#probably just because i find snakes so difficult to draw. how to draw snakes with legs and make them look not like lizards

[caninecordyceps]

Assorted snakes sketches?

[maniculum]

Medieval Scorpions Effortpost

So yesterday I reblogged this post featuring an 11th-century depiction of the Apocalypse Locusts from Revelations, noting the following incongruity as another medieval scorpion issue:

The artist, as you can see, has interpreted "tails like scorpions" as meaning "glue cheerful-looking snakes to their butts".

Anyway, it occurred to me that the medieval scorpion thing might not be as widely known as I think it is, and that Tumblr would probably enjoy knowing about it if it isn't known already. So, finding myself unable to focus on the research I'm supposed to be doing, I decided to write about this instead. I'll just go ahead and put a cut here.

As we can see in the image above, at least one artist out there thought a "scorpion" was a type of snake. Which makes it difficult to draw "tails like scorpions", because a snake's tail is not that distinctive or menacing (maybe rattlesnakes, but they don't have those outside the Americas). So they interpreted "tails like scorpions" as "the tail looks like a whole snake complete with head".

Let me tell you. This is not a problem unique to this illustration.

See, people throughout medieval Europe were aware of scorpions. As just alluded to, they are mentioned in the Bible, and if the people producing manuscripts in medieval Europe knew one thing, it was Stuff In Bible. They're also in the Zodiac, which medieval Europe had inherited through classical sources. However, let's take a look at this map:

That's Wikipedia's map of the native range of the Scorpiones order, i.e., all scorpion species. You may notice something -- the range just stops at a certain northern latitude. Pretty much all of northern Europe is scorpion-free. If you lived in the north half of Europe, odds were good you had never seen a scorpion in your life. But if you were literate or educated at all, or you knew they were a thing, because you'd almost certainly run across them being mentioned in texts from farther south. And those texts wouldn't bother to explain what a scorpion was, of course -- everyone knows scorpions, right? When was the last time you stopped to explain What Is Spiders?

So medieval writers and artists in northern Europe were kind of stuck. There was all this scorpion imagery and metaphor in the texts they liked to work from, but they didn't really know what a scorpion was. Writers could kind of work around it (there's a lot of "oh, it's a venomous creature, moving on"), but sometimes they felt the need to break it down better. For this, of course, they'd have to refer to a bestiary -- but due to Bestiary Telephone and the persistent need of bestiary authors to turn animals into allegories, one of the only visual details you got on scorpions was that they... had a beautiful face, which they used to distract people in order to sting them.

And look. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but I would say that a scorpion's face has significant aesthetic appeal only for a fairly small segment of the population. I'm sure you could get an entomologist to rhapsodize about it a bit, but your average person on the street will not be entranced by the face of a scorpion. So this did not help the medieval Europeans in figuring out how to depict scorpions. There was also some semantic confusion -- see, in some languages (such as Old and Middle English), "worm" could be a general term for very small animals of any kind. But it also could mean "serpent".* So there were some, like our artist at the top of the post, who were pretty sure a scorpion was a snake. This was probably helped along by the fact that "venomous" was one of the only things everyone knew about them, and hey, snakes are venomous. Also, Pliny the Elder had floated the idea that there were scorpions in Africa that could fly, and at least one author (13th-century monk Bartholomaeus Anglicus) therefore suggested that they had feathers. I don't see that last one coming up much, I just share it because it's funny to me.

*English eventually resolved this by borrowing the Latin vermin for very small animals, using the specialized spelling wyrm for big impressive mythical-type serpents, and sticking with the more specific snake for normal serpents.

Some authors, like the anonymous author of the Ancrene Wisse, therefore suggested that a scorpion was a snake with a woman's face and a stinging tail. (Everyone seemed to be on the same page with regards to the fact that the sting was in the tail, which is in fact probably the most recognizable aspect of scorpions, so good job there.) However, while authors could avoid this problem, visual artists could not. And if you were illustrating a bestiary or a calendar, including a scorpion was not optional. So they had to take a shot at what this thing looked like.

And so, after this way-too-long explanation, the thing you're probably here for: inaccurate medieval drawings of scorpions. (There are of course accurate medieval drawings of scorpions, from artists who lived in the southern part of Europe and/or visited places where scorpions lived; I'm just not showing you those.) And if you find yourself wondering, "how sure are you that that's meant to be a scorpion?" -- all of these are either from bestiaries or from calendars that include zodiac illustrations.

11th-century England, MS Arundel 60. (Be honest, without the rest of this post, if I had asked you to guess what animal this was supposed to be, would you have ever guessed “scorpion”?)

12th-century Germany, "Psalter of Henry the Lion". (Looks a bit undercooked. Kind of fetal.)

12th-century France, Peter Lombard's Sententiae. (Very colorful, itsy bitsy claws, what is happening with that tail?)

12th-century England, "The Shaftesbury Psalter". (So a scorpion is some sort of wyvern with a face like a duck, correct?)

13th-century France, Thomas de Cantimpré's Liber de natura rerum. (I’d give them credit for the silhouette not being that far off, but there’s a certain bestiary style where all the animals kind of look like that. Also note how few of these have claws.)

13th-century England, "The Bodley Bestiary". (Mischievous flying squirrel impales local man’s hand, local man fails to notice.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (A scorpion is definitely either a mouse or a fish. Either way it has six legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Wait, no, it’s a baby theropod, and it has two legs. (Yes, this is the same manuscript, that’s not an error, this artist did four scorpions and no two are the same.))

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Actually it’s a lizard with tiny ears and it has four legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Now that we’re at the big fancy illustration, I think I’ve got it — it’s like that last one, but two legs, longer ears, and a less goofy face. Also I’ve decided it’s not pink anymore, I think that was the main problem.)

13th-century England, MS Kk.4.25. (A scorpion is a flat crocodile with a bear’s head.)

13th-century England, "The Huth Psalter". (Wyvern but baby! Does not seem to be enjoying biting its own tail.)

13th-century England, MS Royal 1 D X. (This triangular-headed gentlecreature gets the award for “closest guess at correct limb configuration”. If two of those were claws, I might actually believe this artist had seen a scorpion before, or at least a picture of one.)

13th-century England, "The Westminster Psalter". (A scorpion is the offspring of a wyvern and a fawn.)

13th-century England, "The Rutland Psalter". (Too many legs! Pull back! Pull back!)

13th or 14th-century France, Bestiaire d'amour rimé. (This is very similar to the fawn-wyvern, but putting it in an actual Scene makes it even more obvious that you’re just guessing.)

14th-century Netherlands, Jacob van Maerlant's Der Naturen Bloeme. (More top-down six-legged guys that look too furry to be arthropods.)

14th-century Germany, MS Additional 22413. (That is clearly a turtle.)

14th-century France, Matfres Eymengau de Beziers's Breviari d'amor. (Who came up with that head shape and what was their deal?)

15th-century England, "Bestiary of Ann Walsh". (Screw it, a scorpion is a big lizard that glares at you for trying to make me draw things I don’t know about.)

I've spent way too much time on this now. End of post, thank you to anyone who got all the way down here.

[ryuichirou]

I love how you draw the tweels and Azul. They look so imposing in your art style! I know you love drawing Ignihyde, Octavinelle and Scarabia boys a lot, but I'm curious if you have drawings of the rest of the twst cast as well. I'd love to see everyone in your art style!

Anon! Thank you so much for your kind words. I’m glad you like how I draw the Octa-boys. I’m not even sure which dorm I draw most often, but it has to be either them or Ignihyde haha. But in all honesty, I really love drawing all the characters; even if we don’t care much about them, they are usually still quite pleasant to draw at least once.

Which is why I can actually compile my drawings of pretty much every character in this reply! It’s honestly surprising lol but also not really. I can’t believe it’s been a year since we started drawing and posting twst…

Alright, here we go!

Heartslabyul – wow, I can’t believe I don’t have any coloured Aces that are relatively new… We like Ace a lot, I should probably draw him. And Cater too, to be honest, this is my only coloured sketch with him. I never expected to enjoy drawing these boys as much as I do, to be honest.

Savanaclaw – Leona is the only character I don’t have a proper sketch that is not a commission with lol I’m sorry. But I actually quite like the comms of Leona that I got to draw, so here is one of them! I also really enjoyed drawing Ruggie, I should do it again… And Jack too…

Octavinelle – aw yis yakuza fishies babyyyyyyyyyyyyy. Come on, you know I love these guys lol Whenever I look at them I feel at home. It’s a shame I don’t draw them wearing fedoras (for some reason I’m still intimidated by fedoras), because I love everything about their dorm uniforms.

Scarabia – I also don’t feel like I draw these two often enough, but their uniform is probably the most difficult one to draw, simply because of all the details and prints and gold and accessories. But it’s so worth it!... I also think that Jamil is the prettiest snake in the world.

Pomefiore – it’s stupid how long it took me to find a Rook that doesn’t look creepy in my drawings lol I really love this side of him. I also really enjoy drawing Vil, but whenever I do, I feel intimidated. I just can’t mess him up..! But if the Vil that I drew ends up looking good, I get so emotional that I cry (not a 100% lie)

Ignihyde – picking an Idia and an Ortho out of hundreds of sketches of Idia and Ortho was more challenging that I thought it would be, so I picked these because I still really like their faces and think they’re cute! I also can’t get enough of them… to this day… Their hair, their teeth, everything.

Diasomnia – I feel like whenever I draw these guys we have an urge to make it into an art, this is why we have a lot of finished rendered artworks with them. Their aesthetic is just… super fitting for all kinds of dark and gothic stuff. I also adore drawing their eyes!!! All of them have such pretty eyes.

The teachers – if you feel the urge to laugh at Crowley for only getting a black and white sketch, I encourage you to also laugh at Vargas for not being here at all… I think he is the only character that I’m missing, huh.

Others – bonus round! I actually also have a sketch of Fellow Honest and Gidel but by the time I remembered them I got tired of making this thing lol, and we haven’t watched the event yet anyway, so they’ll get their chance to shine some other time (you can find it on my ko-fi though). Meleanor is also here, and I honestly I would be happy to draw every twst mom at some point… And other minor characters too…

But not the dwarves; screw them (just kidding I might draw them too at some point).

[nohiketoosmall]

plush snakes- to pattern or not to pattern

so at this point i have like 12000 words and probably like 150 plush snakes in my google doc. one thing i ran into recently is that I wanted to do an example pattern for the rhino viper

this is a rhino viper plush from wildrepublic

below is the pattern above versus my best approximation of the actual pattern:

PLUS I made a version that is vertically symmetricallike the WR one.

and then my brain was like well i should do some more patterns so this isn't the only one

so i made these- ball python and anaconda

and then i realized. that with how many different species and overlapping species there are, it would be insane to do them

plus like. at this rate I still have to

-record a video of me talking about all of these (at this rate this will be like 5 hours of talking im not kidding)

-edit out all the ums / cut everything nicely

-edit in all the pictures of plushies

-including all of the sources when necessary and ratings in text

anyways so now i have to decide whether it's a good idea to add all of these patterns as well. plus like they are biased towards a specific aesthetic.

I've already decided to not show actual photos of most of the snakes because it will be just insanely difficult to find 100% accurate photos with permission from the internet, but instead I have several snake books and I'll put them near me, open for the camera, or hold them up if necessary. That should make citing a lot easier, too.

Like this one has a ball python on the cover and a lot of nice spreads

idk, im still on the fence about it. id love to be able to draw a reference for all the species but its just a lot of work.

[sigyn-foxyposts]

The lokissons twins head cannons!

Vali 🐺

Vali's birth name is actually Nari because Loki thought it was cute making the twins have matching names.

Not only do they sound similar but Loki thought it was fun to reference how some twins look when born: one big the other small.

Nari's name. means "feeder/nourisher"

Vali's name is unknown, but it could have something to do with valley's.

Nari likes going by Vali or Val instead of his birth name. He doesn't hate his actual name, but he just prefers it more.

Odin actually took and used Vali's name for his own son. Intentionally causing confusion between the two and wanting Vali to be forgotten when punishing loki.

Odin thought it was stupid to let Vali use another name when he was already given one. Loki did not appreciate this.

Relationships!

The other kids in Asgard like calling him Ali out of innocent fun.

Because Vali never understands who they're talking about until they tell him it. Vali finds this as annoying as it is funny.

Vali really looks up to Loki and is definitely a daddy's boy. Their chaotic nature match up after all.

He thinks Loki is super cool in whatever he is doing, even if it gives everyone else second hand embarrassment.

He also looks up to fenrir for pretty much the same reasons. I mean what isn't cool about having a giant wolf as your older brother?

Vali and Thrud are best friends, not just because their fathers are, but because they genuinely get along.

Their shared interests are: play fighting, playing make believe, exploring and collecting rocks.

Likes and dislikes:

🟢Forests, Mountains, the colors blue and green, being read/told stories, open spaces, jumping in puddles, the rain, His family, Magni because he looks out for him and Narfi, protecting others & Narfi, doing very dangerous stunts, drawing on anything, climbing on everything, wolves/dogs, bears, snakes, playing hide and seek.

🔴 Rules, Closed spaces, mud or clay, Modi because he's mean to him and Narfi, getting in trouble, being blamed for something (even if it is his fault, seeing someone get hurt/cry, heights, bugs.

