#new verse bby

[mundmutter]

FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST

FULL NAME: ‘Qistina’ / Christina Quina Leota NICKNAME: Qissy, Belladonna VOICE: Sayako Ohara ( Beatrice of Umineko or Milly Ashford of Code Geass ) / Susan Egan AGE: 30 BIRTH DATE: October 31st, 1887 ETHNICITY: Amestrian, Ishvalan GENDER: Cisfemale ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual MBTI:  INTJ-A

SPOKEN LANGUAGE: Amestrian, Ishvalan CURRENT LIVING CONDITIONS: Pleasant. She has her own home provided for her by the state. OCCUPATION: Brigadier General, State Alchemist ( Belladonna )  / Philosopher

RELATIONSHIPS

PARENTS: Brigadier General Harrison Leota / Mary Ellen SIBLINGS: Edward James ( 36 -deceased- ), Agatha Ann ( 25 ), Thomas John ( 23 ) SIGNIFICANT OTHER: Atlas Hawthorne ( Eventual Husband/ Main Verse Love Interest ) verse dependant CHILDREN: NINA - Adoptive PETS: Sol and Luna, canaries. Poe, Raven. Chaffee, chimera.

PHYSICAL TRAITS

EYE COLOUR: dark red HAIR COLOUR: Silver white HEIGHT: 5'8 BODY BUILD: Curvy NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: Her red eyes and long, silver hair. transmutation arrays on her palms. Scarring that wrap around her wrists like a bracelet. 

INTERESTS

-  Aside from Alchemy, she enjoys listening to the Opera. - She is an avid fan of birds. - Along with being a philosopher, she dabbles in poetry. - She has three absolute favorite books: Frankenstein, Hunchback of Notre Dame, and The Book of Lies.

INFO INTELLIGENCE: Extremely High. LIKES: The opera, Performing alchemy, birds, singing, poetry. DISLIKES: laziness, hypocrisy DISPOSITION: She stays quiet, but opinionated. Determined. Unwavering, highly stubborn.vice: lust / greed / gluttony / sloth / PRIDE / envy / wrath virtue: chastity / TEMPERANCE / charity / diligence / forgiveness / humility / kindness alignment: lawful / NEUTRAL / chaotic || good / neutral / EVIL

 BIOGRAPHY..  

   Miss Qistina Quiana Leota was born in early winter, in the year 1887, and worked in the coal mines as a child. She worked hard for her family, and endured many physical hardships - Moved from her parents home to a large home in the city. She works under the State as the Alchemist Belladonna, more often from the large basement where no one can peek in.

      Qistina had always expressed a passion for alchemy, and thus joined the military. She went on to join the side of the Homunculi, though she has no interest in the promise of immortality, but is rather doing it because she was given such a large amount of material for her own research - to recreate and reconstruct working organs through organic materials. 

Her history is simple, and straightforward. She began to work in the coal mines at the age of four, along with her father and several others ( including a few women, mostly men, and other people ranging from the ages of 45 to 4 ). Qistina longed to sing and learn the Opera, and would often attempt to sing with birds while on lunch breaks and playing outside with the other children. She begins a fondness for birds, especially the yellow canaries brought in by miners. Though, once she spots her brother with alchemy books, her passion switches up on her and she is very often consumed by it.

SHE HAD THREE SIBLINGS. EDWARD, AGATHA, AND THOMAS. BOTH AGATHA AND THOMAS REMAIN IN YOUSWELL, WHILE EDWARD JOINS THE MILITARY ONLY TO RETIRE AS ORDER 3066 IS INTRODUCED AND MURDERED A FEW YEARS LATER.

The age of 16 rolls to the top of the hill, and she leaves home. Not apologizing, but expressing the regret that she could not leave sooner. She and her father still keep in contact, but her mother seems to want nothing to do with her. As of right now, for the past ten years, she has been living a happy life in Central City.

Her goals revolve around Alchemy. The life she was forced into before had consequences. She developed a lung disease known as Black Lung, similar to the long term effects of tobacco smoking, and is similar to both silicosis from inhaling silica dust. Medically, it would be called a Coal workers' pneumoconiosis (CWP). It is caused by long exposure to coal dust. It is a common disease in coal miners and others who work with coal.

Qistina has dedicated her life to alchemy, studying to one day replace the parts of her body that have been slowing her down, killing her. Because of her skills, she has since been working under Father. She has become quite obsessed with alchemy and very often views others under the view of a microscope.         

Qistina was emotionally, mentally, and physically abused by her mother for her love in Alchemy. Not only this, but she was ostracized by fellow Ishvalans, so she grew far far away from their religion, even began to hate her ancestry and never held any sort of care or love for them.

LEOTA MILITARY HISTORY

Throughout her family history, the Leota's have spawned generations of soldiers. From privates to top ranking generals. The majority have fought in wars, and the majority have thus far died while serving both on and off the field. Currently, there are a total of 23 members of her family who are living and in service, while 4 are veterans and living peacefully in the countryside. She personally knows 4 out of her 23 relatives who are in service.

