#been doing a lot of full white eyes even though its not canon for him

[sacrosanction]

— two things ive never drawn in one, this head angle and him smiling (or grinning here)

[angel-eyes05]

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known (part 3)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

pairing: spider-woman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: a fight you've been waiting for arises in front of you, but can you keep your guard up long enough to reunite with your teammates again?

warnings: ANGSTY (the next chapter is smut i promise), HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, mentions and descriptions of blood and injuries, this is so against canon its insane

word count: 1.8k

notes: ok ok i promise that the next chapter will have smut in it, i just wanted to do some enemies to lovers before we got to that point so thanks for sticking around during the past two chapters i know its not easy lmao. you guys will be rewarded well though, trust trust😌 😌 😌 

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Bright ruby liquid dripped from your tricep as Miguel’s claws ripped through the fibers of your suit, slamming you into the cement floor. Any false confidence you went into this battle with quickly disappeared when each futile attempt to get Miguel off his feet failed. You’re not sure how long you’ve been stalling him, but it felt like hours. You were still putting up a fight though, managing to bruise one of his cheekbones that you used to love so much. But compared to the state you were currently in, it didn’t exactly mean much. You were bleeding from all sorts of places. The most noticeable places were where his claws has dug into you, first your thigh, now your tricep. At this point in the fight, you were just focused on defending yourself.

Images of your favorite moments with him flashed inside your eyes in between his strikes at your face. How gently he would hold you, the way he would whisper your name sometimes and moan it others. How nervous he would get if you took longer than usual to come back from a mission. But even with his mask on, you could see it in his face that that was all gone now. Any ounce of love he had for you was whisked away with you when you walked into that elevator away from him. Just like you, feelings of betrayment flooded his brain, making him lose all sense judgment as he sliced his claws across your stomach. He didn’t feel anything for you anymore. Which only made it easier for you to harm him.

He had you pinned to the floor below him, no escape in sight other than you to physically push him off of you, which didn’t seem like very much of an option considering his size and weight. Plus, he had your hand pinned down with his knees. He had taken a break from punching you to catch his breath, heaving hot pants into your face below him. His mask faded off in order to let him breathe better. 

Your struggle out had suddenly paused.

Then you saw it. His mask had been hiding it from you before.

His eyes were red. And not his iris’ natural crimson glow. The pure white sclera of his eye had been stained with red. Had he been…crying? You felt your heart drop into your stomach. He had. A lot. You felt so guilty, knowing it was most likely you who caused this. You managed to slip your arm out from under his knee, but instead of using it to pushed him off, you placed it gently on the side of his cheek, brushing your finger over the horrible bruise you put there, blemishing his perfect skin.

His only movements from then on out were slight flinches from when your thumb would press too hard on the bruise. You wanted to badly to leave this all behind. To just go back home with him. To crawl into bed with him and pretend none of this ever happened. You wanted to embrace him again after all this time, you wanted to place your lips onto his again and remind him of your love. Both of you had been so full of hate the past few months. You needed to love again. You wanted to love again.

But you couldn’t. Not right now. And not in good conscious. To let go of this now would be to let go of everything you stood for. You couldn’t go back with him. Not like this. So while it was your heart that screamed out for him, it was your head that acted next as you grabbed his arm with your free hand and ripped his claws through his stomach. As he growled out in pain, he leaned over to his left side more, giving you your way out. You jumped to your feet and raced for the whole in the wall. You made it out, but not before Miguel made his final attempt to grab you.

He fell down in pain before you were in his clutch, but his reach out for you caused four large gashes to form into your back. You yelped out in agony as you felt his claws ripped through the fabrics of your skin. You kept running though, refusing to look back to see if he was following you. You prepped up the portal on your watch, sending out the Earth you were jumping to to the rest of your teammates. You had zero idea where they were or if they were okay, but your one concern right now was getting away from Miguel. Your back shot pain through your entire body with every step you took, but you had to ignore that right now. You had bigger matters at hand. For example, the growing sound of footsteps behind you.

Fuck, he was up again already? This was bad. Your allies were all missing, the portal wasn’t ready yet, and you could feel your consciousness leaving your body as pain overtook your mind. You had to keep running, but each step was sloppier than the last. God fuck, you couldn’t get caught now. He was close you could feel it. You looked at your watch with fuzzy vision, basically praying for it to work at this point. You tried to run faster, but that proved to be a fatal mistake. Panic zoomed through your body as you felt yourself trip over your own feet.

You looked behind your back mid fall to find a demonic sight, Miguel bounding towards you on all fours at full speed, a trail of blood leaking behind him. Just as you thought it was over for you, your savior appeared. A bright neon orange portal. You attempted to get back onto your feet to make it through, nearly scrambling, but it was no use. Every movement was more painful than the last, the lacerations on your back reminding your body of all your other injuries, all of them coming to life suddenly at once. This was it. You lost. Sorry Miles, you thought to yourself, I really did try. But you’re going to have to fight this battle without me. 

You weren’t sure if the pain was making you hallucinate, but you could’ve sworn that you saw Hobie jumping into the air behind Miguel, and slamming his guitar into his face. Miguel was knocked off of his fours and onto his back, tumbling away into a building to your right. Your vision was confirmed when you felt Pavitr’s and Gwen’s hands latch onto your arms and drag you into the portal, Peter B. and the rest of the team behind them. The last thing you saw before fully passing out was Miguel’s limp body laying against the brick wall as you floated through the portal into whatever Earth you would crash into next.

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The sky grew a dark gray as your team gathered in a dark alley in whatever Earth you landed in this time. Peter B. had you in his own separate corner, Gwen taking care of Mayday as he stitched up your gashes with some spare thread Margo bought at the drugstore. Your tricep and and thigh were painful, but over faster than expected. Now he was on to your back. And fuck did it suck. Being the deepest of all three attacks, it was still bleeding while Peter was stitching it up, causing the thread to get stuck to your skin at some parts. You bit at your tongue through the pain, while Pavitr asked and answered questions to keep you distracted. “What happened?” he asked first. “Got..ambushed. Fought Miggy- Miguel I mean. Managed to hit him….before he tore my back..o-open. Yo-u guys s-saved me. Now w-we’re…where are we?” you said, gritting through your teeth. “Earth-42,” Margo stated, looking at the slightly orange glow on her wrist. You nodded slightly, but winced once Peter accidentally got the thread stuck on dried blood, and started yanking at it. 

“Jesus Peter, have you never done this before?! Mayday could do a better job than this!” you yelled at him. You got a slight giggle out of the baby, as Gwen placed her in your lap to distract you. 

“Who are you with right now?” Pavitr asked, pulling your attention away from your wounds again. “Uhh, Pavitr, Mayday, Peter B., Gwen, Hobie, Ham, Noir, Margo, and Peni,” you answered, playing with Mayday’s hands. “How are you feeling?” he asked next. “Other than the growing urge to punch Peter B. in the face-” “I’m doing my best here!” he shouted from behind you, getting a chuckle out of you. “I feel fine.” 

You felt everyone’s eyes glue onto you. You stared back confused for a second. “....What, I do.” You were the only one severely injured out of the whole group, the rest of them making it out with scratches at the worst. Meanwhile you were sitting there, blood leaking out of nearly every crevice of your body and bruises quickly forming around your face. They had a right to not believe you. Because they were right. You weren’t okay. You felt a new emotion towards Miguel that you hadn’t felt towards him before. You were terrified of him. Watching him pounce towards you like a coyote hunting its prey. You now understood how all of his enemies felt towards him. Because you were one of them now.

You felt stupid for thinking you could beat him, much more kill him. Stupid for thinking for some reason he would go easy on you. You saw how he acted towards you. He pounded his fists into your body as if you single handedly killed his whole family. He didn’t care for you anymore. But then you remembered. How his eyes were for that split second you saw them. Why was he crying? Was it stress? Was it joy that he was about to finish his mission? Or…was it you? It felt self centered to think that was the reason. That he had been crying over the fact he lost you. You could imagine it now. Miguel sitting lonelily in front of all his monitors and scanners looking for you, ashamed in himself for letting you go as easily as he did. You dragged yourself out of that thought fast, convincing yourself that thats not what you were to him. You were just a pawn in his game. And you were done playing.

Pavitr decided to not push the question anymore and began to talk to you about other stuff until Peter finished up with your back. You stood up, ignoring the ache in your back, to peek out of the alley and into the city. Everyone’s attention turned to Margo’s wrist as it blinked a light orange. When her eyes lit up, you knew it had to be good news. 

“Miles.” she said. “He’s here.”

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NEXT CHAPTER

a/n: OK OK NEXT CHAPTER IS THE LAST ONE AND EVERYTHING WILL BE WRAPPING UP THERE I PROMISE (there'll be smut too dw dw🤭🤭🤭). i also have a new idea for a miguel fic so ill be getting started on that after i finish with chapter 4 (it'll be oc x miguel cause i wanna get my character writing out there, but dw you can imagine youre her lmao). so be on the lookout for that whenever it drops, id appreciate the continued support!!!!

taglist: @sunfairyy @ladespedidas @jenniferdixon05207 @chalametet @khaleesihavilliard @sparklyphantom @sweetanimebakery @azxulaa @daimiyu @vinkar345 @pinkninja200 @luvstich @rin-matsuoka345-blog @lillunna @trying-2bcool @deputy-videogamer @chatoicboy @cookielovesbook-akie @impettywhenyouare @unnamedgayperson @sin4tra @twentysomethingwereyote @cherrymanhuas @sagejin @isaidoop @hysteriaabsd @autismsupermusicalassassin @persimmoned-fig @dcsuperheros @amodernarrietty @konniebon @barbi-e7 @venus1224idkpleaze @almondlocust @babybella777 @urmomcomsiimiamour @96jnie @cryptidwlw69 @mirrorball-6 @whosace16 @wolfiepirate @gobblegluckgluckgod @keenzinemugstudent @bitchotine @leopandabearsblog @blumin8 @malynn @mearss @yu-rylee @myhomethesea @ashjbu @skcj24 @joanne-uwu @y2ksitgirl @inosukesweirdwife @a-simp-20 @shibble @euphoricfics @hwanunjin @simp-nerd-16 @chucklefuvk @elwyn7 @thegroupsdeaddog @haileybxxr @ilovemymomscooking @lansy-4 @maxi-ride @d4rno @callsign-blue @obamnas-soda @sophipet @xiangping-28 @steveoscousin @violentlyneon @d1lf-loverrr @shylonelyleaf @babyspice6 @afro-hispwriter @kirke-is-my-name @ilovemiguelohara @lavnderluv @konniebon @msecho19 @kiamewrites

[tossawary]

Ended up thinking about "Dragon Age" again, specifically mostly DA2 and time travel fics. I think Hawke is the second-easiest DA protagonist for an author to throw backwards in time or into another dimension (the first is the Inquisitor, whose game has canonical time travel), because Hawke potentially getting abandoned in the Fade in DAI is an excuse for anything to happen.

More importantly, I think Hawke is the FUNNIEST protagonist to throw back in time for a redo, because they're not put in charge of Solving The Apocalypse for the majority of their game. The Warden and the Inquisitor are dealing with kingdoms, with the Blight and the Breach, whereas Hawke is "just" dealing with a city state and spends most of their initial time there fucking around trying to support their family. But WHAT a city. Hawke would have to go back and deal with fucking Kirkwall again in all its early, awful glory, a real powder keg waiting to blow.

The amount of time spent in Kirkwall and its incredibly violent game missions isolated to this one location across nearly a decade gives it so much character that, to me, it's perhaps the most entertaining DA location to explore as a place where ordinary people actually live (though, admittedly, many places in Thedas are fucking terrible), and Hawke's tragic relationship with that place as its hero is fascinating to think about. Hawke would have a lot to feel sad about, coming back to this strange place, with both good things and bad things undone, but I find it amusing to imagine that Hawke also actually missed this terrible place and its peculiar version of normal.

Here's a 400 word ficlet of how I imagine Hawke's reunion with Kirkwall going. I don't intend to write a full fic, it's just a scene that came to me with surprising clarity while out on a walk, despite how long it's been since I played a DA game.

KIRKWALL (AGAIN)

Garrett looked over the dark streets of Kirkwall and had to wipe a tear away from his eye. "This place is a shit hole," he said, in the same tone of awe others used for incomparable beauty. 

In front of them, a drunken sailor holding a bottle of whiskey and singing a terrible rendition of the already terrible song "What Do You Do With A Tranquil Blood Mage?" wobbled into a vegetable cart. This caused several turnips to bounce across the cobblestones. The cursing grocer picked one of them up, yelled, "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE WALKING, YOU DOG-FUCKING BLIGHTER," and threw it at the drunken sailor, whose head was saved by the fact that he lurched over to throw up in an alleyway, and the vegetable smashed into the side of a house instead. 

Inside the house, there was a crash, and then the shutters of an upper window flew open, revealing a naked man holding a crossbow. He yelled, "I'LL HAVE YOUR BALLS FOR A NECKLACE, YOU POINTY-EARED COCKSUCKERS," despite the fact that no one nearby was an elf, and then fired at the street below him. His crossbow bolt lodged into a wooden message board, which was mostly covered in old, vandalized paper posters for the Blooming Rose and other like-minded establishments, and the quivering "crossbow bolt" was revealed to be a rusty fork tied to a butter knife with string, covered in sparkly white and blue powder that glowed slightly. It matched the other mismatched cutlery already embedded in the wood there. 

The naked man with the crossbow slammed his shutters closed again. The people on the streets had ducked or raised a shield, but now easily went back to their business, apparently unsurprised and unworried. An old woman crouched down to the ground and stuffed the thrown turnip into the basket over her arm, then hastily walked away with her free loot. 

"I missed this city so much," Garrett said, and even he was a little horrified that he meant it so sincerely. There was no need for Carver to look at him like that. 

