#also i still have no idea how to do shadows and lightning

[carlathecat]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @hyperfixatezz !!!!

Finally drew our wedding :3

i'll be honest it's simpler than the mental image i initially had

and i couldnt for all the tits find a way to draw the eyes and i just gave up. also i wanted to finish it for today and i dont think i wouldve been able to art again today so this shall do

[talaok]

A small bed

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!reader Summary: During a cold night at Nevermore, you seek shelter in your friend's, Xavier, room, but as it turns out, sleeping on a single bed in two, is not as easy as it sounds. Warnings: SMUT (protected sex and oral sex- female receiving-) a/n: Let's play a game. Guess who's depressed and has done nothing other than "write" and watch Wednesday for the past few days? Please find the answer in the following text.

It was so cold in the room. Those stupid wooden thin walls never actually isolated the building from the cold. Funny how the headmaster seemed to have money to donate to the Mayor's campaign but none to invest in the infrastructure she herself was managing. The bedroom was way too large and the ceiling way too high for the mere thermostat to be enough to fight the cruel Jericho's cold. You could hear Edvin's low snoring coming from the opposite side of the room. You wondered how she did it, how she could fall asleep with this temperature. Maybe it had something to do with her nature, and if that was it, you wished for a moment to have been born a werewolf too. Able at least to close your eyes without the fear you'll freeze to death in your sleep keep you from doing so. you sighed. there was no way you were gonna do it. The alarm on the nightstand indicated the time. 3:46, plastered in red lightning, the only thing illuminating the room besides the sheer light coming from outside, the moon still emanating her immortal glow through the branches. The howling of the wind seemed almost sinister, as it infiltrated from the window. You gripped the blanket and wrapped it around yourself, sitting up on the bed. There had to be something you could do right? You intently thought about it, as the cold spread itself all over your body. They were no more blankets, so that was a no. there was hot tea in the kitchen, but that meant stepping outside, where the cause of your suffering had originated, not to mention you were still going to have to come back to this infernal room after, so that was another no. the gears in your brain were desperately operating, trying hard to find a solution, but it seemed the temperature had compromised also them, not just your body, which was now trembling, as the only one they could find was the first one you had thought of, but had deliberately discarded. It's not like it was a bad idea, he would have said yes, you knew. there was just something about it that didn't convince you, a feeling or, better even, a presentiment, that made you doubtful on whether it was a good idea either. But you didn't have time to think about it as you slipped through the door, glancing one last time, at that shadow-filled space.

The sound resonated through the whole corridor as your knuckles met the door's hardwood. Silence filled it just moments after. It's not like you were expecting a prompt reply, or one at all for that matter. Light footsteps echoed in your ears just before the doorknob turned. "Y/n?" Xavier whispered, his voice still hoarse and full of sleep. "I know, I'm sorry. can I come in?" He frowned, visibly confused "Uhh, sure" "Thanks" you immediately sneaked in. He closed the door and leaned on it, still incredibly perplexed. "Did-did something happen?" "No, nothing like that" You smiled "I just-" you bit your lip nervously as you looked up at him "I can't sleep in my room. It's too cold." "Oh" he exhaled relieved, calming you with him. "I didn't know where else to go. I'm sorry. I can go if you want" you said, realizing just now how crazy you must look. Showing up to his room at 4 in the morning trembling and without shoes on. "shit you're freezing" he noticed, immediately taking his bed's blanket and walking up to you. He was silent as he gently wrapped it around you, his hands remaining on your arms once you had gripped it. "Thanks" "don't worry." he shook his head. A sincere expression spread over his face, and you let yourself stare at it, loving the way he was doing the same. "so, can I stay here?" you asked again "Of course" he said, looking offended by the fact you even had to ask. He glanced at his bed, an eyebrow-raising itself "There's only one thing" he offered you an apologetic smile "There's only one bed. Rowan's old one doesn't have any blankets". You looked around. He was right. Only the single bed surrounded by drawing-filled walls seemed to be suitable to sleep in. Especially today. You laughed softly. It wasn't funny, well maybe just a bit, but most of all it was ironic. you had come here for shelter and the only one you had found was a very thin mattress you now had to share with someone else. You wouldn't have accepted if it wasn't for the fact that there was no other option. You definitely weren't going back to the hellhole you had just escaped from. "I think we can fit" "you sure?" "Well, we at least have to try" you said "If I go back to my room there's a 90 % chance that I'll die of hypothermia" "and we wouldn't want that" he chuckled, his thumbs stroking your arms through the cover. "no" you smiled "we definitely wouldn't". You liked looking at him, the moon illuminating only the left side of him, lightening his long amber hair to champagne ones. "all right then" he let his arms fall to his sides before indicating the way     "Ladies first" "Why thank you, kind sir" you grinned as you went to the bed, laying down on it. It smelled of him. His scent was soaked in the sheets and in the pillow and you immersed yourself in it as you closed your eyes. You liked it. More than you should have, probably. "comfortable?" he asked, and you nodded sleepily as your eyes stayed shut. He laughed softly at how cute you looked, peacefully sleeping in his bed, and a weird feeling invaded his chest. He didn't pay attention to it as he walked towards you. You felt the bed creek and move as he climbed on it, laying just beside you. You hadn't really understood how small the bed was when you had looked at it before, but as you laid here, your two bodies glued together, you realized just how wrong your estimate had been. Silence filled the room again as he set the cover on you both. You were still shuddering, it seemed like the cold had made its way into you and had now little to no intention of ever leaving you. "You're still cold" he whispered, his hand finding your arm again, just to caress it kindly. His touch felt like fire on your frozen skin. You opened your eyes, finding his already on yours. You swallowed nervously at how close you were, a few inches was all that separated you. If you hadn't been best of friends this would have looked romantic, you thought. But you were, so there was nothing to think about. "mh-mh" you nodded. "can I-" he murmured as he turned to lay on his side "I can hug you" he bit his lip "if that's ok" "Y-yeah sure. I'd like that" you said shyly and he smiled "ok" He scooted closer to you and you turned to your side, just like he had,  facing the wall. You admired the extremely detailed spider on the drawing in front of you as he put one of his arms around you, tightly holding onto your chest, pushing you against his, and the other under your head. His body was flat against yours, from head to toe following your body's position. You could feel every inch of his body, his hair brushing against your neck where his breath was giving you goosebumps, his chest moving up and down against your back, and his knees on the back of your legs. He was warm, and as much as you were grateful for the cold beginning to leave your body, you weren't thinking about it anymore. What you were thinking about, was his hand on your stomach, and your ass-well- your ass dangerously close to his crotch. You gulped, if you had been on the verge of falling asleep before, you doubted you were ever gonna do it now. You kept staring at the drawing as you let yourself melt into his touch, so gentle and yet so reassuring. It felt nice. More than nice actually. Your neck was starting to hurt and you readjusted yourself to get more comfortable, inadvertently moving closer to him, and well,  grinding against his lap. A small groan, clearly not intended for you to be heard, left his throat. "sorry" you whispered, faintly "don't worry" his hoarse voice traveled to your ears, as he tightened his hug. Shit. There was a weight on your chest and a familiar feeling in your belly, and you preyed that you would have fallen asleep soon, zeroing out all the possible mistakes that you were afraid you couldn't stop yourself from making, and that right now were all you wanted to do. All the thoughts passing from your head were things you knew you would have regretted later, like what would have happened if you ground again against his crotch, or if you turned and leaned just a few inches over, meeting his lips with yours. They were all potential, doable possibilities, that you could have explored in a matter of seconds, but you couldn't, you shouldn't. You were just tired, that was it. Xavier was your friend, and friends don't kiss each other, even if they really really want to. "Y/n?" a soft whisper in your ear. "Hm" you hummed "are you sleeping?" You turned your neck around, now really inches from his face, from his nose, eyes, and stupidly pretty mouth. "no" you answered There was a moment of silence, as he inspected your whole face, his eyes traveling from your eyes to your mouth and then up again. You felt butterflies in your stomach. You had never understood that expression, but now, all of the sudden, it seemed to make a lot of sense. "are you feeling better?" "yes, thank you" He moved his hand from your belly and brought it up to your face "good" he murmured, as he stroked your cheek. You felt your cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink. "I-" your voice died in your throat, as you forgot what you wanted to say. "You're very pretty you know?" he kept caressing your face "I don't think I've ever told you before" he smiled "but you really are" shit. He was making it really hard not to want to explore the possibilities. "I- thank you" you murmured. He looked at you, seriously now, penetrating and studying you, like he was really seeing you for the first time. "Y/n" he murmured, his eyes blinking slowly. "Xavier" you whispered too, before he slowly leaned over, indecisively getting closer and closer to your lips. you looked at him as he reached them, pressing his mouth on yours, in a chaste kiss. you barely reciprocated, still shocked this was actually happening. He leaned away, his eyes moving between your mouth and your eyes, desperately trying to understand what you were thinking, while also desperately wanting to kiss you again, this time, like he really wanted to. You looked at him, his beautiful eyes always so confident, now looked so hesitant. It was a weird image, a new one. You smiled subtly as you leaned over and pressed your lips with his, this time better, harder and more passionately as his hand on your cheek traveled to your hair. He stroked your hair as he kissed you lovingly, his warm mouth on yours, as you both closed your eyes. It felt like floating, like flying on cotton candy clouds. You had never felt something like this. he smiled as he leaned away, and you couldn't help but do the same. "you're a good kisser" he murmured" better than I expected actually" you gasped, pretending to be mad " you expected me to be bad? " you asked, realizing just at that moment something "and what do you mean by expected?" "well" he moved a lock of your hair behind your ear "let's just say there have been times when I wondered about this" "have there?" you grinned "yes" he kissed  you again quickly "there have been" " Good to know"  you bit your lip "and by the way, you're a good kisser too" "Oh I know" he chuckled, retracting his hand from under your head to place it on your shoulder, his fingers trailing on it. "I'm good at a lot of things" he looked at you. A fire burned in his eyes. Your mouth opened slightly in surprise, and he kissed it uncaringly. His tongue infiltrated your lips as he forced your head together with his hand. You could taste him in your mouth, Xavier, all of him. from his toothpaste to the tip of the pencil he bit constantly. It was all there. "And do you want to show me those things you're so good at?" you said, surprising even yourself "pleeeease" he begged, desperation clear in his voice as he gripped your head one more time, kissing you hard and messily as he pushed you to lay down on the bed. He didn't waste any time as he got on top of you, peppering kisses all over your face, while his hands explored every inch of your body, leaving a trail of shivers with his touch. You whimpered as one of his hands found your breasts "We can stop if you want" "no. please no" He smiled "thank god" he lifted your shirt and sweater "I was just getting to the good part," he said, as he lifted it over your head with your help and shamelessly stared at your bare tits " fuck you're hot" he said bending down to spread kisses all over them while groping and caressing them hungrily. "so" he started kissing down your belly "fucking" he trailed down under the covers "hot" he said, kissing your fully clothed pubis. You moaned softly at the hint of a touch he just gave you. You were desperate "please" as I said, desperate "patience my dear" he whispered sarcastically, as he hooked the hem of your pants under his fingers, toying with it. You whined softly "a virtue you clearly don't possess" he chuckled under his breath as he slowly took your pants off, finally freeing you. he bent down immediately between your thighs, looking up at you smugly. You met his gaze and bit your lip. This was crazy. You were friends and had been such for so long, and apparently, all it took was a very cold night and a much too small bed to make you forget about it, and for him to end up between your legs. Fuck, he looked pretty that way. He brought you back to reality as he bent down and kissed your clit, still looking at you. You moaned softly, and then he did it again, this time for longer, and your moan became louder and kept doing so until he was sucking your clit and you were screaming his name, your hands gripping his hair and the sheets mindlessly. Lost in the pleasure he was provoking you He was looking at you mesmerized as you threw your neck back, your eyes shutting close and your mouth open, those filthy sounds coming out of it. Xavier thought he had never heard something so beautiful in his life. "you taste so good y/n" he said, his words vibrating against your cunt, as his fingers came up to your pussy, slowly moving towards the entrance. You cried out as they entered you, Xavier pumping them in and out relentlessly. A very dirty sound echoed through the room as he kept doing that, not even your voice able to cover it, as he went back to sucking and licking all he could find. "xavier" you mumbled "s-shit" you tried to speak, but the pressure forming in your belly distracted you "I-I'm coming" you finally spat out, and he smiled against your cunt "then cum y/n, come all over me" he stopped just to resume again, even harsher than before. You felt a knot in your stomach and as he scissored his fingers inside of you again, hitting your g-spot perfectly, it broke down. Making you come undone, loudly moaning his name as you came down from your high. "shit" you sighed incredulously, as he came back up to your face, pressing his lips with yours once again, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. "you weren't joking when you said you were good" you giggled, and he smirked "I'm a man of my word" his hand found your side again "now" he looked at you "let me show you my full potential" he said, making you laugh giddily, exited for what was about to come. His hands left you momentarily as he took off his shirt and just moments after, his pants. You had never seen anyone undress that quickly. He leaned over you to reach into one of his nightstand's drawers, his hand reappearing with a tinfoil package between his fingers, the same ones that were inside of you moments before. You squeezed your thighs shut, just at the thought He looked down at your legs and smiled knowingly, as he slid the condom on his cock. You weren't nervous. It was weird, usually, you were always nervous at moment like this but you felt safe, and more than a bit turned on. "you're gonna have to open your legs y/n" he raised an eyebrow, and you tilted your head to the side, biting down a smile "and what if I don't?" he bent down over you "then I'm gonna have to open them for you" he ghosted your lips. you swallowed thickly. Fucking shitty shit. Hot. That was hot. You spread your legs and he smirked smugly " so obedient" he joked and you rolled your eyes. "look at me" he commanded as he positioned himself at your entrance "I want you to look at me when I'm inside you" Your mouth slaked open but you still nodded "use your words" "ok" you answered finally, and he looked at you proudly before slowly pushing himself into you. A series of stroked and interrupted moans escaped your mouth as he bottomed out, filling you up completely. You were doing as he requested, looking at him intently as your face contorted in all sorts of expressions. "you're perfect" he sighed faintly, as he placed his hand on your stomach, stroking it gently " so fucking perfect" he looked at you, making your heart miss a beat. his lips twitched up into a very thin smirk as he started moving in and out of you slowly, his veiny cock wrapped tightly around your walls. "feel so good " he groaned as he quickened his pace. One of your hands flew to his shoulder as you gripped it to bring him down to you. You wanted to feel him, all of him. And you did, as you hooked your arm beside his neck and reached up to kiss him desperately, leaving pointless little whines in his mouth as he kept thrusting into you. "shit Xavier" you cried out as he brought one of his hands down to circle your already overstimulated clit. "I know," he said without an ounce of real sorriness "just take it " he pecked your lips again "It'll be worth it" You were out of breath as you kept bouncing on his bed, your tits moving with you. his movements were fast and you were feeling so many things at once that you weren't sure you knew exactly where you were at the moment. The same knot from before was starting to form itself again. "you're coming" he said, through his panting, anticipating you. Some of his hair were stuck to his forehead, and his mouth was open, gasping for air in between his sporadical groans of pleasure. "mh-mh" you nodded desperately, your hips moving with his to get even more friction. "come baby" he murmured, the pet name echoing through your ears, and traveling straight down to your cunt "come for me" "oh god xavier" you had the time to murmur before a wave of pleasure overwhelmed you, a series of little fireworks exploding inside you as he kept moving, chasing his own orgasm while letting you ride yours out. "fuck" he growled as his thrusts got more sloppy "you feel- so f-fucking good" he groaned, before with one final push, he came, a series of profanities leaving his mouth before he collapsed on top of you, his head resting on your shoulder. You smiled as you realized what had just happened, and when he raised his head, you could see he was doing the same. "I think the bed was too small" you grinned "What makes you say that?" he laughed

[links-in-time]

This short fic was inspired by the gorgeous artwork of @maesonc-artistic-adventures. I had this idea after seeing this drawing and had to write it down.