SECOND LIEUTENANT WILLIAM LEOTA,  SECOND COUSIN SERGEANT WARREN LEOTA GREAT AUNT MAJOR MARGARET LEOTA MASTER SERGEANT THOMAS LEOTA GENERAL WILHELM LEOTA, lost his leg. MAJOR GENERAL BLANCHE ACKERMAN, went into retirement at 55 after Ishval and is currently enjoying life with her grandchildren.

Her father, HARRISON, retired at 47 after serving before Ishval. suffers with ptsd.

And finally her grandfather GENERAL FORD LEOTA, has been wheelchair bound since Harrison was a private in the army. He never served in Ishval, and is Ishvalan himself - with stark white hair and dark eyes.

Note the majority of her family does not live in Youswell.

[narcissus-dot-png]

Your honor, they're girlfriends AND mad scientists >:]

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

Pokémon Horizons Episode 26 spoilers under the cut!

OH SO WE WEREN'T BEING JUST DELUSIONAL,,,,,, THEY'RE DOING IT,,,,,,,,,,,, THEY'RE ACTUALLY DOING IT,,,, , ,

[unexceptional-broken]

               “WHY ARE YOU being so weird?” She nudged him gently in the ribs while she whispered to Dom, sitting comfortably squished between him and the divider on the subway bench between the seat and the door. “Stop it with your face. You’re gonna survive.” 

                                        ( @xkingpin​ ) « didn’t ask for this

[elencr]

´ ･ .  ✶ ━━      “  juliette  ...  ”  came the whispered call.  elenore was once again up later than she probably should have been.  but she couldn’t sleep.  she wondered if it was because the villa was way too silent.  there was no hum of an engine  ,  or the soft murmur of voices coming from another room. 

                           elenore white had grown up in the middle of space  -  spending so much time on earth  ,  was causing her insomnia to grow.  standing just inside of juliette’s room  ,  ellie knew she probably shouldn’t wake her sister up  -  but she couldn’t sleep.  “  juliette  ...  ”  she whispered again  ,  this time stepping closer to the older girls bed.  “  i  -  i can’t sleep.  ”

╰   ––––––– ✧   @moonshadowed​      :      liked      ❨        for a starter         ❩˙

[tymptir]

prompt. / @pulchramsolis says ❝ most of my years have been spent living in terror. ❞

" A SMALL WONDER IT IS, SWEET CHILD. the world is a terrible place, after all. " Varys' voice is a gentle sing-song, soft as silk and just as soothing, while he reaches out to clasp the young girl's hand in his own powdered ones. what lingers on his face is not quite pity, but rather a sort of understanding. the face of a friend, empathetic and kind and all too willing to listen to what ails her so he may help. the Spider has no doubt she has already heard rumors about him - the elusive Master of Whisperers, who may either be one's grandest ally or biggest foe. he means to be the former for her . . . always a companion, always trustworthy. until he isn't anymore.

" and to think that you have grown up in one of its most unforgiving places. I shall not lie to you, my lady, King's Landing has dangers of its own, and plenty of them, but I do hope sincerely that old ghosts will not haunt you here anymore. " he indeed is strangely sincere, and so is the kindness in his eyes. her home has been taken over by Lannister men, now to be used in whatever way pleases Lord Tywin, and she perhaps ought to be grateful not to fall witness to any of it. instead, she finds herself in the lush gardens of the Red Keep ; the overpowering sweet scent of flowers hopefully luring her into a faux sense of safety. Varys smiles at the young girl. " you will learn in time who to trust, so long as you tread carefully in the beginning. my door at least shall always be open to you. "

[theothervonkarmagirl]

"That's Leo. The little one."

Maria gestured to a painting of a young boy shaking hands with a man, a beautiful chess set between them. The man was smiling, but the boy looked rather unimpressed with the whole thing.

"He beat the reigning chess champion of the world when he was only nine. Isn't that incredible?"

[mandomaterial]

I LOVE your Miguel x Reader fic so much! Can we please get another Miguel x Reader where they are complete opposites again, but she isn't use to seeing a scary/violent Miguel. So when she finally sees him like that she gets a little scared and Miguel has to reassure his little angel that he would never behave this way with her. Fluff please because i love your fluff fics!

OFC BBY! I changed it a little so that reader didn’t only see it but also experience it, yk? U’ll see :3 I hope you like it pookie!

Miguel scaring and accidentally hurting you

Like this? Check out my Masterlist

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You were on your way to visit your boyfriend of a few months at work, with a little Tupperware box of fresh cookies in hand, you knew that he was Spider-Man and you knew all about the spider-verse. You also knew that Miguel worked very hard to keep the society intact and that it put an immense strain on his mood and health.

He’d come home all grumpy and annoyed, just wanting to cuddle you to death, he wouldn’t even let you get up to make him some food or treats, so today you decided to bring him something to cheer him up. You’d made a variety of cookies, some frosted and others shaped like animals and stars, to some people it might seem like something from a kids birthday party where a trottle ran off with the sprinkles and went crazy with them but it was just how you liked to bake. You knew that some people thought you were weird for dressing in bright colours and having fun hairstyles, sometimes older people would whisper when you walked past them but you didn’t mind, to you the worst possible thing would be being called normal or plain. You didn’t let anyone stop you from buying or making the clothes you thought were cute and today you decided to show off the new skirt you made. You spent all of last week sitting at your desk with your sticker covered sewing machine, securing the fabric and hemming the edges.