Narfi 🦊

Narfi means "narrow or difficult birth"

Since Vali doesn't really use Nari as his name anymore, Narfi uses it as a nickname because he has an attachment to the name.

If it wasn't obvious, Narfi was the smaller twin out of the two and like his name suggests he came into the world with a few difficulties.

He looks very pale and sickly, he is smaller and thin in comparson with Vali and has health problems.

He tends to get sick very easily during winters too.

This is probably why he is so careful in nature compared to Vali. Who unlike him doesn't have much health problems and is a Daredevil.

Relationships!

Narfi looks up to Sigyn more than anyone else because she has always been there to care and protect him.

He knows whatever she is doing is always to make sure he is okay, which is very comforting to him.

They have a very close bond, which makes Narfi quite the Mama's boy.

Narfi also really likes Hel and Sleipnir, both being very calm and collected people.

Though he mostly favors Hel because they've gotten to bond more with her. This is because Sleipnir isn't much around.

Narfi doesn't really socialize with anyone but his family, when he does though he prefers people such as Njord, Forseti, Idunn or Bragi.

They tend to have a lot in common, especially with Forseti.

But because Loki isn't very fond of Baldr's family whenever Loki sees Narfi hanging out with Forseti he makes the hard decision of stepping in and taking his kid out of there.

Likes and dislikes:

🟢 The color yellow and brown, reading or being read to, snuggling with Sigyn or his siblings, making flower crowns, riding on his families backs, quiet environments, being around Vali, Sigyn or Hel, Summer & autumn, listening to bragi's poems or music, drawing and writing, foxes, deers, cats.

🔴Loki's behavior, being told he looks like Loki, listening to Loki's rules, winter, being sick, slipping on ice, Skadi for winter alone, Modi because he picks on him and Vali, being scared/crying easily, being around too many people, social situations, loud noisy places, mud or clay, playing hide and seek because Loki always wins.

[paganposting]

Hey! Sorry for the question, but I was wondering where to find resources on getting into druidry/how to find a grove? I noticed you suggested not doing looking online—another thing I wondered was if it was a closed practice?

alright so this might be a long answer

i'll answer the second question first- is druidry a closed practice?

theres debate but the consensus is largely that no, it is not closed. some argue that it is semi-closed in the sense that it must be practiced only by people who have done tons of research and study on celtic history if they aren't celtic. i personally dont love this idea much, several members of my grove practice multiple religions alongside druidry like judaism or indigenous american religions. i dont feel like they should have this extra burden of proving their dedication essentially for not being white 🤷‍♂️

now- how to find a grove

first you need to know what type of druidry you are interested in. there are two main large druid organizations that i'm aware of

1) OBOD (Order of Bards Ovates and Druids)

this group is largely neopagan, focuses on welsh and british traditions, and draws heavily from arthurian mythology- although i believe their new president is an Irish woman so we'll see how that influences the order. they have a website where you can find a chapter near you.

2) ADF (Ár nDraíocht Féin or A Druid Fellowship)

this group is largely revivalist/ reconstructionist, focuses on irish traditions, and draws heavily from irish mythology. they also have a website where you can find a chapter near you.

outside of those there are of course independent groves. thats what im part of! these are more difficult to find, i would probably begin my search for one on facebook and asking around local witchy shops. lots of these groups are more informal and dont have a specific website. the advice to steer away from the internet is because you will find a lot of snake oil salesmen unfortunately.

one online source i do really highly recommend is the irish pagan school. they offer courses and online classes and guided meditations that are all extremely thorough and led by indigenous irish people. they're also launching the ogham academy which is super cool if that's something you're interested in!

for the most part youre just going to have to show up in person to a lot of places until you find somewhere that fits. also, dont be afraid of being the only druid in a different pagan group if you like that community and theyre willing to have you! i personally think that having a strong community is more important than being in a druids only club lmao

hope that helps!!!

[corv-idae]

Hello!!! I was wondering if you could tell us about your tattoos? I love all of them and would like to similar ones :>

Hi!! Absolutely I can go over them for you!! Omg this is so exciting

I’m assuming this is in reference to this post from a while ago:

If it isn’t please forgive me 😭, but if it is this is about a year old so I’ve collected a couple others than the tattoos you see in these photos! I’d be delighted to go over them all though! Please feel free to use them as references for your tattoos (please don’t copy them directly out of respect for my tattoo artists who designed them (if not respect for me!) ((all artists listen here will be embedded with links to their respective social media pages))

The two that are probably most important are the ones on the backs of my arms! Revali’s Great Eagle Bow and Miphas Trident! (this photo was taken the day these were done by Saraostattoo) :

The first tattoo I ever got is on the back of my shoulder, I forget it’s there all the time, my mom proof read this for me and asked about it being missing lol it was done by mariangelo.tattoo this photo is healed 3 years or so

I’m also rockin a couple pieces by politeslut !

The first piece she did for me was a Big Flash sheet design of some rose hips! (Ouch ouch) picture is 6months healed

She’s also done a Celtic symbol on my upper arm that matches with my aunt (I won’t get into explaining symbolism, sorry this photo is also terrible taking these on my own with my cellphone is proving to be not my forte, yes this one needs to be touched up)

And most recently for me she did a Great Big Freehanded Snake! (this one is so difficult to take pictures of & only a month old/healing but you can find the process pictures of it here)

The last handful & majority of my tattoos were done by rat.tooth.tattoo ! The first one he ever did for me being a Postage Stamp Flash Piece this photo is from the day of:

He then did my elbow ditch Dynamax Butterfree, photo also from the day of (this is a common theme):

My video game herb bundle half sleeve, this one’s a doozy so you get the TikTok and the drawing:

He’s also done my hands as a memorial piece for when I lost my cat this past year (he lived to be 21 and he was an awful old bastard & my best friend)

Thank you if you made it this far, I don’t think I’ve ever made a post this long before! If there’s any questions or if you want to share your tattoos with me I’d love to see them! I hope this is what you were looking for & if not let me know what I can do to fix that :D

[erigold13261]

Dang Mahito at least you have taste in what you turn your victims into…

so… Catherine a snake, Kento is some sort of liquid elemental assuming from the hair and something else, Yu is more fiery now (love his new jacket, must’ve taken inspiration from Hobie), Shoko as we know is a ghost (also did Mahito blow its eye out like Nobara? Dang.), Gwen is a doll/animatronic (she even has cheek pads! And I love how she reverted back to the OG hairstyle. Dang Mahito.), and Junpei is a jellyfish.

Guess Mahito smashed the Fuck Around button repeatedly, and now he gets smashed by the Find Around crew.

Yea, he's just having a bit of fun. Being a silly little lad.

Catherine is a snake. I don't know if Mahito changed her entirely to a snake or just made her snake-ness more visible. Kinda like the idea that he got rid of her plant elemental but she keeps those powers since element type and powers aren't absolutely linked (it would be a good learning experience for him in that regard in figuring out how much power he can lock away or unlock in someone without Suguru's help).

Kento is wax and water! I wanted to make him sand and water but then I thought of the phrase "Burning the candle at both ends" and wanted to make him wax and water!

It is a purposely unstable combination of elements, with him almost dying immediately being changed because he almost couldn't keep himself together. Thankfully he was able to get a grip on himself and stay put together but he was out of the fight at that moment.

Yu is either no longer ash and just pure fire and plant, or his ash side was heavily lessened in exchange for buffing his plant and adding fire to his elemental list. Again, another unstable/unfavorable mixture of elements done on purpose by Mahito who wanted to make it difficult for Yu and Kento to continue to fight.

Even better! He specifically made Yu have fire while Kento was wax and water because mixing those 3 can sometimes cause explosions! (not to mention how water will put out fire, and if Yu still has ash then Kento's water will now mix into his ash and make it difficult to move if he gets to close). These two work so well together that Mahito purposefully made it so if they do survive the transfiguration, that they will be a danger to themselves as well as each other.

(And yea, Hobie definitely helped Yu make that jacket lol)

I will be honest with Shoko, I didn't want to draw the other eye. But now I kinda like the idea that Mahito had hurt it badly in a fight, breaking its eye, just shattering that half of the face, and realized he was not supposed to harm Shoko based on Suguru's orders (he got away somehow with Kento and Yu, probably didn't know they used to be friends with Suguru so he gave Mahito a pass).

So Mahito decides to "save" Shoko by making it a ghost elemental (he meant to replace glass with ghost, but instead replace plant with ghost, so it still has cracks on its face and body, but they are not in danger of shattering anymore). He was also hoping that it would actually die but he had plausible deniability with Suguru saying he tried to save Shoko but it died in the process!

But he couldn't stay to made sure it died but he was pretty positive it did, only to be absolutely wrong and now have to learn how to fight against Shoko as a ghost elemental (and trust me, it is going to get its revenge >:3)

Gwen is supposed to be a porcelain doll, or at least a jointed one. But I did give her a speaker in her chest. Either Mahito did that unintentionally, it is what Gwen naturally would have had, or she had it installed in her after the fight (still working on what I want).

All I will say is, Mahito wanted to make Gwen weaker, but because of this change, she is actually much stronger now. Not physically, since she can now break more easily, but the speaker allows her to have the same power as Hobie now.

Instead of only having vibrations through solid or liquid matter, she now also has vibrations in air. Meaning: she has sonic booms now as well! She will definitely need Hobie to teach her how to use that power properly though.

(Also with the hair, I like to think Mahito had grabbed it either during or right after the transfiguration and so she cut it to get away or he ripped it off to hurt her. But it was not a willing decision for Gwen).

And yea! Junpei is a jellyfish! He was an absolute nobody before! No powers, no elements, nothing. And so he willingly took Mahito up on his offer to change. Even knowing it could kill them because Mahito was legit with Junpei saying that this could kill them and that it will absolutely hurt like hell (Mahito was experimenting with how bad it could hurt or not hurt, and wanted a willing participant to test it).

Thankfully (or not thankfully) Junpei was used to pain so it wasn't as bad as it would be for someone who hadn't already experienced the shit Junpei had gone through from school.

It was actually Junpei being changed, and them harassing the school that brought Kento, Yu, and Yuji to the school looking for Mahito (still don't know why Yuji is here, but he is and is the reason Mahito didn't kill Kento and Yu while they couldn't fight).

But anyway! Mahito loves pressing the "fuck around" button so much! His favorite pastime right there! He hasn't even considered the "find out" crew is coming for his ass.

[archenemyintellegence]

I put a lot of symbols in this drawing to express what I was going through. So here is a separate post for them.

。

Background:

Four corners of different colors: The colors came up in my mind when I think of Venus, Mars, Sun and myself.

Those three planets are my top 3 dominant planets.

Thunder: Intense emotion + pain

Cracks: Cracked mirror. My world is falling apart.

Branches: That tree in Eden.

Cyan colored: The feeling of electric + In a vision I saw the shadow of the tree in Eden is in glowing blue.

Shattered words: "You can be so MUCH MORE" Words are shown in such an unclear way because some knowledge can only be experienced instead of learned from words.

。

Subject:

Snake: Leads to the forbidden knowledge. The blue eyes is another symbol of Uranus, beside the symbol on the glove, as its derived from the color of Uranus. It hinted the hex crystal too. The posture suggests that it's coming down from the tree to tempt Viktor.

Viktor: The one who craved the forbidden knowledge due to desperation. (I was in major pain because of ego death, but it was a decision I made because I desperately needed peace.)

Light from the right: Righteous light. It's a classic symbol.

Glowing horns: Ambiguity of good and bad. Suffering is a horrible experience but it can bring enlightenment.

White suit: In a mobile game I used to play, Satan was in white suit, with Adam and Eve in the Eden. The white suit also strikes great contrast between the "forbidden" thing Viktor is going to do.

Uranus: Knowledge, logic, radical change (glorious evolution maybe lol), to create/discover something that's completely new.

Bloody mark on the right hand: Sacrifice. May suggest snake bite. 11 = Union of the mind and soul. But the core reason for me to draw this is because I dreamed of a hand with a bloody 11 on it that night. The symbol ties my thoughts together, so I use it on this drawing.

。

These are the decisions that I consciously made. There may be some more symbols that I unconsciously added, or maybe I just don't want to tell you the full story. Did this clear things up for you? You probably didn't even care, because it's very difficult to feel drawn to something that you don't feel connected to. But this is how I work. My mind encrypts thoughts and concepts into symbols. It's very similar to a dream, and it's very good for generating ideas for art. Not so good for communicating with people tho 💀

A quote from Prince I saw on Instagram touches me. He spoke through music as it was his language. My language is art, and I speak through art. I hope one day I can find someone that understands my language, but I'm content with being alone.

Vigor (29/6/2023)

。

He understands, and this gives me the strength to continue trying. Don’t ask me what’s going on or how do I feel, as they will be distorted and lost in words. My world is dissolving, when tears fill my eyes. Soundless screams echo in me, forming dots of colors into patterns and symbols.

。

[greta-van-chaos]

Tear You Apart

Jake Kiszka x Reader

Warnings | Explicit sexual content, cursing, m-dom/f-sub, voyeurism, edging, oral (f-recieving), over stimulation, dacryphilia, m-masturbation, spit, hairpulling, spanking, slight degradation (???), spit (are we surprised?)

