#character tag: runt

[trialbyfire-comic]

Chapter 1: Page 13

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[teehee-vibes]

Hi guys. I’m behind on JRWI-Tober. Here’s my progress so far.

1) Riptide

2) Fave PC

3) Fave NPC

4) Campaign swap

[dustyhyena]

HERE IT IS!!! my piece for @agentshipzine ! it's been a work in progress for such a long time and im vibrating out of my skin now that im able to officially show it off!!!

i thought it'd be fun to do a little side-by-side comic for my agent 3/captain (august) and agent 8 (jay) as they spend their lives together! be sure to zoom in to properly read the comc and all the little details!!!

BIG thank you to tari and rebi for making this possible- this is the second ever zine i've been in and it was such a fun experience. love yall!!!

[mullet--head]

Runt!!!! [I wanna thank @spookeri for letting me use him for this comic lysm bestie]

[goblin-enjoyer]

Ok polls done! Thank you all for participating, i know i couldn't get every character in here but this should help me mental order a few things and get the gears turning and irons in the fire. Now it should be much easier and-

oh. that complicates things a bit. oh well its 3 am, lets get my gears in that fire and turn those irons around! Quick Poll 2! Electric Boogaloo.

second verse same as the first. I'm trying to draw all the "main" homestuck characters with another random character from something else, ran into a mental brick wall, too many options for my 8-ball that i bought for specifically this reason,made a rough poll to help get my brain a rolling, that's where you gits come in, have fun. other arts in my art tag, my descent into madness/denial of various things homestuck has caused me to think about/homestuck specific art in my homestuck tag.

ah crabp have not drawn in a bit, trying to be more consistent so I get less skill falloff (i swear what is this, the high warlord grind? def need this to be patched) can't figure out what homestuck git to draw next (i am trying to draw all the homestuck gits, well most of em at least) and i keep coming up against a wall. (i can't think of which one to do next) so i make quicke poll (at probably too late a time for it to do anything, thus likely getting me nowhere in my stuckness. i mean i have a 8 ball specifically for this kind of thing so if push comes to shove i'll just use that) to make decisions easier and get juices flowing (parentheses)

there we go this should help me get an order and thought on things. thanks in advance to all who help out here and if you are wondering "hey what kinda art this git do?" then just checkout my art tag (or i guess homestuck tag if you want to see my descent to madness lolbk) I have been trying to do all the homestuck "main" characters with random other characters. been fun and useful in learning how to draw humanoids. that and homestuck characters are just fun to draw at times don't even need a parenthesis for that.

[your-unfriendlyghost]

Johnny cade for the "give me a character" thingy cuz I love him :3

How I feel about this character

  I love Johnny, man. Very simple feelings ‘bout him, but yk, I love him. I don’t often…spin him ‘round in my brain like I do with some of the others, but I have a lot of strong opinions abt him and I love him lol

All the people I ship romantically with this character

  I occasionally ship him with Dally, but only occasionally. Idk they’ve got something goin on but idk what lol. I definitely don’t see them as an older brother and little brother, although I get where people are coming from- idk though, that’s like the least interesting take on their whole…deal for me I guess? I (personally) don’t think Dally and Johnny are brotherly/parental at all, and reducing them to that means losing out on the much more interesting (I think) dynamic that they do have- like Dally can’t be vulnerable with anyone BUT Johnny, and Johnny is at his most confident with Dally. And he has power over Dally that no one else does. It could be romantic or platonic for me, but the important thing is that they’re equals imo. I mean c’mon, only one of them’s canonically stabbed a guy to death, and it ain’t Dally. They’re tied together somehow idk man

  I sorta like the idea of Johnny and Sylvia being something tho. I don't think abt it much, but it adds something morally bad to a character that’s supposed to be purely good that I find fascinating. Not the sorta ship I ship per se, but one I like toying with sometimes because there’s so much to unpack there ig. I don’t usually see it as canon but I sometimes like it.

  Finally, I read this GUT WRENCHING fic one time where Johnny was who Sandy cheated on Soda with. I…really liked that fic. The ship hits a lotta the same notes as Johnny/Sylvia but explores Johnny and Soda…idk man again not the sorta thing I usually see as canon but holy shit the fic kinda blew my mind lol. It’s here if y’all wanna check it out- mind the tags and all. It’s a rarepair but it KILLS me man. It ain’t…canon to me, but I think abt it sometimes (the ship and the fic) and just feel things idk. (Part of that is probably b/c I love Soda, but yk)

My non-romantic OTP for this character

  Uhh Dally also honestly

  I mean Johnny and Pony are close too, but I really don’t see them as BEST friends. Ik a lotta people do which is perfectly valid, but in my head they’re…not? I dunno. They’re definitely friends, but TO ME it’s in the way that I’m friends with kids who I’ve grown up with who are like cousins to me now- we’re close, and I know they have my back, and I could tell them anything if I really wanted to, but I probably won’t unless we’re alone together in a church for a week. (@veggiesforpresident just talked abt them earlier today here, and she put it into words a helluva lot better than I am rn- definitely check that out)

My unpopular opinion about this character

He’s tough. I mean everyone knows that, but I’m not massively fond of fics/art that portray him as small and soft. Like sure, Pony sees him that way, but to the rest of the world Johnny is a hood. He may be small, but he can fight. He loves drag races, man!

  Idk, Ralph Macchio put it best in this behind the scenes book I own: 

  “Johnny was always described as the runt of the greaser litter- the one they all protected. However, as the story unfolded he became the most level-headed and clear-minded in the face of adversity. I always recognized that in him even from the first reading of the book at age twelve. I am biased, but he is one of the richest and fully drawn characters in the ensemble.”

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon

  I’m biased b/c I love Soda but I woulda loved to see him hanging with Soda. Really the rest of the gang in general (not that there was time for that lol), but it’s canon to me that Johnny was friends with Soda first. Eventually they diverged and became close to Dally and Steve respectively, but in elementary school it was Johnny and Soda. 

  (On the other side of the coin, I like the idea of Dally and Steve having had a bit of a fling that they don’t talk about as a way of repressing their romantic feelings for Soda and Johnny respectively. But that’s not always canon to me lol.)

[spnangelbang]

A preview of... “Lenny & Bob's Hexcellent Adventure” 

Author: Rakizna @panthera-dei

Artist: @midnightsilver

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Featured characters:��Guthrie, Original Demon Characters, Original Angel Character, Original Hellhound Character

Featured relationships: n/a

Length:  6,187 words

Tags:  Canon-typical Violence, Mild Language, Humor

Summary:  With Crowley missing and Abbadon attempting to steal power, Guthrie is keeping the kingdom together as best he can. The only way to survive is to fight dirty, and that's why he entrusts Bob, Lenny, and Gerald with a crucial mission to save Hell.