It was truly adorable and you loved how it framed your butt and thighs! You matched it with the off white cashmere sweater that Miguel gifted you after only two moths of dating. He knew that you liked cute things so he had little bows added to the sleeves and it warmed your heart every time you thought of his attentiveness. You packed the cookies into a little shoulder bag and set off.

It didn’t take long for you to get to the main office and there you almost crashed into Jessica who you always enjoyed having a little chat with, you always asked how her baby was and if everything was going as planned at HQ, but today she decided to give you a little warning, Miguel had been a little agitated and stressed today, because Gwen got stuck in a mess and brought back a Teenage boy who was never supposed to know about the Spider-verse and how said boy was causing a bit of trouble. You thought nothing much of it and continued looking for him.

Your first stop was his main office, to be honest it looked like the bat cave, with a floating platform that was his favourite. It always made you giggle when you compared Miguel to batman, but he wasn’t there, so you decided to just walk around and see if you’d find him, when you suddenly heard a loud bang. Instinctively you whipped around, running to a large window and what you saw shook you to your core.

It was thousands of spider people chasing after what seemed to be a small figure in a black suit, it was a sight that you’d never seen before, was everything alright? Was that an anomaly? Why were so many chasing it? Millions of thoughts rushed through your head as you sprinted down the stairs to the ground floor to get a better look, but everything was moving so fast that you lost sight of them as that disappeared behind another building.

You rushed through the halls, trying to catch up with them and somehow you ended up in the room with the go-home machine, all while everyone was surrounding Miguel and the young boy who was in the midst of being “sent home” and Miguel had his talons dug into the electric walls of the capsule, almost tearing it apart while growling and yelling. You’d never seen him like this, as if he were a feral creature hunting its prey with cruel intent. Your body started shaking a little as you took a small step back, maybe this was a really bad time. In that moment the capsule fully closed itself, sending the teen home and leaving Miguel seething with rage, ready to demolish anything he got his hands on, when he suddenly noticed his wach showing signs of an anomaly or something that wasn’t supposed to be at headquarters standing only a couple meters behind him.

Without a second thought and with pure rage and will for distraction Miguel lunges backward, his vision blurry with fury as he sunk his claws into the floor, propelling himself closer and closer to his new victim. All the while you didn’t even have time to think, fear filled every fiber of your already tensed body, he made the decision in split-seconds, not even realizing that it was you, his partner, as he rushed closer to you. You started stumbling back, screaming his name, but nothing helped clear his mind. Miguel stretched out his right arm, talons out as far as they could go, ready to tear you to shreds.

His usually gentle fingers wrapped themselves tightly around your neck, nicking you and squeezing tight, you felt him almost crush your throat but that wasn’t the end of it. Miguel flexed his arm, lifting you up into the air and just as he was about slam you down with all his force, he had a moment of clarity, his heat almost stopped as he recognized your face, albeit it was contorted in ear and pain. He noticed how tight his grip on your neck was and how you were scratching at his hand for a single breath, as he cut off your air way. His eyes widernd, fear and regret washing over him. Instead of glamming you to the ground, he quickly let go of your neck and pressed you to his chest. He felt your tears wet his suit and he heard you cries. Your cries were pain filled and your voice hoarse as he tried to comfort you by rocking you back and forth gently. He knew that it was his fault. What had he done? What if you never wanted to see him again?

He did something he swore to never let happen. He hurt you. He made you fear him. Miguel commanded everyone to leave, so that the two of you could calm down and as soon as it was only the two of you, he collapsed to his knees. It was like your tears were never ending and your fingers weakly grabbed onto him, barely able to hold on as you hid your face in his chest.

“I’m sorry…” Miguel whispered, his voice cracking as he continued muttering “I’m so sorry.. please forgive me.. I didn’t mean t-to…” he whimpered, but it was like you didn’t hear it, way too caught up in the scenario that played out just minutes ago. Your heart was going a mile a minute and you were hyperventilating, not being able to calm your breathing. Minutes passed and Miguel was still rocking back and forth, as if comforting a crying child, the horrid scenes kept replaying in his mind and he didn’t know how to make it better.

Your cries slowly turned to whines and hiccups, you moved around in his lap, trying to find a comfortable position when he gently lifted your chin to look him in the eyes, he opened his mouth but said nothing for a few seconds until he finally whimpered “I love you, you know that, right?” He pulled you into a close hug, not even waiting for your response, he squeezed you as close to him as he could, his anger long gone. “P-please don’t leave me…” he continued, he sounded utterly broken and that only made you shed more tears, you didn’t want to be sad, you didn’t want him to be sad, this was just a stupid accident right? He didn’t mean it…

You nodded a little and tried to speak, but nothing audible came out, only whimpers and whines. Miguel pulled the two of you apart, gently placing his large hand onto the crown of your head, carefully lacing his fingers between your hair as he looked at your little form that was dwarfed by his own. “It was and accident… please forgive me…” he muttered as his eyebrows scrunched together in regret. You replied with a little nod, your lower lip still wobbling a little. Miguel caressed your hair a bit before moving lower to your neck, he pushed your hair back and revealed a couple red scratches going almost all the way around. He felt so ashamed that he’d hurt you, that he was the cause of your pain. Ge gently brushed his fingers over them and you let oust a little wince. He’d take you to the med bay right after this, he promised.

