#band of seven arc

[ogoatsuyuuta]

band of seven remains the best inuyasha arc hands down never realized that koga (kyokotsu and ginkotsu) and sesshomaru (mukotsu and yes i'm counting suikotsu) tie for most kills... i guess inuyasha has 2 as well but to me he didn't really kill jakotsu... bankotsu i think is undoubtably a body for inuyasha. this rewatch made me respect koga a bit more in terms of power he was literally the first person to kill a band of seven member. two before inuyasha even got one!

[folkinsomnia]

uncomfortably close to rewatching inuyasha. dear god save me

[izakimi]

drawing more jakotsu and yura im sorry in advance.. need to get these ideas out of my system

[avionvadion]

"A long~ long time ago in a tragedy~ if ever comes a day that I go away; in a forest deep, you'll sink like a stone. From that moment~ on, you'll go alone..." - Alice

I decided to change Irene's outfit to something else for when she jumps through the well to permanently stay in the Feudal Era. She ends up using the kimonos and furoshiki Sesshomaru gave her to create a connection to that time period, with the well as the... conduit? Is that the right term? For her to travel through.

She ends up completely missing the entire Band of Seven arc, though, lol, but she shows up just in time for Hakudoshi!

Original version without the filters!

[gremlinshipper]

rewatching inuyasha has reminded me that I'm absolutely all about the filler episodes

[infamous-if]

you can’t completely avoid any character in infamous especially in a story in which you are forced to be put in situations on a TV show built for drama and doing that would mean I’d have to rework full scenes so I can’t exactly do that, your MC does not have to be happy about interacting with seven but much like in real life, we have to interact with co-workers we don’t like …

a lot of people hate Blake but I can’t write them out of certain scenes, I’ve been told multiple times that people don’t want to deal with G like idk that’s the way of the game IK it’s interactive fiction but it’s still a story with a plot and a purpose at the end of the day…MC is part of an ensemble cast on a television show, they dont run the show so they have to do things they dont want to do sometimes!

I try my best to give the option to keep Seven at arms length but there are also sevenmancers I have to take account of, people who want to interact with sev whether to romance them or to simply learn more about their shared history

not to mention that sev is a vital part of the band's storyline and the band route so things need to be established with them for the band's arc to make sense

What I can do is I can try to add the option to ignore Seven and cut a scene short if it’s not important, but I cant promise that every scene will be like that. Unfortunately, MC will have to interact with Seven on occasion lol

Cory is like actively trying to make sure that happens as well

sorry! ik it sucks but there's not much I can do beyond having to rework entire plot points and I dont want to do that <3

[anthurak]

Okay so a few things I think are worth discussing about Lucifer’s very noticeable non-presence in Mastermind, and how it is very much NOTED by the narrative:

For one, I think this pretty firmly sets Helluva Boss, certainly the show up to this point, as taking place BEFORE Hazbin Hotel, or at least the events of the first Season. As in, Lucifer is clearly still a hyper-depressed shut-in spending all day making rubber ducks.

Which brings us to the next point; concerning the hints we seem to be getting this episode that Satan is taking advantage of Lucifer’s absence to try and rule Hell in his stead.

The thing is, I’m pretty sure this is a plot point that will NOT be resolved in Helluva Boss, but rather in Hazbin Hotel. As in, the dealings and power-plays of the Seven Deadly Sins are well outside the scope of characters like Blitzo, Moxxie or even Stolas, yet are EXACTLY the sort of thing we could expect CHARLIE to be dealing with.

Basically, I think this stuff with Satan this episode, not to mention the brewing conflict between Asmodeus and Mammon that got setup in the midseason special, are essentially setting up plotlines for Hazbin’s future seasons.

As in, Season 2 or 3 of Hazbin will have Lucifer, and more notably Charlie, working to unite the seven rings of Hell, aka putting Lucifer’s old band/theater troop back together, aka Charlie having to deal with all her wacky, dysfunctional aunts and uncles.

In particular, I think it’s especially interesting to consider CHARLIE having to do all this, possibly due to Lucifer being otherwise occupied by goings-on in Pride (say, negotiating with Heaven).

For one, it gives us a potential ‘Charlie and Vaggie taking a road-trip through the seven rings’, but more notably I think it’s easy to imagine this providing Charlie with a whole arc about Charlie growing into a leader. Specifically, the future leader of Hell.

I mean we’re already throwing around ideas of Lucifer dropping in to smack Satan back into line, but what if instead it was CHARLIE? It makes perfect sense, right? Charlie is at first trying to play nice and get her aunts and uncles to help, and while Ozzie, Bee and maybe Belphagor might be sympathetic, Mammon, Leviathan and Satan are just as quick to shoo her off and ignore her.

Until Charlie has had enough of this shit, gets her next-level power-up and kick’s Uncle Satan’s ass.

[redstringraven]

Fika

characters: don, klunk, leo, mikey and raph rating: g content warnings: n/a word count: 4288 relevant tags: sick fic, sick leo, post-episode: good genes

(n.) a moment to slow down and appreciate the good things in life a leo sick-fic, requested by @sakuradiva for @tmnt4p !

[ read on ao3 ]

You may as well have called the first sneeze an alarm bell. The instant it echoed through the reservoir station, each and every one of them in range perked up, heads swiveling like a bunch of prairie dogs.

Raph seeks out Don first. He scans the open first-level of the reservoir station until he catches Don’s eye--a second after Mikey does. Don glances between them, his expression at first wide. Then his lips curl downward, and he huffs. “—that wasn’t me.”

There's no attempt to hide the irritation in his tone (and Raph couldn’t blame him); a week or two of one helicopter sibling is annoying enough. Don had three. Plus Master Splinter. Plus April and Casey. Plus Leatherhead. Seven people in a semi-constant state of worry, hovering, asking questions, growing tense with anything that could be a small sign of 'relapse'. It had to get smothering at some point. And even Don had a limit to his so-called infinite patience.

“—Oh!” Mikey says. He pauses, his eyes darting from Don, to Raph, and back again--clearly scrambling to deflect from what Don had drawn attention to. “—Well. It wasn’t ME. My sneezes are a lot more… uuuuh…”

“Needy?” Raph offers.

“Yeah!” A beat. Mikey's eyes widen, then he shoots a squint at Raph. “—Hey, wait.”

“Sorry.” Leo moves out of the kitchen, mug in hand, having lowered the heel of his palm from his beak. “I, uh. I think I might’ve stirred up some dust while I was looking for the chamomile.”

Mikey relaxes, likely happy to accept this answer and move on, but Raph’s brow arcs. “Thought you’n Mikey gave the cabinets a good wipe-down earlier this week.”

“We did,” Leo says. He shrugs. “Guess… some of it must still be in the air. I dunno.”

...lying, Raph thinks, though he’s careful to keep the suspicion from reaching his eyes. He shifts his attention to Mikey just in time to catch the tell-tale signs of worry: a sudden stillness, like a deer in headlights, and the slightest strain around the eyes. It’s gone as soon as it arrives, and Mikey replaces any sign of it with an impish grin.

“Looks like someone was slacking on cleaning duty,” he jabs, knuckles propped on his hips. He tilts his weight forward and tuts his tongue. “For shame, Bronardo.”