Fierce Protector

Link groaned as he regained consciousness. Then gasped and groaned again as the wound in his side sent bolts of lightning shooting up and down his torso. Instead of trying to get up, he let himself fall back down so he could assess his situation. 

Wound, check. Did he remember how he got it? That part was a little hazy at the moment. Where was he? Link opened his eyes and looked around. To his left and directly above him were natural stone walls. An overhang at the bottom of a cliff maybe. To his right he could see grass and the roots of trees. 

Everything was illuminated by the soft flickering of fire light. Beyond the golden haze, Link could see the blanket of night surrounding their campsite. Above the trees he could see a few stars occasionally veiled by clouds. 

However, what was most concerning of all, besides his wound, he seemed to be alone. Everything was quiet. Only the occasional pop and crackle of the fire interrupted the stillness of the night. Link would have expected to hear the conversations or gentle snores of his brothers around him. Yet there was nothing. 

Panic began to reach into his usually logical mind. He was injured and alone. He had no idea where he was, or where the rest of his brothers were. Not an ideal situation on any day. 

“You're awake, that's good.”

A voice made Link start and he instinctively reached for his hidden knife. But to his dismay it wasn't there. The stretch also aggravated his wound, pulling at it painfully. Link clenched his teeth and pushed through the pain in order to sit up. He managed to get himself propped up on one elbow. Giving him a better view of the little campsite. 

What he saw nearly made him fall down again. The Fierce Deity sat on a log on the other side of the fire, staring at him with those blank white eyes. The amber light from the fire cast strange shadows across the beings face, shifting and jumping as though he were moving. But the Deity remained motionless, staring unblinking at Link. 

“You, what… What are you doing here? How long have you had Time?” Link demanded, summoning his courage and wishing he had something for the pain. 

“I have occupied this vessel for many hours while you remained unconscious. He summoned me in order to protect you.” The Deity replied calmly, his voice level, almost bored. 

“Will you let him go now? There's no danger here,” Link asked just as calmly. 

If experience dealing with the Fierce Deity had taught him anything, it was never to rile it up. Friends could quickly become enemies if they said or did something the Deity didn't like. For now however, he had said he was protecting Link. Also that Time had instructed him to do so. He needed more information. 

“What happened to me?” He implored. “Why did Time use the mask?”

“There was a battle. Your forces were divided. You and the one you call Time were hampered in your efforts to reach your comrades. An enemy breached your defenses and wounded you. While you lay helpless this vessel donned my mask and begged me to protect you. I did so.”

“Thank you,” Link said, bowing his head a little for added reverence. “Do you know what happened to the rest of our friends?”

“I know nothing of your party. Link gave no instructions regarding them.”

Not good. Link needed to find the others and make sure they were all safe. However, if the Deity had decided to act on an instruction from Time, it would usually follow it to the letter. And then some. Getting it to change its mind and let Link go and search for the others would be no small task. Getting it to release its hold on his little brother was tantamount to impossible. 

“Is there still danger?” Link asked, trying to broach the subject carefully. 

“The monsters have been slain,” the Deity replied simply. As though this was a stupid question. 

“Then you were successful in completing the request Time asked of you.” Link noted, trying to make him understand. 

The Deity nodded. 

“Now that you have fulfilled your task, will you see your way to giving Time-Link, back his self?”

Link held his breath. This was always the difficult part. During the war young Time had used the Fierce Deity mask countless times during battle. Sometimes he could take it off easily, as though it really was just a child's mask. But after prolonged battles, sometimes the Deity would still sense danger towards his host. On those days Link would sit with the powerful being and gently convince him to let his little brother go. So far he hadn't failed him. 

“You are still injured. Your pack is empty of healing items.”

Great. Time was going to be trapped as long as Link was out of action. Now being away from the others was a big problem. If Rulie, or any of the others were there, they could heal him and the Deity could be free of his responsibilities. 

“I remember you being far more capable when we met before,” the Deity continued. 

Link was surprised. He knew the Deity was an incredibly intelligent being, but he had always assumed that it didn't really pay attention to Time's life and the people around him. 

“What are you talking about?” Link asked, frowning in indignation. 

“Your talents for planning and strategy have slipped. The young man I remember would not have allowed today's events to happen at all.”

“I planned as best as I could,” Link protested. 

“You did not account for yourself and Time being separated from the others. That is why you failed to win the battle on your own merit.”

“I…” Link faltered. 

He couldn't really argue with the Deity’s statement. He hadn't factored the Chain getting separated into his battle plan. It was his fault Time was now stuck inside that damn mask. 

“You're right. I should have planned better. I suppose I've come to rely on my brothers knowing what they're doing. I don't have to marshal them the same way I used to command my soldiers.”

“They are children, children need a firm hand.”

“They're far more than children,” Link argued. “Time was little more than a child when I met him, yet you never said anything about his age. In fact,” Link paused. “I think this is the longest conversation you and I have ever had.”

“It is true you and I have not spoken at length before. You have always feared my presence,” the Deity stated. 

“I never feared you,” Link lied. “I was afraid you would never let my brother go. Just as I am now.”

“You truly care for this vessel don't you?” 

“He's not a vessel, and yes. I love him like he's my own blood.”

“Sentiment is a weakness,” The Deity asserted, dropping its gaze to the fire for the first time. 

“No it's not, it's a strength. Loyalty and love are what bind us together. Without that we'd all be fighting amongst ourselves. Everything good in the world would disappear. Surely even a warrior such as yourself can understand that?”

The Deity didn't respond, just continued to stare into the softly flickering flames. Link realised then that he had got the Deity talking. Not just about Time, but about its own thoughts and feelings. Perhaps this could be an opportunity to learn more about this ancient God. 

“You can see into your host's mind. Can't you see that he would agree with me?” 

“This incarnation of the hero does agree with your sentiment. He believes that goodness and love will always triumph over evil.” He paused, blinking slowly for the first time. “But he does not know the truth.”

“What truth?” Link asked. 

“How even the most simple, trusting folk, can fear their own savior. How millenia ago, before there were heroes and princesses, the gods walked the earth. I was one such being, a fierce warrior who defended people from marauding monsters and evil humans. Yet not all believed my strength to be a blessing. Some of the other gods feared me, feared my single mindedness. My loyalty blinded me and I was tricked. Trapped and bound for all eternity. Even as I possess this Hylian, I am not free.”

“But you must still believe in loyalty. Otherwise you wouldn't have done what Time asked. You wouldn't have protected me and brought me to safety. And I'm very grateful to you for that.”

There was a long pause as both Link and the god possessing his brother absorbed each other's words. After a while the Deity stood and stared down at Link. 

“I must check the perimeter. If all is well by morning, I shall release your brother to you.”

“Thank you,” Link nodded. 

Without another word the Fierce Deity turned and walked away from the rock face. As the glow of his white hair disappeared into the trees, Link laid back down on the ground. He may not have succeeded in getting Time back just yet, but he felt like he had achieved something else. The Fierce Deity had opened up to him. Had told him a little of the history concerning the mask. They were similar in more ways than he had ever imagined. Perhaps in future, he would not need to be so cautious when dealing with the ancient being. 

[skitskatdacat63]

Fernando Alonso & His Relationship With Cards

I'm sure we're all familar with the cards on the back of Fernando's Vegas GP helmet by now, but did you know his relationship with cards goes a lot deeper?

I. Magic Tricks

You've probably seen or heard someone at least mention Fernando's propensity for card tricks. As far as I can tell he was doing them(publically) as far back as 2003 all the way to as recently as 2018. Even once performing a card trick, with a condom and a teddy bear(!??!?!??!!), in front of Valentino Rossi who said "How was that possible?"(x)

But how did this start? According to James Allen, "Fernando admits to having been heavily influenced by his grandfather, a mercurial figure, who taught him magic and card tricks, still one of his passions away from the race track."(x) And I'm not sure the validity of this one, because I couldn't find an actual source, but apparently he once said: "My parents are responsible for the two things I like doing most - driving and magic tricks. They bought me my first go-kart and a magician's kit."

In several interviews he described it as his hobby off track, and that he loved learning new tricks and surprising others in the garage with them! So clearly cards are pretty important to him both as a hobby but also to who he is as a person since they've been with him just as long as racing has.

II. Card Symbolism in His Helmets

This is the reason I originally made this post, but I thought I should also explain the origins of his card fascination first. As I said, we probably all remember the cards on the back of his helmet in Vegas, but did you know that wasn't the first time he had cards on the back of his helmet?

From 2008-2013, he used to have a pair of cards on the back of his helmets. The symbolisms of the cards themselves as well as the evolution of their design is really fascinating to me! Even more so with the recent development of the card choice in 2023.

Fernando said he wanted to reference his two titles in some way on the back of his helmet and after his friend sent him several ideas, he decided on having two cards(an ace of clubs and an ace of hearts, sometimes pictured with 05 and 06 on them as well), saying: "I picked the cloverleaf [the ace of clubs - Ed] to give me luck, but the only pity is that it doesn't have four leaves!"(X)

2008.

Here's the very first appearance of the cards! They're displayed flat, with the 05 and 06 clearly visible

2009.

Very similar to 2008, but with a slightly different design, and they're maybe a bit more straight with less shadow?

2010.

This is the first major change! I was sad they didn't have the years on them anymore, but then I realized they're sparkly to match with his signature lightning bolts on the top of the helmet!!

2011.

Honestly I'm still somewhat unsure if this is the actual 2011 helmet? It's pretty difficult to find clear photos of the back of helmets from older seasons. It's easiest to find them on replica sites or auction sites so I'm not 100%? But anyways, I like that this has the championship years on the underside of the cards

2012.

This is when I started getting weirdly emotional about the helmets. Do you see how they've progressed from being a centerpoint to being curled up and sad at the bottom of the helmet? Not listing the year anymore??

2013.

Same thoughts as 2012. And after this season, they cease to exist (just like his ferrari chair in the garage, WOAH CALLBACK), until cards make a reeappearance in his Vegas helmet, albeit in a different form

2013 Monaco(Honorable Mention):

For some reason 2013 helmets were easier to find proper pictures of, so I happened to witness this absolute beauty. The creativity of this helmet genuinely blows me away??? Wanting to keep the card motif, but making sure to incorporate it into the rest of the puzzle piece design?? Mwah! There was another special 2013 helmet but they didn't change the cards at all so I really applaud this one

2023 Las Vegas(The Return of The King):

The magnificent return! But look! The cards are different cards! Instead of being two aces, it's now an ace of hearts, a four of hearts(his driver number of course!) and, the, now iconic, representation of himself as a Joker. I literally could not believe my eyes when this helmet was released and I saw the Joker card, what a fucking silly old man....I really wonder if he felt nostalgic having cards on his helmet again or if he didn't think about it all and was just like, "ah cards because Vegas!!!"

III. Why Does This Matter?

*The rest of the post was factual, this is moreso my personal thoughts on the symbolism of the cards/designs

This post spawned from me recently watching the 2010 Bahrain gp and noticing "hey wait a minute...are those CARDS ON THE BACK OF HIS HELMET!?" It's a really tiny detail that's unfortunately covered up by the HANS device pretty much whenever he's wearing the helmet, so it's really difficult to spot! But I became fascinated with the fact that he had cards on his helmet before that recent helmet, and now here we are!

There's something to me about how the design of the cards evolves over the course of six seasons from the cards being front and center to being smaller, more folded up and closer to the bottom of the helmet. As I said, the 2012-2013 ones genuinely made me depressed because it feels, symbolically, like his hopes for getting another Ace are becoming more and more unlikely and falling away until they eventually fall falt and fade away entirely after 2013 and disappear for basically a decade.

But when they return? They're not the same cards! Instead of representing Fernando's championships, they now represent him as a person, displaying his driver number and his persona of being a Joker!! Though I do think it's interesting he happened to keep the Ace of Hearts, even though he talked more about the Ace of Clubs before. I'm not sure it's actually this deep in reality, but I like to think that it's him not letting his championships(and the lack thereof) define him, but rather letting who he is as a person shine and be the centerpoint instead! But on a sadder note, as @suzuki-ecstar said to me, maybe the Aces aren't there anymore because he's lost all hope for a chance at a third Ace entirely :(

[multifandom-worlds]

A Family Divided

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Word count: 2k

Warning: Bullying (siblings), mention of family death, description of injuries.

Notes: This sort of follows canon but sort of not at the same time. The reader (Iris) is Harry's sister and is 2 years older than Harry. So this takes place in what canonically is Harry's 7th year but in this fic it's Harry's 5th year. Does that make sense? Probably not but hopefully you'll understand!

Special thanks to @i-like-pandas5 for the idea and @loomis-maxima for dealing with all my bitching when it came to writing this thing.