[quitealotofsodapop]

Now a Part Two of more info on "The Monkey King and the Infant" au:

link to part one

There's A LOT of crying and emotions between characters in this fic. Like full on "imma destroy this wall real quick" tantrums from Sun Wukong *and* Macaque. They're both deeply hurt and very bad at communicating.

Macaque's death in JTTW is canon. He had not set upon Tripitaka on his own accord - he had been ordered. He doesnt remember who gave the order though - must have drank some soup in Diyu.

Macaque believes that Lady Bone Demon only resurrected him to let her out. But she also secretly needs MK for something. Macaque prays that they never cross paths. Spoilers: they do.

Before Tang and Pigsy realised who the two monkeys actually were; they managed to get them jobs in their own workplaces. Macaque assists Tang at the University library where he works as an archivist. Sun Wukong on the other hand is the pretty host/delivery boy that charms tips out of all of Pigsy's customers. Even after the reveal, the two monkeys enjoy their day jobs.

Pigsy doesnt trust Sun Wukong to run the kitchen on his own. He does trust Macaque though, which makes Sun Wukong furious.

The co-parents learned that MK has built-in Gold Vision cus he has no filter;

MK (age 4): "What happened to your eye?" Macaque: *checks if his glamour is on* Tang: "Huh? What about his eyes? They look normal to me... oh he probably just means that little scar you have." Macaque, relieved: "Oh... this. I got in my last battle." MK: "No no! I mean your WHITE eye. The one you don't squint out of. Same side as the white streak in your hair." Macaque: "...what?" Tang, slowly realising whats going on and trying to hold back a lore infodump: "Ah! :D"

Sun Wukong will start sobbing at the drop of a hat if asked how his and Macaque's last fight went. MK learned that the hard way and it caused a crying chain reaction.

It takes Shadowpeach literal years of living and raising a child together before they realise that they've fallen back in love. Meanwhile Freenoodles got express delivery within weeks of MK being in their lives.

One of the first shapeshifting forms MK was able to take on is a brown piglet. Yes, Pigsy cried the first couple of times it happened.

Sun Wukong and Macaque shared the restaurant apartment for most of MK's childhood. Pigsy used to live there too, but moved in with Tang nearby after he took in the the soon-to-be monkey parents. He claims it was to "save up on space", but it quickly turned into something else along with his relationship to Tang. In the modern day, MK still lives in the apartment above the restaurant like in canon. Sun Wukong mostly lives at Flower Fruit Mountain when he's not staying in the city - otherwise he forcibly crashes at Macaque's loft in the University district.

MK is trans masc (he/they) in this au, as is Macaque and maybe Tang. Self projection ahoy.

Demon attacks and Human threats have followed the family throughout MK's childhood, but its nothing a superpowered team of dads cant handle. Except the first time MK scraped his knee at kindergarden and Sun Wukong was convinced that he was gonna bleed out. Or when MK got his first bad cold and Macaque ruined the kitchen trying to alchemise a cure. Or MK's first run in with a bully that made Pigsy so mad that he reconnected with Sandy to pull a "scary bodyguard" act on the bully. Or MK's first school play where he played the role as a cloud, and Tang clapped a little too loudly. Or his first- (the list goes on. these dorks are so proud of their little stone egg baby).

Please add your thoughts in the tags or send asks cus my butt's gonna write a fic soon

[anxiescape]

Hello! Hope you are having a good day!

I'd like to ask how you came up with Space Macaque in your Stargaze fic?

I am having a good day, thank you! 😊

As for how I came up with Space Macaque... I have been waiting for someone to ask this question. 😈 (this is a long explanation, so buckle in.)

There are two main reasons that I came up with the idea.

1: The Shadowplay episode (obviously). He refers to himself as the moon, and I was like "OwO? I can work with this :3"

2: Specifically, this scene from the first Macaque episode.

I noticed how the little bits of debris were floating around him (even after the initial explosion he caused), and I was like, "huh, kinda like asteroids and moons around a planet, due to the planet's gravitational pull. Interesting." And then I noticed that he's just, like, really at ease and in his element just floating in the air while he mocks MK, all the while blatantly ignoring the laws of gravity.

I wondered if floating was one of his powers (since it doesn't really show up again in the show), and then I was like, "what if it is one of his powers?"

Being the big space nerd that I am (I actually have quite a few space-themed OCs), I set to work designing Moon!Macaque. I actually incorporated a lot of his canonical design into his powers and found ways to tie them into space-related things. I also gave him some extra little powers, such as the random fact that he always knows what phase the moon is in, regardless of the fact it's daytime or cloudy, and he can "see" anything that is within the moon's light (that's a hard one to explain, but if you're confused lemme know and I'll try to). Another random tidbit about him is he is stronger at night, and especially during a full moon.

His umbrakinesis (shadow manipulation) comes from the the fact that the moon is covered in shadows (y'know, the dark side of the moon). Since he hatched from a meteorite that originated on the moon (I decided since Wukong hatched from a rock, it would be neat for them to be born in similar ways—who knows how celestial monkeys are created?), it makes sense he'd have some sort of control over things pertaining to said moon. That's also why he can float, like one can on the moon due to its low gravity. He can also make small objects around him float if he focuses.

As for his super hearing, I dunno. I just think it's kind of funny that a creature from space, where there is no sound (okay there's technically sound in space but uggh that's a long explanation), has such sensitive hearing.

And then there's the physical aspects of his design. Black fur = the night sky. So I added stars to his fur because I could and they're cute. :3 His red mask is tied to the blood moon, which is when the moon falls within the darkest part of the Earth's shadow during a lunar eclipse, thus causing it to appear with a red tint. Gold eyes = stars. They glow in the dark as well, like stars do. His ears glow white like the moon (though I do like the idea of him having multi-colored ears).

Another random fact about him is that he smells like raspberries, due to the presence of ethyl formate in deep space. Ethyl formate gives raspberries their flavor, thus making him smell like raspberries.

(Also, his blood tastes like raspberries, and has some very interesting attributes, but that will be brought up later in Stargaze. It causes... issues, to say the least. 😬)

And, last but not least... I wanted to interpret the term "celestial monkey" a little more literally. Instead of celestial as in "relating or belonging to Heaven", I chose the definition of celestial as in "positioned in or relating to the sky, or outer space as observed in astronomy." And so, Moon!Macaque was born. :)

Aaannd I hope I covered everything (that I can share at this point in time, anyway). I have been working on a character reference sheet for Moon!Macaque, but it won't be coming out for a bit because my computer keeps trying to overheat and I can only work on digital art a little bit at a time. 😩

In the meantime (and if you made it this far), enjoy this cute little sneak peek of Liu'er in his moon-themed hanfu that Wukong had specially made for him (and Ma, in her adorable pink hanfu—you get a cookie if you recognize it 🙃 (hint: it's in one of my other Stargaze-related drawings on my page)).

[industria-adastra]

[Vampire Knight] - The only one who could love you as you are

Angstober: Day 10 - Can't go home (ao3 link)

Warning: this is a fic about a (mostly implied) messed-up family relationship between a father (uncle) and his daughter (niece). Please note the tags and proceed at your own discretion, even if a lot of the messed up things are implied here.

-

Summary: Sometimes, Yuuki isn’t even sure who revolves around whom—the two of them, like binary stars, encircling each other, consuming each other, unable to live without each other. But that’s alright, isn’t it?

After all, they were family.

(After all, he was the only one in the world who could love someone like her)

Note: I feel like this AU could be a whole-ass psychological horror multi-chap on its own. If Rido did do this in canon… It feels like he’d be extra dead if Kaname got his hands on him. I guess the good news here in this AU is that Juuri and Haruka aren't dead...? And I guess Zero's parents too maybe idk depends on how nice I feel.

--------

A sharp pain in her neck awoke her from slumber. But the doll-like girl didn’t even flinch, only calmly placing a hand on long, wild curls of mahogany hair—carding her fingers through it gently. She pressed the man’s head closer to her. 

Though gentle as she was, the girl had nought a single expression on her porcelain features.

“Welcome home, Father.”

Blood trickled down her neck, staining her white nightdress. Nails dug into her skin, a heavy weight pressed down like iron blocks atop her. Her father gripped her tightly, with the desperation and ferocity of a parched man, unwilling to allow her to move. The familiar tightness in her chest was back, and ice travelled through her spine. 

Like always, Yuuki simply ignored it, choosing to move her arms to cradle her father’s beautiful face, staring up at mismatched red and blue eyes. Red, like the blood that had left her, leaving her weightless and woozy.

“I’m back, Yuuki.”

-

These four walls never felt like home. At least, not in the way it seemed to be for the majority.

“Home”

A place in which Yuuki only ever read about in books, carefully picked or carelessly left around by her father. They were all papery facsimiles of the outside world, but for someone like her, who only knew dulled tones and dark walls—they were cherished, lovingly, and caringly kept. Anything her father gave her would be loved like so, because it was from her father.

(Because what if she did not and he left? What if he left her, all alone with only four walls and empty spaces to keep her company? He, her father. He, her world. He, the only person she had.

He had told her so, brushing her hair—”How dull it is, straight and flat like this.” His hand had ghosted near her collarbone, fingers just about to skim her chest. “But perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised…”

She had dared not speak, dared not move a muscle.

“It’s perfect for someone like you.”)

-

She tried to curl it, once, leaving her hair in thick braids during slumber; unravelling them to see waves completely unlike her father’s naturally wild ones. There wasn’t much to do within the fortress of their home, so Yuuki often had to make do with some improvisation. But she’d been so, so excited at the sight of even a hint of curl, hoping it’d elicit a compliment or even a gentle touch or two.

He’d taken one look at it and unceremoniously dunked her in a full bathtub.

“Didn’t you hear me properly? Or is it a case of your memory now, Dear? It’s perfect the way it is, for a child like you.” His tone had been scolding, annoyed. The memory of those words and the way his too-warm body hovered over her—-nearly skin-to-skin—-stuck to her brain like a parasite. Yuuki remembered the way his fingers moved between wet locks, the faint feeling of his nails ever so lightly scraping over her skin; how the water was ice cold, and the way her nightgown stuck to her, waterlogged and heavy, keeping her down like a ball and chain. The water was too cold, her body too warm, and everything had all felt like it was on the edge of a precipice—about to fall into an abyss.

Yuuki should’ve been only happy with those words. After all, was it not what everyone called “unconditional love”?

-

Yuuki wasn’t capable of much. This, she’d already known, even if the shattered plates and scattered food reflected this fact for the nth time. Tears trickled down her cheeks, as unwanted as they were. Staring down at the visual representation of her failure, Yuuki couldn’t bring herself to meet her father’s eyes. Vaguely through the broken fine china, she could only see blurred features—of what was most likely the same fondly exasperated look she’d always see time and time again. 

And time and time again, all it ever did was make her feel small.

The broken pieces cracked further as her father’s neat leather shoes stepped on them, crushed underfoot. Large hands slipped under her arms as her father bent down to pull her up and away. Bare feet sank into glimmering shards, cutting her skin as Yuuki stumbled to balance herself. But her father offered no reprieve, only pulling her harder across the floor. The throbbing sting from her feet was but a footnote in her mind—barely even registering for Yuuki. Her own feelings pained her more than any physical pain ever could.

Still, her head would not move to meet her father’s mismatched gaze.

Her father sighed, “Aren’t you going to speak? Not even an apology for breaking the china? Yuuki, you should know by now that there’s no need for you to do anything as menial as making tea for me—especially when we both know how terrible you are at everything.” Clawed fingernails dug into her skin, easily breaking it to needle at the flesh underneath. “There are people for these kinds of things.” Closer still, their bodies became, by one step and another before they were just close enough for her father’s words to ring even louder in her ears.

(People whom Yuuki never saw, but only ever smelled—stinking, foul with a fear that permeated every inch of their bodies; saturated in the dust scattered around the house)

Suddenly, Yuuki was swept up into her father’s arms, tucked tight into his strong grasp. As he did so, Yuuki’s head was forced to lean against her father’s often bare chest. Perhaps it wasn’t good to reward herself when she erred, but Yuuki still allowed herself to sink into her father’s hold, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It was a loud, but reassuringly constant rhythm.

Down the stairs, they went, eventually ending up in Yuuki’s bedroom—a space full of frills and dolls, everything lovingly selected by her father; from the wallpaper to the bedsheets and her outfits. Gently, he proceeded to place her down on the soft bed, before leaving her. Only momentarily, for before she knew it, he was already beside her legs, picking out the embedded shards one by one. Almost immediately, blood began to trickle from her open wounds. The red was stark against her almost deathly pale skin. 

Yuuki watched her father’s hands still, before shifting to place himself between her legs. A second passed. Two seconds. And then his tongue lapped over the blood trails, cleaning them, his expression almost euphoric, all while she stared and stared and stared. 

And when he was finished, he practically lunged at her, pressing her flat against the bed, crushing their mouths together.

She could taste her blood on his lips.

-

His blood slid down her throat, caustic and bitter—it left a slimy, sour aftertaste in Yuuki’s mouth. Yet even so, she swallowed it down. Because it was a taste unique to her father, the taste of someone who loved her, and wanted her when no one else in the world would.

She’d read before that love (in its truest, purest form) was unconditional. So she drank it all down eagerly, even if it threatened to cause her to choke and her stomach to churn. Yuuki would even lick at his wrist, healing the wound he caused to himself for her benefit.

He loved her, and she loved him. It was a must.

-

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, cradling her to him before he left, even if it was only a short trip. Skin to skin, they touched, only separated by the clothes they wore. Wordlessly, she encircled his torso with her arms, once again listening to his heartbeat. 

She hoped that one day, she’d burn that sound into her mind.

A pain in her neck came and went, and before Yuuki even realised it, she was already alone.