Leo sends Mikey a passive smirk. He huffs and starts up the steps toward his room. His free hand finds the stair-rail and stays there. Raph locks onto it. He can't help but notice Leo's not resting his palm on the metal; he's holding it.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes with an idea of what we need to knock out today,” Leo says. There's a slight wilt in his posture—and now that Raph thinks about it, he realizes Leo's feet drag just enough to make his usual silent steps borderline audible. Raph shifts his weight and fixes his jaw, forcing himself to hold his tongue. Leo looks back over his shoulder after reaching the threshold of his room and continues, “Donnie, I’d appreciate it if you sat it out another day.”

Don sighs, but he waves a hand lazily over his head. “Heard loud and clear, boss.”

Leo’s door shuts, and silence settles back over the station. Raph remains by the weapons rack, and Don keeps his attention on the blueprints he has spread across the table he'd claimed as his temporary workbench. Only Mikey moves, plucking at one of his wrist bands, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the subtle rise in tension.

“...--you think I can squeeze in just enough Resident Evil 4 that I can get far away from a save point, and he’ll have to wait until I reach the next one to turn off the game?” Mikey asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer; instead, he flashes Raph a wide grin and bolts for the couch with a cackle. The televisions flash and hum to life, and Raph lets out a blend of a sigh and a growl. His eyes shift to Don.

Don’s already looking at him. Even with the faint purple stains under his eyes, the mild sag of his skin, there’s a sharpness in his stare. Raph recognizes it. He knows they harbor the same concern.

“Donnie?”

“Yeah, Mikey?”

Mikey huffs as he enters Don’s room, scratching at his cheek.

“Have you seen Klunk? He was snoozing on me like usual this morning, but… I kinda didn’t want to get up and give him his breakfast just yet." A terrible betrayal, if he were being honest. But he'd really just wanted five more minutes (which turned to ten, to fifteen, to twenty), and Klunk grew bored of swatting his face. Totally lost track of time after that. Mikey frowns, sending another short glance over his shoulder to eye the station. "He must’ve gotten cranky and left, but he wasn’t in the kitchen.”

“No,” Don says. He rotates a bit more in his chair to face Mikey and sets his pen aside. His jaw tightens, shivers as he points toward the door (an attempt to redirect attention as he stifles a yawn). “But--uh. I know he’s really fond of that one spot by the water?”

Mikey shakes his head. “Checked. Nada.”

“Oh…” Don’s brow furrows. “Well… --have you asked Leo? He might’ve seen where Klunk ran off to; he's been up a while.”

“Good idea. Thanks, Donnie!”

Don grunts a sound in place of a “you’re welcome”, and Mikey jogs back into the heart of their new lair.

There is, of course, a risk he ran entering Leo’s room: he’d narrowly managed to wiggle his way out of work yesterday, and he doubted he’d get similar results today. Leo may not be… grumpy anymore, but he was still Leo. A bit of a stickler—a: wet blanket, one might venture. You could only keep up a single ruse with him for so long.

Leo's door is open when he reaches it (a welcome sight, considering how often it’d been closed in the months before), and Mikey allows himself to cross inside. The space is rather bare--with little left to salvage from the second lair and a mutant outbreak to clean up, they found themselves back at square one in terms of decor. But Leo still found a way to make the few things he had feel clean and in order. Mikey could feel almost a rhythm in the way he'd stacked books on the floor, where he placed candles, and where Leo chose to sit when he meditated. He’s also quick to spot the ball of orange fur settled into Leo’s lap.

“Hey, Leo!” Mikey chirps, careful to keep his voice just low enough so as not to startle either of them. He waits a second for one of Leo’s eyes to open before continuing, “mind if I steal Klunk off ya?”

Leo smiles. But it’s… a tired? smile? Mikey can’t remember the last time Leo looked tired in the morning (y’know; like a normal person).

“I’m surprised you didn’t come get him sooner,” Leo mutters. He closes his eye again. “Sure.”

“Thanks!”

Mikey takes a wide step into the room and crouches. He digs around in his belt, locating one of Klunk's favorite snack-tubes.

“Oh Kah-looooonkkkk,” he says, putting on his best sing-song-I-totally-got-treats-for-you-love-me-please voice, “you want some tube~?”

Klunk lifts and tilts his head. Rather than get to his feet and trot to Mikey’s side, he shifts his weight, tucking his legs securely under his body. Mikey blinks.

That's weird. Klunk never turns down an offer for tube.

Even Klunk seems to acknowledge this; his tail twitches irritably, and his ears flatten out. It's like he wants to get up but…

“...hey, Leo?” Mikey props his elbows on his knees, frowning. “Has Klunk been with ya like this all morning?”

Leo’s shoulders lift in a half-shrug. “Guess so.”

“Huh.” Mikey pouts. Klunk hated a late breakfast. There hadn’t been scraps in his bowl, so no one had fed him yet. Why isn't he screaming for food? ...he's definitely still sending me dirty looks.

Mikey drums his hands on his inner knees. He opens his mouth—another question forming on his tongue—but snaps it closed when Leo suddenly sniffs. It's a wet, strained sound, and his posture rolls forward a little. Almost like he’d just gotten dizzy, or the breath had taken more effort than it should've. Come to think of it, it... did look like Leo was breathing through his mouth more than his nose. His lips were parted slightly. Mikey squints—glances from Klunk to Leo—and straightens up. “...your, uh... nose still bugging ya, bro?”

“A little.”

“...iiiis that all that’s bugging ya?”

Leo frowns, but he keeps his eyes closed. His brow wrinkles. “What do you mean?”

“I dunno,” Mikey says, “iiiit’s just… y’look kind of tired? And… Klunk super doesn’t wanna leave your lap. Which is weird! Because he hasn't had breakfast! And I offered him a tube! He ALWAYS wants tube.”

Leo opens his eyes and frowns as he looks at Mikey. Mikey shifts his weight and wrings his wrists in his lap. Leo didn’t have that needling look in his eyes like he had a few months ago, but… guess he’d started expecting a half-hearted glare and a growl.

Leo must have realized this, too. He winces, and his features weaken.

“Mikey, I’m okay,” he says. Mikey's lips twitch into a weak smile, but it must not have looked convincing. Leo sighs, "really, I’m just… Maybe I've just got a cold.”

“—a cold?” Mikey echoes, all at once alert. His throat tightens. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knows it's irrational, but he doesn't care. He searches Leo’s limbs—any visible section of skin. But nothing looks open, or irritated or… mutated. They'd gotten separated in Bishop's lab for a while after Don got loose. Leo hadn't said anything about encountering other feral mutants, but...

Mikey rolls his lips together, eyes snapping up to meet Leo’s. “You… didn’t get, y’know. Stung. Or anything and didn’t tell us, did you?”

Leo’s expression drops. “What? --no, Mikey. Why would you—”

“—I should get Donnie,” Mikey interrupts, springing to his feet. “Just in case!”

“Mikey, I didn’t—”

“—I’ll be right back!" He jabs a finger at Leo and shakes his head. "Don’t even think about going anywhere! Klunk's loafing on you for your own protection!! DON'T DISRESPECT HIM!”

And he bolts before Leo has the chance to respond.

Don hadn't been the only one tailing Mikey back to Leo's room. Raph followed close at their heels, but he took to leaning on the corner wall rather than hover at Leo's side. Something Leo, admittedly, found himself grateful for.

Quick to busy himself as always, Don took to checking Leo for scratches, bites, stings--any possibility Mikey listed off, thought about or began to fuss over. Klunk, his duty now fulfilled, had grown tired of Don's close proximity, and he swiftly sprang from Leo's lap, trotting to headbutt and rub against Mikey's heels instead. He still circles them now, a soft, steady purr vibrating in his chest. Leo wonders if all cats are like this: aware and attentive of who needs their comfort, and so eager to provide. Or if it's something unique to Klunk... like the little animal knew Mikey had given him a better life, here, and he was in their debt. 

