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yourantag · 7 months

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The Red Means I Love You (Edgar×Reader)

AN: This was supposed to be finished and posted on Valentine's Day. However, as you can see from the word count, that was a fool's errand. I wanted to delve more into yanderes since I find them fascinating in writing, and now, here we are. Staining White Day red, I present to you the most generic title for an Edgar fic you will ever see. (Btw, I apologize to Edgar fans- I might've massacred your boy but I swear I tried my best.) Word count: 4.9k words TW: Blood, violence, murder, yandere themes, and blackmailing. Summary: Accepting the invitation of a dubious letter sounds just about as bad as it actually was. Oletus manor is not a name spoken without notoriety, after all. Was that where it all began? Was this your first mistake? No, it was further down the line, wasn't it? Yes, perhaps it was when you became the muse of an artist with no inspiration.

Reality has disappointed you time and time again. The expectations of a life of peace was crushed easily under the hands of society. So, you fled. You fled inside your head, transporting yourself into worlds of fiction. Romance, mystery, fantasy, and the likes kept you alive. It was the only thing you could really call safe.

Among many genres, you favored one above the others.

Horror.

There’s a certain comfort that comes from these fictional tales. You know they aren’t real, that the killer can’t find you, that these psychopaths don’t exist. Are there people similar to them? Sure, but they aren’t in your life. Thus, they merely stay as silly little people within a book.

But, it’s not quite enough. The thrill of words upon a page cannot compete with the real deal. While you weren’t stupid enough to seek out murderers or the like, you were still dumb enough for Baron DeRoss, apparently.

The envelope is white as a dove, a blood red stamp sealing it shut. It whispers promises and praise, false hope and rewards. It’s an enticing offer, truly. Would you let it guide you astray?

Well, you were never one to turn away from the call of the abyss.

“I really don’t get it. I know it’s game changing, but it’s not helpful for anyone else but me! Why do they want me to team up with them?” You huffed, resting your face on your palms. Edgar merely rolled his eyes, flicking his wrist. Focused on the canvas in front of him, he let the brush streak red through white.

“You said it yourself, your abilities are game changing. We don’t even know the full extent of your abilities– who knows? Maybe you could completely uproot the current meta. Besides,” He smirked, peering at you from the corner of his eye. “The hunters are terrified of you.”

You paused, letting your arms fall flat against the table.

“Scared? Of me? I’m just another survivor– what do they have to be afraid of?”

Edgar hummed, tapping the handle end of his paint brush against his lips. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t quite fancy being stabbed.”

Okay, yeah, that was fair.

Most survivors didn’t possess the ability to fight the hunter, not really, yet here you were. When Jack had first chased you, he had the reckoning of his life. You wince at the phantom feeling of stabbing steel into flesh and bone. That was, admittedly, not what you had expected to be your special skill.

You pouted, cheek against the cool wood of Edgar’s table as you glanced around. His room was an odd combination of an art exhibition hall and an actual bedroom. It was big and extravagant, but you wouldn’t expect any less from him.

Well, kind of.

Edgar confused you. Intriguing, even among the sea of other unique characters within the manor. You suppose that’s why he’s your favorite comrade and closest friend, if you could call him that. He’s never kicked you out of his room or flat out yelled at you, so safe to say he didn’t hate you, at least.

He’s neutral on all matters within the manor, composed regardless of what he faced. All he cared about was his art, nothing more and nothing less. Perhaps that was how he was unaffected by everything.

You suppose that’s natural for an artist. You can’t claim to understand it perfectly, but in a way, you truly understood.

“It’s like… you’re a moth drawn to a flame, right? Art is something you’re willing to give your life to, dedicate your whole body and soul to. Even if you have to sacrifice your time, energy, or health, for the perfect outcome, you’d do it.” You had said it off handedly, not thinking much of it then. In some respects, wasn’t his passion for art just like your obsession with thrill?

But then he had grabbed your hands, looking into your eyes with such fervor. His gaze burned, a certain desperation flickering within it. What was he seeking so fiercely? What was making Edgar, apathetic, snide Edgar, act like he had found an oasis in the desert?

“You get it?” He whispered, almost pleading.

“Maybe,” You responded.

That had been enough for him.

Since then, you and Edgar had become an odd pair. Not quite friends, but too close to be acquaintances. You gravitated towards him, as he did to you. More often than not, you’d ask him if he’d like to team up for matches. More often than not, he’d say yes.

You suppose that’s another reason why other survivors regard you with care.

Edgar isn’t the most difficult person to work with, but definitely not the easiest. He’s all too much and too little: haughty and snide, distant and cold. He’s a reliable teammate, not a likable one.

Still, the playful sparkle in his eyes as he led the hunter straight to you made you beg to differ. You’d curse him out as you ran, glaring at him after the match was over, before begrudgingly thanking him for supporting you with a painting or two.

However odd it was, you wouldn’t trade your friendship for the world.

There’s a letter in your mailbox.

That isn’t especially weird, considering that’s what a mailbox is for. Letters, mail, packages, whatever. Still, you can’t help but pause as you stare at it. A white envelope with a lovely red seal, the stamp itself in the shape of a camellia. The embossed flower is outlined in gold, shimmering softly in the low light of your room.

Gently, you pry open the seal, careful not to damage it or the envelope. Once you’ve successfully extracted the letter without destroying everything, you stare at it with uncertainty.

It seemed like this was a love letter from the presentation alone, yet you couldn’t help but feel a bit unsettled. You couldn’t understand why, however. It was beautiful, but simple. It wasn’t overwhelming, nor alarming. So why, from the depths of your heart, was your subconscious screaming at you to run? As though you were about to open Pandora’s box?

You unfold the letter and read.

Edgar gives you the nastiest side eye you’ve ever seen. Perhaps you deserve it after the stunt you pulled. Then again, what else were you supposed to do? He was going to be sent back to the manor if you hadn’t let yourself go down.

In the end, thanks to your sacrifice, the potential tie had turned into a win. Sure, you were the one sent back to the manor instead, but a win was a win! Though, Edgar seemed to disagree.

“You’re an idiot.”

You would be offended if it weren’t for the fact that he was wrapping your wounds. The tender touches were barely there, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings. He was being careful, making sure you didn’t feel even an ounce of unnecessary pain. The concentration he was putting into taking care of you was something you had only seen when Edgar was painting.

The subtle quirk of his lips, eyes barely narrowed, and relaxed shoulders expressed more to you than any words ever could. The guilt that pooled into his chest, made evident by the quiet sighs he’d let out, seemed to manifest itself as kindness and gentle care.

It made you really want to tease him.

“Ow!” You hiss, flinching slightly away from the man. Edgar freezes, staring at you with concern.

“Shit– sorry, I didn’t mean to.” The sincere remorse in his voice immediately makes you regret your decision.

“Wait, wait, wait, no, I– gah, sorry. I was just messing with you.”

The painter’s formerly soft expression faded into a scowl, a glare sent your way even as he finished wrapping you up. Edgar immediately stands up, leaving you scrambling to do the same as he leaves the infirmary.

“Ahhhh, wait, I’m sorry! Wait, Edgar, I’m sorry, I swear I won’t do that again! C’mon, don’t leave me like this! I–” You trip on something, stumbling as you lose balance. You fully expect to kiss the ground, what with one of your arms in a cast, when lithe arms catch you.

You glance up at Edgar with a sheepish smile, gazing upon the apathetic look upon his face. Apathetic, to anyone else but you. You can see the little curl of his lips, the faint swirl of amusement in his eyes.

He helps you reorient yourself, hands on your shoulders. Once you’re safely standing, Edgar turns and continues down the hallway. His steps are slower than usual. It’s probably the closest you’ll get to an invitation.

You grin, chasing after him once more.

“So does this mean you forgive me?”

“No.”

“How do you manage to stay sane, painting the same thing over and over again?” You ask, half dangling off a couch. Edgar’s room is still as grand as ever, but you can see the changes. It seems more lived in, more homey. There’s a table that isn’t covered in paint, brushes, or other art supplies. There’s shelves with books instead of art supplies. Then, those cabinets have, wait for it, something other than art supplies.

It seems like a small shift to others, though that’s probably because they don’t visit Edgar half as often as you do. The first time you saw the couch, you thought you were hallucinating.

The Edgar Valden, using something other than a stool? Incredible, revolutionary, absolutely groundbreaking.

He did not appreciate your dramatics, or so he claimed, but you knew he was covering his mouth to hide his smile.

“I’m not painting the same thing, and I am, in fact, going insane.” Edgar responds, frown deepening as he mixes a few colors together. You hum, peeking at the canvas as much as you can from your position. From the sketch, you could tell it was a portrait. A rare occurrence, considering Edgar preferred landscapes.

“Why the sudden interest in portraits?” You ask, sitting more comfortably on the couch. Glancing at the shelves, you skim through the books. Edgar wouldn’t mind if you read one of them, right?

The man pauses, his expression almost bashful. It’s so bizarre you can’t help but raise a brow. Edgar has never been afraid to draw attention to himself. He’s no pushover, willing to fight for what he wants while still remaining relatively neutral. To see him like that, a dust of what can only be blush upon his cheeks, twists something in your heart.

Before you can untangle what exactly you were feeling, the painter coughs.

“Well, I tried talking with Victor about expressing oneself. He suggested letters, or other mediums I’m comfortable with. So…” Edgar stares at his canvas, his smile more so a grimace. “I’m trying out his suggestion, I suppose.”

You tilt your head, humming to yourself as you nod. Sliding off the couch, you grab one of the books on Edgar’s shelf. “Well, then I wish you the best of luck.”

His eyes linger on you, closing softly as his expression relaxes. When he opens them again, he starts creating new hues with more focus.

“I’ve been getting letters recently.” You mention, flipping another page in your book. Edgar paused, turning to look at you.

“And?”

You closed your eyes, contemplating. This really wasn’t something you had to tell him. But, well, nothing too interesting has been happening lately. The matches have finally grown duller, the thrill fading as you stayed longer. You were running out of things to ramble about, so why not?

“They’re love letters. Nicely decorated, with neat handwriting. If I had to guess, someone born into privilege.” You think Edgar flinches at that.

“It’s really sweet, honestly. A shame they’re anonymous.” You skim over the words on the page, brows knitting themselves tight. The main character was oblivious to the danger so close to them. How frustrating.

“A shame, really.” Edgar echoes back, delicately brushing shadows along the red camellias. His painting seemed nearly finished, if you only stared at the beautiful flowers. The rest of the canvas was rather barren, a figure still not yet painted whole.

“C’mon, theorize with me! Who could it be? I put my bets on Jack.” You sighed dramatically, head thrown back with your hand on your forehead.

You received no response, however.

“Hear me out! He called me darling, dear, and tried to kill me. Obviously, he fell for my sick kiting skills and great looks. I rest my case.” Still, nothing.

You were getting really worried with how unresponsive Edgar was being. Usually, when you started overexaggerating like that, he’d make a snarky remark. Something like “please, you get terror shocked at 5 ciphers” or “you make amphibians look appealing.”

The silence was really getting to you.

“I mean, he’s got confidence in spades so it probably isn’t him. Still, I kinda hope it is, he’s rather attrac–” SNAP!

Your head snaps up from your book, turning to Edgar so quickly you nearly give yourself whiplash. There, in his hands, are the remains of a broken paint brush. Blood oozes from his tightly clenched hands, slowly trickling down his palm and under the cuff of his shirt. That was reason for concern as is, but the most startling thing of all was his eyes.

Blue, like the sky. Blue, like the sea. Blue, like the wings of a morpho butterfly.

Blue, like the swirling vortex of the night sky.

You rush over, grabbing the first aid kit you know he keeps for you, before standing next to him. You’ve never seen him like this, eyes so dark and blank. It’s honestly scaring you a little, but that means nothing when he’s hurt.

So, you kneel, pulling out tweezers, disinfectants, and bandages. Gently prying his hand open, you discard the larger pieces of the brush. With the tweezers, you pick out splinters of wood embedded in his skin. You whisper apologies as you do, knowing this definitely hurts, but he doesn’t so much as flinch.

By the time you finally disinfect his hand and wrap it, Edgar seems a lot more like himself than before. He gazes at you with quiet consideration, blinking slowly. Languid, calm, almost cat-like.

“Are you okay?” You ask, holding his hand. In all the time you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him react like that. The kinder side of you hopes it’ll never happen again, if only so he won’t needlessly hurt himself like that. The morbid side of you wants to see him like that again, what you can distinguish as cold, searing rage threatening to consume him whole.

Edgar leans his head forward and onto your shoulder. The scent of citrus, chamomile, and something chemical tickles your nose, brushing against you as the painter sighs. He seems… tired.

“Let me rest my head, just for a bit.”

You don’t have the heart to say no.

The next few letters you get are… odd. Passionate as always, but far more obsessive. The first few had been sweeter, more tender. This was escalating in a weird direction, and as much as you loved yourself a good horror story, romance and horror never mix well. They were starting to threaten you, saying they’d hurt the people around you, and that was where you drew the line.

So, you start ignoring them. It sounds foolish, especially for a connoisseur of all things freaky, but life is more mundane than fiction. If this person doesn’t have the guts to confess to you, does it make sense that they’d have the guts to actually go through with their threats? Logically, no.

Besides, even if they did, the people of the manor are strong. They can hold their own. Even if they can't, that person will get outcasted for hurting a survivor, regardless of if they’re a hunter. “No violence outside of matches,” that was the first rule both factions set.

So, it was safe to assume you had nothing to worry about. You have more important things to deal with, anyway, especially with a new survivor arriving. His name was Orpheus, a novelist. You were thrilled, especially since he was the author of some of your favorite series.

You were busy with preparations, practically skipping with joy. The other survivors poked fun at you, both for your enthusiasm and the lack of a certain painter at your side.

Edgar was concentrating on his art, as per usual, and you didn’t want to bother him. He seemed a little lonely, though, so you tried to convince a few people to talk to him. They all just looked at you as if you grew another head.

“Are we… looking at the same person?” Mike asks, smile strained. You frown, turning away from the banners you were fixing.

“Yes! Edgar Valden, our resident painter, our sassy rich boy, our lovely old friend. I say he is lonely, and I think you should talk to him. I mean, you’re easy-going, fun, and silly. Who wouldn’t like you?” Even if half of it was an act. Still, Mike was one of the people Edgar tolerated better than most. Perhaps it’s because he’s another form of an artist?

“Why can’t you just, I don’t know, talk to him yourself? You guys get along just fine.” Mike looks away, fiddling with his hands. You narrow your eyes at the sight.

Mike Morton, local funny man, someone with dedication and deceit running through his veins, nervous? It’s not faked, the sweat rolling down his neck and the faster breathing all indicating he was genuinely nervous. Maybe even scared.

“Edgar, I really do love him, but he needs more friends. I think the only people who talk to him on a regular basis are Luca and I. Adding a few more people to that list would be nice, so…” You bring your hands in front of you, clasped tight as if you’re about to pray. “Could you please talk to him?”

Mike deflates, sighing as he nods. You smile brightly in response, promising to make it up to him.

“Hey bestie! You excited for the new survivor?” Demi croons, grinning as she tosses an arm around your shoulder. You laugh in response, leaning into her.

“That’s about the dumbest thing you could ask me. Of course I am! He’s written so many good books. God, I don’t know how I’m supposed to act around him. He’s made some stories that have basically shaped who I am now!” You sigh, smiling so widely your face hurts.

“Well, don’t forget your boyfriend in all the excitement! I can see he’s basically seething with envy.”

You pause, turning to look at Demi.

“Who?”

Now, it’s Demi’s turn to look confused.

“Uh, you know, Edgar? Are– are you guys not together?” She asks, genuinely shocked. You feel your face heat up, your hands itching to cover your blush.

“Wh– no! We are not! Why would anyone ever think that?”

Demi gives you a deadpan expression in response.

“You two are basically glued to each other’s side, go into every match together, hang out almost every day– Hell, you’re the only one Edgar has allowed in his room without it being necessary!”

Well, that’s news to you.

You furrow your brows, blinking in shock. Sure, you two hung out a lot, but it wasn’t like you guys were friends exclusively with each other. You had Demi, Mike, Melly, and even Violetta while Edgar had Luca, Victor, Andrew, and Galatea. It wasn’t like you… hung out… every… day…

“Oh fuck, we really do look like a couple.” You mutter, having half a mind to smack Demi as she laughs. She’s completely unapologetic about it, struggling to breathe as slowly calms down and giggles.

“So, you two aren’t dating?” She asks, wiggling her eyebrows. You huff, fighting back a smile.

“Nope, not at all.”

“Then in that case, I’m allowed to flirt with you as much as I want!” Demi cheers. She spins you around, causing a laugh to bubble up from your throat. The two of your twirl around in a silly dance, the faint sound of Frederick playing the piano the only background music.

At the end, she dips you down, smile upon her lips. She leans close to your ear as your smile is wiped away.

“Be wary of him.”

With Edgar, it’s like you’re taking three steps forward, then five steps back. Just when you think you’ve got him all figured out, he throws a curveball at you.

That desperation he had in his eyes the day you became his friend, flickering like a brilliant flame, you understand it now. However much he claimed he didn’t need people to understand him, how he didn’t need to understand others, it didn’t mean much. He still craved it, to be understood. To not have to be questioned, to not be approached with dishonesty, with intentions that lied beyond just him being him.

You suppose that’s exactly why you got along. You wanted to understand him, and he wanted to be understood. A match made in Heaven, you suppose.

It’s why it miffed you a bit that you really can’t understand Edgar at the moment.

He hates drawing portraits, yet he draws a figure, the same exact one, in every one of his new pieces. They look familiar, a lot like you, but you’re pretty confident Edgar would rather die than paint you. You’d tease him to Hell and back, all while he complains and swears up and down he’s never being nice to you again.

The landscapes, adorned in reds of all shades, always have that figure in each one without fail. Is he in love with someone? That would explain why he’s so weird lately.

Edgar’s odd behavior was already messing with you, but on top of that, the letters were getting worse. Instead of being slid into your mailbox, they were flat out in your room now.

Normal people would think someone just slipped it under the door. Reasonable assumption. However, unless that person has not only a very thin arm, but a long one, you don’t know how they’d manage to get it all the way to your desk.

You stare at the white envelope, stamped shut with a red seal in the shape of a camellia. The outline of the flower is in gold, though the beauty of the letter and the seal means nothing. Not when it got into your room. Not when it clearly has a splotch of dark red glaring at you.

Your hands are shaky as you open the envelope, a familiar curl of thrill fighting with your new found protective instincts. The letter is white as a dove, the red tainting it made all the more stark.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you read.

‘I didn’t imagine love would be like this. Wonderfully warm, like the rays of the sun in winter, and unbearably painful, like a knife in my heart. Do you just like hurting me? No, I know that isn’t true. After all, you always look at me with concern when I’m injured. Still, it’s hard to believe you’re this dense.

These past few weeks have been driving me mad. Your attention has been solely on the arrival of the new survivor. You’ve been ignoring me so much I can barely stand it. Can’t you spare even a moment for me? Is that novelist really that important? Seeing you look at him with stars in your eyes… it makes me want to rip his head off his shoulders. He doesn’t deserve your attention, nor your admiration, not like I do. I’ve known you longer, loved you for longer. He doesn’t deserve anything from you, yet he gets everything I could ever want and more.

Did you know? When you’re excited, your smile turns bigger, more genuine, till dimples show. Your eyes crinkle just a little, your hands moving to curl in front of your chest. You stand taller, you shine brighter.

It’s such a beautiful sight, I hate that I have to share it. Sometimes, I wish I could just put you in a cage and never let you go. Then, you wouldn’t look at anyone else but me. You wouldn’t think about anyone else but me. But, that’s not how you should live. You deserve to be free and happy. So, I’ve decided to get rid of anyone that doesn’t deserve to be around you.