-

And so Yuuki waited. And waited. And waited. And waited and waited and waited and waited—

Her stomach growled. Her throat was sore. Her head was throbbing and she felt faint and energised all at the same time. She should go up the stairs, she should open the door, she should head outside, find her father and pray that he was alive and had not forgotten her—for better daughters, better family members, better than her in any way, shape, or form.

(She should not. It was one of his rules to never go outside, and never open the curtains.

But she wouldn’t be able to withstand it if he’d truly left her.)

A loud knock echoed through the halls, cutting through her train of thought like a sword to the heart.

Yuuki opened the door and—

“Who are you?”

[syphabelnyades]

Made in Abyss for fandom ask!

This ended up being really long so it's under the cut.

3 male characters I love:

Reg, Marulk, and Habo!

3 female characters I love:

Riko, Nanachi, and Vueko~

3 romantic ships I love:

(I see all the kids' romance ships as being purely innocent and wholesome. Kids just learning their first loves and all that. That stuff melts my heart.)

Riko/Reg - just. Ugh. Little kid puppy crushes and just figuring out that oh my gosh I like a girl/guy! is adorable. I love in the intro when Riko jumps into Reg's arms and blushes. It's just so wholesome and pure!

Riko/Prushka - There was definitely some budding feelings between them, especially on Prushka's end. It's another kiddy puppy crush that has that inkling of sadness because of Prushka's fate but also the bound romance of the White Whistle.

Nat/Marulk - Their interactions in Marulk's Daily Life were so sweet! It's apparent that Nat had a bit of a thing for Riko, so him seemingly moving on and then also having feelings for Marulk was sweet. I just wonder how Marulk got to Orth, though?

3 platonic dynamics I love:

Riko/Nanachi/Reg - Full team!! I love their interactions with one another! Everyone plays off of each other so well.

Lyza/Ozen - Oh god Lyza talking to Ozen and telling her that she wants Ozen to see off Riko to send the girl off to Lyza... That really got to me.

Vueko/Belaf - Though we didn't get to see too much of them, what Belaf told Vueko about her dark eyes holding beauty and whatnot was very sweet. Vueko is such a tragic character that never really caught a break, and I think someone seeing beauty in her after her lifetime of abuse was something that was finally a thing of comfort to her.

3 favorite moments in canon:

The elevator scene. Masterfully done. Absolutely horrifying. Using Forest of the Abyss over Crucifixion was an excellent choice in editing. And Mitty promising she'll be strong for Nanachi... aaaa.....

Riko getting hit by the 4th Layer's curse is gut-wrenching. The juxtaposition of her staying calm while Reg is sobbing and and freaking out is the best/worst part. This is a 12 year old who's bleeding out and poisoned and telling her meek, shy friend to break her arm and cut it off, and somehow she's keeping calm... until the pain sets in. God. Riko has balls of steel to even keep herself together for any amount of time in that situation.

The start of Dawn of the Deep Soul, with the team meeting the Umbra Hand in the Garden of Eternal Fortune, is such a haunting experience. Something about the whole garden going up in flames with the soundtrack playing is incredibly impactful. The actual track that plays, Encounter the Umbra Hands, has this amazing swell of violins (?) around the 55 second mark that, sadly, got drowned out in the movie, but listening to it on its own gives me chills.

3 favorite headcanons:

I know Irumyuui's babies are modeled after hermit rats, but I still like my interpretation that they're also very toylike in appearance and that they represent her playing House, sort of.

...honestly, I don't have headcanons for this series, just theories.

3 least favorite things about it:

begging the mangaka to please be normal and not a creep please please i love everything about this show except him being like that. it's fictional, yeah, but i still feel dirty.

I wish Riko had more to do in the climaxes of S1 and S2. She was very active during DotDS but basically S1 and S2's endings involve Reg crying and blowing up some poor abused anime child while Riko is passed out.

This is more of a game thing but I wish Binary Star was just... better. It's very clearly a licensed game adaptation and it's fun, but not $60 worth of fun. I got it on sale for $30 and I surpassed my $1 an hour threshold, but I still feel like I got cheated a little. There's a lot of clunkiness in the game that I think would've been better if it was an original property. There's this one quote by Sakurai about how licensed games are more concerned with feeling like the source material rather than being a good game, and I think that applies here. At the very least, I wish the Ido Front area was expanded and we got to find a really cool big relic or two as part of a storyline.

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin, Shmi, and the Jedi Babies

(Plus Jango)

A scene from the Anakin and the Jedi Babies

Warnings for: canon-typical discussion of slavery.

Shmi is eleven years old when the stranger comes.

He’s tall, and covered in the kind of dark clothes that are hell in the desert. He’s got some armor, too, but not as much as the Mandalorians she sees walking around sometimes. His expression is mean, even though he’s smiling, and she thinks the trader is scared of him.

He’s buying her.

“Now I just need a name for the ownership paperwork,” the trader says. She thinks he’s sweating.

“The sale is already completed, yes?” the stranger says. He tilts his head and purses his lips, still smirking. “No sudden fees coming my way?”

“Of course not, honored customer,” the trader simpers.

“Anakin Skywalker.”

Shmi’s heart stops. That’s her family name.

The trader gets a little paler, as he realizes why this man is here. Shmi watches the calculations fly, wondering if he can maybe squeeze out a few extra wupiupi on this sale. Former slaves freeing family, even family they don’t know, always fetches the highest price.

The stranger—Anakin—leans across the counter and looms over the trader, smiling in the most threatening way Shmi’s ever seen. “No sudden fees, right?”

“Well, there will be the code transfer f—”

“I’m the most dangerous person in this city,” the man says, smile dropping away like flies from a bantha. “Don’t make me prove it, friend.”

The sale is secured, the codes handed over, the detonator passing hands.

Shmi falls into step next to Anakin, hurrying to keep up with his longer strides. He takes her a few blocks away without a word, and then into a shallow spot in an alleyway, right where foot traffic won’t be a bother.

“Hey,” he says, dropping to one knee and placing himself where, even when she sets her gaze low, he’ll be there. He smiles at her, hesitant but far, far kinder than what she saw in the shop. “Do you want me to deactivate your chip now, or once we’re on my ship? I can’t remove it until we’re out of here; I’m no surgeon.”

“…now, please,” she whispers, and watches him punch in the numbers and codes to neutralize the bomb she’s carried inside herself since she was three. It’s done in less than two minutes.

“Do you want me to break this?” he asks, voice soft.

She nods, and watches in fascination as he crushes it in his fist with seemingly no effort.

He smiles at her, tosses the shards into the nearest compactor, and then offers her the hand that isn’t in a glove. She takes it, like she used to take her mom’s before they were separated, and follows him through Mos Pelgo. He’s family. He’s cleanly, clearly freed her. She should be able to trust him.

“Where are we going?” she manages to work up the courage to ask.

His stride stutters a bit, his hand squeezing hers, but his voice is even when he speaks. “Well, I would like you to stay with me, but if you have… have any family to return to, that you know how to find…”

“I don’t know where my mom is,” she says. “She got sold when I was four.”

He squeezes her hand again, and she dares to look at his face. His eyes are squinted, angry, and focused on the horizon. She’d call it stormy, if she’d ever been to a planet of water, but she was a child of the desert. She could feel his anger, and it wasn’t hot and sharp and blinding enough to be a storm of sand.

(She felt that it could be, in the intuition that had kept her alive these past years.)

“I see,” he says. “I’m… okay, then. I’d try to find her if I could, but I don’t know how to do that.”

Shmi shrugs. “She was sent to Jabba’s. I don’t think she’s… um. She’s probably dead, now.”

He’s silent in response to that.

“How did you find me?” she asks, because her intuition says to trust this man to keep her alive, even if she thinks she may not trust his temper.

He thinks about that for a second, and then lets go of her hand for a moment to brush aside a layer of his tunic.

A lightsaber.

Her eyes dart up to his, wide and maybe a little awed. He grins, a little more carefree than before.

“Jeedai?”

“A full Jedi knight, believe it or not,” he confirms. “The Force led me to find you. I don’t think I’d have been able to do locate you without it.”

“Wizard,” she whispers, and then he pulls her into his side and out of the way of a large, too-fast-for-these-streets speeder.

He swears under his breath in a language she doesn’t recognize.

“So, I’m going with you,” she says. “Um, where… where do Jedi live?”

“The Temple is on Coruscant,” he tells her. “But I’ve got business in Mandalorian space, so that’s where I’m based out of right now.”

“Okay,” she says. Mandalore… maybe that’s why he’s got armor like one of them. “I… I heard that Jedi are all called Master, so—”

“No,” Anakin snaps, turning around and getting to one knee in front of her again, hands on both her shoulders, stopping her in a fraction of a second with a look so intense that it scares her. “No, you are never to call me that. You are never going to bow your head to a master again, okay? You are free, and you are family.”

She stares at him for a long second, and then nods. She thinks her head jerks a bit too sharply, but he’s scary. He cares so much that it frightens her. He must be able to tell, because he closes his eyes and visibly forces himself to calm down.

“I was freed when I was nine,” he tells her. “By a Jedi Master. And I know… I know how uncomfortable it is to live like that, where the word means something different to you than it does to everyone else. I became a Jedi, so I learned to make it mean what it was supposed to, respect for teachers and—and elders. But you, you’re not a Jedi, you’re just a girl, and you matter, and—don’t make yourself say it. Please.”

“Okay,” she says. “Do I just… do I just call you Anakin, then?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” he says, and his hands twitch on her shoulders. She thinks he wants to pull her into a hug, but is forcing himself to stop. “Or Ani, if you want, my—my mom used to call me that. Seems like something to keep for family.”

“Okay,” she says again. She can do that.

“Or, um,” he hesitates, and then barrels on. “We’ll be in Mandalore. They say ori’vod to mean older sibling. So, er, you can call me that. If you want. You don’t have to.”

She’ll have to practice. It looks like it means a lot to him. “I’ll think about it.”

“Great,” he says, and dithers for a moment before he stands up and turns around, black robes flaring. “Come on, let’s get out of the sun.”

He leads her to just outside the city limits, where there’s a small ship waiting, enough for a half-dozen people on longer trips, maybe. She doesn’t know much about ships, but this one’s covered in scratches and pits, like it’s been in fights and come out the other side.

They open the door, and are met with wailing.

Anakin rushes past her, shouting, “Ben!”

Shmi doesn’t follow immediately, but he’s been pretty insistent that she’s family, not property. She’s allowed inside.

She finds Anakin in the main room, holding a baby and bouncing it in his arms as he hisses a demand to a boy only a few years older than Shmi herself.

“—my kids, Jango!”

“I’m here to babysit the ship, not the baby!” the teenager argues back.

Anakin scoffs and turns his attention to the baby in his arms. Shmi isn’t entirely sure, but she thinks the baby is definitely less than a year old. It quiets in his arms, tiny hands fisting in the fabric she knows is still too hot from the sun outside.

“Shmi, you can sit down,” he tells her, distracted. “I’d love to talk more but I think I need to make a bottle for Ben. I’ll be back in a few.”

She looks around, sees a bench, and sits down. She presses her hands together in her lap, keeps her eyes on the japor charm her mother left with her years ago, hanging around her wrist. She can wait. She’s patient. She’ll figure out how freedom works eventually.

“Mmmmmmbook!”

Shmi jolts in her seat as a very small body collides with her leg, blue and white and giggling. The head of that small body turns up to stare at her with massive eyes, and she sees the child’s face is orange. Togruta, she thinks, and very young.

The little one pushes a flimsi book onto Shmi’s lap and pats at it, grinning up at Shmi with tiny, pearly teeth.

“Ad’ika, she just got here,” the-teenager-that-is-probably-named-Jango sighs, dropping into the seat next to Shmi. “Let her rest.”

“Sto-wee!” the baby Togruta insists, patting at Shmi’s leg. The little one tries to climb up onto the bench, and Shmi reaches out to help after she realizes the toddler is about to slip. She receives, in thanks, a delighted grin and a montral to the ribs as the child hugs her.

“’m Soka!” the little one introduces.

“She’s one of Skywalker’s,” probably-Jango says. “He showed up with those two a few months ago in the middle of a chaak’la snowstorm.”

“No!” Soka insists, slapping her little hand on the book a few times. “No ‘ssip! Book!”

Jango lets his head fall against the metal wall behind them. “Fine. No gossip.”

Shmi looks at the little girl, and then back at the book. She’s… well, she can read. Mostly. She can read better than most slaves her age, but this is Basic, not Huttese.

She cracks it open to the first page, finds herself relieved that it really is a children’s story with small words and big letters, and starts reading it out loud. She goes slow. The story is about an eopie trying to find its way home after getting lost, asking other farm animals for help. There are plenty of pictures, and sometimes Soka pats at the book and shouts the name of an animal. It’s very cute, overall.

About two-thirds of the way through, she stumbles. It’s a word she hasn’t seen before, long and with repeating letters that she can’t quite figure out how to say. She pauses, long enough that she’s sure little Soka is confused about why she’s stopped.

“Happabore,” Jango mutters.

Shmi lifts her head, but he’s not looking at her. She looks down at the book again, mouths the letters to herself, and thinks that yes, that probably fits. She keeps reading aloud, letting little Soka tell her about her favorite animals, and when she finishes and looks up, it’s to find Anakin standing across from them.

He’s leaning against a doorframe, bottle-feeding the baby named Ben, and watching them with an expression Shmi thinks might be ‘wistful.’

“Skyguy!” Little Soka cheers, sliding off the bench so she can toddle over to the man as fast as her little legs can carry her. “Skyguy, gots a fweind!”

He smiles indulgently and lets her hug his leg. “I can see that, Snips. You guys have fun?”

“Uh-huh!” the little one tells him. She raises her hands at him. “Up!”

“Sorry, hun, no can do,” Anakin apologizes. “I’m feeding Ben, and I need both hands for that.”

She pouts, and he jerks his chin at Shmi and Jango. “Go back to the bench and you can help me feed him, okay?”