He almost snorts at himself. Probably silly to think cats thought in transactional ways... and something he still needs to work on, himself.

“You’re SURE he's not sick?” Mikey asks suddenly. He fidgets with his mask-tails, unable to stop himself from glancing in Don’s direction. “Like..." he winces, but hints anyway, "sick-sick?”

Don huffs, keeps his eyes down.

Leo frowns, and he shakes his head. “I didn't get stung or bit by anything, Mikey. I promise."

Unless we’re counting that mutant the dragons had set loose. There's a brief second where the thought sends a wave of alarm through his chest, but it's quick to settle. That happened months before the mutagen outbreak in the city. Surely, if it was a similar kind of illness, it would have made itself known by now. He'd been bitten long before Don had been stung, and Don's symptoms began surfacing in the following weeks. His brothers must be thinking something similar; Mikey continues to send looks in Don's direction, and Raph remains oddly quiet. The silence starts to feel heavy, and Leo winces. “Sorry, Donnie.”

“—don’t,” Don hastens, frowning at him. “Really.”

"So," Mikey starts, "he's not sick-sick? He's just... siiiiick-sick?"

Don sends him a dull stare. "You can just say 'infected', Mikey."

"Sorry."

"It's fine. But, no. I don't think he is." Don glances at Leo and shrugs. "There aren't any 'entry points', like he said. And I doubt he ate anything at Bishop's."

Leo grunts and wrinkles his nose. Mikey shifts his weight, unsatisfied. "What... --what about that thing we stole from Karai? --he's the one who touched it first. Do you think it cursed him?"

"Mikey--"

"--don't act like it's not possible, Don!" Mikey interrupts, clenching his fists at his sides. "We've time traveled! Space traveled! There's a whole city under our feet right now! --And--what about that... that big, red alien-monster thing that almost got Angel's bro?! --That old guy--he was totally cursed and stuff!! What if--"

“--it ain’t that deep,” Raph grumbles, his voice low but sharp enough to cut Mikey off. He pushes off the wall, propping his hands on his hips. “I bet it’s ‘cuz this bozo got back from Japan and hit the ground runnin’. Ain't stopped since.”

Leo squints, and Raph holds up a hand, 'counting' off his fingers as he continues, “I doubt ya slept on the boat trip over. Y’came lookin’ for each of us—got us all back in one place. Fought Karai. Got us back on our feet, the station up 'n runnin'. The first few mutants start showin’ their ugly heads. We get sent back to the jurassic period—”

“—cretaceous,” Don mutters, and Raph scoffs.

“Whatever! --Look, my POINT is, y’ain’t stopped movin’ once. You probably went and wore yourself out! Even more than usual!”

“You were kinda training like crazy for a while,” Mikey adds, rubbing his neck. “Like. A lot a lot. All the time. I guess maybe you chilled while you were in Japan, but... also not really.”

“Raph… has a point, Leo,” Don says. He looks to Leo and shrugs. “April’s talked about this sort of thing before. Like, when she was in college? She said during the holiday breaks, she’d come home and not have anything to worry about, and it was like her whole body released a ton of tension all at once. She’d have a horrible stomach ache for that first day home. Maybe… this is your version of that.”

“This is the quietest it’s been since…” Raph pauses, growls, and shakes his head. “It’s the quietest it’s been in a good, long while.”

Leo frowns. He can't think of any kind of argument. Or, at least, all the arguments that were coming to mind wouldn’t help with anything. Either Raph would get irritable, or Mikey would get antsy and more nervous than he already was. And Don... while Leatherhead had been confident there wouldn't be a chance of relapse, they'd decided not to risk anything. Guess it'd be pretty hypocritical of him to go on insisting he was fine, when they'd all decided he wasn't.

What was it the Ancient One said about surrender? Leo almost couldn’t help but smirk and chuckle to himself. “Alright. I guess I could take a few days to do nothing. Join Don in being a couch potato.”

“Sounds ideal to me,” Mikey says.

Leo’s smirk widens. “I bet it does.”

“If anyone deserves a ‘nothin’ day ‘round here, it’s you two workaholics,” Raph says, pointing a finger interchangeably between Don and Leo.

“And Klunk will make sure you both stay sitting down!” Mikey scoops Klunk off the floor. The cat mews in protest, wiggling for a moment before tucking against Mikey's chest. “He’ll be making the best biscuits this side of Brooklyn. Aren't you lucky?”

 Raph snorts, and he thumps a fist against Mikey's shoulder. “Mikey and I will finish what needs t’be done around the lair for the day. Take a load off. Enjoy free biscuits from the stupid cat, and be ready for movies and a hot meal t'night.”

Leo could hear Mikey and Raph in the kitchen, but he couldn’t tell if they were bickering or just talking. Guess those were one and the same when it came to those two.

He and Don had taken to the couch, as promised. Don tinkers with his shell-cell while Klunk watches from his lap, and Leo, settled under a thick blanket, adjusts the book in his hand.

It'd been surprisingly difficult to pick which of his few books he'd wanted to start, and there was something bittersweet in the reminder that he'd have to rebuild his library a second time. He'd selected one of the fiction novels--an old fantasy, filled with mists, magic, and a winding world. He'd already read it a time or three, but the familiar pages were comforting and easy to get lost in. A small voice in the back of his mind still grumbled and tutted that there was work to do, things to check, responsibilities and tasks he'd been setting aside for higher priority items. But he ignores it (for now).

Klunk stands and arches his back. His mouth splits into a large yawn, and he gives his tail a lazy little flick before carefully padding out of Don's lap. Leo smiles and chuckles as the cat moves onto his legs instead, already purring loud enough to drown out whatever conversation fills the kitchen.

Don smirks. “Looks like it’s your turn to get cat-sat, Leo.”

“Yeah.” Leo opens a hand so Klunk can headbutt it, and he ruffles his head with the heel of his palm. “Guess it is.”

Don chuckles. He sits back against the couch again and sighs, letting his hands and the shell-cell drop into his lap. Leo slants his eyes toward him. His smile sinks a little as he watches Don tug one of the throw blankets higher over his chest. “...feeling alright, Donnie?”

“Yeah,” Don huffs, “my energy just gets totally sapped after a certain hour. It’s really annoying.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Mn. ...what about you?”

Leo’s brow furrows. “I… think so? I mostly just feel… heavy.”

“Yeah.”

“But not… --not the same kind of heavy I felt before, just…”

“I know,” Don murmurs. There’s something… different in his tone, now. Leo can’t quite put a word to it. Don continues, “I think Raph hit it right on the money. You get back from Japan and… we get you back… but you haven’t really let yourself have much time to breathe, have you?”

“I could say the same to you,” Leo says, “you’ve been working to get the reservoir station up, functional and livable since we got here. Even while you were getting 'sick'.”

“Maybe. But… I hadn’t just come back from a huge trip with a completely different timezone—a-and, I hadn’t been…" He pauses, cautious. "...I dunno. ...struggling...? At least not like you."

Leo frowns. “Donnie. Whether you’re drowning in an ocean or drowning in a puddle… it’s still drowning.”

Don blinks, glancing at him. There's a moment where Leo can't quite read his eyes, but he remains quiet. Then, Don smirks, and he lets out a weak chuckle.

“I guess you’d know about that better than anyone,” he says, “considering you’re the one who dove in after me when my toy car almost got me waxed.”