Only then did he notice what you were wearing, first he looked at the sweater. It was the one he had custom made for you, when he saw it in the store window he thought about how’d you look like a fluffy baby alpaca in it and he just had to get it for you. He touched the soft fabrics and slid his grand down your arm, intertwining his fingers with your slender ones. Next he noticed the skirt, ha hadn’t seen it in your closet or anywhere else?. Did you buy it? No it fits too well for that… you probably made it. He couldn’t help but let a soft smile cross his face. The room was almost silent so he tries to shift your attention to a different topic “Did you make this?” He gently rubbed the b fabric between two of his fingers.

You looked around quite confused for a moment until you found what he was talking about, you rubbed your eyes a little and gave him another nod “y-yea, i finished yesterday.” Your voice was barely audible and littered with hiccups.

“It’s cute” he replied, placing his hands on your hips and shifting your body so that you were sitting sideways on his lap with your head leaning on his pec. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled closer, almost purring. You liked sitting like this, on his lap and utterly surrounded by him, it made you feel small and soft, like a precious delicate possession of his.

You could feel how worried he was, it washed off him like waves and you wanted to make him feel better, so you cupped his jaw and whispered “I’m okay Miguel, you didn’t hurt me” as soon as he heard, you could almost physically hear the stones dropping from his heart and his spirit lifting. The two of you were definitely feeling better but there was still a bit left to talk about, so Miguel decided that it was time to leave. He rose to his feet but kept you in his arms, you rolled over a little and decided to play with his hair as he walked out of the now silent room. Your fingers wrapped themselves around the little short curls at the back of his neck, it was one of your favourite parts of his hair because it was so much more curly than the longer pieces.

Miguel felt your little fingers and could stop the lopsided smile that formed on his face, sure he still had work to do, but to be honest, for once in his life, he didn’t care. He’d do it tomorrow and surely get an ear full from Jessica.

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Once Miguel stepped through the doorway a long sigh left his chapped lips, he still felt quite bad about what happened today, but he knew that you’d forgiven him and that you weren’t upset. You fell asleep in the car, so he decided to be the good boyfriend he was and carry you up to his penthouse. You often slept over at his place because you liked the big windows and loved his comfy king sized bed. Normally you fell asleep earlier than him and once he got to bed, he’d find you in your cute pink jammies, laying starfish with one of your legs over the blanket and the pillows long thrown off the sides. He couldn’t help but snap a little picture, you were just too adorable.

So now he careful layer you down on the side you preferred to sleep on. He took off your socks and reached under your shirt to unclasp your bra and pull it off you so you wouldn’t wake up in pain, before covering you with his blanket. Once you were tucked in, he strode over to one of his cupboards in the bathroom and pulled out one of the first aid kits (he has multiple stocked) and pulled out a salve. He rummaged around further until he found your favourite bandaids, the ones with the cute shapes on them and walked back to his bedroom.

You were sleeping soundly as he sat down right next to you, careful not to dip the mattress too much, he gently stroked your hair back so that he could tend to the little wounds on your neck. Guilt shot through him again once they were revealed, t be honest they weren’t even that bad, but he knew how sensitive to violence you were and he knew that the scare was probably worse than the pain. Nevertheless he dipped his fingers in the salve and started softly rubbing it over the red marks and covered them with the bandaids after. After a few minutes he was satisfied and snuggled up to you, making you the little spoon, he wrapped his arms around your wast to pull you close. And just like that, all cuddled up, the two of you fell asleep, meeting again in your dreams.

[donttouchmeimsleeping]

The thing about Star Wars Narrative

"The Jedi ... the Sith ... you don't get it, do you? To the galaxy, they are the same thing. Just men and women with too much power. Squabbling over religion. While the rest of us burn." - Atton Rand

Atton was a pilot back during the Old Sith Wars, around 3980 BBY. He was less loyal to any one cause as he was loyal to the people he served with. He would serve for the Republic until Revan became a Sith and he would follow by defecting to the other side.

What I like about Atton is that he wasn't a Jedi and wasn't a Sith, but he was force-sensitive. He was, in the beginning of his character development, an outsiders perspective. Although he wasn't discovered to be one until he was well into his adult years by a captured Jedi who was going to be tortured into a loyal Sith. So he booked it out of the prison he was serving at under Darth Revan, because he knows what they do to Jedi, to any force-sensitives. Afterall, he was trained to be a Jedi Hunter to turn Jedi into Sith. He was well versed in how this process went.

