#a time upon learning someone else had that idea before i did) which had as its protagonist ryder hood - whose parents were

[wickershells]

few folks more enlightened on this earth than the little girls whose favourite common fairytale was little red riding hood

[morguecuts]

Incase I’m Not Here

five hargreeves has a baby with fem!reader  synopsis: five has saved the world from an apocalypse countless times. after creating a loving family of his own, his constant worry that the end will come again unfortunately became true. word count: 1.5k tags: five is a father, fluff, angst, death, a few sad moments authors note: this is one of my most beautiful, yet devastating pieces. i truly love the idea of five being a loving father :(

  ♱⛧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⛧♱ the end of the world was an ongoing tragedy for many years, ruining the lives of billions over and over again, but especially the hargreeves. the umbrella academy, as they were called, spent endless months trying to prevent an apocalypse from occurring. they traveled from timeline to timeline, skipping around decades trying to save themselves and the remainder of earth. 

when the timeline was assumed to be restored, the superhumans had agreed to go separate ways and live their lives. diego and lila created their own family, housing a new timeline version of lila’s birth parents. viktor moved all the way to canada, owning a bar and a gray cat named misty. luther was typically off the grid, except the occasional birthday post for him and all of his siblings. klaus and allison lived together, in a three story house with allison’s daughter claire. 

five hargreeves traveled the world, worrying about the potential upcoming events that would force him and his siblings to reunite in tragedy. he tracked previous timelines, looking for artifacts that hint at a glitch in the system. after the first 5 years of silence, and seeming nothing pointing toward any timeline issues, he began to calm his nerves. 

that’s when he met the mother of his child. she was the light that five never knew he was missing. she ignited a burnt flame deep inside his soul, rekindling the lost inspiration he held for things that were other than research. in addition, her beauty was unmatched to anyone he had ever seen, or met before. her long hair completely covered the back of her body, tracing the outline of her beautiful shape. her perfectly puzzled face made him swoon almost immediately. most importantly, the way that she loved him made him learn to love who he was inside, instead of who people wanted him to be. 

their home was a perfect combination of their personalities. a matte black and white aesthetic, perfectly clean and chic, with a hint of victorian vampire. her feminine touch was visible in all the right places, creating a warm home for the two of them, and anyone else who entered. his headstrong worries of future destruction set up for typically annoying safety procedures, but she didn't mind it. the pair merged together quite beautifully, carbon copies of the other. if five didn’t know any better, which to be fair he actually did, then he would say they were lovers in every possible timeline. 

five was used to living for himself, his siblings, and even the rest of the world. his purpose was always meant to save other people, live for them, protect them. however, now 5 years into the loving marriage with her, he had learned to live for someone who wasn’t superhuman. 

he stood hovering over the clean white bassinet. the small beaded eyes glance up at him, an overwhelming amount of confusion falls over them before turning to love. her small nose scrunching at the sight of him. the few hairs brushed upon her head are slicked down away from her face. her small pursed lips release grumbles and whines at an alarming volume, desiring for the tall suited man to hold her.

“she isn’t going to crumble if you pick her up, five. you have to hold her eventually, she needs to know who her father is.” the child's mother cooed, leaning into his back, wrapping her arms around his waist lovingly. the man sighed into her touch, except it wasn't really there. the air behind him was cold and stiff. his body ached for her, a sense of comfort was quickly turned back into sadness. 

“what if she doesn't like me?” he spoke into the rather empty room. “what if something triggers me to teleport and i hurt her? my only way of protecting her is loving her from a distance.” the water in his eyes glasses over the blue. he reeks of sorrow, insecurity, and fear. 

“you are the one man designed to protect her, my love. don't let what happened in the past make you afraid of what's happening in the present. she’s going to need you, we both know i can't help you anymore. please just pick her up, five.” the voice echoes around him, his eyes narrowing down onto the now sleep filled child. 

he carefully unbuttons the sleeves on his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and draping it onto the side of the crib. he rolls his white undershirt above his elbows, hyping himself up in the process. the small fragile girl rests on the pillowed surface, her tiny chest rising and falling. his hands carefully wrapping around her body, supporting her head while raising her close to him.

the small being is unlike anything he’s ever seen. tiny hands attached to tiny arms, short legs with the smallest feet. she’s unable to do anything without him. her entire life for the next few years depends on his actions. a small worried smile spreads across his face, admiring the girl leaning against his arms. 

small eyes blink open tiredly, glaring around before landing on her fathers. pure love glistens with the hazel colors swimming around. she makes chirps and squirming noises, slightly frightening five in the process. he takes mental notes on all of her little features. definitely her mothers eyes and lips, but his nose. truly the perfect combination of the two lovebirds. tears form in his eyes when he sees her smile, a miniature yet exact replica that once belonged to her mother. 

a faint knock taps upon the nursery door, the caretaker is chattering unknown words outside. theres a moment of silence before she enters the room, glancing at five with the baby cradled lovingly in his embrace. he turns around at the sound of her appearance, looking into her puzzled face. “there’s been a call for you, it's from your sister in law.” her eyes are firm and strong, holding his gaze causing him to pause for a moment. 

“and what did she say?” he turns his back to her again, slowly rocking the baby back into her peaceful rest.

“a briefcase was found in new york this morning. i’m so sorry, but it’s starting, sir.” she holds her hands together in front of her body, head dipping into her chest. 

“how long do we have?” five knows his constant worrying would eventually lead to this. he thought by spending endless hours hunting down glitches in the timeline, he could find a cause, find a solution, but nothing ever came until now.

“they don't know anything yet. it could be weeks, months, possibly even years. i’ve been told it's not severe, but that doesn't mean that it won't become so.” the sorrow in her voice runs deep, an unfortunate sigh escapes her lips. 

his stillness is deafening, the room has a slight buzzing noise from the house's electricity, but otherwise is completely silent. the babe shifts in his arms, nuzzling into him for better warmth and comfort. it is at this exact moment that everything clicks into place. she is his new purpose, and she will be his future. if anything is to go wrong, he would sacrifice his life for her without a question. nothing will ever be able to cause harm to her as long as he is alive.

his mind races thinking of the possibilities, will she have powers like him? will she be as headstrong as him? will she be accurately able to save the world if he is no longer alive to do so himself? The caretaker takes a step backwards, beginning to leave the room before his voice breaks the silence. “i need parchment, as much as you can physically gather.” his words are cold, and demanding, nothing that he has ever been towards her before. “and pens as well, as many pens as you can find me. i have work i must do before it's too late.” he begins to lie the child back into her bassinet, gently wrapping her back into the warmth of the bed. “yes sir, is there anything else?” the caretaker steps towards the door once more, ready to step into motion as requested. five’s eyes scan over every inch of his beloved offspring, a protective concern washed over his face. “yes actually, the albums from the attic please. i want her to be able to recognize her family when things go south.” his comment is quieter, more personal and calm. the caretaker whisks away, leaving the man and his daughter alone once more.

“you will never be alone” a gentle hand brushes small hairs away and out of her face. rubbing her small, chubby cheeks before pulling back. “i will guide you through everything that i possibly know, you will not fail this world.” his feet step back from the white wooden crib, reaching for the black jacket that was hung upon it earlier that night. slipping into it before exiting the room, heading toward his office.

 ♱⛧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⛧♱

thank you so much for reading!

i hope you’ve enjoyed it, please feel free to make any comments or story requests down below. any support is always appreciated <3

[llyfrenfys]

PLEASE TELL US ABOUT Y DDRAIG TRAWS!

Certainly! I'm more than happy to oblige.

First though I'm gonna need to tldr: the history of Y Ddraig Goch before we get onto the (accidentally) canonically trans part.

A brief history of Y Ddraig Goch:

(The modern Welsh flag)

Y Ddraig Goch first appears in the tales of the Mabinogi (Charlotte Guest version) in the tale of Lludd and Llefelys where it is fighting a white dragon. The fight is also described/expanded upon in the c. 829 AD text Historia Brittonum (attributed to Nennius) - where the red dragon represents Wales and the white dragon represents the Anglo-Saxons. In the story the red dragon triumphs over the white. Of course, Geoffrey of Monmouth also covers the story c. 1136 in Historia Regnum Brittaniae in which he introduces the concept of the red dragon heralding the arrival of King Arthur.

Geoffrey of Monmouth claims Arthur used a banner featuring a golden dragon. But we also know the accuracy of Monmouth can be questionable at times. Owain Glyndŵr did use a banner with a golden dragon called Y Ddraig Aur - raised in 1401 at Caernarfon - Glyndŵr chose this banner as a nod to the supposed banner of Arthur and his father.

Later on the Tudor monarchs (being a Welsh family) adopted a red dragon on a white and green background in their heraldry. Eventually Y Ddraig Goch on a white and green background became the official badge of Wales in 1800. The design became the official flag of Wales in 1959.

Y Ddraig Traws:

Now for the thing you're all here for -

So, as outlined, the history of the dragon as a national symbol of Wales goes back a long way. If we're just talking post-1959, there's some interesting implications for Y Ddraig Goch's depiction.

This is what the Welsh flag (and Y Ddraig Goch) looked like in 1959 when it was officially adopted as the flag of Wales. It looks broadly the same as the first flag and has some common features - such as not having a penis (or, as in the correct heraldic terminology - a pizzle). Meanwhile, in the arms of the Tudors (specifically Henry VII)

(Tudor dragon with pizzle) vs (dragon on the flag of Cardiff - pizzleless)

the penis is almost always included. So much to the point that the present royal family still includes the penis. While pretty much 0 depictions of the dragon in Wales include a penis. So you could interpret this as the dragon is seen as male only by the British royal family and as female everywhere else (which kinda implies that at some point the Tudor dragon had an mtf transition in Wales and she keeps getting misgendered by the royal family every time she is depicted in (mostly) England).

So much to the point that in 1995 this pound coin was made by the Royal Mint featuring the pizzle on the dragon with all four feet touching the ground as opposed to standing up (passant rather than rampant).

But in Wales you'd be hard pressed to see a pizzled dragon anywhere. Ergo, we can only conclude Y Ddraig Goch is trans and she transitioned in Wales and keeps getting misgendered in England.

[note: This is mostly tongue in cheek - but I do think it's fun to extrapolate that the Welsh dragon is trans because of the differences in depiction between Wales and England. Like many things Welsh, it is misrepresented by England and the idea of the Welsh dragon being misgendered only in England is, I think, a good metaphor for a whole lot of English treatment of Wales.]

Unrelatedly, there is a gay Welsh flag held at the National Museum of Wales which has a very wonky dragon which I find very endearing.

(cleaned up version I made)

So much so I made it an emoji in my Welsh bilingual LGBTQIA+ Discord (requirements for joining are - be 16+, either speak or are learning Welsh and identify as LGBTQIA+ in some way. Dm for link!).

(triaist ti 'you tried' emoji)

~ Completely unrelatedly ~ never forget the time someone was trying to homophobic to me by suggesting that I was disrespecting all the soldiers who died 'for the Welsh flag' by making it rainbow colours and not red - arguing that any change of colour of the dragon was disrespectful. Reader, my bus pass at the time for Mid Wales Travel had a purple dragon on it.

[shytastemakerthing]

Hi! Could I request headcanons of the Overblot Students with a Yuu who can read minds please? Thank you!!

A/N: Hello and thank you so much for your request! I wasn't sure if the mind reading was something that could turn on and off or if it was something activated at all times, so I did a mix of both to make it a bit easier! I really like the idea of this Yuu! I hope that you enjoy!

Request: OB Boys with Yuu who can read minds

Tw: Mentions of blood in Azul's, Jamil's, Vil's, and Malleus' sections

At first, he had no idea that there was even a magic of this caliber that existed. There had always been speculation, but to hear that you are capable of such? He had his doubts at first

That was, until you told him exactly what he was thinking that very moment

Turns out you can choose whether or not you are going to read someone's mind, which is a relief for him, granted, he knows that it isn't your fault

Okay, yeah, he believes you now

Does it come with any side effects? Headaches? Blurry vision? Anything like that?