I think I’ll start with that novelist.’

Your blood runs cold.

Fuck.

FUCK.

Just who is this? Who are they and just why are they so obsessed with you? Get rid of those who don’t deserve you? Who gave them the right to decide that!?

You take a deep breath, desperately trying to calm your nerves. Your heart is racing, and for the first time, the thrill in your heart turns into true fear.

You’ve never minded being the one hunted. In fact, you practically adore it, the addicting rush of adrenaline pumping through you. It’s why you came to the manor. But your friends? They’re not the same, and you wouldn’t want them to be. You want them safe and happy, not hunted down by some freak who thinks they “aren’t worthy of you” for whatever sick reason.

“Fuck, fuck… Orpheus, I need to find– no, it’s probably too late for him, there’s blood on the letter. Okay, okay, stay calm, stay fucking calm. Who would be the next victim? Mike? Melly? No, it’s probably Ed–” You pause.

Almost comically, everything clicks in place.

Camellias.

Red.

Ignoring them.

Edgar.

You bolt out of your room.

Normally, you’d knock. You know Edgar hates it when people barge into his room. However, considering the circumstances, you think that’s the least of your concerns.

You can’t help but pray in your mind. To whom? You don’t know. You don’t think anyone can truly help in this situation. It couldn’t be anyone else but Edgar, but still, you prayed. You hoped against all hope that your conclusion was wrong.

Edgar would scold you for barging in, sigh, before smiling and asking if you were really that desperate to see him. Everything would be fine. It would all be just a cruel joke.

But just as life is more mundane than fantasy, reality is far cruller than fiction.

The large windows to Edgar’s room let in the light of the falling sun, casting the room in many shades of gold and orange. In the middle of the room, in all his glory, is Edgar. His back is to you, paint brush in hand. You’re hit first by relief, then with the heavy scent of iron.

You shake, hands covering your mouth as you finally process what's around Edgar. Orpheus, drained of blood, head sat on a chair, body left haphazardly on the ground. Jack, ghastly white and face twisted, his horror eternally memorialized in death. Demi, eyes closed and serene, seemingly asleep if not for the purple veins that roam along her arms.

You fall to your knees, the shock hitting you so strong you can’t stand up any longer. He was your secret admirer. The one who kept sending letters. The one who went into your room just to place them on your desk. The one who threatened to kill your friends. The one who did kill your friends.

Edgar, finally, turns around. His cheek has splotches of blood on it, his hands no better. It’s startling just how much of it is on him, but worse yet, you know not all of it is on him. There’s a lot of blood in a human body, much more in two, so where was it?

When he smiles, it’s just as sweet as it was yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that. Was this really your friend, or a demon in disguise?

His smile, ever so sweet, only serves to unsettles you, looking more like a nightmare.

“Ah, you’re here! Come, I need to show you my newest masterpiece.” Edgar steps closer to you, dragging you by the hand to a canvas you hadn’t noticed before. He was standing in front of it, so it was only natural.

You numbly follow, heart in your throat. You’re grateful, distantly, that the “masterpiece” is not the corpses of your friends. You think you’re going to throw up, eyes trying to look at anything but them.

So, you gladly look at his so-called masterpiece.

You really wish you didn’t.

There, on the canvas, is a portrait. This time, it’s so painfully obvious it’s you that you can’t even deny it. Surrounded by red camellias, hands curled in front of their chest, with a smile so genuine, dimples showed. Eyes crinkled, back straight, and God, did it have to be so accurate?

The red of the camellias are familiar, as is the red of your blush, the colors of your clothes, your hair.

It’s all been painted using your friend’s blood.

Edgar comes behind you, his arms circling your waist. A content sigh leaves him, his chin resting on your shoulder. His hold is gentle, but firm, possessive in a way you never thought him capable of. His lips brush against your neck, a kiss much like a collar pressed into your skin. You can feel them curl into a smile.

“What do you think, my muse? The red means I love you.”

#idv #identity v #identity 5 #idv edgar #idv painter #edgar valden x reader #idv fanfic #identity v fanfic

75 notes · View notes

the-modern-typewriter · 2 years

Note

hi if it isnt too much can i have a snippet of a villain saving an abused sidekick from an abusive hero but the hero was once the villain's lover/close friend and the villain feels so heartbroken by their actions? sorry that sounds so specific lol, love your writing btw!

There were no words, really.

Well. Of course there were words - there were always words - like how could you? and how dare you? and you were supposed to be better and have you really become so blind?

None of the words felt good enough, none of the words could quite get past the scorching bile in the villain's throat as they looked at the hero they had once loved.

They wished they didn't see the terrible, quagmire steps that the hero had, sinkingly, taken from protection and demanding better and a justice sharp enough to cleave the world to - to this. To holding their sidekick to so high a standard that it was cruel, and impossible. To speaking so harshly to a child trying their best, as if the act of trying no longer counted for anything anymore. To the way that the sidekick's eyes were muddy with terror, drowning in it, clawing for light and hope and air.

The villain exhaled a breath, and managed a single, gentle, word. A hand outstretched.

"Come."

They did not speak to the hero.

The sidekick limped to their side, and did the hero not see what a bad sign that was? That the hero should be something to be fled, even to the arms of an enemy?

The villain wrapped an arm around the sidekick's shoulders, as if they could shield the teenager from the cold contempt in the hero's eyes.

"We're not done training." The hero's voice was steady. "They'll never be ready for the world - for the work - for people like you if they are coddled."

There were words there too.

People like me? I'm not the one eroding a kid to nothing. Look at them. They're breaking. Can't you see that they are breaking? That you are breaking them?

"You're done," the villain said. "Oh, you are so done."

They hated that their voice shook, just a bit, with some mixture of horror and fury. They hated that the hero could see it, and didn't understand it, couldn't see what they'd done that was so appalling wrong.

The villain turned away, shoulders tensed, because they'd got what they came for and the rest - the rest was like poking a wound. Raw. Infected.

"Are you okay?" they asked the sidekick (stupid question, because of course they weren't, they couldn't possibly be.)

The kid still nodded, bravely, or maybe just because with the hero there was no other answer allowed (stupid question, because of course they were okay, heroes were always okay, giving up is evil.)

The villain's grip tightened a little.

They heard the hero take a step behind them. "You can't go with them," they told the sidekick. "You're not so weak. So pathetic."

The sidekick flinched. They faltered.

The villain wanted to turn, they wanted to scream, they wanted to claw and wreak havoc and blood like all good villains did. But that wasn't the point, and that wasn't what the kid needed. The sidekick needed somewhere safe. Somewhere that they could lay their aching bones and heart down to rest, and know that sometimes not being ready to fight was okay actually. Somewhere kind.

Somewhere like the villain wished they'd had once, before they realised they no longer knew how to stop, even when stopping was all they wanted. Even when victory could no longer be peace, because peace was a stranger who would not take the villain's bloodied hands.

But the sidekick could still have that. They could fight, and do good, if they wanted to without the fight and the good swallowing them up like so much gasoline to a fire.

"No," the villain said, and glanced back.

The hero recoiled at the heartbreak on their face.

"No," the villain said, "they're not weak. Because, guess what, walking away from your poison is the strongest thing they will ever do."

And then the two of them were gone, into the quiet unjudgment of the night.

There were no words, then, but with time...

There was one.

Enough.

#writing #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #abusive hero #story #story snippet #writing snippet #creative writing #fic #villains #heroes

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shittyblogname · 3 years

Note

the oneshot with phone guy was so good and angsty, thank you😭😭

And I'm probably being annoying, but I wanted to know if you could do a part 2? I know it was a oneshot, but I'd like to see what might happen next, like somehow the phone guy despite being so badly injured still manages to survive after a long surgery? Or idk, it's up to you what you'd like to see happen next (if you decide to do it ofc)

btw, i also think i'd be good to put a warning abt description of injury if you are gonna write that xd

and again, if you dont want to or feel uncomfortable with it, there is no need of writing it.

Hi Anon :), don't worry! You're not being annoying, I was actually hoping for a request hehe (and I'm always excited about y'all sending me your scenarios)

about the Warnings thing, I'm sorry ^^', I edited it to have Warnings, I just figured that since we're talking about a horror game here with angst requested people would figure that it's gonna be bloody lol. Thank you for reminding me of that :)

Warnings: mentions of surgery, mentions of blood, injuries & a traumatic event

Your leg anxiously bounced up and down in the waiting room. It was noon already, the surgery has been going for 8 hours and you weren't the only person that was stressed. You went home some time during to change, get a cup of coffee and some food from the bakery to keep you going. The events of the night still haunted you, worried that they are fighting for Philip's life right now, while you are sitting there, completely helpless. The other part of your mind wanted to think that they are just taking so long to restore him, mainly his face. It would be foolish to believe that he'll end up looking the exact same, but there was still hope. Either way, this is the man you love and you sure as hell weren't going to dump him for that. It seemed like eternity before a nurse finally exited the operating room, causing you to jump up from the hard chair that had kept you company this morning. Following her were the surgeons and more male nurses bringing Philip to a room for continuing care. You waited until one of the nurses approached you, not wanting to get all in their faces after such a exhausting operation.You were informed about his current state and how the surgery went, apparently he seems to be somewhat awake, yet disoriented or "not fully aware of his surroundings" the male spoke, giving you hope. Another nurse rushed down the hallway with a file in her hand, aiming for you. "he asked for you." was all she said while passing you, clearly in a hurry to do whatever with the files. The man that spoke with you previously was so kind to bring you to the room Philip was in, and instant relief washed over you. There was no bloody mess, no open wounds or a horrifying face like you imagined. You were left alone by the male nurse as he closed the door. Grabbing a little rolling stool you sat next to him, gently searching for his hand to hold. He frowned slightly at your cold fingertips, making you chuckle a little. He looked quite similar to before, a little torn with missing skin where part of his upper lip used to be, but nothing drastic. Your mind went back to the backstage room, how scared you were to lose him. You guessed that the blood and Adrenaline in your veins made everything look worse than it actually was. His eyes were severely bruised from plastic surgeons trying to reconstruct his face as best as possible, and you made the reference of a raccoon to him, earning you a giggle. "I'm so glad that you called me Philip." tears stung your eyes again, but this time a smile was stretching across your face. "I couldn't imagine work without you-" your voice trembled, a sob threatening to escape from your throat. "-or just, life, in general." he gave you a weak squeeze to the hand you held his with, smiling a little himself. You laid your head on the empty space on the bed, your other arm draped over his abdomen. You began sobbing, trying to tell him all of the feelings that were stuck inside you until now. How you felt last night, how horrifying it was. He slowly brushed his thumb against your hand, showing you just how thankful he is. He didn't need to speak, or answer your question as to if he liked you back. His eyes and the slight curl of his lips expressed all that needed to be said.

#phone guy #phone guy x reader #FNAF #fluff #angst #fanfics

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buttsmasher · 3 years

Text

Smell of an Alpha

[The fantastic @one-inch-chick submitted the photo that gave me this idea. BTW if you haven’t checked out his art yet, you should do so, he’s extremely talented. Feel free to check out the photo here.]

Warnings/Tags: Face Farting, Gay Farting, Willing Victim, Teasing, Pass out from Farting, Cumming from Farting

You try not to stare as Demarcus runs around the track. But the way his ass moves up and down in those tight pants is just purely erotic. You can’t not stare, and you know you can’t be the only one. No man should have an ass that fat and so hypnotic. You just try to take a peek and next thing you know, you dick is straining in your trainers as you’ve watched him run two laps.

You firmly shut your eyes and put your head in your hands so there’s absolutely no way you can keep staring. You keep willing your boner to go away so you can go back to stretching and start your morning jog, but your mind keeps wandering to Demarcus’s massive ass. You can’t help but imagine having him sit straight down onto your face after running all day in this terrible heat.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You say absentmindedly as you ball your hands into fists. “Come on man, get yourself together.” You gave your cheeks two slaps before jumping up and bouncing from foot to foot. Your eyes are still closed and by some miracle your boner has decided to leave. But when you open your eyes, you freeze.

Demarcus is currently in front of you bent over touching his toes, his ass in perfect view. Your mouth falls open and you can feel drool starting to drip out of your mouth. His ass is just...perfect. There’s no other word for it, and you just want to know what it feels like. Your body takes a step closer to where he’s currently stretching. You have no control over yourself as you move on auto-pilot.

You watch as your hand reaches out and smacks his sizable ass. Then your hand grasps his right cheek and you shake it. His ass fills your hand completely and you can smell his musky body from where you’re standing. Your eyes go up his back and you come eye to eye with him. He’s giving you a confused look as he looks down at your hand and then back up to you and he gives you the most shit-eating grin.

“You havin’ fun?” He asks knowingly.

“Uh-uh I-I-” You fumble for words as you snatch your hand away. “Wh-why did I do that?”

“It’s alright bud.” He claps your shoulder. “You’re not the first fag to get overwhelmed by me.”

“I’m-uhh-” You clear your throat “not a fag?” You don’t know why it comes out as a question but it makes Demarcus laugh.

“Look man,” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in close. “I know I have a great ass. I ain’t blind. And what kind of human would I be if I didn’t let a fag get off to my ass every now and then.” He moves a hand of yours so it’s touching his glutes.

“Uh thanks?”

“You’re welcome.” His smile is very confusing, a bit cocky but also a bit genuine. You’re not too sure what to make of it. You both stand there quietly as he continues to let you grope his ass. He then slowly moves your hand over his crack.

PFFFFFFF

You stare at him in horror as you realize he just farted on your hand.

“Well I have to get going.” He looks at an imaginary watch. “See ya around?” You stare at your hand and then back at him then back at your hand.

“Yeah-well maybe?” Your confusion makes him laugh and you watch as he walks away.

“See ya tomorrow fag!” He gives a wave and you wave back even though he’s not even looking at you.

“Tomorrow? Yeah.” You mumble the words not really registering with you. All you can focus on is your hand. You slowly bring it up to your nose and you take a small whiff. Your eyes go cross as his lingering ass funk fills your nose. You need to get home now!

You rush back to your car to head home, totally forgetting to even do your workout. The only thing you can focus on is how his ass felt as you squeezed and how amazing that fart smelt on your hand. You can’t even wait to get home and end up having to stop on the side of the highway to rub one out. You end up cumming in your boxers and by the time you get home it’s all gross and dried.

You plant your face against your steering wheel to catch your breath. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” You sigh.

*****The Next Day*****

You’re embarrassed to say that you came back the next day just to see Demarcus in action again. Not even pretending to do a workout today, you try to hide in an inconspicuous spot where you don’t think he’ll be able to notice you. You even bring binoculars with you.

Shit, maybe he’s right. Maybe you are a fag.

You’re looking through them, trying to find any sign of him when finally you see him exit the locker rooms and head out to the track. This time he’s wearing a tighter pair of shorts that leave nothing to the imagination.

You take a big gulp, trying your best not to let your mind get overwhelmed with even more inappropriate thoughts. You can’t lie though, you came about 5-7 times last night from different scenarios you would beg Demarcus to try. But right now, this is probably the best you’ll get.

You spy as Demarcus stretches on the side of the track. Again his ass is in perfect view and your dick is quickly tightening your pants. He lifts his leg up to his butt and holds it for a moment and then does the other before he finally starts jogging around the track. You notice he seems to be going slower than yesterday and in his second lap you can see himself fanning his face like he smelled something bad.

Your mind immediately goes back to one of your mastubatory dreams from last night where he loads you up with his manly gas. The thoughts make your dick thoroughly strain against your boxers and you try your best to think of anything else.

Demarcus stops in front of you, maybe 20 feet away from your hiding spot. He puts his hands on his knees and takes a couple of deep breaths.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

From your vantage point, you can hear him releasing terrible torrents of gas. “Fuck.” He says pretty loudly as he rubs his stomach. “What did they put in that protein shake?” Demarcus stretches to the left and then to his right and makes eye contact with you. You see his pained face turn into a mischievous smile.

“Well hey there fag face!” He says standing upright. You give a short wave back as he walks towards you. “Were you here hiding from me?”

“Nooo.” You say unconvincingly. “I just like-uh-being one with nature.”

“Sure you do.” You see his right eye twitch.

PFFFFFFFFFFFF

“I’m telling ya man, I’ve got the worst gas today.” He pats his stomach a couple times.

“Yeah I can, uhh, hear that.”

“If only there was a fag ‘round here, that would graciously sniff these butt blasts so I don’t have to smell them.” You gulp, he couldn’t possibly mean you could he. “Do you know one?” You shake your head no. “You sure?” You nod. “Well if you find one, tell him I’ll be in the locker rooms.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck.” You whisper-yell as Demarcus jogs back towards the direction of the locker rooms. You argue with yourself whether or not you’re going to go. “I have to go.” You stand upright. “I have to.” You quickly jog after Demarcus.

When you get to the locker room, you see Demarcus bending over the bench and letting out soft groans.

PFFFFFFFFBBRBRFFFF PFFFFFFFFFF

He’s still letting out farts and you can’t stop yourself from walking up behind him and getting on your knees. Demarcus notices you and makes a show of shaking his ass. “Couldn’t stay away couldya?” You sheepishly shake your head no and you take a loud inhale of his musky ass. “It’s alright, all you fags need to learn at some point.” He moves his hand behind your head and holds you firmly against him. “You can’t resist an alpha.”

PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT

You’re subjected to the pure manly stank of him. It’s raw and terrible and it makes your eyes water. He strongly smells of rotten eggs and you have to ask yourself how you got yourself in this situation. You don’t fight him though, you just stay there taking deep whiffs of his ass funk.

“There you go, breathe me in.” Your mouth slightly falls open. “Let my ass control your thoughts.” His voice is so calm and addicting, you fall into a trance. “Deep breath.” You take a large inhale.

PFBRBRBBFFFFTTTT PFFF

He times the farts perfectly making sure you get a lungful of his toxic fumes. “Yeah, like that. Breathe me in fag.” You take another large breath not wasting any of the rotten garbage he’s releasing from his ass.

He lets go of the back of your head. “Lay down for me fag.”

“Yes sir.” You obey laying down on the rough concrete floor.

“Good fag.” He squats down over your face, his ass not quite touching you.

PFFFFFFFBRBRB PFFFFFFF PFFFF PBFBFBF PFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFF

“Aww fuck.” He sighs in relief and you push your head against his clothed ass again. “You like how that smells?”

“Yes sir.”

“Yes Alpha.” He corrects.

“Yes alpha.”

“What’s it smell like?”

PRFFFBFFFTTT PFFFFFFTTTT

“Old eggs. Rott-rotten sewage?” You struggle to put a coherent thought together, your fag brain blissed out.

“Do you want more?”

“Please alpha, give me more.” You beg and you hear him chuckle.

“Anything for you faggot.” You watch as he pulls his shorts down so you’re staring at his bare ass. He finally puts his full weight on you by sitting down straight onto your face.

PFFFFFFFFFFBRBRBFFFFFFFTTT

“That’s just for you fag. So make sure you get it all in your fag lungs.”

“It smells so good, alpha.” Your brain is empty with the only thought to serve him.

“You fags are so easy. One whiff of a man, and here you are. Begging me for my nasty farts. You’re as bad as a pig. You know that right? You’re a pig, fag.”

PFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFBBRRRFFFFFFFTTT

You know he’s right. You should be disgusted, but seriously you’re so fucking hard you’re scared that you’re about to unload in another pair of your boxers. Your eyes are rolled back in pleasure as you inhale everything he gives you.

“I bet I could make you cum from this.” He waggles his hips, making sure you’re bounced between both of his cheeks. “Think you could cum from me farts piggy?” You fevisherly nod your head yes, and he laughs. “Fucking pathetic.” He gets out between laughs.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

And there it is. You’re seeing stars as you start shooting your load in your boxers.

PFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFF PFFFTT

His ass doesn’t let up as your back arches from the amount of cum you’re shooting. It’s probably one of the best orgasms that has rocked your body.

PFFFFFBRBRBFFF PBBBFFFFFFFFFFFF

Fart after fart gets let loose to the point that you go from seeing stars to everything going black from lack of fresh air.

“Alpha.” You struggle.

“Nighty night piggy.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTT

Everything goes black as your head falls lax onto the concrete floor. The worst smelling fart knocks out any remaining fresh air that you had left. Demarcus gets up leaving you on the floor to marinate in his stink. When you do finally wake up, you find his scent still lingering all over you and your shorts are sticky from dried cum.

You can’t help it that your hand snakes its way down to your dick and you start jacking off to the lingering scent of the alpha. It’s natural for a piggy to love the stink, especially a piggy fag like you.

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mitraoki · 3 years

Text

kuroo and bokuto as your best friends

extra notes; super short but it’s to make up for my time when i was gone </3 my beloved gave me a huge inspo which made me want to write this! all my kissies for youuu!!🥺🤍 @fishstyx

(this is not a ship btw!)

masterlist.

.....

+bokuto and kuroo will be roommates, and along the lines of their friendship they happened to have met you through a group project. somehow you guys seemed to hit it off, becoming really close as weeks pass by.

+one begs to go to the convenience store, one just wants sleep, and the other’s stomach is already growling before they can even say yes. i feel like i wouldn’t have to say who is who - i’ll say it according to the order i wrote it in - bokuto, kuroo, you.

+GROUP CHAT CHAOS. kuroo created it one day, knowing there’s bound to be loads of discussions based on the tasks handed out to each group. once given the title ‘calculus give me a break’, it never stayed the same. some of the most memorable ones include, ‘✨hate triangle✨’, ‘bow down to lord kuroo’, and ‘kind people and kuroo.’ see, the last one was merely because kuroo teased bokuto just a little too much, and he decided to fight back. as for the second one.... i’m pretty sure you understand why. (hate triangle would probably originate from you or me so-)

+loads of movies together! it’s a common event you guys have among yourselves <3 i feel like most of them would be horror movies - with the purpose of ‘facing your fears.’ bokuto is already hiding under a blanket (but he doesn’t get too scared i think? he prepares for the worst.), kuroo screams at the main character being dumb enough to walk towards the noise source (might jump quite high), and then there’s you, wondering just how you ended up here with the two of them. once, the three of you couldn’t move on from the fear; so everyone collectively agreed to go on a streak of barbie movies the next time.

all created content belongs to mitraoki. reposts/remakes are not allowed.

tags; @mooncademia ilysm <33

#snow.writing #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #kuroo tetsurou #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu headcanons #fukurodani #nekoma #hq #hq x reader

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smhalltheurlsaretaken · 4 years

Text

THE BOX IS NABOO

That’s it, I’m doing it, I’m writing that stupid meta I’ve had in the works for two and a half years, I’m sharing it with the world. I promised it for last Thursday, my poll was forever ago, but whatever! I’m writing that freaking thing.

(super duper long post, press j to skip)

Enter my rabbit hole.

First thing to establish: the Box makes no sense whatsoever in-universe.

((EDIT: Something I forgot to mention. IRL, the premise of a giant murder cube and the aesthetic - wall patterns, light designs, etc - of the episode come from the 1997 horror movie Cube, (see the episode’s wookieepedia page). However, while the two are very closely linked visually, the Box does not follow the movie structurally or narratively, as you can verify by simply reading the movie’s summary.))

Recap of the context for the "Box" episode (s4e17): Palpatine is planning his own kidnapping. It was never meant to succeed, and while the plan would obviously benefit him (making the Jedi look bad, pushing Anakin closer to the Dark Side, making Republic citizens more afraid -> more docile, etc...) his actual goal is never explained, and it’s weird that he’d go to such extreme lengths for results so minimal that we’re never told what they are.

So Palpatine asks Dooku to kidnap him at the Festival of Lights on Naboo. Dooku hires Moralo Eval to design a giant box-thingy to test bounty hunters to hire the best of them to kidnap Palpatine. Moralo then gets arrested to alert the Republic that something is afoot, and hires Cad Bane to break him out. Obi-Wan - undercover to learn Moralo’s plan - goes with them. They evade capture and go to Serenno, and Bane and Obi-Wan have to pass the box-thingy test. The level of brainkarked logic here... Truly on par with Megamind, Gru and Heinz Doofenshmirtz.

Setting aside the insane plot holes and utterly nonsensical behavior of the villains, the Box itself is moronic from a plot perspective. It’s insanely complex, obviously incredibly expensive and would have taken months (more like years but it’s a short war) to make when it’s not even needed for the dastardly plot! Just hire some guys who have already proven themselves against Jedi! Throw cash at Bane and Embo and a few others! Maybe attack them with your saber and see how they do!

And after all that, Dooku still ends up trying to kidnap Palpatine on his own. I can’t even...

So why does the Box exist? Well, apart from being a nerdy callback to Cube, giving us a good thrill and being generally awesome to look at, it has actual narrative purpose within the SW universe.

The box is Naboo.

What the Box lacks in plot relevance, it makes up for with its heavily symbolic meaning. It very closely follows Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s experiences on Naboo - but only certain parts, which I’ll explain later.

We start with clean, sterile environments, SW’s favored way of showing villainy.

Then we have the protagonists locked in a room as dioxis, a poison gas, pours in.

And then they escape... this way.

(Okay, here the shaft is down, not up. And it’s not a ventilation shaft per say, it’s the designed escape route. Same difference).

We then skip most of TPM (namely, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon discovering the droid army, finding Padmé, leaving Naboo, landing on Tatooine, going to Coruscant, etc, etc) to come back to Naboo and go directly to the lightsabers and catwalks.

(Note: in both scenes, Obi-Wan has to propel himself from a catwalk.)

In TPM and TCW, the catwalks are immediately followed by ray shields

And we finally end with the last scenes. Now, they don’t look the same but they are structurally identical.

Obi-Wan is faced with a challenge unsuited for his abilities (facing Darth Maul // shooting three moving targets when he’s far more skilled with a blade than a blaster) on a narrow space above a melting pit/pit of fire.

He first watches someone die failing to complete the task...

... and has to do it himself, faring much better than expected (holding his own against Maul // shooting all the targets easily).

He then almost falls to his death and gets saved unexpectedly.

And then there’s the final showdown.

In both scenes, Obi-Wan is angry. And in TCW Dooku eggs him on, banking on his anger. (More on that later.) In both cases though, he centers himself and is able to overcome both his opponent and his own unbalance. But in TCW, he doesn’t go for the kill, because he doesn’t need to.

The Box, as a literal character-explorator ex-machina, thus shows us Obi-Wan’s growth.

In TPM, Obi-Wan follows Qui-Gon’s lead. In TCW, he is the leader. He identifies the gas, makes the plans. He doesn’t fall from catwalks anymore - he runs atop moving ones. He doesn’t stay stuck behind ray-shields, he finds the solution. (Btw, how did Moralo know what blood type Derrown the Exterminator was? There was a 50% chance of him dying - thus killing all of the bounty hunters. Was that an acceptable outcome? TCW I need answers!) He doesn’t slay his foes, because he’s become powerful enough, skilled enough and wise enough to survive (and win) without needing to kill.

He’s grown - and, even more interestingly, he’s also stayed the same. In the previous episodes, we see some of the dark aspects of Obi-Wan. How he - like all Force-wielders, all people - could lose himself if he stopped maintaining absolute control.

But in the Box, surrounded by the worst criminals of the Galaxy, the most ruthless, worthless people, he’s still kind and tries his best to keep them alive.

The Box is a reminder and a reassurance for the audience that Obi-Wan Kenobi is still there under Rako’s face. He hasn’t lost his compassion, his restrain. He’s still a Jedi. And he’s an awesome, badass one.

And now, for what it tells us about Dooku!

It’s much shorter, don’t worry. Basically, Dooku considers that the best way to pick “the best of the best” of the deadliest people in the Galaxy is making them go through what killed his Padawan. There, I’ve broken your hearts, you’re welcome.

More seriously, Dooku is a manipulative ass. It’s pretty clear that he knows Rako is Obi-Wan, or at the very least suspects it.

He has an interesting reaction upon learning Rako’s identity, he keeps praising him despite his usual distaste for low-lifes, he smirks secretively after Eval says “I’ll show you who’s weak” (not included there because it’s a close-up of Dooku’s lips and no one wants to see that) and he tells Rako he’s very disappointed when he doesn’t finish off Eval.

[Later]

(Look at this smug asshole - I can’t. YOUR GRANDSON IS THE BEST, WE KNOW, STOP ACTIVELY RUINING HIS LIFE ALREADY.)

(Dooku... why...)

Now obviously Dooku couldn’t have made the Box specifically for Obi-Wan, because it would have to have been designed months before the Council ever decided to send Obi-Wan undercover, but he has no qualms trying to use it to push Obi-Wan to the Dark Side. Ffs Dooku, making your spiritual grandson relive one of the most traumatic events of his life on the off chance that he’ll join you (and desecrate his Master’s memory in doing so) is not okay!

Final tidbits of analysis: I mentioned that not all of TPM is mirrored in the Box. What’s omitted is the droids (even though Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon fight B1′s and droidekas between the dioxis and the ventilation shafts) and anything pertaining to Sidious (all the political stuff on Coruscant). You’ll also note that the fake lightsabers are orange.

=> The Box distances itself from anything that connects Dooku to Naboo. Red lightsabers are the trademark of the Sith, so they’re not used. The bounty hunters will be facing Jedi, so logically the fake sabers should be green or blue - and yet they’re orange, the color closest to red without being red. It fits with Dooku’s special brand of dishonesty - he always tells bits of the real story but twists them just enough to absolve himself of any fault and to justify his choices.

(”We can destroy the Sith” -> could maybe destroy Sidious with Obi-Wan, but fails to mention he’s a Sith Lord himself; “the Viceroy came to me for help, that’s why I’m attacking the Republic” -> political idealism is a small part of it, but fails to mention he’s Sidious’ underling and is playing the Viceroy like a fiddle; “Qui-Gon would have joined me” -> maybe, still fails to mention he’s working for the man who ordered Qui-Gon’s death; “I told you everything you needed to know” -> debatable, never said that Palps was Sidious; “Sifo-Dyas understood, that’s why he helped me” -> partly true, doesn’t admit to killing Sifo-Dyas right after getting his help)

So we have a twisted version of Naboo, droid-free (as droids are now irrevocably associated with Dooku, even if that wasn’t the case in TPM) and with sabers that aren’t quite red. Keep in mind that Dooku had already fallen by TPM. (We know this because he killed Sifo-Dyas and created the Clone Army - part of Sidious’ plan - when Valorum was still Chancellor, as per the episode The Lost One.) That means Dooku was (in)directly complicit in Qui-Gon’s death. And the Box doesn’t (=refuses to?) acknowledge that.

(Also omitted in the Box are the Gungans and Tatooine. It makes sense, because Dooku probably wouldn’t have the full details regarding those parts of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan’s missio as they weren’t as public, and would see them as irrelevant if he did. He utterly despises Anakin, and Gungans are the type of people he always dismisses out of hand).

Anyway, that’s my two cents about the Box. To quote Lucas...

“It’s like poetry. It rhymes.”

Thanks to @lethebantroubadour @impossiblybluebox @nonbinarywithaknife @ytoz and @kaitie85386 for voting for this one. Next up is a compilation of the Jedi being casually tactile with each other (because they’re a warm and affectionate culture, dammit).

Also thanks to @laciefuyu for giving me gifs I ended up not using ^^; you rock anyway!

#meta #my meta #the box #deception arc #rako hardeen #rako hardeen arc #naboo #obi-wan kenobi #count dooku #cad bane #moralo eval #darth sidious

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

Here’s the ask to answer for your next try, lol. If only the people knew what we’re doing..

I don’t know what you’ve been planning with this, but I am scared.

Make me cry, Vaunna. Good luck!

we went for the happy kind of cry last time and it did not work SO here’s the soul-destroying kind of angst :3 good luck everybody

btw this is an AU to my fanon. it is in no way canon, it’s just a thing i thought might make Raven cry so :3 (and honestly im super proud of it so im happy whether or not it succeeds LOL)

a/n: bc a lot of my helsmits have the nickname Hels now, i’ve decided not to shorten their name to Hels when i’m writing them so that’s why Helsknight is continually referred to by his full name. sorry if it’s kinda awkward but it’s the way i wanna write it :)

…

Emerging from the forest, Wels takes in a deep breath of fresh air and sits down on a rock, the Yes Wings Club building in sight. After a nice walk out here with his hels counterpart, he needs to rest his legs for a moment.

“What is this?” asks Helsknight, approaching his counterpart with a thin pink object in his hand.

Wels glances up. “Oh, that’s an allium. It’s a flower.”

Helsknight stares at it for a moment. “What’s it for?”

“It looks pretty.”

“It does look pretty,” agrees Helsknight. “But is it functionally useful?”

Wels thinks for a moment. “It helps bees make honey. And you can give it to someone you like to show that you like them. But really, it’s just pretty.”

“Huh. Back in Helscraft, nothing exists just to be pretty.” After a moment, Helsknight sighs. “If I was in Helscraft, I’d just toss this back on the ground. Useless.”

“You’re not in Helscraft anymore,” Wels responds warmly. “You’re in Hermitcraft. If you like the flower, you should keep it. Useless doesn’t necessarily mean worthless.”

“That’s… That’s true.”

After a moment, Helsknight offers the flower to Wels, who gives a pleasantly confused frown. “What are you doing?”

Helsknight coughs awkwardly. “You, uh… You said you can give flowers to someone you like. I like you. Kind of.”

A wide grin appears on Wels’s face as he accepts the allium from his counterpart. “Aww. I think you’re actually starting to fit into Hermitcraft life.”

“How dare you,” Helsknight deadpans.

Wels laughs. “It’s not so bad. You seem a lot happier now than you were a few weeks ago. Maybe sometime soon, we can go ask Xisuma if you can be properly integrated into Hermitcraft.”

Helsknight stares at him hopefully. “Really? Do you think he’ll say yes?”

“If he sees how much you’ve changed and how valuable a member you can be, I think he might!”

“Wow…” Helsknight gazes down at the ground. “I can’t believe it might actually happen. I might never have to go back to Helscraft again.”

“If I have my way, you’ll stay here forever,” says Wels. “Anyway, you said you wanted to spar, right? It’s getting close to sunset; we’ll have to go home soon.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, let’s do it.”

Wels jumps up from his perch and the two start sparring with their swords. Within a minute, Helsknight sweeps Wels’s legs out from under him, causing him to crash to the ground, losing his weapon. “Hey!” Wels yelps. “That’s cheating!”

Helsknight laughs as he points his sword at Wels. “I believe that’s called a checkmate.”

Wels chuckles back and is about to respond when they both hear a voice scream Wels’s name from the direction of the Yes Wings Club building.

“Impulse?!” gasps Wels. “What is he-?!”

“Get away from Wels!” Impulse yells, charging at Helsknight with a sword. As the helsmit was not expecting an attack, Impulse is able to knock the sword out of Helsknight’s hand with no trouble.

“Impulse, don’t!” Wels yelps, struggling to get up. “He’s good now! He’s not evil anymore!”

But Impulse is already attacking Helsknight, who is unable to properly defend himself without a weapon.

Wels scrambles to his feet. “IMPULSE, STOP! HE’S NOT A THREAT ANYMORE!”

As Helsknight stumbles, Impulse lunges, clearly not thinking straight, clearly just trying to defend Wels from what he perceives to be an attack on his friend.

But he’s going to kill Helsknight. Forever.

So Wels shoves Helsknight out the way of Impulse’s attack. Impulse tries to stop his strike but it’s already too late.

Impulse’s blade pierces the centre of Wels’s chest and goes straight through the other side.

Letting go of his sword in shock and horror, Impulse stumbles backwards.

Helsknight quickly catches Wels as the latter’s knees sag and he lowers his counterpart to the ground, pulling out Impulse’s sword and tossing it away. He tries to stop the bleeding but it’s no use; the wound is too severe.

“Wels, I’m sorry!” Impulse cries. “I’m so sorry!”

Wels grasps weakly at Helsknight’s wrist, causing the latter to lift his torso up onto his lap. “Hels, don’t blame yourself,” Wels whispers. “P-Please. This was m-my choice, okay? Mine.”

“Wels…” Helsknight gazes down at his counterpart with anguished eyes. “Why would you do that for me…?”

“B-Because I like you,” rasps Wels with a weak smile. “Kind of.”

Helsknight squeezes his eyes shut, not trusting himself to speak again.

Finally, he feels Wels’s hand slide off his wrist, and he knows it’s over.

Welsknight was slain by impulseSV

Several seconds go by.

“Wh-Why isn’t he respawning?” Impulse croaks, starting to panic. “Why is his body still here? WHY ISN’T HE RESPAWNING?!”

Helsknight gazes down at Wels’s body with tears in his eyes. “I… Part of me didn’t think it was actually real…”

“WHAT’s real?” demands Impulse, his voice shrill with panic.

“It- It’s called the Hels Curse,” Helsknight explains shakily. “If a helsmit is directly or indirectly responsible for their counterpart’s death, their counterpart won’t respawn. It’s- It’s permadeath. And the curse is extremely specific, so it doesn’t matter that you were the one who killed him. Because you were aiming for me and he pushed me out of the way, I am indirectly responsible for his death.” Helsknight hangs his head and gently touches Wels’s shoulder. “He’s gone. Forever.”

His chest feels so heavy, weighed down by the knowledge that his best friend is dead. Wels loved Helsknight so much that he willingly sacrificed his life for him. That thought alone is enough to make a few tears flow from his eyes.

For the first time in his life, Helsknight is crying.

But after a few seconds, something springs to his mind and he hurriedly wipes his eyes. There IS something he can do. Another mechanism of being a helsmit that he can use here.

“This is your fault!” Impulse screams suddenly, kicking Helsknight away from Wels. “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!”

“Wait wait wait wait!” yelps Helsknight, frantically backing away from the furious hermit. “I can save him! I can save him!”

Impulse freezes in the process of picking up his sword. “What?”

“There’s a thing called the Altruist Failsafe,” Helsknight explains hurriedly. “Helsmits are created from the energy and lifeforce of their hermit counterparts. That’s why the curse exists: when a helsmit kills a hermit, they absorb the rest of their lifeforce, which is why they don’t respawn. But it also means they can give their lifeforce back to their hermit counterpart.”

Impulse stares at him suspiciously. “Are you saying you, an evil hermit, would sacrifice your life for Wels?”

Helsknights nods earnestly. “Wels took the blow you aimed at me. I was meant to die, not him. He deserves to live, not me. I can’t live in this world without him.”

With that, he moves over to Wels’s body and kneels down by his side. Impulse steps back, watching him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

Helsknight presses his hands to the centre of his chest and closes his eyes. After counting to three, he slowly moves them away from his chest, drawing out a small glowing red heart.

This is Helsknight’s lifeforce and without it, he can feel his strength already draining away.

So he quickly but carefully moves it down to Wels and pushes it into his chest the same way he had drawn it out of his own.

Immediately, Wels’s body starts to glow.

Helsknight rises unsteadily to his feet and staggers a few blocks away. He kneels beside the rock Wels had been sitting on earlier and props himself up against it, gazing up at the stars one last time.

They’re so beautiful.

Impulse, kneeling at Wels’s side, watches him. He watches Helsknight’s chest stop moving. He watches the light leave Helsknight’s eyes.