Yet because he was neither, he got caught in the middle of the cross fire between the Jedi and Sith. He would eventually be trained into a Lost Jedi, which were basically Jedi that went underground during the Great Jedi purge, and part take in forming the foundation of a new Jedi Order. Which would survive and endure the Sith Wars, and all the way until the events of the Skywalker saga where the fate of the galaxy would hang in the balance because of yet another war.

But this time, light does not prevail in this war. A war hidden in another war. A war between the Jedi and Sith, just as much as it's between the Republic and the Separatists.

Is this not what happened in these movies? Because even though there is a war going on, the war the really matters is always between the Jedi and the Sith.

"To the galaxy, they are the same thing." People (in-universe) could not tell the difference between Jedi and Sith, because they both look the same. They both wear robes, both are too calm in dangerous situations, both carry dangerous plasma glow-sticks of different colors. The only ones that know the difference are the ones the have personal experience with one or the other. Or even both on the off chance.

"Just men and women with too much power. Squabbling over religion." Because from an outside perspective, like Atton or even us, that's what is looks like without context. Both sides have literally the same abilities just different attitudes at using them, and that where most people turn a blind eye. Because they don't believe these different attitudes mean anything in the face of the power they harness.

(Yet as an audience, with more information as a given, we should know the difference.)

"While the rest of us burn." But, by this point, everyone knows that Skywalker was so self absorbed that he crippled the galaxy by letting it be ruled by a Sith Emperor with a corrupt empire while also being a compliant right hand to said empire. Basically, in the war between light and dark, the rest of the galaxy is just collateral during and after the battle.

This has been the case in "Revenge of the Sith" and in "The Return of the Jedi" and even in the Old Sith Wars.

My point is, the Star Wars narrative has always been about three things: the Jedi; the Sith; and the Galaxy. The Galaxy depends on the Jedi prevailing, the Sith depend on the Galaxy rejecting the Jedi, and the Jedi do what needs to be done.

That is the narrative of Star Wars.

[third-generation-female-warrior]

(Click for better quality!)

Omega's Rebel Era (ft. the Ghost crew)!

More info below!

On the left, 1 BBY: Omega "greeting the new recruit". She bullies Kallus! She 100% accepts him (she has experience with Imperial defectors), but not without giving him a hard time.

On the right, 6 BBY: Hera introducing her long-time friend to Sabine. Sabine, baby gay, immediately sighting an elder gay. It just becomes that one scene in Across the Spider-Verse where it's:

Hera: Sabine! Meet my queer Mandalorian best friend who I've conveniently never mentioned before!

Sabine, immediately: Tion kir'mani? (Will you adopt me?)

Omega: What?

Sabine: What?

[astreetcarnamedwynn]

atsushi is tired, y’all

The top 10 bitch, wtf expressions from one Atsushi Nakajima in season one of Bungou Stray Dogs. Or, to badly paraphrase Dazai, gifted people are batshit banana balls, and Atsushi learns this the hard way. 

Screenshots from BungoStrayShots

01. This gem from the first few minutes of the very first episode of season one:

On the left: Atsushi- a broke, starving orphan desperate for food, for money, for a home, for something to help keep him alive. On the right: The batshit banana balls man that he saved from drowning in the river who just cursed the fact that he was still alive.

02. The beginning of a trend:

The man who saved you from starvation, who gave you a home, new clothes, and (though you don’t know it yet) a purpose, has his skinny ass stuck in a gotdamned barrel.

03. This beauty from episode five, or Dazai and the river, part two:

We know much of Dazai’s particular brand of flamboyant chaos is an elaborate ruse to distract people from whatever overly clever plan he’s enacting at the moment. Atsushi, on the other hand, is just tired.

04 and 05. Double the banana balls mentors, double the wtf:

Eventually, these two teach him a valuable lesson about effective partnerships, but not before Dazai shoves Kunikida to and then past the brink of his sanity.

06. In which Atsushi speaks for all of us regarding Tanizaki and Naomi:

Poor bby. He has seen things he can’t unsee.

07.  This gem from episode eight: 

Atsushi’s wtf expands to the entire agency, who abandon him to Yosano’s sadistic shopping adventures.

08. Different verse, same as the first:

Dazai is SCHEMES. Atsushi is UNIMPRESSED.

09. In which the wtf expands to the Port Mafia:

Featuring the first, and certainly not the last, bitch wtf face cast by Atsushi at his current nemesis, future partner, and forever thematic parallel Akutagawa as Akutagawa drags him ankle first out of a shipping container after stabbing and then kidnapping him.

10. And my absolute favorite bitch, wtf face from Atsushi in season one:

The target of his ire once again: Dazai. No rivers, this time. Just witnessing Dazai flirting in the midst of a serious kidnapping investigation. This shot is EVERYTHING. Look at Dazai’s little fingers, just typing away in chaotic gremlin bliss, while his newest apprentice is experiencing REGRET on a cellular level.

[jackdaniel69nice]

Mentioned before I’m not into MHA as a fandom so I’m not super versed in the lore; apologies if this is a stupid question 😅

I was wondering—do you think Fumikage was born with Dark Shadow or did he manifest at around 5 years old like most quirks? Like obviously Fumikage was born with…a bird head…which is presumably part of his quirk…but I’m not sure if that means he was born with Dark Shadow too.