Soka races back.

“Fett, go get the ship powered up,” Anakin says as he ambles over, voice the kind of casually commanding that gives Shmi goosebumps. It’s not familiar, not the way an owner is, but it’s… it’s a voice that’s very used to having authority. “I want us out of here as soon as possible.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“I am the commanding officer according to Jaster,” Anakin says, and Shmi watches him raise an eyebrow. “I know it’s not much of a mission, but I am in charge until we’re back on Concord Dawn. You want me to tell him you’re playing at insubordination?”

Jango makes a face, sticking out his tongue. Anakin waits.

Jango goes to start the ship.

“Teenagers,” Anakin mutters, shaking his head. “I want to say I was never that bad, but I’d be lying.”

Soka giggles, bouncing in her seat as Anakin carefully lowers himself down next to her. “Okay, okay, settle down. He’s cranky, kiddo.”

“Wanna help,” Soka stresses, reaching for the bottle. Anakin shifts away from her, keeping it out of her reach. “Skyguy!”

“Slow down, Snips,” he chides. “Climb on my lap and we can hold him together, okay?”

Shmi fiddles with her japor snippet, but she can’t help her fascination with the dynamic presented. Anakin obviously isn’t related to Soka by blood, but he’s adopted her as his own. They haven’t said as much, but it’s obvious. He can’t stop smiling as he talks the girl through holding the bottle for her baby brother, even though it’s obvious from the outside that he’s the one actually holding it, and her, and the baby.

The ship hums to life around them. Anakin tilts his head, as if listening to something, and then goes back to the baby.

It’s another minute before Anakin says, “Okay, that’s enough. I need to burp him. Go on, scoot.”

Soka grimaces as well as a two-year-old can, and slides off of Anakin’s lap onto the bench. He stands and presses the baby up to his shoulder, patting it on the back. There’s a towel there already, something Shmi hadn’t noticed earlier.

“I’m going to go check on Jango,” he tells them. “Shmi, can you get Soka in her seat? I’ll tell you how to buckle her in, but I promised Jango he could fly us back and I want to sit up there to make sure he gets us into hyperspace without, say, exploding.”

It’s only a minute or two to get both of them sat down and buckled in, and Soka spends the entire time until lift-off telling Shmi about how much she likes eopies. This continues well until they end up in hyperspace, the jolt of it making the little one squeal in excitement, even if Shmi feels her stomach drop out. Shortly after, the boys wander back in.

“We’re good for a couple hours,” Anakin says. “Nav computer’s got it until we jump back out. Anyone want a snack?”

“Me!” Soka screeches, bouncing in her seat. “Jan-Jan, snacktime!”

Anakin’s eyebrows climb up towards his hairline. “Well, seems like you’ve got a fan, Fett.”

“Shut up,” Jango grumbles, but he does go over and pick Soka out of her child seat, setting her on his hip and going in the direction of what Shmi assumes is the galley.

“You doin’ okay?” Anakin asks, carefully taking the seat next to her. He sits Ben up on his lap, but the baby has trouble staying in that position. Anakin takes his hands, letting tiny fists curl around his thumbs, to help him stay up.

“It’s a lot,” she says. “But I am happy to be free.”

He grins at her. “Glad to hear it. It’s a lot to adjust to, I know, but… I’m happy to have you with us.”

She nods, eyes on the baby that’s swaying from side to side as Anakin moves his hands, like a very, very small speeder pilot.

“Is he, um, yours?” Shmi asks. “Or did you adopt, like Soka?”

Anakin’s smile, so full of love, drops off. He presses his lips into a thin line, and for a moment, Shmi wonders if she’s made a horrible misstep.

“What… what do you know about Jedi relationships?” Anakin asks, voice quiet.

“Nothing,” she admits, but she’s not ashamed of that. Nobody knows much about the Jedi.

“Okay,” he says, more to himself than to her. “Okay, so… okay. There are a couple ranks in the Order. Younglings go in the crèche, communally raised in groups, and then when they’re five or so, they get to become Initiates. A few years later, usually between ten and fourteen, they can enter an apprenticeship to a Jedi Knight or Master, and the apprentice rank is Padawan. When the apprenticeship is done, they become Knights, basically journeymen, and at some point after that, Masters. There are positions that technically rank higher, councils and heads of divisions, and there’s stuff outside the apprenticeship system, like the service corps, but that’s not super relevant. It’s complicated but we’re only focusing on the apprenticeship path for knights.”

He hesitates, and then continues. “One of the ways to become a Master in the Order is to successfully raise a Padawan to knighthood. I was never an Initiate, because I came to the Order so much later than most. I immediately became a Padawan, and my master was freshly knighted. The relationship between master and padawan is… it’s family. Some of the more orthodox of the Order don’t like to put it in those words, but it really is.

“If I ever talk about my Master, just know I’m not talking about any of the owners I had before I was freed. I’m talking about the man who raised me, the man I saw as a father. He may not have seen me as a son, more a brother, but he was only sixteen years older than me, and… anyway. Jedi lineages are family. Your Master is a parent, or an older sibling, and your Padawan is a child to bring up as your own,” he finishes this off with the kind of deep, heavy breath that she thinks precedes grief. She can’t tell.

“My master is… well, he’s not in a position to teach anyone anything anymore. Ben here is all I have left of him.”

Oh.

Oh.

Anakin doesn’t look at her, just stares down at the baby that’s gotten cranky again, and rearranges Ben to lie sideways in his arms. He smiles down as the baby burbles up at him, and tickles at the baby’s stomach. Ben grabs at Anakin’s fingers and kicks at the air, laughing in the manner of all children that small.

The man hums, and Shmi is more shocked than she should be to hear one of the lullabies she’s heard in slave quarters all her life.

“He’s your son now,” she says, more firmly than she feels. “He is yours to raise and care for, and I can tell you love him as much as any parent.”

Anakin lifts his head, staring at her like he can’t quite believe she’s there, and tears collect at the edges of his eyes.

“Thank you, Shmi Skywalker,” he says, and she feels like there’s more weight in those words than there should be. He licks his lips, eyes darting away for a second, and then asks, “do you want to hold him?”

She steels herself, and nods.

This is her family now.

Hers.

[redorich]

You- you. This AU. This Welsknight and Ghostbur fluffy, found family AU has completely ruined me. My brain has conjured up fluff and it’s adorable and I had to reread everything posted about this three separate times because it’s so good!

Me: homework?

My brain: SilverDuo! (Which I have mentally started calling them because they have silver skin/armor)

Seriously, some of my head canons for this fic (hope you don’t mine me putting a few here…):

Wels teaches Bur how to shine armor, so that it gleams in the light and looks better. They sing and laugh as they clean and polish steel and iron plates in the sun, a picnic lunch nearby for when they’re done. In return, Bur weaves flowers from the gardens into Wels’ hair as he braids it. As time goes on, the braiding gets more complicated, Ghostbur pulling on his memories of doing Techno’s hair. They reserve hair time for evenings in the house or under the stars.

Wels’ hair grew out when he was unconscious, and he’s not used to its length, but he finds that he’s fond of it because of how gently Bur braids and styles it. While Wels doesn’t like how tangled it can get, he’s glad he has the reminder that he’s not alone whenever he feels the petals and stems of flowers on his neck, tucked into his armor.

Bur can’t stand minecarts or mineshafts because they remind him of the rails in the train station, and the loud thundering of subway cars that would never stop for him. But he does love to fly with his new Elytra, and while the rockets scared him at first, he soon got used them. He loves the wind in his face and floating on silver wings. It reminds him of the nice memories of his father, the few he has left from before the SMP.

Both Wels and Bur love to sing and write poems, so they decided one night to have a competition to see who could write the sappiest platonic love poem for each other. Bur, to Wels eternal embarrassment and delight, won the knight over with a full-on soliloquy. Wels had Ghostbur in stitches as he rapped a hilarious but heartfelt song. Both were bright red/silver by the end of it, laughing hysterically, and kept copies of the recordings of their poems in their Enderchest. They declared it a tie.

Bur misses Friend. Often. Wels offered to help him make a grave to remember his blue companion. The grave sits down the road from their home, surrounded by cornflowers and daisies. It reads,

“In Remembrance of Friend,

Cheeky Blue Sheep and Beloved Companion

May you rest in a warm field with lots of grass and colorful sheep friends”

Wels has frequent nights where he can’t fall asleep unless Ghostbur is nearby, terrified that he won’t be able to wake up again. Bur will hold him tight, humming the same song he would hum to Tommy during the Revolution and early Pogtopia. It took several weeks for Bur to quietly open up about Tommy. Wels secretly loves the idea of a mini-him, bright blue eyes (though now a duller grey) and matching blonde hair, going around and cursing out his enemies while charging them with no chill whatsoever. Of course, he would never admit it, because he’s a proper Knight that Shuns Swearing™

Ghostbur can possess people, but had no idea until a lovely outing suddenly became dangerous. He and Wels had been out exploring when a thunderstorm rolled in, causing a light drizzle to fall almost instantaneously. In a panic, Bur lunged toward Wels, who was scrambling to pull his shield out and hold it like an umbrella. To both of their shocks, Ghostbur phased right into Wels. They could hear each other’s thoughts and feel each other’s panic. It took them ten minutes in the soaking rain to calm down and another 5 to struggle over to a tree, sheltering from the rain. Wels’ eyes were a brighter shade of blue than usual, closer to white. His hair had also darkened just a shade. Thankfully, however, he still did not burn in the rain. After finally figuring out how to separate, Bur and Wels agreed to save that for emergencies, but also resolved to practice sharing a body occasionally, just in case they needed it. They also agreed to set a time limit cap for an hour at most, afraid it would become permanent if they weren’t careful. (It did result in them becoming closer, though. It’s easier to understand someone when you’ve literally shared a body with them.)

(Right, back to homework now. Hope you enjoy the little headcanons I hold, I swear the multiply by the minute when I’m not looking lol.)

aaaaaugh if i had gotten this sooner i would have been able to fit more of it into the current arc 😫 hope this works haha

-------

“Carpeted kitchen!”

“Absolutely not,” Wels says, pouring M&Ms into his popcorn. A few fall onto the couch, and he scoops them up before they fall between the cushions. On the TV, a young boy discovers that his dog is really quite good at basketball.

“Hand me some popcorn,” Ghostbur entreats, and Wels hands it over his shoulder for Ghostbur to pluck from Wels's fingers with his lips like a horse, because Ghostbur's hands are currently tangled deep in Wels's hair.

“But can we have a cool biome?” Ghostbur asks as he weaves strands around and around in a tiny fishtail braid starting at Wels's temple. “Something unique, like a mountain or an ocean!”

“You know, Zedaph actually builds his base in a mountain every season?” Wels says conversationally. He hands Ghostbur another handful of popcorn. “But wherever we build really just depends on where everyone else has already set up.”

Ghostbur makes a pouting noise with a mouth full of popcorn.

“Aren't you literally allergic to water, anyway? Why do you want to live in an ocean?”

“Hm,” Ghostbur says dismissively, then avoids the question for no reason at all. “Do you think I could possess someone?”

Wels shrugs, and Ghostbur scowls when the motion dislodges some of his fragile in-progress braiding.

“I don't see why not. I imagine you'd have to be in some pretty dire straits, though.”

“Why?”

“Well, wouldn't it take a lot to, like, phase into someone?” Wels asks. The TV shows a heartwarming scene between Bud the golden retriever and a high school boy named Josh.

“I guess, if you want to be lame.”

Wels snorts, then changes the subject back to the first topic. “Do you want to learn how to build medieval style? It's my favorite, but we can try something new if you want.”

Ghostbur considers for a moment as he ties Wels's hair off with a hot pink elastic. “Medieval, he decides, “but something smaller-- like a home. With little buildings for different things, and maybe a river in the back, just to watch the water flow from a safe distance…”

Wels can practically see it in his mind’s eye. He smiles. “Yeah, I think we can do that.”

[delicrieux]

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”. 

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing.  word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie​:  y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this ����💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!” 

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

queen rly went from  🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing. 

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.” 

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live 

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜 

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall. 

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets. 

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout. 

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times  u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

[critical-goat]

The Brothers Animal Forms

I know animal forms are something talked about a lot, but... I also wanted to chip in my two sense on the matter <3

Also thank you to the Discord server pals for inspiring this. All chosen for fun rather than realism.

 general head canons

while they can choose what animal they turn into, it takes extra energy to maintain a form that isn’t their familiar animal

they can’t exactly how that form appears, so their appearance for that form is consistent each transformation, but not necessarily the same compared to other forms

Lucifer

His default animal form is, unsurprisingly, a peacock. He’s been known to occasionally turn into a bat or a wolf if the need arises.

His feathers are solid black and shiny and his tail feathers sport blindingly white eye stalks (if you stick him in a dark room they glow!!)

If he has to go with you while shapeshifted, he WILL park himself right on your shoulder like a cantankerous shoulder ornament. His tail feathers are always draped over your shoulder, looking like a kick ass cape and if he tucks his head around your neck just right, he could be mistaken for a weird and clunky accessory. He does eventually get to be too much for your shoulders (bc these bastards weigh like 20 pounds, its ok at first but after awhile it gets HEAVY)

Even as a bird, he has a stare that would make all but the hardiest turn tail and run and given that peacocks are dicks and prone to violence, no one would think twice about getting close. (it goes double when they realize holy shit its the freaking Avatar of Pride)

You’re going to be hard pressed to convince him to turn into anything else. His wolf form closely resembles Cerberus but don’t mention it or accuse him of loving his dog, he’ll deny everything.

If you try to convince people Lucifer is your emotional support animal, he will bite you when no one is looking. Affectionately and in a very unsexy manner.