The problem?

They're idiots.

Excerpt:

The demons stood around the sheet-draped cage. Bob kicked lightly at the corner of the sheet, only to hear a low, chilling growl. “I don't think I like this plan…”

“Why not?” said Lenny. “Areli can help us track down an angel, just like we said!”

“Or it might decide to use our spleens as chew toys.”

Gerald sighed. “We don't have much choice. All right, Lenny, take off the sheet. Get him ready to go.”

Solemnly, Lenny lifted up the fabric and pulled it back, exposing the front half of the cage as well as the creature pressing itself against the bars.

Bob peered at the cage for a closer look. “Great Odin’s raven, Lenny! That's not a hellhound, that's an oversized rat with delusions of grandeur!”

“I’m inclined to agree with Bob, Lenny. This… dog doesn't look like much. If you can call it a dog at all.”

The supposed hellhound sniffed the air, watching the three demons with curiosity in his eyes. Lenny reached down to stroke his snout. “Areli is too a hellhound, and a good one! He’s just a little… y’know, small for his age.”

Bob scoffed. “Three lame-ass demons and the runt of the litter hunting for an angel. What could go wrong?”

Posting date: February 8, 2025!

[sagesparrow394]

Headcanons for if JRWI characters ended up on the QSMP (aka Just QSMP With it)

Continuation of this post and this post! Other posts about this AU are on my blog under the tag #just qsmp with it

I think Chip is initially resistant to cooperating with the Order and the other islanders’ resistance against the Federation. He’s too concerned with just getting his ship fixed and trying to leave the island, making that his priority over whatever is happening on the island. It’s only once it properly sets in that there is no feasible way of leaving as long as the Federation is in control that he agrees to formally join the Order. He’s the last of the Riptide pirates to do so, Jay joining pretty quickly, and Gillion being recruited by Etoiles after expressing a keen desire to help free everyone.

While Gillion helps Pomme train and teaches her fighting skills, Pomme would absolutely return the favour by teaching Gillion French. I also think it’d be funny if Gill was inexplicably really really good at picking up the language. Bro’s almost fluent after a single month, able to have full conversations with Etoiles in French as the two spar.

Jay and Jaiden definitely become friends. Is this partially because their duo name would be Bluejay and that’s too good to pass up? Maaaybe. But I can see Jaiden initially trying to befriend Jay because hey, another woman, we’ve got three now! Girls gotta stick together! (going off the idea the Riptide crew arrive before the frozen islanders are thawed). And then they just bond further over their shared experiences with loss and grief. Jaiden’s death in Purgatory hits Jay pretty hard.

Runt doesn’t get recruited to the Order, she forces her way in. She tails someone and finds the secret entrance, spies in on a meeting or two, and then confronts Cellbit like “I know you’ve got a whole resistance thing going on, and I want in.” And so, not counting the eggs, she becomes the youngest member of Ordo Theoritas. Her first action after joining is to upgrade the Order’s security systems, making it more Cucurucho-proof.

Blink is recruited by Cellbit to the Order after Cellbit learns of his sheer power of bullshitting his way into places. Blink is specifically tasked with bullshitting his way into the Federation workforce. I mean, so far the only spies in the Federation are Fit (just a janitor), Foolish (playing both sides), and Cellbit (basically just a pawn Cucurucho likes to play with). Luckily, thanks to his powers of bullshitting and the Federation’s fondness for birds, Blink successfully is able to get the position of an A-Rank worker, becoming a vital informant for the Order (rip Blink x The Overseer, Blink x Cucurucho is the new ship /j)

At the end of Purgatory, Troy doesn’t leave Egg Island, choosing to stay behind for his egg Hope. Runt tries to convince him otherwise, but Troy just screams “I CAN’T FUCKING LEAVE HER”, refusing to move. Blink drags Runt away, both heading to the boat without him. Troy ultimately joins Baghera and Cellbit as the killers of Purgatory 2, developing a closer friendship with the two of them and exploding strangers with an extra super duper cool sled provided by the Watcher. Then Hope, Pomme, Richarlyson and Philza arrive on their rescue mission. Troy can’t help but feel a little hurt Runt and Blink don’t come too, but buries those feelings deep down. I mean, what was he expecting from the guys who left him to fight 28 guards alone, right?

[thelingering]

(YES YES IT DOES (/lh)- LOLLL "he's undead usually" is the best quote I've heard this week--)

I love that your pd liveblog tag is explained as "the late great prime defenders" in your pinned loll- I feel like that implies they're dead XD

(They're not :D)

(well except for one)

LOLLLL OH DEAR YOU'RE RIGHT- notttt intended XDD

(Yippee! :D)

(ak i'm afraid /silly)

[kiki-and-carmi]

Deep down.

In a laboratory.

Lies a young boy

in his cellar.

Separated from his Sister

and his DNA mangled.

This is the Story of Runt, and his sister, Ogre.

ASKS ARE OPEN.

๑ About!! (Last updated: October 8th, 4:17pm, central time)

🍡 → This is an ask blog for the characters Kieran and Carmine from the video game Pokemon Scarlet and Violet, specifically taking place in my alternate universe, dubbed Don’t Trust Dr. Fuse.

👺 → This is an art ask blog. All art is mine unless it’s stated otherwise. Effort put into each piece may fluctuate violently. The amount of effort put into answering an ask is not an indicator for how thankful I am for you sending in asks. Every ask is very much appreciated no matter how much the effort put into the art in the answers fluctuates.

🍑 → Runt uses he/him.

🍡 → Mod Mew uses any pronouns and does not use labels.

👺 → Asks are not answered chronologically.

๑ Available for Asks!!

🍑 → As of right now: Runt is available for asks

๑ Rules!!

🍡 → 1. Nsfw asks are NOT ALLOWED.

👺 → 2. No bigotry whatsoever I literally don’t care keep that shit away from me. I’m usually okay with some slurs but not for this ask blog.

🍑 → 3. Be. Nice. Remember there is a real living breathing person behind this account. You can be mean to Runt that’s fine but not to Mod Mew. If you aren’t happy with a response you get it’s not my fault.

🍡 → 4. No asks about politics. The owner of this account is very much radical left if that’s what you call it if you’re curious.

👺 → 5. If you want something tagged then ask.

🍑 → 6. Magic anons will not affect canon!

🍡 → 7. PLEASE SPECIFY WHO YOURE SENDING THE ASK TO IF THERE ARE MULTIPLE CHARACTERS AVAILABLE FOR ASKS.

๑ DNI!

👺 → Pro isreal, antisemites, neo nazis, transphobes, transmeds, truscum, anti-mogai, terfs/swerfs, anti-endogenics, sysmeds, MAPS, homophobes, aphobes, anti contradicting labels. Anti-kink, purists.