You were Iris Potter, the older sister of Harry “The Chosen One” Potter. What everyone forgets is that you were also in the house when Voldemort killed your parents. But since you weren’t in the nursery where your mother gave her life to save your brother, he became “the boy who lived,” and you became an afterthought - the unfortunate, forgotten sister of the boy Wonder, old enough to grasp what had happened but still young enough to have hope.

At one point in your lives, you loved Harry; you took care of him when the Dursleys didn’t and sheltered him from the abuse you received at the hands of your aunt. Her reasoning? You looked too much like your mother. You cried when you got your Hogwarts letter because it meant you had to leave him. You spent the whole train ride worried about your brother, hoping he was going to be okay before you returned home, only to arrive at Hogwarts and learn all about what happened when you two were little. 

The sorting hat debated whether to put you in Slytherin or Hufflepuff but decided you were ultimately Slytherin for your resourcefulness, cunning, ambition, and determined nature. You found belonging and friendship in Slytherin. You didn’t realize how deep the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor was until Harry was sorted into Gryffindor, and started changing. 

During his first year, he stayed close to you whenever he could and introduced you to his friends, Hermione and Ron. They were good kids, if not a little annoying, but you were happy your brother found friends.

The resentment for your baby brother didn’t start until his 3rd year when he really started leaning into his “chosen one” moniker. He made a name for himself at 14, sealing your fate to always being in his shadow. 

“Stop copying Harry! Merlin, you're so obsessed with him!”

“Look at you trying hard to be like Harry. You could never be like Harry.”

“Your scar looks so fake!”

Those were comments you were sick of hearing—everyone thinking you're copying your brother because you also have a scar on your face. Where your brother's is a lightning bolt on his forehead, you have a white scar going down from your right eyebrow, across the bridge of your nose and down your left cheek. It usually blended in with your skin, but there were days when it was more pronounced than usual.

“Speak to her like that again, and they'll be finding pieces of you for generations to come.” Mattheo threatened, the collar of a 3rd year Gryffindor clutched tightly in his fists. You watched from a corner, twirling your wand between your fingers, waiting for your turn to cast Furnunculus as they scurry away.

“Merlin Iris, mum gave her life to save me, not you. You need to get over it already and just accept your place.” Harry would taunt you as he walked by your table. Mattheo would glare daggers at him, and Draco would be more than happy to hurl insults his way.

You started changing—perhaps it was Mattheo's influence on you. Maybe you have always been like this, but you decided to embrace all that Slytherin was: the good, the bad, and the evil. You had to listen to students and professors alike compare you to your brother. You just got sick of it, sick of hearing all the stories of adventures he got into, how he would never get in trouble because he was “The Chosen One.” 

***

“Hogwarts is threatened! Man, the boundaries! Do your duty to our school!”

You heard McGonagall call as hundreds of stone knights marched to their positions. This was it—the battle of Hogwarts. You knew it was coming, and the whole school knew it was coming. 

“All first and second years! My name is Iris; I am a 7th-year Slytherin student. I’m going to try to get you somewhere safe! Follow me, please!” You yelled out above the din. Once you had enough attention, you quickly and effortlessly led them through the school, blasting your way through enemies like they were pieces of paper. Mattheo is by your side, helping to guide students, Draco is on the left side of the group, Theodore is on the right, and Lorenzo and Blaise are pulling up the back. 

“Run, run, run, little snake,” Harry taunted when he saw you guiding the younger students away. “Run away, little snake; you couldn't stand up to a lion anyway.” Your jaw clenched, listening to your little brother’s taunts, but you choose not to dignify them with a response. You had a plan, and it would show the world who the stronger Potter was.

You wanted to be on the front lines, defending your beloved school, but you also didn't want your friends to have to battle their own families, so you tasked them with protecting the first and second years in the dungeon. 

You lead everyone into the kitchen before securing the door with Protego. It’s not a perfect system, but you hoped it’d be enough to keep everyone safe and keep any Death Eaters at bay. You walked around the kitchen, checking in on all the frightened students, trying to put their minds at ease.  

“I'm scared, Miss Iris. What if Voldemort comes and gets us?” A timid little Hufflepuff boy asks as you get to him. 

You sighed softly and crouched down to his level before motioning around, drawing attention to Mattheo, Theodore, Lorenzo, Blaise and Draco standing near the walls, surrounding the group of students. “Do you see these five boys with the green uniforms standing up? Those five are going to keep you safe. They have kept me safe the whole time I was here. They are extremely skilled witches, and I have full faith they'll keep you safe.”

“What about you?” The same boy asked 

“I'm going to end this once and for all. I'm tired of living in my brother's shadow. Time to make a name for myself.” You said before rising to your feet again and walking towards the entrance to the kitchen. 

You turn to leave the kitchen when Mattheo grabs your hand and holds you back from going. “I'm coming with you, Rissie. I'm not letting you do this alone. I can’t lose my only light.” 

You turned to face him before planting a gentle kiss on his lips. “My love, a Riddle is going to die tonight, and I would prefer it if it weren't you. Please stay here; I need to know you're safe.”

Mattheo searched your eyes for something, anything to tell him you're bluffing, but there is nothing but determination. “You be safe; I need you to come back to me after all this. I’m not ready to deal with life without you.”

You nod, silent tears rolling down your cheeks, and kiss him one more time. You looked up and addressed your friends before running out of the kitchen towards the stairs. “You lot better keep the next generation of witches safe. If you must die, I better hear it was saving one of  these kids, or so help me, Merlin, I will raise you from the dead and kill you myself!” 

You were quick to join the fray, joining professors and students alike as you defend your school and your home, a fierce determination burning deep inside your very being. Voldemort took your family from you; you were not going to let him take your school.

“Iris!” You turn to see who is calling to you when a deafening boom echoes all around before chunks of the castle crash down around you, knocking you to the ground. Once the dust has settled, you quickly take stock of your surroundings. Your left arm was trapped under some rubble at a painful angle, and your wand was nowhere in sight, scattered amongst the debris. The distinct taste of iron fills your mouth. 

You could hear Voldemort’s laughter as he taunted your brother. “Now you have nothing, Harry Potter. Your sister is dead!” Like hell, you were dead; the throbbing pain in your head and shoulder told you that. You needed to get out; you couldn’t let Harry kill Voldemort and claim the glory for himself. With your quick movement, your shoulder dislocated. You bite back a pained scream before carefully freeing it from the rubble. 

“CRUCIO”

Voldemort's wand fell, his tortured screams silenced the battle, and everyone turned to see who the witch was that cast the unforgivable curse. There you stood on top of the rubble, bloodied, shoulder dislocated, arm hanging limply by your side. 

You carefully stepped out of the rubble, clocking your brother's face; a mix of hatred and awe adorned his stupid features. You turn your gaze back to Voldemort, writhing in pain on the ground. You walked over to him and crouched beside his face.

“You killed my parents. It's time for me to repay the favour,” you spat. “Avada Kadavra,” you whispered as you watched the life drain from his eyes. His movements ceased, and his body deteriorated, scattering like ash into the wind. You stood up and locked eyes with your brother before the whole world went black. 

***

You wake up weeks later in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.  You could feel a weight on your bed, a rough, calloused hand clinging to yours. You gently close your fingers around the hand and carefully open your eyes before quickly closing them again, hissing at how bright everything is. 

“Nox,” you hear somebody say as all the lights go out in your room. It wasn’t pitch black by any means; light from the window and the hallway filtered in, but it was much easier to open your eyes. It takes you a couple of seconds for your eyes to adjust again before looking down, seeing a mess of brown curly hair resting against your bed. You knew those curls like the back of your hand - Mattheo. A faint smile pulls up on your lips; he survived.

“He has been here since we brought you here, dear.” You turn to the voice, seeing McGonagall sitting in a chair on the other side of your bed. “It’s good to see you awake, Miss. Potter. Your friends have been quite worried about you. When I return to Hogwarts, I will make sure to tell them you are awake.’ McGonagall says, placing her needlework on her lap. “I must extend a heartfelt, sincere thank you for saving the first and second years. Snape had found them in the kitchen once the battle was over; not a single student was injured. That was very quick, selfless thinking on your part, Miss Potter.”

You smile weakly. “I didn’t really think; I just knew they didn’t need to see the fighting or risk seeing their families being maimed or killed. I’m glad they survived. Did…Theo and the others survive, too?” You ask, all of a sudden very concerned about your best friends.

McGonagall pats your hand reassuringly. “Mr. Nott, Mr. Zambini, Mr. Malfoy, and Mr. Berkshire are all live and well, fret not. They have a  few cuts and bruises, but they are alright. They have sent you many cards and letters. Read them when you have the strength.” McGonagall stands from her chair before walking to the door. “I must return to Hogwarts, but I shall send an owl to check on you.”

“Goodbye, Professor,” you say before turning your eyes back to your sleeping boyfriend beside you. You squeeze his hand and gently rub your thumb along his skin. He begins stirring, feeling your hand squeeze his. His eyes open, and it takes a few seconds to register that you are looking at him. 

“Iris?! You’re awake!” He says, his excitement palpable. “I missed you so much. I didn’t…I didn’t know if you would wake up again! The professors found you unconscious and barely breathing. The Daily Prophet has been singing your praises ever since they learned you killed my father. Harry is miserable that he is no longer the popular Potter. You did it, mon amour; you broke out of your brother’s shadow!”��

You smile weakly, cupping his cheek with your hand. “Shhh. Love, you’re talking too much. I just want to be here with you. I don’t care what is happening at school right now.” Mattheo chuckles before taking your hand and kissing your palm.

[bonefall]

(dif anon) So is Ashfur grooming Shadowsight a plotline you would keep/rework in BB? I'm not so keen on the way canon used it to retcon his epilepsy, but I do think a plotline examining how clerics can be vulnerable to abuse from StarClan spirits is kinda compelling

Shadowsight's epilepsy is staying in BB, the Erins can try and take it away again over my dead body

Yes, that's staying and BB!StarClan was reworked with unfairness in mind.

This time around, I'm considering the idea that Ashfur didn't work completely alone. After the events of Squirrelflight’s Horror, Silverpelt's divisons are starting to crackle the stars.

Skystar and the other more traditional spirits are losing patience with the peace that Fire Alone brings, and the ways that the code has been bent.

They feel that honor is being lost in their descendants.

Even angels disrespect the collective; see how Skypelt has its own heaven? With a demon in its midst? There is blasphemy even in the skies.

Firestar and the more modern pantheon are ferociously defensive of the choices of the living. StarClan exists for them; not the other way around.

Meanwhile, Mousefur has gone missing. Others start to blink out, too. This is causing panic... and Ashfur keeps it quiet that he's the only one who knows where they've gone.

The angels that plan action probably were a small group to begin with, radical spirits. Skystar and Ashfur are two of them, and Ash is the "youngest." So when he comes down to the mortal plane and betrays them, very few other angels knew what had happened.

(I might even have a few angels be doing the various supernatural things in that first book, but slowly, Ashfur is wittling down their numbers until it's just him.)

I'm still working out specifics, but the other angels that Ashfur has consumed are giving him a massive power boost. He can use this to jump between planes freely, and he's able to do some whacky things like weave dreams and pull nightmares out of the Dark Forest.

The most important unique power he has, which he can do ALL on his own once he's absorbed enough starpower, is blast Shadowpaw with a bolt of lightning. The electric current runs through Shadowpaw's brand new scar, giving him a connection to StarClan like he's a little radio tower.

Thing is... when StarClan is blocked off, the only signal he receives is Ashfur's.

So, Shadowpaw.

From the time he was very young, Shadowkit has had an unhealthy relationship to life and death

He watched a lot of cats die before he was old enough to really understand it, and the only one who came back was Heartstar.

His epilepsy was so severe it would have been terminal. He was prepared to die as a kit.

Tawnypelt took him to the Tribe to learn more about treatments, bringing back a method of refining chamomile to manage the convulsions.

When people come back from death, it was to serve "a purpose."

He feels like he needs to be special, like he needs to find the great meaning in his life. The reason why he's still here.

In BB, there can be guardian angels. Cats you knew in life who decide to watch out for you in the afterlife. Moleflight is Jayfeather's, Shrewface is Squirrelflight’s. Ashfur poses as Shadowpaw's.

THAT is how I plan to address my criticism. Ashfur DOES build a very personal, trusting relationship with Shadowpaw, pretending to be the one who's here to give him the destiny he craves. Pretending like he's someone looking out for him.

I actually LIKE how desperate the situation was in-canon and I want to stress how none of this was Shadow's fault, so I also plan to keep that they had very little choice. Shadowpaw trusts his angel completely, and Ashfur coaches him on saying all the right things.

The older Clerics are suspicious, but... what else can they do?

Also, instead of framing this all as something Shadowpaw needs to "atone" for, I'm going to make certain cats unfairly scapegoat him for bringing the Impostor into the forest. Shadowpaw himself agrees with them, blaming himself, but he has to learn it wasn't his fault.

He DIDN'T let anyone down by failing to live up to great expectations, and there's no way he could have known that Ashfur was using him. This never happened before, he always made the choice he thought was right and tried to make up for harm done, and he's not responsible for what his abuser made him do.

I actually want to have him figure out some of this by talking to DF demons, towards the end. Cats faaaar more responsible for what they did in life than him.

Ravenwing in particular, who was also mislead by a rogue StarClan spirit, but... ultimately decided that if StarClan was right in their judgement.

He was told (by Birchface, but he still doesn't know who it was in particular) to make three kittens unsafe by revealing their parentage. His choice killed three innocent children, and lead to the Queen’s Rights.

And StarClan was furious that he'd ever believe they'd want something so CRUEL.

And even if they DID want something so cruel... "Then they wouldn't have been ancestors worth following. And that's why I believe it's right that I'm here."

As a Cleric, he had authority on their behalf. And if they would misuse it through him, he wishes he could have just given it right back.

And Shadowsight's lightbulb goes Ding!

The very last thing Ashfur does in TBC, when the jig is up and he's about to be killed by the Lights in the Mist and a bunch of Demons who have come to defend their home, is swallow a Founder-- Skystar.

He takes the level of a true god, and reaches a nearly undefeatable level of power. Instead of black water, he's so large, malicious, and has a gravitational pull so massive it starts destroying the afterlife. It shatters the purgatory (Meadow of Young Stars) into floating cosmic fragments, and Heaven and Hell are set to collide.

Shadowsight confronts Ashfur, politely explaining that he's, well... done a lot of thinking, and, he doesn't really want what he gave him. "You can, uh, have this back!"