He is both fascinated but also worried

A power like that would be easily covered and people would want to use your ability to their advantage

Thankfully, he is not that type of person

If you've had a harder day, he will invite you over to Hearyslabyul, in his room where it is nice and quiet for a glass of warm tea and strawberry tarts

Just let him know if anything happens, he will be there for you as soon as s he can

For this, you really had no control over whether or not you could read someone's mind, so your head is always quite loud when in heavier populated areas, which is why the botanical gardens seemed to be perfect for you right now

This was how you met Leona

You don't really hear the thoughts of others when they are sleeping so you had no clue that he was there until you had stumbled upon him

At first glance, he could tell that you were in pain, and didn't know as to why, and then a group of students came in from Crewel's class and your pained expression only got worse

Consider his curiosity piqued

After locating you in a secluded area, he came to learn of your ability to read the minds of others, but it was also something you had no control over

So being in an area with a lot of people, with an ability you can't control, no wonder the migraines are a nightmare

Once together, he tries to find some solutions here and there to be able to help you out. From secluded areas for you two to be where he knows no one will be, to seeing if there is anything to lessen the noise in your head

No luck yet, but he tries just for you

If things are getting to be too much for you, come and find him. He isn't always the best with comfort and such but he knows just how to help you feel better

For this, you have control whether or not you can read the mind of someone else

Azul first learned of your little ability shortly before his own OB when he was working to get you into a contract and you literally just told him everything that he was planning and thinking of the moment that he would get you to sign

Cue a surprised look from all three members of the fish mafia

Now he really wanted to get that contract

After all, having magic that allowed you to read the minds of others? Why, it was unheard of

Post OB is a bit different

First, there was no way to actually take your ability, it was something unique to you

Next, he saw firsthand just how hard it can be on you, and where you also saw just how much he cares for you

Your ability had gotten a bit out of hand, when trying to see into one mind led you to tapping into everyone's mind, in this case, instead of one person, it was dozens

The bloodshot eyes, a bloody nose, and a killer migraine, the amount of sheer pain you were in as everything flooded in all at once

He had taken you to his own room in the dorm and had essentially barricaded the door shut to make sure no one got in

Jade and Floyd got everyone out, Azul removed his coat and put it over you and even brought you into the octo pot, seeing as it was darker and far more quiet

Seeing you starting to get better brought a great deal of relief to him

If a moment like this happens again, come to him as soon as you can and he will ensure that everything will be taken care of

After hearing of your ability to selectively read the minds of anyone else, he begins to wonder if you had ever read his, but assuming the events of his OB, it was safe to assume that you didn't, respecting the privacy that the man had

Honestly, it makes him feel rather warm inside to know that you wouldn't violate him in such a way

Which has him feeling certain things knowing that he has quite literally brainwashed you into doing what he wanted, an ability just as invasive as your own

It took a lot of work for him to actually forgive himself for something like that, but once you are both in a relationship, he does all he can to take care of you and make up to you with what he has done, but only to you

He once saw the effects that your ability could have

A couple other students heard of this ability of yours and were begging you to try and read their minds, so many of them beginning to crowd around you, that it went from one mind, expanding to the rest and you nearly collapsed then and there

He was quick to grab you and get everyone else away from you before taking you back to his room and slammed the door

Jamil sat you on his bed as he grabbed a wet wash cloth and began to carefully clean up the blood that was dribbling from your nose

Seeing how tired you were afterwards, he loaned you some of his own pajamas and would let you rest in his bed.

Tucking you in, he would place a small kiss to your forehead before heading out to make you a fresh meal..... and to ensure that those students will never bother you again

He was rather skeptical at first when he heard of your ability to read the minds of others. No ability like that had ever been seen before, at least, not one that was permanent

But after the events of his own OB, and everything that was happening with Neige and what he was planning to do, he found it to be much more believable

But he also learned that you had no control over when you would read someone's mind. If you could see them, you could hear them

And now it made more sense about why you really did not want to go to VDC. There had to be hundreds of not thousands of people there, and you were on that stage dealing with him, able to see each and every one of them

Which would explain the amount of blood pooling from your nose, your blood shot eyes, even dripping past your lips

And yet, you still managed to help him

It was something he never wanted to see again

You being in that much pain

So after getting together, Vil specialized in making a potion that he could actually take that would work as a null agent against your ability, which made you cry the first time. For once, everything was quiet

He will get you anything you need for pain when the side effects begin to kick in, he is a pro at this point

Which is why he was as scared as he was when you stumbled into the dorm with a bloodied nose, the same bloodshot eyes, and look of pain

Rook and Epel were quick to clear everyone out as Vil led you to his room after giving you a tissue to hold to your nose

Sitting you in his bathroom, he helped get you all cleaned up, washed your face, even as you were falling asleep in his hold with the soothing sensations he was providing

He didn't have the heart to wake you up, so he merely picked you up and laid you in his bed, smiling oh so softly at just how serene you looked

He may not be the hero in everyone else's eyes, but he was the hero in yours, and that as enough

After knowing of your ability, it was both a blessing and a curse at the same time for him

On one side, you would always know what he needed or wanted and he didn't even have to say anything, on the other hand, he would never know when you would peek into his mind

After assuring him that you would never peek into his mind unless you had his full permission, he felt a bit better about it

Knowing the side effects that using your ability can have, will always invite you to his room

No people to give you unnecessary pain, calm and quiet, mind wise. He made no promises if he got really into a game

But it was the thought that counts

Literally

You have become so in-tune with him that you can tell what he is thinking just by thinking about him

Which comes in handy when you are coming to visit and you already have a bag full of snacks he was wanting to have

It was moments like this where he absolutely loved your ability, and honestly wanted it as well

Knowing what someone wanted and needed without having to actually talk to them?

It was a dream for him

Coming to him one day with a killer migraine and stumbling steps, he knew it was a harder day

Idia lets you crash on his bed as long as you need and is easily able to keep everyone else away from you until you're better

Perhaps this time around, he'll just have one of his handheld games and climb into bed with you

You knew he was there outside of Ramshackle before you even saw him, his thoughts being rather loud that night

Now, you haven't gone to see him just yet so when you two finally met for the first time, and you already knew who he was despite giving him that silly little nickname, he was rather curious

No one told you his name and you hadn't seen each other and yet you knew him?

You saw it in his mind?

You can't control it?

That would explain how you always knew that he was out here before you ever saw him, given you couldn't sense his own magic

He sees first hand just how out of control your ability can get when too much comes in all at once

It had been in the middle of the day, classes had gotten out for the day and at the time, you had been away from other people

But there were a number who had seen you, and your reputation seemed to be rather well known somehow, and let's just say they wanted to see if it was true that you could read the minds of others

It was well over a dozen people from a number of dorms that group around you, thoughts racing and loud

Too loud

You don't exactly recall what happened after that, only that you were waking up in Diasmonia in none other than Malleus' room as he was rinsing out a bloodied wash rag Lilia had given him to help

You would explain to him that too much all at once, getting too loud, it tends to have some nasty side effects........ he's keeping you here for the rest of the day

Please, if anyone else gives you trouble, merely say his name and he will not hesitate to take care of those who are troubling you

Thank you so much for your request! Have a wonderful day/night!

[archduchessgortash]

Unpopular Opinion

An 'evil power couple ruling Toril together' ending for Durge and Gortash is a horrible idea, and I'm glad that it doesn't happen in Baldur's Gate 3. If it ever did, it would not be a happy ending for either of them.

If that's your kink... cool. It's such a popular ask in the fandom that I'm sure someone already wrote it months and months ago.

My kink is redemption, but hardly anyone seems to want that for Gortash, and it makes me sad. I really think it should have been an option.

Here's why I don't want Durge and Gortash ruling Toril:

Durge and Gortash have both been abused, manipulated, and treated like complete shit by their families, their caregivers, and their gods. Bane's treatment of Gortash isn't exactly clear except that he tortures his soul for failure even though Gortash did everything he possibly could to succeed in the Absolute plot. By the time we meet him in-game, Gortash has become as bad, if not worse, than his abusers. Pre-tadpole Durge was a piece of work, too, although Sceleritas does mention that they struggled to stay the course that Bhaal had set them upon even before their lobotomy.

We know that one of the themes in Baldur's Gate 3 revolves around cycles of abuse. Even when the victim-turned-abuser isn't arguably 'as bad' as the one who hurt them, if they choose the same sort of path, they lose everything they were ever really fighting for: themselves.

I know Ascended Astarion stans will stomp their feet and say he hasn't become Cazador 2.0. To them, I say: 'You're right. He hasn't... yet.' However, he has eternity now and a delusional slave of his very own to bring out the worst in him. There's a reason that spawn Astarion mentions how he felt everything he'd learned since meeting his new friend/partner slipping away when he thanks them for stopping his ascension. Because that is what ascension does to him. Astarion loses. Cazador wins. Even dead, he has won. That the fandom doesn't get that boggles my mind.

Some fans like the idea of evil Durge and Gortash taking out Bhaal and Bane, becoming gods themselves. In my opinion, this is so much worse. Killing or torturing their abusers as revenge isn't 'finally showing them' or proving their strength. It is, in fact, a mirror of their abuser's own weakness manifested in their victim. Gortash has already crossed this line. Dravo Flymm is effectively dead, animated only by his tadpole. This is another reason I wish Karlach had the option to forgive Gortash--not for him--but for her.

Gortash intellectualized his own abuse so hard that he actually thinks he was helping Karlach by giving her to Zariel. He has not truly dealt with anything that was done to him. He projects it onto the people around him and makes his own problems into everyone else's. I believe this is why there's no ending in which he survives. That, and running out of time and money to do him and Wyll justice with their storylines.

I don't like Durge and Gortash becoming worse together. A history of abuse does not excuse its continuation. I don't want to watch them be overtaken by their own weakness, to weep as I gaze upon the manifestation of their inescapable cowardice.

I want to see them win, but my definition of winning is not ruling. My definition of winning is choosing to no longer emulate their abusers, to become what tiny glimpses into their back stories show us they once had the potential to be.

The idea of Durge and Gortash enslaving the world and ruling it brings to mind a line from one of my all-time favorite songs: Veteran of the Psychic Wars by Blue Öyster Cult.

'Did I hear you say that THIS is victory?!'

Well... it is. Just not theirs.

Repeating the cycle of abuse is nothing short of ensuring the legacy of the abuser.

Like I said... I want Durge and Gortash to win.

[unoislazy]

‘Til The Caged Bird Sings

(Part 1)

Mizu x Mixed! Fem! Reader

Disclaimer; This is less of a chapter and more of a prologue for what’s to come.

I see your requests and I have begun to work on a few of them, but I have a few ideas that I had started previously that I would like to get to first. Thank you for your patience.

————————————————————

Marriage was not something you expected to be a part of your life. You truly believed you would never find someone who completed you enough to be set on sealing the deal. All the men you had met were arrogant and egotistical, so hellbent on fueling their ego that they refused to treat you like a human being. They believed that if they had been seen being paired with an ‘unreal’ like you, they would lose any fortune or honor they might have had, no matter how small. If that was how you would be treated, maybe that wasn't the life for you. Your life was by no means glamorous, if you had married it wouldn’t have been for monetary gain by anysense, for your parents maybe, but you got the short end of the stick no matter what. It more than likely would simply have been just to extend someone else's family lineage, then again who would want to have impure blood mixed with their own. Other than the desperate men who were practically chomping at the bit to get you, likely just to sell you off to someone else.

Not wanting anything like that for yourself, you had given up your life at home in favor of living a peaceful life on your own, far away from anyone who could treat you otherwise. You stayed out of people's way and just went about business as usual.

That was until you had met Mizu.

Your paths had crossed in the most unusual way, almost as if it was fate. You had met her on a day that you had to visit the market, which was peculiar on its own considering you very rarely went into town. You hadn’t seen her get into a fight, but you did witness the very bloody outcome first hand. You knelt down before her bloody body which had been just haphazardly strewn about against a wall. She struggled to keep her eyes open as they shifted to you, you were unsure if she could even see you properly but you could just barely make out the blue hue as her eyelids began to shut.

She was a mess and no one else around her seemed to care. You didn’t have much medicinal knowledge but you thought it right to help with what you could. So, you slung her over the back of your horse along with the supplies you had bought and made your way back to your home.

And that is where she stayed.

She was extremely skeptical at first, extremely jumpy and quite hesitant to even allow you to get near her. It took some convincing but eventually she had learned to trust you, even just the slightest bit. You meant no harm to her and she eventually came to realize that. She didn’t understand why, you owed her nothing, you didn't even know who she was but you still helped. You paid no mind to her skepticism or her ‘flaws’ and continued to treat her just as you saw fit.

Because you knew what it was like to be considered a demon.

You too had mixed blood and because of that you had always been cast away, looked down upon, and pushed to the side without another thought. You had been poked and prodded at like you were some otherworldly being that amounted to nothing more than the mud underneath people's shoes.

Once you both came to the realization that you had this fact in common, your relationship slowly began to build from there.