Word Count | 3k words

Authors Note | So I found this idea through @allieboop on this post and knew I HAD to write it... I'm literally the biggest whore for dom!jake and just the idea of this has me weak in the knees. Full warning that the fic takes a whole ass 180 halfway through because I don't know how to stay consistent.

~

"Keep your eyes on me, baby." You clutch the sheets and grind your hips down onto Jake's mouth, his tongue laid out flat for you to work against. Keeping your eyes on him, let alone open is a difficult task but you obey nonetheless, watching from your seated position on the bed as he's knelt with his face pressed between your thighs.

"More, Jake, please." Your hips are pushing against him harder now, moving with the sole purpose of reaching the orgasm you've been chasing for the past forty minutes.

He acknowledges your request with a simple nod and brings his fingers to trace over your entrance, preparing to push into you. He teases you, only dipping in down to his first knuckle before pulling out and repeating that movement over and over again. The warmth in your stomach is almost growing overwhelming now, the need to find your release becoming so pertinent that when Jake pulls away you want to scream.

"Please, please don't stop." You reach to pull him closer by his hair "Please Jake, I'm so close, let me cum, I need it."

Your babbling doesn't phase him, he still rises from his knees to sit on the bed with you. You can't take your eyes off of him as he slips down his pants and pulls out his dick. You give a frustrated huff and slide your hand between your legs but Jake swats it away.

"Don't you fucking dare. You're gonna sit there like a good girl and watch me get myself off. If you touch yourself I'll edge you for the rest of the night."

He's done this a few times before, made you watch him just to wind you up even more but he'd never gone so far as to already have denied you multiple orgasms before teasing you like this. You bow your head and give a small nod which prompts him to start moving. Before he even touches himself he leans over and lets a small trail of spit drop from his mouth and onto the head of his dick. The movement was so sensual, so intimate, probably just an afterthought or something he's does unconsciously when he's all alone. Your body is trembling just watching him as he starts to pump himself, his head is already tipped back and his plump lips are glossy from spit, mouth open in an o shape.

The soft groans that leave his lips make you ache and you wish you could relieve the building need between your legs but you know you can't disobey him. He starts to buck up into his hand letting out soft breaths on each offbeat. You're growing wetter by the second as you watch him writher under his own touch. Jake starts to work against himself faster and harder, chasing his release with a growing fervor.

"Does that feel good Jakey?" You hum, shifting your hips in hopes of relieving some pressure.

He responds with a grunt and thrusts harder against his hand. At some point his hair has fallen into his face and it practically sets your body on fire with how disheveled he looks. Without thinking your hand snakes down your stomach, hoping that you can appease the ache in your core with just a few circles of your fingers.

You gasp, realizing that you just blatantly disobeyed Jake's only command and when his eyes meet yours and your hand is still drawing circles on your clit your chest fills with anxiety.

"Jake, I-- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to! Please keep going, I'll be good, I didn't mean it." Your heart is racing so fast you can feel beating against your ribcage. Jake is just sitting silently, his hand having stopped moving. His expression reads as bored which spurs you on more. "Jakey, baby, I'm sorry please, It was an accident, I wasn't thinking. I--"

"--Are you done?" He runs a finger over his bottom lip distractedly.

Huffing out an incredulous sigh you stare at him, completely wide eyed. "I just--"

"I don't care. Are you finished?"

"I- uh." You sputter, trying to gauge what he's thinking. "Yes. I'm done, sorry."

"You remember the light system, if you need me to stop, under any circumstances you say red. What colour are you?"

"Green." You breathe, looking into your lap to keep from meeting his eyes.

Almost as soon as the words pass your lips Jake is pouncing on you, forcing both of your wrists to the bed on either side of you head. He attacks your lips feverishly and grinds his cock against your bare cunt. A moan drags from your throat but it's quickly stifled when Jake shoves his fingers into your mouth.

"No more noise from you." He growls, then leans into your ear "Use the taps if you need to, okay? One, two, three." He demonstrates by tapping your wrist with the hand that's circling it. You nod frantically, begging him to continue with whatever he has planned for you. "Are you going to be quiet?" He slips his fingers out of your mouth and wipes the spit onto your lips as some sort of belittling gesture.

"I swear." You mutter but as soon as the words pass your lips you regret it, knowing that you already disobeyed the rules he's set out for you.

"You are not very good at following rules tonight." He chides, tapping his index finger over your bottom lip. Jake shifts so he can hold both of your hands above your head with one of his own and then he wraps his other around your throat, gripping it harshly and pulling you up so your lips are inches apart "I am going to fucking ruin you." He spits the words at you venomously and it makes your heart race. "Turn around, ass up."

When he relinquishes his grip on your wrists you scramble onto all fours, presenting yourself to him with your back arched. The fact that he hasn't properly touched you yet makes your skin crawl, especially from such a vulnerable position, also coupled with the fact that you can't see him. The bed dips under his weight behind you and you breathe a sigh of relief, now that you know where he is your anxiety eases slightly.

In one quick movement, one that you barely register, Jake's hand sinks into your hair and pulls you against him so your back is flush with his chest. I groan falls past your lips at the sensation, sparks of pain shooting through your nerves that soon give way to a not-so-new feeling of pleasure. His body is now bare and you can feel how hot his skin is against yours. To hold you against him better he uses his other hand to grasp your throat, pining you against him but not restricting airflow. The hand in your hair releases it's hold but you still keep your head tipped back onto his shoulder, not that you really have a choice from how he's holding your neck.

You can practically feel your arousal slipping down your thighs and in a lame attempt to gain some relief you push your hips back against him, his cock slipping along the curve of your ass.

Jake tsks you at you "Cut that out."

You have to stop yourself from whining, not sure if you can handle any more punishment tacked onto whatever he has planned for you. You expect him to tease you a little bit more so when he pushes into you a startled moan is knocked loose from your lungs. Jake doesn't comment on the noise with words, only puts a bit more pressure on the sides of your neck with the pads of his fingers. Within just a few thrusts you can already start to feel yourself creeping towards the edge of release, having already been denied a few orgasms already. Jake bucks up into you harshly, holding you against him with an immovable grip on your neck and a frim hand on your stomach.

"Are you close already?" He whispers, goosebumps rising in his wake where he spoke against your neck.

You mumble out an unintelligible word of affirmation rocking your hips into his. Snaking a hand behind you, you thread your fingers into his hair and pull, keeping him tight against you. Your knees are screaming from holding your weight and you can imagine Jake feels the same. Almost as though he read your thoughts he pushes you down onto all fours again, twirling your hair into a makeshift ponytail so he has something to hold on to while his other hand sits loosely on your hip.

"Don't you fucking cum, not until I tell you to."

A string of gasps stutters out of you as he pushes into you to a hilt, rolling his hips before retreating and slamming in again. Your entire body is shaking and you're getting impossibly close to coming undone. Without a real thought to it you draw your hand to trace circles over your clit but in response to your actions Jake brings his hand down against your ass, letting go of your hair. Your body jolts forwards and a cry tears through your throat, melting into a moan when he soothes his hand over the spot he hit.

"You liked that didn't you? My dirty girl."

His words go straight to you cunt, the building of your orgasm becoming so unbearable that you couldn't possibly hold it for any longer.

"Jake, please--" You huff out a breathy moan when his thrusts become sharper, falling forward so your chest is against the mattress you grip the sheets to the point that you're knuckles turn white. "--I'm so close, please let me cum, please." The last word is strained, your throat going dry as your eyes well with tears.

Once again fisting your hair he pulls you up so you're on all fours again, back arching, and eyes squeezed shut. "No. Get on your knees." He pulls out of you without another word and jerks himself harshly against your lips once you've pulled yourself to kneel in front of him. "Open up baby."

Laying your tongue out for him you place your hands in your lap and wait patiently as he continues to stroke his cock. Jake's entire body is shuddering, his breathing becoming erratic and with a few more thrusts into his hand he cums all over your tongue. You swallow it down almost greedily, licking a stripe up his dick from base to tip as if to thank him.

"You look so pretty like that." He caresses the side of your face and presses his thumb against your lips.

You look up at him through your lashes and part your lips, allowing him to slide his thumb over your tongue. Closing your lips you run your tongue along the digit and bob your head to imitate a far more obscene act. The throbbing between your legs blazes anew when he rescinds his thumb from your mouth and beckons you further up towards his face by gripping your chin.

"Keep your mouth open."

Once again you lay out your tongue for him, presenting your open mouth by tipping your head back. A shiver runs harshly down your spine when his hold on you tightens and he bends over so his mouth is above yours. You wait with bated breath until finally he gives you a smirk and spits into your mouth. You've tried this once before and the fluttering in your cunt goes to show how much you enjoy it.

You have to work up the courage to speak, to voice your needs. There's a possibility that he will continue to deny you your release but you hold fast and stay hopeful. "I need you to touch me, please."

"And what makes you think you can make such a request?"

Frustration blooms in your chest and mixes with the ache between your thighs. "I've been good! I'll be good, just please--" You hang your head but then peer at him once again through your lashes "--Please Jake."

You can see his resolve cracking, his eyes softening at your pleas. An empathetic tilt of his lips tells you that he's decided to let you off the hook... or so you think.

"Where you do you want me baby?"

You lay on your back and spread your legs for him, your dripping cunt on display. "Here, Jakey, touch me here." Gently circling his wrist, you drag his hand between your legs.

"You want me to touch your pretty pussy baby, you want me to finally make you cum?"

You want to believe that he will, that he'll let you off easy and give in to your requests. Arching your back you tip your head further into the bed and push yourself into his face.

"So eager--" Jake runs a finger through your folds, collecting your slick and bringing it too his lips. "--So sweet."

Your body goes into overdrive, the feeling of his hands on you makes you think you cum from that simple bit of contact. "Please-- Jake please, I need you."

He hums, low and sultry, skating his fingertips along the inside of your thighs. "Look at you, you're trembling, do you want me that bad baby?"

You whine and arch into his touch when he presses the pad of his thumb against your clit. The pressure isn't nearly enough so you grind your hips down onto him but he pulls back. "No, please don't stop." You reach frantically for his hands, pulling him back to you.

"But you sound so pretty begging for me." The look on his face is pure sin as he regards you from his kneeling position. Huffing out a sigh he lifts his hands in surrender "Fine but only because you look so fucking perfect looking at me like that."

You hold your breath as you watch him get down onto his stomach and lower his mouth to curl his tongue against your clit. A sigh falls past your lips as he starts to work against you. He doesn't wait to push two fingers inside of you, clearly he has a set goal in mind. It barely takes anything for you to start pumping your hips against his hand, your fingers threading through his hair to pull him closer.

"Fuck-- I'm--" Your words are cut short when Jake's fingers brush over your g spot which sends your reeling, now teetering on the edge of your orgasm. "Jake--"

Your chest is heaving and you're grinding yourself down against his tongue as hard as you can, chasing your release feverishly. You can feel him smirk against you and it should have registered as a warning sign but your lust-clouded brain didn't fully process it until Jake started to pull away, right when your thighs begin to shake.

"Fuck! Jake no--" Tears are welling in your eyes now, your throat tightening. "Please, please, Jake, I'll be so good--" You sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing at his throat and jawline, hoping to get a reaction. "Please Jake, let me cum, please."

"Shhh baby, shhh." Jake wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap. His hair tickles your neck as he leans into your ear, his voice dropping to a husky tone "Just know, if you disobey me again, it's going to be a whole lot worse than this."

"I'm sorry, Jakey. I swear it won't happen again."

"Good."

Jake shifts beneath you, lifting you up by your hips until he has enough room to drag his dick up to your entrance and let you sink down on him.

"Go on baby, fuck yourself on me, get yourself off."

You don't even register his words, too focused on the feeling of him inside of you but this time on your own terms. He doesn't move beneath you, giving you full control. Jake's hands are on your hips, fingertips digging into you hard enough to bruise.

"You feel so good--" A gasp steals your breath when Jake presses his fingers to your clit and starts to rub tight, slow circles against it. "Faster, please, Jake."

He obliges, circling your sensitive bundle of nerves as quickly as he can while keeping in time with the way you're riding him. You dig your nails into his back and fight the urge to bite down on his shoulder, your orgasm fast approaching.

"I can feel you squeezing around me, are you close baby?"

"So close-- Fuck-- Can I cum, Jakey? Please?" Your words are slurred and whiny, spoken into the tan flesh of his clavicle.

"Go ahead, cum for me."

Throwing your head back and rutting against him as fast and hard as you possibly can your orgasm finally washes over you. Your entire body feels like its flooded with warmth and then cold sparks of pleasure creep up your spine. Your eyes are squeezed shut and a moan is tearing through your chest. With the way your clenching around Jake you know he's not gonna last much longer. Finally he starts to move inside of you, fucking you through your orgasm while trying to reach his own. With a few more quick juts of his hips Jake releasing deep inside of you reaching a standstill once you've both come down.

Wordlessly Jake lifts you off of him and lays you down before standing and scooping you up in his arms. He carries you to the bathroom and sits you on the toilet while he runs the bath. Your bones feel like Jello and your head is heavy. Instead of giving you toilet paper to clean yourself up he get you to move to the edge of the toilet so he can clean up your thighs.

Once the bath is full and you're situated against his chest, his legs framing your own you close your eyes and lay your head back on his shoulder. "I think that was the best orgasm I've ever had."