Mammon

Default is a magpie, shiny black with a big white patch upon his chest. Sees no reason to turn into anything else. (I can see him taking a liking to ferrets just to hang off your shoulder like a floppy noodle)

Mammon refuses to NOT go with you, so he’ll sneak his little birdy butt into your bags when you go somewhere and hide out until you get somewhere he can (spy on) guard you from afar.

He’s found its a lot easier to snitch anything that catches his eye when he’s a bird, but he also doesn’t.... really have a way to distinguish bird instinct saying “oh, shiny. must keep” and “oh that’s something actually valuable” and at the end of the day he has more stuff that bird brain thought was valuable than things that are actually valuable.

Might explain why he tends to get away his thievery.

Leviathan

Itty bitty little snake!! Only alternative is Very Big snake. Bigger than a house. Could probably bite a ship in half (are we sure that’s a snake and not his true form??)

Narrow face and dark sleek scale. Longer than he is thick (wait are we still talking about snakes or- *bonk*)

Wraps himself around your neck like a scarf, and as much as he wants to hide away from prying eyes, could NEVER work up the courage to hide himself in your clothes, especially wrapping around your torso. What, are you trying to give him a heart attack or something!?

Please bring a sufficiently large enough bag for him to hide in, he can’t take all the stares.

Has the most boopable snoot. Do it. He’ll be upset if you do it in front of anyone.

Satan

Despite the current reputation of the unicorn in pop culture, there’s a reason they’re Satan’s familiars. The real ones are spiteful creatures and prone to fits of mischief.

But unicorns aren’t exactly..... inconspicuous or allowed into enclosed spaces. So he does have alternatives he often turns to instead. Go ahead and guess what he turns into...... If you guessed a cat, you are correct.

As a unicorn he’s a pale sandy color, with slender legs, hoof ‘feathering’, the traditional tufted tail, and a branching, jagged horn.

Cat Satan is rather petite, and ginger in color and the type of cat that will knock over a full glass of water for your attention. PET HIM DAMMIT. (Also has a boopable snoot, more receptive than Levi)

If you must bring him along as a cat, he will insist on trying to balance on your shoulder. Eventually gives up and settles for letting you cradle him oh so gently as you walk.

... It’s not that bad. Oh wait, is that Lucifer staring him down? Suddenly its become the best and only way to accompany you places. take that you cantankerous bastar-

Asmodeus

Scorpion bab. As much as he finds beauty in his insect familiar, they’re not for travel. Can usually be found as rabbit instead. (insert horny joke here) The prettiest little bun you’ll ever see. Has also been known to turn into a sparrow and a stag.

Tiny bun, can fit in your hands for optimal ease of carrying. Champagne colors, with cute lil droopy ears and a dark nose.

He insists you carry him with you one of two ways. On your shoulder and continuing to pet and cradle him or in a fashionable bag. No compromising on it either.

Adores the attention he gets from strangers. He is rather adorable, isn’t he? <3

Wait, Asmo stop charming people into giving you more pats you fiend.

Good luck getting untangled from all the crowding people.

Beelzebub

A fly. Has been known to turn into other bugs (mostly beetles) and not much else.

As a beetle, he’s a very bright and vibrant red color.

He’s followed you around as a fly before and it was ok for a bit.... but you keep mistaking him for a regular fly and swatting him, much to your horror. Its ok, he knows you wouldn’t have if you remembered (somehow that makes you feel worse than if he’d been upset)

Eventully he opted for the beetle instead (its not any less confusing some times but the number of swats goes down significantly)

You don’t know why, but for some reason you were possessed to bedazzle beetle Beel exactly once. He came out so very pretty. You even managed to tie a ribbon on one of his atennae. Very pretty indeed. You still have pictures of the incident.

Beel was a very good sport about it.

Belphegor

Cow man. He refuses to turn into anything else. Too much effort. Once he turns into a cow, you’ll have a cow on your hands for quite some time, finding that he doesn’t care enough to turn back just yet.

Fuzzy cow, very long fur, droopy ears, and big soulful eyes. Wicked dangerous horn, though. He’s tried to trample Lucifer a large handful of times, Diavolo at least twice, and tried to gore Satan once. (Satan won that battle and he decided never again)

You’re not getting him to go anywhere. Even if he could be convinced to physically moce somewhere, its not like anyone is gonna let a whole cow in.

And so, for a great many reasons, cow Belphie happens very rarely

He makes for a wonderful pillow though.

[quindolyn]

heyyyyy, can you do harry imagine where when they fight with the death eaters fem reader rescues sirius from bellatrix because she know he is the only relative harry has and gets hurt, so in the hospital harry visits her and thanks her and she tells him that she loves her? like lots of fluff😻

To Be Lovable || Harry Potter

Word Count: 4069

A/N: Hey love, I hope you enjoy this! It was a lot of fun to write.

Warnings: mentions of a broken bone, let’s just pretend that Sirius’ name has already been cleared, obviously not canon, I believe that that is it.

Masterlist

Life had fucked Harry Potter over, that was for sure. It basically said “fuck you” and gave him the responsibility of saving muggle and wizardkind alike. Robbed him of a family, of a childhood, of any semblance of the confidence he so desperately needed. 

But life always outs. Life will always find a way to straighten itself out, even the scales. Life had given Harry Sirius Black, so it was doing a pretty good job so far. Just as life had fucked Harry Potter, it’d fucked Sirius Black too.

When life gave them each other it slowly started mending its wrong doings with Sirius’ false imprisonment, Harry’s lack of a father figure, their shared lack of affection of any sort. In Harry Sirius had found a friend, a son and in Sirius, Harry had found a father, someone to care.

You had spent the last five years watching Harry suffer trial after trial all while you suffered a trial of your own, the trial of loving him from afar. As much as you adored Harry, and you really did, how could you not? From the blush that painted his cheeks at the slightest compliment, to the way his glasses sat crooked on his nose, to the messy black mop of hair that sat upon his head the boy was completely and utterly loveable. But it was because of the love you harbored for the boy that you refused to confess your feelings to him, he had more than enough on his plate. The Boy Who Lived most definitely had better things to do with his time than deal with the feelings of a hormonal teenager. Perhaps that was life’s way of fucking with you, making you love a boy who didn’t have it within him to love you back.

Life didn’t get to fuck with Harry Potter anymore, he’d done more than his fair share of suffering, of grieving, he’d more than served a punishment he’d never earned. That’s all you could think about as you saw Bellatrix point her wand at Sirius’ form, laughing maniacally as a jet of green light shot from the tip of her wand, aimed directly at Sirius. 

Head thrown back in laughter, eyes closed, it was clear that he wasn’t going to be able to dodge the curse leaving you with no other option but to full on tackle him. You threw your body at him, aiming to take him down at the knees but failing rather miserably instead wrapping your arms around his chest and instead of knocking him to the ground, making him stumble backward.

Regardless, on the floor, or a few inches to the right, you still managed to knock him out of the curse’s path. Sirius hadn’t realized who was on top of him or that their intentions were good rather than evil, in the heat of the moment, with curses flying to and fro you were flung from his body as he knocked you onto the floor.

As you landed on your side, your arm trapped beneath you, you heard the distinct, sickening snap of what couldn't have been anything other than bone. The sound rang through the din in the room, impossible to miss but yet no one seemed to offer you so much as a glance, anyone except Sirius that was. 

“Shit” He swore, bending down to access the damage, gently turning you on to your back so that he could get a better look at your arm, “I’m so sorry (Y/N).”

“It’s fine Sirius,” You slurred, not daring to look at your arm, the pain you were feeling was enough, you were more than fine without visuals to match. Having never broken a bone before you were not ready for the immense pain that festered in your arm, sharp and stabbing it felt like every single nerve in your arm was being bludgeoned over and over again, mercy be damned.

“You’re slurring your words (Y/N),” Sirius scolded, not angry at you but rather at himself, “You’re not okay and it’s not fine. Now did you hit your head too?”

You thought for a moment, had you hit your head?

Yes, you remembered the thump of your skull against the hard stone of the room hidden deep within the Department of Mysteries, and the more you thought about it, the more clearly you could feel that the dull thrum of pain was still present where the initial impact had occurred.

 “Y-yeah,” You stuttered out, your vision blurring as the man kneeling above you started to fade, “I think so, it hurts.” Black spots began to dance through your vision, the cacophony of noise in the room became a low buzz as the sound of your blood rushing through your veins overwhelmed you. It became the only thing you could hear.

You heard the faint noise of Sirius letting out a slew of curses, not all of which seemed to be in English as his hands moved to your scalp, gently pressing down until a sharp pain coursed through you. 

“Fuck,” Someone, swore, him or you, you weren’t sure. It was very possible it had been either of you as Sirius pulled his hand away from your head and back into your visage. His middle three fingers were soaked in blood, your blood. Crimson and dripping from his digits the metallic scent flooded your nostrils making you work not to gag as you found the stench to be truly nauseating. 

He spoke again, or at least you thought he did as you could faintly make out the whisper of his voice and the moving of his lips.

Faintly you wondered if you heard the familiar voice of a certain bespectacled boy, frantic as he approached you, and the glimpse of dark, messy hair you caught almost convinced you of such. But as more and more blackness took over your vision it became harder and harder to tell until you were completely swallowed, and your eyes blinked closed into a dark, dreamless sleep.

“She’s not exactly asleep,” Someone was talking.

“Well she sure as hell isn’t awake,” There was someone in the room.

“If you’d let me finish Mr. Weasley-”

“Oh shut up,” This voice was new, deeper than either of the previous ones, its posh accent distinctly different than the other two, “No need to condescend the boy just tell us if (Y/N)’s going to be alright. Harry’s going to want to know when he finishes his business with Dumbledore.”

Harry? Was Harry alright? Stupid question, if precedent was anything to go on, he probably wasn’t.

At the mention of his name you felt a wave of energy surge through you, it was only with that energy you were able to blink your eyes open. They desperately wanted to close as the harsh white light of the room flooded your irises but you refused to let them, instead squinting so that the light entering your vision was limited. 

“As I was saying,” The first voice continued, “She’s in a medically induced coma, this isn’t a restful sleep this is because she can’t afford to be conscious right now and when she wakes up she’s going to be in a whole world of pain and having the six of you here isn’t going to help her.”

No one seemed to notice your new state of consciousness as they continued their conversation, voices tense with worry as they batted back and forth in a game of verbal racketball, a question met by an answer which was countered by another question.

You were too out of it to take offense to their neglect as you felt that surge of energy start to slip away from you, like sand through your fingertips. Grasping onto the last whispers of it before it drifted away from you entirely you cleared your throat, the sound minuscule but apparently just loud enough to catch the attention of a certain red headed girl.

“(Y/N),” This voice was unmistakable Ginny. You turned your head to face the source of her voice, met by the blurry outline of unmistakable Weasley red, they really should just patent it at this point, hair surrounding a pale face. “(Y/N) you’re awake!” She lunged towards you gripping your arm in her hand, albeit a little painfully, but all pain, and sound, and sight seemed fuzzy, like remembering a dream from the night prior.

At Ginny’s words, all heads in the room snapped to your form where you laid in the hospital bed, looking as though you’d seen better days. Which granted, you had. 

It took a second for them all to register the meaning behind what Ginny had announced, but as soon as they did they went into a flurry, a healer rushing to take your vitals, moving her wand up and down your body, muttering incantations under her breath. Molly was at your side, gazing at you with brown eyes swimming with worry as she ran a hand down the side of your face which was still lolled to the side. Two identical boys stood at the foot of your bed while two girls, the previously spoken of redhead and her curly haired friend stood back, giving the Healers space to move about. 

Sirius stood over Molly’s shoulder, his eyes drowning in guilt as he failed to return your gaze. 

“Where am I?” Godric you sounded awful, and it felt like there was gravel in your throat, irritating you even as you merely swallowed.

“St. Mungo’s darling,” Molly answered promptly, trying and failing to suppress a sniffle, “You were hurt at the Department of Mysteries.”

You remembered, oh you undoubtedly remembered. The ache in your arm and head was more than enough to remind you of what had occurred, it was reinforced by the dark haired man looming in the corner refusing to meet your eyes.

After a good deal of fussing both by the Healers and Molly people finally started to stream out of your room, first Ginny and Hermione, followed by the twins and finally the Healers and Molly. 

That left just you and Sirius, who still refused to meet your eyes, in the small room which smelt of dittany and blood. 

It was silent for a minute, then two, before you simply couldn’t take it anymore, if he wasn’t going to say something you would, “S’not your fault Sirius,” Your voice was still rather hoarse but it had improved significantly after downing the three cups of water than had been placed in front of you. 

“You were just trying to save me, you did save me and now you’re hurt.” His head which had previously been hung raised to finally meet your eyes, the shame he carried in his eyes was palpable, remorse etched into his face. A face which reflected every year he’d lived on this planet and then some. 

“M’gonna be fine Sirius, you didn’t know it was me I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” You shook your head lightly to refocus your eyes but that just amplified the pain already pounding in your skull.

Reluctantly Sirius trudged towards you before pulling a chair up to your bed and eventually resting himself in it, not looking at your face but rather at the foot of the bed. “Why’d you do it (Y/N)? Why’d you go to all that trouble to save an old man like me?” There was none of his usual humor in his voice, only a sorrowful curiosity.

“You’re all he has left Sirius,” This drew his attention, craning his neck to look at you, his eyes, accompanied by his continued silence urged you on, “You can’t die on him because then he’ll have no one.”

For the first time since you’d tackled him in the Department on Mysteries however long ago, Sirius Black smiled. Unlike his usual smirks or grins, the one that graced his face was gentle, and perhaps a bit hopeful as well.

“Not so sure about that love,” He let out a laugh so light it was barely a laugh, more like a puff of air, “He’d still have you, wouldn’t he?”

You willed yourself not to give away your true feelings for Harry to his godfather of all people, but the nervous grin that adorned your face was a dead give away to his already good guess.