[ghostxrose]

𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑨𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 | 𝑩𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒈𝒐 𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒊 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five (final)

Summary ~ Your soul and his were tied together by the hands of the Goddess of Fate. It never mattered where you were or what you were, you would always find each other. Every lifetime destined to fall in love with each other and every lifetime destined to die before you could have everything that you wanted together. With every death you questioned; were you and him really eternal soulmates or were you just star-crossed lovers meant to be laughed at by the Goddess of Fate?

Tags/Warnings ~ Fem!Reader, Reincarnation, Soulmates, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Emotional, Temporary Character Deaths, Depictions of Injuries, Potentially Triggering Content, No Use of Y/N, Hurts So Good (let me know if I should tag anything else <3)

If you tried hard enough, dug deep enough within your mind, you could still remember that very first life where you met him. You and him were brand new souls who had been freshly cast into some version of reality. The Goddess of Fate had just finished tying your soul to his when she sent you both to an Earthly plane to begin your eternal chase for each other.

Your first life hadn’t been easy and it seemed to set the premise for future lives to come. You had been born a wolf with beautiful dark fur and violet-colored eyes with cracks of piercing blue running through them, belonging to a fairly large pack. Unfortunately, and unlike the rest of the pack, you had been born weak. From the very start you were small, the runt of your littermates. Still, your mother cared for and loved you as she did with all of her pups.

As you grew, you tried to keep up with your siblings and the other pups of the pack. You tried to be strong, tried to be a good hunter, and tried to master the skills of your elders. But you lost every play fight with the other pups and you could barely successfully catch small game on your own. In the eyes of the pack, you were useless.

Your pack had been hunting one evening when you all crossed paths with another pack that had also been hunting. Growling, snarling, gnashing teeth, and howling filled the air as aggressive fighting broke out between the two packs. You fought as hard as you could but your weakness was your downfall. Your pack left you there alone and bleeding from multiple bite wounds as the chilly autumn night settled in.

That night when the moon was at its highest, he had found you at the base of a tree where you had dragged yourself. Disturbed by his sniffing and nudging nose, you startled from your slumber and weakly growled at him thinking he was a threat.

He growled back at you before going back to nudging you and licking at your wounds. You didn’t know that he was a lone wolf that had separated from his pack to try to search for his mate. You didn’t know that it was you who was his mate until somewhere in your brain, it just clicked.

You whined in pain when he nudged you a little harder in an effort to get you to stand up. You had barely been able to drag yourself to the spot where you laid, there was no way you could muster up the strength to get back up. There was more blood on the ground around and under you than there was in your body at this point. It was only a matter of time now.

Sensing that you weren't going to be getting up, he keened sadly and laid down next to you. He licked at your face as you absorbed the heat radiating off of his body. Your head rested on top of your front legs and your eyes looked up to meet crimson ones that almost seemed to glow in the moonlight.

Your breaths were coming out as short and shallow pants and your eyelids were becoming heavier with each passing second. Lowering his head to lick your face again, your mate let out a loud and heartbroken whine. A broken keening left you as you reciprocated his heartbreak and your eyes began to slowly shut.

Before your consciousness finally left your body, you heard your mate howl loudly into the night, the sound utterly heartbroken and full of misery.

A Little Author's Note Here ~ Hello Lovelies, my name is Shasta Rose! This is my first time posting one of my fics to Tumblr so please forgive me if this post is rough or un-aesthetic! I am completely open to tips and helpful criticisms if y'all have any! I do hope that you come to enjoy the story and just know that I appreciate you! <3

Divider Credit ~ @archonfurina

[trialbyfire-comic]

Chapter 1: Page 14

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[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot Pt 2

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 4,760

It’s Snoggletog and you’re very, very tired. You’re definitely weird about it. So is Hiccup, but, as you’ve figured, he’s always a little weird.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse

<Previous - Next>

There were a lot of things they didn’t teach you on-screen- a lot of things you had to learn the hard way on Berk.

As it went, the warriors who were deemed the most respectable on the island lived up by the Chief’s -the ones who belonged to the families of the highest repute, who did the best in battle, who were good at keeping vows, who did the best posturing and bartering and who kept to themselves- keep ‘em close and all that.

 That’s what you heard, anyway- it was awfully convenient. All the Dragon Riders lived up by the forge. You weren’t sure why that surprised you, but eventually it kind of made sense. The Riders were the main characters, after all- the cool kids and whatnot. It annoyed you a little bit, though.

Choking down a yawn, you glanced off to the side at a carved extrusion, a norse knot embedded into its face. It  ended just as it ran into what you could only call a large porch rail with an odd-looking ball at the helm of it, a rotund mouth carved into it and two obtuse eyes mounted along one side. 

There was a chip in the wood, a long gash where part of the grain had fallen off, exposing older also-wood. You wondered how long it would take for something to crawl in it- if the burning and treating had sealed it down to the middle or if it would rot, if they would get it fixed before the next big storm, if it even mattered. 

You resisted the urge to shake out your shoulders.

You didn’t spend too much time up there, but, well, today you’d been caught. You wished you hadn’t been, but you had. By one Mrs. Thorston, in fact. 

You hadn’t all asked why she’d needed you specifically to do it, much too tired to care for anything but the call of your bed, all hay and dead grass and sometimes bug, but the busybody had carried on anyways, more than willing to go on- on and on in a way your hazy mind could hardly keep track of. It was almost unbearable. 

Though you did give in and you sighed.

First, to tend to, there was the Jorgenson clan, The Ingermans, and the Hoffersons- Of course, most important of all was the Chief, saddled with his poor runt of a sun, who was too much of a waste to keep from shirking his most important responsibilities -the ones involving caring for his father, of course- and chasing after dragons, another job of his which he’d been lacking at,and boy, what an oxymoron that was. 

She was so sure of how the burden of his son must have weighed heavily down on his father’s already bulky soul, talk of which bringing an odd blotchy puce blush to her thin face, talk of it had tired you out quite easily. If she didn’t take too kindly to you bringing up her husband- well.  

Snotlout was off and the twins were terrible, so they couldn’t do it- and by twins, she meant her daughter. Her son was missing, but he was too much of a gem for the work, anyways, and, of course, since you were there, that must have meant you were free and therefore had freely volunteered, because there were tasks that need doing doing, of course- so, of course, without the time to get a word in edgewise, she’d wrangled you into bringing water -pail by pail- to all of the clan homes, so that they could all have the luxury of hot water for laundering and bathing that night. 

That was a very long-winded way of saying that you’d just been made to bring up said water for said Chief. And his kid. Who was absent.

“What’re you here for?” The Chief asked gruffly, looking very intimidating and large. Very large- and huge.