“It’d be a pretty embarrassing way to go out," Leo says. "Especially for a turtle.”

“You’d also know a thing or two about that, wouldn’t you? Embarrassing ways to go out.” Don’s eyes glint, and his smirk sharpens. “Big Foot?”

Leo lets out a laugh, ducking and shaking his head in attempt to mask any show of sheepishness. “—Jeez! A guy steps on a landmine one time.”

“It wasn’t just a landmine. It was a landmine in clear water.”

“Please don’t remind me.”

Don laughs. There’s a small pause as his smile softens, and his shoulders sink into a more relaxed position. “...it’s good to have you back, Leo.”

“Hey.” Leo shifts his weight enough to gently jab his elbow into Don’s upper arm. “Right back at you, bro.”

“Alright, sickos.” Raph rounds the couch, his arms held out flat on either side of him. Two large plates balance on either inner-elbow, and in each hand he has a second plate and bowl of steaming soup. Its warm, soothing smell somehow seeps through all the congestion in Leo's nose and throat, and he sighs, letting it fill his ribs. He sits forward and extends his hands, offering to take one of the sets from Raph's person. Raph shoots him a knowing smirk, and he leans just enough to let Leo lift a plate from his arm. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup: comin’ in hot.”

“Oh, sweet,” Don says.

“Think you mean savory, dude!” Mikey chirps as he vaults the couch (and their heads). Leo passes Don the first bowl and plate, and he looks Mikey’s way as his brother drops to his knees to slide the remaining distance to the television set. He spots a DVD case in one of Mikey’s hands and realizes he recognizes it.

“—wait,” he starts, sitting up, “is that what I think it is?”

Mikey turns, flashing him a toothy grin. “Iiiiiiif you mean Kiki’s Delivery Service?”

“Where’d you get that?!” Leo asks, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

“April,” Raph answers. He chuckles and hands Leo the other plate and bowl, “figured it was time t’start usin’ her access to things to our advantage.”

Don arches a brow. “Like we weren’t doing that already?”

“I mean, sure,” Raph says, “but Kiki’s a classic! Gotta look a bit harder t’get your hands on one’a those; ‘specially a copy that ain’t totally trashed.”

“And because she’s totally awesome, she SPLURGED!!” Mikey says, jamming a finger against the DVD player's eject button. “This one’s got behind the scenes—interviews--storyboards even!!!”

“He’s real excited about the storyboards,” Raph mutters, though he fails to mask the fondness coloring his tone. He ambles back toward the kitchen, likely to retrieve food for himself and Mikey.

Leo settles the plate and bowl into the blankets on his lap. Klunk rises from where he'd curled between Don and Leo, and he pads onto one of Leo's knees in attempt to sniff the tomato soup. Leo gently nudges him away. “No, Klunk.”

“Let’s put you on the ground until food’s eaten, little guy,” Don says. He scoops a hand under Klunk’s stomach and lifts him off the couch. Klunk protests with a soft, but long, meow. He allows himself to be placed on the floor, but the look he sends Don—paired with a flick of his tail—is more than enough warning that he’ll be back before food’s finished.

Raph returns with a second round of plates and bowls, and Mikey finishes setting up the DVD. He sprints to the light switch as Raph eases their meals onto the coffee table. The lights shut off, and they’re left in the cool wash of the screen’s glow.

What comes next is a feeling Leo can’t quite put into words. Mikey slides into the open seat on his right, and Raph settles into the nook at Don’s left. The room fills with a familiar score—A Town with an Ocean View, if he remembers the track name correctly--and Don thanks Raph for dinner as the two pass down napkins. Mikey shifts his weight, taking care to move and tuck the blanket so it's evenly distributed between himself and Leo. Then, he curls up, bowl in lap, and lets himself lean into Leo's side. He takes a napkin when Leo offers it to him, and Don and Raph begin banter over who gets the remote for the movie's run time.

Leo has trouble putting a name to this feeling... and even more trouble recalling the last time it fell over him, warm and soft, like an old blanket fresh from the drier.

A sense of peace. Familiarity. Safety and home. He wants to wrap himself in it and stay. Let everything else sink away.

"Remember the first time we watched this?" Don asks. He fixes the plate on his lap and settles a napkin over one of the grilled cheese pieces.

"Feels like years ago," Mikey says.

Raph lets out a soft snort. "'Cause it was years ago."

"Think we were eight," Leo mutters. "It was the first and only time Mikey ever wanted to be near a broom."

"You're just mad 'cuz I won the race," Mikey sniggers. He wiggles enough to poke his elbow into Leo's bridge. "Totally left you and Raphie in the dust. Which you had to sweep up."

"Oh, brother," Don sighs, and Raph rolls his eyes, letting out a low growl.

"Leo? Smack him. I don't wanna spill my soup."

Leo smirks. He shifts his weight, gently jabbing one elbow into Mikey's arm. Mikey whine-groans at him, but the end of it is colored with a chuckle.

Raph (apparently having won whatever game he and Don were engaged in) lifts the remote and hits the center button. The town's melody quiets, and the room goes dark as the title menu fades to black.

[talonabraxas]

Archangel Khamael Talon Abraxas Archangel Chamuel and Charity

Archangel Chamuel, whose name means “he who seeks God,” and his divine complement, Archeia Charity, serve on the third ray of divine love. Their etheric retreat, the Temple of the Crystal-Pink Flame, is over St. Louis, Missouri. An arc of divine love forms a bridge between their retreat and that of the Elohim of the third ray, Heros and Amora, in the etheric realm near Lake Winnipeg in Manitoba, Canada.

Together with their legions of pink-flame angels, Chamuel and Charity serve to expand the flame of adoration and divine love within the hearts of men and elementals. The joy of the Christ and the proper use of the creative powers of the Godhead are the forte of their instruction. On The Legions of Angels of Divine Love “We come, then, defenders of love and leaders of the archangels and the many angelic bands serving with us in the very victorious flame of divine love. We come fully aware that the maintenance of love, day by day, involves a striving, an ultimate striving—a compelling of the soul to strive to manifest the greatest essence of the interior Light, even the nectar of the Lord Buddha. “It is the summoning of forces, cosmic forces, within and inherent in thy own being. It is the summoning of will to bring forth that skill, that perfection, that perfect enterprise that becomes not only the handiwork of God but the instrumentation of highest manifestation of God in the earth. “Let me tell you something about perfect love. It is not only selflessness but it is the assertion of the Great God Self with such an all-consuming fiery furnace of manifestation as to consume all unlike love.” Calls to Archangel Chamuel and Charity Morning Prayer to the Archangels

El Morya instructs us in The Chela and the Path: “Each day the sons and daughters of God evolving in Mater have the opportunity to receive the energies of one of the seven rays cycling from the sphere of light held in the heart of an archangel ….Receive the Lord's appointed spirits with the salutation:

‘Hail, flaming one of God! Welcome, son of the Most High! Enter, thou servant of the Lord. Come into the sanctuary of being where the kingdom of God is come into manifestation on earth as it in in heaven.'” Call to Go to Archangel Chamuel and Charity's Retreat

Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit. O my soul, let us arise from our abode. Mighty I AM Presence and Holy Christ Self, with Archangel Michael and a cordon of blue-lightening angels, transport my soul clothed in my finer bodies, fully equipped with the armor of God, to Archangel Chamuel and Charity's Temple of the Pink-Crystal Flame over St. Louis Missouri or to the designated place of my Holy Work this night. Escort me, instruct me, and guide and protect me and all co-servers, I pray Thee, now and always as we serve to cut free all life on earth.