Either way would be interesting tbh. In my mind Fumikage started hearing a voice in his head before Dark Shadow actually physically appeared, which probably freaked out the adults around him…

But also newborn Dark Shadow? Is actually a really cute idea? 😭 I guess he’d learn to talk and everything along with Fumikage. You were looking for drawing prompts; how about bby Fumi and Dark Shadow?

Idk just some thoughts. I don’t know why I never put too much thought into these two before my dash was full with you talking about them lol but you’ve given me a new appreciation for them!

I have drawn baby Fumi and shadow a 100 times and I will never get tired of them. In fact I have at least 8 more drawing in my queue waiting to be posted.

As for your question, in my personal hc I think it is exactly as you said, fumikage has always had Dark Shadow since birth but they didn’t have a physical manifestation until they were older. Tokoyami would always be able to hear and feel shadow and they might have even been able to see them like a sort of hallucination/illusion (like how Midoriya sees the vestiges). His parents thought his “shadow” was just an imaginary friends until they realized this was obviously something more serious.

Because of this tokoyami was your stereotypical horror child with the demon imaginary friend, even his own mother found him unnerving. There were probably times when Fumi was in extreme darkness that shadow was able to manifest “something” but they had no idea what they were doing, it was like having to teach yourself how to walk. But yeah tokoyami was not very well liked by the other children. From having a bird head to talking to yourself; the two of them were more often than not all alone.

[unexceptional-broken]

               SHE PUT HER tools down for a moment, looking over at her brother. They didn’t get too many afternoons like this — they hadn’t had many afternoons like this even before the entire world had changed — but the timid tranquility in the living room was both novel and nostalgic, like this scene scratched a long-scarred over part of her memories where something better sat. Becky had been organizing her medical kit when her brother had arrived claiming no other reason than to just BE with his sister for the afternoon. She’d been burning at both ends for so long that the idea felt alien, but not unwanted. 

She rested her chin on her raised knee, sitting on the murphy bed currently unfolded out of the wall to make more places to sit in the living room. The area was small, but not cramped: she’d been nauseas when she’d found out just how much real estate cost, feeling like she was back when an apple cost more than she’d be able to scrounge together in a week. But luckily for her, an administrative error had never taken her salary off of the Stark Labs payroll, and Tony Stark hadn’t wanted to revise the error when they found out, instead paying her out with a flourish. The decades of money had given her a small nest egg, the bulk of which went to her purchasing a smalll brownstone outright, refusing to leave Brooklyn despite its changes over the years. As such, the living room in which she now sat with her brother wasn’t quite as expansive as she thought it would be with the money in her possession, but she’d quickly warmed to it and found all the ways to pragmatically utilize the space, starting with the murphy bed. A bed that can unfold out of the wall meant more space when it wasn’t in use. She arranged the furniture so the bed would unfold right on top of the coffee table, and suddenly, she had a working medical space when she needed it, or a visitor’s bed if anyone ever thought to be a guest. 

Her brother was flicking through a book in a manner so painfully familiar she could almost convince herself that the last century had never actually happened. She could ignore the soft glnt of metal when he shifted his arm, or even the scar on his fleshy knuckle that she knew for certain had never been their prior, and if she managed to continue to put those changes aside, seeing her brother folded into a chair and engrossed in a book was a sight so him — so THEM — that she didn’t even know if it fit anymore. Despite the short time that had passed, Becky still had some trouble being normal around Jimmy, and she was worried he was beginning to notice, if he hadn’t already. She was so worried that he would finally open his eyes and realize that the best parts of herself were no longer residing in her scarred-up chest. A fear buried deep inside of her kept whispering that one day, he’d realize that she had left those good parts at his grave, needing to fill the empty cedar with something, and she didn’t know if she could get those pieces back. 

She just hoped that that day wouldn’t be today. She picked up the bandages she had been packing into her kit and let her brother continue in the quiet for as long as he needed, hoping she hadn’t shifted the energy of the day too irrevocably with her staring and the heaviness she always seemed to carry with her. Unconsciously and under her breath, she instead began humming, both as a means to comfort herself and to bring focus back into her body. It was an old song, old even when they had been children, but a favorite of a very young Becca Barnes when she heard the Ukranian grandmother through the paper-thin walls of their apartment singing it to her grown son on nights when whatever nightmares they’d seen before her birth overcame him. She didn’t know the words, only the melody, but... it had always felt like the words would just mean love. 

                                                    ( @wnterslder​ ) « starter call

[elencr]

ₓ ˚ .   ୭   ˚ ○ ◦ ˚    ―      ㅤ‘ ELLIE’S BIRTHDAY ’ |  STARTER CALL !          

                                                            @frstwomn​

* .  ♡           never in her wildest dreams did ellie think she would be catering a christmas event for the president of the united states. she came from a small rural town in australia, one of the most countriest of places. who would have thought that she would be here - on her 26th birthday no less. “ uh madam president ? ” she spoke, her accent seemingly out of place. “ did you want me to top up your drink ? ” the champagne bottle was cold in her hands, but she beamed.