Because of Mizu’s injured state you both spent a lot of time around each other and while Mizu wasn’t incredibly talkative at first she had begun to open up to you. You two began to share stories with each other, spend late nights together, sometimes just sitting in silence enjoying each other's company. You had never met someone who had so much in common with you and neither had she, you both completed each other in a way that you almost didn’t think to be true. It took a while for you to gain her trust, but once you had you two were inseparable. Every chore you had around the house, Mizu insisted on helping, any place you needed to go, Mizu insisted on coming with. She never left your side and you never truly left hers either.

For once in her life, Mizu had finally begun to feel comfortable around someone, which was something she wasn’t able to say for a long time. She had gotten comfortable enough that she no longer felt the need to wear her glasses or pull her hair so far back, or even wear the baggy clothes she had initially gotten used to wearing. When she was around you, she felt as if she could truly be herself, she could wear whatever she wanted, she could finally let go as if no one was waiting to ridicule her and strike her down.

She felt safe.

She didn’t think she’d ever get to say that about anyone but there she was, standing before you, a few years later. You both were dressed in your best attire as you conducted a very makeshift ceremony. You both knew it wouldn’t be legal for you to get married officially, it was one thing that you both were mixed and it was an entirely new issue that you were both women. So you decided to do it yourself, sure it wouldn’t be legally recognized, but who cares? All that matters is that you both agreed that you loved each other enough to want to vow to protect each other at any cost. If anything, you appreciated it more than what was normally done and said at weddings.

You couldn’t be happier. You lived a quiet life, now with a wonderful wife by your side who was willing to do practically anything for you, and you would do the same for her. One day you had decided to surprise her by going out to buy a horse for her, you figured it would be better than you both just trading your poor old horse. You laughed as you watched Mizu attempt to groom the horse she had picked; with Mizu being Mizu, she chose the most stubborn one anyone could have possibly gone for. You watched on as she cautiously reapproached the rambunctious stallion, surprised she had gotten so far to begin with.

You leaned your head on your hands as you rested your weight on the wooden fence of the field, your eyes not once leaving Mizu as you focused on what you could see of her facial features.

She was probably one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. How any one could’ve even considered to claim that she was a demon or a monster, you would never know. She might have started off quite rude and abrasive but you couldn’t blame her for that, you would’ve too if one minute you were on the street and the next in some random person's house. But once her personality began to shine through and she began to slowly reveal parts of herself piece by piece, you slowly began to fall for her. You would’ve been a fool not to.

You snapped out of your thoughts, refocusing on Mizu, watching as her eyes squinted ever so slightly as she began to smile, her efforts paid off so she approached the stallion without any added effort. You cheered for her, walking onto the field with her as she continued to ever so gently pet the stallion.

“I told you I could.” She gloated in a joking manner, turning to you with a very proud smile on her face.

“And I never said you couldn’t.” You responded, matching her tone with a smile. She had taken her hand off of the horse and turned to face you as you linked your arm with hers, pulling yourself much closer to her.

“You thought about it.” She teased while sending you a challenging, yet very playful, glare.

“I did not.” You laughed at the childish nature of the conversation. You never would have guessed that stoic woman you had met years before would even think to have a conversation such as this.

You gave the woman a very soft peck on the cheek before telling her,

“I’m going to go back into the house to finish up some things, are you coming with me?” You asked. She thought about it for a second before turning back to her newly befriended horse,

“No, I think I’ll spend a little more time out here with him.” She replied, to which you smiled and nodded.

You made your way back inside, humming a tune that you had heard playing when you had visited the market last. It was light and airy, one that reminded you of something a songbird might sing. The notes were so fluttery it made you feel at peace, as if nothing could harm you.

You walked inside your home, shutting the door behind you as you continued to hum the tune. You grabbed your unfinished embroidery project and some thread and walked towards the spot where you usually sat when you were to complete a very long task. You had been so engrossed in your task you had yet to notice the three other people that also occupied the room.

By the time you had noticed their presence however, it had been too late.

“Hey, I think we need to go out and buy more fruits we don’t-” Mizu paused, Her eyes widening as she looked on at the scene before her. The house you shared, now in complete mess, the table toppled over, bits and pieces of different decorations you both had now torn to shreds and thrown about on the floor. The embroidery that you had been working on had been left, thrown carelessly to the side and still unfinished.

The worst thing Mizu had come across was a few droplets of blood that had been left on the floor.

What if it was your blood? What if they had harmed you?

Luckily though, because of the amount of blood that had been left, it was clear that the wound had not been too deep.

But if it had been your blood, whoever had raised a hand to harm you was going to wish they had never made such a careless mistake

[voxisdaddy]

Nifty Nifty Nifty

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox x Reader

Type: Fun and Fluffy! Platonic only! HEADCANONS

What if Vox had his own Nifty? Someone who’s just a short ball of chaos, easily entertained, and very quick?

c/tw: mention of cum (its still platonic, i swear)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Alastor and Nifty’s relationship is weird. To Vox that is. He observes Alastor whenever he can, which Alastor tends to make it almost impossible to do so, but from what Vox has gathered-Alastor may or may not have a soft spot for this ‘Nifty’ lady.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Cringe. Anyways,

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ When you met Vox, let’s say it was in his early days in hell-before the Vee’s, fame, fortune, and, hell, even before the overlord status was placed upon him, so you were an early contract. One he didn't see a lot actually. For good reason!

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox sighed as he slumped back, defeated, on his chair. His eyes followed the hyper active little sinner who scurried along all around his monitor equipment. He was slightly worried they'd knock something over but the one thing (Y/N) hated with a burning passion was a mess. So he was a bit at ease knowing that his equipment likely wouldn’t be damaged.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "I dusted down the keyboard this morning. It's fine!" Vox insisted as he watched the little ball of speed come to a halt to tear apart his keyboard.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "Not enough! Did you even use that feather duster I gave you for our soul-contract-iversary? It's so unclean! You didn't even take off the caps to really get in there like you're supposed to!" The little thing rambled on. They weren't particularly venting about it though. It was all done because they were just excited. Which was a breathe of fresh air for Vox so he didn't immediately kick them out.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Maybe offering the 10 pound, 3 foot tall sinner a cup of coffee wasn't his most calculated move. You'd think he'd learn by now.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ But he just couldn't resist the hopeful teary eyed expression you gave him this morning when you asked for a sip of his coffee. He wasn't gonna share so he brewed a cup for you and made it just how he'd think you'd like it-a crap ton of sugar.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Velvette had inquired if that really was a good idea but Vox being the prideful, stubborn, 'I'm the boss' pissy baby he is, had shot her concerns down. Something about how he doesn't have to listen to someone else tell him how to control his souls.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Yeah Velvette was not happy with that and flipped him off. Telling him that whatever happens is his mess to clean up all on his own.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Oh yeah the other Vee's are familiar with you already. It was actually quite funny how you met them.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ When you first met Velvette you were sitting on some top shelf and giggling madly to yourself as you looked at her outfit that day. It was a lovely little outfit with artistic decisions in where the red melty heart symbols were located. "You got slime on your clothes!" You giggled, "I'll clean them!" Velvette backed away slowly as you whipped out a large sponge and a bucket of soapy water. Vox had intervened just in time to catch you midair before you could 'ruin' Velvettes outfit.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino first met you in one of his night clubs-one specifically for sex favors. He was chatting with Vox in a separate room when they heard a shriek. Valentino had intended to ignore it until Vox ran out of the room, cursing under his breath. When the pimp entered the club room he watched with a confused look on his face as a little sinner scrambled around with a black light, tears in their eyes, and like a thousand cleaning materials in their arms. They wailed in Vox's arms about how filthy the entire room was. Valentino took an interest in you, maybe you could be quite useful in one of his films. Like a sexy little maid or something. Yeah before he could make an offer you had ripped off some of his fur, muttering about how unclean his coat was.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Oh Val, that would not be the only time a little ball of chaos ripped some of your fur off, would it?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Anyways, Vox didn't keep you around much for, as previously mentioned, good reason. In fact, part of your contract was that you never reach out to him. He will be the one to reach out to you. It leaves your text messages and mailing address heavily one sided. Vox still cringes at the memory when the head of the mailing company had accused him of stalking some poor innocent sinner.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox liked to think he didn't have any favourites of all his contracted souls. The closest would probably be Travis (the name I gave his assistant in episode 2) but that was mainly bc out of all of Vox's assistants, Travis actually got shit done to Vox's standards. So yeah. Absolutely no favourites. Non whatsoever. Nope nope nope-

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "And in other news, VoxTek is releasing some new cleaning products for your VoxTek appliances!" Vox promotes on his 'Vox-2-Nite' show one evening. Suddenly your little happy face comes very close in front of camera 1, holding an armful of the cleaning products you managed to convince Vox to make. Vox stretches behind you to try and get his face back on camera 1, and maybe hint for a crew member for get you off the damn set.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ No one could mangle you away from the cameras though, leaving Vox to shamefully climb over his desk and retrieve you himself. He sat back on the guest seat, hand clamping over your mouth, arm holding your body as still as he possibly can as he hurried to end the show.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "That's it for tonight on 'Vox-2-Nite'! Tune in tomorrow night for a very special guest, Velvette-hey get back here!" You slipped out of his arms, running up to the camera and firmly grasping it in your hands. "Buy our cleaning products! Valentino says the soap is the same colour as Mister Vox’s cum-!" "AAAAAAAAA!!" Vox tackles you to the floor.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Velvette finds herself smiling smugly along side a chuckling Valentino at the...unexpected closing of the show. They wait for Vox to slam open the doors. But surprisingly Vox doesn't come charging in upset. Instead he looks unbothered as you cling to his leg wailing for your cleaning products back.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "I'll clean all of the Vee's tower! Every little corner! That's how I'll make it up to you, I promise!" Vox pulled you off his leg from the back of your top. "It wouldn't be a punishment if you enjoyed it now, wouldn't it?" Then he dropped on you the couch next to Valentino who scurried away out of fear that you'll rip out his fur again. He may or may not have ptsd from the first time.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ If you were a normal sinner, any of his other souls or employees, you'd be ripped apart by now or have some other form of harsh punishment-he's not above using some of his employees as target practice with a gun of course. But you weren't like the rest to him. Yeah. Definitely no favourites.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "Imagine being attached to some little sinner!" Vox laughed, spinning around in his chair with a cup of hot coffee on his iconic 'Fuck Alastor' customized mug. He looked at the monitor with an amused expression, with a smug, teasing smile. Alastor's fondness of this Nifty lady was just too comical. Cringe, even. "He's such a loser." He sipped his coffee.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "Can I have a sip?" You perked up suddenly next to him and eyeing his coffee. Vox hands the mug to you thoughtlessly. "Yeah, go ahead." He says before laughing again.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino and Velvette, on separate monitors as the three were in a video call together, throw a 'really?' expression Vox's way. He fails to notice that though as he's still looking on in amusement and making his comments-laughing at his own jokes like the sad, little simp he is.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ I like to imagine that Vox kidnaps Nifty just to spite Alastor and Alastor, not one to back down from a challenge, in turn kidnaps you. So he's been doing his homework too it seems.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It then becomes an awkward trade off of little chaos gremlins, with both Overlords inching towards each other holding each others little friend. Like, they don't even set them on the ground for them to find their way back to their masters-each somewhat paranoid that the others just gonna take both and run away. So they hold the two of you out, using the other arm to slowly reach for their respective little entertainment. As soon their fingers graze their friend, Nifty is swept up into Alastor's arms and you're swept up in Vox's. The two throw glares at each other, shadows curling dangerously behind Alastor and electricity flickering around Vox violently.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "I got stuck in his fancy toilet!" Nifty points at Vox.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "He took me to Cannibal Town and a lady named Susan tried to eat me!" You point at Alastor.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ One night as Vox sat in a meeting room surrounded by all his sharks, he downed a bottle of some hard liquor. It was another difficult day. Surprisingly enough, the nail on the coffin was when Vox finally admitted to himself that he does have a favourite.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "Can I stay here?" You suddenly appeared on the table which nearly gave Vox's dead cold heart a heart attack. "What?' He recovered. "I like it here. Velvette says I'm like a doll she can dress up and I get lots of new clothes. Valentino lets me clean his studio-with a promise I don't touch him." Vox nearly snorted. Almost. But a rare, vulnerable, genuine smile took its place instead.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ "I suppose. Your presence is... not unenjoyable to have in the tower." Suddenly Vox finds you climbing his shoulders, hands gripping the top of his monitor to keep yourself steady. You take his hat and place it neatly on top of your own head. Vox glances up at you with a toothy grin. "Onward to my new room, Mister Vox!" Vox stands and cleans up after himself, not removing you from the piggy back you forced upon him. "Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that strange head of yours."