And at the same moment, Wels’s eyes open and he takes in an involuntary breath.

“Wels!” Impulse gasps. “You’re alive!”

Wels blinks in confusion, his gaze flickering all over as he tries to register where he is. “Wait, what happened? I-I’m supposed to be dead.”

“Helsknight gave his life for you,” explains Impulse quietly. “Some kind of… altruist thing, he said?”

“Oh-!” Wels’s heart freezes as his gaze lands on the limp body of Helsknight, propped up against the rock. Oh no! Nonononononono!”

He scrambles over to Helsknight and lifts his body onto his lap, trying desperately to awaken his counterpart. “Hels! HELS! NO!”

As it becomes increasingly obvious that Helsknight is dead, Wels hugs his body close to him, fighting back tears. “Why, Hels…?” he croaks. “Why would you do that for me…?”

“I’m sorry, Wels,” Impulse whispers, standing a few blocks behind Wels. “But… But you’re alive now. Isn’t that the best outcome?”

It takes Wels a few seconds to register what Impulse just said. “W-What…?! No!”

“A world where you’re dead and your hels counterpart is alive is not a good world, Wels,” says Impulse gently.

“I don’t care!” Wels’s voice cracks halfway through his sentence. “There’s a reason I jumped in front of your sword!”

Impulse, clearly taken aback by how furious Wels seems to be at him, gives a deep frown. “Wels, I don’t think you understand: you were permadead! You weren’t gonna respawn!”

“I KNOW!” Wels roars. “Hels told me about the curse!”

Impulse’s eyes widen in shock as he realises what his friend is trying to say. “Y-You were really okay with permadying for him?”

Wels carefully lowers Helsknight’s body to the ground and stands up to face his friend. “YES because HE would’ve permadied if you’d killed him! You just don’t LISTEN, do you?! I tried to tell you!”

“I-I’m sorry!” Impulse cries. “I saw him attacking you and I thought-!”

“I TRIED TO TELL YOU HE WASN’T A THREAT!” bellows Wels, unleashing all his grief and fury. “I TOLD YOU HE WAS GOOD NOW! AND YOU KILLED HIM ANYWAY!”

“I just wanted to protect y-!”

SLASH.

impulseSV was slain by Welsknight

Wels collapses to his hands and knees, his sword falling to the ground surrounded by Impulse’s items. He’s just killed his friend, but he no longer cares. Impulse will respawn. Helsknight will not.

He can’t believe Helsknight is gone. Not just gone but he sacrificed his life for Wels. He remembers Helsknight telling him about both the Hels Curse and the Altruist Failsafe. Part of him always knew he would die to the Hels Curse, but he never expected both of them to come into play within minutes of each other.

After a moment, he picks up Impulse’s shovel and starts to dig a hole in the ground not far from Helsknight’s body. When this is done, he carefully lifts his counterpart’s body into the hole and gently places Impulse’s sword in Helsknight’s hands, arranged so that the blade lies pointing towards the foot of the grave.

He sits back on his heels and takes a deep breath, letting tears fall from his eyes.

“Whenever death may surprise us, let it be welcome if our battle cry has reached even one receptive ear and another hand reaches out to take up our arms,” he says hoarsely, reciting an old soldiers’ prayer that he had learned during his service.

With that, he methodically fills in the hole and sticks his sword in the ground above its head as a makeshift gravestone. And as a final touch, he plants an allium over the site. The allium that Helsknight had given him just half an hour ago. When everything in the world was good and the future felt bright.

As Wels turns to leave, he spots an iron sword lying on the ground a little way off. He realises with a jerk that it’s Helsknight’s sword, lying where its owner had dropped it when he had been attacked by Impulse.

He picks it up and inspects the blade. A memory of Helsknight crafting this sword resurfaces and what he was talking about as he did.

If our battle cry has reached even one receptive ear.

He recalls the way Helsknight spoke about Helscraft back then, how it’s a horrible place because the universe gave the best worlds to Hermitcraft and abandoned Helscraft to fend for itself. How passionately he spoke about wanting to create a better life for his Hels siblings.

And another hand reaches out to take up our arms.

His hand closes around the hilt of the sword and he lifts it aloft, closing his eyes against the rain that has started to fall from the darkening sky, as if the server itself is weeping for Wels’s loss.

“I’ll fight in your name, Hels,” he vows. “I won’t let your sacrifice be in vain.”

#hermitcraft #welsknight #helsknight #impulsesv #vaunna’s requests

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jq37 · 3 years

Text

The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 6

Bitches Be Shopping

What is up y’all. A little late but let’s jump in with episode six of The Seven where our girls have just received a LOT of information, Sam most of all who got put into a little vision coma that she’s just now waking up from.

She explains the vision to her friends (as she interprets it, the other Eidolons didn’t die, just became part of the natural forces of the world) and then the bear that Penny made on a whim last episode (who is Russian, named Koda, and somehow a trained circus bear) gets into a fight with Katja with their friends buffing the two to make things more interesting because these are still idiot teens, life or death situation or no. Yelle decides to be the adult and tells them to knock it off and get back on mission.

That means Katja needs to call her dad since he’s knows the guy who’s the best lead to getting to TK ( Talcidimir Tallbreeze who I’ll call Tal). She actually manages to get her dad this time who is inside a giant snake on his hell mission. Katja asks what he knows about TK and he says she’s a sorcerer but also has a spell book so maybe she’s multiclassed. Sam and Ant desperately want to know if they boned and Katja absolutely is not interested in that knowledge. Yelle decides to just ask which makes her dad a little annoyed since he’s kind of in the middle of something (literally) and that annoys Ant, Ost, and Sam who--respectively, accuse him of gaslighting Kat, cast Command on him, and cast Bane on him to aid the Command spell.

Mr. Cleaver fails the save and Ost commands him to tell Katja the truth. He admits that he did hook up with TK and he regrets it (note: it wasn’t like he cheated. It was just a casual hookup that wasn’t fulfilling it seems). Ost demands he apologize for not being there for Kat and Sam berates him for being at the top of the world and not lifting up his daughter too. For his part, Kat’s dad seems genuinely apologetic and promises to do better.

“You don’t need to be the best father, you just need to be there,” Katja says, making her dad break down crying.

Yelle, who has no daddy issues, is a bit less aggro and says that everyone makes mistakes and he can start making it up right now by helping with the Tal situation. She also gives them the tip that a cold spell will probably get them out of the snake lickety split. She is on the money with the snake tip and Mr. Cleaver gets them all invites to a masquerade ball Tal is hosting. It’s being held on the Rumbosa which is this city-sized leisure ship. Mr. Cleaver says he’ll be back as soon as he can and, in the meantime, she should take care of her friends, “even the first 2 that were terrifying to me.”

The girls give Katja the axe they took as a birthday present (it was apparently her birthday the day before which Rekha just decided and Ost/Izzy refuses to accept without a fight because she *knows* Kat’s bday) which is identified as the Axe of Sundering (it can shatter objects, people, and sometimes concepts like halving movement). The two unnamed potions Yelle found are also ID’d as a Potion of Fly and a Potion of Gaseous Form. She distributes the Heath Potions to people without heals. Ant’s new arrows bypass some resistances and let her treat whatever she hits with the first one like it’s her favored enemy.

According to their invites, the ship they need is docking in the city of Gravalvia soon (a very old city in the Baronies) so they need to figure out a plan. They have some downtime, during which:

Zelda tries to hype up the team.

Zelda tries to see if Ost is OK wrt dad stuff and Ost has a Full Breakdown after badly pretending she’s fine.

While Zelda, Ost, and Penny are being Emotional and Sam is trying to literally cool them down with her powers, Ant and Yelle keep watch and experience emotional stability as the Adults Of The Party

Anyway, after a night of rest, they head to the golden city of Gravalvia which is this very cool, very pretty city with mosaics and fountains and I assume columns. They get there and there’s a dramatic fight happening in the square which is halted when one of the fighters realizes that the country he’s fighting for doesn’t exist anymore. And now, it’s time for what we’ve all been waiting for. Shopping Montage! Let’s go girl by girl.

Katja and Ost

Kat asks for help from Ost with getting fancy for this gala since she’s never really done anything dressy before (and she had no mom to help--Kaaaat) and Ost is happy to oblige, dressing them both like “Jersey trash”. Kat, of course, still wears her Khakis underneath.

Antiope

Ant decides to get a vibe for what people here wear and picks something that will blend in but be forgettable so she can be stealthy. Classy blue dress and mask.

Penny

Penny...OK, I absolutely cannot describe what happens here in any way that will do justice to the scene. I am going to tell you what matters to the plot. You have to watch this yourself if you want to see the entire table have a collective breakdown.

While looking for a costume, Penny runs into a halfling who is a member of the Society of Shadows--Laertes. He wants to know why she hasn’t responded to their invitation yet. She says she’s really eager to join, she just wasn’t sure how to respond (and also, she’s kind of in the middle of something). He says she can join by just messaging back and then her loved ones just have to sign waivers to have their memories wiped of her and she’s good to go. Say what now? asks Penny. She didn’t realize this was like a full Men in Black situation.

He says it’s ultimately her decision and leaves.

Of course, I left out the parts where he ate a handful of Candy Heart’s remains, became violently ill, almost projectile vomited into Penny’s mouth, and she tried to kiss him despite him being a full adult. It’s A Lot, ok?

Also, we don’t find out until later but Penny picks a sexy duck costume for reasons that make more sense if you watch the scene but not *much* more sense. She also burns one of the healing potions on this dude as he is bar

Danielle

Danielle tries to get some info on the guests at the party and gets the names Lawrence LaDuc, Princess Autumn, and Duston who is the playboy cousin of Tal. She also hears some dude saying some colonize and plunder the earth BS and casts Heat Metal on him, fully mercing the dude. Ice cold.

She tries to play it off like it’s the Curse of the Forest and when that doesn’t work and people start coming for her, she wildshapes into a dragon wyrmling and starts roasting people, killing 1 and dropping 2 to zero.

Unfortunately, one of her party members is a known dragon hater and uses her new arrows to snipe her right out of the sky. Ant is horrified once she realizes what she’s done but Yelle says it’s all good. It’s NOT all good, says Ant, I STABBED YOU. You’re allowed to be mad! Yelle says she’s just really good at compartmentalizing but what Ant’s getting here is that Yelle doesn’t really believe that her feelings matter which echo the fears of her moms.

Sam

Sam uses a combination of Mantle of Inspiration, glamour magic, performance, and good old flirting to get herself some killer clothes and also start a spontaneous musical number Giselle style.

Brennan says she looks resplendent and, honestly, when does she not?

They reconvene, Zelda in a classic hoop skirt. Yelle realizes she never got a costume and just whips out a Met Gala level, autumn themed, Queen Mab-esque costume with Druidcraft which she could have done this whole time so I guess that’s why she was cool spending her shopping time getting gossip and playing Poison Ivy.

They get to the ship and the way this works, everyone has to make an entrance and the really rich people (including Tal) are on a dais up top watching everyone come in. They all have to give fake names for the night since it’s a masquerade and they have to do Performance or Persuasion checks to see how impressive they look going in.

Before they go in, they plan a little. Penny wants to look for TK. Sam wants to find Dunston. Ost wants to talk to the bouncers. Yelle wants to see if there are plants she can manipulate (there are btw) and for any exits.

A quick rundown of how these all go:

Katja aka Mere (which means both mom and horse): 16

Ant aka Midnight Huntress: 18

Penny aka Penny Duckstone: 13

Zelda aka Madame Goodparty: 2 (Poor Zelda)

Sam aka Songbird: 22 (but she takes a hit to entrance save Zelda from totally flaming out)

Ost aka Stanley Gucci: 13

And Danielle, who never hogs the spotlight and is embarrassed to admit that maybe she does want to be the center of attention for once in her life with a Natural 20, gets a 29, absolutely bringing down the house as Empress Anima. As she walks forward she feels a voice say to her, “You got this. I love the name. You wear it well.”

Tal seems very impressed by her and a lady in a rabbit mask (Coeliabranca who I’ll call Coel if she comes up more) comes down to bring her up to the top with the high rollers. As she leaves, Sam casts Fly on her, just in case and holds the Concentration.

Ost and Kat go talk to the bouncers and Kat decides to pretend to be her mom to get access to the area Yelle is. She rolls low and is told, “Hey, aren’t you already up there?” Kat is like, fuck and Ost saves her by using her charm earrings to get an entourage of guards who will let them through and do what she says. Once up there, Kat doesn’t see her mom which I can imagine she has mixed feelings about.

Sam finds Dunston who is talking about Fantasy Bitcoin and seems like a real “Step on me mommy” type you know? Like, I feel like he’s into findom. Anyway, Sam charms him and his hangers on and learns about a procedure called a Phlebectomy that involves something going into their nose and then they feel better. Sam is rightfully horrified because, as I said, she is Most Likely To Survive A Horror Movie and can sense BS when she sees is. It’s apparently all the rage with the rich people here which is, como de dice, concerning seeing as they’re surrounded by them but we’ll get to that. Sam takes advantage of Dunston’s proclivities and gets him alone, knocks him out, steals him clothes, and pretends to be him (a *very* good scene by Sephie).

Penny sees a gnome gnome boy (Lysander Higgins) shining shoes and finds out from him that there is a copper earth genasi woman here. In a very Cinderella move, she asks what shoes she was wearing. Then, she makes out with him which like, sure. At least it’s not a grown adult man this time. Before she gets her kisses in, she does tell the group what she learned.

Up with the rich people, Yelle is introduced to Tal’s friend who is into Eidolons because of the name she chose. Between the shoes and her knowledge, they confirm that it’s TK! Yelle asks what she knows about Eidolons and she says that 7 is a very powerful number.

We cut to Ant who is patrolling the room as the sun sets and she suddenly hears a little beeping. It’s coming from a small crystal that was in Preston’s shirt (which she still has on her because???). Guests start dripping goo from their noses and transforming into monsters. Ant realizes that some kind of spell is happening triggered by midnight and this beeping. Hope these costumes are battle ready cause it’s fight time baybee!

Superlatives

Danielle: Most Likely to Be on The News for Murdering Fantasy Jeff Bezos

I cannot imagine what was running through Yelle’s head when she decided that, having just rolled into a foreign country, her next move was to start using lethal force on anti-environmentalist colonizing capitalists. Like, she’s not *wrong* per se but she is wild--in all senses of the word.

Random Thoughts

Kat keeps saying yesterday was her birthday which Ost/Izzy (and the rest of the group to a less vocal degree) are simply not having because maybe her dad would forget her birthday but her girls absolutely would not.

“You’re great because you stayed,” is the other killshot Kat line to her dad.

At a certain point Sam says, “This is so unhealthy,” to I think Yelle and like, if SAM is telling you your coping mechanisms are unhealthy, get thee to therapy.

OK, so someone, presumably Anima’s spirit, talks to Yelle as she makes her grand entrance which seems like info they should get to Talura ASAP, right? Cause that’s evidence they’re not dead-dead, just changed in form. But also Anima, girl. Don’t talk to Yelle. Talk to your rampaging sister!

"That's my secret, I stay in initiative."

Just a process note, notes are taken for the next ep and I am working on getting that recap up ASAP. As a battle ep, it will be in the abbreviated style that I did for last battle ep.

In this episode, Penny rolls a Nat 1 (which she rerolls) and one of Brennan’s NPCs rolls a Nat 1. Ant rolls 2 Nat 20s, Yelle rolls 1, and Brennan says that one of his NPCs gets a 20 which sweeps him entirely into Sam’s dance number.

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #the seven #the seven spoilers

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hughiecampbelle · 4 years

Text

You Remind Me Of My Own Unhappiness (Thomas Shelby Oneshot)

Character/s: Thomas

Word Count: 1,587

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @writerdream22 @brithedemonspawn @megnotfound @death-of-a-mermaid @woahitslucyylu @obsessedunicorn24 @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @theshelbyclan @creativemayhems @soleil-dor @thegirlwithoutaname87 @babylooneytoonz @peakyxtommy @locke-writes @lucillethings @miahelen @valkyrie-2312

A/N: A lil writing before I start requested prompt fics, which are still open btw!!!! Ngl, I've had this is my head for a while, and it turned out better than I expected!!!!! I've been reading for my horror fiction class, so I guess this is kind of based off/inspired by all of it (lots of Poe, Jackson, King, etc.) so be warned my loveliest of loves!!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

Summary: You knew too much for his comfort 💕

Gif Credit: @peakycillianblinders :)

FIC MASTERLIST PARTS 1 -> 3 / WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

The earth is soft in your palms, loose as your dig away, your fingers aching amidst the clumps and rocks. The maggots fall one by one off the bone, disturbed in their everlasting feast. Fresh in his mind, an open wound he leaves exposed, to bleed, to breath, to eat him alive. Shallow, as expected. Careless in execution. Impatient, your husband always in such a hurry. Even with this. Handful by handful, muddied, the morning dew undisturbed even as nightfall came. Smelling faintly of a sweet memory, that of the first time you kissed. The raindrops coming between you. Pulling away with a laugh, in awe, at how his beauty compared to that of a rainy day. Your shoes sinking deep, your hands clutching his arms as he pulls you from the muck, letting the slightest hint of a smile slip. The noise of that day, the plops from the pond, the quiet, yet powerful, taps of the leaves, the shudder of branches and bones alike cold from the breeze, the soft of his voice, low, teasing of all the things he'd do when you were alone. Lost, but not forgotten.

It doesn't exist here. The silence is heavy, deadly, respectful. Something he is not. Early, before the sun has her chance to even set and paint the sky. The in between, the dark not as inky as you remember, the stars fading in, resting for their show ahead. A creature of habit, your husban. Every night, at the same time, no matter what. Day by day, you grow less and less, and this becomes an ever harder task than before. Time staking, your movements slow, weary, all knowing of the journey ahead. There is an ache of gratefulness, a nod to the thoughtfulness you assumed he was lacking in, though it could have come out of selfishness none of the less. Not far from home. A quiet walk, that of seclusion. A quick pace, a tight jaw, he could have made the journey in no time. Your body was not as forgiving

No wooden box. Not eternal flame. A sheet, dirty now, and spotted in red, tangled around you. Wet and cold. The same sheets you used to wash, scrubbing clean, that thick soap smell no longer. One more thing you'd miss, the newness of this dying as each minute ticked by. That excitement, that joy, that want for anything more fades as all things do, decomposing with the rest of you. It's become a duty, an obligation, to him, to your marriage, as all things had been, or would become.

There is no where else to go. Nothing more to do. A broken routine was a broken man. Fight it, resist, and you might find him in the tub again, his spine kissing the porcelain, neck bent, waiting to sink until he finds the bottom. You might find him in the bed you shared, eyes open, never crossing that split down the middle, always faced away from your side. You might find him out, at the bar, a job, surrounded, your presence striking him, bloodying his lip. He stares, his balance off, truly shaken to his core. You are a guest he does not share, a secret he locks in his closet, a beating heartbeat under his floorboards.

So, you give up fighting, as you had the last time, and accept this battle lost. Wave your white flag, shaking yourself free of the sheets, standing uneasily on your own rotting skeketon. Step by step, your toes tearing, soles wasting, the entirety of you threatening to cave, making your way home. Tendons frayed, splitting apart. Your flesh bloated, runny, what's left is chewed away. You can feel it all. Your teeth chatter by the openings that were your cheeks, the cold passing right through you, whistling through your open ribcage. Dreadfully exposed. All of it is heavy. With nothing to hold, to cling to, you're stitched together by a single thread. You pull forward with all your strength, choking back a scream. It wasn't pain, not anymore, your nervous system long gone, but the memory of it bursts through your open chest the way it had in that moment, before everything seeped away in a puddle beneath you, and the warmth of your body grew into icy cold.