And blasts the lightning from his scar right back at him, like a chain, holding the screeching eldrich horror in place. Every ally he's made, here in the DF, come down from StarClan, and as Lights in the Mist, jump to his side. They can't hold down Ashfur, but they can hold SHADOWSIGHT

While they're all supporting him, Bristlefrost sees the one chance to get rid of him, once and for all. A clear shot. She bolts, pounces, and SHOOTS right into Ashfur like a falling star, knocking them both off the edge of the heaven he destroyed, burning up in orbit with a monster a hundred times her size.

And after that, Shadowsight has to go home and live with this.

He gave up the very connection that made him so special, and now he has to go back to being a Cleric without StarClan.

but the other Clerics accept this. They have to. They were all complicit in the choices that allowed the Impostor to rise.

What Shadowsight learns is... everyone was part of this. From those who made the follies with him, to the supporters and rebels against the impostor, to those who helped him realize his worth, to Bristlefrost who ultimately killed Ashfur.

He is valuable because living is valuable.

Everyone, and everything, matters. All cats have a role to play, and he was never alone.

I want to close him out in BB!TBC on a tea scene that parallels the various points in his life. Others used to prepare his chamomile treatments FOR him, in careful doses, because it is a very serious medicine. Now, at the end, he's the one brewing it.

A fully fledged Cleric, who realizes he's never been alone. Cats who love him were around him the whole time, making his medicine, and they'll love him even after he's given up his powerful gift. So now he's at the stage in his life where HE can make that medicine, share his wisdom with others, and find fulfillment in the skills he's acquired over a hard life brightening.

[simp4konig]

"Can't sleep?" König x Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: 3704

Having flashbacks about the battlefield and unable to fall asleep after an exceptionally draining mission, you go seek the comfort of your Colonel in the middle of the night.

*Slow burn

*ANGST!!💔... dw it gets wholesome at the end i promise ❤️

*Thanj you to Azzy!! (My No.1 Fan...🥹🫂💘) for this request !!!🙋🏼‍♀️💫💞💞✨Love u too🫶💕,, I kind of 🥺slightly🥺 maube a littke bit🥺🥺🥺went off prompt and König isnt affected by the mission per se BUT i have fulfilled the CUDDLING part!!! ☺️☺️pls dont show up to my fhome with pitchforks and torches im sry it just sorta happened ok😱

Also i rhink i have dementia bc I thought someone else rqsted König comfortinf rreader in a storm???😰😰Turns out nobody did so maybe i hallucinated it or smtj idk🤷🏼‍♀️Anyways I thought to merge these two ideas together so lmk what u think abt this lil (by "lil" i mean WAY too long🤪) drabble🙏💕

*Reader is pining for König

*Events loosely take place in the KönigxKing (as in, reader's call-sign is "King" storyline) mini-series. This serves as a slight backstory for King (reader). Again, this is by no means in any chronological order in relation to the series, so this can also be read as stand-alone! :)

*THANK YOU FOR 100+ FOLLOWERS!!!!!! 🥳🎉🎊✨🎇💖I SWEAR ONE IT LITERALLT FEELS LIKE MID-AUGUST WHEN I HAD LIKE 7 WHERE DID U ALL COME FEOM??????😰😰💘 IT MEANS SO MUCH FOR ME LIKE I CANR STRESS THIS ENOIGH BC IM SO HAPPG U GUYS THINK MEWORTHY ENOIGH OF YOUR PRECIOUS FOLLOW AND WANT TO READ MY WACK WORKS!!!!!!🤧🤧💖💖 LIKE??????? 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹THANK U THABK YOU RHABK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🫶🥰🥰💖💖💖❤️💞💞💕💖💕💕💞

                                        ...

You couldn't sleep.

It was raining relentlessly outside, the pitter-patter of water droplets hitting your window. Storm clouds boomed loudly outside, and despite the blinds being pulled tightly shut, lightning occasionally flashed through the cracks, elongated shadows of buildings forming on the walls.

Counting down the seconds until you'd hear the rumbling thunder, it would only be a few kilometres away, and you'd shudder at the sound, shivering.

While tossing and turning in bed, you had kicked off your covers and were staring at the ceiling, still wide awake. Normally, a storm like this would be like a lullaby to your ears, yet now it did nothing in helping lull you to sleep.

Even if you wanted to sleep, how could you when those corpses haunted your nightmares?

Laying in bed, your mind replayed the same scenes like a movie reel, the same screams like a broken record:

Lifeless, unblinking eyes with mouths agape and an expression of fear permanently engraved on their pale faces; flies swarming in hordes to harvest the soft tissues of the irises and tongue, eating the human mush; limbs contorted in unnatural positions, arms and legs crushed by the force of detonated mines, bones broken under the weight.

Rumbling roaring of machine guns and the deafening explosions from hand grenades meant that the high-pitched ringing would drown out everybody's yelling, muffle all noise from your surroundings, and you'd only be pulled out of your daze when you'd find yourself stumbling on unstable ground, on bricks and cheap concrete that had all crumbled.

Bodies would drop so fast it'd take at least seconds for you to register whether it had been an enemy or an ally.

You'd pull the trigger, but seeing a bullet go through someone's forehead and the exaggerated shock stamped on their face — a permanent expression in their final seconds remaining forever in death — left you wondering why you would ever sign up willingly to do this.

Disorientated, you'd struggle to pull yourself together, would enter far too many close calls for a soldier to count, and would only get a grip once you saw a familiar face, a reminder that you weren't alone in the warzone.

Even now, the sonorous sound kept echoing in your head, and, if you listened closely, it resembled hundreds of hoarse shouts, so many people screaming at once in collective agony.

You flinched as a bolt of lightning suddenly struck the sky.

Sparing an absentminded glance at your digital alarm clock, your eyes widened slightly at the time: 1:56am.

Damn... you thought. ...it's that late already?

Drills would begin at 7 o'clock, and you had to have woken up at 6 to brush your teeth, get dressed, eat, and mentally prepare yourself for the day, so you kissed a good night's sleep goodbye, and accepted the telling off from your superiors the following morning for under-performing.

...Still, how could you sleep after what you had experienced? What you experienced and would continue experiencing?

Accepting high-pressure missions and a demanding workload once you had enlisted, you thought that your ability to keep calm under pressure and stay composed would mean that you would have been unaffected by the shooting by now, and be taking everything in your stride. Calm, composed, and unaffected, is what you had thought you'd be. Surely you'd be able capable enough to cope with it all?

Yet, you weren't any of those things. Never getting used to the stress that would persist even while on supposedly "low-intensity" extractions. You'd always be on edge, always recoiling at hands that would reach over to tap your back as encouragement or hold your shoulder in reassurance on base.

You believed you could never familiarise yourself with the panic and unpredictability of missions and being hyper-aware of something, anything, everything going wrong, with the adrenaline that would course through your body and take over your senses in times of fight or flight, with the nerves that would keep you on edge hours after landing safely on base.

But, most of all, with the nights you'd lay in bed, unable to fall asleep: nights like these, when every time you closed your eyes, you saw the eyes of dying comrades; when every time you walked along the corridors, imagined yourself diving across the floor and felt shattered shrapnel breaking under your feet; when every time you sat in an empty room, heard ear-piercing blasts and the ricochet of discarded shells just missing your head.

Whereas the other operators seemed to be completed unmoved by any of their deployments and would shrug their shoulders off of the events, the anxiety for you lingered, trauma deep within your soul consuming you whole.

How could you ever get over the fact that you were shooting real people? Losing real soldiers?

...Losing yourself along the way?

All this work took a toll on your psyche, but comparing yourself to the other soldiers made you feel like such a coward, and second-guess ever enlisting in the first place.

...Well, you did so because it had been your only option all things considered, but looking back on it, you thought that maybe it would have been better if you hadn't chosen anything at all.

Accepted the grave nature of your failures in life, the same life that would have had inevitably ended with you pre-maturely in a grave.

After all, you had no job prospects to look forward to, no dreams to strive for, no aspirations to achieve.

Failing your school exams time and time again until you had finally achieved a result that was good enough didn't earn you any security, as you weren't exactly employable with grades you had just barely managed to claw to even pass.

Really, it was hopeless. You were hopeless.

To say your family was disappointed in you would have been an understatement. Out of three children, you were labelled the disappointment child, the underachiever and failure.

Your two siblings worked as a lawyer and an engineer respectively, while you had never even been able to grasp the basics in education, never spoke with your teachers of anything other than the worrying results of your exams, never came home to share a thing with your parents you had accomplished with a smile of pride stretched on your young face like your siblings did.

Never. Because you weren't ever good enough.

At the dinner table, your siblings boasted of promotions and of revolutionary research, of trials and of successes, of their brilliant breakthroughs, as you sat on the side of the table, listening from the sidelines, excluded from all of the grandeur that you couldn't relate to.

Still, it was always better to keep your mouth shut than to make a dent in the conversation, further embarass yourself and prove how lowly you were, than to have so many pairs of pitying eyes talking down on you in patronising tones, of the subtle condolences from your parents and their regret with triumphant smirks and condescending attitude from your siblings.

In a last ditch effort to make your parents proud, you made the decision of joining the military. You were young and impressionable, under the impression that your parents would finally be impressed.

...Of course, they weren't. In fact, your decision made them even more disappointed, shaking their heads sympathetically with strained smiles stretched on their lips.

Maybe that was the reason you couldn't handle the pressure of the military, you thought. You were weak, incompetent. Pathetic.

Although no one told you explicitly or made you feel that way directly, somehow, you always had felt inferior. Somehow, you felt that no matter what you did, how much you did, how well you thought you did, you wouldn't ever come close to the others's level.

That, despite your effort and dedication, you would never be good enough. Would always be inferior no matter what, because you always had been and would always be so.

...Your Colonel never made you feel that way, though, and you never quite understood why.

After all, your interactions were few-far-and-inbetween. It made you wonder what made you feel this way, and what spark ignited the warmth you'd feel when he was around.

Although a man of few words, the words that he did say to you would matter, though. His praise, his acknowledgement, his always being there made you want to keep going and prove your worth to him.

It started off as sporadic encouragement:

Your skin glistening with sweat, an accented voice would say "Gute Arbeit," over your crumpled body on the gym mat.

Offering you a gloved hand, you grasped it gratefully, and he pulled your tired body with ease. "Good job, King."

A lopsided smile from you as you'd wipe the sweat from your forehead and brows after sparring with someone else, limp limbs barely keeping you standing. His eyes were betrayed no emotion under his veil, yet a thin-lipped grin was behind it.

"Thank— you— sir!" You'd manage to breathe out, still panting for breath. "I did— my best, but— I didn't win."

"That does not matter," he'd say, speaking in a tone you couldn't quite recognize. "Very good job. Keep it going. Soon, you'll be able to pin even me down."

You'd laugh weakly at his words, yet would immediately feel a surge of motivation to keep working hard, and would train up to the point of exhaustion behind closed doors. Thinking you'd be alone, you'd punch a dufflebag with grunts of effort, missing the tall silhouette observing you with crossed arms in the corner, satisfied.

Then, those became casual greetings;

"Guten Morgen, soldier. Nice day, ja?"

Turning around, you'd see your Colonel walking towards you, frame visible even from a distance.

You smile broadly, eyes crinkling up in genuine joy, before you caught yourself and coughed. "Y-yeah!"

"Always a nice day whenever you're around, sir," you'd tease, playfully winking at him as he approached you, yet you were yet to master it without blinking both eyes.

He'd chuckle heartily, flattered, then shook his head to hide how his face flushed under his veil, and held up a hand.

"Thank Gott I have you here. My day would have been ruined."

"Have a good day, sir!" You'd call after him brightly, and he'd turn around for a final time with a two-fingered salute. Strange, since he was your superior, not the other way around, but you shrugged this off as a friendly gesture.

Until it developed into a sort of mutual connection.

In your eyes, at least.

You didn't want to assume that you two were friends, as the man was way out of your league. Strong, muscular, and a disciplined soldier — a Colonel, no less — a man of influence.

Besides, he, conversing with the only-recently-recruit-turned-soldier that was the slowest to understand a joke, did not comprehend complicated terms, and was the least bright out of the entire faction was not something you wanted him to be associated as, didn't want to tarnish his reputation.

You reasoned that you didn't want to bring down the Colonel down to your low level, so you kept your relationship as just that; associates. Aquaintances. Nothing more, out of respect for your Colonel.

Little did you know, the Colonel had developed a soft spot for you.

It seemed as though the storm had gotten worse, as the rain was unrelenting, and the tapping on the glass increased with force. Booming thunderclouds made your room shake.

A sigh as you turned to your side again. 2:07am.

Your thoughts moved back to your Colonel, and you started missing him, longing for him. The warmth that radiated off him made you wish he'd take you in his arms, hold you close to his chest, and you suddenly felt so cold. So lonely and cold.

Maybe it was childish of you to be feeling this way — he was your superior, after all, and you had no reason to be so attached — yet your daily encounters made you gain feelings for the man. Made you feel things when he was around.

Somehow, he brought you security. Made you feel protected. Safe. Like you could always count on him for having your back.

Made you forget that you were so useless, and was the reason for the fuzzyness within your chest, the buzzing feeling you'd feel as you'd be grinning from ear to ear after speaking to him.

Made you feel like you weren't pathetic. Weren't a wasted wishing star. Instead, you were appreciated, seen, even.

You wanted to see him. You wanted to be with him.

...Would he want you, though?

No. Of course he wouldn't. You weren't good enough.

A deep sigh. 2:15, the digital alarm clock displayed.

...What if he actually did want you? Not even as a partner, but just to be around him? Breathe the same air as him? You thought you weren't worthy of his time, but maybe, just maybe he wouldn't see it as such a waste.

Another crash of lightning brought you to your senses.

Finally making up your mind, you huffed in exertion as you pushed yourself off your stiff mattress, not bothering to organize the mess of blankets on the floor.

Walking with certainty, before you realised it, you were at König's bedroom door. Standing behind the door, hand hesitatingly reaching for the handle, you bit your lip, confidence wavering.

Should you really go through with this right now? What if he was asleep at that moment and all you'd do is disrupt his slumber? It wouldn't be fair of you to disturb him so late in the night, especially when he had so many responsibilities.

Still, you inhaled deeply, and, as quietly as you could, knocked twice.

You almost jumped out of your skin at the familiar accented voice of your Colonel.

"Come in," he said hoarsely. His tone was almost warm, inviting, yet you shook your head at the idea, and pulled the handle.