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You, dear (Y/n), are a soul worth keeping-and a friend worth having.

This took longer to get out than expected. Sorry about that. I think it came out longer than I expected too. A lot longer actually. I might make a part 2 bc this was so fun! Thanks for reading! Likes + Reblogs are appreciated!

Tags: @viviannagiorgini @fabii275

[shipaxe]

My experience being wrong about plurality

Hi. For a year and a few months more, I believed I was a system. Why did I believe this, and what are some reasons I did, as well as how I realized I was wrong? Why I thought I was a system Around September of 2021, I labeled myself as an endogenic median system. Upon finding the system label, I did nowhere near enough research before labeling myself as one. It felt like the non-traumagenic community didn't care; if you thought you were a system, you were one! If you didn't, you weren't. It felt black and white. Eventually, I realised I had trauma I was unaware of, and switched to the label traumagenic. I was no longer median, either. In less than a year, I had 100+ alters. While this can happen, I don't believe I was nearly as stressed as I would have needed to be, and it just.. didn't feel right. Other factors that lead me into the belief I have multiple other disorders. Specifically, I suspect I have BPD, and the dissociation, mood swings, sense of emptiness, and identity issues impacted me a lot. I mistook these symptoms for OSDD-1. I subconsciously started sectioning off parts of my identity, and felt more and more separate- hence the switch from median to multiple. I am also fictionkin and otherkin. Some of my fictives (which my system consisted almost completely of) ended up being kintypes. I am also, to put it simply, lonely. I never feel like I fit in. In the system community, sometimes I DID feel like I fit in. When I didn't, someone else was "chilling in cofront". A lot of them were like imaginary friends to make me feel less alone. Those ones don't even feel like a part of me, but they're not separate people, either. They're just.. figments of my own imagination. To be honest, I've felt much lonelier upon learning I am a singlet. How I realized I was wrong Honestly, it was somewhat obvious. Many of my "headmates" felt like they were a part of me, and if we had different bodies, it wouldn't be the same- because they were me. I also subconsciously started to copy symptoms I didn't have, I switched as I wanted, I was fictive heavy- which can happen, but it's rarer than people realise. My trauma was not severe or repetitive. I could go on. A big problem in the system community is the "everyone is valid" mentality; I believe MUCH more research should be done before labeling as a system, and not enough people talk about it. Another issue is that not a lot of people talk about being wrong, and personally, I was terrified to tell people I was wrong. It's fucking difficult. There's too much "you're valid! you're valid! you're valid!" and not enough "hey, it's okay if you're wrong!". When I panicked around the time I realized I was wrong (and denied it for weeks), I never received an "it's okay if you're wrong". All I got was "hey, calm down, you ARE a system". I think the community has a lot to fix. This has fucked up my dissociation issues and identity problems worse than they were before. I wish I had realized I was a singlet sooner or never jumped into this label. Not all of these mean you're a singlet, but if you relate to this, please be open to the idea of being wrong. Thanks for reading this. Please share this- my goal with it is to help others. Have a good day/night, drink some water, and know that it's okay to be wrong. ☆

[hotnbloodied]

Petite!Yan X Reader

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

TW: implied stalking, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, murder(not of reader), slight gore(?). <let me know if I missed anything>

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

Your laugh was his drug, he loved listening to you laugh. That glowing round face on that adorable plush body of yours. If it was up to him he’d want to keep himself wrapped around you forever but you two were just friends. (For now.) He was always made fun of for liking the cuter things in life, Sanrio, pastels and frills. His home town was small and everyone basically knew everyone, that’s why he went to a big university but making friends was never easy when one has been an outcast for so long.

It wasn’t until his second semester that he met you. When he chose to join a club as a way to make friends, you were also a part of it and you were really clumsy as he was soon to find out. It started when everyone was making cakes, as it was the theme for this week's activity and everyone was given the choice of trying to do it from scratch or using box mix. This wasn’t Petite!Yan’s first rodeo in baking so he started doing what he liked such as sifting the flour and beating the eggs.

He noticed you right when you opened the box cake mix and just dumped all the contents you were holding at shoulder length into a bowl that was on the counter. Causing the powder to fly everywhere and only some of the box cake mix to enter the bowl. It was extra hard to have not noticed you since you were stationed right beside him which led to the aforementioned powder that didn't land in the bowl, to get all over his station, coating his ingredients and part apron to be dusted with your cake mix.

You profusely apologize to him and try your best to explain through your flushed expression that you’ve never cooked or baked before. He laughed (when was the last time he did that?) and assured you it was okay, in fact, he thought it would be a good idea to help you through the step by step of everything. By the end of it all he had his adorably decorated cake that looks like it could have come from Pinterest and your cake, that looked like what you’d expect from someone learning.

After that experience you and him talked more outside of the club, he learned that you were sociable unlike him so you introduced your friends to him which he greatly appreciated but even though this was what he wanted, why did he still feel so empty? His heart tinged every time you laughed with someone else and his mood sours when he sees you smile at someone else. (It should be all his.)

In his pursuit to find ways to spend as much time with you as he could he found out that all the food that you eat was prepackaged food from the store since you couldn’t cook to save yourself. He took it upon himself to make sure you ate home cooked food regularly by making you lunches, not only that, he convinced you to let him teach you some basic cooking skills, adding to the time the two of you spent together where he could bask in your presence. On top of also the time he spent with you with the friend group at school.

During the week, the friend group would all convene at someone’s house, usually whoever was the one offering, and study together. That's if you and Petite!Yan didn’t have cooking club that day. Then afterward you and Petite!Yan would eat dinner together. During the weekend you went on shopping trips with Petite!Yan since you commented that you liked his style a lot and wanted to dress more like him (which unintentionally added fuel to his delusional fire.)

Petite!Yan couldn’t help but fall into the rhythm of monopolizing your time. But it came to a head one day when the friend group saw someone new, a tall boy with an edgy feel to him. PetiteYan’s alarm bells started ringing when he noticed the pink dusting your face when you talked to the boy and how the new boy seemed extra soft around you. (Petite!Yanisn’t delusional! He’s got the weeks of observation notes of you to prove that something is up!) Slowly, to his dismay, your wardrobe which was on the cuter side (thanks to him!) changed slowly to adopt more black clothes and edgier fashion.

Not only that, you were spending more alone time with the boy, when you used to spend it with him! This boy was a bad influence on you. He had to bring you back to his– the light side, before it was too late! But he needed to be smart about this. One day, when he saw that the boy was alone he realized that it was now or never before walking up to him. Petite!Yan told him that you were looking for him and could bring him over to where you were. Only for Petite!Yan to bring him to a secluded area and tasering him before tying his body up and dragging him to the trunk of his car and driving to the woods. Petite!Yan wasn’t the strongest but he was running on pure adrenaline. Before the boy could wake up, Petite!Yan took out a large knife that he kept exactly for an occasion like this and sliced the boys’ throat causing a terrible gurgling sound to escape his mouth. The sound was gross, so much so that Petie!Yan couldn't bare to listen to it. To end his misery faster than the boys, he jammed the knife into the boy's chest, aiming for the heart and getting frustrated every time he struck the ribs instead. Killing someone was harder, and messier than he had thought it would be, who knew?

By the end of the stabbing spree Petite!Yan looked at his deed, clothes and skin drenched in blood. Petite!Yan’s work wasn’t done but he was surprised with how he felt at this moment, he honestly thought he would be panicking more. But all he had on his mind was what came next in this plan and how he would have you all to himself again. He took the shovel from his car and started to dig, deep enough to his satisfaction. Climbing out of the hole he checked the boy for a pulse, when he felt none he shoved the body into the hole before covering it up with dirt again. By the time that Petite!Yangot home, he was exhausted and collapsed on his bed. 

Days turned into weeks, everyone was wondering where the boy was. His family came forward and pleaded on the news. The friend group was devastated, which especially included you. Petite!Yan hated seeing you like this, but took up the role of your comfort provider without a moment's hesitation. Making sure you still ate, drank and showered regularly. The study group disbanded for now and you didn’t feel up to going to the cooking club but Petite!Yan still came over to check in on you. You might not know it now, but his tactic of comforting you was working. He was becoming the rock that held your life together in this trying time, making sure you still had food in your stomach and giving you a space to talk about your mental state openly with him. Eventually, he’ll have you in his grasp fully. He was willing to play the long game, because once you are his, you are never escaping.

[moonrisecoeur]

soothing - leon kennedy

a/n: (PLEASE READ) hey! this is moon! this post would not show up in the tags with the long and detailed warning i put on it, so i made that a separate post. please read this post first before you even look at this one (that post will have the normal info like what content is it and word count along with more notes).

—

leon knows you’re… obsessive. he’s noticed your harsh glares and you possessively holding his waist when you’re both out together. he doesn’t miss the way you talk to other people, especially other people you know would theoretically be leon’s type. he assures you that he’s yours, he belongs to you, that no one will never get to have him the way you do, but it doesn’t make those feelings go away for you; it only mellows them for a short while.

he can’t say he planned for his partner to be so insanely obsessed with him, but it does make him feel better sometimes. especially when he’s having really rough days. when he feels worthless, like the only purpose of his existence is to be a weapon for the government to apathetically throw at problems, you’re there. you remind him, in your own twisted little way, that he’s valuable to someone. even if it’s in a “i need you like i need oxygen so no one else can ever have you and no one else deserves to lay a finger on you i will cut their hands off if they try” kinda way.

the world is fucked up anyway, who’s to say he gets to judge moral character? you make him feel desired and wanted, so what if you’re not a good person?

he’s rather introverted anyway, so it’s not like he’s going out every night and meeting new people. combine that with low self esteem and trauma from, well, being leon, he’s drained and can’t be bothered to care if you’re a little too obsessed.

hell, his last ‘relationship’, if you could call it that, was with a girl who tricked and betrayed him time after time and yet he loved her despite it all. maybe he has a type for the bad ones.

he loves you now. he knows he loves you. he knew he loved you when you once risked everything to save him, and he knew you loved him when you got very brutal revenge on his behalf. he kinda likes your violent side when it works in his favor.

but he still tries to keep you from doing the worst that he knows you’re capable of. he knows if he said more than a few words, or god forbid smiled at any of his friends who you thought ‘wanted him’ (because why does literally everyone want to fuck him?) you’d lose it. he tries to keep your temper contained, so he plays nice, though it’s worth it to him.

to have someone want him so badly that they’d kill for him and do anything to keep him… the idea makes leon’s knees weak. he’d do anything to feel wanted and needed for you. the more you claim him as yours, marking your territory, the more butterflies he feels in his stomach.

you tell someone, “he’s mine, so either back off or i swear that i will fucking rip out your teeth one by one.” he watches them run away pitifully, before turning his attention back to you. you’re smiling at him, and bring your hand up to play with his hair.

“sorry you had to see that, know you don’t like it,” you say softly.

he brushes it off, because he always does. he knows you mean well (even if you don’t). he knows you only threaten others or act violently because you love him and he needs that love. besides, you’re so thoughtful for apologizing because you know he doesn’t like seeing this side of you (which is not entirely true but he did feel bad for that person).

one day, you stumble upon him in your shared room while he’s crying. he tells you it’s okay, it happens, he’s learned how to get through it by himself. you shake your head, noting that this obviously isn’t okay. you sit next to him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him, and you two sit like that for just a moment.

“you’re okay,” your voice stills the air, brings him back to reality, “you’re not in danger, and i’m gonna be here to protect you, okay? i’m here because i care about you, so let me care for you, baby.”

he nods with tears in his eyes, resting his head on your shoulder. he’s forgotten what it feels like for someone to really care, to hold him and tell him he was going to be alright.

after a moment, he’s able to get his breathing under control.

“thank you…” he whispers.