You still hadn’t figured out how to say his name in Old Norse. Everyone else just said ‘Chief.’ It must have been a respect thing-  Still, you’d asked around and had been left with no real answers, just scandal, all upturned noses and confused, disturbed scowls, slightly turned shoulders and some distance. Which... Well, you couldn’t bring yourself to be hurt by it all, especially not in a place as crowded as Berk.

In the end, you’d decided you’d just wait for someone else to say it first.

“Water,” With shaky, sore arms, you held out a bucket. It was a flimsy one, especially heavy to you, who was a normal person with a normal amount of muscle mass, unlike everyone on this cold, godforsaken island.

You waited a very, very long moment, your arms still straining, soreness traveling up to your shoulders, pulling at your muscles and back, fingers reddening as gravity worked to cut off your circulation as if you’d just finished a trip to the grocer’s, the feeling worse than any plastic bag could ever be.

After the Chief failed to react, you slowly let your arms drop.

Your bucket swang back, the water inside arcing and sloshing, yanking against your very worn arm socket.

You pursing your lips and pointed backwards, your thumb half over your shoulder, aimed towards where you knew was the basin, the one you’d lugged up the hill, which you knew was theirs, pressing a thick indent into the grass by their house pathway because Mrs. Thorston had pointed it out with no small amount of fanfare.

You were supposed to bring it in but you’d left it there, mostly because you weren’t sure if the guy was home and you’d gotten quite the cold feet after poking around the front yard for a bit.

“That was, ah…” said the Chief, who seemed very gruff and confused and rightly so, “Very nice of you.”

You wondered if it was normal for him to be so hesitant and gruff, brows crinkled, eyes slightly bagged, old enough for all his frowns and furrows to be written in lines. If so, It seemed his interpersonal communication skills might have been somewhat lacking. If not, well, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel slighted at all- You didn’t want to be here, either.

Really, you just wanted this whole thing done and over with- you hoped the Chief did too. It hadn’t been much of a task before, but now, well, it took you a great deal to keep all your complaints bottled up inside.  Still, if you spoke, you’d have to say it all at once- you couldn’t bear to wait another moment, not so much because you were restless, moreso because you were sure you’d fall flat to the ground right then and there.

You paused for a moment longer, thinking. Mrs. Thorston- you were sure she’d given you something else, packed you full of words to carry alongside water, and yet you couldn’t quite remember which ones. Surely not all of them? Not the things she’d said about Hiccup, definitely- but then, maybe the ones about her son? Or- no, not her husband, but maybe the Chief?

Words, words- How much to say, how little to give? If giving some was bad, then giving ‘most’ must have been better. It was a dilemma that exhausted you even further. 

“Mrs. Thorston said to tell you she sent me-...” You grumbled. Much too stirred to do much thinking or stopping, you festered something breathy in your chest, rearing, your tongue leashed only just barely by the thought of conscience; a fraying, snapping thread.  “-And that she’s free at sundown, something about her husband being out, which I thought was weird-”

“Alright-” The Chief said, still looking quite grumpy. 

You continued speaking, letting, the words come to you, speaking with more just-rightness than- well, “-She wanted me to put in a good word and I’ve not been paid at all, she just talks too much to get anything else in edgewise and I just got cold feet trying to say no. Honestly, I don’t know, I’m tired and just kind of want to go now.” 

Then you turned around. As you spun, your bucket swung, and you could feel it, though you lived it more through your arm and the shift of your spine a lot more than you felt it in hand. It was almost vertigo- you dropped it quite roughly, easily, the bottom of it landing without clatter onto the surface of one large, wooden step.

You paused.

Like something slowly, slimily creeping up from your belly to your spine, you thought.

You were forgetting something- but no, you’d said all the appropriate words- and then some of your own.

For the moment, you decided to just wait, hands going from the red lines in your palms back to the face of the colossal, wide man way up high in front, seeing-not-seeing. It would come to you.

You waited a moment longer, staring and blinking. Why were you even up here at all? There was a reason, of course.

…

…Ah. You’d lost track of it before, the slightly pointy end of it barely even tapping at your leg past cloth, but-

“Wait!” You declared, turning back, feet shuffling.

The boss was halfway lumbered back into his home, his door nearly half-closed. 

He looked back down at you with a look, something exhaustive- a very strong ‘what now?’ 

“This is for your son,” You held out a crummily wrapped paper package with one arm, which was considerably less shaky now, considering the fact that this parcel was a great deal lighter, “It’s thanks for helping me out earlier, I think. Also, could you ask him to stop staring? And blowing things up. It’s getting kind of creepy. Goodbye.” 

You forced a large, strained smile. There were a handful of expressions that cycled across his face before he’d thought to respond, though now that you’d completed most of all your important tasks, you found you weren’t in the right mind to decipher them.

“...Goodbye.” The Chief said. You took that as permission to leave, arms swinging. Your legs were stiff as they walked, moving as fast as you could force them while keeping an even walking pace.

You left the bucket there.

You needed to get yourself something new- a coat, maybe, or some boots, so you didn’t have to deal with the feeling of cold ice-slush, seeping through your trousers and assaulting your now numb, ice-cold ankles.

Slogging through the snow was annoying, especially when you were living in an era pre-snowpants. Someone was going to have to salt the paths or something because this was getting ridiculous.

Where they were most frequented, in the worst parts, it was all nasty, brown and grainy, full of sheep dirt and human food-garbage- or, at least what you hoped was just human food-garbage. 

You were out of it now, the snow below your feet mostly powdered, untouched and downy and yet you could see the evidence of your previous forway staining your knees. 

You stamped your way down the path, arms full of loose, half-trailing cloth, all beiges, neutral greens and other dull colors, soles occasionally beating against slippery stone surfaces and gravel.

Nearing the end of one hut, where there was enough room to make a path, around the corner, you spied something- green eyes, dusty brown hair, a full, furry coat, a head of yellow-blonde straw hair, two magnificently polished, spiked shoulder pads and- it was Astrid, her back to you, angled just so that you could see the wide slab tray full of Yaknog she carried with both hands.

You grimaced as she turned, moving so you stayed out of her view as if you were attempting to dodge the odd gaze of a vicious dinosaur -a tyrannosaurus rex or a pterodactyl, maybe, green leather and- well, a lot of dragon things- and ran off before anyone but Hiccup could see you.

He had been ready to unload for a while, you were sure.

“I just…”  You watched as a head of dirt-brown hair buried itself into dusty, freckled hands, words spilling out of a mouth that was just out of view, worse than a wooden dam that had just been split down the side. “Toothless hasn’t-…I’m a little worried.”

It had come practically out of nowhere- you’d only just asked how he’d been, though that had been preceded by a good amount of lonesome moping on his part- he hadn’t seen you yet, then, but... With his bagged eyes and frazzled mop, you couldn’t ever be made upset by his… upset.