Archangel Chamuel, To Extol The Light and Love of the Heart of Gautama Buddha, Pearls of Wisdom, vol. 24, no. 10, March 8, 1991.

[kuroshitsuji-wiki]

Season 5 news: Ending theme revealed!

Today, the ending theme for the Kuroshitsuji: Emerald Witch Arc anime was announced: It is called "WALTZ." The song was written by Avu-chan from the band Queen Bee and will be sung by no one else but...

RYUGUJO!!!

Yes, did you guess correctly? XD

Indeed, with this announcement, Season 5 has become the second Kuroshitsuji anime after Kuroshitsuji II/Season 2 (and ignoring Kuroshitsuji: Book of Murder which had no opening/ending theme whatsoever) not to have an opening or ending theme provided by SID.

While this may be disappointing to many because of SID's long and close history with Kuroshitsuji, one should not forget not to dislike/hate something prematurely and to give people a chance first. From their statement, the band members seem to be fans of the manga and anime too and did their best to provide a song that fits the series.

(Source)

RYUGUJO (龍宮城) is a Japanese alternative pop/dance music group that is made up of seven people and was formed in only 2023 through the audition program "0th Class 0 - Avu-chan's Classroom" (0年0組 -アヴちゃんの教室-), so they're a relatively new group too. The band is also produced by Avu-chan.

Last month, it was announced that the opening, "MAISIE," will be provided by Cö shu Nie feat. HYDE.

Now, we both know the opening and the ending theme titles and artists for Season 5! :) What they might sound like?

[askponyinuyasha]

I think that stallion likes you~ hehe

@drakowulf36579: I think that stallion likes you~ Heheh

Inuyasha: You think who what? Huh?

Inuyasha: Where?!

Inuyasha: Oh...

Inuyasha: Nah. You don't know what you're talking about. He doesn't even act like he likes me.

Drako: Oh? And how would that be?

Inuyasha: Well... you know...

[flashback] Jakotsu: I'll slice you up piece by little piece. Once I get going, even smart-mouths like you quickly become submissive. And in the end you'll be on your knees crying and begging me. You'll cry 'Jakotsu just hold me in your arms for a while please'. [end flashback]

Inuyasha: Sadistically murderous?

cue laugh track

(High-res transparent PNGs below the cut)

Sorry the long hiatus! I've been struggling with a bad depression flare-up and it's been a struggle to do the things I like, but I made an effort to drag myself out of the pits this weekend.

I've already got a couple PNGs of Drako floating around I keep re-using so I'm not uploading every single face variant I made for this little comic. I promise I'm not trying to play favorites with Drako, I just love drama and he's very good at stirring it up.

Regarding that drama, my boy is just a bit ignorant, seeing as how his only interactions with mlm have been Jakotsu and Suzaku, both of whom were effeminate, deranged, predatory sadists. Thanks, Rumiko. Maybe someone can open his eyes up a little? Or maybe that someone will just be offended that Inuyasha doesn't see him as sadistically murderous enough.

@askponydei is eternally cute. No notes. Love to draw him.

I also really enjoyed drawing Jakotsu. I re-watched the whole Band of Seven arc, taking notes on all the crazy stuff he said to Inuyasha to pick out just the perfect line for the flashback. Thanks episode 119. I'm also especially proud of his cutie mark. It's a snake making a heart shape because he's supposed to represent the deadly sin of lust and his name means "snake skill" and his sword is supposed to mimic the movements of a snake. I even color-picked the teal from the leaf patterns on his yukata!

I'm almost positive I've said at least one word in the text that will get this post silently erased from the tags, so shares are appreciated.

[sssapplebottomjeans]

modern varian hcs varian got pulled out of school because of being one of those troubled kids that they never could handle. also he kept giving everyone lice cuz he was one of those kids that let people borrow his goggles when they forgot/broke theirs he wears just regular farm clothes. overalls, work gloves, some banged up shoes, but he has like two emo band shirts he got from a thrift store (they were four sizes too big for him and he ended up having to patch most of the surface area but he still treasures them. in a s3 ish timeline he'd wear something more akin to dark academia. he got a scholarship at some fancy college so he barely wears his farm clothes anymore southern (maybe texan since jerjor is texan but really any state would do). gets really into studying religious texts for his church but he doesn't even believe in it, he just finds it interesting. he'd be the annoying kid in sunday school asking questions no one can answer and they kick him out to have TalksTM. he still ends up staying though cuz quirin goes, and he likes having that time with his dad

varian pretty much lives off of burger king unless quirin cooks. quirin's a pretty good cook considering. he can make cornbread and pancakes n shit (they never were quite as good as his mom's but he has to make do now) the saporian arc would just be him joining some unheard of gang or something i picture him as a 90s/2000s kid if anything. milennial varian >>> greasy hair. unwashed, smells like gasoline, dirt and half a can of axe (you'd think it'd get better once he went to college but no he's still disgusting just with a better wardrobe) (speaking of which, his room is a fucking biohazard) started a shitty band during a vague v7k era. he played electric guitar and sometimes did vocals for a punk/rock-ish vibe (maybe some bad scream vocals) (hugo did bass/whiny midwest emo vocals, yong did drums and nuru played piano (varian did too but he never was as good at it as her) and sometimes violin cuz she and varian both agreed they wanted classical elements in their music. nuru requested she try opera in one of the songs but hugo threatened to unstitch her whole closet if she did). they had seven concerts and quit cuz like four people came and two of those were raps and eugene

he also had a youtube channel that flopped just as hard. it started out with science facts filmed in 120p with audio that sounded like it was recorded with an electric fan, then random vent stuff (one of those videos blew up a fair amount and the comments showed him no mercy) and then he tried going back to science stuff for a few videos after his mandatory youtuber apology but ended up deleting the channel out of embarrassment he made some kandi back when he was around fourteen. he never got into it much but it's still there in a drawer and he breaks some out of the dust every few years he's adhd, probably autistic and is developing bpd traits like i hc him to have in canon but even in more modern times, he still never gets diagnosed with anything, he's just a problem child so he suffers through it his entire childhood until one day while he's in that gang someone offers him meth. he liked it for about two weeks but then thought "hey what if i took more this is great lol", accidentally overdosed and swore off of it for life. he still tries making homemade remedies but the only thing they ever accomplish is getting him high he had alcohol twice at a family reunion. tried buying some once he reached legal age but he had such a baby face that they all thought his ID was fake and declined him

when he was fourteen he wore a couple of his mom's old dresses a few times out of curiosity (they were too big for him but not by much) and got bullied out of them within the week at sixteen he starts wearing eyeliner idfc insomniac so he tried listening to asmr to fall asleep but he couldn't go more than thirty seconds without turning it off. sensory overload yeah but also he thought maybe he just couldn't sleep with noises on so he tried sleeping in silence and of course that didn't work. goes to bed around 5 am, wakes up at noon groggy and downing six cups of coffee to try and feel alive big fan of the lego movie and sonic. also spiderman but not as much

[venear-tmblr]

…. so i’ve had an idea

C!Ven FableSMP In-Character Smash or Pass

Today we reject canon and embrace non-canom ships like it’s the 2000’s-10’s again. Let us begin heheheh (also im sticking to masc leaning characters because c!Ven likes 🅱️oys.)

Aax

5/10: Pass

I don’t think they’d be bad for each other, I just think Ven would feel out of his depth yk? Their communication type wouldn’t clash badly, they’d both be able to argue without killing one another, but they just dont click?