Entering inside, you slowly closed the door behind you. When you turned around, König was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, seemingly deep in thought. Wearing a tank top and cargo pants, his head was hung low, his veil hanging loosely over his head.

The blinds were drawn open to reveal the sky dominated by darkness, the grey curtain of monochrome on the nearest buildings cast down by the clouds, the raindrops that remained on the windows and the rhythmic echoes against the pavement as they dropped in syncopation.

The sight, his presence, were both so... relaxing. In a way, your anxiety was relieved by the tranquility of the scene, and it made you forget the internal turnoil you had been going through for the past few hours, made the tension in your body fade.

"Ah, King," his arms dropped to his sides and he raised his head to meet your eyes in the dark. "I had a feeling that it would be you."

You fidgeted nervously, not knowing what to do.

"Bitte, schön," he said, patting the empty space beside him on the mattress. "Please, sit down. I insist."

Slowly lowering yourself to his side, you sat at a reasonable distance away from him. With the both of you sat down, the size difference was still very noticable. His height made him hunch over you, and one of his thighs was like the two of yours combined.

So nervous, you didn't even notice how his back slumped so you'd be both at a similar level.

He cleared his throat. "What brings you here so late in the night?"

An awkward tug of your t-shirt collar.

"Can't sleep," you stated simply.

"I see." He was quiet for a few moments. Then: "And you decided that my room was the place to go?"

Your face heated up, and you averted your gaze. "Well, sir, it's j-ju—"

"—Nein," he cut you off, holding up a hand to stop you. "I have told you so many times not to call me that. Call me König."

"But— but you're my superior," you gasped, mouth agape. "You deserve to be addressed with respect! I couldn't possibly—"

The protest died on your lips again as the man shook his head, the loose material of his veil following his movements. "Nein. None of that matters. I want you to call me by my first name."

A heavy silence lingered over the two of you, words left unsaid by you both.

"So," König prompted, "what brings you here, King?"

Pausing to think over a pretence, the best you could come up with was: "The storm scared me."

"Ja?" Even with the fabric covering his face, you could almost see the skeptical smirk on his lips.

"A soldier like you afraid of loud clouds? Some rain?" He chuckled.

"Really, I'd have thought you better than that, King." If you didn't know him well enough, you'd have thought he was mocking you, yet despite the sarcasm his eyes held a genuine concern for you.

An bashful laugh escaped you as you rubbed your arm, nails slightly digging into your skin.

"Okay, tell me the truth, King," Leaning forward, his tone became serious. "I know for certain you aren't scared."

He searched for your eyes, yet you avoided his gaze.

"Something is troubling you. Is that it?" He cocked his head to the side, fabric falling loosely over his shoulder. "You can tell me, King. I am your superior, you know. You should tell me these things."

"Well... it's j-just—"

You bit your lip, willing the tears to stay in your eyes.

Don't cry. Don't you dare cry.

König watched you, patiently waiting for you to continue.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, vulnerability showing in your eyes. "—This recent mission, it was— it was really, really difficult. And I just..."

König shuffled towards you until your knees were almost touching, watching you intently. As your body trembled, a hand hovered in uncertainty by your shoulder.

Sniffling, you wiped the wetness on your face with your arm, voice breaking.

"I-I just think that I'm not strong. That I'm... weak. Not— not good enough to be working with people that are so much better. So much stronger—"

Your breath hitched in your throat, voice coming out in a broken sob. "—I-I mean— I'm so pathetic. I shouldn't be so... weak. I should — I should be better. Wh-why—"

Tears flowed freely down your face. "—Why can't I be better, König? Why am I so— so useless?"

Without saying anything, König wrapped his strong arms around your body and pulled you against his chest, pulled you close so you could let it all out. For a few moments, he let you cry, ever-so-gently stroking the back of your head, fingers running through your hair. Weeping into his chest, his steady breathing soothed you.

Once you recovered enough from your emotions, you pulled away, downcast. Face red and blotchy with tears, eyes puffy and pink from crying, lips quivering and voice hoarse, you felt so pathetic. So, so pathetic.

"F-fuck, s-si— König—" Trembling. "I'm so so sorry. I'm too emotional, please, I'm sor—"

"Nein." His tone was soft, yet firm. Definitive. "You have nothing to apologise for, King."

Both hands cupped the sides of your face, tentatively tilting your face upwards. His expression was forlorn, and you felt tears brimming in your eyelids again.

"...You're not weak. You're not pathetic. You're not useless. I see you always trying so hard, King, always giving it your all..."

He paused for a few moments, deliberating over how best to put his thoughts into words. "...Maybe... maybe your best isn't the best out of anyone's bests, but it's the effort that counts." He rubbed the back of his neck, then let out a mono-syllabic laugh. "Scheiße, did that make sense? Sorry— I'm not good with words—"

You glanced away. "—Hey," his hand reached to hold to side of your face. "Look at me, King."

"You're not weak, not pathetic, not useless," he repeated, voice wavering.

"You're none of those. You're better than you think you are. Your inner strength," a finger pointed at your chest, "your heart, it's so full of goodness. So full of so many good things that don't define you, but instead changed you for the better."

"Maybe... maybe you aren't the aren't the best, haven't been the best, or never will be the best, but it's not your fault. You try so hard, and the odds... the odds are stacked against you. And, sometimes... sometimes it's okay to not be the best. You don't have to be fearless, the strongest, perfect. You can just be... you."

His eyes were pleading in the dark. "Please don't doubt yourself. You're so— so much better than you imagine."

A shaky breath. "So much stronger than you tell yourself. I can promise you, you are your own person. Other people's successes don't define you."

König turned around to glance at his alarm. 2:36.

When he turned back, your face had slowly regained the colour on your cheeks, eyes sparkled, chest rose and fall at a steady pace. You said nothing, yet König knew you listened to every one of his words.

"Looks like it's too late for you to fall asleep in your own room," he whispered, gently caressing your face. "Stay here with me, King."

Eyes immediately widening in surprise, you were about to protest. "B-but— I couldn't possibly, König—"

That protest died on your lips as König's arms engulfed you again, and brought you down against his mattress so you were laying on his chest. Cocooned like a protective blanket over you, you didn't need him to say anything more. You felt so... safe. Loved.

The storm outside seemed to calm down, and lightning no longer crashed against the window. Rain faltered, and some clouds were separating in the darkness of the sky.

Before you knew it, your eyelids became heavy with drowsiness, feeling a wave of calm wash over you, cleansing away your sorrows.

Just before you fell asleep, you heard König say something in German, barely above a whisper, but you did not understand:

"Schlaf gut Schatz. Ich liebe dich."

...

I don't know who needed to hear that, or if anyone even did, but I stand by the words I wrote. Although you are reading this, and are likely a stranger, and I'll never face you in real life, I want you to know that you *are* good enough. And if it takes a person on the internet using a fictional character to tell you so, then so be it. You are still valid. 🫂

...

Note: i rhink some of the ppl that read my previous fics will be able to tell that i went tryhard mode on this one 💀💀

Its mostly bc im back in school and were going over all the stupid fancy shmancy literative devices and figurstive language (god why cant u call it literallt anything else i swear why does it have ro be so unnecessarily overcomplicated just call it sentence structures or writing techniques istg.man😭)so i unconsciously chanelled all of thise boring technicalities into this 😬

With me writing as a hobby you'd think I'd have the highest grades in English? No💔I wish LMAO

I NOW HAVE 130+ FOLLOWERS!!! Which is unbelievable if u wsk me bc etf why wre eo mwnt people following me i don't deserve this qt ALL 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THANK YOU ALL 🥹🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

I still remember when @puff0o0⭐ began their self-aware au with König and Ghost qnd ive qlways veen cheerint for her from the sidelines ☺️☺️come to find out shes been mentioning ME in THEIR podts and writing on their blofs thwt my CoD blog is good and i.????😭😭😭cant????????😭😭😭😭😭 Literally -99999 damage and an ARROW 🏹 STRAIGHT thru the HEART 💘🥹 I LOVE U B (platonically ofc dw)😽💕💓💓❤️💞💞💕💞💕💞💞💞💕

[ashoss]

For the bat x pjo thing, I’ve always loved the idea of Jason as a son of poseidon. I know that one’s probably overdone, but I love it a lot!

Just think about it—he’s got the looks, the sheer physical and probably even mystical power, the changeability…he’s just as intelligent as Percy believes he (Percy) isn’t, especially strategically. He was resurrected during heavy rain, which could be an explanation, like Poseidon’s upset his kid died so he’s sending rain to bring him back. He died in the desert, where there’s not a lot of water, and I know it’s a lazarus pit, but he regained his faculties in the water, and in both the comics and the movie, he’s extremely disoriented and falls/is pushed off a cliff into a body of water—but more than that, even if he preempts betrayal later on by leaving first, he is EXTREMELY loyal and will do anything for his friends.

I don’t know if you’ve already heard it, but you should really listen to Ruthlessness from Epic the Musical, with Jason confronting Bruce with the Joker in mind. It’s perfect for that, and that’s actually how I got the idea before I read anything on AO3 with Jason as a son of poseidon.

And I love the idea of Roy as a son of Athena too, you know, extremely clever, invents things but also fights very well, and, even if he’s not great at lying as a leader, is a very good leader anyway. (Kori and Bizarro have their own things, but Artemis, even though she is from Bana-Mighdall, is still descended from the greek amazons, and could be a legacy of a child of Athena, Ares, or Apollo).

And yeah, okay, I feel like Damian kinda has to be a legacy or something, BUT what if he were more like Carter Kane in The Red Pyramid? A vessel for Horus, or something, but a powerful warrior-magician nonetheless.

For Dick, I really liked in your other one him as a child of Hermes, but I feel like a son of Astrape, goddess of lightning, would work better. Astrape for sheer, you know, flashy power that still puts you on your ass, and arcs through the sky even if it can’t fly on its own necessarily (although that’s just a lot more representative, of course his abilities would be the result of hard work, as usual). And the fact that Astrape and Bronte are in Zeus’ entourage, and his shield/weapons bearers just fits Batman and Robin’s first thing and then Nightwing and Batman’s whole thing after very well, I think.

As for Tim? I honestly think he should just be a clear sighted mortal. He’s never seemed that much like any one child of anything to me.

Stephanie as the daughter of Dionysus is just inspired, and I can’t believe I never thought of it!

And Alfred I feel like would be, even if not the son of anyone, or a legacy, a sort of disciple of Hestia or something.

Babs I just love as a daughter of Athena, but also, she’s kind of taken the role of Oracle for herself, and I was thinking, you know, she should be a clear sighted mortal who became the oracle of Delphi, like Rachel.

And Cass I love as the daughter of Nike, but I feel like a daughter of Hades just fits her so well! Disappears into shadows, often called quite creepy and yet has no patience for what she sees as trivial when she could be attacking something with her fists instead (and has something against contributing to the overpopulation of her father’s realm 😆).

And Duke I liked in the other one too, able to see something vaguely…Other about his foster family, and the gods already seeming much too bright, but just with his meta ability.

Heh, I know I focussed a lot on Jason and the Outlaws, but they are very much my blorbos 😅.

💜

god i do really love Poseidon kid Jason (especially if we give Jason more of the earthshaker powers). he's definitely very similar to Percy in a lot of ways like you mentioned. HOWEVER while you bring up a LOOOT of good points for Poseidon kid Jason i think i want to stray away from having any of the batkids being kids of the big three? i feel like it might to into like,, mary sue territory (even though they're not really OCs but I'm lowkey kinda strict with my PJO aus and want to stick as close to canon as possible - meaning the big three only broke their oaths to not have kids with Percy, Jason and Thalia.) maybe ill do another au or something with Poseidon kid Jason because i really do love it lol

Athena kid Roy is interesting! unfortunately i don't know much abt Roy himself to really refute it or anything

as for Damian i definitely was playing with him being a magician, and maybe a legacy on Talias side? I'm not too sure on that part.

Astrape kid dick is also interesting! i haven't really looked at any of the more minor gods/goddesses for any of them but i can def see it! it's taking some of the traits of Zeus and toning them down a bit without really taking away the power. i still think I'm kinda attached to Hermes kid dick, but if we really want to give him flight we can give him the shoes similar to the ones Luke gave Percy in tlt

honestly mortal Tim does make sense and can also play into his insecurities on not being enough to fit dick or Jason's shoes as robin, since he's not a demigod he's just a regular kid. (however i think i am attached to Aphrodite kid Tim now lol but i do think mortal Tim could be good)

i think i may need a bit more swaying on Dionysus kid Stephanie but i do think its cool - it's definitely something i haven't seen before.

and yes i think Babs should just be a clearsighted mortal no matter how much i like Athena kid Babs. i did really want to play into the oracle name itself and her being the oracle of Delphi is good (however i don't really think her being the oracle itself - like Rachel- would fit in the au? unless they were all at camp i don't really know. i don't think the batfamily themselves need an oracle ? maybe she could be blessed (or cursed) by apollo )

i do like hades kid Cass but like i said with dick i kinda don't want any of them to be kids of the big three. but i think it fits her character - especially with her being a bit creepy as black bat/batgirl. but it might be interesting in terms of her childhood - if David was aware of her parentage he might have had higher hopes for this killing machine he wanted. this child of hades who is a master at reading body language and could kill with the touch of a hand? it could also tie into her adverseness of death itself - because she couldn't handle the feeling of death because of two contributing factors - her understanding of death through her hades powers (like Nico) and her understanding of body language. (hmmm maybe i might make an exception of my refusal of big three kids for hades Cass)

and yes!! i love the ideas of just meta Duke with no godly influence. it might be interesting for him to not be clearsighted - but that could bring in more ideas for how his powers affect his life. do you think he could see the outline or the shadow of a monster? or that his new foster family's eyes tend to glow slightly too bright and there seems to be something golden in their veins? maybe one of them could have some control of the mist like hazel does and would lift the mist later on for duke.

very good takes!! you're definitely making me think about these tho lol

[wolfsrainrules]

So I know you talked about Tsuna and his guardians in Soul Society, but what about the other way around? How would Ichigo interact with Vongola and who would his guardians be?

(I kind of like the idea of Dying Will Flames 'burning' reishi. Using it as a fuel source like wood in a fire. Which means Hollows don't often bother Flame Actives since they tend to register as nulls due to all their spiritual power being used up)

Hmmmmmm............This is fun thought. Honestly I feel like Ichigo would just SENSE a child in need of a big brother in Bullshit Shonen Protag Messes all on his own and somehow manifest from the shadows to take Tsuna under his wing tbh.

