely need to use a cane for the rest of his life, and the chronic pain remains. It just gets more bearable, and he can access his ghost half again.