“He cares about you (Y/N),” Sirius was merciful, sparing you from verbalizing the feelings that the both of you now acknowledged existed, “We had to drag him away from you at the Department of Mysteries.”

“That was Harry?” You perked up, “I didn’t just imagine him?”

“Nope,” He replied, popping his p, “He almost punched Moony when tried to drag him away from you.”

Not knowing how to respond to that you simply didn’t.

“He had to meet with Dumbledore to discuss something, that’s why he wasn’t here when you woke up,” Sirius explained.

“Oh, its okay, I’m sure he has much better things to do than come visit-”

You were cut off mid sentence by the sound of feet thumping down the hallway outside your room. Both you and Sirius turned your heads to watch someone fly by the cracked door of the room, his voice booming as he called out for you, then Ron, then Hermione. 

“Sir, I’m going to need you to be a little quieter,” The stern but kind voice drifted into the room from the hallway.

“Where is she?” Yup, that has Harry. The sound of his voice was ingrained in your head and had been for countless years now. 

You and Sirius stayed silent, still watching the door, listening to the tense conversation taking place between Harry and the St. Mungo’s staff member before you heard Hermione’s voice cut in, trying to calm the two men down.

“Well it sounds like he’s going to be in here soon,” Sirius said, standing up from his chair, gazing down at you.

“It does,” You agreed.

“I will never be able to thank you enough (Y/N), not only for saving my life today but for being such a good friend to Harry, giving him the love that he deserves.” Tears brimmed at the raven haired man’s eyes as he laid his palm atop your hand.

“Of course Sirius,” Your voice cracked mid sentence as you too were gulping down tears.

Leaning down Sirius pressed a fatherly kiss to the crown of your head just as Harry burst through the door.

“Speak of the devil,” The older chuckled, pulling back to his full height as Harry bounded towards you, completely ignoring the presence of his godfather. 

“(Y/N)!” His long legs got him to you in no time at all, when he reached you his eyes snagged on your broken arm before meeting your own. 

Sirius sent you a silent wink as he slipped from the room, you hadn’t noticed him even make his way towards the door. He made sure to shut the door tightly behind him so that you and Harry would be granted some privacy.

“Hi Harry,” You let out a watery chuckle as you took in his appearance, he looked like he’d gotten caught in a wind tunnel with his hair all messy, and the fabric of his tight fitting t-shirt clinging to his chest. 

“Don’t laugh,” He frowned down at you as he settled himself next to you on the bed, “You might hurt your lung or something.”

You smiled at his clueless, over protective behavior, “S’not my lungs that are hurt H, just my arm and my head.”

“There’s nothing just about it,” He countered, “You’d be fine without your arm but you need your head (Y/N/N), can’t go walking around without it.” 

You opened your mouth to say something but you didn’t get the chance before he started talking again, pushing himself off up the flimsy mattress to pace next to your bed, “What the hell were you thinking jumping on Sirius like that?”

You rolled your eyes at his outburst, “Bellatrix had cast the Killing Curse at him, Harry, he was going to die if I didn’t do something!” Your voice raised against your will as you got defensive, you may have loved Harry but that didn’t stop you from getting aggravated with him when he was being an idiot. Take now for example.

“You could’ve died (Y/N)! Don’t you understand that? You could’ve died and I-”

“But I didn’t Harry! I didn’t die and I’m fine now.”

“The hell you are! You’re lying in a hospital bed at St. Mungo’s with a broken arm and a concussion, if that's your definition of fine then I’d hate to see what not fine is!”

“I’m a big girl Potter, I can take care of myself,” You argued, pushing yourself up on the bed so that you were sitting upright, independent of your pillows. How was he being so daft? You’d saved the closest person he had to real family and now here he was, completely railing on you.

He was so caught up in his own head, continuing to pace up and down the length of the room that he didn’t seem to notice when you started swaying, no doubt because you had lifted yourself up too quickly and your head should’ve been resting on your pillow. 

“You may be a big girl (Y/N), but clearly you shouldn’t be left to your own devices because what would possess someone to do something so idiotic?”

You tried to swallow the anger you felt bubbling up in your stomach, threatening to explode in an eruption of words you weren’t quite ready to say out loud. But as he went on and on you found it harder and harder to swallow your feelings until they inevitably bubbled over.

“You idiot,” You cut him off, too fed up with him to listen to what he had to say, “I wasn’t going to let Sirius die because he’s the only family you have Harry! You love him and it would kill me to see him ripped from you, just like so many other good things have been ripped from you, because…”

You went silent, all of a sudden your voice seemed very loud in the sterile room and you realized it’s because he finally shut up. 

“Because why?” He asked turning so that he was facing you, “Because why?”

“Because I-” You felt a rush of heat flooded your face and quickly averted your gaze from the boy, focusing instead on the clock hung on the wall opposite your bed. 

You were quiet for a moment, hoping he would show you mercy and continue on with his ranting but he didn’t. Harry never did stand down from a fight, especially not one that he could win. 

Coming to terms with the fact that the only way this was ending was with a confession from you, you gulped. And with your saliva you swallowed your pride, turning back to face the boy who still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. 

“Because I love you, okay?” You admitted to him, letting your vision glaze over so you wouldn’t have to see the eventual look of guilt wash over his features before he gently turned you down, apologizing, calling you beautiful, telling you how you deserved someone better. Even though there was no one better than him.

You thought he looked like a deer caught in the headlights as he stared at you, unblinking. 

Eventually, after what could’ve been a couple of seconds or could’ve been a couple of hours, he spoke, “Y-you love me?” He sounded incredulous like he didn’t really believe you.

And that’s when it hit you, he didn’t really believe you. 

As a wave of indescribable sorrow washed over you, at the notion that the beautiful boy in front of you really had no clue just how beautiful he was, you maneuvered yourself so that you could stand up, throwing one leg over the edge of the bed, and then the other.

Pushing yourself up into an upright position you were immediately swaying, ready to collapse onto the floor, and Harry must’ve observed that as he came back to his senses as he looped his arms under yours, pulling you into his toned chest, hard from countless hours of Quidditch practice.

“What do you think you’re doing (Y/N/N)?” His voice was softer now, meant for only you to hear.

“Was gonna show you how much I love you,” Your voice was muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt as you abandoned all of your inhibitions, you needed to tell him how you felt, “You clearly don’t believe me when I tell you and that’s ridiculous Haz because you’re lovely and wonderful and you light up my day every time I see you. I can’t imagine my life without you,” You paused your ramble, not noticing the brilliant shade of vermillion his face had turned.

“No, I can imagine it without you Harry and it’s horrible, it’s not a life worth living.”

“Don’t say that (Y/N),” He cut you off, a frown gracing his enviably red lips.

“Would you let me finish Potter?” You sniped playfully, “I love you, Harry, I’ve loved you since we were first years and it kills me that you don’t see how lovable you are. Because you are lovable Harry,” You pulled back a bit to rest your chin on his chest, gazing up at him, “You are completely lovable, and that’s why I put myself in harm’s way today, because if it meant saving someone you love, then it is worth it. It will always be worth it.”

You watched as tears spilled down his cheeks, but you could tell by the smile pulling at his wobbling lips that they were happy tears, “Y-you love me?” 

How your heart could break at three simple words baffled you but it did, “I love you, Harry, I have loved you and I will always love you.”

A smile overtaking his entire face split it in half, a toothy grin you’d like to see on him more often, “I-”

“You don’t have to say it back H, the fact you’re not turning me down right now is more than enough. You don’t have to say it back, we can take it slow,” You cut him off, not wanting to rush him.

“I want to though, I want to say it back.” He insisted, sounding like an eager puppy.

“Really?” You couldn’t suppress the optimistic lilt to your voice.

He nodded surely, still grinning down at you. “I love you (Y/N).”

You had to stop yourself from crying, or screaming, or jumping in the air, or some combination of all three, but that’s all you wanted to do. You wanted to scream and jump and cry but you preferred being in Harry’s arms much more. 

“May I kiss you?” Harry’s voice dropped to a whisper you could barely hear.

“Yes please,” You giggled, standing up on your tippy toes as he leaned down to capture your lips in his.

You poured all the passion of the past five years into that kiss, all of the stolen glances at him, all of the nights spent sobbing, thinking that he could never love you back. All of the sacrifices, all of the hugs, and the smiles you shared. They were all poured into the kiss and they all meant so much more now because being part of something so beautiful could only make those memories better.

Harry wrapped his arms around your back, pressing your body to his while being careful to mind your hurt arm. You dug the fingers on the hand of your healthy arm in his thick hair, using it as an anchor to pull yourself closer to him.

You pulled away first, taking big gulps of air in an attempt to refill your empty lungs. 

“You love me,” Harry stated simply, staring down at you adoringly.

“I love you,” You agreed with a small nod of your head.

“I can’t believe you actually love me.” He smiled again, this grin even goofier than the last, making his emerald eyes shine.

You smiled at the look of childlike happiness that adorned his face, “And I can’t believe it took me this long to tell you.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa @superbturtlemakerathlete

[britishassistant]

I wonder what the supervillains (the dorm leaders) would do if they get switched with their other self in Twisted Wonderland.

They'll meet a younger Yuu calls them senpai and probably get shivers when they hear someone shout Prefect but then realize its Yuu's role in that world.

Bonus would be if Yuuken's there too, sharing the dorm with Yuu.

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

I decided to take a little inspo from my Villainous Paranoiac series for this one! Not a whole lot, but the idea of Twisted Wonderland Yuu being put in the infirmary after the events of Chapter Five!

(Also consider it non-canon, since it kinda involves everyone’s identities being exposed!)

Basically imagine that the supervillains find themselves in what looks like a private school infirmary, late at night. The air is buzzing with a strange energy, almost like the powers back in their home world, but...different, somehow.

The room nearly empty, save for one occupant in a cot close to the door.

Poison Queen and King immediately begin bickering over whose fault this mess is, while Royal Flush tries to get them to keep their voices down or else they’ll be detected. Charon is half a minute from going to curl up in a corner, clutching his freeze ray like a lifeline, while Octo Dealer and Snake Charmer are busy inspecting their surroundings for anything of value or that can be requisitioned into a weapon on short notice.

Tsunotaro has wandered over to inspect the sole other living being in the room with them.

He is pleasantly surprised to see what looks like a younger version of the reporter he’s so fond of, fast asleep in the infirmary cot. Their cheeks still retain the last bit of baby fat from childhood, and there’s some acne left that will fade with age. He may give one cheek a gentle poke, just to satisfy his curiosity. The sleepy mumble they let out is a little more high pitched than normal, but that’s the reporter’s voice alright.

He is less pleased to see dark circles under their eyes, or the bandages around their throat that stink of medicinal salves. If this truly is a younger version of his child of man, then why do they look so worried, even in sleep? Why are they injured and sleeping in this place of healing in the first place? They’re a mere child, barely old enough to operate a vehicle or live alone. Their only worries should be trivial things, not whatever is causing this furrow in their brow and hunch in their shoulders.

The other supervillains have begun to migrate over to where Tsunotaro is crouching in silent contemplation. King flips his eyepatch up to get a better look, whistling lowly. Octo Dealer busies himself with refilling their water glass, sneaking glances at them as he places it within easy reach. Snake Charmer pulls their pillow more under their head from where it’s almost slipped off. Poison Queen straightens the arrangement of the very tasteful bouquet on the bedside table, so the flowers’ best angle is shown to the bed’s occupant. Royal Flush carefully tucks their covers in over them.

Charon takes a picture with his tablet.

He forgot to turn off his flash.

Yuu cracks their eyes open...

To see seven adults looming over their bed in masks that resemble the ink from the overblots that haunt the Prefect’s nightmares.

Cue terrified screaming.

Snake Charmer lunges forward instinctively to cover Yuu’s mouth—

It’s only thanks to Poison Queen yanking him back that he doesn’t end up with an arrow in the shoulder.

Several more follow the first one through the window above the prefect’s cot, cold iron sharp and perfectly aimed to seriously maim if the supervillains don’t immediately get away from the screaming teenager. Rook was lax in protecting the Trickster after VDC ended, assuming there was no more danger after Roi du Poison’s overblot was saved. He will not make that mistake again.

The infirmary doors burst open, a younger Yuuken in a sleep-rumpled uniform barging in from where he decided to sleep outside because Ramshackle felt too empty and quiet to bear, but was forbidden from staying in the infirmary himself. He only has a pillow, but he brandishes it at the strange adults, fully willing to defend his dorm mate in whatever way he can.

The vanguard appears in a flurry of bats though, too many to fight off, small and vicious and furious. Their commander materializes in the center if the swarm, hovering over the head of Yuu’s cot, pink eyes brimming with a cold rage that makes his small and cute form look like it’s bursting at the seams holding something much older and angrier back. He opens his mouth, fangs long and glistening—

Only to stop short at the sight of one of the supervillains. “Malleus? Malleus Draconia?”

Tsunotaro nods warily.

“Wh-What in Twisted Wonderland are you wearing??”

Tsunotaro ducks his head like a chastened child. “I could say the same thing.” He mutters sullenly.

From there the lights get turned on, and the seven supervillains are made to explain themselves to the sleep-deprived students and staff who trickle in to see what’s going on. All six dorm leaders and one vice dorm leader vanished from their beds, setting everyone on high alert until news of these...alternate versions spread.

It is very weird for the supervillains to see all their minions as teenagers (again in some cases). It is only surpassed by how weird it is for everyone else to see their dorm heads and vice head all grown up and adult, even if they are dressed weird.

Ortho still wants to shoot them with a beam until they bring back his nii-san. Luckily Charon is able to convince him that Idia should be fine if he’s in Charon’s lair—he’s got plenty of the latest games, manga and tech for him to play with, so that should keep him occupied for a while.