Your hair is all but gone, just like your middle. Innards spilling into your clothes, filling out, everything once protected inside catching their first taste of freedom. You give up making yourself anymore presentable. You could pass for sickly, at your best, even tired in the beginning. The bags under your eyes gone now, eaten away, the green tint to your demeanor disappeared, leaving nothing but a rotting smell. There was no hiding this, hiding the time that's passed. The flies buzz, bugs crawl freely. It's much their home as yours. You click, a tune you suspect is music to his ears, but it only leaves an ache in your hollow chest. There isn't much left of you, there isn't much more time.

How long does he want to do this?

How much longer can you?

The light streams through the windows, a welcomed warmth. You missed it. You missed that comfort, that knowledge of a place being yours. All you had left to your name was a hole in the ground, weak and muddy. Even then, few knew it was yours at all. The back door, the one only homeowners used. You could see it, your skeletal hand resting weakly on the heavy door. A night like every other. Pressing your ear to the door, listening, as if the pull from his want, his need to see you, hadn't tugged you the whole way here. This act, so small, so innocent, had lead to consequences he could never take back.

Listening, waiting, your own breath no longer a distraction, your own heartbeat no longer drumming through your veins, interrupting every word. It was the only way. Banished, shunned, turned away. Though you wrote his name, you did not share blood, a defining trait he could not look past. The business, family business, turned you away. Complicit, docile, that's what he expected, what you tried to be. Yes, Love. No, Love. For your own protection, Love, as if it hadn't been the barrel of his gun pointed at your chest.

Not everything, but enough, your first mistake was making it known. Invading his world one word at a time, overstepping boundaries with a bit of advice. That was all it took. You realized too late, none of it you could ever take back. Pleading, wide eyed, you promised not to say anything more, to keep your distance between the job, but the damage was done. He changed before your eyes. Tight, rigid, masking himself, crawling back into his shell. He trusted you, he did, but not after that. A man like him could trust no one, not even the person he married. If you knew, who else did? Even the smallest detail could be dangerous. It could coolapse his entire empire. He didn't want to, insisting there was another way, but they agreed as long as you lived, knowing what you did, none of them were safe. A family by name, hardly by choice.

So, by their insistence, he pulled the trigger.

He dragged the body.

He dug a shallow grave.

He made an elaborate story, one of belief, of half-truths, and throw away lines about your solemn departure seeking a new life, abandoning your husband for something else, each of them chipping pieces and plots to the story, anything to help them sleep a little easier.

And here you sat, the hard wood of your dining room chairs puncturing your back. There are two plates, and two sets of silverware. A candle is lit between you. Not always, but tonight it seems he's been missing you more. A napkin sits on your lap, waiting, covering the mangled mass that used to be your lower half. He sits across from you, the space between you large enough to seat the entire family. Only two, though. Everyone else has left, gone, suspecting what it is Mr. Shelby is up to, wondering why they are let go more frequently, always at the exact same time. He musters up a smile, that of pain, with horror in his eyes, finally realizing just how cruel this has all been for you. You smile back, pieces of you ripping open, your lips uncurling, splitting in two, revealing a mouth empty of teeth.

Thomas speaks lightly of the day passed. The endless dread of paperwork, the faint gnaw that someone has been following him lately, a special nod to the advice he took from you that had been successful. No thank you, though. No admittance of grief or wrongdoing, no apology, not even a word of what you were really doing here. He couldn't let go, move on, he couldn't shake the guilt that woke you each night and put you to bed hours later. You were dead, killed by his own hand, had been for quite some time. Yet, every night after the murder you joined him. For dinner, for drinks, to sleep beside him in the bed you shared since your wedding day. Step by step, decaying in your time of rest, the same thought in your mind over and over, never letting it escape your lips, you knew better from the last time: when would he let you rest in peace?

#what a bastard im so in love with him #writing #thomas shelby #thomas shelby drabble #thomas shelby oneshot #peaky blinders #peaky blinders drabble #peaky blinders oneshot #thomas shelby x reader #thomas x reader #x reader #drabble #oneshot #thomas shelby fic #peaky blinders fic #gender neutral #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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honorable-wanderings · 3 years

Text

Word of Honor - Episode 2 Part 1 - Stalking, but in like. A sexy way

(Sorry! For some reason the “readmore” isn’t working right!)

WE JOIN OUR “HEROES”....

exactly where we left them.

ZZS looks confused, offended, and slightly intrigued by the new person added into Smash Bros.

Look at him. Tryin to be all cool. Make a good first impression.

----------

I’m not really sure what kind of a power move it is wrapping up her whip and pulling her closer in a chastising way in front of the man you have already decided to try to seduce but it is a power move none the less.

And it seems to be working! :o

----------

There’s more pouting in this show than I originally anticipated.

“A-Xiang, stop attacking random people on the street. At least wait until your martial arts don’t suck ass first.”

----------

And so the dance begins.

Look at that smirk. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

---------

Waste not your honored thanks on me, kind gentleman. I am but a lowly drunkard lying dirty and prone on the street. The error, therefore, must have been my own!

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

I got my eyes on you!!!!

To quote a kind young lady that I met quite recently. “I don’t give a FUCK”

----------

Oh wait, you’re still here?

----------

Best boy alert is going crazy!!!

We may have just met ChenLing, but I would die for him. That also seems to be the general consensus with the other characters as well.

----------

“It is dangerous outside the town walls, so I cannot allow a child like you to... ...A sword? My apologies, sir. It was wrong of me to treat you like a child. “

What? That’s not what he said?

----------

“Are you injured or ill?”

*looks into the camera like it’s the office*

----------

ZZS out here looking like a tragic renaissance painting.

“Young master can we go now? He smells D:”

“Sure just a sec! Let me just leave him my house keys!!”

“What??? Nooooo”

“What was that phrase I learned today? I don’t give a fuck?”

(On a side note I am trying to learn French atm and deadass almost wrote “fraise” instead of “phrase” even though it means “strawberry” and doesn’t have anything to do with the conversation at hand.)

----------

I came out here to enjoy the sun and some peace and quiet and some good alcohol. The peace and quiet is gone. And so is the sun. Now this dickwad’s saying I might be bad because I dress like shit? I was the nicest dressed royal assassin ever and now that I’m a hobo I’ve never been more upstanding! I haven’t even killed a single person in like a year and a half (other than myself).

At least I still have you, alcohol.

----------

Meanwhile back with these two,

A-Xiang is still mad that she lost a random fight she picked with someone who looked like a pushover.

More pouting ensues

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

“Get good”

Master KeXing reveals he knows more than he revealed to know previously when he was pretending not to know what he has now revealed he knows.

A-Xiang wants to know if he’s making shit up again.

-----------

The plot is driven forward by the playful rhyming chants of children. Honestly that’s top tier horror movie quality plot beat right there. Add a sense of foreboding to your story even though we’re still in ‘lighthearted silly time”

Good job!

----------

Zhou Zishu wonders, surely not for the last time, why everyone in the martial arts world can’t just calm the fuck down.

----------

ZZS then decides that after being accosted by random people on the street while he was snoozing and minding his own damn business that that seems like a lot of fun and decides to accost some random person on the street who was snoozing and minding their own business.

---------

Why doesn’t anyone ever believe that I’m fucking loaded? I’ve got like 2 years left and I’m gonna blow my life’s savings before I go muthafucka. You want 3 mace of silver for a half-mile boat ride? Done motherfucker did I stutter?

----------

“Hello. I’m totally not stalking you. :D”

----------

“You wanna ride my boat? ;)” he asks, shouting it across the river so that he could be heard. “What?” Zhou Zishu replies, not able to understand him over the babbling of the water.

“I said! Do! You! Want! To! Ride! My! Boat? Winky Face!”

“Did you just say “winky face??”

“Yeah I was worried you couldn’t see it from there!”

----------

Somehow today has turned out much more interesting than I had anticipatd

----------

“We’ll meet again if fated!”

“Challenge accepted”

----------

Yes I am only keeping an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t fuck with my plans. And that is the only reason. Yes. that’s why I’m going to follow him. Just this. Only that. No other reason.

----------

This place is pretty! I think this would be a great place to die!

Hun, you still have a couple years. You can always come back to die here later but like chilling in a field of flowering trees for 2 years will kinda lose its novelty if you don’t do other things too.

----------

GIVE ME YO’ FUCKIN’ MONEY!!

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You said I’ve already ridden and dashed so what’s the point in my paying you now? Toodles!

-----------

This place is pretty but I love how people never walk anywhere. Like the trees would look prettier if you were in them you know.

----------

HOly fuck! Being rude as shit is so fun! How have I never tried this before?

----------

Uh.. question: How did this get here? It’s clearly dry docked but it’s no where near the water. Why is it here???

Ah well. It’s free real estate

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WHY IS THE RUM GONE?

----------

Do I have “attack me” written on my face or something? For the love of fuck! I’m not drunk enough for this!

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“Meh”

“Meh? I think not good sir.”

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Would you believe that this wasn’t even rehearsed?

-----------

For someone who does not want people to see his chest, this is certainly a lot of chest exposed???

----------

Not sure that’s how fans work, but hell maybe I’ve just been using ‘em wrong all this time

Holy fuck is it heat seeking???

----------

Surprise!!!

-----------

Pff. Okay. Like I will ALWAYS love it when some not sharp object flies into something and sticks like it’s made of razor sharp blades. And I know TECHNICALLY it’s possible - what with a tornado being able to slam a single piece of straw through cinder block. But it will always make me smile.

(And while that is a smile at how ridiculous it is, it is with 100% legit affection and charm. I legit love it)

Just. “Thunk”

----------

Who is attacking me? Were they sent by the prince? Do they know who I am? Do I need to get serious?

Oh... It’s just that random guy again.

Well that’s okay then.

--------

I apologize for once again attacking you randomly and completely unprovoked in the middle of nowhere. My bad.

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“My footwork has godlike elegance huh? You shoulda seen me when I wasn’t dying.”

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I came here to check out dat ass again and I was not disappointed. ;)

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Don’t stand so- Don’t stand so- Don’t stand so close to me ♪

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“Why don’t we drink on my boat?“ “I don’t want to sleep with you!“ “Yet ;)”

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Why the fuck are you following me? Just say what you want from me already!

Bitch you invited me

-------

“He’s so good at kissing ass”

Oh just you wait.

--------

Still gonna stalk you btw! ♥♥♥

#word of honor #Shanhe Ling #zhou zishu #wen kexing #Gu Xiang #zhang chengling #spoilers #episode 2 #Long Post #Writing WoH

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makeste · 4 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 272: (Directed by Michael Bay)

Previously on BnHA: The My Child Soldiers Academia arc finally started to live up to its name as Tokoyami became the first (but I assure you not the last) victim of traumatic mental scarring courtesy of Horikoshi’s sick games! So he and Dark Shadow showed up to stop Dabi from murdering Hawks and were all “please don’t kill our mentor.” Dabi was all “AH BUT YOUR MENTOR KILLED SOMEONE ELSE, AND ISN’T THAT JUST LIKE THE HEROES THOUGH, THEIR HANDS ARE SO STAINED WITH BLOOD” and then he tried to set both of them on fire several times in succession. Hawks was all “Tokoyami just run away while he’s in the middle of his five-hour sermon” and so they tried but Dabi followed them! But then Geten was all “ALL RIGHT EVERYONE... CHILL” and fucking froze everything for no discernible reason, and Tokoyami fled the building with an unconscious Hawks in tow as the battle raged on. The chapter then ended with Gigantomachia being all “I smell my master!” and standing up, hahaha oh fuck.

Today on BnHA: Well you guys are not going to believe this, but it turns out that Tomura waking up is actually a very bad thing. A “worst case scenario” if you will! Because, get this, he has a quirk that can destroy anything, which spreads from whatever he touches to fucking everything and everywhere else. Gosh, if only we’d known about this since like 35 chapters ago. If only we’d had a spy among the villains who could have warned us, and three entire months to plan our attack, and literally every single hero in Japan on call to help us when the time came. Anyway so you’re really going to be shocked by this I’m telling you, but it turns out that when a crazy powerful person who wants to destroy everything finally wakes up, he immediately starts destroying everything with his crazy power. So X-Less dies and Crust dies and everyone else runs, and meanwhile the kids, who are on the outskirts of the city finishing up the evacuation, stand there in shock as the plot rampages toward them ready to swallow them whole. The chapter ends with Deku powering up to FORTY-FIVE PERCENT YEAHHHHH, and oh shit. Finally we’re doing this.

I am not even remotely done with all the shit I’m supposed to be finishing up, but fuck it, I need a break and reading the new chapter is by far the funnest thing on my current to-do list, so!

OH SNAPS MY BOY HAS FINALLY OPENED HIS EYES

IT ONLY TOOK HIM... OKAY LOOK I’M NOT GOING TO GO BACK AND COUNT ALL OF THE CHAPTERS, BUT LET’S SAY... FIFTEEN. ...HUNDRED. CHAPTERS TO FINALLY SNAP TO IT AND COME JOIN THE PARTY. BUT IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT! PROBABLY. AHH LET’S JUST READ ON

-- ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohm --

[puts on glasses and unfolds map while poring through a mess of scribbles on post-it notes] -- hold up, if my calculations are correct, I’m pretty sure “somewhere a bit further from the hospital” is, in fact, where a certain THREE TROUBLE-PRONE DISASTERS ARE CURRENTLY HOLED UP. AHHH

can it really be true. are we finally rejoining our protagonist and his buddy cop friends after 97 years. how will everyone react to Deku reacting to Tomura waking up ahhhh

so Burnin’ is yelling at the civilians to let them know if they have any family or friends who need assistance evacuating

god I hate the fact that this is a fucking understatement

they’re not taking any chances after Kamino and Fukuoka huh. fool them once, shame on you. fool them twice, oh shit. but there will not be a third time! no one fucking destroys three cities in the span of six months on their watch, no sirree

(ETA: ...)

lol the kids are trying to get the elderly citizens on a bus to evacuate, but a lady is trying to give them candy and Kacchan and Ochako are of two different minds on whether or not to accept

Kacchan is absolutely right about Ochako’s motivations, but in her defense, who the fuck turns down free chocolate

IIDA!!

FUCKING CHRIST JAPAN IT’S 200 YEARS IN THE FUTURE AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T SWITCHED TO DIGITAL RECORD-KEEPING? WHY IS THIS THE MOST REALISTIC THING IN THE ENTIRE MANGA TO DATE. MY GOOD SIR, IIDA IS LYING THROUGH HIS TEETH, ALL RECORDS AND BUILDINGS ABSOLUTELY CAN AND WILL BE COMPLETELY OBLITERATED IN THE CARNAGE TO COME. I’M SORRY TO BE THE ONE TO INFORM YOU OF THIS, BUT DAMN IT SOMEONE HAS TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY

(ETA: I sure hope these poor bastards had good insurance.)

also. this man here who looks like Beaker from the Muppets, who presumably has the power of Doing Anything Those Wacky Flailing Inflatable Tube Men That You See Outside Of Car Dealerships Can Do. ...yes. that’s it. that’s an intentionally incomplete sentence with a subject but no predicate. I just feel like we should all sit and stare at him for a good thirty more seconds before continuing on with our lives

OH MY GOD

THEY’RE EVACUATING THE PETS TOO AHHHH. EXCUSE ME CERTAIN SOMEONES WHO THINK ALL HEROES ARE “DIRTY.” I SEE YOUR ARGUMENTS AND RAISE YOU THIS ONE SINGLE PANEL. YEAH THAT’S RIGHT. NOW WHAT DABI. AT A LOSS FOR WORDS I SEE. YOU JUST SIT AND PONDER THAT FOR A WHILE

is... this... a space shuttle man

is this literally just a man with a Boeing for a head. FUCKING QUIRKS THOUGH!!!!! ~*~wild~*~

OH MY GOD AND WE’RE BACK

time for some HORCRUX SHENANIGANS!! IS YOUR LIGHTNING BOLT SCAR BURNING DEKU. I CAN’T BELIEVE HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED IS BACK AHHHH

so now he’s slightly hunching forward with his hands pressed together and Todoroki is immediately sensing that something is wrong ahhhhh

(ETA from like 5 days later: I had that as “Tokoyami” instead of “Todoroki” for the better part of a solid week you guys. SHOUTO YOU WERE GONE FOR SO LONG I FORGOT YOUR FUCKING NAME whoop.)

here come dat angst. here comes Horikoshi’s hand beckoning the trio closer and welcoming them to the pain parade ahhh. from now on that’s how I’m ending all my sentences btw. it just seems right. ahhh

OH MY LORD OH MY

ladies and gentlemen, YOU WERE SAYING DEKU DIDN’T HAVE ENOUGH CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT LATELY? HE’S NOT INTERESTING ENOUGH AS A PROTAGONIST, IS HE? well maybe that’s because Horikoshi has been saving this one juiciest of plot nuggets for a rainy day precisely like this! BRING ON THAT CHOSEN ONE ANGST AHHHHH

anyway so yes it is indeed OFA speaking to him in the form of Lil Bro a.k.a. the first user

lol I’m trying to think of commentary but it’s difficult seeing as I’M ALREADY SCROLLING DOWN TO IMPATIENTLY READ THE NEXT PAGE

lmao the fuck

okay Princess Zelda. can you get any more flowery with those descriptions though. A TRANSCENDENT BEING. A SUPERLATIVE ENTITY. A SUBLIME, PREEMINENT ORGANISM. FREED FROM ITS SHACKLES. UNFETTERED BY ALL EARTHLY LIMITATIONS

OH MY GOD

it absolutely boggles my mind that this guy is somehow still alive. ??! how many chapters and panels has it been now. he’s like the goat in the t-rex pen in fucking Jurassic Park. WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO GET EATEN ALREADY

...

do you... want a blanket. ...?