“of course, baby, i’m here for you. i’m always gonna be here for you, i care about you so, so much, leon. no one else will ever care for you the way i do, as much as i do,” you murmur, and he doesn’t seem to notice something glaringly wrong with what you just said.

he doesn’t notice the thoughts swirling around in your head, adoring how fragile he is right now, wanting him to always be like this so he’s always this vulnerable, this dependent on you. he can’t notice any of it. he just lets you hold him, and holds you back in return.

you hold each other until he starts to pull away first, rubbing his teary eyes with the back of his hand, “god, i- i’m sorry. jeez, nothing even set it off. one minute i- i was fine! and the next…” he trails off, and you tell him he’s okay. he’s allowed to be vulnerable and emotional with you. you like him like this anyway. or maybe you just like the way his blue eyes shine when he cries.

and you’re wayyy too overpowering just as a person for him to ever be in charge, especially in bed. sometimes it’ll be soft, just two lovers touching and fondling each other, gasping and moaning and kissing wherever possible. but sometimes your possessive side comes out. it happens the most when he does something you don’t like, i.e. ‘flirting’ with someone else (he was just talking and joking around).

he does like your possessive side though. he likes being pinned down, and if you think you’re not strong enough, trust me, you can put yourself in the right position to make it so he can’t get out from under you. or you could just handcuff him or tie him up, that always works, but there is just something about being physically held down and kissed until his brain shuts off that makes him into a perfect fucktoy.

he likes when you pull out a marker and write stuff like ‘mine <3’ or ‘property of y/n’ on him. especially if it’s with a permanent marker and in a place that people can easily see, on his wrist or neck. he feels claimed, owned, a sense of being property belonging to someone else, not himself.

despite loving your darkness, leon appreciates that you’re rather… soft on him. you take it slow so he has time to adjust, make his heart jump with love and affection every single time you praise him (which you do often bc how could you not? it’s leon, c’mon now) he knows you have it in you to be harder, to fully degrade and humiliate him if you really wanted to. you choose not to.

one day you come home, covered in what he can assume is not your blood. his stomach drops at the thought of what you did, and he goes through every possible interaction he had that day that could have made you do something so drastic, so terrible and cruel. he comes up with nothing.

“what… happened?” he asks, nervously. he tries to keep distance between his body and yours, but you’re closing in on him.

“killed two birds with one stone… literally…” you smirked as he takes a cautious step back, feeling what used to be butterflies in his stomach turn to this heavy sense of dread, “that girl that told you your eyes were ‘so pretty’ and… that guy that touched your arm like he wanted to fucking bite it. don’t worry, sweetheart. i took care of them.”

were you expecting him to thank you? for… committing murder? he’s… at best he’s disappointed and at worst he’s literally horrified.

and it’s terribly timed, but on a separate note? you look insanely hot covered in blood. maybe the feeling in his stomach is only half fear and half something else, or maybe one of his kinks is being afraid for his life. who knows?

you come closer to him, and he can’t find it in himself to ask you to stop approaching him, closing in on him like a predator does it’s prey, “baby,” you murmur to him, softly like you do when you’re soothing him when he’s crying, your hands both coming up to cup his face, getting blood all over his cheeks. your thumb brushes against his bottom lip and he swears you’re intentionally smearing blood on it, ���it’s okay,” you say.

it’s not okay, dude. you just killed two people.

maybe you’ve killed more that leon doesn’t know about, and tonight was the night you felt like having him see you like this. you could have gotten away with it if you wanted to, and he would never have known, but you chose to let him find you like this, clothes ruined from how much blood splattered on them, that sadistic ass smile on your face.

you wanted this. you wanted him to see you like this. you wanted to take him like this.

you lean in, pressing a bloody kiss to his forehead (imagine whatever kinda scenario necessary that fits this height wise for u i’m sorry >.<) before leaning in to kiss his lips, both tasting the iron and feeling the wetness of the blood dripping down your chins as he touches you back gently, his hands caressing your arms as you hold him and landing softly on your hips, like he’s saying it’s okay, i accept you for the monster you are.

he knows it’s wrong, he knows he’s a good person and you’re not and there’s a clear line that you’ve brazenly crossed, but he can’t help the butterflies he gets when you’re the darkest, cruelest version of you. covered in blood and all, you want him. despite all his flaws, you want him. he can’t deny you, not when you’ve only ever soothed him when he has traumatized breakdowns and assured him that he’s more than just a weapon or a tool, that he’s loved and needed and wanted.

you press one of your legs between his thighs, forcing his legs open and he lets you, whining as you continue to kiss him, and your hand palms him over his jeans. he feels weak, cornered, and you know you’ve got him right where you want him when you lean to whisper in his ear, “mine.” and he whimpers pathetically, nodding fast as you kiss his neck just a couple times, gently and bloodily.

despite everything, you’re just so endlessly gentle with him that he can’t help but let you get away with this. maybe if he could just get the image of their faces out of his head, he could get over it. once you’ve made him cum three times in a row, his body on the brink of giving out on him, safe to say that’s when he finally forgets. he can’t really think much of anything.

“oh, sweet little thing, don’t you understand? i had to get rid of her, she wanted to get in the way of our love,” you say. and he’d just nod dazedly.

“o-okay,” he mumbles. his brain is foggy and your touch makes it hard to think, but if you say it’s true, then he’s inclined to believe you. clearly, you were doing the right thing by getting rid of her. obviously.

“and that poor boy, it’s too bad that he was a whore, wanted to grope your muscles so fucking bad, hm?” you smirk, “did you like it when he did that? when he touched you?”

“n-no, i-i only like when you do stuff like that to me,” he says he exactly what you want to hear, grasping onto you for support, knowing without you he’d fall apart, “please, i don’t care what you do or… or who you hurt because you love me! just please love me!”

“of course i’ll love you,” your tone softens, you take the victory with a smirk turned soft smile, brushing his hair out of his eyes behind his ear, “you’re so pretty when you’re obedient.”

conditional praise; truly the best way to manipulate him for example: “you’re such a good boy when you only look at me.” that’s his kryptonite, because leon thrives off of praise. being told he’s a good boy makes him giddy on the inside, even if he tries to control his reaction. praise is how you control him.

and after you’re done with him, you put your clothes in the washing machine, take a shower, and walk out like your normal self. he makes you both dinner and you cuddle him to sleep just like usual. though while you’re fast asleep, he lays awake, thinking about what just happened.

he’s always known this could happen, and maybe this isn’t even the first time you’ve killed someone because of him. he’s known for a while now that you’ve become cruel and violent when it came to his relationships with other people, but he can’t shake the feeling of fear deep inside his soul when he physically saw what you’re capable of.

even in your sleep, you touch is soothing to him, and he remembers that he doesn’t really have any better options. he’s convinced no one will ever love him as strongly as you do (not just because you’ve told him that but because again, he’s got low self esteem and you’re way nicer to him than he feels like he deserves).

does he just let you be? no, that wouldn’t sit right on his conscious. does he continue to try and curb your violent tendencies against his better judgement and morals?

or does he try to leave you? he thinks he knows you wouldn’t ever truly hurt him, and he wonders whether or not you’d let him leave if he tried. (he’s not going to, but he wonders...) he just… doesn’t see what else he would do. find someone else? they won’t love him like you do. be single? sure, and be miserable every day because all he can think about is your love, your touch, you.

“what do i do with you…” he mumbles to your sleeping form, resting his head against your chest, feeling the slow heartbeat pumping inside. he likes how it shows your humanity, your normalcy. the one thing about you that doesn’t feel so far away from him.

leon loves you. truly. he doesn’t want that fact to be overshadowed by how disproportionately and insanely you love him. he loves you, still cares about you, still wants to see you happy. you make him happy, in some ways, even if you really terrify him in others. you comfort him and soothe him, you assure him that he’s safe with he wakes up with nightmares from the horrors he’s seen.

he wants to care for you, wants to be the one to hold you when you’re sad and you’re having a bad day. somewhere deep inside his heart, he wants to protect you and keep you safe. even if he knows that’s absurd (because you’re a killer… god he can’t get over that..) he can’t help that his nature is to care for people. maybe that’s what drove you to such insanity in your love for him: in his heart, he never stopped caring about other people. he is the same selfless hero he always was. his softness and care for everyone around him is what made you fall for him… and what made you insane when it comes to your love for him.

despite how terrible you are, he remembers all that you’ve done for him, the moments where your softness and gentleness really showed. he loves that side of you the most. that’s the one he fell for, after all. but he’d be amiss to think that’s the only side of you, or to not acknowledge the other. your cruelty towards people other than him is a side of you just like your kindness towards him is a side of you. they coexist whether he likes it or not.

he comes to the conclusion that there is no sweet you without cruel you, and he must learn to love both or to love neither. he decides he’ll love both, but still maybe try to keep the evilness contained. maybe he can try to talk you out of killing more people.

and when he begs so pretty for you to focus on him and not on the girl trying to flirt with him at the coffee shop, how could you refuse him? if you pulling him away to suck dark, tender hickeys into his neck is the alternative to you killing that poor girl, then he’d say that’s a win-win.

[isaadleer]

Hola! I don't know if requests are open, but could you make a drabble where young! Arthur teaches a young reader how to shoot and how to ride a horse? She's a newcomer to the gang and has a little crush on Arthur; which only intensifies if he gets close to her.

hii sweetie!! tysm for your request, i loved your idea so much, so here it is!!!!! i did something really basic and short but even so i still liked, maybe i could do a part two 🤭 but i always say that and don’t do it, so i don’t know… i hope you liked <3

————————————————————————

shy shots

summary: Young! Arthur found young! fem character trying to learn how to shoot and he decides to help her. pairing: Young Arthur x Young fem character. words: 1836

On the sunny morning, the sun shone intensely against your eyes, causing the rays of light to disturb your vision. The trees swayed slightly with the gentle breeze, and your hair flew in rhythm with the leaves. The sound of a distant gramophone echoed through the camp where you had been staying for a few months since you were saved from an attempted robbery by a few thieves.

-

During a harsh winter in the mountains north of West Elizabeth, you were in dire conditions after the death of your father. Even though he was a violent and bitter man, he always returned with some food at the end of the day, which helped back then, but no longer, as you now didn't know how to hunt on your own.

At the same time, the Van der Linde gang had been camped in an isolated area. With life’s challenges, Dutch decided to explore the surroundings in search of supplies or opportunities that could benefit the group. He rode until he heard a muffled sound in the distance that made him stop. Driven by curiosity and suspicion, Dutch followed the noise until he reached your old wooden cabin, partially covered by snow, visibly worn by time. As he approached, Dutch noticed two men trying to break down the cabin door. Inside, you, an 18-year-old girl, were trying, with all the strength you had left, to defend yourself from the invaders.

Seeing that you were about to succumb, Dutch decided to intervene. He drew his gun and shot the thieves before they could even look him in the eye, leaving you alone and terrified inside the cabin. After the action, Dutch approached you. He moved cautiously upon seeing you curled up in a corner, wounded and wide-eyed with fear. The cabin was cold, almost without furniture, and there was little food in sight, all indicating that you had lived in poor conditions for some time. In a softer, but still firm voice, Dutch reassured you. He offered help, saying no one should go through that alone. You, hesitant and distrustful, initially resisted trusting a stranger, especially someone who had just blown the heads off two men in your home. However, Dutch's natural charisma and his promise of safety began to break down your resistance.

Dutch told you about the gang, describing it as a family, something you had lost a long time ago. He offered you the chance to join them, at least until you recovered and decided what you wanted to do with your life. With few options and nowhere else to go, still stunned by the situation, you accepted the offer.

Dutch then placed you on his horse and took you back to the gang’s camp, where you were met with a mixture of distrust and compassion. Dutch became a father figure to you during that time, comforting you over the loss of your biological father. As you tried to adapt to your new reality, you began to realize that maybe this unlikely gang was the family you had never had, even though you still weren’t sure if that was truly what you wanted.

During the months you spent with the gang, you tried to redeem yourself in any way you could, grateful for having been saved, by cooking, chopping vegetables, or cleaning the camp. The gang didn’t have many members, just Dutch, Hosea Matthews, Susan Grimshaw, and Arthur Morgan, who was the only one closer to your age.

You had a slight crush on Arthur, which made you watch him around the camp, when he arrived with his horse or when he chopped wood, showing off his muscles pressing against his shirt, or when he spoke to his horse affectionately. Even though you knew there was no reason to be jealous of a horse, he somehow made you feel that way. Arthur was probably about two years older than you, but his skills in the criminal life made him appear a bit older since you didn’t even know how to use a revolver.

And so, you found yourself that morning a little away from the camp, in front of some glass bottles, with Hosea’s revolver borrowed in your hands. You fired a few times and couldn’t hit anything. The next time, the same, and the next, again no success. Even without experience with guns, you didn’t realize it was this hard. The sound of the shots from the revolver hurt your ears, as you weren’t used to such loud noises.

Silent footsteps blended with the noise of the shots, making you turn around in worry, as you were a little away from camp. But when you turned, already pointing the revolver at whoever it was, you found Arthur standing in front of you.