[tblsomedoodles]

You only made two posts for Adopted Mikey AU and I'm living for it! What's Leo's thoughts on Raph suddenly arriving with bby!Mikey (Angie? Angel? Is he gonna get a new name?)

And if he grows up in the 2003 verse, how would they discover he's from an alternate dimension?

There's so much potential for feels and fluff, but also shenanigans of raising a turtle tot that can hide in his shell and has mystic powers.

Thank you! : ) I am absolutely blown away with how much you all like this au lol.

But  yeah, Leo's a little concerned that his most impulsive brother just brought home a child (mostly do to the fact he's not sure Raph quite knows what he's getting himself into.) But once it's clear that Raph is quite serious about taking care of the kid, well

Leo's actually ends up being the one in charge of the bulk of Angelo's ninja training so those two are quite close.

As for names, they call him Angelo (upon Splinter's suggestion. Also b/c at that point, Angelo was only responding to the name "Orange")(i subscribe to the headcannon that the Rise boys didn’t get their proper names until Mikey was about 5 or so, and that their colors kind of act as middle names for them after that.) But Angelo does have a variety of nicknames, like Ange, Angie, Jello (Mostly Mikey uses that one), and Angel likes to call him either Angel JR or mini-me just to annoy Raph.

They know he’s from a different dimension because Splinter (through meditation) noticed that Angelo had the same signature/make-up/soul etc as Mikey and makes sure his own sons understand what that means. (ie: sending him home was going to take a long time, and that he would, eventually, have to go back. He was needed in his dimension as much as his boys were needed in this one.)

Raph tries his best to make sure Angelo understands this as well (he doesn’t want to keep such a big secret from his kid.) Though it is something that he introduces the specifics of over time since 3 yo Angelo would not understand different dimensions and the like. Early on, he mostly just makes sure Angelo knows he’s adopted but he still very much loves him.

and hell yeah, there’s soo much potential in this au! Angelo getting raised by the rebel child? Plus has 3 doting uncles and a grandpa who spoils him? (Not to mention they would have to bodily fight to keep April and Casey away from the kid.) That boy is going to have everyone wrapped around his little finger and there’s nothing they can do about it lol.

Thanks again!!

[alexanderlightweight]

Okie dokie, I adore the sentient shadow thing with Alec as the True blood heir. How does the downworld feel about him? Or in Elysiums Tears goe does Magnus' friends and family react to Alec?

this did not go the way i meant to, also I do have a fill that i posted about Cat meeting Alec in Elysium's tears

so i wrote Ragnor meeting bby!Alec in the sentient shadow Trueblood heir verse.

i hope you enjoy and thank you for the compliment and prompt!

-

“Commander Lightwood.” Ragnor says, voice dripping with disdain and displeasure at the official request — order — from the clave summoning him to New York.

He hasn’t even told Magnus or Catarina that he’s on the same continent as them yet, knowing that they’ll try to insert themselves as backup.

Which he may still need, but he won’t risk bringing them in until he knows what’s going on.

“Trueblood.” Maryse Lightwood tells him, the corners of her eyes tight and her lips pursed, as if to hold back a grimace.

Which, for her, is almost polite.

“Excuse me?” Ragnor asks, confused, and he watches as she closes her eyes for a fraction of a second and takes a barely visible breath.

“It’s Commander Trueblood, I am no longer associated with the Lightwoods.”

Which is lovely and all, but it’s never been her last name that’s defined her to the downworld, it’s been her actions. Divorce is rare, however, among shadowhunters, even ones married for politics reasons and Ragnor wonders just what he’s being dragged into.

“Commander Trueblood then,” Ragnor says, and she nods in acceptance and hesitates, before she turns her back on him and motions for him to follow.

“I need wards apart from the Institute’s for my heir’s rooms.” She tells him and there is something tight and dangerous in her voice. Ragnor wonders at just what has happened, for the her child to be her heir now instead of Lightwood’s.

“Is there something wrong with the Institute wards?” He asks, voice frosty because while their connection isn’t known, Magnus is the one who did these wards and Ragnor can tell that they are impeccable.

“No, it’s not that.” She pauses at a door and then with a glower at him — as if he’d try anything in an Institute filled with hunters — unbuckles her weapons and lets them drop to the floor, and then she takes off her shoes. “Alec is…” and she trails off, something almost vulnerable in her gaze and if it wouldn’t possibly get him stabbed, Ragnor would push.

Because what on earth makes a woman like Maryse Trueblood so hesitant that she’ll disarm herself in front of a warlock and even turn her back to one.

“My son didn’t inherit the Lightwood gifts.” Maryse says and Ragnor knows immediately why he’s been called. Ragnor is one of the only warlocks still alive who knows as much about nephilim as he does and he’s the only one the clave can’t risk killing for that very reason. When they need the services of a warlock for something this important, they rely on him and only him.

“Then your own family powers, are they stronger or weaker than yours? Or mutated from the joining of bloodlines?”

Maryse shudders and stops at another door and then turns and her eyes are dark and serious and grave.