(ETA: do you ever just. wake up and you’re like “ah shit it’s cold”, and then you destroy an entire city. mm.)

do you all suppose X-Less is fully aware that he’s about to die though? he hasn’t even moved. I imagine that sitting next to Tomura actually is much like sitting next to a giant t-rex. like he has to know there is no getting out of this alive. poor guy

damn Mic isn’t even looking back he’s just running back into the main room where all the rest of them are

wow this fight is still going on

I don’t know why, I just expected it to all magically be over all of a sudden now that we have bigger things to worry about. do you guys remember when we were all worried about the High End Noumus being the biggest threat. hahahahaha

(ETA: moment of silence for ALL OF THE FUCKING HIGH ENDS lmao. that did not go how I expected that plotline to go AT ALL, but at least we got the best fucking battle in the entire manga out of it.)

jesus CHRIST ENOUGH WITH THIS

WE GET IT TOMURA IS DANGEROUS AND SCARY AND EVIL AND AWAKE!!! JUST PLEASE GET TO IT ALREADY GOD I’M BEGGING YOU

FINALLY

goddammit. my reaction to this should have been much more “!!!” and “OH SHIT”, but he dragged it out so much that my initial reaction was one more of relief than horror. maybe it’s because of the way I read the chapters, constantly pausing to do commentary as I go along, but whenever a chapter has a ton of panels of people just staring into the distance awash with dread, it really stands out to me lol. there’s only so much I can write about that kind of thing. ah well at least we’re finally getting to the action

I genuinely can’t tell if Ujiko is frightened that he’s about to be disintegrated by Tomura’s quirk, or excited that Tomura is awake

maybe both lol. well don’t worry you’re not gonna die that easily, much as you would not catch me complaining if you did

thanks Gran

lol where was all this speed throughout the rest of this arc though. “we’re only competent when the plot necessitates it” huh. is that right

oh shit it’s destroying the rest of the lab

those are all of Ujiko’s collected quirks, right? someone please tell me if this is a good or a bad thing. on the one hand if they’re all destroyed it means Tomura can’t get them and Ujiko can’t make any more Noumus. but on the other hand this means they won’t ever be able to give them back to the original users (if any of them are even still alive). and also that’s a lot of evidence that’s being wiped out as well

oh shit they didn’t know about this?!

even after Deika City, you didn’t put two and two together?? even with all of Hawk’s intel?? what the hell did you think happened there?

well this explains why everyone was so la-dee-da-no-rush about capturing him though. well that’s on you guys. next time maybe don’t waste 20 minutes uselessly battling redshirt Noumus while Mirko has to do everything herself

anyway so I feel like people other than X-Less are almost certainly going to die here, and fuck. I’m not ready for any of this

AHH THE KIDS

BIT SLOW ON THE UPTAKE THERE KACCHAN LOL. FOR A MOMENT YOU HAD ME WORRIED THERE WAS SOMEHOW A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT THREAT APPROACHING FROM THE OTHER SIDE, BEFORE YOU TURNED AROUND TO LOOK WHERE THE OTHERS WERE LOOKING

ALSO JUST A FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT SHOUTO’S DAD IS IN THAT HOSPITAL, ALONG WITH THEIR TEACHER! HERE. COME. DAT. ANGST

LOOK AT THIS CONSPICUOUSLY INTACT BUILDING AS IT STANDS THERE ALL OMINOUSLY WITH THE NEARBY BIRDS AND CRITTERS FRANTICALLY FLYING AWAY

I want to see it crumble so bad. now this is the kind of foreboding cinematic disaster movie bullshit I can get into

FFFF WHY IS THIS PANEL SO HARD TO SEE

THERE’S TOO MUCH CHAOS AND TOO MANY PEOPLE LOST AMIDST ALL THESE SHATTERING AND FALLING TUBES, BUT I NEED TO MAKE SURE EVERYONE IS SAFE AHHH

...okay so I see Ryuukyuu in the top right, and I think that’s RockLockRock on her back. Thirteen is clearly there in the bottom center, but I don’t know who that is next to them. and then of course Gran and Mic on the left. and a bunch of others spread out in various other places, but... where the hell is Aizawa??

OH THANK GOD

FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI, I KNOW FULL WELL YOU’RE NOT JUST GOING TO KILL OFF THE WORLD’S PREEMINENT DAD STRAIGHT UP OUT OF THE BLUE HERE, AND YET I STILL FELT ANXIETY AT THIS LAST PANEL. HOW DID YOU EVEN

BITCH YOU BETTER LET THE FUCK GO BEFORE I --

!!!

oh my god I gasped in real life. stop making me fear for the lives of main characters!!

he. he --. crust. he. ...

I literally stopped reading and had to stop and cover my mouth with both of my hands I’m

silence. no screaming. no flailing. no freaking out. just silence

shit. rest in peace you old sedimentary bastard. respect to you for saving the father of my children in your last fleeting moments. I still have not the slightest idea how you rose through the ranks to somehow become the sixth fucking highest rated hero (HERO BILLBOARD CHART, IS EVERYTHING ALL RIGHT. ARE YOU FEELING OKAY), but you sure did go out with style though

also this may be tacky of me to point out during such an emotionally charged moment, but one second Aizawa is wearing his goggles like normal, and the next they’re suddenly pushed up onto his forehead so we can see the anguish in his bloodshot eyes. there was no reason to do that other than angst and we all know it. so yes Shouta you dramatic bitch, I am calling you out. why Horikoshi felt he had to add to your many accumulated traumas is beyond me. you don’t deserve this and I am so, so sorry

OH GOOD I WAS JUST ABOUT TO ASK WHERE THE FUCK ENDEAVOR WAS

seeing as we just went over this with Gran, I will take the high road here and won’t ask why you’re only this fast now and couldn’t have been this useful this ages ago back before Tomura woke up. oh wait does sarcastically saying I won’t bring it up count as bringing it up. well whatever. middle road, then

sob I’m getting flashbacks to the end of Return of the Jedi when they’re all frantically flying out of the Death Star as it explodes

friendly reminder that Ryuukyuu, clearly the fastest one here despite carrying like 20 people, was number 10 in the rankings for some unknown reason. again, r.i.p. Crust you well-meaning geriatric soul

also just a stray thought, I hope it’s clear now why it was so important to give Deku those additional quirks. at a minimum he needs Blackwhip and Float just so he doesn’t instantly die the moment he’s in Tomura’s general vicinity. sob I’ve joked so much about flying quirks and here they are becoming fucking prerequisites now

anyway so Ujiko is mourning the loss of his lab, which again, good riddance mostly. but r.i.p. that evidence though

(ETA: nah the “total loss” part is referring to how the heroes fucked up so soundly and thoroughly. anyway no one would blame Mic if he accidentally dropped Ujiko in the midst of all this chaos, I’m just saying. I guess they need any intel he could still provide now more than ever though.)

OH MY GOD!!

LAUNDRY HERO WASH?! THIS SUDSY BOI CAN ACTUALLY KICK ASS WHAAAAT

oh my god oh my god it’s still spreading??!

fuck fuck fuck at this rate it’ll reach the kids

(ETA: that happened really fast actually.)

-- oh FUCK NO you had better NOT FUCKING TOUCH FUCKING PIXIE BOB, I WILL MAIL MYSELF TO JAPAN PANDEMIC OR NO PANDEMIC. DO YOU NOT SEE THE SIGN THAT SAYS “OFF-LIMITS.” RESPECT THE SIGN

SOB SHE’S SO BADASS BUT IT LOOKS LIKE IT’S STILL DISINTEGRATING FUCCCCCK. FUCK MY LIFE, FUCK EVERYTHING

AHHHHH

I can’t tell if her earthbending was able to stop it or not?? god help us all if it didn’t, I’m not even sure what else could stop it at this point

SHUT UP UJIKO!!

they really did. only to fuck it up completely at the finish line. well, the man most singularly responsible for it is dead now, again r.i.p. Crust you useless old legend

lmao despite myself

“by a miracle, or maybe through sheer will” even he acknowledges that Tomura waking up was basically complete bullshit. yes blah blah yadda yadda got zapped by some exposed wires explanation science. because we all know that getting electrocuted will fix you right up when your heart has stopped and you have completely flatlined. you can definitely trust Horikoshi on this and there’s absolutely no need to google how defibrillators actually work

also is he somehow wearing a cape now. again by a miracle or maybe through sheer will

YESSSSSSS

(ETA: one has to wonder what Ujiko’s plan was, assuming this scheme had actually played out. were they just banking on Tomura not waking up cranky and disoriented and wanting to test out his power. his quirk doesn’t exactly distinguish friend from foe here I’m just saying.)

the part of me that goes all “ooh ahh” when all the buildings explode in Independence Day is singing inside. but never fear, the rest of me is appropriately horrified though. what was that Burnin’ was saying about the city becoming a large-scale battle zone? sob

also this page sure serves as a nice refresher for exactly why Tomura Waking Up Was Bad, which was inexplicably a topic of some debate in recent weeks. yes in spite of everything the villains are still the bad guys who’d have thought. almost as if the purpose of humanizing a character is to show that they’re human, not that they’re right

WHAT’S THIS NOW???

WELL I’LL BE. IT’S BEEN AN EVENTFUL THREE MONTHS, APPARENTLY!??

HOOAHHHHHHHH

IT’S A BIRD IT’S A PLANE IT’S A BADASS OH SHIIIIITTTTTT

finally finally finally!!!!!!

THE SHIT HAS HIT THE FAN, REPEAT, THE SHIT HAS HIT THE PROVERBIAL FAN. THE PLOT IS FINALLY HAPPENING, REPEAT, THE PLOT IS FINALLY FUCKING HAPPENING AHHHHHH

and there is no one coming to save them this time. no one to arrive at the last second and say “it’s all right now because I am here.” they have to save themselves. they have to save everyone. the training wheels are finally coming off. the safety net has been removed. after 272 chapters, the story has finally reached a point where these kids, these children, who in spite of all they’ve been through have been protected and shielded from the worst of it up till now, will finally have to be the ones to save the day all on their own

and they are not ready. but also maybe they kind of are??! but they definitely are not. and oh god oh god oh god, FINALLY WE’RE REALLY DOING THIS. TIME TO FIX THE MESS THOSE SILLY GROWN-UPS MADE, CHILDREN. YOU GOT THIS

#bnha 272 #shigaraki tomura #midoriya izuku #aizawa shouta #ujiko daruma #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #if the next few chapters don't feature some kind of avengers-style epic team up pose I will sue #what has this all even been building up to if not that #remember that the kids are not allowed to die though horikoshi #remember what we agreed upon #you remember right #right #horikoshi???

321 notes · View notes

bowieandqueen11 · 4 years

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Remember When / Hargreeves Imagine

Request: Love ur writing btw!! I have a Great idea for a Diego fic! Can u do his siblings somehow finding tapes/videos from the mental asylum Diego was in and seeing how badly he was tortured and abused. Then he has a panic attack or something at the end and they comfort him.

I-ugh anon omg - my heart <3

Warning, some strong language, and also some descriptions of abuse, so please don’t read if it will make you uncomfortable!

Comments and reblogs are so so so appreciated, as this took me honestly way to long XD! Thank you!!

‘Way to go. Real Team Zero back there.’

‘Diego, we’ve already been through this. Dad’s a stubborn prick, as he has been, all our sad lives, yada yada, we’re sorry, okay? We should have known he’d still be the same condescending asshole’, Klaus replies, waving his hands in the air as he climbs the stairs back up to Elliot’s apartment. Rubbing his left eye with his hello tattoo, he uses his right to try and fumble a blunt out of his pocket, clenching it between his teeth. As he feels Luther’s footsteps pound up the rest of the way and jog past him to the landing, he can’t quite seem to light it - his fingers are still trembling too hard from the pain of Ben stealing his body in the way he did.

Running up the stairs after him, Diego leaves behind the rest of his shell shocked siblings. Instead he focuses on tucking in the corners of his shirt back into his pants, trying to do anything to stop himself focusing on Reginald and the tears that still threaten to prick at the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t even notice when he walks head first into Klaus, until he has put a hand out and gripped onto his shoulder to stop them both from tumbling back down the stairs like bowling balls and straight into Allison.

‘You, brother, are an idiot. And a fat lot of help’, he smirks, sadly, gently slapping Klaus on his cheek.

‘Rude’, Klaus shrugs, winding his way towards the kitchen and kicking off his shoes in the process, looking for some Vodka to steal.

Allison hops quickly out of the way of the incoming shoes, used to his antics by now, and instead comes to settle next to where Vanya has plodded herself down on the sofa. Fiddling with her oversized jumper, a far away look on her face, Allison places a comforting hand on her bicep and gives her a sorrowful smile.

‘What do we do now?’, Vanya murmurs out as Luther squirms uncomfortably on one of Elliott’s wooden chairs. He ignores the beeping of the machines behind his head, instead swallowing thickly.

‘We, uh... wait for Five, I guess.’

‘No no no, right now, the most important thing we can do to try and change the world, is save JFK.’

‘Ughh we’ve been through this a million times! That’s not how it works Diego!’, Klaus calls from the kitchen, only a cloud of smoke trailing out from behind the wall and filling the room with both a stagnant smell of weed, and a light fog that seems to dampen the small amount of sunlight filtering through the askew blinds, which Elliott had been taking photos through earlier this morning.

‘Look, I get that you’re on some big crusade to prove something to dad, but this is not helpful right now.’

‘We all need to stick together and stop this thing’, Allison chimes in, desperation in her voice.

Luther’s interrupted from his continuing thoughts by a small squeak out of Vanya, following her eyes from where they are trained to a spot on the rug.

‘Oh my god... is that blood? Is someone bleeding?’

‘Holy shit.’

He gets up then, following the trail, beckoning his sisters to stay behind him with his hands until he reaches the dentistry chair at the edge of the landing, grimacing slightly as he turns to swivel it towards him with a squeak. He feels Klaus bump into one side of him, and Diego hit onto his other elbow, a rusty kitchen knife raised and ready, and a look of almost determination on his face, as if he had just been waiting for something awful to happen, just another chain of bad events so he knew his life was back onto its normal tracks.

‘Oh noooo’, Klaus groans, cupping his hands over his mouth as Elliott’s body turns to face them, a knife planted firmly in his eye.

Turning away from the tortured body of his friend, Diego swallows thickly, dropping his knife to the floor and placing an arm over his stomach. None of his siblings really notice, all of them looking over the dead body aghast, wondering, pained that they were the ones who caused something like this. None of them noticed the shake in his hand as he squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the bile back down his throat again.

Klaus, however, did notice something. However, sadly for Diego, it was not the right thing - not the signs of shock, anxiety, or guilt that flashed over his brother’s face - the signs of PTSD he would have been the most adapt at noticing in the room. No, instead Klaus looked past poor Elliot’s head, towards a blinking static screen that kept flashing blue and black on a nearby desk, left abandoned underneath the shutter shots of the rest of them by Five.

‘Hello there, what might you be?’

Leaving the rest of them, he fumbled with the buttons on the old TV, trying to shake it out of his head how eerily familiar this seemed to dear old dad’s surveillance system. Hitting any button he can find in vain, he throws his blunt out of his mouth and flicks it across the room, slamming the control panel with the fist of his palm, until his pointer finger somehow managed to falter and hit play on the tape left inside.

Never before had Klaus noticed how much time is like water, that it can drip by in front of his eyes so slowly, or even freeze with each new frame. The past few minutes had passed by as if he had watched a thousand frames per second, too slow to be normal, so unusual. He turns to try and point to his siblings, but his jaw is still so slack and he finds he can’t move his fingers properly. Shock, that’s what they call it, shock, he thinks to himself, fighting to get his words out so they don’t trail out.

There is a sadness in his eyes, the glass green too glossy when he finally turns to his siblings and manages only to feebly point at the screen.

For the first time, since his mouth had been wired shut as a teenager, Klaus was at a loss of words.

This grabbed the attention of his siblings, who crowded over to join him and peer intently at the screen - all except foe Diego, who stayed hovering at the edge of the group.

The screen lights up again, showing an empty room, one without proper handles, only sheets of smooth metal as makeshift windows for staff to peer through. There’s no bed, no mattress on the cold floor, just emptiness, isolation, silence, for the man who sits in the centre of the floor in pure white. They recognise from the shaggy hair and the wild beard that it’s there brother almost immediately.

'You were in an Asylum? What for?’, Vanya asks.

‘For trying to save the President’, Diego manages to mutter, unable to look any of them in the eye. ‘For doing what needed to be done.’

He’s interrupted by himself, the small version of him on the tape muttering to himself, rocking back and forth. ‘I am not enough, I can’t do it, I’m not good enough. You’ll never be number one, never.’

The door swings open then. In his intense silence, Diego somehow screamed with his whole body. The eyes wide with horror, the mouth rigid and open, his chalky face gaunt and immobile as the doctor approached him with the needle.

‘Please! Not the needle!’, he begs and cries. ‘Please!’

Luther’s the first to turn round and look at his brother. The first to finally look, to finally see him, how defeated he looks, for the first time since they all landed in that alleyway. It's the look that he gives Diego. Those pale blue eyes, probing into his soul, desperately wanting to see what's going on in there. That look, it just tore Diego apart, piece by piece, and although it wasn’t his fault, he found himself deeply unsettled, deeply angry at him, at all of them, so suddenly.

‘W-w-what? What are you looking at a-a-ss-’

An invisible hand clasps over his mouth and stops his words from escaping, an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline piercing his heart, making it contort and expand until it feels just about ready to burst. His ribs heave uneasily, and Allison’s afraid he’s about to pass out, Klaus rushing forward, biting his lips. Diego only wants to run, but needs to freeze. All he can do, instead, is fall to his knees, and allow four pairs of hands to catch him before his face hits the floor.

A single tear slides down from his warm, butterscotch eyes, followed by another one, and another one, until soon, a steady stream of salty tears flowed it's way down his cheek, releasing the sadness and sorrow that has been held inside of him for all this time but still he did not make a sound. His siblings made the noise for him, warm, comforting little nothings, telling him it was going to be okay, he didn’t have to go back, they were going to do it, save the world. Save themselves.

The hand appeared from nowhere and tightened on his wrist, white knuckled, strong, until Luther had pulled him against his chest, and the others had gently fallen to their knees too and placed their arms around his back as best as they could. Klaus was half leaning over Allison’s leg, and Vanya in turn was completely squished, face first, against his chest, but somehow they made it work.

There is the hug of gentle arms that still gives you the space to breathe, like the ones Grace used to give Diego after a mission. Shutting his eyes, he realises he isn’t used to this type, the kind of hug with strong arms that tells everything that your are - body, brain and soul - that they are with you.

They stay like that for a while, the five - well, the six of them, as Ben places his arms around his siblings as well, even if they can’t feel him. The six of them, battered, afraid, neglected, and yet, not alone. They huddle there together, embracing each other and crying and just allowing themselves to be open, to be vulnerable with each other, to realise their dad wasn’t there and they didn’t have to go through this alone anymore.

Tears were wiped and sobbing laughs were shared, and even Five, when he blipped back into the room, saw the set of his siblings hugging on the floor and felt a pang of loneliness and love for his crazy family ring out in his heart that he joined them, if only for a second.

From then they weren’t numbers anymore. They weren’t even siblings. They were more, Diego said with a smile. They were Team Zero.

#tua #tua season 2 #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #the umbrella academy #tua imagine #klaus hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves imagine #allison hargreeves imagine #ben hargreeves imagine #luther hargreeves imagine #vanya hargreeves imagine

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calibancangetit · 5 years

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What if a witch did the spell to call a familiar (the one used by Sabrina in season 1) but messes up and ends up linked to Caliban? Could that be a good request? I really like your writing btw 💖

This is such a brilliant request! I’m sorry it’s kind of short, but I thought it was kinda cute. I hope I did it justice, and thank you I really appreciate it! 😖💕

The Familiar’s Fury (Caliban Imagine)

Fear clouded your mind, and the farther you walked into the forest the more scared you became. Sabrina assures you that this was the best way to find a familiar, but something told you that it was probably better to get one off that catalog Aunt Zelda told you about. You knew Sabrina meant well, but ever since the pagans were destroyed and her second self took over Hell, she’s been having a very lassez-faire attitude about the world.

“Why does everything always turn out so well for her?” You mumbled as you kicked some stray rocks in your path.

You loved Sabrina. She was so kind to you when her family took you in a couple months after Sabrina’s first failed attempt to sign her name in the Book of the Beasts. You were a long lost cousin of sorts to the Spellmens, and they did everything they could to make you feel like a true Spellmen, including being a witch. However, you were certain Sabrina’s ways of the dark arts would only lead to a worse path for you.

A cold breeze blew through the trees, creating a worse mood throughout the forest. You pulled your cardigan closer to you and immediately regretted not wearing warmer clothing.

“Let’s just get this over with.” You groaned as you began the ritual.

You tried to remember every detail you could from Sabrina’s instructions. You were sure you did it right, but when you finished absolutely nothing happened. You pouted when the silence of the forest answered the question you were thinking.

“It didn’t work.”

You shrugged your shoulders before grabbing your bag that you put down before the ritual. You adjusted the things inside before spinning on your heel to head home. However, your face was met with a broad chest.

You looked up and saw a pair of green eyes and a beautiful smile facing you.

“Well, if I knew a woman as beautiful as you was going to be the one to take me out of that rock, I would have dressed better.”

You screamed as you pushed him from you; the force of your push had him stumbling backwards for a second, but he recovered swiftly. Your eyes went wide as you were completely dumbfounded by the whole ordeal.

“W-who the hell are you?” You asked as you reached into your bag for some kind of weapon.