I just think Ven would be intimidated? and that should be a dealbreaker in any relationship.

Caspian

6/10: Smash

Caspian would be the cool ex that you still see sometimes in random places, and you stop for 10-15 min to see how he’s doing, before you both leave and forget about each other again.

Cas would keep Ven’s bossy streak in check, and they’d sort out their problems together well. They have aligning interests in knowledge and writing, and overall they’d work.

they actually seem like the kind of couple to fall out of love with each other? which is very sad to me ;-;

They’d care about each other a lot i think, in a Scott’s Street by Phoebe Bridgers kinda way

Centross

7/10: Smash

… there’s only room for one self-sacrificing idiot in this relationship.

Opposite of Rae; Centross is Ven’s type, personality-wise. Also Centross does the love-bickering thing that Ven and Feng would do. They communicate well, they’d argue healthily, over all they’d be pretty good tbh. The sleep schedule between the two of them would be bad though, Ven would forget to stop work and Centross would do the same, they’d forget to check in with each other.

Rae

3/10: Pass (edit, was 2/10 but i raised it by 1 for Zenni the beloved)

you already know what i’m gonna say about these goobers. they’re terrible for each other

the interesting thing to me; there’s only two reasons for Ven to date Rae. 1) they’re young, and social norms say you should date someone similar to you. So both Vena and Rae would go “he likes what i like” and call it a day. OR 2) Rae would be a rebound for Ven. neither of which can happen in canon. (i love the band au blorbos <3)

Seven

4/10: Pass

they wouldn’t be bad, Ven just wouldn’t know how to approach Seven? Seven has so much going in, and Ven would need to know every detail about Seven’s past in order to feel comfortable in the relationship. Seven can’t really give that, so the relationship is over before it’s begun.

Ulysses

7/10: Smash

Similar to Caspian, they’d get along, they’d be good exes. Ven would learn a lot academically from Ulysses.

bonus point because this fish sounds aussie and that is important to me ok

Will

4/10: Pass

Based on the emotional reactions seen in the spy arc of S2, I don’t think these two would get along. i actually think Ven would get on Will’s nerves in close proximity, if he were to open up and let Will in emotionally. Not that it’d be Will’s fault, they just clash. They would have common interests though, so all wouldn’t be lost.

Will would speak his mind, whilst Ven clams up and avoids conflict, but they’d get around to communicating eventually. (so they’re def not the worst pairing on this list.)

Wolf

…9/10: Smash

ok hear me out, you haven’t seen the half of it in canon yet, but these two work well. They have a lot in common (that i can’t share yet)

they argue so well, maybe even better than Feng and Ven did. Where Feng would speak up with Ven, Wolf sits and listens and waits.

Wolf is Ven’s type physically,tall with long hair and broad shoulders, and comes close to his type in personality.

nodders they should kiss

…So in conclusion; Let Ven join Wolftross, its time for Wolventross throuple takover

[jotun-philosopher]

Good Omens & Steeleye Span

Terry Pratchett was a great fan of English folk-rock group Steeleye Span (which fact is in itself cause to check their stuff out!). While it's unlikely (from what I can tell) that deliberate references made their way into either the book or the show, the fact remains that three of Pterry's particular favourite songs from the Span have some interesting thematic resonance with elements of the show, particularly what's happening with Aziraphale and his mental health *cuddles him*

Let's check 'em out, eh?

We'll start off with The Good Witch, from the Wintersmith album. The first half is a bit more applicable to Crowley, with lyrics like, "They never said why she was wicked/That was just taken on faith" (the very literal demonisation of Crowley and the other fallen angels, anyone?) and, "But a Good Witch/Really likes people/Good Witches really do care/For even, the mean stupid, hapless ones [...]" (just as Crowley and Aziraphale both care about humanity even when we're being dumbasses). The line, "It's everyday caring, loving and sharing/That's a Witch's centre and soul!" is pretty strongly applicable to the overall message of Good Omens, for all that only two or three characters technically count as literal witches -- though Aziraphale's official Heavenly job on Earth could be considered as a parallel to the role of Discworld's witches (albeit an excessively perfectionist version, with no expectation of the support network that the witches have; Granny Weatherwax would doubtless have Words To Say to the Metatron, none of them nice).

The spoken-word second half is an abridged excerpt from (I'm fairly sure, open to correction) the novel Wintersmith about the mental costs of a witch's job -- what we might call burnout and compassion fatigue -- as part of a scene demonstrating the witches' system of mutual support. With that in mind, it's very easy to see how Aziraphale's arc in S2 could be interpreted as him entering a bit of a pre-cackling phase, with good intentions going sideways rather than actual malice -- though there's obviously a huge whack of trauma in the mix for him.

Also, as a bonus -- that voice doing the spoken-word bit?

That's not someone doing an impression.

That is the actual voice of the actual Sir Terry Pratchett! :D #GNUTerryPratchett

Next up is Thomas the Rhymer, Pterry's very favourite song from the Span. It's the band's version of an old Scots ballad (Child Ballad 37) about Thomas the Rhymer, who is taken to 'Elfland' by a faerie queen and serves her for seven years, returning to the human world after that time with the gift of true and accurate prophecy and/or the inability to lie.

There're some interesting GO parallels here; the seven years' service parallels a common interpretation of The Final Fifteen, with Aziraphale being interpreted as going Up to a miserable Supreme Archangel job. I'm disinclined to agree with this interpretation, @vidavalor having been very persuasive in the matter of 'Satan, in the Bookshop, with the coffee' (that's a whole series of metas that're well worth a look!), but that interpretation of TF15 can also be seen as paralleling Thomas the Rhymer, if you see Thomas in the ballad as having been tricked, deceived or otherwise coerced by the faerie queen.

The 'true and accurate prophecy' element has an extremely obvious GO parallel (hello, Agnes Nutter!), and the inability to lie could find a finale parallel in Aziraphale, post-Fall, directly or indirectly spreading the truth about the Heaven/Hell dichotomy -- namely, that it's built on multiple falsehoods about the goodness of angels and the evilness of demons, for the sole purpose of maintaining the personal power of Satan and the Metatron -- and thus bringing down the whole rotten house of cards, as visually foreshadowed in Nazi Zombie Flesh-Eaters.

As a side note, the line 'harp and carp, come along o' me' in the chorus refers to a choice the faerie queen presents to Thomas in the original ballad, between the gifts of musical skill ('harp') and speech/prophecy ('carp'), and has some potentially interesting interactions with the Ineffable Cant chronicled by @vidavalor (this meta's a good starting point, given the use of 'carp' -- a type of fish, or a verb meaning 'to speak'/'to gripe and complain for frivolous/petty reasons').

Fun fact, the ballad is based on a real 13th-century Scots laird called Sir Thomas de Ercildoun (the town known today as 'Earlstone') or 'True Thomas', who was held in popular folklore to have the gift of prophecy and truth-telling.

Finally, we have The Making of a Man, Pterry's favourite song from the Wintersmith album. It's an adaptation of the children's song about what makes a human that's a fairly major plot point in Wintersmith. There's a lot of stuff about physical elements, but what's particularly relevant to Good Omens is the intangible stuff (the last three lines, in the book's song) -- strength enough to build a home, time enough to hold a child, love enough to break a heart. The Ineffable Husbands absolutely have all of these qualities:

Strength enough to build a home -- the Bookshop, and ultimately the South Downs Cottage

(I was having trouble finding a gif of the lizard-ised kids)

(Love this gif! They're so soft and protective and badass and gorgeous!)