He looked like he was stressed… To the extreme.

You shrugged ungainly, shoulders bobbing, carving a groove of wet, snowy dirt into the ground with the scuffed toe of your boot as you turned and walked absentmindedly around the side of Hiccup.

You craned your head to a degree that felt nearly unnatural as you looked back, “I dunno, do they usually do this? I mean, I don’t remember seeing a lot of them last Snoggletog, but also I haven’t… been here that long.”

You were kind of confused- or, well, you had been last winter. You had seen a few of them buzzing around but you’d chopped that up to a fault of your own memory and not- well, whatever this was. 

After some minor deliberating, you figured the Red Death probably wouldn’t have been as much of a tyrant if it didn’t make them work through the holiday, if it -she- was considered a tyrant, that was- you weren’t an expert on the draconic mind. And boy, that must have been a bummer- birth and no child leave.

You sighed, arms tensing as a chill threatened to run down the small of your back. 

“Maybe, I mean-  I would be worried too.” You look down at your basket’s wicker borders, all knotted hay and cradled cloth, blinking with the deep desire to be left alone. You half-wondered why trouble always found you when you were doing laundry, “But also, they’re probably off having babies or something.”

“Having babies…?” You looked up just in time to catch the words as they left his mouth, brows furrowed oddly. 

You hoped you hadn’t been too on-the-nose, which was, well, a dying hope; “I mean, yeah. I guess. What else?”

It was as if attempting to breathe while coughing. You felt both an intense pressure in your sternum and an exhale of something that was probably both a yell and a wheeze, though you couldn’t hear it any more than you could feel the stringing of your vocal chords, the tail-end of some force leaving your chest like the exorcism of a demon or some full gust of air.

You felt a stiff, torso covering pain against your chest, which had been paired with quite the vertigo unlike any other you’d felt. It grew as you’d finally been able to draw in breath, feeling the sharp dipping of dull points against your stomach, the lack of land below your feet, feeling deeply the urge to writhe and kick and shout and yet your limbs, stuck immobile, stayed, your bones stuck frozen not unlike the thick feel of intensely vibrating metal, a thick mallet on a human-sized gong

Where had you been?

You remembered the wood of the ramps beneath your feet, the shifting of your weight as you leaned back slightly, mindlessly, cautiously walking, soles occasionally stuttering against slick wood, weary incase you once again fell on your aching ass. The sound of the sea rushing, crackling ice, frigid salt, a cold-burnt nose- You must have been by the stables, then.

Now, you weren’t sure what you were seeing, white mixing with it all. Your vision was both shocked to focused, in fine detail and blurred just the same.

There was something else, the feel of quickly shed dew, roughly pressed into fur, what should have been soft in texture tearing against your skin at the speeds you were going, made all the worse by the frigid chill. There was something beneath the fur, increasingly damp, something solid, flexing, slightly warm. 

You weren’t sure if that was the result of hypothermia setting in, not after so many hours out and about in the morning, rapid gales ripping the heat from your body, making your back feel as if you had just fallen into some violently-jagged-iced waters.

Perhaps in protest, something sharp and knocked into you with startled violence. You tried to resist the nearly impossible urge to struggle and wriggle and fight back- and failed dearly. Like a paper pressed to the flat of a palm, the only thing keeping you anchored to the face of the rock was the force of the wind- it was both an intense force and a finicky one. 

As the wind blasted past your ears, rendering your drums obscenely sore, you had to wonder- was this something that had happened in the show? The movies? Or not at all?

If it was, well, it had probably been too much to hope for that it would have been more comfortable… and that you wouldn’t have been involved. 

You groaned as deep as you could, back rolling over stone. 

It was uneven, something that you registered should be not so nice against the back of your skull, uneven as it was, but the tiredness buzzing against your bottommost lids, the growing fade in the corner of your consciousness- it all made it feel everso tempting.

There were no blankets here, and so you felt a measure too out in the open, bare despite your heavy layering. Still, especially with the light blocked from your eyes past the heavy feel of the meat of your arm, draped over your forehead, it was almost pleasant.

The last few hours had amounted to what was probably the worst ride of your life, spent tangled up in Meatlug’s paws, Hiccup’s leg wedged against your gut the whole time, the two of you shouting directions at each other as you tried to simultaneously hold on and figure out some bare semblance of comfort.

The landing hadn’t been too nice, either, Meatlug figuring to just drop the two of you against hard rock, leaving you unbelievably close to the edge of the cliffs. Also unbelievably close to tumbling to your death in the ocean. At least it was over now.

Unfortunately, there was no way for you to have known that, on Berk, at that exact moment in time, a very large, very meaty Gronkle would burst past, a very skinny, very scrawny Viking on its head, you stolen away with him, swept away to the dragon breeding grounds, shouting and screaming for your life.

“...You were right.” You heard Hiccup say quite openly as you shifted your shoulders, which did little more than adjust the fabric draped over your shoulders, though that was all you needed. 

Hiccup had already gotten to his feet, it seemed, and, by the sounds of it, had begun looking awed-ly around him at all the dragons and their nests, the crowing and churr-ing and caw-ing white noise to your tired ears.

 You turned over onto your side, hoping maybe to catch a few extra minutes of sleep.

The air felt thick and the corners of your eyes were blurry as if you’d just been drawn into-... something.

Hiccup gave you what you could only call a smile as he tried and failed to look… Normal? His brows were oddly cinched, lips pulled back in the most awkward way, teeth bared oddly. 

His elbow rested against the edge of a heavily singed, nearly completely burnt-to-black fence post. Some part of it must have been burning still, small tufts of smoke rising and mixing with the wind just behind his elbow, small bits of wood coming off in flakes and chunks along the side. His pupils were twitching back and forth as if he couldn’t decide whether or not to pay attention to you or figure out what was going on with his elbow, whose sleeve was beginning to darken oddly.

You blinked tiredly, feeling quite limp as you stood watching with loose arms.

You were nearly certain you’d collapsed and were having some sort of fever dream. Quite honestly, you weren’t sure what was real or not anymore. With Snoggletog just around the bend, you’d been pulled left and right, putting things up, herding, mending, working overtime. 

His face dropped and he startled, frantically patting at his sleeves, stumbling backwards until he fell back over the still swaying tail of his dragon, who was still quite violently trying to kill another- it was nearly murder, the way he glared, clearly off kilter, throat undulating and flashing oddly through skin as he shot plasma at the larger beast. It was like watching a drunk try to shoot a duck. 

You shuffled slightly, boots feeling stiff in the snow.

Everything behind him was a little bit on fire. It was  a bit… You rubbed your eyes, with the edge of your sleeve, grasping it in your fist as you brought it up to your face. 

It was as if the dragon raids had returned, except… in the day, and it was merely only two causing most of the ruckus.