Taglist | @sarakay-gvf @eeeloraaa @celestialfauna @gretavanfleas @gretavanlace @koifishkoifish @age-of-nyahh @gvfrry @doodle417 @fleetsonfire @joshkiszkas@brokenbellz @thefleetofdreams @angelbabyivy @weightofdreams-gvf @eearevee @dakotadovato @sam-gvf-97 @letswalktogether @alisonwonderland29 @llightmyllovee @hayley1623 @erin-rose-hackl @jakekiszkalovebot @jakeslovehandles @theweightofjake @janelikemaryyy @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @hippiestardust @myownparadise96 @gretavanflowerpower @groggyvanfleet @gvfslayallday @kayleea122 @kdarling1 @heatmyfleet @ascendingtothestarsasone @tripthelightjaketastic @prophetofthedune

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 17

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 17

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3300 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10   Part 11   Part 12   Part 13   Part 14   Part 15  Part 16

Part 17

Billy couldn’t stop gawking at you, wondering how it was possible you grew more beautiful each time he saw you. The red wrap dress you were wearing accentuated all your curves, and it took every bit of willpower he had not to rip it off of you and fuck you senseless right then and there. Unfortunately, he had to behave himself. Caravan was a pretty bouji place that had recently been labelled as one of the hottest restaurants in Manhattan and he had to pull a few strings to get a last-minute reservation for tonight. But seeing the smile on your face when you realized this was where you were dining had been completely worth all the hassle.

As the hostess guided the two of you to your table, he noticed a few assholes at the bar admiring you from afar. Immediately he snaked his arm around your waist to draw you in closer. You were his. If he could he’d pluck out every one of those fuckers’ eyes so they never made the mistake of looking at you again. Better yet, he’d keep you locked behind closed doors. Of course you wouldn’t agree to anything like that because you were too goddamn independent for your own good.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, taking a seat at your designated table.

Billy’s attention returned to your face as he followed suit, his gaze inhaling you in. “You look too hot. Too many assholes staring at you,” he grumbled.

The worried look on your face was replaced with a beaming smile, one that made his cock twitch.

“You’re being ridiculous” you remarked, scanning the menu.

His eyes drifted down to your chest, the swell of your soft, supple breasts just begging to be kissed and licked by him.

“Stop staring at my boobs, Billy,” you chastised even as a small smile graced your lips. “This is a proper first date. You can’t just ogle me like that. You have to behave like a gentleman.”

He quirked his eyebrow. “Sweetheart, I’ve never been that.”

“Well, try,” you ordered.

The waitress came by with the bottle of red wine you’d requested and poured some in both of your glasses. He noticed the redhead giving him a friendly smile, her green eyes lingering on him for a second too long. Fine, yeah, she may have been hot but she wasn’t you. No one was. So while he would have happily slipped her his number in the past, now the idea of being with someone who wasn’t you no longer excited him.

Once she left, he took the opportunity to move a few inches closer to you. What he really wanted was to get on his knees and bury his head between your legs, but something told him eating you out in in the crowded restaurant wouldn’t go over very well with you.

“I think she likes you.”

Hand propped on the back of your chair, he started playing with your hair. “Who?”

“Our waitress. She didn’t look at me once, her eyes were on you the entire time.”

He leaned in, ecstatic at the thought of you acting possessive. Even though you’d confessed to having feelings for him, Billy still worried you were ready to bolt at any moment. To see you jealous meant you genuinely cared and he didn’t have to worry about you leaving him. “She’s not my type. I have my eyes on someone else.”

You made a show of looking around the restaurant. “Oh, is Madani here too?”

“Funny,” he retorted, taking your hand in his.

“Your ginger’s lucky. I’m dressed way too nice or I’d take my knife and stab her with it.”

He smirked. “You’re vicious when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I just don’t like bad service.”

“Bullshit.”

“Billy, you’re hot. You know that. All the women here are checking you out. If I freaked out every time someone did that, I’d have a breakdown.”

He wanted to destroy the fucking world at the thought of someone even looking at you but apparently you were simply ambivalent about him. “So it’s that easy for you? Your brain tells you to turn off a feeling and your heart just does it?” Even to his own ears he sounded bitter. “Guess you’re not all that invested in me.”

Your eyebrow quirked up, apparently surprised by his edgy tone. “Do you want me to go nuts?”

“Just want you to give a damn.”

“You think I don’t?” you snapped. “Every time she looks at you I want to tear her hair out. Even though the rational part of me knows she’s probably just flirting with you because it’s part of her job or she’s hoping for big tips. Or maybe she really does want to fuck you. Either way, I want to punch her across the face. Happy?” You gulped down your wine.

Grinning, he squeezed your hand. “Then why not just tell me that? Why act like you don’t care?”

The agitated expression on your face was replaced with tenderness, your eyes soft. “Just because I don’t have a jealous fit doesn’t mean I don’t care. I just…” You exhaled a sigh, and he sensed this was difficult for you. “I express my emotions differently than you.”

“I noticed. You put on an act while holding everything in.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“But I want you, the real you, not the version everyone else sees.”

“It’s not that easy, Billy.”

He brought your palm to his lips. “I’d never told anyone about my mother.”

“You didn’t tell me either,” you pointed out.

“You found out anyway, and I’m so fucking glad you did. Otherwise I wouldn’t have realized I could be real with you.” He placed a tender kiss on your skin. “I don’t want to hide anything from you, Y/N.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Then tell me about William Rawlins.”

Your request gave him pause, his eyes roaming over your face. He’d taken painstaking measures to keep his partnership with Rawlins a secret yet you’d discovered it. “What do you want to know?”

“He gave you a lot of money.”

“I earned that money,” he said in a defensive tone. “He and I were partners for a while. Then he died.”

“You went to a lot of trouble to hide your connection to him.”

“You found out about it though.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m good at what I do.”

“Yeah, too good,” he muttered. He released your hand, watching you intently. “So what do you want to know?”

You leaned in closer, your voice barely above a whisper. He was momentarily distracted by the sensation of your tits pressed against him but he forced himself to concentrate.

“What happened to Rawlins, did you have anything to do with it?”

Billy took a swig of his wine. “Why do you think that?”

You quirked your eyebrow at him. “Knifed by someone in the parking lot. They never found the guy who did it.”

“He had a lot of enemies,” he pointed out.

“Okay, so maybe I was wrong.”

He studied you for several seconds, trying to decide if he should take the leap or not. “You’re not wrong.”

Realization dawned on your face as the truth set in. “Why did you do it?”

“You sure you want to know?”

“I’m asking, aren’t I?”

So he told you, about Operation Cerberus, his role in it and the money he earned, how he’d eliminated Rawlins a year ago when the prick plotted to take out Frank and his family. To this day Frank didn’t know about Billy’s partnership with Rawlins or how close he came to dying and he intended to keep it that way.

Throughout his confession his eyes were glued to your face, gauging your reactions. The part of him determined to do anything to be a success, the one who didn’t let society’s morals get in the way of his ambitions, would never be accepted by his closest friends. Despite the myriad of reasons to have kept that side of himself hidden, he didn’t want to do that with you. Because as risky as it was to be so open with you, it was also exhilarating. There was no one in this world he’d ever been this honest with and that kind of intense connection with you was addictive. He wanted you to know everything about him, all of the dark and vicious thoughts that ran through his head, the burning ambition that kept pushing him forward. He wanted you to know him inside and out and he wanted the same from you.

Before he could prod you to speak your mind the server came by with your dishes, setting your meals on the table. The redhead took her time, all the whilst your gaze was focused on the table, avoiding his. Billy’s heart started to pound in his chest, he was suddenly filled with doubt. Had he made a mistake in telling you the truth? Did he just completely fuck this up? Every second the goddamn redhead lingered at the table felt like an eternity when all he wanted was to shake you out of your stupor.

The second the server left, he moved in on you. “Are you gonna say something?”

You finally looked at him, your forehead burrowed. “We need to do a better job of hiding your history with Rawlins. I found it, that means someone else can too.”

“You gonna help me with that?”

You shook your head ‘yes’. “Yeah, I have to. You need me.”

“What I did doesn’t bother you?”

You exhaled a heavy sigh. “Of course it does, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You’ve seen me at my worst and you didn’t judge me. I won’t do that to you either. Besides, when the universe deals you a shitty hand you’ve got to find other ways to even out your odds.”

A strange feeling of warmth flooded over him, compelling him to angle forward and kiss you on the lips.

You pulled away a second later, smiling at him as you rubbed the corner of his mouth. “This lipstick isn’t kiss-proof.”

“I don’t care.” Wicked visions of you flashed through his mind. Your bold red lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him off the way he liked it. His cum spread over your tits, your neck, your lips. The taste of your sweet, delicious cunt on his tongue as he fucked you with his mouth. The heat of your tongue against his as he rammed into you over and over-

“Stop looking at me like that,” you warned.

“Then stop looking so hot,” he snarked.

You smiled, biting down on your bottom lip.

It blew his mind how sweet and shy you were when he paid you compliments, like you didn’t expect that from him. Obviously he needed to fix that, because you deserved to know how insanely beautiful you were all the time.

“Has Anvil been okay without Rawlins?” you asked, taking a bite out of your butternut squash ravioli.

Swallowing his steak, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “It was tough for a while but we’ve been doing pretty well the last few months.”

“You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished, Billy. You took a big risk going into business for yourself and you made it work. That’s amazing. I could never do that.”

Billy’s insides radiated with happiness. Other than Curtis and Frank he never really had people who genuinely believed in him so to have you cheering him on was exalting. Especially considering you were great at what you did and he had so much respect for you.

He poured himself and you more wine before reaching for your hand again. “I think you could. You’d make a shitload of money if you freelanced.”

You shook your head ‘no’. “No way, I’m too much of a coward to take a risk like that.” You took a sip of your wine. “Plus I get to go to Paris for work.”

“Or you could go to Paris on vacation and not work.”

“Then I’d have to pay for it,” you pointed out, grinning. “When you grow up the way I did, you learn to appreciate free things.”

Your enthusiasm was infectious, he couldn’t hep but smile back. A part of him was hoping this would be the perfect opening for you to talk more about your childhood, about everything you went through, because he desperately wanted you to trust him as much as he trusted you with his secrets.

“I’ll be there for two weeks,” you continued, oblivious to his disappointment. “We’re going to scout out locations for the new branch and-”

“We?” Billy interjected.

You cast him a quick glance. “Roger’s coming with me on the trip.”

The jealousy that struck him felt like a swift kick to his gut. Images of you and that goddamn bastard traipsing around and enjoying romantic date nights in Paris assaulted his mind. Agitated, he pulled his hand from yours. “I bet that fucker can’t wait to be alone with you.”

“Billy, come on. You can’t be serious.”

“How would you feel if I took off with someone who wanted to fuck me?”

“First of all, he doesn’t want me.”

His jaw clenched with frustration as he glared at you. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s thought about fucking you.”

“Even if he does, I don’t want him.” You reached out to cup his face, your voice so soft and tender in your attempts to placate him that he momentarily forgot how upset he was. “You really think I’d jeopardize what we have for a fling with Roger? I wouldn’t do that.”

“Then don’t go. Turn him down.”

Irritation flickered over your face, he could tell you were done coddling him. “Billy, you have no right to ask me that. I’d never interfere with your work.”

Underneath all that jealousy he knew you were right. As much as he despised the idea of you going away to Paris with another guy, he couldn’t demand that you not go on work trips. If you did that to him, it would annoy the fuck out of him. Yet despite his rational side recognizing he was asking for too much, he couldn’t help but feel bitter. “That asshole’s gonna make a move on you, I know it.”

“What if he does? What do you think is gonna happen?”

Hs eyes met yours, urgently seeking some kind of validation from you. “You tell me.”

“Do you think I’m going to sleep with him?”

He flinched. “Don’t talk about fucking another guy, please. You’re gonna make me lose my appetite.”

You took his hand and placed it over your left breast, probably to distract him from all the disgusting images that were running through his brain. “I wanted you so badly and even then it took me like a month to fuck you. Trust me, I’m not going to sleep with him when I’m not even attracted to him.”

Spotting the earnestness in your eyes, the knot in his stomach finally loosened. Roger may have had a hard-on for you but Billy knew you felt nothing for the fucker. He’d noticed that even at the night of the gala. So that meant he had to trust you, there was no reason not to. “Call me every night when you’re there,” he grumbled.

“Every night? You’re probably going to start blocking my calls,” you laughed.

He booped your nose. “Every. Fucking. Night.”

You beamed. “Fine.” A wicked glint flashed in your eyes, a seductive smile on your lips as you slowly moved his hand lower, his fingers now on your nipple. “Hey, just ‘cause you’re not there with me doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.”

He stroked your nipple over the fabric of your dress, enjoying how the nub hardened under his touch, the way your breath hitched in your throat when he continued his ministrations. With his other hand he tucked your hair behind your ear, whispering to you. “Phone sex is alright, but nothing beats this.” His tongue curved along the shell of your ear, and you trembled against him. “Right?”

The waitress seemed to come out of nowhere this time to ask how your meals were, and you jumped back. Disappointed, he sighed.