“Are you gonna shoot me with that thing?” he said jokingly, though also a little nervous with the gun pointed at his face.

He wore a white shirt with a yellow vest, his traditional hat, and a black bandana wrapped around his neck. His blonde hair made your heart stop, every detail of him made you feel like having a heart attack every passing day.

Realizing he wasn’t a threat, you lowered the gun, embarrassed by your reaction. "If I could shoot with this thing, maybe I would," you joked, venting your frustration with your lack of skills.

He looked around, seeing the bottles without even a scratch, and realizing you had been trying to shoot them.

"How is that working out?" he asked, pointing to the bottles in front of you.

"Well, let's just say I’m not the best shooter I’ve seen," you turned, trying to point the gun at one of the bottles again. "But I’m trying." Then, you fired, trying to aim at the glass bottle, but again without success.

"Well, I wasn’t the best shooter either, but with time, it gets better," he tried to comfort you. "Look…" He approached from behind, trying to help. "You gotta..." he raised his arm, trying to position you correctly, "hold steady..." his hands found your shoulders, sending chills through your body from the closeness. "And firm," he added, increasing the pressure of his hands on your shoulders. "You just focus…" he said in a low tone near your ear, his warm breath against your cold skin. "Breathe slowly," he spoke again. You raised your arm and pointed the revolver at the bottles again, and inhaled as he instructed, but your attempt to stay calm failed, as Arthur's proximity made you tremble from head to toe. "And always pull the trigger on empty lungs." Then he exhaled with you, trying to help you concentrate, but little did he know that the more he talked, the more nervous you became. "Now, try again," he said, removing his hands from your shoulders, making you miss the weight of his touch.

Even so, you straightened your back and pulled the trigger again, but now following Arthur’s instructions. "Wait to breathe out, wait to breathe out…" you whispered to yourself, trying to reinforce your actions. Then you fired again, and the sound echoed through the trees around you. During the noise of the shot, you closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, the bottle you aimed at was no longer standing on the tree stump, only shards of glass remained on the forest floor. "Did you see that? I did it, I did it right, Arthur!?" you were almost jumping with happiness. "I haven’t hit one bottle the entire morning," you said with a mixture of laughter and relief, as it was your first time hitting anything.

Arthur watched you, happy and smiling with your achievement, and couldn’t help but smile along with you. "Not bad! You’re a natural!" he praised you, drawing more smiles from you.

His words made your heart warm, making you fall even more in love with him, even though you thought it wasn’t possible. "Good girl, you’re not that bad like you said." Looking into your eyes intensely, he said.

"Don't be a fool, this is the first time this whole morning," you corrected him, feeling your cheeks heat up from his compliments.

Arthur looked at you with a confused expression, but also with a slight smile on his lips. "I’m serious," he insisted, his voice softer now but still full of sincerity. "Even with my help, you’re really good at this." He reaffirmed, making your heart race even faster.

"Thank you..." you murmured, feeling your cheeks now turn red, but very happy with the unexpected compliments.

"Now..." Arthur began, getting serious again. "We need to go back to camp. It's not safe to make this much noise with you out here alone."

“Okay…” you replied, still a bit embarrassed but obedient.

You would always obey Arthur, anything he said. Anything he asked, you would do—comfort him after a failed job, clean his clothes, or tend to his wounds. Your heart was entirely his, even without realizing it, you were already completely in love with Arthur Morgan.

During the way back to camp, the silence between you two was comfortable, but you couldn’t help but glance at him from time to time. Arthur, with his calm demeanor and the way he handled everything around him, seemed like the most secure man in the world. The wind made his hair fly in a way that you found incredibly charming. At times, you noticed his eyes on you, and when your gazes met, both of you smiled briefly, as if sharing a secret.

After a few short minutes, you arrived at camp. Arthur turned to you and said, with a slight hint of shyness in his voice, "It’d be a pleasure to help you again, if you want." He rested his hands on his belt, trying to ease the anxiety of fidgeting with his fingers.

Without hesitation and with a smile on your face, you quickly replied, "Of course I would, Arthur..." You took a step toward him, and with all the courage you had left, you thanked him with a quick kiss on Arthur's cheek, which instantly blushed. He smiled, an embarrassed smile, as he brought his hand to his face where your lips had touched.

"Now I need to go back and help Miss Grimshaw," you said, trying to hide the smile that insisted on appearing. "See you around, Arthur." You waved briefly before turning to walk away.

"Yeah... I need to... hum... I need to feed Copper too..." Arthur tried to speak, but you were already too far away to hear, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

As you returned to camp, you couldn’t stop smiling like a fool. Susan Grimshaw, who was busy organizing the day’s tasks, noticed your unusual expression and asked, somewhat suspiciously, "Are you alright, girl?"

"Of course!" you replied, laughing in happiness.

Susan frowned, confused. It wasn’t common for you to smile for no reason. Maybe she thought you were going crazy, but, in reality, maybe that was it—you were crazy for Arthur Morgan.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

This is a request but like

SaneMitsu. But female Sanemi and male Mitsuri.

Basically genderbend

Cause I saw a super adorable fanart of it and I cannot get the idea off of my head but rn I dont have time to write (I'm killing mosquitoes rn) so Im asking the best kny writer on tumblr I know

didnt know what to write bc writing genderbends aaalways trips me up but ill try 🙏 keeping their actual names otherwise it gets infinitely more confusing <- maeda (the tailor) is still the same (gender) ! (its wwaay to confusing as is IMSORRY)

Unlike most of the women of the Corps, Sanemi had chosen the design she got for her uniform. Granted, she hadn’t expected the skirt rather than the pants she had so clearly asked for. But she dealt with it, not really in the mood to ask for her original request. Of course, that only lasted so long. After receiving a replacement for her uniform—which had torn on one of her missions—she found the skirt about four or so inches shorter than it had been before. She had noticed, prior, that it seemed to like shrinking whenever she got it back. But this was fucking ridiculous and she was ready to kill. Which was unfortunately forbidden in the Corps—but nobody said anything about threatening, right?

After getting the unnecessary advice from Tengen—whom she’d run into while collecting her clothes—she stalked back go Maeda with the slowly rising fury. She had never minded the little boob window her uniform provided—she’s asked for that, actually—but this stupid skirt would do nothing to give the protection the uniform was supposed to give. Sanemi found herself wondering if Maeda was secretly a traitor with the intention to kill off all the women by making clothing that did the opposite it was supposed to. She would honestly not be surprised if that was it.

Upon reaching the room she had been directed to as the one Maeda worked in, she kicked the door open and stepped inside. Before she had the chance to put in words the irritation he was inconveniencing her with, she stopped short, realizing someone else was also in the room. It was the newest Hashira—Mitsuri Kanroji. Who stood there, surprised at the sudden entrance.

Maeda stood beside Mitsuri, writing down what Sanemi assumed to be the requested uniform design. No doubt Mitsuri would get exactly what he asked for.

Deciding that she didn’t care if there was audience, Sanemi stalked up to Maeda and snatched the clipboard from his hands. Maeda squeaked—stupidly—and scrambled to get it back. Sanemi held it tauntingly above her head, dancing away from his reach.

“I need that,” Maeda tried. “Do you need anything? Could you wait until I finish with Kanroji-sama?”

“It’s not like you’re going to do what he asks though, right?” Sanemi taunted, her lips curled in a scowl.

Mitsuri took the clipboard from Sanemi, frowning. “Be nice,” he said, as if Sanemi were some toddler learning manners. “He didn’t do anything.”

“Not to you, no.” Sanemi shot him a glare, holding up the skirt and shoving it in Mitsuri’s face. “Look at this! What the fuck is this? At this point, it’s a goddamn belt!”

Mitsuri leaned back slightly, trying to look at what Sanemi was waving in the air. He took a moment to comprehend it, confused. “Is that… a skirt?”

“Yes. Supposedly part of my uniform,” Sanemi snapped. “Even when I asked for some fucking pants. But no. And before, at least, this was longer. Now it covers absolutely nothing!”

Mitsuri appeared to be having conflicting emotions, hesitating before speaking. He turned to Maeda as he spoke, gently taking the skirt and examining it. “Is this really… what you made for Shinazugawa-san? It’s not very proper for her,” he said slowly, his frown reappearing.

Sanemi felt slightly better seeing Mitsuri on her side. Mitsuri seemed like the type to want everything all rainbows and laughter, so seeing him lecture someone else for a change (he didn’t like Sanemi’s ‘attitude’) was satisfying. Especially as Maeda cowered slightly, finally getting the hint that he’d fucked up.

“Well- Maybe it… shrank?” Maeda said doubtfully. Fucking bastard.

“I didn’t even ask for a skirt,” Sanemi snarled. She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at the tailor. She had to admit, this would be funny. Especially if Mitsuri decided to scold Maeda. Which he did.

“Even if it did shrink from what you originally, made, it isn’t very kind of you to give her what she didn’t ask for! Besides, I believe that pants are more protective than skirts, and it would be nice of you to help us with our job to protect others! We all have important roles in the Corps and yours is to make the clothing, right? But if we aren’t fit into the clothes that would benefit us more, then other things could go wrong! Shinazugawa-san is a very talented Hashira, but I believe that not having the proper protection for her skin would hinder her ability to protect others if her own body is open to so many places she could easily get injured. If you issued the same clothing to any of the Hashira, they would all tell you that it isn’t ideal to receive something with the means for only appearance when they’re trusting you to make them something that would protect them,” Mitsuri ranted, hands poised on his hips as he spoke. He huffed, handing Maeda his clipboard back. “I don’t want to pressure you, but it’s truly disrespectful to give this”—he held up the skirt—“to someone who has done nothing but protect! Please give Shinazugawa-san the right clothing before proceeding with mine.”

Sanemi wasn’t quite listening to Mitsuri, having grown a bit bored of it half way through, so she focused on Maeda’s expression that was morphing into some sort of embarrassment, if not quite shame. She resisted the urge to laugh as Maeda quickly took the clipboard and nodded. Probably deciding he didn’t want to deal with two angry Hashira.

“Yes- Okay,” Maeda said quickly. He didn’t look quite sorry, but at least he might refrain from repeating his actions for a while. “I’ll do it.”

“Do you need my measurements?” Sanemi asked.

“No. I have them from last time.”

“So you did measure her for them? You just decided not to follow your directions?” Mitsuri prompted, looking even more upset.

Sanemi grinned, eager to rouse the fire. “Yeah, maybe we should have you replaced or something. Or, maybe not. We should just report this to Oyakata-sama. I’m sure you’d learn your lesson then.”

Mitsuri agreed, nodding. “I agree.”

Maeda shook his head quickly. “No, no, I’ll do what you asked. I’ll do it.”

“Good. But I’m more than willing to send a crow to Master if it’s too much work,” Sanemi suggested.

Maeda interrupted him, shaking his head with much vigor. “No need! No need—it’s fine, I’ll do it.”

Sanemi smirked as Maeda left to hopefully go remake the uniform. Then she turned to Mitsuri, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” Mitsuri asked. She handed the skirt back but Sanemi just threw it aside for whoever came back into the room.

“I think we should’ve just punched him,” Sanemi said.

“No! That’s going too far.”

“Yeah, well, I’m holding him accountable for all of the injuries on my legs since I got the skirt.” She absentmindedly rubbed her thigh where a bandage was wrapped around a wound from a couple days ago. “I’m sure it could’ve been prevented if he wasn’t such a perverted asshole.”

“Let’s not- Let’s not speak badly about him, now…” Mitsuri mumbled, though he resisted a smile.

Sanemi pointed at the skirt. Mitsuri sighed.

“Just don’t hurt him. Please?”

“Fine.”

•••

Sanemi had, luckily, gotten her uniform back as she’d originally wanted it. The next time she saw Mitsuri—which wasn’t actually until the next Hashira meeting—she showed her, a bit pleased. Mitsuri equally seemed happy for Sanemi. Sanemi, who had decided that maybe Mitsuri wasn’t quite so annoying, ended up talking to him for a while longer. The other Hashira appeared vastly surprised by this, all used to Sanemi’s hostile act towards, well, everyone. And then Sanemi and Mitsuri started dating blah blah I have no ideas.

guys pls be more specific w requests i neber know what to write 😔

[am-i-interrupting]

Hiiiiii! How about Husk x Skvader (Winged bunny) reader? I think the dynamics would be really interesting, since bunnies are usually prey animals and cats are predators.

Bonus points if they are too sweet for their own good, which got them stuck on a deal with alastor just as he is.