“Thanks.” You said, with a slight rasp to your voice, feeling quite confused. 

“Happy to help.” Hiccup gave you a shaky thumbs up from where he lay on the ground before grunting pitifully as Toothless, in his distraction, sat down heavily on his chest.

You tapped your fingers, tracing them against a smooth and slightly pointed shining purple and dotted magenta, hard keratin feeling both dry and dusty.

Below you, the sounds of hundreds of baby dragons crowed and cooed and cawed, jumping and fumbling around the deck of an old wrecked ship, held up by the ends of many topes grasped by a whole entourage of Berk’s dragons.

You pursed your lips together as you resisted the urge to whistle- it’d be quite difficult at this height with the wind forcing back your words and blowning your breath back at you.

The dragon you were riding, a self-important purple Nightmare, flew closely to Hiccup on Hookfang, slowly bobbing up and down through the sky with the beast of its wings, giving way to a feeling similar to that of a carousel, the way it felt to sit mounted on plastic saddle, swaying with the rhythmic bobbing of machinery, colorful lights and jaunty mechanical music.

You also fought the urge to shift, to adjust yourself and risk unbalance- with the way the scale was rubbing against your thicks, you were sure you were starting to get saddle rash, even though you two were going saddleless.

“How come your pen’s empty?” You shouted quite suddenly, sound patchy under gale and air. Immediately after, you regretted your decision. 

You were sure Hiccup probably hadn’t even heard you, but the situation was becoming quite awkward and you found it hard to resist. You needed no extra help to make it that way- that was to say, it was still kind of tense between the two of you. 

After some odd dream or a memory with Hiccup in it, you weren’t quite sure, you’d woke up to quite a similar reality. You were sure he’d assumed you were dead, with the way he’d been shaking your shoulder- and at the moment, you’d rather be, if you were going to be frank. 

You were still quite embarrassed.

Hiccup also hadn’t found Toothless yet, which was a bummer. He’d probably show up later.

“What?” Hiccup shouted back. This was so awkward. You could have been sleeping by now if you hadn’t been dragon kidnapped. Or was it dragon-napped? You weren’t a dragon, but you ‘d been kidnapped by one, though the word didn’t really have the same feel to it, saying it all out loud.

“Yeah, you have that pen near your house?” You tried again, ”I don’t know, I always see it empty. I kind of always keep expecting something to be in there and I don’t know why.”

 You almost regretted not sitting behind Hiccup. He’d offered, earlier, except he’d seemed pretty nervous about it, which made you uncomfortable.

Proceeding a heart grumble, your dragon began to jostle slightly, drifting a tad closer to Hiccup and Hookfang.

Your stomach swooped lightly as it did.

 Maybe it was being considerate- or maybe it was because of the close quarters, the way he had to squeeze between the others to keep ahold of his portion of the boat- it didn’t do much to change your trajectory, anyhow. 

You might have been slightly guilty in that you had positioned your dragon quite the ways away from Hiccup on purpose, your spoken word an accidental given permission to take the room you’d so eagerly sacrificed in the name of sanctity. 

“Oh, Right,” He sighed in a fake way with his mouth closed, looking in the opposite direction, “It’s more of an honor thing, I think. We were always too high up to have any sheep or anything -the higher they are, the easier they’re… Stolen, but- it just felt right to have it, since my Dad’s, uh, Chief.”

He coughed that last bit oddly.

“Huh,” You leaned against your dragon's neck, propping your head up with one elbow as you struggled not to nod off mid-air, “Have you ever thought of starting a garden or something? The space is open now. It would be nice.”

“Uh,  I dunno. Maybe.” He said. You pinched yourself as you two settled back into awkward silence, your shoulders threatening to bob. It wouldn't due to fall off, especially not at this height.

You guessed he hadn’t had the time, or Stoick had forgotten to give it to him earlier, which was a bummer. You’d spent a lot of time on it. Or you hadn’t. You were too tired to think.

“Hiccup,” Stoick scolded gently- or as gently as he could, with a voice as rough as his. He was more urging if not a tad gruff, loud enough to be easily heard over the sound of manly Viking chatter and holiday merry.

He towered above his son, though not in a way that was menacing, the lines of his face not so hard in that moment. The warm feel of lantern and torch light was soft against his skin, the gentle feel of cool shadow rounding his edges. 

“You made this for me?” Hiccup asked, some freckles becoming quite invisible against the growing blotchiness in his face, embarrassed red patches bleeding over skin as he pulled open the little brown paper package, prodding at it with slightly boxy, freckled fingers.

It wasn’t that bad, was it? You let your head fall to the side slightly, still feeling quite drowsy. …Whatever.

You’d made quite the effort, carving out a small box with clumsy fingers and a dull knife.  Inside, you’d included a very sketchy portrait of Hiccup. Portraiture was a big deal here- you’d figured it a little while ago. You were quite proud of your work, and perhaps a tad cocky- you knew it was much better than Bucket's, even if it was a tad cartoony. 

You might have even been brash enough to call it the best, though to be quite frank, the Vikings here weren’t at all artistically talented, so it wasn’t too hard of a position to achieve.

“T-thanks?” Hiccup managed to cough out, stumbling forward by one squeaky foot, shoulders jerking as he received a very hearty, congratulatory slap on the back. 

“Ough,” You grunted as he dropped backwards, landing roughly along the side of a thin bench, one of the many lining the long dining tables in the Great Hall. 

 “Yeah…” You said after a long moment of shuffling and clumsy maneuvering so that your arms lay on top of the nearest table’s surface, dropping your head, “No problem.”

 You turned your head, doing a sort of pathetic roll off the side of the table, laying flat against the bench.

Your cheek pressed deeply against the crux of your elbow, face aimed towards the dark underbelly of shadow under the wooden tabletop, in a way that allowed you to hear the shuffling of the boots of the people around you quite intensely, though your ears were most definitely deaf to that and the loud yelling and cheering of your peers.

You were dead set on taking your very well earned, very long, very nice nap.

[the-black-bulls]

Hey, what do you think of the relationship between Nozel and Leo? Do you have any headcanons? What do you think Nozel views Leo as since he’s his rival/best friend’s little brother he practically watched grow up during visits and such.

Not sure if this is about the ask game, but I find it amusing that I got a general ask for non-black bulls. Not that I mind but I'd recommend searching the characters tags if you want to see more, and better, headcanons for them; you'll be pleasantly surprised at how many amazing blogs that focus on black clover's royals ^^

To answer your ask,

How Nozel views Leopold?

mostly with indifference

has probably wondered 'where did this kid come from?' at least twice a week, cause leopold literally popped in existence out of nowhere one day and nozel has never been so confused

would never admit it but he genuinely thought leopold was fuego's illegitimate son... until he realized, no, such a rowdy, wild existence can only come from mereoleona!

that aside, I imagine he'd get quite envious of fuego's relationship with leo compared to his with nebra or solid or noelle, especially noelle... in fact, leo's existence might be too much of a reminder of his flaws as a brother that nozel ended up actively avoiding him without realizing

(but if he's being perfectly honest to himself, he was delighted to see noelle get along with fuego's little runt of a brother later after they both became magic knights)

Next,

How Leopold views Nozel?