“Food was great. Thank you,” you replied, smiling stiffly at the redhead.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Privacy would be great,” Billy muttered.                                                            

You kicked him under the table. “Dessert menu?”

“Sure. I’ll bring it right over,” the waitress said, taking your plates away.  

“I’ll give you all the sugar you want once we get outta here,” he murmured seductively, caressing your thigh.

You giggled, rolling your eyes. “That’s a terrible line!” You took his hand and removed it from your thigh. “Billy, I’m not sleeping with you tonight.”

“Why not?”                                                      

“Because it’s our first date and I don’t put out on the first date.”

“Now that’s a terrible line,” he fired back, mimicking your earlier tone.

“Also, we already had sex this morning.”

“So? I’m greedy. I can’t get enough of you.” There was that shy smile of yours again, and he reached out to give you a sweet peck on the cheek. “You blush every time I tease you.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, it’s adorable.”

Your cheeks grew even more red. “I’m not used to it from you. A part of me still thinks you’re bullshitting me.”

Billy stiffened. “Really?”

“I know you’re not playing me,” you reassured. “It’s on me, not you. I just have a hard time accepting when good things happen.”

The waitress came by with the dessert menu. He briefly glanced at it before ordering a slice of pecan pie while you ordered a piece of chocolate cake.

As soon as the redhead left, he broached the topic with you again. “I’m not gonna hurt you, babe. You have to believe that.”

You didn’t look at him, your eyes fixed somewhere on his chest. “I do. You were so pissed off at me last night. I honestly expected you to hit me because you were so angry. But you didn’t.”

It made him sick to his stomach that you actually thought him capable of hitting you. It hadn’t even occurred to him that you would worry about that, but of course you would. With your childhood it made perfect sense, he was just a fucking idiot who hadn’t realized how much it still impacted you. “I’m never gonna lay a hand on you. I swear.” His eyes locked with yours, hoping you can sense how much he meant those words.

“I believe you.”

His voice was insistent, his gaze boring into you. “Why did you think I would?”

Your eyes wavered from his eyes to his lips for a long time, the atmosphere thick with tension. Your facial expressions ran the gamut of painful emotions, from uncertainty to fear to sheer panic.

It finally sank in that maybe the reason you were keeping the truth from him had noting to do with if you trusted him or not. Maybe you didn’t want to be assaulted by memories from the past that caused you so much pain. The last thing he wanted was for you to experience that hell again. Regretting his demanding tone, his hands caressed down the length of your arms. “You don’t have to tell me, It’s okay.”

Your eyes brimmed with aching vulnerability as you looked up at him. “I want to… I just… give me some time, okay?” You pressed your lips against his, giving him the softest, sweetest kiss. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight for so long, I don’t want to ruin it, you know?”

His heart felt full, his mind reeling with wonderment at the thought of you truly reciprocating his feelings. His arms wrapped around you as you sank into him, burying your face in his chest. His fingers stroked the back of your hair, murmuring soft, soothing words to you. Somewhere in the distance he heard the server’s voice trying to interject, but he didn’t give a damn.  He was yours and you were his and nothing was going to ruin that. Nothing.

Part 18

A/N - I realize not much happened in this chapter but I just reallly wanted to write a dialogue heavy part where they simply get to know and enjoy each other. I think they’ve earned some fluff. LOL.

As always, thank you for your kind words of encouragement. Please let me know your thoughts.

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[mossy-rainfrog]

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Martin and Jon in season 1 of the Magnus Archives. Martin is seen out in the archives hallway, through the doorway to Jon’s office. Martin a fat Black man with short coily hair, round glasses, and snake bite lip piercings. He wears a blue sweater over a white collared shirt, and carries a brown satchel with him. Martin is looking over his shoulder with interest as he walks into work, and in a smaller panel to the side, we see Jon watching him with wide eyes. Jon is a thin Persian person with long greying hair tied back in a low bun, and rectangular glasses. He wears a red button down underneath a brown jacket, and is seated at the desk in his office. He stares out at Martin, looking flustered. There are small lines by Martin’s mouth indicating the piercings, and there are exclamation marks by Jon’s head indicating his reaction. End ID.]

I found an old fic in my notes about Martin dressing alt/punk outside of work and accidentally leaving on a small indicator of his usual fashion when he comes into the archives and I just. had to bring it back. Also, because I am still fond of it, please enjoy the aforementioned fic🥰:

Jon is having a difficult morning, to say the least. He had believed that coming into work an entire hour early would provide him with ample time to get a head start on today’s organizing, but that has decidedly not been case. He’s already had to take the statements of two utterly ridiculous liars who could barely keep the grins off of their faces as they recounted their ludicrous tale, and then listen to Elias subsequently dress down his so-called ‘attitude towards patrons’ for nearly half an hour, and suffice it to say, he would really like to get started on something that is actually worth his time.

He dislikes settling down with the more... difficult statements before all of his colleagues arrive, an attempt to keep them from interrupting his recordings to greet him, so once he’s finished his other menial tasks, he finds himself simply sitting and waiting for the ensemble of his assistants to arrive.

Tim and Sasha are the first - entering together as usual after having stopped for coffee on the way in - but Martin is slow to follow, taking nearly another fifteen minutes to arrive. It’s nearly ten past seven at that point, and once Jon hears Martin’s steps coming towards his office, he has half a mind to give the man yet another lecture on punctuality and work ethic. He gets as far enough as bracing his hands on the table to stand up, and then Martin appears in the doorway to his office, and he realizes something strikingly different about his appearance.

That is to say, Jon’s whole world narrows down very suddenly to the little black studs decorating the space underneath his bottom lip.

He’s staring, he knows he is, but Martin is busy looking down the hall for the moment, so Jon doesn’t force himself to tear his eyes away just yet. How long has he had his lip pierced, Jon wonders? Has it been there the whole time he’s known him? Has he only recently gotten it done? How? Why?

It’s hard to imagine Martin - soft, unassuming Martin who is far too large for the amount of space he crams himself into, always slouching, always pulling himself inwards as if he can make himself disappear - dressing in any way other than soft sweaters and slacks, but if Jon’s honest, he’s never actually seen the man outside of work. He has no idea how Martin chooses to dress himself when out from under the Institute’s rigid dress code, and this tiny window he’s been provided with is making him maddeningly curious.

He’s not... he doesn’t have feelings for Martin, aside from a general annoyance, occasionally marked with curiosity. He’s a professional, for God’s sake, not to mention that Martin’s very existence as a given is like a grain of sand in his eye, rubbing and irritating. Now he cuts clean through without even noticing. Jon itches to know more.

“Jon?” Martin’s voice tears him from his thoughts. “Is something wrong?”

Oh, shit. Jon can feel his gaze heat up as if he’s done something horribly wrong - how embarrassing that he can’t even keep a blush off of his face - but he still forces himself to open his mouth and stutter out an excuse. He means to remark on one of Martin’s missing reports, or the fact that he’s coming in nine minutes late, but what ends up leaving his mouth is; “Your lip is pierced.”

Just a sentence, not a question. He thinks he’s positively beet red. Martin freezes, the tips of his ears darkening visibly against his brown skin as his hand shoots to his mouth and his eyes widen.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I must have forgotten to take them out,” the poor man looks like he’s about to panic as he whips his gaze around as if to see if anyone else has noticed. “Don’t tell Elias, please, I’ve seen how he gets after Tim for the dress code, and there is no way, I mean no way—”

“Oh, n-no, it’s- I- it’s fine, really,” Jon raises his hands in defense as Martin rambles, for some reason inclined to reassure the man. “I won’t- I’m not- I’m not going to tell him.”

Martin hesitates, wringing his hands, apologies visible on every pore of his face. “I- Thank you. I’ll- I’ll go take it off. Christ, that’s embarrassing.”

“Only if you want,” Jon shrugs, which is definitely not the correct thing for him to say as a boss, and it definitely comes out a little gentler than he intends it to, and Jon is three seconds from screaming if he can’t figure out how to make himself react normally to this. It’s a non-traditional piercing in an academic institute of research; it’s against the rules, however dated they may be, and further than that, there is no reason for it to completely undo his composure the way that it has. He tries to get a hold of himself. “I-I mean, that’s likely for the best.”

Martin is giving him a funny look - probably a response to seeing the whole spectrum of human emotions flash across Jon’s face in a millisecond - but he still nods and says: “Sorry again. Thank you,” and then disappears down the corridor.

Jon immediately buries his face in his hands and sighs.

What is wrong with him? For God’s sake, he’s just seen Martin with a lip piercing, it’s not like he’s witnessed the man undressed. Besides, he works in an archive where he has to read statements about the intricacies of monsters that rip off people’s skin and suchlike every day, he should know how to keep his composure better than this. He should just move on with his day and focus without a problem, just like he does every morning.

Except, his mind keeps wandering back to it; the way the little studs had followed the shape of his mouth, the way they had quirked up when he flashed one of his nervous smiles, the way Jon is still desperately curious about what brought him to get them done, and also what it might feel like to brush a thumb, or perhaps even his lips over them.

Jon sits up so fast his head actually smacks against an open filing cabinet behind him. His mind is too busy reeling to notice the ache that fills his head, and he stares straight ahead with wide eyes and utterly scorching cheeks. Absolutely not. He absolutely did not just think about kissing Martin Blackwood. that was- that would be...

He blinks hard, clears his throat. It doesn’t matter what that was. He’s decidedly not interested in Martin Blackwood romantically, or in any other capacity given his truly ridiculous academic competence and his obnoxious habit of interrupting seemingly every stable thing Jon has in his life. He crushes the feeling down hard, locks it up in a box, stuffs it down under his lowest two ribs, and resolves himself never to open it again.

He is not going to keep thinking about this all day. He has work to do, and if something as simple as a pair of metal studs can distract him this badly, then he needs to make absolutely certain it doesn’t happen again.

He tells himself he’s not disappointed when he sees Martin without the piercings later that day.

[britishassistant]

What happens if a new villain comes to town and starts tearing shit up? Like a new rival shows up, falls in love with yuu, and kidnaps them before enacting a huge take over the city scheme, will the NRC and RSA finally come together for the same goal? Or would it lead to chaotic in-fighting in their individual attempts to rescue the reporter and save the city/stop this jerk face from showing them up only for yuu to break out just so they can knock them all upside the head?

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

“It’s so simple, love.” The villain coos, one hand cupping Yuu’s chin gently to tilt their face up, “Just accept my proposal, and we won’t need to have any nasty accidents where you and the tarmac down there have a...terminal disagreement.”

Yuu glances down at the drop from where they’ve been “tied” to the top of the skyscraper by the metal beams that the supervillain bent around their body like they were rubber. They think they can see a flock of pigeons flapping by below them. “That’s your idea of a threat? Really? Because I’ve heard worse over breakfast. Sorry, but I really don’t think we have the right chemistry to accept marriage to the likes of you.”

The villain pouts, leaning against the tip of the building as if they were a pair of people chatting on the streets far below, and not one hapless captive tied to an antenna and their captor floating with nary a second thought in midair. “Oh c’mon now love. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be—you know that I could do far better with your Daddy’s little league than any of those second-rate bozos crowding around you.”

The reporter’s gaze sharpens, the corner of their mouth curling up in a snarl. “Don’t. Refer to them. Like that. They’re each seven times the supervillain you are, at least. Besides, I’d rather be turned into pancake mix on the pavement than do anything that could advance that man’s little projects.”

The villain tuts, coiffed hair ruffled by the breeze as he leans in far closer than Yuu is comfortable with. “Don’t play hard to get, love. So you’ve got Daddy issues, who doesn’t? It’s no reason to get in the way of progress. Maybe you’ll change your mind if I show you exactly what I can offer...”

Yuu recoils as the villain’s tongue forces its way into their mouth when their lips collide with all the force of a car crash, an invasive writhing thing that makes them gag at how far it pushes in as the villain hums greedily at their taste.

And one that the reporter swiftly brings their teeth down on.

Hard.

“FUCK! Ugh—you foul little bitch!!”

The backhand jars the reporter’s skull even as they brace for it, cutting the inside of their mouth and leaving them worried that if they try spitting out the blood gathering there, they’ll lose a tooth along with it.

The villain huffs, one hand carding through his ruffled hair. His tongue is already whole and unblemished, the last indents of their teeth healing as the reporter watches. “I didn’t want to do this, you know. I would’ve gladly taken you to the altar, and had you screaming in our wedding bed. I could’ve made you happy, if you’d just do what you’re told.”

Yuu sneers. “Frankly, I can’t imagine anything more boring.”

They take cold comfort in the fury that burns in the supervillain’s eyes at that.

“Fine. Fine.” The villain floats away, his eyes glowing that same bright red that melted through the wall to Yuu’s bedroom when they were first taken. “I was prepared to do this the nice way. I wanted to do this the nice way. But if you’re going to be such a little bitch about it, then I can always rely on the old fashioned method of succession.”

The laser beams swipe through the block of abandoned offices four stories below where the reporter is tied up.

The top of the building wavers, then begins to crumble forwards.

The villain says something else, probably something mocking and challenging them to get out of this mess because that’s the kind of cliche line that’s always used here, but Yuu can’t hear him over the whistle of the wind in their ears and the scream torn from their throat as they plummet.