A baby Sky with wonky Flames due to a seal would just BLARE OUT into the universe and Ichigo would KNOW the second he got near Namimori. I do love the idea of DWF burning reishi. Also love Hollows avoiding it because the "null" feeling is also followed by rumors of them EATING hollows despite being human. (I imagine a null is a giant sign for hollows and others, because everyone should have SOME reishi but they just...appear to not. Now....Ichigo's Elements....Hm. Sky is of course, as we know, Ichigo. Storm: Grimmjow just feels right to me. Hes attached now. Sun: Nel my beloved. Lightning: Chad. He's such a protective little shit all around. Rain: Starrk I think. Mist: Kisuke. I feel it in my soul Cloud: Yoruichi. She didn't mean to okay.

Tsuna and his elements are about to get SO trained up. SOSO trained up. Ichigo isn't going to let him go in blind and weak. He recognizes a protector's soul in Tsuna and he knows exactly what will happen the moment Tsuna has to step up for his people.

He just...needs the right kind of handling.

Then he finds out about the seal and OH is he not pleased about THAT at all. Good thing he still has Kisuke's cane and can push a soul out of a body. Once the chains that are wrapped around his soul are visible its not HARD to get rid of them. Speeds some things up. Also actually kind of pisses Ichigo off very much, how Tsuna was handled and how the training was being handled. Yeah no. This is HIS kid now, fuck off.

Vongola isn't going to know what hit it at all

[blu-ish]

Something I just thought about when looking at Sonic’s techniques in frontiers is how they almost seem Silver inspired.

It’s been well established that Sonic has some form of aerokinesis and all of these attacks can be explained that way, but this was the first time from what I know of him using it to create forms of concentrated wind energy.

This brings me the idea of Sonic occasionally training with Silver to master these abilities as silver’s psychokinesis seems to work similarly. I definitely don’t see Sonic ever being able to pull off the levels of control Silver has to lift a whole island or something. Although I can see the blue blur being able to give wind a direction.

Sonic the airbender HSBSNSJSHSB NO FR THO I ADORE ALL THESE UNIQUE TYPES OF WIND ATTACKS. I can definitely see the Silver inspo.

Sonic’s whole power is mainly wind manipulation, (because of his speed, it makes sense) but recently (especially with the Sonic movies) it’s almost become more electrical. (Again, fast as the wind, quick as lightning type thang.)

Not like one is inherently better than the other, but I do like the idea of chaos manipulation in the forms of power that fit each individual character.

Sonic’s being wind, being that he’s quick (DUH LMAO) but also unpredictable, his abilities compliment that by creating cyclones and the like.

Same thing can be said with the other characters like Amy, Knuckles, and Tails in frontiers.

But if you compare Sonic’s power to someone like Shadow (for example), you can tell Shadows control over chaos (while artificial in nature) has the same level if not more destructive capabilities compared to Sonic’s which we can only assume is something he’s learned to control naturally like with his speed. (His flaw being his stamina, he burns way too much chaos energy compared to Sonic, which is why he’s not able to hold super form longer than Sonic naturally, especially when his rings are removed.)

Shadow uses chaos manipulation to create powerful strikes, like with his chaos spear or (same with Sonic) with the help of a chaos emerald, teleport. But his true power withheld by his inhibitor rings, to stay in control.

Silver is similar in a way, he uses some sort of chaos manipulation to use his own power of telekinesis. One that his inhibitor rings (again similar to shadow) help him control, if not, concentrate his power.

I can definitely see all the hedgehogs giving each other pointers about their chaos energy, (even in the form of moves) Silvers powers (while there’s still not much we know about his origins, then again same can be said with Sonic lmao) he definitely would be the one to have the most control or have to since his chaos manipulation takes more concentration. (Definitely would be amazing to see how his powers grow and shift over time PLEASE MAKE HIM PLAYABLE PLEASEEEE GIVE US A SILVER GAME— *gets shot*)

Chaos energy/manipulation is something I always found fascinating in the Sonic series. And Sonic’s move set has limitless potential because of it hsjshshs, LOOKING AT YOU SMASH BROS /aff

[eevee-d]

Hidan lore overthinking! Sorry bad english

The little information of Hidan's life completly brings Red flags all over.

OK. That one thing on the books when his whole village blamed a child Hidan for maybe killing an entire clan makes me think what kind of child they saw him as to be able to do all of that. Even if they confirmed later the Chinoike Clan killed each other, they still thought damn what if this fucking child killed them all.

This also means Hidan as a child thought to go to the place called "the Valley of Hell" where the Chinoike Clan got exiled to. Towards a clan that was dangerous af, and were also scary. The Valley of Hell was also referred as unlivable and smelling of sulfur. No one stopped him, who knows how long it takes from Yugakure to the Valley.

Then he finds the entire fucking dead, massacred by each other. Runs back to his village tells everyone and first thing they do is blame him.

By pure speculation of numbers, Hidan must've been 6 when the war ended. Which is not great. Getting raised through war probably did affect him as well. I know there's no information of Yugakure involvement in that war, but it's in the middle of the Land of fire and the Land of lightning so.

No information regarding parents so either:

Parent's whos kid left the village to a place called the Valley of Hell

No parents

No clue

Also the general idea of raising kids as soldiers and killing machines, and expecting it to be all good. To then be like: "fuck you were getting rid of the military" which how much Hidan talks about fighting like "letting steam off" (seperated to Jashin stuff) he must've liked fighting. It was an insult to him.

Also the Akatsuki have S rank Rouge Ninjas right? Was Hidan a top ninja at his village? Then we get the lack of Ninjutsu and Getsutsu. The symbol of jashin, the blood connection and immortality are never considered as anything jutsu right? These guy it's full Taijutsu and Jashin (which the fact that's never EVER explained that's crazy).

He called himself the slower attacker of the Akatsuki, but that's still crazy fast. He has a demonic momentum, even in the air moving his scythe around. He his beyond athletic too. (Go look at him skipping and spining Shikamaru's shadow).

His fighting is reckless. He throws himself in cause he knows he can't get killed and he is overconfident. But it's better being fast an eratic cause his main thing getting blood, That's why his weapon it's the way it is. He also relies a lot on his ritual and Kakuzu. He never expects people pulling him off his circle. -and when his head cut off he just relies on Kakuzu helping him out any ways.

It's said, he found Jashinism when he wanted to leave the village for demilitarizing. There is theories that Jashin isn't real nor the religion at all, and that Hidan it's immortal by chance. Like Hashirama healing factor being so good. So this mf got Immortal regen or something at birth. If he gained immortality otherwise, affecting the reality of his religion is also out there.

Hidan's approach to religion is also weird. Options: He belives a lie or he made it up and knows it's bullshiting OR it's real.

Hidan prays for LONG amounts of time (which Kakuzu complains about often) would he made up waiting for 30 minutes long just because? Or he belives in needing to pray for that long. Hidan constanly complains about "Kakuzu if this is another of your extra money missions i'm gonna be pissed! Let's just go for the Jinchuriki" I find it weird he would be 30 minutes praying in the ground if he didn't belive the HAD to do it (Disconnected to any validity to Jashisim). Hidan did try to annoy others (mainly Kkz) on porpose so much so... BUT he also referes to praying like 'a pain in the ass, but the comaments are very clear'.

Idk which is crazier: He doesn't believe it and made up shit he even complains about in his religion just to get something out of it (like a justification or martyrs) OR he fully believed in it and still was like "shit i have to pray 30 minutes for this bullshit".

ok... Important part here:

CAUSE WHY TF did Hidan get such a center persective during the Akatsuki plan exposition? (during the 2 tails extraction). He was the newest member ""besides Tobi"" and we got and explanation towards him from Pain himself (fish out the water, the character doesn't know something so they get a explanation so the audience gets it too). I think how the time frames got written sound pretty different based on other stuff but that doesn't matter. He jumps and critics the Akatsuki and Pain directly, we also get him gritting his teeth. Like damn we got introduced to an inner conflict of Hidan's believes against the akatsuki for no reason????? Right after this we also get a positive interaction with Kakuzu and Hidan. Kakuzu doesn't get mad at him for being so againts the leader, and gives him his headband instead. (which he kept tight on his arm for those 3 days of 2 tails extraction) His headband must also be unique compared to others that village no longer has ninja so getting another one can't even be a thing really.

I'm sad their arc was rushed and plenty of stuff got cut. But I understand the circuntsances: crazy schedule, Kishimoto sick, an arc centering someone other than Naruto.

Kakuzu prison and hashirama backstory was obviously there but we didn't get it. Hidan getting his backstory in extra material is also insane. I have no idea if the plan was still killing them by the end of a (longer version) of the arc or not. But maybe they would've gotten Sasori treatment. Get their backstories before they lose. They were the only ones that got cut short so much (besides Konan but she got the backstory in full flashbacks at least).

Kishimoto even had more extra funtions for Hidan's Scythe too. Constantly getting small answers about Hidan in random interviews with him also show what else there was to add to him. +Saying Hidan was his fav Akatsuki and villan too. Sad he also cut Hidan coming back in the war arc cause he had put so many characters, but he probably felt he couldn't do all he wanted to do with him- so left it there.

aka. I love Hidan's character :)

[sadistic-kiss]

House of Alphas Chapter 39: Gambling King

🐺House of Alphas🐺

(Jujutsu Kaisen Omegaverse )

Summary: Waking up in a world that was not your own was problematic enough. Being the villainess was another. However, the possessive alphas might take the cake.

Disclaimer: Angsty but I ain’t Gege

Omega!Reader x Alpha!Sukuna x Alpha!Gojo x Alpha!Toji x Alpha!Nanami x Alpha!Getou

Chapter 39: Gambling King

~

“Alright…” you huddled with your alphas standing on the opposite side of the cave.

The opposing team stretches and flips their weapons cockily, grins to match their attitude.

You released a little scoff looking at your group, “…Tell me about their abilities… everything you know.”

Nanami nodded toward the lead alpha, “Hakari is known as the master of fists. He’s close range.”

A fighter.

“Also…” Gojo began with slight irritation, “…he has a lucky dragon talisman.”

A fighter with a shit ton of luck…

You hummed rubbing your chin. Most fighters had good strength and defense but their resistance couldn't be too high. The problem was that talisman. Any dragon item was top tier. For a moment you second-guess this match. An item such as that was end game. Was Hakari that strong? You did hit him with your shadow blast and he did get a sneak attack in so there was no telling how strong the man was without seeing the little boss bar at the top of your screen followed by boss music.

Perhaps if you could get him surrounded and get a good hit off on him then you could win. But then there were the others. “What about his mate?”

“Gravity.” Sukuna muttered- A sorcerer…“…they can affect the gravitational pull on the targets they mark. Bringing them together or apart.”-so don't get touched.

“And the others?”

“Pawns.”

“Pawns are still soldiers. I need to know what they do.”

“ I got you...” Getou began, “B.J. is good with a bow, Spades is a sword user, Ace axes, and Jack works with javelins. I heard that their team has a hard time against elemental runs so they normally stick to strength matches.”

That would explain why all the gear Hakari sells is normally for raw armor and weapons, they normally don't have good magic items. Cool. A well-rounded team that doesn't do well against magic. You shut your eyes for a moment trying to imagine the battlefield in ‘game’ form. What would you do if you were fighting a team with a strong captain? Defeat the add-ons. That's strat 101.

You opened your eyes with a soft nod, “so…here’s what I'm thinking… If we can get rid of the pawns we can focus on Kirara and then Hakari. I don't think any one of us can go toe to toe with him and actually defeat him. Sukuna if you can dance with him for a little that would be good, shoot at him do whatever just keep him busy, don't exert too much energy though. Toji and Nanami I need you front line handling the big guys. Getou if you can help them with that, that would be great, summon Kirin, the chain lightning can assist in dispatching the meat shields and stunning them. Gojo and I will focus on Kirara and after that, we take care of Hakari… Any questions so far?”

“Yeah, why am I dancing with the opponent.”

“Sukuna... You are faced with someone who is faster than you and super lucky at that.” Which calls for easy crits- no wonder why he took everyone else out with one hit. “…you aren't going to beat him with brute force. I know your strength out matches his but one wrong move and he gains the upper hand. We need to counter luck right now and to do so is to higher our chances when we all attack him. We can lower his speed and guard, but only if we work together. Teamwork makes the dream work.”

“What does my team have to do with my dreams?”

“Uh, we help them come true! Duh!”

“You haven't the slightest idea what my dreams consist of.”

You sighed, “Listen! We gotta work together to defeat our enemies. This is important for any battle we get into. We are strongest as one, and it's especially important to understand when the enemy can outclass you, it doesn't mean they are better it just means you need to think of a counter, a different path. Understood?”

Toji grinned, “I love when you get all commander on us.”

“She’s so cute when she does that.” Gojo agreed.

You felt heat touch your face, “Uh~ well I like strategy games you know. You gotta learn how to make your disadvantages your advantages. Hakari’s team is strong but they also underestimate us. Let’s play them right into our hands.”

“Yes…she makes a good point Sukuna. ” Nanami is also pleased with you.

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say war chief.”

Getou snickered, “Oh you must join Nanami and me in a game of chess, it would be nice to go against an opponent that uses their brain for once.”

“Oi! What does that mean?”

“Nothing my sweet boy.”

You chuckled at Getou and Gojo who was making a pouty face.

-“Heeeeey~!” Hakari called for your attention.

Looking over your shoulder you watched the alpha jump around like he was Goku getting ready for the funnest fight of his life. Kirara on the other hand, looked forever bored like you guys were beneath their time. “Are we ready to do this?!”

“We were born ready!” Gojo yelled back, but truthfully Hakari and his pack only found anything your guys said or did amusing. Not even Sukuna’s glarey eyes were doing anything. It was like you were little pups trying to beat the elders.

You must gain your respect! “Hmph! Let’s wipe the battlefield with them.”

“Agreed.”

Your team spread out to get into position, you were in the center, Toji and Nanami took the front line, Sukuna and Gojo were to the left and right, and Getou was beside you.

Hakari and his pack hollered as they got excited.

“FINALLY”!

“Thought you guys were getting cold paws hm~!”

You kept your mind on the prize, ignoring the taunting words.

“I’m going to fuck them up…” Sukuna growled under his breath.