If you need more directions, maybe angst, centered around being trapped together under the same man, and comforting each other in a solidarity kind of way? (Maybe reader comforting him after that scene in season 1 - where he shakes on the ground)

Warning: addiction mention

Husk vaguely knew you for years, decades even. You’d both been contracted for Alastor. You longer than him.

He didn’t get to know you until after Alastor moved himself and his favorite souls into the Hotel.

It’s partially because he didn’t care enough to know you and also because when he was around you, you were either glued to Alastor’s side or Niffty’s. You sort of stayed in the shadows in both their vibrant personalities.

Quickly, he learned why you were one of Alastor’s favorites.

Not only did you make Alastor look more intimidating by contrast but also, you were just so damn kind hearted.

Alastor liked the odd souls among Hell and you were definitely one of them.

You were in charge of event management which meant you worked extra close with Charlie. The two of you got on better than two peas in a pod.

Husk overheard some of Charlie’s frankly awful ideas and praised you silently for making them more bearable.

Still, he didn’t really get to know you until you ended up drunk at the bar. It’s how he got to know everyone.

It tugged on his heartstrings when he learned how you got contracted.

You had been trying to recover from an addiction when you relapsed and ended up in Hell. Then you were suddenly surrounded by your addictions but every time you indulged you felt worse. At your lowest is when Alastor found you. He scooped you up in a contract and provided you with a place to actually recover.

(Which proves that Alastor could actually be doing a hell of a lot more than he was for the Hotel but Husk wasn’t going to say that)

That’s why you were so quiet. Afraid of temptation grabbing hold of you again if you spoke to the regular citizens of hell.

That’s when it clicked why Alastor wanted you clean when he found you and why you always seemed so upset when Husk had been around you previously. Alastor only called upon you for things involving drugs. He called upon you to watch you struggle and Husk to watch him indulge. Sick fuck.

It made since why it took several months for Husk to get to know you the way he knew everyone else. You avoided the bar (and by proxy him) because you were scared of overindulging.

Until that night. Until you came up to the bar with drooping ears and wings, asking Husk to make you something mild. Just enough to forget whatever made you so upset on that phone call you took.

Husk actually made an effort to get out from behind the bar then.

He saw you put so much time and effort into the denizens of the Hotel, someone should put that effort back into you.

He actually put some true sincerity into those exercises you and Charlie came up with and found himself growing found of you.

Of course, he didn’t realize this until you came to the bar again some other night and he told you no. He came out from behind it and grabbed your hand.

“Let’s try something else,” he told you.

He pulled you in for a hug and actually started purring, voluntarily.

You melted into his embrace and pressed your face against his chest. He could feel your ears brush against his face before they relaxed.

When Alastor made his power play, you knew something was wrong when Husk came back downstairs.

You pulled yourself away from Mimzy and discretely made your way to him.

With a wing draw up to give you two privacy, you asked him what happened. He didn’t say anything but his hand was at the base of his neck.

You guided him to his room.

For a moment, you hovered, not sure whether to stay or go. When his breathing finally evened out. You decided to not overstay your welcome.

“Wait,” he said, voice sounded strangled, “can you—?”

You went over to the bed he was sitting on, hunched over, and simply stayed beside him.

Eventually he plopped down on the bed, wings spread out across the mattress.

You looked back at him, using one hand to prop yourself up. He was rubbing at his neck.

“Do you want me to leave now?” “No. “Okay.”

Eventually, you fell asleep. You on top of him, his arms wrapped around you, one between the downy fur of your ears, you face providing a gentle pressure against his neck, your wings tangled together.

You knew better than to ask either Alastor or Husk what happened.

The two of you ended up closer after that night.

After that night, Husk’s hand would ideally go to between your ears.

Angel teased you about it all the time, knowing if he went to Husk it’d stop. Charlie thought it was adorable.

The night before the battle, Husk offered to groom your wings.

It started with his gently prying out any loose feathers. Then his claws carded through your hair. You leaned into his touch, so gentle on your scalp despite the danger of his claws.

“Don’t you die on me tomorrow.” “Well, then you’ll have to do the same. Now turn around.”

Husk was very tense at first. He didn’t even seem to breathe but eventually he calmed. You heard a gentle purr fill the room.

It was the last thing you heard from him before the battle began.

When it was over and everyone was collecting their own, he sought you out.

“See, I didn’t die on you.”

He’d never seen you fight before. He’d never even seen you angry. You always handled things with such kind consideration but now you were drenched in angels’ blood.

“No, no, you didn’t.”

He surprised you by placing his hand between your wings and pulling you close to him. He placed a kiss between your ears and laughed to himself when they fell backwards in shock.

[footballffbarbiex]

player: Rúben Dias words: 2.8k type: angst

Let's fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later

If she's got blue eyes, I will surmise that you'll probably date her

You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor

You search in every model's bed for something greater

Everything you were learning about Rúben is completely against your will and though you’re trying to not let it get under your skin and bury deep into your muscles, you still feel any and all nuggets of information grating against your nerves. So it doesn’t surprise you when your best friend opens her mouth and says “he’s been spotted with another model.” but it does feel like salt is being rubbed onto those nerves too. 

“Of course he has,” it comes out a little more bitterly than you’d intended and so you swallow some wine instead to stop yourself from saying anything else that you might regret. 

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what she looks like.” she continues, observing you over the rim of her own glass before she takes a small drink herself. 

It’s started to become a running joke for the two of you. You weren’t good enough for Rúben but he was happy to date every woman that remotely resembles you after you. It was a kick in the teeth each time you were faced with another photo of him and his latest beau and a mere mention of someone new feels like a slap. 

“Kurt wants to know if you’ll come to dinner on Wednesday.” She changes the subject, knowing that this is a sore spot but it was better that she told you now than being sent it by someone else who believes they’re doing you a favour while not being considerate of your feelings at all. 

“No.” You say a little too quickly. 

Kurt was one of Rúben’s best friends and if he was hosting a dinner party, then your ex would be there too. You felt suffocated at the best of times merely seeing his name via google or instagram, let alone being made to share the same four walls and a table with the man. 

Ex feels too strongly of a word considering you’d barely got past the dating stage. Rúben refused to put a label on the two of you and while you weren’t usually one for wanting them, you did try to ask him where you stood in the situationship. Especially because you were catching feelings, fast and hard and the idea of him not wanting to commit to you pained you more than it scared you. Ultimately, Rúben ended the … situation due to ‘commitment issues’, but had no issues with finding the ability to do so with other people. 

“He was invited initially but according to their match fixtures, they have an away Champions League game.” She comments, drumming her fingers on the side of the glass in a beat that you almost recognise. 

“I applaud your extensive research before coming to me with Kurt’s invitation.” 

“I knew you’d back out almost immediately otherwise -”

“And I did.” 

She hums in agreement. 

“At least consider it? I’d love to see you there anyway.” 

_

You’ve checked and checked and checked again more times than you wanted to admit that Rúben absolutely was out of the country ready for the game tomorrow. With no updates regarding rotations or suspensions from previous games, you’d found it “safe” to leave the comfort of your home and make your way to Kurt’s. 

Having Rúben end the relationship had meant that he’d won the monopoly of the friends that you’d made being in his circle, and one of them that you had joint custody over was Kurt. Caring, funny and incredibly supportive, Kurt was everything in a person that you wish you’d found in a friend years previously. Nights at his were never boring and he was the one person you truly felt you could be around and trust not to bring up him in conversation. 

By the time he’d opened the front door, you could smell a light warming scent drifting from one of the hallway candles which was quickly swallowed up as you approached the kitchen. If you were peckish upon arrival, then as dinner was being plated up half an hour later, you were famished. Your bestie was still due to arrive thanks to being stuck in traffic both on the way home from work and also after leaving the house. Other mutual friends who you were familiar enough with to interact with but not enough to really talk to are here too. 

Bottles of wine and water are on the table along with small baskets of bread and butter which are snatched up by those sitting around you. Several people are still due to arrive, so the amount of empty spaces isn’t bothering you too much, though you do reserve the one next to you for her. 

You’re cutting open a bread roll after smushing the butter into a spreadable consistency when your phone beeps and a i’m 5 mins away x text comes through and not for the first time this evening, you sigh a sigh of relief. 

-

You’re in the middle of the main course and half a glass of wine down as your bestie is telling you the latest drama from her office when voices in the hallway gets your attention and the voice that once made your stomach flip is now the reason for it dropping. Your head snaps to the head of the table at the opposite end to you and your eyes meet Kurt’s as the voice continues to speak with someone else. 

What is he doing here? You mouth a little too aggressively as panic begins to swirl in your stomach. Her fingers touch your arm to try and silently calm you but the more you think about it, the more you feed the dread. 

He isn’t supposed to be, is mouthed aggressively back. At least he’s met your energy. 

“It’s good to see you again,” comes his voice as he finally steps into the room. “Sorry I’m late.” He says as he finally addresses the room. 

The empty space opposite and one seat over now feels as though it’s mocking you. Though it’s not dressed for someone to sit in, you feel as though you should have known this was coming. 

“I’ll get you a plate.” Kurt is on his feet faster than you’d have liked him to be but you understand he cannot treat Rúben with disrespect purely because of you nor would you want him to. He gives your shoulder a squeeze as he passes and it’s only in that moment where you feel just how tense your muscles are.

You can hear your breathing coming out in shaky exhales but rather than looking around the table to see what other dinner guests are thinking. You don’t want to look up at the man who you’d held out your heart to. Sure, you’ve seen Rúben around, but not in such an intimate capacity like this. You’ve never had to sit opposite him and felt as though you’ve had to exchange pleasantries. You could, of course, ask to switch seats but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to you. 

When you lift your cutlery to begin to eat again, you note that your hands are shaking. You’d rather take a drink but now he’s here, you want as much of a clear mind as you can possibly have. He clouds your judgement far more than any alcohol ever could and he’s stayed in your system longer than any drugs ever would. 

Plate to mouth. Mouth to plate. Plate to mouth. You continue until you can’t think anymore.You ignore the sound of a chair being moved and pushed back under, a plateful of food being put down and cutlery clinking together. Talk still flows around the table but it sounds as though you’re listening from under water. Even now with impaired sound, it’s clear it’s become very strained since he came in. 

Questions are aimed in his direction and though you try to close off your hearing, you can still hear his replies. If he’s as worried as you are about this meeting, he’s not showing it. 

“Do you want this?” You ask your friend, gesturing to the glass. 

“Don’t you want it? What’s wrong with it?” 

“No, I don’t want it. I want something else.”

“I’m going for one,” James, who sits on the other side of you, says quietly. “I can get one for you too?” 

“That’d be great.” You give a small nod and try to give a smile, though you realise in this moment it appears pained. 

James was a good man, and someone who you could depend on for a light but long chat. He played the small talk game and he played it well. It wasn’t ever anything much but he gave you good reprieve when you needed it.

It’s not until he’s left the table and in turn, the room, that you remember there’s spare glasses and pitches of water with ice. Not wanting to seem rude, you leave him to get your drink, and busy yourself in pouring a cold glass of water. He returns as you’re taking tentative sips. 

“Mmm,” you hum to him to acknowledge that you’ve seen him as he takes his place back at your side while you finish your sips and place the water back on the table and turn to get the drink that Jamie offers you and give a little sniff.

“You remembered.” Small movements swirl the liquid around, ensuring that it’s fully mixed but before you can place it on the table next to the water, you hear 

“Might have remembered her drink but you’ve given an extra ice cube.” Your hand freezes as you listen. 

“Sorry?” Jamie says. He’s not sorry, it’s more of a chance for Rúben to retract his sentence. 

“She prefers two ice cubes not three. You’ve watered down her drink.” 

The statement seems to hang in the air between the three of you and when you finally look up, Rúben is looking right at you. 

“Thanks Jamie,” your smile is still pained but you give it anyway before taking a quick drink, followed by a deeper one seconds later. “I need some air.” you say quietly to no-one and everyone all at the same time. 

Kurt doesn’t fight to keep you at the table and instead, you notice the apologetic expression on his face as you all but flee the room and don’t stop until you’re pulling open the door that leads to the garden and step out. You gulp in the air as you close your eyes and try to clear your head. 

Everything had been so good up until then. You’d managed to keep your head down and was fully prepared to not only be civil with him but so sickly sweet he’d need an emergency trip to the dentist. 

“Fuck him,” you hiss, letting out some of your frustration under your breath. “Fuck. Him.” You repeat and follow it with a long groan. 

“I deserve that.” He says it so quickly, you barely have time to register that he’s said it at all, never mind the fact that he’s snuck up on you. Your heart pounds against your chest with such force, you can’t believe that he’s unable to hear it himself. 