They try frantically tug their arms free as their legs are pulled upwards by gravity, try their damndest to squirm free, but it’s no use, they’re not The Prefect right now, don’t even have the fedora on them, they’re Yuu, just Yuu, just helpless reporter Yuu, who can’t break steel beams with their pathetic powerless normal person strength, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, they’re going to die, oh Great Seven, they’re going to die—!

“KING'S ROAR!!!”

There’s a discombobulating moment of freefall as the metal and concrete around them disintegrates into sand.

Then a strong, wiry arm loops around their waist and they’re pinned to a carpet as their rapid descent gradually slows to a stop in midair.

“Need a lift?” They can’t see Snake Charmer’s eyebrows through the mask, but they get the feeling one of them is raised in a wry fashion as he smirks at them.

The reporter lets out a hysterical, shaky laugh that only narrowly escapes becoming a sob, trembling hands seizing onto the two supervillains like they’re lifelines. “Wh-what took y-you so long? Did you ge-get held up in traffic?”

King grumbles, flicking their temple gently as Water Boy laughs gleefully from where he’s steering the carpet. “You could show a little more gratitude, herbivore. Do you know how hard it was to evade all the goody-two-shoes on the way here to save your ass?”

Yuu’s about to reply, when they catch a movement above them out of the corner of their eye.

“INCOMING!!”

Water Boy jerks the flying carpet to the side just in time for the villain to plunge past them fist-first, close enough to see his teeth bared in a furious snarl.

“DRIVE!!” Snake Charmer screams at his lieutenant above the rushing wind as the villain rises back up to try his luck again. Water Boy presses the corners of the carpet forwards and they go into a rollercoaster dive that makes the reporter’s stomach roil in protest.

King unleashes his powers on the two buildings behind them, disintegrating the foundations in hopes that the tonnes of concrete and rebar would be enough to slow the flying brick chasing them. The villain just bursts through the obstacles with nary a broken sweat, and speeds up to the point where Water Boy has to turn the carpet upside down so they don’t get knocked out of the sky.

“Where the fuck is that computer junkie?!?” King yells at Snake Charmer as they draw dangerously close to the road below. “He was supposed to be here hours ago!!”

“How am I supposed to know?!” They can hear Snake Charmer’s heartbeat hammer in his chest from where he’s pinning them to the vehicle in the absence of a seatbelt. “It was the conman who was meant to give him the si—”

Yuu can barely scream a warning in time as the villain looms behind Leona’s head, eyes glowing red and ready.

A rush of flying metal harpies collide with the bastard’s face, effectively pinning him in midair as he struggles to destroy the thousands-strong swarm that obstructs his path to them.

“OPEN FIRE!!” Comes Hermes’ high-pitched cry as a blue beam shoots past them at the center of the robotic maelstrom.

A pair of red lasers rocket out to meet it, almost seeming as though it could push Ortho’s assault back—!

A white-hot streak of lightening descends from the formerly clear sky to where the villain was pinned, disrupting the red eye lasers and allowing Hermes’ beam to make contact.

There’s a hideous scream and the stench of burnt meat.

“We’re coming in too fast!!” Water Boy yells, tugging on the carpet’s tassels until they’re almost vertical. “Ja—I, I don’t know if we’ll slow down in time!!”

Yuu barely hears the curses the other two occupants spit, lunging to try and cover as much of them as they can with their body. Even if they crash, if Yuu can just absorb most of the shock of the landing—!

Small pinpricks of pain latch onto their scalp, their pajamas, the carpet and supervillains beneath them, hundreds of small beating appendages smacking them all in the face as the carpet’s rapid descent slows incrementally.

“Oh boys~?”

Four sets of strong hands seize the front of the carpet, their owners grunting as they attempt to force the carpet’s stop through sheer force. Of course, the continued existence of Newton’s Third Law combined with the reporter’s precarious shielding position means that though the carpet experiences sudden stop, Yuu keeps going at the same high speed that will ensure serious injury once they hit the tarmac.

Or it would do, if they didn’t collide with a solid chest and waiting pair of arms first.

The reporter finds themselves cradled in a nearly crushing grip, their catcher muttering “child of man, child of man,” into the top of their head and a warm thumb swipes over the rapidly darkening bruise on their cheek. The wind picks up around them alarmingly, whipping into a gale.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m okay.” Yuu reaches up to pat Tsunotaro’s head soothingly. “See? Just a few scrapes and a little scare. Give me an ice pack and a shower and I’ll be right as rain.”

Tsunotaro doesn’t look very convinced, but at least the wind drops to more of a strong breeze.

“Oi, let ‘em down, you dumb lizard.” King growls behind the reporter, the rings on his tail clattering as it swishes irritably. “We did all the work of saving them, you don’t get to take the rewards.”

Tsunotaro clutches them closer, getting that stubborn look in his eyes that makes Yuu want to groan in exasperation. “No.”

“Why you—!”

“Now, now children, the world works in mysterious ways.” Batman beams. “I’ve always found destiny draws those it finds most suitable together.”

The reporter rolls their eyes as King snarls in response to that remark and Snake Charmer mutters, “I didn’t know ‘destiny’ was what you called interfering old fools.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Snake Charmer climbs off the carpet and straightens his headscarf. “What’s next?”

There’s a crash as the mass of robots pinning the singed villain about three blocks down the street begins to shift, however unwillingly.

“‘Kay, the ‘save the princess’ team barely cleared the parameters for their part of the mission.” Charon’s floating tablet drifts forward, the sounds of frantic tapping on a keyboard almost drowning out his voice. “Now it’s time for the ‘aggro’ and ‘debuff’ teams to move in, Tsuntaro-sshi, Royal-sshi.”

“Understood. I’ll leave the coordinating of the others to you, Charon.” Royal Flush looks up and raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the tall fae. “Well? Are you coming?”

Yuu could almost swear they hear a small grumble as Tsunotaro finally lets them down out of his grasp. He runs his thumb over their injured cheek one last time. “Sebek, Silver. Defend the reporter as you would me.”

“Yes, Tsunotaro-sama!” The two of them chorus.

Royal Flush shakes his head, then reaches out and squeezes Yuu’s hand once. “If anything happens, Three of Clovers and Howl-san will get you somewhere safe. But this shouldn’t take long.”

“Oi, don’t presume to give orders to my minion, Flush.” King growls, inserting himself bodily between the two of them. His mouth curls up in a smirk as he places a proprietary hand on top of their head. “Besides, I’ll be here, won’t I?”

Royal Flush and Tsunotaro narrow their eyes at him, but their attention is claimed by the sound of metal crashing down the street as the villain shrugs off the rubble, the burns on his arms and face healing rapidly as they watch. His eyes flicker over their motley group, before settling on Yuu with laser-precision.

It’s only the arrow that flies into his shoulder, combined with a second lightening bolt striking him from the blue that keeps that metaphor from becoming literal.

Yuu chokes a little at the pressure on their pajama shirt collar as they’re dragged out of the line of fire. From where they’re crouched behind a car, they can see Tsunotaro and Hermes throwing almost everything he’s got as the bastard, while Royal tries to close the distance without ending up attacked himself. They also catch a glimpse of who they think is Leviathan silently gliding closer through the alleys on the far side of the street.

But the villain just won’t stop getting back up. Despite the fact that anyone sane would’ve given up the moment the green flames were broken out, he keeps coming, no matter how many times he gets thrown back.

And he’s clearly getting closer to the reporter he so desperately wants to kill.

“Now what?” Yuu asks, barely able to hear themselves think over the worried growl rumbling from Jack’s chest.

Charon’s muttering to himself as more of his robots fly by overhead. “Need to pin down the rate of regen, if we can get that and surpass it so the ‘debuff’ team can do their thing before the second wave gets here, but what is it?”

The reporter blinks. Well, taking into account the insult, and the backhand...

“He was able to heal his tongue about...four, maybe five seconds after I’d bitten through it? That’s only a rough estimate though, it may’ve been shorter.” They murmur.

The area around them goes very quiet.

“B-bitten through...?” Water Boy asks, hand coming up to his own mouth with a wince.

Yuu scowls. “That creep put it in my mouth when I did not ask him to. Ugh, I would’ve gone for his balls too, but the metal didn’t let me lift my legs that far.”

They huff for a moment at the unfairness of it. Then, “King, stop grinning at me like that.”

“Like what herbivore?” His tone is the picture of innocence, even if the way he’s eying them is most decidedly not.

Snake Charmer ‘accidentally’ kicks him in the shin as the sound of frantic typing erupts from the tablet again. “Setting the Erinyes to follow up on Ortho’s and Tsunotaro-sshi’s attacks within a three point five second time frame...fwe he he he, let’s see how that mob likes this!”

With the clack of what sounds like an enter key, the robots above them begin divebombing the villain in sequence, deliberately targeting the parts of him injured by Tsunotaro and Hermes’ blows.

One of them sacrifices itself in a kamikaze dive that leaves a bleeding scratch on his arm.

The villain roars, the force of his fury almost knocking them over even with how far away their little group is crouched, turning the lasers on every robot within his line of sight.

Of course, this means he stops paying attention to the three supervillains who have been steadily making their way towards him.

“FAIREST ONE OF ALL!”

“IT’S A DEAL!”

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!”

The powers hit the villain one after another, his lasers sputtering out with a pained scream. The scratch on his arm doesn’t start healing. Neither does the gash he gets across his face when Poison Queen roundhouse kicks him away with those stilettos of his.

“Was that it?” Leviathan says, his careless facade somewhat ruined by the fact that he wobbles as he begins to levitate. “I must confess I don’t understand what all the tr-trouble was.”

A low whistle by their ear makes Yuu jump. “The bosses can be scary when they wanna be. Remind me never to piss off those three at once.”

The reporter look up to see Ace and Floyd standing behind them. “Ace, wha—where have you been?!”

Floyd giggles and Ace shoots them an evil grin as they chorus, “Sending out party invites~”

Yuu blinks and tries to puzzle out this cryptic phrase, but their attention is swiftly drawn back to the scene of the battle at the sound of manic, unhinged laughter.

“You think you’ve won? You think something like this will stop me?!” The villain cackles, eyes wild and beginning to grow red again despite the way his body tenses and the collar around his neck starts to buckle. “You think that second-rate half-hearted hacks like you can stop someone like me?!? I am your superior!! You all will bend the knee once I snap that ungrateful little bitch’s neck and take my rightful place as head of the League!!! I’ll decimate every last one of those pathetic, moronic heroes who pollute this city like a fungus!! And then, oh , and then I’ll make every last one of you who thought they could get away with this pitiable attempt to stop me—”

“Us? Here to stop you?” Poison Queen tilts his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re supervillains.”

“Stopping the likes of you.” Leviathan proclaims triumphantly, “Is their job.”

The villain stops.

The villain turns.

Over half the top heroes of the Royal Sword Association lead here by the minions meet his gaze.

“Hello.” Niko Niko Neko says with a wide grin.

Yuu isn’t close enough to hear if the villain whimpers, but they almost wish they were.

Almost.

[tfwlawyers]

Not me singlehandedly going through your entire parent trap au I’m so invested even though like half of the posts are from 2015 💀

THESE THINGS HAPPEN I get such a kick out of knowing this au is still making its rounds though 😭😭

and yk what just because I know I’m never going to do anything else with this, have a 3.5k attempted scramble of fic for this au I tried writing back also in 2015. i was even less of a writer back then than I am now so it’s absolutely terrible but have at thee

“Oh, wait...” Trucy winced and tapped her earring. Apollo’s eyes widened in realization. “Looks like we have one more thing to do tonight - it’ll be super quick, I promise.”

“Oh no,” Apollo said, visibly paling, “there’s no way you’re doing that to me-”

“Then cutting my hair was a total waste,” Trucy huffed, tugging at a newly shorn lock, “because there’s no way I can go to camp with pierced ears and come home without. Come on, Polly, where’s your sense of adventure? It’s just one little pinch!”

“Just one?” he asked hesitantly, eyes now trained on the sharp needle laying on the table.

Trucy paused. “Well... I guess it’s technically two. I really only wear the one earring, but both my ears are pierced.”

Apollo sighed. “Great.”

“Nah, I got this,” Trucy said, grinning toothily. “I went with Aunt Maya when she wanted to get hers pierced, even though she chickened out at the last second.” She picked up the needle and a book of matches from the table, eyes glinting. “I had to get mine repierced because of infection the first time too. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

-

“Put that apple slice back,” Apollo said, narrowing his eyes at the piece of fruit in Trucy’s hands. “They’re acidic, I don’t need that anywhere near me and oh God you’re really going to shove a piece of metal into my ear, aren’t you-”

-

“You sure I look okay?” he asked, patting down the skirt. He squinted down at the stark white boots he’d thankfully fit into. “I’m terrified to walk in these, they look like death traps -”

“Which is why we’re practicing,” Trucy said primly, wiping her hands on a gel-stained rag. She still didn’t quite have a grasp on the correct ratio of product to actual hair, but she was much better than when they had started five weeks ago. “Now, walk towards me.”

-

“One last thing, I guess,” Apollo said, removing his bracelet and handing it to Trucy, watching as she carefully slid it on. He rubbed his now bare wrist absentmindedly, feeling strangely naked without it.

“So... this is really it. We’re really doing this.”

“We’re really doing this,” Trucy confirmed, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. For all her apparent enthusiasm, she looked as nervous as he felt. The studs in her ears reflected the morning light.