“There have been no Trueblood’s who have awakened our gift for over three generations. Alec is the first to be so blessed.” There’s pain in her voice and a twist to her lips, as if she’s trying to convince herself that it’s a blessing, rather than Ragnor.

“Baby,” she calls as she carefully opens the door and the pet’s name surprises Ragnor almost more than the gentle, coaxing tone of her voice. “I asked Potions Master Fell to come.”

Which is a fancy way of saying, she got the clave to do her dirty work for her and they demanded his presence, but then Ragnor steps in after her and understands why he was needed.

The boy is young and he’s floating above his bed, lying on a puddle of shadows that writhe the moment they sense intruders. A blank gaze greets them and instead of focusing on Ragnor, he focus’s on his mother.

Between an unknown and powerful warlock and his mother, Alec Trueblood is more wary of his mother.

He considers her the bigger threat.

“Mother.” The boy says, voice still in the soft, high stage of a truly young child but his tone is cold and hard, there is no feeling in his words.

“I—” and Maryse takes a shuddering breathe, “he’s going to help you, okay Alec? Whatever you need you ask him, I’ll pay for it, okay? You don’t need to clear it with me first, or even tell me everything, okay baby?”

Ragnor is shocked when she then leaves, backing out of the room and he realizes that taking off her weapons, her shoes, not turning her back… she’s trying not to engage her son.

Maryse is terrified and Ragnor isn’t sure if it’s because she thinks her own heir will kill her, or if it’s something else.

She leaves and her son watches her and as the door clicks shut behind her, he moves.

The shadows take him to the door and Ragnor watches as small hands press against the door and the shadows seal it shut, making sure that it can’t be opened physically though Ragnor could always use magic.

Then he turns to Ragnor and with a small, solemn voice says, “we don’t trust her yet. So, she can’t stay but we don’t mind you.” He steps closer and, as if it’s a secret says, “if you don’t hit us, you can stay.”

Ragnor feels his heart crack, a little piece of it breaking for this tiny child who looks as battle worn as a veteran hunter.

“I won’t hit you, laddie.” Ragnor promises and then he squats, trying to get on eye level. “But I’m afraid my old age is a bit much for these bones of mine. May I sit?”

A chair is dragged over, scraping across the floor as shadows bring it to Ragnor and then Alec nods, hesitant and almost shy.

Ragnor sits, pretending he’s out of breath as he collapses into the chair with a gusty sigh.

“Ah, laddie. Portals are the works of geniuses but can be a bit draining. Now then, why don’t you tell me what it is I’m supposed to be helping you with?”

Alec walks closer and then plops down. For a second, Ragnor expects him to break a bone with the force that he lets himself drop with, except the shadows catch him, holding him up and steady and the lad just smiles, a tiny quirk of his lips.

“I don’t like it when it goes all dark, it’s not as… nice.” He tells Ragnor, his manner of speaking careful and wary, like he doesn’t think he’s allowed to make mistakes. “We want light, so we can travel and not a witchlight.” The lad scowls, “they’re stupid. They turn off when no one touches them and then the shadows get hungry.”

Ragnor swallows, understanding better than the lad himself what it means that his shadows seek light to eat.

“I can certainly figure something out. What else?”

“I don’t want mother coming in my room without permission, even when I’m not there. Or anyone.” Alec is gripping his small, no doubt custom made breeches, already being dressed in hunting gear. “This needs to be our space. Where we’re safe, where other people can’t hurt us.”

It pants a sad, hateful image of just what happened for Maryse to change so much and Ragnor has to ask despite the danger it might put him in, “laddie, are you with the parents you want to be with?”

Dark eyes meet his gaze and there’s something vicious that flashes through, like a glint of green when the sunlight breaks through the branches of a thick forest.

“Mother was the least unworthy.” Alec tells him quietly and then, ducking his head, he shrugs, and his voice is pleased as he whispers. “She’s trying, more than she did before and she tells me she loves me now.” Ragnor feels like another part of his carefully protected heart will crack and then the lad grins, a vicious slip of a smile. “And mother knows best, what will happen if she hurts me again.”

Ragnor swallows down his sympathy and his concern and he smiles, because that’s all he can do, that and help the boy ward his room from high heaven, down to the lowest level of hell.

“Well, since I’m here—” Ragnor sends a playful wink that turns the little lad’s face into one of surprise, “since no one can enter without permission, do you want to redecorate?”

There’s awe on the lad’s face and the shadows drop him to his feet and he lands, like a graceful and nimble kitten before he stalks over to Ragnor. His fluffy curls are extremely tempting and Ragnor risks his fingers, reaching out to pat the lad’s head.

The gift he’s given — a delighted, grateful little grin and shadows parting for his touch — is perhaps the most valuable thing he’s ever been gifted by a nephilim.

“Really?” He’s asked and for the first time, Alec sounds nearly his age and Ragnor lets out a deep chuckle and lets his magic swirl around the room. The shadows wriggle as if delighted but they don’t attack his magic, only the light that comes from its glow and Ragnor settles, more confident in his welcome than ever before.

“Really, laddie. Now, I think you need something far softer than wood. Have you ever felt a carpet made from the fur of a fire-elk?”