Time enough to hold a child -- saving Job's kids, raising Warlock, supporting Adam when he needed it

Love enough to break a heart -- the entire dang series! (I make no apologies for my choice of gif [cackles evilly])

Regardless of immortality or other supernatural abilities, the Ineffable Husbands have all three intangible qualities, and are wonderfully, gloriously human (and we love 'em for it!).

Hope you enjoyed that! :D

[infamous-if]

There's been some discussion recently about MC that caught my attention because I agree. MC feels like a loser when you think about all of the other characters. When I play an MC who did nothing wrong to Seven it just feels like Seven is angry for no reason. Seven is allowed to act like a child while MC has to take it? Doesn't seem fair.

Everyone has something going for them and what about MC? No one likes them and everyone hates their guts. Aren't they supposed to be the main character? Why does everyone hate them? Why aren't they considered more talented? It just feels like MC is a doormat while Seven and the other ROs are these talented superstars.

I don't want this to come off any way but I feel like the story would be stronger if you made MC a bit meaner or at least made people acknowledge MC as a better singer.

I don't want to sound rude but I'm very much exhausted by this topic. I've probably explained this 5+ times but I'll try to break it down one last time just so people can understand what I'm trying to do.

First, to get it out of the way, we are only on Chapter 2. I just want to reiterate that. The story just started.

It just feels like MC is a doormat while Seven and the other ROs are these talented superstars.

Secondly, MC is a character I try to give as much customization to, both personality and appearance wise. There's a variety of ways you can approach everything, or I at least try to in a way that doesn't sacrifice what I want to write for the plot, but I think people are under the impression MC is 100% a blank slate character when it's not true.

MC is still dependent on the plot and I always strived for MC to have their own narrative arc. The same way the ROs have their own character arcs, MC will have their own, because they are a character in their own right and going through some that fundamentally changes their life. That means the MC from Chapter 1 will not be the MC at Chapter 20. They will be different. That's what a character arc is. Character development is expected. How can you expect a slew of ROs to grow and change and MC remaining stagnant? Doesn't make sense narratively and it seems unfair to MC.

The MC is not a completely blank slate, and that's where people are getting it confused. In the beginning, MC is going through such a change with BOTB, without their family, and on the heels of a band breakup that's still impacting them today. MC is a little down, maybe even depressed if that's how you read it, and they're getting pushed to be leader by their manager. They are not really okay right now. They have to be professional and put on a brave face for the sake of their band, who, if you paid attention to what Rowan said in Chapter 2, are all depending on this. This is what they worked for since high school. MC is not going to flip a damn table on Day 1 just because you want them to. MC can fight, if you choose, against UWB. That's not supposed to be a smart choice, but emotions get the best of all of us.

They are only just navigating a worldwide globally famous show with a cheating allegation hanging over their heads, and a manager who wants them to be leader when, up until now, they haven't been. They've just been friends making music and miraculously having a fanbase. Now they're really in it. They have been thrust head first into the industry in a way that is so big that MC has to go from singer playing with their friends to a leader of a band who may just become globally famous in a few months if they play their cards right.

A lot of their actions are influenced by the fact that their band almost broke up and it's a thing that hangs over their head. Their past influences them. That's...how people work.

Now, if we're at Chapter 20 and MC is still acting like a scared bunny who doesn't know what they're doing, then be my guest. Scream in my inbox, I'd understand. That would be terrible writing, but we're not. The tour just started.

I play an MC who did nothing wrong to Seven it just feels like Seven is angry for no reason. Seven is allowed to act like a child while MC has to take it? Doesn't seem fair.

MC doesn't have to take it lol. I've always given an option to be rude to Seven/try to put them in their place.

People think I favor Seven when that's not true. (Seven isn't even my favorite RO)(That title goes to August lol). Seven acts the way they act because they are not in a healthy headspace. Their actions are not meant to be understood, because they are not entirely justified. Seven has a lot of growing up to do, but I have never sat here and advertised Seven's emotions as correct. Everyone knows Seven is childish, everyone knows Seven is handling everything terribly. People in the story have mentioned it. Their abandonment issues GREATLY influence their characterization and actions. MC has abandonment issues as well, of course, but MC is not as emotionally unstable as Seven. That's canon. It is what it is. Seven has a whole subplot about it.

As do other ROs. The only difference is that they're not so open about their struggles. Seven just doesn't care. Their emotions guide them. They can't control it. That's who they are. I have also said that many times.

I don't know why you think Seven can get away with everything when 1) it's only been 2 chapters and 2) no one knows how anyone feels about Sev because it's in MC's POV. Seven goes through their own trial by fire. As every RO does......thats a narrative arc.

Seven was always going to be a plot point, whether they were an RO or not. They were always going to be MC's former best friend.

Everyone has something going for them and what about MC? No one likes them and everyone hates their guts. Aren't they supposed to be the main character? Why does everyone hate them? Why aren't they considered more talented? It just feels like MC is a doormat while Seven and the other ROs are these talented superstars.

This one bothers me the most, mostly because I don't know where this came from. "No one likes them" Jenna and The Jewels does. Slow Crawl does. Their fans do. We haven't even properly met the other bands. Of course there will be bands who don't like MC: they're competitors. They're not friends. They don't know MC, why would they be biased towards them? Because they're the main character? They don't care about that?? It's how fiction works.

Maya is following the band around because of how much she admires MC.

Orion quit his job because MC's singing inspired him that much.

G listened to MC and saw something in them. Literally calls them the 'Chosen One'

Fans of the old band preferred MC over Seven. They liked the songs where MC sang solo. MC was better for their future over Seven. Hence why it was Seven getting demoted, not MC. I've said this. It's in the story.

I don't see how being the lead singer of a band on a global show at 26 makes anyone an actual loser but I digress.

Literally in Part 2 MC is acknowledged so maybe it'd be better if we waited? Say a good few chapters...?

If you wanted a story where MC is Queen level famous right out the gate and the #1 draft pick for BOTB and has no problems and better than everyone, then I'd advise you to look elsewhere. I don't like that. I like giving MC obstacles because conflict creates story. I like MC having to fight for their spot. It's more realistic, and this has never been a story of fame. It's been a story of their journey to fame.

That's their narrative arc. They grow into it.

You are allowed to hate/dislike Seven. I encourage it. I have given MC the option to hate Seven, because I'm aware that what Seven is doing is unfair. I am not punishing you for hating Seven. And this goes for all the ROs. It does not bother me if you dislike my characters. It means I haven't made them squeaky clean and have made them realistic enough to have people both dislike and like them, much like real life. I get it.

I've always advertised Infamous as a messy, angsty and dramatic story. I've used the term 'melodrama' for it often. I've always said the ROs--especially Seven--are flawed. Some more than others. I've said, verbatim, they are not wholly good people. I don't know why people act so shocked when they act some type of way. Like...I've always stayed true to what the story is. Half the dynamics aren't healthy right now...but that's the 'growing up part' of the story we haven't even gotten to yet?

If that doesn't interest you, then that's perfectly okay! If you don't like the narrative arc I have planned for MC, that's fine too! It just becomes a bit disheartening when people ignore the narrative.

I will try harder to write in a way that specifies my intentions. I always believe that if more than a handful of readers have the same complaint, then it's on the writer to fix it.