Sebek is in a state of Malleus awe. He has shut down and will not restart. Silver has taken to pinching himself just to make sure this isn’t a Lilia’s cooking induced fever dream, while Lilia himself scolds Tsunotaro that he raised him better than to go around watching people sleep like that! Tsunotaro tries to use the “but I’m a supervillain” excuse, only for Lilia to shoot back “and I’m a war criminal in some nations, what’s your point?”

King is enjoying watching the overgrown lizard get scolded. Now if only the tiny Ruggie would stop asking him what injury the eyepatch is for, and making remarks about how embarrassing it would be if it were totally pointless—King does not pay his adult self so much to put up with this shit. The baby Jack also needs to stop demanding to know if his adult minion self can pull a sled faster than a moose or something...

Jade and Floyd are attempting to wind up the adult Octo Dealer, trying to see how much they can get away with compared with the normal Azul. Octo Dealer is legitimately at a loss as to how this world’s Azul doesn’t keep them in line without letting them turn to a crime or two. Then he learns about Azul’s contract business and feels a pang of commiseration and understanding.

Poison Queen, Royal Flush, and Snake Charmer are unpleasantly shocked when their dorms address them by their respective secret identities in front of their fellow supervillains out of the blue.

Poison Queen has to put up with King’s uncontrolled laughter as he finally understands the full extent of the incident with White Neige so long ago, while Tsunotaro tries to tell him he liked Schoenheit in his role as the evil dragon prince in the GaoGao dramatization. Royal Flush is about two seconds away from throttling Octo Dealer if the bastard doesn’t stop trying to make a deal to guarantee his mother doesn’t learn about her son’s private activities. Snake Charmer’s just glad his civilian identity flies under the radar enough that Charon has to try and look him up to understand who he is (and fails because he’s not on school wifi and his cellular data is bust).

Poison Queen is also getting a headache from Rook rhapsodizing about how his villain form is another, enhanced mode of beauty he is fortunate to lay eyes upon, as if he hadn’t been willing to skewer Poison Queen along with the rest of the supervillains five minutes ago. He’s at least able to amuse himself by letting Epel run away with his speculations about how he’s the buff hyper-masculine muscle for Poison Queen.

Kalim is crying that Jamil had to resort to becoming a villain in his home world! He must be so sad if he has to do that! He’s mildly cheered up when Snake Charmer tells him they work together on schemes, and that Snake Charmer is actually reasonably happy with his chosen vocation—and then he begins panicking that Jamil will like that world so much, he won’t want to come back.

Royal Flush is glad his counterpart at least has good people around to look after him, even if it is odd to have young versions of Trey and Cater trying to mother hen him despite the fact that he’s the older one now. At least Ace and Deuce acting up seems more fitting now considering their age than it ever did on their adult selves.

Ace huffs a sigh and leans on Yuu’s shoulder. “This is a mess, huh Prefect?”

“You said it.” Yuu replies. “I just wanna sleep forever.”

The supervillains go still.

“I’m sorry,” Snake Charmer says carefully. “But isn’t Enma-san the Prefect?”

“No?” Yuuken replies, confused. “Yuu’s the prefect of Ramshackle Dorm. I’m their vice— or would be, if we had any other students apart from them, me, and Grim.”

Octo Dealer laughs, sounding slightly strained. “Ah, apologies, but you see, that isn’t possible. It can’t be. Yuu isn’t—”

“But I am the prefect, Azul-senpai.” Yuu the Prefect says. “I’ve–I’ve always been the prefect.”

There’s a stunned silence.

Royal Flush places his head in his hands. “What the fuck.”

Back in the Supervillain AU universe, Yuu the Reporter sneezes sharply while trying to wrangle five frightened teenagers, one frightened-but-playing-tough twenty year old, and one confused however-old-he-is-but-younger-than-Tsunotaro fae.

They wonder what the chill down their spine is.

[mrs-bartowski]

My dudes. My guys. My pals.

I’m about 10 seconds away from going feral.

So, I’m the kind of unfortunate chump whose brain requires continuity. Meaning, when I started thirst watching Supergirl during its mid-season-2 hiatus and came across the realization that it had crossovers with all the other arrowverse shows, my brain tasked me with watching them all. I won’t put you through a recount of this arduous feat, but it does leave me with the certain advantage of having immediate and full-contextual access to any parallels between supercorp and canon CW DCEU couples.

Normally, this is a good thing, because it’s just another crumb to obsess over. But I just finished watching Legends 6x02 and...I. AM. FUMING.

I literally don’t even know where to start, but know that if you’ve made it this far you’re in for a long ride because my entire being is in Scream mode right now and I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop typing until it passes.

OKAY. So.

Meet Sara Lance (lol jk y’all thirsty gays know who she is I mean look at this flawless human)

Next, meet her ******* Ava Sharpe (who is literally the definition of white European beauty standards-based perfection because she’s a clone from the future)

And finally, meet Gary Green. He’s...well, he’s Gary.

Sara started out on Arrow and is now the captain of the Legends. Ava was the director of the Time Bureau and Gary was an agent, and now they are also members of the Legends. Sara has been there (and been the show’s effective lead) since season 1. Ava and Gary both came in at the beginning of season 3. 

Gary is (as pictured) an absolute fool, but he is also kind of regarded as the one the Legends Must Protecc. The whole team is considered a family, and, while they are not necessarily labeled as best friends, Gary has been Ava’s longest and most loyal companion, and Sara has a way of adopting him because she’s the best equipped to keep him out of trouble.

So, why is all of this relevant to why I want to go feral? Because it sounds a bit familiar, yes? Member of the team that is somewhat a black sheep, doesn’t get included fully or all the time but often comes in with save-the day type shit (even though with Gary it’s more of a distraction than a save because he’s a mess of a man). Close friend to one of our two main heroes and, subsequently, that hero’s closest companion puts them at the top of their Protecc list. Has little faith in his relationships with the team so he is constantly going out of his way to help in whatever way he can to prove his usefulness. And so on and so forth.

Well, 6x01 marks exactly 3 years since Gary’s first appearance, and what did we find out in that episode? That Gary is an alien. And not just any alien - an alien who was sent (by the woman he was traded to) to get close to Sara because she has been labeled as one of the world’s most dangerous creatures. Not to mention, his species of alien feeds on humans (not him of course, he’s reformed, but nonetheless not a friendly species). And we find out all of this because he and his master abduct her.

Sara finds out in person while Ava and the rest of the Legends solve the mystery on their own. Now, I’ve drawn a lot of comparisons between Lena and Gary to make a point about the time frame and nature of their relationships, but let’s take a look at Sara, shall we? For starters, she’s been “dead” either literally or supposedly about...what, 15 times now? If you think that’s an exaggeration, here’s the link to her fan wiki which says she’s been presumed dead 10 times and actually dead 5. The sg writers tried to sell season 5 as “the fight for Lena’s soul” but Sara LITERALLY LOST HER SOUL when she got resurrected in the Lazarus pit. 90% of Sara’s character development has been based on her certainty that she is too close to death and evil and destruction (getting possessed by a demon, perhaps, had something to do with this?). She was an actual literal assassin and she has left civilization out of anger and pain to go back to that life once before.

She has always believed that she is too dangerous to have real love or relationships or friends. And now she has found and built and led this family through time and space and she’s done so with this goofball by her side that is endearingly attached to the love of her life. So, how does she react when she finds out Gary is an alien? Well, clearly, she goes down a dark path, right? She cries and screams and talks about betrayal because she’s had such a hard time with feeling like she only ever puts the people she loves in danger and now here she is finding out there’s been a human-eating alien in her family for three years that was tasked with observing her and keeping her in check because she is exactly that dangerous?

Yeah...try again. This is how Sara reacts:

And then there's another scene that apparently no one even bothered to put on YouTube where you can see the pain in Sara's eyes when she asks him “why me?” You can see how hurt she is that after 3 years she’s just finding out that their friendships is based on lies and that she has trouble keeping her faith in it. But in both of these instances where are the “crocodile tears?” Where are the fearful, shaky confessions from Gary about his fear of losing the only people who have ever really loved or cared about him and desperate justifications about how he just wanted to protect them and keep them in the dark so his master didn’t come after them? Where is the outrage from Sara about how everything Gary has reassured her about over the past three years when she was scared to let the damaged-soul assassin inside of her out was a lie and he doesn’t get to tell her who or what she is again? Where is the determination from Ava to make Gary pay for not only lying for three years but for ABDUCTING THE LOVE OF HER LIFE TO HAND OVER TO A FLESH-EATING ALIEN??????

Nowhere. Those things...they’re nowhere. There’s anger. There’s pain. There’s doubt and heartbreak and fury. There’s betrayal and helplessness and desperation. But there is no scene with Sara standing on a balcony and Gary looking up at her longingly because he wants to talk to her about the secret and he knows it will change everything between them. There is no scene with Sara and Ava lamenting over what this means for Gary and the team and the world because he’s no longer the person they knew. There are no romantically-scored scenes of them looking teary-eyed at the pictures they took together or reassurances that the others’ intentions are good and trustworthy now that the truth is out in the open. There is nothing to imply that the last several years of friendship are now entirely suspect (damaged, frayed, clouded, maybe, but definitely not voided) because Gary kept this secret to protect them. And Gary isn’t made to feel obscenely guilty or shameful because his intentions were good and he only did what he felt he had to. But most of all, the world doesn’t feel like it’s going to end.

And I’m not talking about we’re now scared Gary will take his master’s side or Sara will suddenly decide that she never wants an alien to fool her or hurt her again so she’s going to make sure he doesn’t have the choice. I’m just talking about the way they address each other. There are no sobbing tears or laments over the biggest mistakes of their lives - even though it’s quite possible Gary could see this as his. There are no screaming matches over betrayal and mistrust and years of doubt and confusion. There will be no episode dedicated to going back and seeing what could have happened - what kind of danger they could have avoided from the alien(s) controlling Gary - had he told them the truth sooner because that’s the only way to save him and the world. There will be no episode where he has to single-handedly save them multiple times as some example of redemption. There will be no adamant looks and declarations about how the team knows his intentions were good and they forgive him. There won’t be any of that. Because Sara is not in love with Gary. And Ava is not in love with Gary. And Gary is not in love with either Sara or Ava. They’re just close friends. Family. Loved ones who mean a lot to each other but whose betrayal and seeds of doubt don’t bring on emotions whose force and ferocity could be acceptable for finding out the apocalypse is nigh.

I have many, many more feelings about this but right now I’m going to go write things that will make me feel better and not things that make me want to gather every writer from every CW show in a line and run down the line smacking them all in the face while the Legends writers watch and cheer. But I’m fuming. THIS is what it looks like when a years-long, heavily weighted lie is revealed between close friends/family. So, in conclusion, Supercorp endgame or die.

[keerishima]

HELLO! I saw you were a new blog that needed requests and I was wondering if you could write head-canons for todoroki, bakugou, and kiri (separately) with a s/o that has a witchcraft quirk? TY

well hi! thank you for the request, it was so cool to write! now i’m assuming you mean like a quirk that works like potions and herbs/crystals and spirit summoning and spells which is the road i’m taking i hope that’s okay?

now this boy is

excited

when he first saw the mist swirling around your fingers as you fought the robots in the UA exam, a shock went through his body

what was that? 

okay he didn’t mean to stare- considering he was in the middle of an exam- but the way you moved and the glints of a crystals around your body was just so cool

time passed and he got closer to you, during the dorm competition your room was the only room he wanted to see and boy did he love it

the green ivy and plants in your room, the pots and white smoke curling from diffusers and shelves full of powder and inks organised in a neat row

your room felt like a whole new world- like magic

literally after everyone had left he was still in your room looking around like a meerkat assessing it’s surroundings

fast forward; you guys are dating and he was VERY curious as to how your quirk worked, and you explained how your spells and energy came from the crystals and jewels

each crystal gave you a different energy, which converted to your power!

kirishima literally watched in awe as you pointed at all the different coloured gems and jewels and the symbols on your walls

he even asked to touch some of them and asked where you got them

he also asked to see them in battle, and asked if you had any similar to his own quirk!

the both of you engaged in LOTS of different mock battles, which almost always ended up in a play fight rather than real training- just because he ends up enjoying watching you use your quirk too much to actually focus

once you two had engaged in a long, breathless make out session against one of the walls- what can I say? you wanted to see what it felt like to kiss kirishima in his red riot form and have him melt back to normal under your touch

yeahh...it was a bad idea to do that in the school gym, where half of class 1-B caught you two mushed together against a wall

back to the hc!

he asks SO many questions

sometimes just sits on your bed for ages and asks one after the other after the other, to the point where aizawa has to come and send him back to his side of the dorm

let me tell you now: if you are 1) planning to get anything or 2) NEED anything, don’t let him find out

you once let it slip that you were considering getting pouches to carry these crystals, and the sweet, sweet boy went out and bought BUCKETS of bags

yes buckets because he didn’t know if your crystals would be affected by material or size of the bag or- god forbid what if it did and he ruined your quirk in battle?! 

he’d never forgive himself.

ever.

like literally he’d be on his knees ready for punishment of how you saw fit because of his mistake

what can i say? the boys dramatic

but its endearing :,)

it ended up being the cutest date of you cuddled up on his bed wrapped in his blankets like you were drowning in them,

whilst he sat on the floor, presenting each little bag and pouch to you, all teleshopping style.