It was obvious their words were irritating your alphas. Especially so when…Hakari pointed a finger toward you, a wide grin on his face, “You're mine princess.”

What- he’s targeting you.

Toji stepped in the way, blocking you with his body, “Keep your filthy hands away from her.”

“I’m going to rip his arms off.”

Shit…

...

~

~Read More~

[everettswritings]

Got an idea for a cute story with a dash of angst if you want

How Shadow milk became the caregiver of regressor y/n....imagine if he had freed himself from the tree (or somehow freed himself again after the events of the story) and began roaming around, doing his usual antics! He eventually reaches y/n's home town/village/well...just home. He does his antics and y/n gets so stressed out, they regress and start crying like a baby.

For Shadow milk...why do I imagine...instant switch flip. From chaotic scary jester mode...to instant funny dad mode...also can imagine Shadow milk just realizing y/n is a regressor and goes '....ok, I'm a dad now. This is my baby now. All mine.' Just instant adoption...releases everyone else because now 1000000% focus is on baby now XD.

Just think the total sudden 180 would be funny lol...

BTW to explain...dash of angst that instantly gets resolved is y/n being terrified of Shadow milk lol...like seeing him all scary with evil laughter and so on scaring y/n so much.

Whole fic time! I actually really love this idea so much, Shadow Milk accidentally adopting someone(especially Y/N) just sounds weirdly canon. (NSFW/Kink accounts DNI!)

Laughter echoed through the air of Beast-Yeast, the maniacal cackling was as loud as lightning and even more frightening than such. Somehow, some way, the Beast known as Shadow Milk Cookie had breached his prison and was now spreading horrific chaos across the land. Circus-y music was blaring loudly and the noises of various acts being performed by mind controlled cookies only added to the cacophony.

You were crouched down in the corner of your living room with your ears covered, paralyzed by fear and trying to fight off your littlespace. You naturally screamed when you heard and saw someone crashing into your home, and you couldn’t help but shake as those heterochromatic eyes locked onto you.

“Well, well, well! What do we have here?!” Laughed the jester causing this madness as he approached you, fully intending to pull you into this like everyone else. You couldn’t hold it back anymore and involuntarily went into littlespace, instantly bursting into scared tears… somehow it made the jester pause in his advance. A look of concern spread across his usually-grinning face as he saw your tears rolling down your cheeks. He felt a pang inside him; but a pang of what? Guilt? Regret? He couldn’t quite decipher it, as it was probably a mixture of many emotions- he couldn’t recall the last time he felt something other than anger or manic joy. He crouched down in an attempt to look less threatening, feeling another wave of this emotion crashing down as you looked over with misted eyes. The jester gave a weak smile, “Hey, lil’ one… It’s alright. You’re alright…” He reached out for you, but you shrunk away. He retracted his hand and paused to think of how to turn your frown upside down.

The Beast’s grin returned to their face as a lightbulb went off; a puppet show! A puppet show was the perfect idea! They pulled a couple puppets out of thin air, clearing their throat to do the appropriate voices, which caught your attention again. One puppet was a baker and the other was just an ordinary guy- where would this go? The baker puppet held up a cupcake with a sleepy face stitched into the felt: “Here you go!” The baker said “One dozin’ cupcake!”, the ordinary guy grumbled “I said one dozen cupcakes!”.

You couldn’t suppress your giggles. The bit was a little dumb, sure, but it was still funny! At least to a regressed you. Shadow Milk Cookie’s grin widened with genuine affection and he decided to keep going, he kept pulling out assorted puppets and performing silly skits with them in order to make you laugh. Eventually, you decided to finally approach the jester and threw your arms around him in a hug. Although Shadow Milk Cookie was a bit surprised, he couldn’t say no to seeing you smile or hugging you back.

“Thank you, you’ve been such a wonderful audience!” They laughed, giving your little head a pat and handing you a little kettle-corn to snack on. As you graciously munched on the sweet treat, they breathed a relieved sigh that you calmed down. Maybe that’s what the pang was- a paternal feeling. They pulled you onto their lap and ruffled your hair.

“I guess I’m a dad now, huh?” They grinned.

That’s all! Ahh! Loved this, loved this, LOVED THIS! Thank you for the request! Have a good one 🫶

[kurticus]

Monitor Duty Company

“So I have been meaning to ask, what exactly are you?”

Danny was floating through the open space of the Watchtower bridge. Idly tossing a fist sized red bouncy ball with a yellow lightning bolt pattern off of the gray metal walls. The question came from the red speedster, Flash, who was lounging in the central chair of the room with his feet propped up on the control panel. Supposedly Flash was watching those monitors. But despite this being the third time Danny had visited the space station, he’d never seen Flash monitor anything. He just made conversation and told stories that Danny could not decide if he believed or not.

The question caught Danny as he sent the ball flying. He fumbled and twisted upside down as he barely caught the ball on its return. Nervously he straightened and replied, “What am I? Uh. Kind of a deep question isn’t it?” 

Flash waved his hand dismissively. “I mean the ghosty stuff. Not really my area of expertise. But you don’t strike me as a ghost.”

“Ha. Not ghostly enough for you?” Danny put his hands over his head and made his eyes glow. “Am I not spooky enough?” He waggled his fingers for extra effect.

In a blur Flash was standing next to him, giving Danny an over the top examination. Half bowing as he hummed in consideration. Then in an instant he was back in his chair spinning slightly. “Nope. Kid you don’t seem like a ghost at all.”

Danny let gravity find him again and drifted back to the floor with a light thump. He stood up straight and eyed a glance at his reflection in one of the grand windows of the space station. His hair was still white and he radiated a soft glow. Slightly annoyed, he asked, “What do you mean?”

“I have met ghosts. Sometimes they seem like normal people. Sometimes they are invisible voices that try to creep you out. Sometimes they turn into monsters and throw cars at you. Heck we have a part-time leaguer named Deadman. Nobody can see him at all until he decides to take over someone's body. I’ve never seen a ghost shoot lasers or make glowing shields like you do.” 

Suddenly a pencil eraser from somewhere on the nearby desk bounced off Danny’s face. Danny flinched and rubbed where he’d been hit. “Ow, stop that!” Looking back he saw Flash toying with a pencil innocently.

“Besides,” Flash continued, pointing the pencil at the ghost boy, “You are solid. Lots of spooky things have to work to be solid. You default to it. You gotta choose to go through stuff like J’on does. So I figure, not a ghost. Am I right?”

“Well, I am a ghost.” Danny tossed the ball back to the speedster. “But that is kind of a blanket term that gets complicated fast. Lots of things call themselves ghosts. Technically speaking, I am an Ecto-Entity.” Danny pronounced this with formality and a stiff back. Thinking of the way his parents said it. “Also more politely known as a Ghost of the Infinite Realms.”

“Infinite Realms huh? Sounds spacious.”

“You have no idea.” Danny picked his foot up and tucked it under himself. Then slipping past gravity he pulled the other foot up so he was sitting on nothing with crossed legs. Drifting slightly he continued. “Also called the ghost zone, it is an endless dimension of energy and emotion that exists in the shadow of reality. Basically emotions and memories from this world can imprint on the energy of the ghost zone. Then that energy forms stuff like me.” 

“So,” Flash smiled. “Just to be clear, you aren’t some creature that escaped from Hell to haunt the living?”

Danny flashed a crooked smile and shifted his eyes to a bright frost blue. “Keep the jokes up, I know how well you handle iced floors.” Still drifting lightly while sitting in air, Danny softly blew air at Flash. Dusting him is a light coating of frost and snow. 

“Cute.” Flash shivered slightly and brushed a few snowflakes from his shoulders. “So not the exorcism, don’t go into the light kind of ghost?”

Danny thought back to the flash of pain and light from the accident. “Uh, well… There can be some overlap…” 

**************************************************************

This conversation takes place after Danny has worked with the Justice League a few times and built some trust. Flash, after learning of his love for space, invites him to spend time at the watchtower. Giving him someone to talk to during his shifts on monitor duty.

I haven't written much myself, but there have been so many great posts lately about Danny interacting with the DCU. I might have to start my take as well.

Plus the question of how the lore interacts between the different shows is really compelling to me.

Let me know what you think. I haven't written much so I am sure there are plenty of pointers I could use. Hit me.

[violetlunette]

A little something inspired by this.

--

Silver shivered in the shadows of prison. 

The King claimed it to be his room, but a prison was a prison, and bars were bars, no matter how decoratively they were woven across the windows. 

Silver touched the gold that trapped him, giving an experimental pull. The bars held as firm as any iron would.

Silver sighed. It didn’t matter. Even if they were as soft as liquid or brittle as dust, Silver’s situation wouldn’t change. He saw the devastation that fell upon the people of the kingdom when he tried to leave.

Sliver clenched his eyes shut, but it only made the images of blood more vivid, the cries of desperation filling his ears as the land literally fell apart around them. He recalled the bursts of thunder as lightning struck the ground, setting ablaze flames so intense that the sea around the island began to evaporate.

His fist tightened around the bars, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

How could this have happened? It was just supposed to be a simple diplomatic mission where Malleus was to negotiate for materials Briar Valley desperately needed as their resources were stripped years before.

Silver met the King alone after getting lost, though he was unaware of who he was, at the time. Silver had no idea what he said or did, but somehow the guard had charmed the King. So much so, that the sorcerer offered a deal;

He would give Briar Valley whatever they wanted; the materials, money, an alliance—all they had to do was gift him Silver.

Of course, his companions refused.

“You no right to demand my retainer like a coin for metal or a toy you’re jealous of!” Malleus had coldly stated, backed by a furious Sebek. None stood more fiercely against the King than Silver’s father, however.

At first, Lilia remained calm and reasonable, however, as the madness of the King and his obsession began to reveal itself, so did Lilia’s fangs. He made it clear that—in no uncertain terms—would he ever give his son up. This act, however, ignited a fury in the spoiled King, who then revealed his wrath and power.

Silver and the others tried to flee, especially after Sebek was wounded in the chest, but they didn’t get far. 

Seeing the devastation upon the civilians of the island kingdom and worried for those he loved, Silver surrendered himself.

Lilia and Sebek fought and argued against both the King and Silver’s bleeding heart--

“I won’t allow this!" Lilia cried, thrashing against a binding spell. "You’re not taking my son!”

--but they were sent away with a spell, leaving the human behind.

Silver didn’t even get to say goodbye.

A stray tear traveled down Silver’s face, his heart aching with pain he never imagined. If he was using magic, he surely would have blotted over by now.

As he brought a hand to his face, he wondered how his family was and if they were safe.

'Father must still be angry by what I did.' Silver recalled the devastation in Lilia's voice and his face when Silver surrendered himself. 

The boy had no doubt that, wherever he was, Lilia was plotting a rescue and would attempt to follow through with it, whatever the cost. Silver hoped Malleus and Sebek stopped him.

Though he longed for his father, Silver worried that Lilia's actions would not only result in the latter dying but a war that would result in the bloodshed of others.

Thinking of this, Silver couldn't help but feel for his Prince. 

Silver knew Malleus cared for Silver just as much as his father but could not afford to do anything that would harm his kingdom, as a war with the Wizard King would.

Silver also felt his heart go out to Sebek, who would have to take on all of Silver's duties now.

'He'll never forgive me for this,' he thought as another tear fell. Sebek, who was like a brother to him, would hate him forever, Silver was sure. Not just for the pain Silver inflicted upon Malleus and Lilia but for the wound in his own heart as well. 

“You’re sad again.” 

Silver tensed at the sound of the deep, baritone voice. He started to turn but stopped, not wanting to look into the face of his captor. Quickly, he wiped his tears away with a furious hand, though it was obvious the other already saw his expression in the reflection of the glass. The King clicked his tongue as he approached, wrapping thick, muscular arms around Silver’s frame.

“No need to be like that,” he said into his ear. Silver shivered in disgust as the breath brushed over his skin. He clenched his hands tight and fought the urge to deck him. “If you’re sad, I can make you happy. I can give you whatever you want…” Silver struggled against the urge to throw the other off him, opting to drop his gaze so he didn’t have to see the scene reflected in the window.

“I want to go home,” the teen responded, eyes glaring so hard at the floor it was a miracle a hole didn’t appear. Silver was suddenly yanked around, a hand gripping his throat as magic pinned him to the wall.

Silver flinched as the magical engravings on his skin—the chains that now bound him to the King--burned like ice and fire. Even so, he clenched his teeth and glared at the King, whose gaze blazed with power not even Malleus could match.

“This is your home now. Don’t forget it,” he told Silver. Grief filled Silver as he realized his captor was right.

It didn’t matter how much he longed for the warmth of those he loved. This is where he would remain, both by force and his own choice, forever.

[dira333]

The Road Not Taken - part 14

Shibi x  female reader with a name - arranged marriage

Summary: Airi Nara seems a hopeless case, until her grandmother sets her up for an arranged marriage. But was marrying Shibi Aburame the right choice after all?

Masterlist ; Character sheet

Taglist open if you want to be added

-.- Airi -.-

They have been able to escape multiple times, slip out from under their grasp at the proverbial last second, but they’ve also been running in circles. 

Whoever is following them is as stubborn as an Inuzuka. 

Your foot is almost useless by now. The pain is so intense that it brings tears to your eyes when you cannot avoid putting weight on it. Iruka can mostly move on his own, if a little short on breath. Akane looks so pale she’s practically glowing in the growing darkness. They are in need of a resting place for the night, preferably one where they will not be found.

As they burrow themselves in a narrow opening beneath the roots of a giant tree, rain sets in. It’s the last thing they need on their already awful day. 

Their little nook is damp and cold, water drips in from too many places to count. 

Akane has first watch and you huddle into the corner, intent on getting the most of the few hours you have. Something crawls over your neck and you pause, fighting down your instinct to fling it away. It’s probably not one of Shibi’s bugs, but you’re training yourself to adapt to all kinds of bugs, to be gentler with them. You offer your hand and feel it crawl onto your finger. You cannot see anything in the darkness, so you tell yourself what color you want it to have.

If only it would be one of Shibi’s. If only it could lead you back to him, or lead him back to you.

“I want to go home.” You tell the bug, whisper it as quietly as you can. The rain swallows the sound but not the feeling of the insect lifting off your finger. It does not return.

-

“Wake up!” You’re shaken awake. Your ankle screams in pain when you sit up and grab your things. It’s still pretty dark outside, and you grab Iruka’s hand so that you don’t get lost. Akane must be at the front. The cold rain wakes you up sufficiently, soaks through your clothes in minutes.