Unfortunately, you only had a small, dull pocket knife. You raised it up and aimed it at him with as much confidence as you could muster. The man only eyed the knife before waving his hand causing it to fly from your hands. Your chest heaved as you tried to make a run for the knife once more, but the man had already grabbed you by your arm. You pulled against him, but he just tightened his grip on your wrist.

“I don’t usually illicit such a response from a woman like this; well, except one.” He mumbled but you only continued to stare at him in horror.

“W-What do you want?”

He smiled at your question before slowly releasing your arm. You rubbed your sore wrist before frowning at him and patting your clothes off.

“You summoned me here and out of my imprisonment. I just wanted to thank you is all.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly as you held onto the strap of your bag, “Oh, well, you’re welcome. Was that all?”

His face dropped suddenly and you felt very uncomfortable under his gaze, “Well, I guess so then. I guess I’ll be off,”

A circle of fire surrounded him as he disappeared into thin air. Your fingers played over the skin he touch, and you swore you felt like he was still touching you.”

You shook your head when suddenly a spark of fire started in front of you. As it died out the man from earlier fell to the floor in front of you.

“What the-” he whispered as he took a look around his surroundings. His eyes landed on you and he quickly scrambled up to his feet before pointing a finger at you.

“Look I get it. It was fun the first time, but quit summoning me. Don’t you think once was enough?”

You scoffed as you face contorted into one of disbelief, “I didn’t summon you at all. I was summoning a familiar. I don’t even know who you are,”

“Caliban. Prince of Hell. Ring a bell?”

“How could you be prince of Hell, while Sabrina is queen?”

Rage filled his eyes as he stomped over to you as backed you up to a tree.

“You know, Sabrina! How the hell do you know her? I never saw you with her when she was fighting for the crown!” He interrogated.

A rush of confidence hit you at the mention of your cousin’s name. “Let’s just say I was doing some soul searching during that time, asshole!”

You pushed him off of you before making a run for it. You heard his footsteps chase after you, and just before you saw the treeline, you were tackled to the ground.

“Get off!”

“Would you shut up! Someone’s here!” Caliban hushed you.

Your voice went quiet when he saw who he was talking about. Four men creeped through the forest as they snickered to themselves.

“I know I saw her. She was a witch, doing some kind of spell. She was chanting. We can’t have any witches here.” One of them explained as he held his rifle tighter.

Caliban moved off of you before casting a glamour to hide you both from the men. You hid yourself as far against the ground as you could.

“Witch hunters.” Caliban whispered.

You nodded as you watched the men leave further into the forest. As soon as they were out of earshot, Caliban took off the glamour. You let out a deep breath before thanking him shyly. He kneeled beside your laying form before chuckling.

“Don’t worry about it.”

You kneeled and brushed off the dirt and leaves that clinged to your clothing. Caliban stood up and lent a hand to help you up.

“Why did you help me?” You asked as he handed you your bag that fell.

“It would seem that I am now obligated to help you.”

You furrowed your eyebrows before asking him to explain further. He sighed and showed you his arm that had your name scrawled across his wrist. Your fingers traced your name on his skin before staring up at him amazed. You didn’t notice the way Caliban’s breath hitched at the way your fingers danced across his skin, or the way you he couldn’t stop staring into your eyes. He quickly shook himself out of it and recovered smoothly.

“Well, (Y/N), it would seem that I am your familiar,” he said with a smug smirk.

“Shit. I’m gonna kill Sabrina.”

—

Taglist

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felswritingfire · 4 years

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Hey, everyone!

Have some housamo dad hcs that no one asked for! This guys kind of a monster (7978 big) so it goes under the read more. I just,,,, I really like domestic parent hcs ajlskfjlksdj

I kept the kids older years vague and just kept to biological gender because I didn’t want to complicate anything, if that makes sense, just give a little personality to the kiddo/kiddos but mostly focus on the dads, you know? Anyway Enjoy!

(Also so much thanks to @summonerscenarios for helping me with some of these and reading the beta, much love!!)

(Reader is gender neutral btw)

Arsalan

OIL DAD- OIL DAD-

He’d probs have one and then ask for two more- a weird lion thing you know? So, under the assumption that you’re A) down to give birth to three or B) end up adopting three kiddos, he’d most likely end up with two girls (both a year apart from each other) and a boy (who’s three years younger than the middle girl, making him the youngest and gentlest out of his sisters)

He honestly has a bit of a “Oh shit” moment when you guys gain a kid by either a series of events or you getting pregnant, he’s lowkey freaking out

He’s never had a kid before, I mean, sure, he’s been a role model to young people for a long time, but it’s not like he’s had to raise them from when they were in diapers; and honestly, he has this vague wondering if he’s even too old to be a dad- but then she looks into his eyes and it’s like all his worries wash away and then he’s thinking out loud: “if one can do this to me, Y/N, what do you think five more would do?”

You’ve never seen him so happy and you’re almost sad when you have to shut him down. Almost. “We’re not having six children, Arsalan.”

“Ok, what about two more then?” “Arsalan.”

Jokes on you, Y/N, you have two more.

He’s super involved with all of the babies, like, there isn’t a time where Arsalan isn’t seen with them when they’re babies, since the girls are older than their brother, they were with their papa while he was with their baby brother- btw, despite them being four and three respectively, they still loved him to death- and there wasn’t a time when he wasn’t holding or touching them when they were babies

OH! He doesn’t wear any oil when he’s holding them! Since he almost shit a brick one of the times he was holding your oldest girl because he almost dropped her. His hands were so fucking oily because he just finished a riviting round of ✨Turkish Oil Wrestling✨, that he ended up flailing with her like a melted stick of butter in his hands until he managed to get her into the crook of his arm (she was giggling the entire time). Never again. He learned his lesson the first (and last) time.

Btw, you weren’t there for that, but if he ever looks at you with guilty eyes you know why

He hates diaper duty with a passion and will vehemently try to get out of it. Though, he’ll do it if you really can’t and he’ll silently accept his fate, even the girls will steer clear when he has to change their brother’s diaper. A lonely soldier left to his fate

He baby talks to them when they’re babies, like, straight up, every one of the kids gets baby talked

No and’s, if’s, or but’s. They get the baby talk

The girls help you guys out a lot with their little brother, or at least they try their best and that’s all that matters. It’s actually really heartwarming??? They’re so attached to this little bundle in your arms, they love him so much

The two girls weren’t fussy babies, but they were very curious, and they kept that curiosity for their entire lives, so they would get into a lot of things that would cause you and Arslan to panic, while their brother was a little angel, he was very quiet and he rarely cried. Though, he didn’t like when you or Arsalan were away for too long, this was a problem for when you guys needed a babysitter for them, not with the girls though, oh no, they love everyone in the Aoyama Guild, especially Maria and Gabriel (the middle one might have a crush on her, but who knows 💅💅). But your guys’ little boy is a whole other story. He’ll start crying and none of them can calm him down, their only saving grace is surprisingly Nyarl. Which Arsalan dislikes with an immense passion

He’s so afraid Nyal’s going to feed his kids to some eldritch horror or teach them bad habits- *GASP* WHAT HAPPENS IF HE TEACHES HIS LITTLE BOY HOW TO SAY FUCK??? OH NO-

He has entrusted the girls with keeping Nyarl in check and the hyena actually listens to them (of course Maria or Zab is there to keep him in check too, they just don’t let the girls know that they’re actually the ones giving Nyarl The Look behind them)

When they’re toddlers, Arsalan starts teaching them strategy and starts wrestling with them so that they can know how to defend themselves with different fighting techniques

You know that thing that papa lions do where they’ll feign getting hurt when their cubs bite them to build their confidence??? Yeah, he does that with the little ones. The girls are all proud of themselves each time they manage to “beat” their papa, but your little boy is devastated the first time it happened because he thought he actually hurt Papa Arsalan and he started crying and was too afraid to touch anyone for a good two days before Arsalan managed to convince him that he was perfectly fine and the way for him not to hurt someone is to embrace his strength and learn how to use it for good! Luckly, your little boy accepts the answer and goes over and gives his papa a big hug and Arsalan gives him a big ol’ kiss on the forehead

You still have the video- it’s cute- you’re never getting rid of it

Arsalan definitely takes them to the guild and everyone LOVES THEM

The girls get along best with the angels, the more aggressive ones specifically while your little boy gets along best with the healers of the guild; they listen to all of the stories that anyone is willing to share with them and they LIVE FOR THEM

They all swear up and down that they’re gonna join the Aoyama guild when they get older and protect their dad and Arsalan tears up

They MEET (officially) ZABANIYYA AND YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN MORE STARSTRUCK CHILDREN IN YOU LIFE (He met them when they were babies, but he was always too busy to actually swing by and say hello to the little ones frequently)

They think he’s so cool and he feels a little awkward around them, but he’s accepted his fate as Uncle Zab

By the time they hit their tween years, Arsalan is more in his element, he’s an amazing listener, and coupled with the fact that his advice is some A++ shit, his kids feel at ease telling him their woes. Also he’s always open with his affection so if they need a hug, he’s there for that too!

The girls, at this time, are much more similar to Arsalan, their brother on the other hand is very shy, so they take it upon themselves to act as “bodyguards” for their little brother

Your guys’ kids in general are pretty independent, so they’re pretty self aware of themselves; Arsalan made sure of that, especially since he was in the mindset of “making capable kings and queens”- he was a king after all

The girls would go into sports, something like volleyball or softball, while your boy would take up a lot of writing/medical classes in high- if he has the opportunity, he’d probably go into a philosophy class

Your guys’ oldest girl has a bit of a problem with butting heads with people, she’s opinionated and backs them up with facts, she knows what she believes in and will defend it, so she’ll get into the occasional fight

Your middle girl is your social butterfly and gets along with everybody; she’s super sweet, but she has a temper and strong sense of justice which gets her into trouble every now and then

They both team up to take care of their little brother, it’s actually really cute to watch them

Your boy is the peace keeper of the group; he’s very passive and fights with his words rather than his fists, but he really wants to go into the medical field

HAVE FUN DEALING WITH THE FACT THAT THEY ALL GET INTO SHIT LIKE THEIR DAD. You and Arsalan had to go and convince the Tycoons not to hang your oldest by her toes because she punched Ophion straight in the jaw and suplexed Lucifuge (Hakuman was having an amazing time- the other two were not)

When they graduate, Arsalan doesn’t cry, but it’s still super evident that he’s proud of his kids, each one gets a huge ass bear (lion) hug that squeezes the breath out of them

He may be a little shocked at first, but he takes it in stride like everything else in his life; he marvels at the way that your guys’ kiddos grow up so fast. Honestly, having a family was one of the best experiences of his life.

Ifrit

I like to imagine that Ifirt would end up with more than one kid with you, being that if you can actually have a baby/babies or if you guys adopt, he’ll want one right after the other, but only if you’re comfortable with that.

We’re going with the route that you’re comfy with having/adopting at least two children:

He’d probs end up having two little boys that are two years apart.

When you guys bring home your first little boy, Ifrit is a mess of tears and snot and he gives you the wettest and biggest smooch he possibly can on your lips. He’s always wanted a big family (but he was afraid he would never be able to really start one because of his debt until you came along and, thanks to your more skeptical nature and eye for seeing through scams, he finally got financially stable!) and now it’s the start of one and he’s so excited!

SPOILER ALERT, HIS KIDS ARE EXACTLY LIKE HIM.

They are rambunctious little babies and are loud just like their father; I’m so sorry.

Speaking of loud- Ifrit does not help with the volume- if anything, he amplifies them; riling up the boys when he plays with them.

When he does play with the boys, he’s super soft about it with them. He’ll go down easily for them and play dead when they play any sort of game that includes a big scary monster.

The first time he did play dead, his boys started crying and then he started crying after he couldn’t get them to calm down because he was overwhelmed with so much emotion for accidentally making his kids cry- you walked in on the three of them, with groceries lining your arms, cuddled up together on the floor crying their hearts out.

IFRIT DRESSES UP HIS BABIES IN MATCHING OUTFITS TO HIM-THEY’RE LITTLE ROCKSTAR BABIES

IT’S SOFT SHIT

YOUR EYES? BLESSED

YOUR HEART? STOLEN

IFRIT? BEST DAD

UM, HAVE YOU EVER REALIZED THAT IFRIT HAS A TAIL???? (because I sure as hell didn’t, but no surprise there I’m blind-) YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS:

BABIES KOALA CLINGING TO HIS TAIL

LIKE, CAN YOU IMAGINE THEM JUST HOLDING ON WHILE HE TIDIES UP THE HOUSE WHILE THEY’RE GIGGLING AND TEETHING ON THE SPIKES OF HIS TAIL????

He was a tad nervous when they first started doing this because he realized that he’s a pretty loud and expressive person, so he didn’t want to accidentally knock one of the boys off when he was super excited or he got angry; after you assured him that he was in fact, not going to hurt the boys, he started letting them cling to his tail. And, hey, you were right. He has never once knocked the boys off since, despite his excitable nature, his tail keeps relatively still when he feels the boys on there

Speaking of tails, if any of the boys ends up having tails or horns or fangs like him (especially if they’re biologically his and they get hit with all three), he’ll have you guys invest in a lot of… chew toys for dogs and scratching posts for cats

“Why are we getting dog toys for our kid again, Ifrit?” “One fucking word, babe, growing pains” “That’s two words-” “YOU GET WHAT I MEAN.”

Um, I’m so sorry if you wanted your kid’s first words to be “mama/papa/nano” (I read on reddit that’s a gender neutral term for parent, but like, real talk, if you have any other ones, just hit me up and tell me! I love learning new stuff in the LGBTQ+ community!) you ain’t gonna get it chief. It’s gonna be a cuss word because, let’s be frank Ifrit’s got a potty mouth from Hell (me too, man) and it isn’t going away anytime soon

So your kids are most likely gonna be cussing like sailors by the time they get into middle school/high school

Ifrit is a pretty great multitasker in general, the other bonus is that he’s not afraid to change diapers, so when the boys were babies he was always ready to go when you needed a break

Just let him slap a clothing pin or shove a couple tissues up his nose and he is ready to go, babe

The kids usually cling to him, though, I feel the younger of the two would cling to you more so than Papa Ifrit, while the older one is attached to Ifrit: he copies everything that Ifrit does and is basically a carbon copy of him personality wise

It was kinda hard to convince them to let you guys go out for date night, but they’re super attached to Ebisu and Fenrir, and then Auntie Benten comes and tuckers them out since she has the same amount of energy as the little balls of chaos. So you guys usually call on them to come and watch the babies; once in a while Ahab and Aegir will join and the boys L O V E THEM (you two are honestly a little jealous tbh)

Ebisu is in charge though. Ebisu is always in charge

He’s a little lost in the tween years, but he figures it out pretty fast, luckily, your kids are pretty easy going and simple minded like Ifrit, albeit more aware of their surroundings since you beat it into their heads since you and Ifrit wanted to avoid some punks taking advantage of your kiddos, so they’re pretty straightforward in their thinking- though, your older boy has a hard time handling his emotions, while the younger boy has a hard time expressing his emotions, so you both have to take your time with them and talk it through with them and see how they’re feeling and to understand their problems. Which really isn’t that big of a problem for Ifrit, he’s a good listener and it’s easy for the boys to express themselves around him because, hey, he gets it. He usually let’s his anger control his decision so, he gets it, man

ONE THING THAT HAS ALWAYS CALMED HIS KIDS DOWN IS IFRIT’S FIRE TRICKS AND THIS STICKS WITH THEM THROUGHOUT THEIR LIVES

THEY LIVE FOR THAT SHIT

One thing that Ifrit never taught them, and you don’t know where they got it from, if they have horns, they’ll headbutt each other

This has lead to Ifrit, more than once, having to come and untangle their horns, due to the fact that he’s the only one who knows how horns work, because they got locked together, especially if they have Ifrit’s horns (also thank you Juno for giving me this headcanon, I love you-)

If you two ever hear frustrated yelling, you know exactly what’s happening and Ifrit sighs as he gets up while yelling, “again?”

Teenage years are actually quite chill, the boys don’t really go through that phase where nothing feels right or they’re embarrassed of their parents- they’re comfy in their skin and Ifrit and you provide a solid and understanding home for them, so they actually have the tendency to brag about you guys to other people- especially your oldest

What does cause a lot of problems, even when they were little, is fighting

The boys tend to throw themselves head first into fights because A) they have their papa’s temper and B) they can’t stand bullies

So they kinda act as the designated “Protectors of the Weak” if you will and usually it doesn’t end in a fight, their sheer volume and confidence usually makes people back off pretty quick, and if they’re biologically Ifrit’s, then, like, they also have the height and build along with them- or if they were adopted and they had big ass parents, it goes either way

But when they get into a fight- they throw down H A R D. T O G E T H E R

So, once in a while you two get calls to come and pick up the boys, since they got into another skirmish again with that Billy kid-

Honestly, the first time it happened, Ifrit was pissed because, what the fuck you two? And then he got their side of the story (because of course he would, he’s a GOOD DAD) and he was like, “WELL, FUCK, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE MAD NOW??” So instead, he goes and gets them ice cream every time they get into a fight because he knows your boys would never start a fight unless absolutely necessary. Also they beat up a bunch of bullies HOW THE FUCK IS HE NOT PROUD? HE RAISED THEM RIGHT

This might be one of the only serious arguments you ever have if you’re against the boys fighting at all (but like, I wouldn’t, they beat up bullies. FUCK BULLIES)

When your sons graduate from High school, Ifrit will cry at each of their ceremonies. Full blown sobbing- he’s so proud of his boys and he’s so ready to see what they make of themselves.

Ifrit dad rating: 10/10, he’s amazing, please let him be a dad; he’s really matured from his younger days, especially now that he has kids. Being in a family with you has really made his life complete

Ophion

Ophion, to no one’s surprise, has a lot of experience under his belt. At least we would presume, but plot twist: this dragon is used to dealing with older creations rather than little baby ones. Not to say he doesn’t have any experience with babies, he’s just… used to his kids being independent on their own. It’s a luxury when you got an egg that pops out Wyvern children who are fully developed left and right

He is totally down for babies tho, please, he actually really likes kids a lot and, when he was the older version of himself, he’d try to covertly play with them out in public if he’s with the Tycoons for whatever reason (they knew. They fucking knew what he did, none of them told him jack shit because Hakuman does the same exact thing and Lucifuge thinks his buddy is adorable when he plays with the babies, so like shit he’s gonna say anything. And Licht holds onto this as blackmail, just in case Ophion decides to really piss him off), younger Ophion gives zero shits about playing with babies in front of the Tycoons. He loves hearing babies laugh, so he’ll make some cool ass light tricks and babies and toddlers alike are in awe

Also, he has this tendency to try to give kids life advice and teach them philosophy that their little heads just do not comprehend, but they think he’s the coolest thing to ever exist so they just nod along and pretend they understand (he knows they don’t he just thinks they’re adorable

He’d try to convince you to have a horde of children; it’s up to you to talk him down because, holy shit, Ophion we are not repopulating a planet. That’s a lot of kids to take care of-

You manage to talk him down to having two and seeing how it goes from there

Plot twist y’all end up with four children: split even boys and girls

Ok, so, I apologize but I’m gonna be drifting away from the gender neutral territory for a hot minute because, like, Juno pointed this out:

Giving birth to Ophion’s baby would be a nightmare: Ophion is a big dude, if I remember right he’s 6’10”, that’s huge if you didn’t know, can you imagine how big that baby is gonna be inside of you???? And the other thing- if they have any draconic characteristics then, like, have fun pushing out a baby with wings, my dude. So it’s either: pray that the little guy is baby baby sized or C-Section

Which is fine- you have options, so that works out great! Double bonus, you never have to worry about medical bills because Ophion is fucking LOADED; TRIPLE BONUS, SINCE OPHION IS LOADED YOU WOULD BE PAMPARED HALF TO DEATH AFTER THE ENTIRE DEBACLE

SPEAKING OF LOADED, your babies have all of the best shit ever since they were born into a rich family.