“Give papa a hug for me,” he said, smiling weakly.

“Give daddy one for me too,” she said.

They hesitated a moment more before Trucy threw her arms around her brother’s shoulders. Apollo’s arms immediately snaked around her waist, drawing her in tight. They clung to each other, silently willing and praying this was somehow going to all work out - that they wouldn’t just to get to meet their other parent, that they wouldn’t only get a few short weeks with the other father they hadn’t even known had existed, but that they could find some way to reconcile the two, that they wouldn’t have to lose anyone across the wide expanse of the Atlantic ever again.

-

“You’ve had your ears pierced,” he said almost absently, cradling her head between his hands and gently turning her neck back and forth to better view the studs. He clicked his tongue. Trucy felt her heart sink.

“Do you... hate them?” she asked tentatively.

Edgeworth’s eyes snapped to hers. They were the same soft gray color as the paint Daddy always kept too much of around the house. “On the contrary - I find they suit you incredibly well. Please tell me you didn’t get an infection.”

Her face split into a wide smile.

-

Apollo thumbed through a stack of canvases that had been shoved into a corner. There was a thin layer of dust of them; if he had to guess, he’d say they hadn’t been disturbed for at least three months - not a particularly long stretch of time, all things considered. They were clearly less polished works, lacking the technical skill and attention to detail that made Phoenix Wright a name to be reckoned with in the art community, but they were still beautiful in their own way. Paintings of vineyards and what looked like London, towering skyscrapers and calm seas and -

His father.

Apollo blinked.

The portrait of Miles Edgeworth drawn in rich oils did not blink back. Nor did the three that followed.

-

“There were a lot of paintings of the same person in daddy’s works. Some guy with grey hair,” Apollo said, struggling for nonchalance.

Maya’s grip on the mixing bowl faltered. “Is that so,” she said carefully.

“Was he one of daddy’s favorite models or something he just never told me about?”

Maya pursed her lips and continued stirring with a newfound vigor. “You could say that.”

-

“You’re not Apollo?” he asked, voice thick. “You’re Trucy?”

She smiled weakly. “That would be correct.” One strand of hair fell lank across her forehead - how did I not notice, Apollo hasn’t used nearly that much gel in years - and he absentmindedly tucked it behind her ear. He felt her press into the warmth of his hand, as if she were afraid he might suddenly vanish across the Atlantic again.

“I hope you don’t - I hope you don’t hate me,” she said, voice beginning to waver, “it’s just that Polly and I met at the camp and the whole thing sort of just spilled out. I’ve wanted to see you for so long, and Polly felt exactly the same way about Daddy, so we sort of just - just switched lives and hoped it wouldn’t take you so soon to notice. I really hope you don’t hate me, because I’ve wanted to meet you basically my whole life and I hope that maybe one day you can love me for me and not Polly and -” (this is ALL from movie tho so mix this up)

Edgeworth’s left hand came to cradle the rest of Trucy’s face, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Oh, my dear,” he said, cautiously tugging her forward. She came willingly, all but sprawling across his chest, tucking her head underneath his chin and wrapping her arms around his middle. “I’ve loved you since the day you came to me,” he whispered into her hair, blinking away the beginnings of tears he felt gathering at the corner of his eyes. He felt her tighten her hold and he did the same.

-

He poured himself a thumbnail of scotch, perfectly content to pretend he didn’t have tickets to a plane back to a state he had vowed never to set foot in again departing in less than four hours. “He was rather handsome,” he found himself admitting, absentmindedly swirling the glass and taking a sip. He paused, staring at nothing and mumbling to himself, “...had the most crooked smile. Always made me weak at the knees.”

“What was that, sir?”

Edgeworth snapped his attention back to the other man; he’d nearly forgotten Gumshoe was even in the room. “Nothing, nothing, never mind, have you seen the tickets?”

Gumshoe shrugged. That was Trucy’s cue.

“Almost ready, papa?” she asked, stepping smoothly into the room from her hiding place behind the thick wooden door. Edgeworth looked just as wild-eyed as she’d been hoping.

“Yes, of course, I’m almost finished packing -”

She didn’t even have to look at his still mostly bare suitcase to know he was lying.

“ -and you did tell your father we were coming, didn’t you?” he finished, placing his drink on a nearby dresser and running his fingers shakily through his hair.

“Absolutely,” Trucy promised.

“Ah,” Edgeworth said, fiddling with his waistcoat buttons. They looked like they’d been polished recently.

“Liar,” Gumshoe leaned down to whisper. She shushed him.

-

“Might I suggest we continue this little gathering inside,” Maya said, already beginning to shepherd the twins - the twins, she was going to need another vacation just to process the fact that they were together again - into the room. She twisted back around to look at Edgeworth, still shoving Apollo (that was Apollo, right?) forward. “Hi,” she began again, offering a free hand, “you probably don’t remember me -”

“Maya!” he interrupted, smiling warmly and bending to kiss her chastely on the cheek. His breath was sour with vodka and his glasses clunked awkwardly against her face. As he turned and stepped fully into the room, Maya’s cheeks(rp) began to hurt from smiling so fiercely.

“I knew I always liked him,” she said to no one as she closed the door.

-

This was ridiculous. This resort was full of entirely too many people who favored the same sort of eccentric clothing that man had even fourteen years ago, a disproportionate amount of them with the same slate grey hair. He almost would have written that (awkward*) expression seen from across Dahlia’s shoulder/a hotel lobby as a figment of his overtaxed imagination had it not been so much realer than the stacks of canvases in his studio. Which meant Miles was here, but he’d swept the first level of the hotel twice already after begging Dahlia to take to her room for a bit, the pool area was as depressingly empty as the inside was, and -

There he was.

Across the pool, descending the steps carefully from the inside lounge area and walking on the balls of his feet like he always did when he’d had a bit too much to drink (and why did he still remember that) was, without a doubt, Miles Edgeworth.

Phoenix suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Edgeworth was halfway down the opposite path before Phoenix realized he should probably do something.

“Excuse me,” he said, shouldering his way through the crowd. It would be rude and more than a little intrusive to just call out his ex-husband’s name in the middle of a resort, right? Perhaps not as rude as nearly shoving the poor bellboy into the shrubbery, but, well, desperate times called for desperate measures.

He didn’t immediately notice the odd assortment of friends and family and a lumbering man in striped green swimming trunks perched on pool chairs as he stepped past, but they certainly noticed him.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Trucy asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said vaguely, refusing to take his eyes off Edgeworth. He was abruptly terrified he might vanish again if he did.

He

“Nick, watch out -”

“Hey, pal -”

“Daddy -”

With that, Phoenix collided into a passing service boy, arms pinwheeling wildly as he fell directly into the pool behind him.

-

“Hello Miles,” he said, smiling sheepishly and wringing out his tie. He fought the urge to rub the back of his neck and settled for clenching his hands into tight fists instead. “Or do you people call you Edgeworth now?”

“Miles is - Miles is fine,” Edgeworth said weakly, trying to look anywhere but Phoenix, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation they should be having for the first time after fifteen years. “My father still calls me Miles.”

-

Something warm coiled in his chest. It felt infinitely more dangerous than it had fifteen years ago.

“You always had a smart mouth,” he murmured, rubbing a swathe of cleaning ointment along the cut on Phoenix’s forehead. Phoenix hissed.

“So glad you remembered,” he bit through gritted teeth.

“Hush.”

Phoenix hmmed but stayed silent for a few more seconds, staring at Edgeworth as he dug back into the first aid kit. Edgeworth tried not to flush under the scrutiny.

-

Phoenix held his wrist in a loose grip. He should have felt clammy from the pool and the rapidly descending night, but he blazed oddly hot against Edgeworth’s skin.

“Miles, I-”

“Feenie? Who is this?”

“Dollie!” Phoenix said, shooting upright and wincing at the sudden dizziness.

-

Edgeworth’s burgundy coat was hung carefully over his arm, too thick for the warm California night. The buttons on his waistcoat glinted from a nearby streetlamp’s glow.

Phoenix swallowed.

-

“Do you have any idea where they’re taking us?” Edgeworth asked, leaning in slightly. Phoenix’s (nose twitched? something about scent memory?) and he refused to let himself acknowledge that Miles’s choice of aftershave hadn’t changed since the day they’d met. He abruptly remembered the taste of cheap wine and overly sweet cake on his tongue, felt the ghost weight of a ring fifteen years gone.

He hastily turned away.

“No idea.”

-

“Grandfather chipped in a bit -”

“Apollo,” Edgeworth warned.

“Alright, so Grandfather chipped in a lot, whatever, we’re poor teenagers, the point is,” he said, emphasizing the final word by pulling the ship’s impressive doors open with a firm tug, “it’s ours for the night.”

Phoenix whistled shrilly in appreciation, instinctively reaching out to ruffle Apollo’s hair. It was a testament to how important the night was that Apollo merely batted Phoenix’s hand away. “Seriously, dad,” he mumbled. His scowl was clearly forced, however; he felt oddly warm that he was able to finally use that word at all.

-

“Subtle,” Phoenix remarked.

“Mm,” Edgeworth agreed. “I don’t suppose we should let their efforts, however misguided they may be, go to waste, should we?”

“You just want to know who else they roped into this ridiculous scheme of theirs.”

“Oh, because you don’t.”

“I,” Phoenix said, moving to the chilled champagne propped by the windowsill and popping its cork, “have a perfectly healthy level of curiosity. It does not involve wondering what’s going on in my kid’s head. Trucy is a teenager. That’s terrifying.” He carefully poured the sparkling drink into two glasses and offered one to Edgeworth.

“I find that somewhat difficult to believe,” Edgeworth said, striding forward and taking the  proffered glass. He made certain their fingers did not brush. “Thank you.”

-

They waited until she had hastily bowed out of the room before turning their focus back to each other. “Miles, that’s why we came up with this arrangement in the first place,” Phoenix continued, nonplussed.

“Really?” Edgeworth carefully picked up his glass flute, trying to ignore the tremor he felt running through his hands. “I thought it was because we’d agreed to never see each other again.”

Phoenix’s heart clenched. “Not ‘we’, Miles,” he said slowly, spreading his hands on the tablecloth and feeling like if he missed a step here, he would risk something he couldn’t afford to lose again.

Edgeworth took a shaky draw of wine. “You know,” he said slowly, seemingly forcing himself to meet Phoenix’s eyes, “that part is unclear to me as well.”

“Oh, you don’t remember the day you packed?” Phoenix asked.

“No, I remember that day perfectly. Did I hurt you when I threw that - oh God, what was it -”

“It was Kamisar’s Modern Criminal Procedure. It left a dent in the wall from where it rebounded off my head.”

“Oh,” Edgeworth said, at least having the grace to look properly abashed. “Right. Sorry.”

Phoenix shrugged. “It’s not like I was making it that easy on you.

-

And....” Edgeworth trailed off, twisting a napkin between his fingers. “You didn’t chase after me.”

Phoenix felt (something) shift. “I didn’t know that you wanted me to.”

-

“A toast to -”

“Our children,” Edgeworth cut in. He ignored the tightening in his chest at the our.

“Our children,” Phoenix repeated slowly, as if the words didn’t quite match with what his mouth had wanted to say.

“We both got where we actually wanted to go.”

Phoenix’s eyes never wavered from his. “We did,” he said, voice strange.

They toasted again and finished their meal in silence.

-

“Apollo, what are you doing in those clothes? We’ve got a plane to catch.”

“We’re getting totally ripped off,” maybe-Trucy said. “Daddy said we’d get our camping trip and we want to go.”

“Wait, hang on,” Phoenix interrupted, “what camping trip?”

“The one Aunt Maya and I make you take us on every year before school starts,” almost-definitely-Trucy said. Phoenix began to lift his finger in triumph, sure he’d found his kid -

“ -the one behind the house that runs all the way up to Gourd Lake, remember when you fell in that one year,” I’m-not-too-sure-if-this-one-is-still-in-fact-Apollo finished.

Phoenix’s arm fell listlessly to his side. Edgeworth snorted.

Phoenix shot Edgeworth a look. Thanks for helping, one of these is yours. “This is entirely unfunny, you’re going to make your father miss his flight,” he said, shifting his attention back to the twins. Honestly, he was an Ivy University graduate and Miles was a world renowned defense attorney, how were they being duped by their own kids -

“Apollo -” Edgeworth began.

“Yes?” they both said in unison.

Edgeworth groaned. “They get this from you, I’m sure,” he said.

“It’s not my fault you’ve apparently been raising a devilishly deceptive teenager,” Phoenix quipped back, never taking his eyes off the twins. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine pound at the base of his neck. “He’s probably rubbed off on Trucy.”

The twins grinned.

Phoenix rubbed a hand over his eyes before stooping to their height once again. He stared hard at each of them, looking back and forth between their faces. “This one’s Trucy,” he said slowly, pointing a finger to the sibling in orange. “I’m positive.”

“You know, I hope you’re right, Daddy. You wouldn’t want to send the wrong kid all the way back to Germany - ”

“ - would you?”

How was any of this fair?

“Here’s our proposition. We go back to Daddy’s house, pack our stuff, and the four of us leave on the camping trip.”

“The four of us?” Edgeworth interjected. They ignored him.