Somewhere above you, lighting strikes. You duck your head instinctively but there’s no thunder. Again, another bolt of lightning and no thunder.

“Is that-” You ask as you stumble over roots. “It’s Kakashi!” Iruka yells back. “Akane recognized him just as we were about to be attacked.”

Kakashi. You have no idea how he got here, and just in time too, but you have no time to ask. The ground moves under you and you stumble, lose your hold on Iruka’s hand. 

Your head smashes into something. You pull your hands up, ready to defend yourself when you realize you cannot get up again, your right leg useless under you.

There’s not enough light to see, the rain swallowing almost any noise. You try to use your shadow, see flashes of steel, and then, suddenly, a warm, furry body right in front of you.

“Need a ride?” Tsume’s grin flashes in the eerie light of Kakashi’s lightning. You’re so relieved you could cry and maybe you do, the tears mixing with the rain pelting your face.

-

Kotetsu and Izumo are on guard when you arrive at the gates in the morning. You sure are a sight to see. Eight Shinobi have been sent out to find your team and the three of your five-person cell that remained alive.

You wonder what is in that scroll that it warranted such intense fights. You will probably never know.

All you want is to rest, to lay in your own bed, preferably with Shibi on one side and the kids on the other. Forget what happened. Play pretend, just for one day.

But this is Konoha, a village built by and for Shinobi.

Death is honorable. Injuries are inevitable. It’s all part of the job. 

You’re ushered to the Hokage tower because none of your injuries are life-threatening at the moment. Sure, your leg is broken in at least one place and you have a concussion, but that’s just a normal Monday.

There’s no chance to check in on your family but at least you know that Shibi is safe and home with the kids. It had been one of his bugs, if you understood correctly, that had alerted the Search Party in the first place. You wonder if it was the one you had found on your neck that last night. Or if it had been one hidden in your hair, deciding that enough was enough.

-

“Thank you for your work.” The Third takes the scroll from you and hands it to someone on the side. That could have been done without your attendance.

As quickly as you can the three of you summarize what happened in the time you’ve been away. It’s been over a week, a time period you still cannot fully comprehend. 

“How did you obtain the Scroll.” The Third’s eyes are on you now and someone clears their throat behind you, a clear sign that you zoned out for a second. 

It’s getting harder to focus with the hammering pain behind your eyes that makes your stomach jolt every time you dare to move your head.

“I asked nicely.” 

Another awkward throat clearing.

“I wasn’t aware we had such good connections to Kiri-Nin.” Another voice points out. Your neck-hairs raise at the sound and you turn your head slightly to spot Danzo standing near the door. He must have slipped in after you arrived.

“They were not Kiri-Nin. I think they were from Yugakure but they did not wear any Hitai-Ate.” 

Silence follows your correction.

You blink against the growing fog. Your head hurts so much.

“They had been hit by another team as well, only two remaining Nin. The female Shinobi was trying her best to save her comrade’s life and I bargained his life for the scroll. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to save him, but she accepted it eagerly.”

“And who gave you the authority to propose such a bargain?” Danzo’s standing right in front of you now. You have to put your head back to maintain eye contact and another wave of nausea rolls through you, strong enough to make bile creeping up your throat. You press a hand to your mouth as you swallow saliva. Whatever you do, you cannot throw up on Danzo. 

“I did.” Someone says to your right. You don’t dare to turn your head, but you don’t seem to have to. 

“Akane was barely conscious, Daisuke was dead, so I was the next in line as Team Lead.” Iruka declares firmly. “We discussed our options and I decided that this strategy would serve us best.”

“You’re telling me that you anticipated that not only would a team of Yugakure-Nin obtain the scroll but that they’d be in need of a Medic as well?”

Danzo’s voice is filled with condescension. Iruka doesn’t falter.

“Of course not. I’m not clairvoyant. But we agreed that if it came to it, it would be a valuable bargaining chip.”

“You’ve barely made Chunin and-”

“That’s enough.” Akane’s voice slices through Danzo’s words like one of her knives does through flesh. It’s a clean cut and he stops talking immediately.

“Iruka has shown commendable use of strategy. Even after I gained consciousness I did not feel the need to take over the role as Team-Lead. While I think he’d make a fine Jonin, I’d like to see him as a teacher at the Academy, perhaps. If anyone can teach my boy how to use his head instead of his fists, it would probably be him.”

“A fantastic idea to consider.” Lord Third declares and claps his hands. “I will look into this after you’ve all submitted your reports. But I think you all need to check in at the hospital first. Tsume, would you be so kind? I don’t think they can walk the distance.”

To your left and right, people start shuffling around. Danzo’s eye is still on you, holding you in place on the lone chair someone had pulled up for you and your useless leg. 

A hand places itself on your right shoulder and you whip around, nerves still on edge. The movement is too much for you, Might Guy’s shocked face the last thing you see before you lose consciousness.

-

Your body feels heavy when you wake like someone had poured lead into your joints while you slept.

You try to blink yourself out of your daze, annoyed when the room keeps spinning. You can’t move your head, not that it would help much with how everything blurs, so you clear your throat awkwardly.

A face pops up over you, a young woman grinning down at you.

“Hello again! This is the third time you’re gaining consciousness. This time you’re in an actual hospital bed. Do you remember me?”

“No.”

“No problem. I’m Rika. I was training under you, but I changed my hair recently, so you might not remember me.”

“Hi Rika, can you tell me what’s going on right now?”

“Of course!” Her cheerfulness is almost too much for you. “We fixated your neck and treated your concussion, now we’re going to work on your leg and-”

“YOU LITTLE-” A shrill voice cuts through her explanation. You try to turn your head but fail. It doesn’t really matter. Something clatters loudly to the floor followed by the voice of a child you’d know everywhere.

“Naruto!” You can hear Iruka, his voice a little breathless. “Behave!”

“They won’t let me through!” The boy wails. You manage to grab Rika’s arm and pull yourself up, her protest falling on deaf ears.

Naruto’s standing in the middle of the busy room, snotty-nosed and dirt smeared over his face. Behind him, a nurse picks herself up from the floor that’s covered in the contents of a tray that had fallen over.

Iruka’s on the bed opposite of yours, shirt gone as two medics have their glowing hands pressed against his torso. He’s a little pale but otherwise fine.

Akane is nowhere to be seen, but your vision’s still blurry, so you could be mistaken.

“Naruto.” You try a little calmer. “Come, wait with me. Iruka’s fine, but they need to move around him and we don’t want to get in the way.”

“You look bad,” Naruto tells you plainly. “Are you going to vomit?”

You want to say no when you do just that.

-

Rika takes charge after that. The last you see of Naruto is his yellow hair burning brightly by Iruka’s side. 

Your bed moves, or maybe that’s just your head. 

At some point, the room falls quiet around you and you blink up to the ceiling to find that while it’s not spinning anymore, this is definitely a different ceiling than before.

“Where are we?” You ask.

“Surgery.” Rika smiles down at you again. “Nothing serious, but we need to set your ankle right. You won’t feel a thing.”

“Rika,” You pull on her scrubs. “My husband. Have you seen him?” 

“Oh?” She looks surprised. “I didn’t know you were married. I will ask the head nurse right after we get out of surgery, alright?” 

You suppose you can’t do anything about that right now.

But you wish Shibi was here. You wish Shino was here too, and Torune, even though you’re probably still covered in vomit and dirt and blood. 

Something buzzes above your face. You blink against the bright lights to find a single Kikaichu flying above your face. It settles on your temple and rests there and you imagine the lingering touch to be from Shibi’s lips.

-.- Shibi -.-

Hana finds him just a few feet from his door, brimming with joy. 

She’s only eleven and to be chosen by her mother to bring him the news of Airi’s arrival means the world to her. 

“I have to go pick up Kiba.” She dismisses herself straight after. “Tell Mom I did a good job when you see her.”

She leaves him with a difficult decision.

Does he grab Shino and Torune or does he leave them behind? He knows Shino won’t stay home knowing you’re finally back, but what if you’re not in a condition to be visited? 

Before he can lose himself in the what-ifs he lifts his arm and sends out his Kikaichu, just a few of them, with the mission to find you. He’d do it himself, curses his self-control that makes him consider his children before himself.

But would he be himself, the one you care for, if he’d be any different?

-

The door closes behind you just as he arrives at the hospital.

“I’m here for Airi. Aburame Airi.” He exclaims, Shino to his left, Torune to his right. 

“Oh, she’s just gone into surgery.” The nurse explains, squinting through her glasses. “Her leg’s broken and she’s got a concussion, but otherwise she’s fine. Are you friends or family?”

“Family. Why? I am her husband and these are our sons.” 

Torune blushes vividly, even more so when Shibi puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

The nurse coos. “Of course, of course. I’m sorry, we’ve had some problems with our paperwork ever since Kazue left. We didn’t even know Airi was going to be on a mission, we expected her to show up for work last Wednesday.”

“Show up for work?”

“Oh yes. But why don’t you grab a hot chocolate for the boys first and meet me back here in ten? We can go over the details then. Maybe you can do something about that mess of a child too.”

He follows her pointed finger to find Naruto sitting in the waiting room, gnawing on some kind of long gummy worm like it’s a bone.

“He came to see Iruka and wouldn’t leave.” The nurse explains with an air of condescension. “Thankfully Kakashi was still here and had the idea of bribing him with sweets.”

“Where are they? Kakashi and Iruka?”

“Iruka’s in surgery as well. I don’t know where Kakashi went, that boy is like the wind.”

“Come,” Torune says softly to his right and offers his hand to Shino. “Let’s comfort Naruto while we wait.”

“Do we have to?”

“Mom would be happy. I am sure he’s worried about Iruka.”

Shino huffs softly, lets go of the piece of his father's cloak he’d been clinging to.

“Fine. But I want to see her as soon as we can. Why? I need to give her my present.”

“I will call you as soon as she’s out of surgery.” He promises.

-

His Kikaichu alerts him minutes before the nurse even knows that you’re out of surgery. 

She’s still going over your data, explaining in neverending circles how Kazue seemed to have mistakenly left out the fact that you’re married as if that changes anything about the fact that you’re the one to be offered a position.

They probably bank on him being too relieved that you made it to care for these obvious mistakes. But he’s an Aburame. He might forgive, but he never forgets. And he might stay silent now, but that doesn’t mean he will forgive this lightly.

To offer you a position is one thing, to ask your grandmother, an elder of your former Clan, if you’re able to take it, something entirely else. 

When he gets up, the nurse looks up in surprise.

“Do you-”

“Airi just got out of surgery.” Shibi does not care to explain how he knows. “We will see her now.”

Behind him in the waiting room, Torune is quietly explaining something to both Naruto and Shino, the small boys transfixed by his story.

A shadow peels itself from the doorframe, silver hair falling over one eye.

“Hey, kid.” He points at Naruto when all three boys look up. “I was just going to get some Ramen. Do you want to come? I think there’s still some time before they’re done with Iruka. We could bring him up a bowl when we’re finished.”

“Who are you?” Naruto asks for a second, cocking his head to the side.

Kakashi falters visibly but doesn’t get a chance to explain himself before Naruto shrugs and gets up.

“Ramen is fine. You’re paying. I want three bowls.”

-

The door to your room is open. Shino’s steps falter to the point he’s dragging his feet. 

Torune’s the first one to step inside. You’re sitting in bed, a neck brace keeping your head in place but you seem to sense them, stretch out your hand as if to call them.

“Shino?” You ask softly, interrupting the medic who had been explaining something to you. “Is that you? Torune? Shibi?”

“I will come back in a moment.” The medic excuses herself with a smile, leaving them. Shino’s still frozen in place by his side but Torune steps forward and takes your hand into his gloved one, shakes it softly.

“I am glad you’re back.” He says calmly, but his voice carries more emotion than can fit in his words. 

“Oh, Torune, I missed you. The pills you gave me saved so many lives.”

“Mom.” Shino pulls away from Shibi, taking the few necessary steps urgently until he’s barrelling into her. “Mom, I’m sorry!”

“Oh, Shino, I know. I know.”

Shibi steps forward, lifts Shino to make sure he doesn’t hurt your injured leg in the process of climbing up.

You smile at him, telling him without words what he wishes he could say.

I love you. I missed you. Don’t you ever dare leave.

-

Hours later when he’s managed to take you home he carefully lifts you into the bathtub to wash off the grime. The boys are downstairs, recalling the events of today to the cat. 

“Hey.” You tell him softly, hand cradling his cheek. “How are you?”

Shibi huffs softly. “You’re asking me that?”

“Yeah. You’ve been different. Quieter. Are you okay?”

“I almost lost you.” He whispers and you respond by leaning forward, pressing your temple against his.

“I love you.” You say and he admires how easily the words seem to come over your lips. He’s been thinking it for so long, yet he can’t bring himself to voice it. Why is it so much more difficult now that he knows you reciprocate? Is it because he knows what could be? Because he knows just how fragile this is?

He pulls away first, busies himself with making sure the cast around your leg is safe from any splashing water. 

Taking care of you like this brings back memories of his first marriage. You must sense his distress because your hand finds his shoulder. That is what grounds him first. Your hands are what defines you, he thinks. Your hold is firm, your skin calloused from hard work, yet you are never harsh. 

“Stay.” You say. It doesn’t sound like a question, but he can read in your eyes that it is. You’re not demanding. 

He washes your hair, watches quietly as dirt and blood wash off your skin. He could almost convince himself that nothing has happened if he blends out the cast on your leg or the brace around your neck.

“The night we were found,” your voice is soft, does not cut through the Silence but rather pinches it, like one does carefully with a filled balloon, “There was a bug on my neck. I could not see it because it was dark, but I wanted it to be one of yours. How many did you leave with me?”

“Ten.” He recalls. “They like to hide in your hair.”

“I like that.” You carefully turn so that you can face him. “I like to have you with me.”

“I love you.” The words stumble over his lips awkwardly and he needs a moment to realize that they came from him. It’s the blooming smile on your lips that tells him the truth.

“I know.” You lean into him. “I love you too.” 

“We need to talk. About the mission.” His mind won’t let it slip. There’s still so much to consider.

“And the hospital.” You agree simply.

“Yes. And-”

“Shh.” You kiss him softly, lean further into him. “Not today, okay? Today, I just want to be home with you and the boys. I just want to love you and be loved.”

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