I’m talking about gucci onesies all the plushies they can imagine

Now, you might be thinking: shit. That means I have to be the tough parent.

Not necessarily

Ophion is particular about how he wants his kids to be raised up: he wants them to be smart and aware, not spoiled and useless. He honestly expects some sort of perfection out of them since, you know, the whole mindset of: well, they’re my children. Of course they have to be perfect

Which, no, bad Ophion. We don’t hold our children to unrealistic standards in this house, it’s up to you to knock him off his high horse. The good part is that he’ll listen to you and actually reflect on his expectations for his kids, he’ll even work on taking said expectations down a couple of notches which is great.

You’ll probs still have to remind him once in a while, but he’s pretty good at chilling the fuck out when he needs to

Your kids go in the order of girl, boy, girl, boy; all of them a year or two apart, because of course

The first baby was a very rambunctious baby and Ophion threatened to chuck her out the window more than once- IN THE MOST LOVING WAY HE POSSIBLY COULD, I SWEAR- when she’d wake up crying in the middle of the night, because then he’d come and get her and she’d immediately start giggling and trying to grab his finger

He could never stay mad her and he’d end up staying up and rocking her until she fell back asleep

The crib was barely used for your guys’ second and third baby- they were both easy babies for the most part, only really making a peep when they were away from one of you. Your boy was quite attached to you while the second girl was attached to Ophion; but your oldest girl and boy’s rooms weren’t really used until they each turned five respectively because they’d just climb into bed with you guys and set their younger sibling in between them- these were some of Ophion’s favorite moments tbh. It was so soft and gentle, it soothes his soul when he thinks about it

Your youngest was another rambunctious baby, not in the sense that he cried a lot, but in the sense that he was very… He had a knack for getting into things that shouldn’t have been possible

Like, you, Ophion, and your eldest daughter almost shit when you found your baby boy on top of the counter; no one put him there- you set him down for two minutes- but there he was, giggling as he crawled all over the polished countertops

Also, PS: each of the babies has their own designated “nanny Wyvern” that takes care of them, but they’re more like, just huge ass guard dogs because they’ll try to make the babies a bottle of milk and it just… it does not work out so well, because sharp claws and microwaves don’t mix as you’ve come to learn

All the wyvern’s love your kids to death tho, they’d die for them. Nobody touches the babies unless they want to get fucking mauled to death by a thousand basically siblings

Each of the babies has gone with him on business meetings with the Tycoons, not that he was very thrilled- Ophion is quite the possessive dragon when it comes to his family- but you needed the load off, especially when you guys have four kids running around? Yeah. He isn’t gonna let you deal with that responsibility alone.

So he brings them and the Tycoons were a little hesitant about the kids at first because, I mean, they’re Ophion’s kids, they have to be prideful little shits right?

Lucky for them, you keep what Ophion rubs off on his kids in check- especially the pride shit

So, turns out, that your kids are really sweet, maybe a little too confident, but sweet to everyone, and, surprisingly, Ophion’s kinda stickler for manners so they know how to behave themselves

BUT HOLY SHIT DO THEY LOVE GYUMAO????

YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY OR HOW- BUT THE KIDS ARE LIKE???? COW MAN IS BEST MAN

Ophion is lowkey pissed about it because those are his babies, fuck you, Gyumao

But you’re jumping for joy because um? Babysitter who is legit big enough to handle all of the kiddos in one room???? YES PLEASE

The second oldest really likes Lucifuge and will ask if he can comb his hair and Luci always says yes and convinces the kids to call him Uncle Luci; Ophion also hates this

Hakumen is honorary Auntie, they love her to death, especially the two youngest ones, and she likes to spoil them to piss of Ophion

The youngest really likes Licht and Melusine (all the kids are in agreement that Mel is super pretty and the oldest always asks her if she can hold her tail)

When your kids become toddlers, they’re all curious little things and like to hang around Papa and watch what he’s doing

They’ll try to mimic him, so you’ve walked into a room and witnessed Ophion standing there looking over Tokyo majestically with a wine glass in his hand and all four of your kiddos lined up next to him trying to mimic him, all with their own respective juice cups (youngest to oldest, all trying to look like their papa??? It’s some soft shit and I will forever love Juno for adding and making this scene even cuter)

IF- IF HIS KIDS HAVE WINGS- WATCHING HIM TEACH THEM HOW TO FLY IS THE MOST WHOLESOME THING?????

He’s got a surprising amount of patience with them, so if they're scared to jump off the top of the couch, he’ll reassure them that he’s there and he would never, ever let them fall- and when they do jump? He catches them and praises them for being so brave and it’s just- *cries*

He’ll also take them out on flies so they can get used to the feeling of the wind on their faces and under their wings; they all get super excited if he does a cool twist in the air with them or something like that

The wyverns are usually out and about with them too, so they get two comfort buddies for the price of one fly!

Like with Ifrit, this dude has a tail, so the kiddos will grab onto it, and if they have tails, they’ll make a train of them holding onto each other’s tails as Ophion walks around the house or the Tower- everyone almost dies, because???? That shit cute.

You have so many photos of them doing this

Once your youngest girl fell asleep on his tail while he walked around and you almost died

When they hit their tween years, since they are confident kiddos, especially your two eldest, they have a tendency to push back with Ophion. And Ophion really doesn’t mind?

He views it as them developing a true identity for themselves, but if they ever cross a line, pray for the kiddos, because he will put the fear of a god in them. He’s very scary angry

It’s even scarier because he doesn’t lift a finger, it’s just a look. A hard, narrowed, disappointed look. It shuts them up real fast

They don’t fight with you though. They’d never fight with you lmao they love you too much

Your two youngest are relatively easy because they don’t have as dominating personalities as their big sister and brother do. So they’ll still stick close to Ophion and listen to what he has to say

You’re eldest ones have an easier time talking to you about their problems while the little ones go to their papa

Though from time to time they’ll talk to the Wyvern that they grew up closest to and rant to them, all the while said Wyvern is squawking and cooing at them in understanding

In their teenage years, they’ve been humbled a bit by their experiences, so they’re not as.... Over the top. They’re still dramatic tho

Honestly, they’d probs all go into theater. AND THEY’D BE INCREDIBLY GOOD AT IT

And Ophion would obviously brag about this because of course his offspring are amazing at anything they do

Your oldest girl is probably going to play a sport, probably swimming unless she has wings then she’d most likely play something like Lacrosse; you’re eldest boy would probably really into fashion because of Lucifuge so he’d take any fashion classes he could get his hands on; your youngest girl would be into business, courtesy of Auntie Haku and Uncle GyuGyu; and your youngest would most likely stick to theater and the arts; he fell in love with acting and I have this hc that Ophion is really into art in his spare time (especially since, hello- Old Greek God, where do you think they learned it from???) so he runs with the talent he has and just floors it

They all end up kinda, lowkey, running the school, their personalities just cause them to be natural leaders

When they finally graduate highschool, Ophion, if they can’t fly, will take them in his arms after the ceremony and they’ll fly around Tokyo just talking about everything and anything; if they can fly they’re doing the same thing, just instead they’re both doing kick ass tricks in the air! Either way, Ophion is proud and there’s the Wyvern they were closest to crying and nuzzling them because their basically little sib is all grown up

Ophion would kill for a big family with you and he’s such a good papa??? He’s naturally a good dad, it’s a little freaky- but he has so much fun raising this family. He holds all the memories he’s had with you and them close to his heart

Tadatomo

Tadatomo and you would probably have one baby in general, a little girl who’s very bubbly- though if you wanted a bigger family, Tada isn’t opposed to the idea

I feel like with Tada the baby, if you have the ability to have children- Hell, even if you don’t have the ability to have a child- you two still probably end up with having a surprise kiddo: they probably wind up being placed in front of your guys’ door by some random person-

Long story short, he freaks out

He definitely doesn’t know how to take care of a baby- he can barely take care of himself- Y/N, what does he do? Please-

It takes a lot of google searching, Youtube videos and phone calls to get Tada to calm down about the baby

After he gathers his bearings, he actually steps up to the plate pretty easily

Except for diapers, I’m so sorry, but you’re on your own for diapers. He’ll get you the stuff and everything, but, he just,,, He can not handle the smell

You guys don’t ever get a crib, if anything someone else gets you said crib (probably Mori) but you guys never use it because Tada places the baby between the both of you when you two go to sleep and, since he’s such a light sleeper, he’s usually the one to tell when she needs something before she even makes a peep

Not that I think she makes a lot of noise in the first place aside for her laughing- she’s just a happy and easy baby in general

Btw, Tada totally shed a tear when she laughed for the first time, he’ll never admit it but she gives him so much L I F E

He lets her play with his ears/tail, doesn’t matter if she pulls on them (which she doesn’t, she’s a gentle baby) no matter what time or place. He could be threatening someone with a knife and she’d be playing with his ears and everyone is like????? That’s kinda cute????

He binge watches Naruto with his baby despite them not knowing what the fuck is going on and even gets them an Uchiha onsie because obviously Sasuke and Itachi are the bast characters in Naruto and no, he doesn’t take constructive criticism, thank you very much

He probably tries to convince you to name her after Tsunade, it’s up to you if

you’re willing to go with it

(you’re kid probs has a hardcore anime phase in middles school and Tada and Shino NEVER LET HER LIVE IT DOWN)

For someone who was terrified of babies at first, he takes baby proofing the house/apartement very seriously; you’ll honestly have to stop him- he’s going crazy:

“Tada, for the last time, you don’t need to sand down the corners of the wall.” “But what if she runs into it?” “Tadatomo Inuyama, if you don’t put down that sander, I will have your head.”

You’ll sometimes wake up in the middle of the night just to find your baby isn’t there, it almost gave you a heart attack the first time because, I mean, HOLY SHIT WHERE’S YOUR BABY???

But when you look over and see Tada resting with her by the window and humming/singing her a little lullaby- your heart has never been more ready to burst in your life

Moritaka and Shino are the main babysitters, she absolutely adores Mori to death and Tada feels a sense of betrayal everytime she clings to him

Moritaka has so many mixed emotions about it because on one hand: !!! My favorite basically niece! But on the other hand, Tadatomo has been glaring at the back of his head for the past 30 minutes, please, help him-

Shino also spoils her a teeny bit and Mori and Tada will stare at him with wide eyes, like, “dad, WHERE’S MY HUG???”

He starts her training early, because you know he wants his little girl to be able to take care of herself if he isn’t there to protect her, which, that’s not gonna happen, Tada will kill an entire city, don’t test him (also Mori and Shino and you’ll be there and like, nobody wants to open that can of fucking worms)

She’s clumsy at first, but she’s a really fast learner and he cannot be more proud when she starts to pick up stuff, he almost starts crying but, again, denies it if you try to bring it up

If she ends up having fangs of any kind, he will, like Ifrit, invest in chew toys as well, because have you seen puppies when they teeth??? It’s chaos, you will lose so much furniture that way, let me tell you

She develops a really good sense of balance, so it’s a fight to get her to stop breaking into the snack cupboard when she wants a treat; she’ll give it up without a fight, but she will break in again if you don’t watch it

She’s a pretty big ball of sunshine so she makes a lot of friends and invites them over; they all think Tada’s super scary because he’s glowering at them, if you tell them that that’s just how his face is, he’ll be mildly offended, but then you also throw in the fact that he’s a super cool ninja and then the kids are all over the poor transient

He’s in heaven, but he won’t tell you that. Your guys’ daughter is all too happy to tell you guys all about how people think she has the coolest parents in school

Despite him teaching her how to fight, he’s a bit of a helicopter parent, especially when her tween/teenage years roll around

She’s a pretty easy kid in her tween years too, though Tada has a heart attack when puberty hits her and Aunt Ruby comes a knocking and he calls up Shino of all people to explain it to her, which he does, you’re honestly a little shocked when you get home and you see Shino with a whole powerpoint slide explaining in excruciating detail what a period is to your horrified daughter and your, as equally horrified, husband

He gets her everything she needs or asks you to get it if he can’t BECAUSE YOU GUYS ARE GOOD PARENTS

Tadatomo isn’t the best with emotions so he’s shit with advice, but he’s a really good listener. So, sometimes your kid will just info dump to him about everything that’s bothering her

When she starts getting into the dating scene Tada HATES IT

He’s always glowering at the partner she brought home because he already hates them, he wants them to go away. She’s his little Shinobi- DON’T TOUCH HIS LITTLE SHINOBI-

You have to be the one to calm him down tbh because he will kill a child with zero hesitation

Her teenage years are also pretty easy, she’s a rather laid back and optimistic kid and she has a solid relationship with both you and her papa so she doesn’t really have a lot of negative emotions inside of her

And if she ever gets angry or anything, you know Tada installed a gym in your guys’ home, so she’ll punch the punching bag or work out her emotions

Tada will join her if she’s feeling up for it

She’s most likely into sports and Tada and you go to all of her games; Tada cheers the loudest but he will DENY IT

When she graduates from high school, Tada will openly cry. He’s super proud of his little girl and she’s a step closer to being an adult, she most likely got a scholarship for whatever sport she was most excited for and a dozen other little scholarships as well. Tadatomo will give her a big ol’ hug and tell her how proud he is of her, honestly, you’re probs gonna cry too

He is another excellent papa, who would give the world to his kid- he’s honestly so happy that you’re with him because he feels like he would never be able to take care of her as good without you

Xolotl

XOLOTL WOULD BE AN AMAZING DAD I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

I feel that he’d have one child, maybe two, but definitely one; a little boy

It’s most likely you who brings up the idea of having a kid with him; and he is both a nervous wreck and an excited mess because A) Oh! A baby! And you want to have one with him??? WHY??? And B) OH! A BABY! I LOVE BABIES AND I LOVE YOU

He’s a pretty gentle soul, so when you bring home the baby, Xolotl gets the kid to go out like a light every time he starts crying

It relieves both you and Lotl, but definitely Lotl, like, the poor guy always has a mini heart attack when his baby is crying

The baby is a bit of a fussy baby so, he tends to cry if he feels like he isn’t getting enough attention or he wants to be held

Lotl is super attuned to your kids’ emotions?? Like, to a freaky degree, he can tell just what your baby wants

He records all milestones in your babies life and you know it’s him because you can hear his sniffles in the background

IF (and most likely) YOUR BABY’S FIRST WORD IS DADA, XOL WILL FUCKING LOSE HIS SHIT

“Y/N! Y/N! Our baby said ‘dada’! Our baby said ‘dada’!” “Yes, Xol, that’s great! Don’t cry on the camera though, please-” *Incomprehensible blubbering ensues*

He’ll actually take the baby with him to work if you’re too busy to watch him or if you can’t find anyone to watch him

AKA: Maria is super busy and can’t watch the baby, which kills her inside because she loves the baby and Xolotl, as much as he loves Garmr, isn’t about to trust him with his baby’s life because that is… a very foolish decision to make, unfortunately

Hakuman got mad at him the first time for this and started yelling at him when the baby started to cry, her maternal instincts kicked in and she was on it; like she snatched him out of his little baby carrier and cradled him, cooing at the baby until he calmed down and then she gave him back to his papa, who was mildly miffed for once in his life, thank you very much (his fur was standing on end, he was ready to throw down with the mistress). She even apologized for taking your guys’ baby without permission and startling him- don’t get her wrong, she was still very much against the idea of Xol bringing his baby to work. It can, afterall, be a very dangerous place, especially the casino, but what could you do? Obviously this little baby needed a place to stay and what better place than with his papa, her top bodyguard, and of course the one and only her!

She ends up convincing him to bring the baby a vast majority of the time he comes around now, she’ll have him take him into meetings she has with the Tycoons and they get nothing done. NOTHING. They’re all too busy playing with the baby. He has a tendency to get really antsy when Ophion comes near his baby, fighting the urge to snap at him, but he learned that Ophion just really likes kids and holding them. Though he did make the jab that you and him would’ve made much cuter children and Hakuman was terrified of Xolotl in that moment because he almost lost his shit

When the baby becomes a toddler, Lotl is much more confident and experienced, but he’s still nervous, your little boy is still very attached to his papa despite this

When he meets new people that he doesn’t know very well, he’ll hide behind your’s or Xolotl’s leg and peek out at them

It’s really, really cute???? Lotl almost starts crying

SPEAKING OF CRYING, your little munchkin cries a lot

But Lotl never yells at him for it or anything, he just kneels down and rests his hands on his shoulders and asks what’s wrong, more often than not, your kiddo just gets nervous and starts crying, not loud and obnoxious, but those silent tears of stress. But then he gets a big ol’ hug from papa/you and he’s alright

He likes to try and copy what Lotl does so he’ll pretend he has a tie and fix it whenever Papa Lotl does and he almost screamed when he caught your kiddo mimicking him

He’ll also steal Lotl’s glasses once in a while and wear them, pretending to be a kick ass agent like his dad

LOTL MADE HIM A MATCHING BRACELET TO HIM AND I SHIT YOU NOT WHEN I SAY: THIS BOY NEVER TAKES IT OFF, EVEN WHEN HE’S A TEENAGER THAT STAYS NO MATTER WHAT

Lotl gave it to him when it was his first day of school and told him that papa put some of his and mama/papa/nano’s bravery in it so he’d always have some of his own- and he just- AHHH-

As your little boy grows up, he develops a bit more of a bite than his dad has, so he’ll try to defend you guys from anyone if they try to say anything about his dad crying and hitting on you, they have one pissed off toddler on their hands and he fucking bites, it doesn’t matter if he has the fangs or not, he’ll bite someone

(You guys honestly don’t know where he learned that from-*looks at Garmr*)

When he hits his tween years, the boy is an anxious mess, but he’s not afraid to cry about it, he’s learned that crying is perfectly fine from his papa and it’s actually super healthy to get rid of all that pent up emotion, so you bet your ass when I say: your little boy knows a lot of healthy coping methods, which is awesome

It actually helps his transition through puberty a lot

Real talk, he almost shits himself when he speaks and he realizes how deep his fucking voice is, even Lotl is freaked out. But then he gets real proud of it and so does Lotl and it’s a cute father-son moment

If he ever gets to be the same size of Lotl, he’ll still get plenty of head pats from his papa

His teenage years are pretty smooth sailing aside from him being a tad anxious and socially awkward about things, but he’ll get through it! With the power of support and him having a safe place to explore himself he’ll learn healthy coping mechanisms to handle his anxiety!

Though if he ever does get really emotionally constipated or it just becomes too much, he’ll go to Lotl or you and ask if you can hug him and he’ll just cry and let it all go, rambling into your shirt, you can barely make out the words, but still nodding along with what he’s saying- it really helps

He has a first job already in the bag: at the water park that Hakuman runs! Because like hell was he gonna work at the casino as a first job, over Lotl’s, your’s and Hakuman’s dead bodies. It really helps his social anxiety and he learns that he actually really likes to interact with people (also everyone loves him over there because he’s such a gigantic teddy bear)

He’s probably super into art and Lotl gets him everything art related that he can get his hands on, he really wants to support his kiddo

Lotl and you go to every gallery that your son’s art features in and it’s always great because that’s where you get to see him shine the most

When your guys’ son graduates from high school with a fully paid scholarship to his dream art school for his portfolio, you're all crying. You’re all so proud of your guys’ little boy

Having a kid was really good for Xolotl- having a family was really good for him; it helped build his confidence and become more secure with himself. He only wished his brother could be here to see his nephew, but this was fine, he could probably see him know and see how good of a dad Lotl was

Bonus HC for Lotl: he’d be, hands down, one of the best characters to be a single parent. Change my mind

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