"KICK HIS ASS, ANIUE!"

I think he bit him once, as a baby. It was their first meeting.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Id place the world at your feet

by Plaintea Tim has always been small, the runt of the litter so to speak. So, it’s a little surprising to know that he spends his nights jumping across Gotham’s rooftops. That’s not to say that he’s very good at it. When he comes to school, injured, Jason can’t help himself. The kid is obviously hurting. Besides, sometimes it’s easier to kidnap a baby brother instead of asking your dad for a new one. OR The story of how Tim lost his camera but found a home. He might not have adult supervision but he’s got Janet’s brains and Jack’s money and more audacity than the two of them combined. So maybe following Batman and Robin at night was a bit overkill, but hey, he’s an overachiever. Sometimes, he just can’t help himself. Words: 3873, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Multi Characters: Jason Todd, Tim Drake (DCU), Bruce Wayne Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson Additional Tags: Genius Tim Drake, Tim Drake Has Abandonment Issues, Tim Drake Lacks Self-Preservation Instincts, Protective Batfamily (DCU) via https://ift.tt/G0hqUtS

[skele-bunny]

What would happen if Dew never woke up from his coma? What about Calida? :( Will she be okay? I need to knoww!!

You're terrible. /Aff

On DVD. (CW) Aether/Dewdrop/Mountain

CW - Death, light mention of suicidal thoughts, talk of pregnancy from assault, implications of past abuse (#memories warning tag!)

Tags: Heavy Angst/Heavy Comfort, fluff, Step-Dad Aether, Step-Dad Mountain

Characters: Dewdrop, Aether, Mountain, Calida (Kit), Misc Ghouls.

(Divider by @ wrathofrats ! This is a fluff story I prommy)

The day Dewdrop accepted the proposition, as if he really had a choice, to be the next elemental transition a fate had been sealed. One that he and his mates at the time weren't aware of. One that damned his only kit along with it. Sure, Dewdrop was a runt. But he fought like no other. He fought as he was burned from the inside out. He fought as his body broke in both physical and mind. He fought as tears went down his face and eyes rolled back once it was done.

He knew he had to fight to go back to his newborn kit, just bare of 6 months old. To go back to his mates and pack that loved him and her so very dearly. Zephyr, Aether, and Mountain were nothing but smiling faces in his head as he'd push through screams, the occasional flash of his daughters little hand wrapped around his claw.

So when a knock at the den door came, followed by the news that Dewdrop couldn't fight anymore as Aether held Calida so tightly in his arms—Something in them all broke. Something that could never be fixed. While screams and sobs wracked the three, Aether looked down to see a fourth one had joined, Calida confused just as much as them.

No one knew how to raise a kit, especially now that her mother was gone. Struggling with their own grief and loss, they didn't know how to handle her own loss and care.

There were times Mountain would be in her nursery, holding the sleeping infant while he stifled his sobs and occupied his mind to soothe the kit to avoid the thought of letting his own vines wrap around his airways. He held her so tightly, pushing his nose against her cheek and chest just like he did the day Dewdrop let him hold her for the first time. She smelled and looked just like him... Black bundle of hair on her head, sweet eyes and nose that scrunched with a smile, how her focus would be on the sound of music that they'd play for her.

But within their misery came more anguish in the form of fights. Arguing over Calida's care, frustration, and exhaustion in their eyes. Topics ranging from the other not attempting to help, to even Calida not accepting her bottles. So, so many fights over her. But it was never the kit's fault. Never.

When Ifrit had finally decided to show his face in the sadistic way of trying to pick Calida up from her crib, Aether lost his shit. Shoving the fire ghoul away and standing protectively in front of the pink painted wood.

"Get the fuck away from her." Was all he could manage, fangs bared and snapping his jaw.

"She's my kit."

He scoffed, "Really? There's no claim on her wrist to prove that."

Ifrit and Aether had gotten into each other's face, noses touches and their own growls being passed back and forth. "You know damn well she's mine—"

"Oh, I know. I know all about it. Which proves to me you'll be anything but her father as long as I'm around. As long as Mountain is around. We both fucking know, so unless you want to contest just how you're her father, you're not going anywhere near her."

Ifrit let out another low growl before finally stepping back, smoke escaping his nostrils. "Then she's your fucking problem."

"Gladly, you deadbeat bastard."

That was the last time Ifrit came around after that, dragging Zephyr away in the process. They didn't hold any ill will to their air element packmate, they didn't know what Dewdrop had confessed to Aether and Mountain, all they knew was their bonded mate had severed the pack and chose him. Zephyr would always be welcomed around, no matter the case. Dew loved them, even when Zephyr squealed how they had bonded to the fire ghoul, Dewdrop loved them with everything. So, they did as well.

It was just them three, now. Settled in a much too big den for a much too small family. Aether and Mountain whispering back and forth before agreeing on two things:

Together, they'd raise Calida and claim her as theirs.

Then, they'd do everything in their power keep the last piece of Dewdrop alive.

That they did.

Many nights of trial and error, confiding in Special and Mist for help, figuring out how to take 'shifts' and still manage their daughter, and more importantly snapping their jaws at the clergy higher-ups that became uncomfortably interested in the fire ghoul kit.

But they succeeded. Calida was the best thing in their lives, loving waking up to little hands and teeth over their arms and stomach, the soft babbles and laughter she gave with such rosey cheeks.

When she had turned a year old, Aether had mumbled to himself and wished that Dewdrop could see her birthday. Just that single line reminded him of three DVDs he had burned just a bit after Calida was born. He kept Calida on his lap while the small family had an impromptu movie night, Mountain curled up with them as they watched.

"What are you doing?" The camera was pointed at the floor before raising, Dewdrop's face becoming obvious with a curious look.

"I'm taking a video! You know, memories!" Aether came from behind the phone, laughing. "I read in this baby and me article about this mom who made videos for her son and gave them to him when he turned an adult."

Dew's face softened. "Aww! Okay, okay, fine... What should I do?"

"I'd say just talk to older Calida! Tell her your thoughts, all that jazz."

His gentle laughter followed, the camera following Dew as he placed his newborn on the changing table—then moving to only focus on Dew's head. "Okay, well... Calida, sweetheart, I don't know what you've been eating besides my milk, but you are the stinkiest child I have ever come across. And that's already a low number as is!"