“You have some nerve coming out here to me.”

“With you.” he corrects. 

You almost scoff at him as you turn to look at him properly for the first time since he arrived. “To me.” you stand your ground. “You decided a long time ago that you’d never step out with me.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What was that back there, Rúben? Seriously. “You watered down her drink.” you impersonate him. “You have no right to correct people on my details when you had no intention of sticking around.”

“So I can’t help?”

“I didn’t need your help. It was a drink. One that he’s made many times before and I’ve never felt the need to correct him before.”

“I just thought if he was making you one, he should make it how you like it.”

“You saw it as an unnecessary dick measuring competition.” You stare him down until he finally looks away. He doesn’t deny it and you knew he wouldn’t. Knew he couldn’t. 

“I didn’t think you’d be here.” Rúben tries a different tactic. 

“That’s the only reason I’m here because I didn’t think you would be.”

“The highs and lows of football.” He clicks his tongue and points to his thigh. “Felt something in my hamstring. Coach didn’t want to risk it.”

“Shouldn’t you be explaining this to your girlfriend and not me?” You hate that it slips out before you can stop it but you register the look on his face anyway. 

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Maybe not yet anyway,” you mutter it under your breath and try to push past him but he blocks your way. 

“What does that mean?”

“You weren’t ready for a relationship with me but you’re dating the closest possible thing you could find to what you really wanted but were too scared to go for.” And there it is. Months and months of conversations you’ve had with yourself as you’ve lay in bed and gone over everything that happened between you when you’ve had one too many drinks. All the rational, and irrational thinking had led to this moment. Finally putting out your theories to the one person who would either debunk or confirm them. 

You watch as he swallows hard and looks away, focusing his attention on almost anything but you. “You still can’t admit that you wanted me more than you let on, can you?”

“What difference would it make to hear it after all this time?” There’s almost a sadness in Rúben’s voice as he realises that it’s now or never to finally get to the bottom of it all. 

“Because I know I’m right about us.”

“So it’s about winning then for you,” he doesn’t word it as a question, it feels more of an accusation.

“No. It’s about needing to hear for the first time that what we had was real after months and years of you pretending that it wasn’t.”

“I never pretended.” He tries to justify his actions. “I never said that it didn’t feel real. That it was real.”

“I deserve to know that the only reason why we couldn’t have it all was because you were scared.”

His chest rises and falls as he breathes deeply, the muscle in his cheek twitches as he tries to think about what he needs to say. 

“I need to know why they were good enough but I wasn’t. Why date women who look like they could be me if you didn’t want me?” Your voice cracks and you hate that your eyes well up, hot tears now pearling at your lash line, threatening to spill over. You could kick yourself for allowing your emotions to get the better of you. 

“You were always good enough. Always. You knew that I wasn’t capable of giving you what you needed at the start. But I wanted to. I could see the life we could have had and I got inside my own head that I couldn’t live up to the version of me that you wanted. That you needed and that you deserved.”

“I’d have taken any version of you Rúben.”

“I know. And I didn’t want you to have one that wasn’t worth it at the time.”

“You hurt me.”

Three words that he’d known all this time, that he’d told himself enough times that he thought if he ever heard it from her, he’d be desensitised to it. But right here and now, he’s not. Hearing it slices into him in a way he couldn’t have predicted. 

“I know.”

“I wish that I could get over you.” you say as the tear spills in a hot streak down your cheek and drips from your chin. Another follows and another until you’re forced to wipe them away. 

“And I’m selfish enough to not want you to.”

“You’re doing a great job in trying to get me to move on though. Tell me. Where is she? At home waiting for you? Or did she have prior arrangements so she couldn’t come with you tonight?” 

“She’s probably at home. Her home.” He clarifies. “Turns out the reality of me is different to the fantasy. You’ll know about that better than anyone.”

“The reality was my fantasy. The only time you ever let me down was when you left me.”

“And if I wanted a chance to make it up to you? Would you let me?”

“I don’t know if I can trust myself to let you back in.”

“I deserve that,” he gives as much of a strained smile that you’d given earlier this evening. 

“This has emotionally drained me. I can’t do this tonight. I can’t. ”

“Turning up wasn’t my greatest plan, I’ll admit.”

“No. It wasn’t. But Rúben? I’d give you baby steps to try. Just not tonight.” 

[sleepy-grav3]

Obsessions

More of a ramble, but it could be taken as a prompt. Closer to a headcanon though.

Tw: swears, bad lab safety, murder (Dan's human half)

So you guys know how Danny's obsessions is either space, protection, or both of them? Well if it had to do with protection, what happened with Dan?

Obsessions are more of a ghost thing. His humanity was killed with his human half? What if that wasn't it?

Protection is actually a much wider spectrum. It doesn't just have to do with protecting someone else, but also yourself.

Getting rid of Dan's human half got rid of his morality, his humanity, the hero in him.

What if it also mutated his Obsession?

A lot of people like to call his obsession violence, maybe even family for a select few. But I think it should be Safety.

Yes, safety is basically synonymous with protection, but there are differences apparently. I'm more focused on differentiating them though. It just helps separate Danny and Dan's obsessions from each other to avoid misunderstandings.

But point is- what if Dan's obsession is actually about protecting himself? What if his obsession is keeping himself safe?

When he got separated from his human half, it was because his human half wanted him gone. There must've been some underlying part of Ending him, killing him, really making sure he was gone. And Dan would know. He was just the same mind as the other half before the separation took place.

So to keep himself safe, to protect himself, he killed off his human half. He knew how smart they were. You can't live with scientists, modifying their inventions to become less lethal, without learning a thing or 2.

And then there was Vlad. He was strong. The human half of him was what made Danny so durable, as he was resistant to anti-ecto equipment thank to that. Which meant Dan was weaker now and Vlad could easily avenge that Danny or take control of Dan. That's not even mentioning that he was only half a being.

So he stole Plasmius and fused, overpowering the other. Then becoming Dan and all that.

But then the whole world was still against him, with the GIW and all that (I don't know if they were introduced by then, but let's just imagine they were). They were a threat. The people hating him could all grow a pair and make weapons if they tried hard enough, so they were a threat.

So he killed them.

Then the time shenanigans came in and he met his younger self. That would obviously mess with reality somehow. Enough that he'd disappear. So he went to save himself by trying to make the same events happen to Danny.

It would make sense. So yeah. Dan's obsession is Safety in my opinion.

Maybe in a redemption arc, he protects his family (he won't admit that he thinks of them like that) because it'll affect his mental and emotional heal. He's trying to save himself from heartache of losing someone else.

Did you think that was it? Hell no. Let's continue with Vlad.

I bet his obsession is family. Obvious enough, but yeah. He considers Danny his son, Maddie his wife. No idea why he ignores Jazz despite her looking much more similar to Maddie than Danny.

Like- yeah, Danny is the one with ghost powers. But Jazz has the looks, specifically the hair. idk, I feel like he should obsess more for her.

"She has my eyes" not really "and Maddie's hair" yep.

That type of thing. He's delusional enough in the show.

Then there's Elle/Ellie/Dani. Obvious and agreed upon enough: Freedom.

But what about Jazz?

What if she became a halfa or considered liminal enough for an honorary obsession?

I'd think hers would be stability. She wants everyone to be ok, normal, and she's canonically a control freak. Sure, hers could be control, but I feel like she isn't much in the controlling thing.

Psychology, for example, is seeking stability and recovery. Recovery doesn't work much because I don't see her fretting over paper cuts or anything like that. But I bet she wants a break for everyone. and everything would be fine if everything went the same. Was normal. Was stable and not out of control like a government branch trying to commit war crimes and mass genocide.

This could probably be put differently. Maybe a different word, but I feel like this fits? Idk, maybe I'm not explaining this right, but this is technically a ramble.

Oh! And this makes sense if Jazz is the halfa. "I'll make sure everything stays the same" Everything becomes stable. There's still a problem, but as long as it's dealt with accordingly, it's ok.

Completely off topic, but there's this artist that draws Jazz as Jazz Phantom with blue hair and I think an orange headband and she's SO pretty like that. I almost want to get back into art to draw fanart with that now stuck in my head. She's just so PRETTY! she's pretty as a human too but- just- I love the blue hair. I love the idea in general. Made me get to the point of actively simping for Jazz and not just being a fan-

Anyway!

Jazz's obsession is stability.

and the Fenton Parents are just plain crazy. They have stuff to block out ectoplasm, right?

They still show skin. They still breathe in air with ambient ectoplasm in it.

What the fuck is their obsession called? Is it shared? Is it the same?

Are their kids part of it?

I'm not sure. Oh shit-

What the fuck would their obsessions be???

Just ghosts?

It could be but it could be more.

It could be so much more.

I bet Wes was hanging around Danny so much that he became liminal enough to get an honorary obsession. Sam and Tuck too.

Wes - Exposing the Truth

Sam - Save the Earth

Tuck - Technology

[siblingshuffle]

Any instance where Blues has gotten hurt really bad, needing to be treated by either Roll, Light, or Rock, who are concerned?

Thanks for the ask, Anon!

Despite his non-combative role, Blues has gotten hurt a couple of times. Not often to a “really bad” degree because he’s not often put in a position where he’s likely to get hurt, but it does happen sometimes by nature of being related to the city’s hero. That said, unless he is physically incapable of "just dealing with it", he probably wouldn’t let someone else fuss over him for very long (if at all).

I mean, I made him mentally 13 years old because that’s the first official “teen” year (which are traditionally marked by rebellion, searching for identity, and attempts to assert their own autonomy - so basically for thematic reasons) on top of his already fierce sense of independence and his introversion. He tries to do everything himself unless he literally can’t.

Here’s a short list of injuries (& health issues) that he has had to make his family worry:

The incident that led to the discovery of Blues’s defective core. His power output wasn’t stable, it fluctuated due to the imbalance in his core, and he lost power mid-demonstration (basically passing out), and on top of that he was still being attacked on his way down. Dr. Light panicked over that, given that his son was hurt and possibly dying and it was his fault. The guy was beating himself up even before he discovered Blues climbing out through the window. (Also fun fact: Dr. Light still hasn’t completely given up on the idea that maybe he can find a way to ensure that Blues can get a new core AND keep his personality, though Blues doesn't think that’ll happen in his lifetime.)

As mentioned here, he ended up kidnapped by Oil Man to be used as bait after being sent home (since he was low on charge, and that’s when he starts getting more frequent weird/painful sensations in his limbs), and I’m unsure how clear I was, but he did not get the chance to get a good charge before being taken to a second location. So, for that whole arc, he’s very grumpy, sleepy, and uncomfortable (and definitely took a lot of little spite-fueled mini-naps). Roll got super worried upon discovering his scarf and the ransom note, in part since it didn’t look like he actually made it inside of the lab. She has him chug an E-Tank immediately upon his rescue and she & Dr. Light make him take a long nap once he was back home (and he was actually very willing to comply with both requests. Let Blues Sleep 20XX).

Also not an injury, but Blues was not "Live Laugh Love"-ing in game 10. I’m not sure how much you are counting this, but he was sick for most of the game, and everyone was very concerned.

Similarly, though not as seriously, Rock got EXTREMELY worried and would not stop trying to help Blues the first time Blues got the aforementioned sensation in one of his limbs around him. (It’s Rock’s function to help, after all.) Like, Blues had to sit him down and say "It’s just a power fluctuation. My core does that sometimes because it doesn’t work right. I’m not dying. Well, not yet anyway." This likely doesn’t count, but I’m putting it out there anyway.

—————

As you can see, not a lot of dramatic injuries, again probably due to lack of proximity to as dangerous activities. I do like to think, though, that newly-activated Robot Masters have very young-child-like responses to things despite thinking like their programmed age (because they still have to learn about the world around them via experiences to fill in the gaps that data can’t cover). So, here’s a bonus based on the idea:

5. Blues (approximately 2 days old) fell out of a tree he was climbing at the park (he saw some human kids doing it the day before and thought it looked fun, but didn’t account for the fact that he was heavier than those kids and the tree he’d picked was a little less sturdy.) He didn’t make it very high up before a branch snapped. The fall didn’t actually hurt much, but he hadn’t been hurt before and ended up so startled that, because he was 2 days old, translated to crying (and, because he’s also 13 years old, trying to stop crying because 'it’s not that bad' and 'this is so embarrassing'). Cue First-Time-Parent Dr. Light frantically checking up on him while Blues is trying to convince him that he’s fine.