‘and THIS 🤩 gorgeous article comes with not just 1😱! not just 2 😱! but THREE 🤯🥵🥳🥳 buttons to clip close to ensure a tight, secure hold of your 😏 special package’

yeah he made a sleazy face

yeah you threw a plushy at him

all of them were bought with your costume in mind and how could you not keep some of the bags? with kirishima watching you with the biggest eyes and slightly-pouting-lips-but-he-would-never-admit-it there was no way you didn’t keep the most useful ones

you asked him to return the extra bags so he wouldn’t have wasted his money, whilst you repaid his kindness with lots and lots of kisses and cuddles

;) or more depending on how you want it

todoroki is uhh...

emotionally constipated

but thats not his fault

#fuckendeavour

sometimes it comes off that he’s not interested in your quirk in a general sense, but it’s only because he doesn’t know how to ask without seeming pushy

he gets shy (but doesn’t show it) but with time that decreases to a sort of dry affection

i’m not saying he’s a dry boyfriend but he definitely isn't as spritely as someone like Denki might be

the way you’d see that he wanted to know more was if he asked you to come and fight with him, train with him and study

this is where he asked about your quirk

he didn’t ask to the extent of kirishima, who said everything that came to mind, he asked precise questions that gave him all the information he was desperate to know because you are so cool it makes his heart burn needed

and he also knew you would add more information as you explained, which he loved because he loved hearing you talk so passionately

this time your quirk allowed you to control people to an extent, depending on different plants and herbs you used

the plants each had a special line, muttered as you dropped the herbs anywhere on your opponent for it to activate

best believe todoroki asked for one to knock endeavour out, literally out of nowhere💀

once, one night you had been laying on your bed, and todoroki had popped over to see you. it was still quite early on in your relationship so you weren’t expecting him to cuddle up beside you and tuck into your smaller body, chin hooked onto your shoulder whilst his eyes bore into yours from below todoroki loves eye contact

‘Do your plants have meanings?’

that’s it, that’s all he softly whispered in your ear

‘What do you mean?’ You whispered back

‘Like...like roses mean love...do your herbs have a meaning linked to what they do?’

okay now he was blushing, very gently because he didn’t want to annoy you, or ask you a question you’d never thought of and make you feel silly or insecure about his quirk

YOU on the other hand were smothering a dopey grin. you knew your boyfriend and his boundaries, and you knew that him asking you in such an intimate setting meant he was trying hard for you

you also knew that he’d just given you free reign to ramble however you saw fit

so you explained, how each herb did this, how if you mixed them they did that, if you made a liquid infused with them it helped with your application in battle and so much more

todoroki listened silently, but his eyes were gleaming

literally glowing in the darkness- I mean was that even possible? it had to have been considering how todoroki looked at you that night

after you were done, he replied with a similar thing about his own quirk, and both of you had a long long chat that went from quirks, to schooling, to life, to aliens and more

todoroki had the weirdest humour, he never knew he was being funny until your quiet giggles morphed into full blown laughter- and caused a knock from the next room over because you were being too loud

he would let out his own little chuckles and smirks, seeing you enjoy his company so much

it was a while after that day when something new happened

you’d sent him a message, whilst he was sitting right next to you, and your contact name flashed on his screen suddenly, catching your eye

‘my calendula’

you looked at todoroki

todoroki looked at you

you both blinked

‘calendula?’ you asked

‘yes’ todoroki replied

‘why calendula?’

‘because,’ todoroki blushed deeply, eyes flickering away from yours

‘because you said calendula means joy...you’re my joy. arent you?’

and god help anyone who tries to say you aren’t todoroki’s joy

because you would literally throw them to the ground

your heart soared at how todoroki loved you and your quirk so much

even though it wasn’t blatantly obvious, it was the little things he did for you 😍

he originally going to call you his basil until Bakugou came round behind him asking him if he was writing the dorms grocery list. safe to say that plan was aborted immediately :D

oho

sorry I just

*pfft*

bakugo amuses me, he really does he’s so entertaining

okay sorry back to the headcanon

I headcanon you’re REALLY strong

like STUPID strong

Remember bakugos reactions to all the students quirks and he was like ‘shit I cant beat them 😨’

And his reaction to todoroki? yeah he’d literally see you use your quirk and just

no I’m joking

but I feel like as your s/o he’d be super obsessed with your quirk

he’d always want to train with you, he’d see it as an amazing part of you that he wants to help hone so you can be the best of the best

not better than him obviously but the best anyway

not that he’d SHOW all of this awe and pride to you, it’s normally delivered in a bunch of bakugo sentences:

‘oi your form is shit. do this instead.’

that means he’s realised a new way you can throw this punch, with much more force

‘tch, go train. you need the training.’

he wants to train with you. again.

‘....finally. took you long enough to learn that.’

you’ve just done something successfully and he’s trying so hard not to blush at how well you did it.

here your power is more destructive

you can create sigils using a your finger in the air and they create attack power

this with bakugos quirk makes a formidable duo, and if he doesn’t get partnered with you he will most likely throw a fit

but not a long fit more of a like ‘oi why is she over there we work better together’

but he realises as heroes you need to work well with anyone you meet, so he’s not too fussy

because of the fact that you draw the sigils, you have a habit of tracing out patterns and new symbols and any sort of designs subconsciously

this is done normally on any part of your skin, with a pen

bakugo being old man bakugo 🙄 got mad at you

he told you off for almost giving yourself ink poisoning and ruining your hand and making it all dirty drama queen

but throughout all of this bakugo had been clutching your hand, and best believe he wasn’t letting go

he used the hand he was holding to pull you along and sit comfortably, dropping his own palm into your lap and mumbling something that kind of, sort of, might have been along the lines of ‘use my arm dumbass’

now you had bakugos arm to scribble on to your hearts content.

you used this when you were stressed, worried that your nerves were causing you to forget things or simply because you wanted to hold bakugo close

in fact, bakugo himself had adopted this habit, and you’ll notice I said arm instead of hand

bakugo got nervous around you, and therefore sweaty, which therefore lead to tiny little explosions in his palms when you were near

but this habit had started to make him feel comfortable with his hands around you, it made him trust himself more

he knew his power was strong and he didn’t want to hurt you, your quirk was something that helped him with that

and he wouldn’t tell you that but he was grateful. VERY grateful

he once asked why you used pen, and not your finger on your skin considering the pen ink is toxic

you answered very quickly, by pulling out a sheet of people and sliding your finger across the surface in a sigil shape

promptly the paper burnt into a cinder :)

and bakugo never asked again

and that is the end! I hope you liked it and I did the idea of Witchcraft justice 😅 please do send some more requests!

god I loved this so much they’re all so cute :,) thank you for this request!!

[i-want-my-iwtv]

I hope the rumours of Louis being a brothel owner aren't true, but if they are I can sort of see why they're going for this route? I mean, with a black Louis they can't have him being a slaver anymore, so maybe they're trying to find something that is also morally reprehensible for him to be.

TL;DR: My kneejerk reaction was to be saddened, and I don’t like that this is starting up, and will continue to fuel, fandom drama. Ultimately, if we want peace, we’ll embrace the fact that the existence of this adaptation doesn’t take away from the existence of the books, and it also doesn't mean we have to acknowledge it.

It makes me wonder whether AMC wants us to make a storm about this. We’ll see...

After all, what makes this adaptation any more important than the graphic novels of the ’90s, the graphic novel Claudia’s Story, movie!IWTV, or movie!QOTD? In fact, many fans here on tumblr consider VC to be a trilogy only!!! and don’t accept the majority of the PUBLISHED CANON so what makes anyone think we have any obligation to swallow this AMC adaptation as some kind of gospel?

I see movie!QOTD as a buffet of ideas carried in an official fanfiction work, and I don’t accept as my headcanon the various things it changed about the books that I didn’t particularly like, such as merging Magnus and Marius (which, IMO, effectively made both characters more morally reprehensible). I accepted the things I did enjoy, like casting a Black/POC actress to play Akasha. I see this AMC adaptation as a buffet of ideas, some can be taken, and some not, it’s just another official fanfiction work.

[Anon, I need to catch other ppl up on the information, too.]

Deadline.com informs us that in the AMC adaptation for Interview with the Vampire, Jacob Anderson has been cast as Louis. I'm not familiar with him, but it looks like he’s a successful actor, from Game of Thrones and other things, he’s also joining Series 13 of Doctor Who. I’ll have to check him out from an acting standpoint!

Aside from his talent as an actor, this is by far the most controversial thing that's happened in VC fandom recently. I've been thinking about this for a few months now, talking about it privately online and offline, still gathering my thoughts. So this post is not engraved in stone, it’s initial thoughts on this.

I’m glad to see ppl talking about it and I’m sure we’ll have more public discussions. I’m trying to discuss it very carefully, but also, this is an entertainment blog, my opinions are mine alone, and I’m not looking for dogpiling on anyone, I have no obligation to respond publicly or privately to anything. Plenty of other ppl have differing opinions on this. So take all of the following with more than a grain of salt, I’m not being salty, I’m providing the links to the little info we’ve seen pulicly, I’m giving my initial thoughts, and I’m also trying to add a little levity because ultimately, again, this is an entertainment blog, and I try to add a little humor to help with such serious topics, humor can help ppl talk about controversial things.

-----

The casting of a POC/Black actor (I’m sorry I don't know the preferred terminology, let me know if you know what Anderson prefers) confirms at least one part of theilluminerdi articles that stated that Louis’ race will be different from the books. I didn’t post about these before bc I wasn’t sure how reliable theilluminerdi’s sources are (and I'm still not sure), but this was one major aspect that theilluminerdi announced before Deadline did, so now seems to be the right time to share those articles. For now, you can go check them out yourselves rather than have my reposting of the information, trigger warning: mentions of sex workers and race in the changes to the canon story of Interview with the Vampire.

>>>theilluminerdi articles from May 21, 2021 and July 15, 2021:

www.theilluminerdi.com/2021/05/21/interview-with-the-vampire-amc

www.theilluminerdi.com/2021/07/15/interview-with-the-vampire-amc-2

^Meme of Dr. Ian Malcom from Jurassic Park reads: “Your writers were so preoccupied with whether they could that they didn’t stop to think if they should.”

I’m using that meme with a little levity here, clearly an AMC adaptation of vampires in which the producers/writers have chosen to change the race of a main character (arguably the original protagonist of the series) isn’t in the same VICINITY as the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park that broke out of containment and killed visitors to the park, but John Hammond’s intention for the creation of that park was very good, as I assume this race change was intended. Time will tell.

“But with this place, I wanted to show them something that wasn't an illusion. Something that was real, something that they could see and touch. An aim not devoid of merit.”

“Creation is an act of sheer will.” 

- John Hammond, Jurassic Park

Race is a more complicated subject than ever, so for AMC to make this bold change, I hope they have POC and Black writers on staff and are handling this very carefully. Even then, no racial group, including POC and Black people, are a hivemind, disagreements are bound to happen in the writing room, whether in good faith or bad. People have different intentions and motives, compromises will probably be made with the story in many ways, we all know how it goes with collaborations; the end product is a shared vision among multiple creators. This could be a potentially controversial adaptation, I don’t know whether they’re aiming for that or not, but with the elements it has so far, it seems to be headed that way.

Here's a comment by "Angellus" on the 5/21 article. It's undeniable that there's going to be the accusation of racism thrown at anyone who has any negative view of this change, regardless of their reasons. I find it unfair and narrow-minded that any negative response is automatically assumed to be coming from a racist point of view. To say that changing Louis' race is unequivocally an improvement fails to take into account how that change has a Domino effect on all of the other parts of the story. Not the least of which is that, if he is still a slaver/slave holder/plantation owner/(insert your preferred term) that adds a whole new racist element to his owning Black/POC people, even though, apparently there were Black/POC plantation owners. 

Not the least of which: How will this change impact his relationship with Lestat? Particularly when Lestat has the added issue of being described in those articles as having “mind control abilities” and “insistent that he gets what he wants and when facing rejection,” a terrible combination in terms of consent, even in a relationship of the same race, let alone invoking Caucasian/white dominance over Black/POC people, AND Lestat being the catalyst to Louis’ questioning his sexuality:

Lestat is insistent that he gets what he wants and when facing rejection, petulance can quickly turn to ruthless rage which causes frenzied acts of horrifically brutal violence. Lestat also has mind control abilities. Lestat initially infuriates Louis, but this soon turns to fascination which leads Louis to question his religion and sexuality. 

^Screencap reads: "I love how racist everyone is in the damn comments, this doesn’t pervert the story you’re all racist and it’s disgusting. I’m looking forward to it, I hope you keep crying your salty racist tears asswipes."

It makes me question whether Angellus truly believes what they wrote, if this is an ideology, or a troll. I would suggest their use of the term “pervert” is correct though, pervert means: “alter (something) from its original course, meaning, or state to a distortion or corruption of what was first intended.” That’s what this race change does, factually. Although, in this context, “distortion or corruption” carries a negative connotation. It would take a lot to show how this change does not meet the definition or “to pervert,” though.

I hope the rumours of Louis being a brothel owner aren't true

I agree 1,000%, I was hoping that these were just rumors. But, aside from the race change, if this were the only change, I find Louis being a brothel owner to be equivalently morally reprehensible to being a slaver/slave holder/plantation owner/(insert your preferred term). Ideally, they’d change his career to something that doesn’t involve benefiting from the bodies/labor of others in any morally reprehensible manner.

I mean, with a black Louis they can't have him being a slaver anymore, so maybe they're trying to find something that is also morally reprehensible for him to be.

He might still be a slaver. Who knows. Being morally reprehensible as a mortal man didn’t seem to me to be crucial to the story, but they still could have chosen something better. It seems to me like they want a brothel so they can have eye candy for an audience who want to see sex workers, maybe full frontal nudity. 

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What also gets my attention is that Anne and Christopher Rice have not yet posted publicly about it, which leads me to believe that this change wasn’t their choice. They take every chance to brag when they’re proud of something, every chance to crowdsource about casting ideas or which VC books Anne’s fans liked best, etc., and in this case, as of Aug. 31, 2021, (and to be fair, maybe I missed it), I haven’t seen either of them post about this on the official VC FB, Anne Rice’s FB, Annerice.com, Christopher Rice’s FB, or christopherricebooks.com. If it had been their choice, I think they would have gladly trumpeted their credit by now, but maybe they’re waiting to do it in a specific venue. Time will tell.