I hope my tone didn't come off rude, I'm just really really tired of this. I've had to deal with this since even before the demo dropped :) but your critiques are valid and everyone is always free to express themselves however they want. <3

[ofallthingsnasty]

tags: noncon spanking, power imbalance (boss/employee), exhibitionism, f!reader, reader wears a skirt + is implied to be chubby, this is just about being disciplined by sir crocodile pffft sorry idk what got into me with this one mini disclaimer: I haven’t been up to date with one piece since 2015 + I just finished the alabasta arc during my current re-read. this is pre-canon but please forgive me if I’ve missed anything. pairing: sir crocodile/f!reader word count: 1.4k

“Are you stupid?”

The clipboard in your hand shakes at the harsh words. You owlishly blink at the source of them - your boss, whose upturned eyebrows tell you just how  annoyed he is. Crocodile isn’t someone who you should try to talk back to, especially you - too soft compared to him and still fairly new to this job-

Yet you can’t help but bristle at his tone.

 “Excuse me, Sir?”

“I've excused you quite enough, haven't I?”

He clicks his tongue and his cigar dips with it, ignoring your indignant face.

“You don't listen, woman. I let it go yesterday but here you go again, staring off into space.”

Oh. So he noticed. 

It pains you to admit but you’re still starstruck over working for Sir Crocodile, one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea - and somewhat of a hero to your people. Helping him operate Rain Dinners might be weirdly mundane but being close to the man who has saved the people of Alabasta countless times is something you’re still not quite over. You know you’re too old to be that naive, that blue-eyed - but who can fault for wondering where he got that scar in his face from, or how he lost his hand? Working for someone like him would spice up anyone’s life in Rainbase. 

“Ah”, he sighs - heavy and exhausted as though you’re some kind of mutt, refusing to be properly trained -  and puts out his cigar. “It's no use.”

Okay, now you’re starting to sweat. Your eyes rush to the manager - who just blinks back at you, a cryptic expression on her stony face. 

“Over my knee.”

“Sir-”, you stammer out, glad that the words are even coming out despite the cold shower that is running down your spine. “This is entirely inappropriate- In front of other employees, no less-”

A wave of his hook interrupts you.

“A learning opportunity, then.”

This has to be some sort of nightmare - if it weren’t for the curious little head tilt of the other woman in the room, you’d try to pinch yourself awake. Your mouth opens and closes while you try to process this situation, try to make sense of it. You should leave, quit on the spot, tell him to fuck off-

You surprise yourself when you set down the clipboard with shaky hands. 

Maybe it’s because deep down, you don’t want to lose this job or because of the way his voice leaves no more room for discussion - but you lower yourself over his legs, feeling very much like a rotten child and not a fully grown woman. They dig into the fat of your stomach and press the waistband of your skirt uncomfortably against it but you don’t even dare to adjust yourself, you just grip the edge of the chair weakly and try to soothe the sting of humiliation by scrutinizing the texture of the floor beneath you.

You know what comes next - still you startle as your skirt is hiked up by his rough hand. He lifts up your midriff ever so slightly while he pulls the piece of clothing over your ass, the sturdy fabric holding almost all of your weight for a short second. Luckily, it stays intact - contrary to your tights. Thick fingers hook themselves underneath the band that helps them stay in place and you can only let out an indignant squeak as he digs into the thin fabric like it’s butter, ripping large holes into it. At least he leaves your panties where they belong.

“You’re going to count for me”, he says from somewhere above as though he’s telling you how he likes to take his whiskey and not about to spank his employee for a minor transgression.

You just nod with too much enthusiasm and a burning hot face.

You’re stock-still and tense over his knee - so acutely aware of the impending doom. He’s not going to be gentle with you, you have no pretense about that, you know that he’s going to make you feel his frustration, every bit of it.

He lifts his hand from your ass - you hear the fabric of his clothes shuffle, strain - and brace yourself.

It doesn’t hurt at first. You only register the smack of his palm meeting your flesh and feel the force that is behind it, that pushes you forward and shifts the content of your stomach uncomfortably over the bone of his thigh. A split second passes and then- it burns. 

You can’t suppress the shocked whimper that leaves you as you press out the count. “One.”

“One, what?”

You grit your teeth in utter shame but promptly rectify your mistake. 

"One, Sir. And thank you- Sir"

Your words are rewarded with his hand rubbing the skin beneath it - maybe it’s to alleviate the pain, maybe it’s to cop a feel - you cannot tell.

The next four hits come rather quickly. Your head is thrown down with each one and you can feel the snot building up in your nose, blood accumulating where branches of both the external and internal carotids meet, the skin hot and sticky. Still, you count each and every one of them, your voice getting wispier and wispier from the pain.

“Having trouble holding that thick head of yours up?”, he asks after the fifth one, thumb digging into now tender flesh. It’s an entirely rhetorical question.

“Let me help you. Don’t move.”

Not moving turns out to be rather difficult when his hook moves to your neck, that sharp, glinting tip too close to the soft organs of your throat. The cold metal settles right where your suprahyoid muscles connect to the bone, just above your larynx. 

It’s not enough to choke you - but the discomfort keeps your neck straining, instinctively trying to shield that small brace of bone that forms the hyoid.

Your eyes meet blue ones, just above the edge of Crocodile’s desk. You must look absolutely pathetic to her, you’re sure - but there is no judgment in her face, just a slender knuckle under her chin as her full attention is on you. Every further thought is swept away by another hit to your rear. It jerks you into his hook, crushing the fine cartilage of your voice box, forcing mucus into your mouth. Something pops among the muscles, like the jump of a tendon over bone and you balk at the noise, sure that he’ll break you before he even gets to the end of this.

 Yet you sputter out the number six, voice throaty with strain.

Seven, eight, nine and ten follow quickly - and aren’t less harsh. Every single cell of your body is focused on getting from one moment to the next, of just getting through this.

Whatever it is you do, it’s deemed to be adequate - eleven and twelve come and go - slower, but heavier - and he finally rests his hand on your prickling skin after you croak out fifteen, Sir, your throat tender and ass bruised so deeply that your left leg shakes with it. A few tense seconds pass - during which you’re not sure if he’s actually done or not, but a soft sigh confirms it. 

“Up with you.”

You’ve never moved faster in your life, beaten ass be damned. Trying to preserve the last shreds of your dignity, you tuck down your rumpled skirt with shaky fingers, fighting the urge to rub your sore neck. You can barely look at him, too scared you might find nothing but disdain in his eyes.

“Look at you now. What a nuisance.” He doesn’t sound disappointed - just tired. Like you’re a mess that needs to be cleaned up and he just came home from a long day at work. You shrink into yourself at his tone, relieved that it’s over but still tense, still afraid that there will be other consequences. “Go on. Get yourself fixed.”

You’re dismissed with a simple wave of the very hand you can still feel on your skin - that will make it hard for you to sit in the next few days. 

Robin's eyes follow you as you hurry out of the door, pantyhose ripping even further because you try to clumsily adjust it while walking, your face betraying every single emotion you feel. Hurt, humiliation, even genuine anguish - but you’re still in one piece, even if your ego (and ass) are a little beat up. She tilts her head as she watches the very last traces of you disappear.

“Hm. You've gotten soft.”

He huffs in annoyance and reaches for the untouched newspaper in front of him, not even bothering to light a new cigar. She eyes Crocodile for a second as he pulls the pages taut. Something clicks.

"You like her", she says, thoroughly amused now.

The only answer she gets is a sharp tug at the newspaper.

A/N: It's hard to decipher what non-Baroque Works employees of Rain Dinners call Robin -- but she is addressed as manager, so I stuck with that. I hope it didn't confuse you.