“And when you bring us back,” maybe-Trucy-maybe-Apollo continued, “we’ll tell you who’s Trucy and who’s Apollo.”

“Or,” Edgeworth said, carefully stepping around and in front of Phoenix and crossing his arms firmly across his chest, tapping his finger rhythmically against his arm, “new plan. I take one of you back to Germany with me whether you like it or not.”

Two identical sets of eyes twinkled back at him.

(He felt a migraine beginning to pound in his left temple.)

-

“You can cook now?” Edgeworth asked.

“Oh yeah,” Phoenix said. “I can make pasta. And pasta. Probably more pasta, if you ask really nicely.”

“Hm,” Edgeworth said, eyebrows scrunched in mock thought, “pasta sounds good.”

Phoenix grinned, bumping Edgeworth’s shoulder. He was warm through the cotton. “Pasta it is.”

-

Edgeworth looked across the seat at Apollo. His glassy eyes reflected the flickering street lamps as the taxi sped down the empty street.

“Apollo, I -” he began, deflating as Apollo turned further away. It’s entirely justified, he thought despondently. I’d hate myself as well.

-

“Grandfather?” Apollo called, shrugging out of his heavy jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. The house was silent.

“I’ll check the study,” Edgeworth said, tugging his jabot loose. Apollo nodded and headed towards the direction of the kitchen, toeing off his shoes on the way. Pushing open the wide doors that led to the study, Edgeworth saw someone reading a paper at the desk. He cocked his hip against the door and crossed his arms. “Hello, father. We’re back.”

The newspaper lowered. It wasn’t Gregory.

“Hiya, papa,” Trucy said. The corners of her mouth were quirked despite her obvious attempts to reign in her expression. “Did you know the Concord gets you here in half the time?”

Edgeworth slipped against the doorframe. He felt the knob dig into his hip. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”

(Edgeworth was acutely aware of the doorknob digging into his hip from when he pressed against it. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”)

Apollo walked into the room, drawn to the sound of voices. When he saw Trucy his face split into a blinding grin. “What are you doing here?”

Trucy neatly folded the newspaper on the desk and clasped her hands in front of her. “It took us about thirty seconds after you left that we decided we didn’t want to lose you two again,” she said, eyes crinkling.

Edgeworth swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “We?” he said, voice cracking.

“We,” a new voice agreed.

From the corner of his eye, Edgeworth noted Trucy moving to stand by the far wall of the study, giving the vaguest attempt of privacy. It didn’t matter. His eyes were trained on Phoenix, tracking his movement as he crossed the room.

-

Phoenix peppered his face in light kisses, smiling into the curve of his throat and pressing his lips to the thrumming heartbeat beneath his skin.

They eventually pulled back, desperate for air. Phoenix’s eyes crinkled - crow’s feet, Edgeworth thought wildly through his haze, he’s got crow’s feet now, I haven’t seen him this close up since - and he rested his forehead against Edgeworth’s.

“God, I’m never letting you go again,” he whispered, hands snaking around the other man’s back to pull him even closer.

-

“You want to toast with this? I’d have thought you might want to upgrade to something with a little more class.”

Phoenix smiled sloppily, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple. “You’re the only one I said I’d drink it with, remember?”

Edgeworth smiled back. He took the proffered bottle warmed by the weather and tugged his husband into a proper kiss, matching rings glinting in the dying sunlight.

[snuggetfish]

Majidad family headcanons..? 🥺👉👈

Say no more 💖 This is LONG so I've put it under the cut!

First off, how many children would Majima want? Frankly, the man’s so happy to be given the chance at fatherhood in the first place that even just one would send him over the moon... but he wouldn’t say no to more. He’s paid enough visits to Kiryu to feel that twinge in his heart, hearing the echo of so many cheery voices around the orphanage. 

So, if it at all possible, he’d love to see his dream about having his own little cuddle puddle of kids become a reality. He’ll maybe slightly underestimate how difficult it’d be to take care of them all, but he’s Majima Goro, moulded by fate to be one tenacious bastard. He’ll pull through, somehow, with the help of a loving partner willing to go the distance with him. However, if he did only have one kid, you can bet they’d be spoiled absolutely rotten. You might think that the roles of good cop/bad cop would be obvious in a crazy yakuza dad+presumably civilian spouse couple, but think again, because Majima is a complete pushover when faced with cute puppy eyes. 

Extra serving of ice cream after dinner? He'll pile gigantic scoops into his bowl and then give up not even halfway through, sliding it towards his child. He can't really wink, but they get the picture. “Who in ever is gonna finish this for me?” Five minutes more at the park? Sure thing, they can have the whole hour and maybe Kiryu-chan might show up in the meantime too so they can... schedule their next fight. No throwing down in front of the kid! I think also once Majima becomes a dad, his priorities shift. Slightly, but noticeably. He still upholds his vicious reputation, but he isn't living at the edge any more, fighting through each day like it's his last, defusing bombs with little regard for safety. If surviving up until now was luck more than anything, with a child in his life, he's going to make damn sure it becomes a certainty. He's got something so very precious to stay alive for.

When they're still very young, Majima would be a great help in comforting them during the night. He typically gets back at late hours anyway and relishes the chance to spend a bit of time with his child, instead of immediately collapsing into a restless sleep like he always used to. If they're awake or crying he'll comfort them as best as he can, even with his whispered voice now hoarser than he remembers it and no knowledge of lullabies... but hey, pop songs will do too. 24h Cinderella anyone? Though if they're sound asleep, he'll stick to just holding their tiny hand for a while, feel it clasp gently around his fingers... 

First things first, the gloves come off, always. "Skinship" is a Japanese word put together from English that I think is great for describing the kind of parent-child intimacy he'd want. On mornings where can afford to sleep in, it wouldn't be uncommon for his spouse to find him on the couch, dozing on and off with the baby nestled on his chest. He's afraid of falling fully asleep and missing the tenderness of the moment, plus his nightmares are not something he'd ever want his child to know... So he'll stay like that, stroking their back and peeking through a lidded eye at his partner who's busy making breakfast. Also on this topic, an idea that occurred to me recently: you know how Majima's tattoo has one of the snakes' heads on the left side of his chest? Well... call him superstitious, but he'd only hold the baby on the right side. Can't have it threatening his sweet pea. 🥺️

What about once they get older? Well probably Majima would start waking up with unexpected “extensions” made this his tattoo, in black marker. Possibly some scribbles on his eye patch as well, which he’ll still proudly wear to work. And if you know what’s good for you, you really don’t want to be the one making fun of a Mad Dog that’s sporting a little heart doodle on his face. Kisses? Yes, absolutely. As we learn from Dead Souls, Majima would not shy away from smooching his child. A “good night” kiss, a “good morning” kiss, a “have a nice day” kiss when they’re off to school. One day the kid complains that his beard’s too scratchy and Majima doesn’t even think twice before he goes back to being clean-shaven. 

I think at some point they would also have to be introduced to the domain they're going to be ruling (though only as children!): the Majima Family. Nishida would be promoted to “designated driver", for a kid all too eager to ride on someone's shoulders while daddy's away in a meeting and the Kamurocho Hills construction site would be getting a new foreman. Their duties would include drawing on the blueprints and shouting words of "encouragement" at the men through dad's loudspeaker, whenever he needs a break. Bet Majima even gets them a little hard hat and everything, custom-made! Ok so it also doesn't take long for them to figure out a fun game to play with the new family members, a hazing ritual basically: show up on the day of their first office duty and annoy the hell out of them. Men were nervous to begin with, but now they're confused and pissed, like who the hell is this brat and who let them in? Kid plays the silent card: doesn't say a word about their name or their dad's, just keeps running around and getting in their business. 

After chasing a lightning-fast kid all around the whole office, Majima comes in and they think they're saved. Surely the boss has 0 tolerance for little intruders.... Though, of course, the intruder immediately runs to daddy and it slowly... very slowly dawns on them. Kid’s grinning from behind a leather-clad leg and the poor newbies have gone white in the face mentally counting how many fingers they're gonna have to give up. But it’s all fun and games... mostly. Of course a Majima descendant would inherit his mischievous nature.

But hey at some point, uncle Saejima comes back. Though Majima’s maybe a little reluctant at first, eventually he can’t but see the value of his kid training with his kyodai in the dojo. For self-defense, but also to develop their athleticism. Saejima’s of course happy to spend time with his niece or nephew, though... you know how in Y4 one of dojo's mechanics is that the students can just skip your lessons if they're not feeling motivated enough? Majima’s munchkin would absolutely do that. Slide underneath the big tiger’s legs and make a run for it! 

I think Majima would find it terribly endearing if the child at some point started dropping Kansai words here and there. And that’s in spite of Saejima chiding him that his own accent is fake and that the kid probably picked it up from the “real source”, a.k.a Saejima himself. Heh, dad and uncle might bicker sometimes, but they both make it clear just how much they love the little one.

Now, raising a child as a high-profile yakuza is obviously not going to be all rainbows and sunshine... I think Majima would love nothing more than to indulge in the cozy fantasy of being an ideal father, spending all his waking moments playing with his kid, putting his energy and creativity to good use, just generally making sure his son or daughter get the best childhood he's never had... but it's a fantasy for a reason, because he's grounded enough in reality to know that it's not going to work out as idyllically as that. 

He's fulfilled his and Saejima's dream of climbing the yakuza ranks, although it's come at the cost of being a notorious figure, with scars both external and internal. How is he going to protect his family? How much time is he really going to be able to dedicate to his kids? How is he going to keep them from walking the same dark path he has? Not a day passes where he doesn’t ask himself all those questions... doubly so on nights where he comes home to find that they’ve wiggled in his bed as well, cozy and safe in his partner’s arms. And it hits him that they’ve already grown up so much and he fears he’s missed out on so much, on making a positive impact in their life...

Ultimately, I don’t believe Majima would want his kids to grow up involved in the yakuza. Yet at the same time he can’t entirely hide his career. Maybe that’s a good thing because it teaches him that it's never as black and white as "if I leave, they'll be safe; if I stay, they'll die". One can raise a child to be strong and, above all, make their own decisions and carve their own path, even as a dad who's for all intents and purposes a criminal. The yakuza are, after all, a fact of everyday living, hidden in plain sight, given how pervasive they are in business and politics. A kid that's seen the flip side of the coin (within reason, because you bet Majima would still be fiercely protective of them) would surely be well equipped for life. It’s what he hopes, at least. If I thought the last ask was long...oh boy. I’d like to deeply thank all my friends off whom I’ve been bouncing these privately ideas for months now!! 💙💙💙 I didn’t think there’d be much interest in Majidad headcanons, but I’m happy to have been proven wrong!

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Can I request headcanons of Snake with a s/o who loves to take care of his snakes with him? They also love to knit little accessories for them, especially during wintertime!

oh my heart is so full!! like listen I am a person who LOVES snakes so much and if I had a noodle of my own to crochet little noodle sweaters for I WOULD DO IT

insert sappy sobbing about how Snake is literally the character who helped me get over my fear of snakes and how this is just TOO PRECIOUS ahhhhh <3

SNAKE

… Oh. They’ll… make warm, cute accessories for him, too, right…? Well, obviously he doesn’t expect that, mostly because he has no idea in general what to do when someone gives him a gift. But if they do knit him something like a hat or a scarf, he’ll pretty much make it his new prize possession. Especially if it has their scent on it.

Honestly, he’s just happy that someone else likes the snakes! He doesn’t run across many people who are fond of them, and in fact it’s more common to find people who detest them. Often he gets down on himself wondering if they really like the snakes or if they just put up with them; he tries to remind himself that (Name) probably wouldn’t be with him romantically, so very close, if they didn’t like the snakes.

That his S/O wants to keep the snakes warm in the winter speaks volumes about how much they either listen or research. Snakes are cold-blooded and can’t regulate their own body temperature, relying on other sources of heat so as not to freeze to death. During the winter, that’s difficult if they happen to be slithering around outside. Though it’s not so much a problem as long as they stay inside and can be close to the fire, it’s still a sweet gesture. It comes in handy during the night when the fire isn’t going as it is all day, but it’s not quite cold enough that the serpents want to risk leaving Snake’s company to find warmth.

To that note, it’s… entirely possible that (Name) will wake up with some of the snakes in their bed when it gets to be down into freezing temperatures. On some level, the snakes see them as a safe person to go to for a source of heat because (Name) is always so kind to them. If Snake panics and goes to ask if they’ve seen the snakes, only to find his S/O cuddled up in bed snuggling with them, he’s ― there’s no way around it, he’s probably going to cry. He has never seen anyone so affectionate and comfortable with his friends that they would let the things sleep in bed with them!

He insists that (Name) doesn’t have to help him feed the snakes, and will be surprised if they still want to. His snakes are a mix of venomous and constrictors, so either way isn’t exactly a pretty picture. Even those few people he’s met who like snakes draw the line at watching them swallow their food. The idea of someone not minding to assist with dangling a rat in front of a snake’s mouth waiting for them to strike at it, possibly risking getting their fingers bitten if they’re being unsafe and not using tongs, is just so foreign to him. He’ll let them help if they really want to, but… do they really want to????

(Name) puts Emily and Oscar in a get-along sweater and Snake almost cries from laughing so much. W-wait, are they trying to chew it apart to get out of it?! At least they’re working together…