"Oh don't be mean! She's just a baby!"

"I'm not! I'm making sure her future partners know to not give this girl spicy foods because I don't even dare to imagine that smell!"

Aether laughed again. "What a terrible first video." He teased.

"How are you going to show her these?"

"Probably just burn them on a CD. Delta showed me how."

The camera went back into focus on the two as Dewdrop held up his daughter, the water ghoul making plane noises as he carefully swayed her to the camera lense to show off her face. The video ended, and the next one started.

The two ghouls had started both laughing and crying, Calida snuggled between both of them as she silently watched, chewing her hand. They went through hundreds upon hundreds of videos on all three CDs, Calida falling asleep just a bit into the second. For a moment, everything felt okay as they heard Dewdrop's voice, seeing his face, and that beautiful smile they missed with everything in their hearts.

"We have to save these..." Aether mumbled as the final video ended, pausing on Dewdrop's sleeping face as Calida was drooling on his chest.

Through the years, Calida would watch the CDs with her fathers, little tail wagging as when she'd get older she'd sit right in front of the TV.

"Okay, if you could say anything to Calida, what would you?" Mountain asked, in the frame as Dew was pressed to his chest, Aether again behind the phone.

"I'd tell her thatt..." Dew hummed, thinking for a second. "I'd tell her that she's the most loved little girl in the world. That she has her mom and three others that would tear apart the planet for her if she so asked, and that she's also spoiled rotten from her Grandpa Terzo." He giggled. "What about you?"

Mountain answered quickly. "I'd let her know that she is, in fact, spoiled. Have you seen that girls closet? She has more toys and clothes to last her over a decade."

"You're so dramatic!"

"But! I'd also tell her how lucky she is to have a mom like you."

Dewdrop let out a small 'aww', leaning back to let Mountain press his lips close with a smile. Aether turned the camera to himself.

"Why you two are sucking each other's faces off—Calida, you are the prettiest thing I've ever seen. You have so much ahead of you, and I'm honored that I'll get to be a part of your world while you grow up. You're so loved and cared for, and I know I speak for all of us on that."

The water ghoul whined off-screen, a pillow being thrown at Aether in frame. "Just have to out-do us every time, don't you!" He teased.

Even as Calida grew, the new pack once more, and a new Papa had taken over with things changing—The DVDs never did. It never altered, never left. When the day Calida came of age arrived, Mountain and Aether had excused the small family from the common room, being waved off by the others, to sit in the Earth's room.

"There's something me and your father want to show you." Aether smiled, letting Mountain lay down as Calida instinctively laid in his arms.

She had watched with curiosity as a CD labeled 'Big Girl Birthday' was pulled out and slid into the DVD player Mountain had in his room. He double checked the player before quickly joining on the bed, snuggling their daughter together.

The camera was shaky, silent curses being thrown before the phone was propped up to show just Dewdrop in his room. He looked at the screen before smiling as the phone indicated it was recording.

"Hi, Calida! It's me, your mom." Dew exhaled. "It's currently... 3 a.m., and you're a little fussy from gas but I just got you calm and to bed. Uhm... I wanted to make a video by myself, for you. I'm not as good as Aether and Mountain but, hopefully I get it done right!"

He pulled over a piece of paper. "I thought really hard on what I wanted to say, what I wanted to tell you... I'm still going to be scrambled but—Hopefully this helps."

"Calida, you were born November 3rd of 2017, and ever since then you've made my life perfect. I won't lie to you, you came from a very dark place. But from that dark place, you lit everything up, and that is not a fire pun—Haha... You've given me so many new reasons to live, to love, and find happiness in my life. When I first held you while in the back of the tour bus I hope you'll get to experience, I remember just looking at your chubby face, and although you were covered in blood and so many other things, I knew right then and there that you were love embodied."

"I was so scared of what the future held for us. I was a runt back in the pit, I never expected myself to have a child, and I didn't know how to raise one. We went through so much together, and we still are, with the promise of more in the future. But I knew everything would be okay as long as I had you. That no matter what obstacle, we'd manage to get through."

The lamp on Dewdrop's desk reflected enough to show tears slowly misting his eyes. "Right now, you're the apple of quite a few peoples eyes. There's your Uncle Aether, and Mountain, Auntle Zephyr, Auntle Phil, and Grandpa Terzo... Then me. We love you all so, so much. We all can't wait to watch you grow and see who you become, especially me. I've been fantasizing about when you're older. Getting to show you how to swim, showing you how to play guitar, your first birthday, and everything beautiful this world has to offer for my equally beautiful daughter."

Dew chewed his lip before putting the paper down, wiping his eyes and regaining himself the best he could. It took him a moment before looking at the paper again. "Sorry. Ahem, so that's why I decided to start a little jar. A savings jar, to be specific, so I can buy you your first guitar. I spent hours thinking of when it would be the proper age to get you one, but I'm sure through all the years you'll have plenty to practice with but—permanently own? That's why I decided to give both this video and jar on your eighteenth. You've grown up so much, and I'm happy to know I get to see your face when you watch this and realize."

"I love you, Calida. That will never change. Even if somehow, we're separated, I will always be right there with you. Cheering you on, loving you every second of the day and night, and staying right by your side. Lilith only knows the day I'll have to make a video when you get courted for marriage! Haha, but, yeah... Happy birthday, my sweet girl."

The screen paused on Dewdrop reaching forwards to end the video, and sobs weren't unheard from the small family. Calida leaned towards Aether, being hugged tight from both sides, her shoulders bouncing with each heavy cry. Mountain kissed the side of her head, eyes squeezed shut as he laid his chin between her horns.

Choking on his words, Mountain spoke up. "We never stopped saving for him."

It gave Aether a moment to hug Calida again before slowly slinking away, opening the closet and reaching far into the back. He pulled out a flower vase that had 'Calida's First Guitar Fund!' written in Dewdrop's handwriting. He handed it over carefully, letting his daughter hug it tightly.

Her voice was so soft, looking up with wet eyes. "Can we go see mom...?"

With a few more minutes of hugs and replacing pajamas, the trio found themselves walking outside near the lake to a crevice that now had a headstone next to the entrance of an underwater cave.

Calida kneeled down, hand touching over her mother's name, smiling somewhat. "Hi mom... I got to watch my birthday video today."

Aether and Mountain stood back, hands held tightly as they continued to silently cry.

"Thank you for the birthday gift," She leaned down, kissing the cold stone. "Gonna play every day for you. I promise. I know you're going to tease every mess up I do, but hey! That's part of it, isn't it?"

She continued talking to the grave, Aether and Mountain eventually joining her and sitting peacefully while they rambled about what guitar options there was to choose from, and what they did for her birthday—all to an unseen ghost who couldn't drop his smile.