#there really is no person out there that could replace what a sibling is

[sepublic]

I also want to add to the Blight family dynamic with how Edric is apparently the least-favorite? In addition to him being the screw-up of the family, as seen with his storyline in Reaching Out. There's Dana half-joking that he's Odalia's least favorite child. Which suggests that Odalia doesn't entire see the twins as a unit, or does so in-part to find something to do with Edric.

I know Odalia brings up the twins as being perfect to Amity, but that's the thing; We only see her bring up the twins as a way to belittle Amity. But given Amity's first two appearances are about her being pitted against a peer by an adult she yearns for the approval of, I wouldn't be surprised if the twins had to hear the reverse, and neither party has it so good after all. It's all just a way to get them to compete so they do better.

This is personal HC/interpretation fueled by authorial headcanon, but between Amity as the Abomination engineer and covenscout that Odalia failed to be, possibly her way of ingratiating Blight Industries with the Emperor's Coven before it happened on its own... And Emira as the designated caretaker, the eldest matriarch who knows how to grab attention as an illusionist;

It feels as if Edric occupies this weird space where he's not really either parent and doesn't fill in a role Odalia can predict so she's like hmm. What to do with you! And she settles for continuing to lump him in with Emira because she loves the Twins aesthetic but otherwise can't be bothered to acknowledge both as individuals, plus Ed can back up Emira's showman purpose. So it's Edric just being dragged around by Emira, yet ironically Emira also feels like it's the other way around with herself and her siblings due to her parentified role. It's very much both when you're stuck together.

Edric does develop a thing for Potions but that's mixed magic, but on the other hand Odalia would totally make exceptions to expand into a new market, and the Potions industry could easily be a kindred spirit to her anyhow. Maybe he partly got into Potions as a way to earn his own function within the family; Dana once considered a storyline where Edric vied for Odalia’s approval against a fake Abomination child she preferred to rely on to win a competition over her own son! So the effort for her attention is characterization Dana might have in mind. But then Edric liked Potions for its own sake (as I HC with Emira initially doing Healing because of her parentified role), plus Beastkeeping is very much for himself.

And I've noticed that out of the three Blight kids, Edric is the only one not to interact with their father in the epilogue; He's next to him at Luz's Quincenera but he's also next to Emira. There's Doylist factors like paying off Eda and Edric's dynamic by having him at the university, and not having the space to have Edric reunite with Alador during that whole sequence. Because him and Amity both work away from him, yet Amity at least gets to hug her dad!

But I like to think it implies that Edric hasn't forgiven their father, which could play into what I've said before! Edric being aware he doesn't fit into their mom's plans as the unfavorite. Maybe there's some freedom in this; But it also makes him resent his mom for neglect specifically, and by extension his dad for being the master of neglect because at least Odalia pays attention to her daughters. And that considered storyline of the fake Abomination child… Alador would’ve had to create it for Odalia, right? His own dad supported this ‘replacement’.

So while Edric's willing to accept Alador's change of heart and not speak on behalf of how his sisters feel, he's not comfortable enough to hang out together as father and son. Edric can handle being in the same space with Alador when there's a bunch of other people as a buffer, when they're both focused on someone else anyhow. But as a pair it's like... Eugh. It might be sad, but never say never; And more importantly it’s rep for abuse victims who don’t want to forgive, even if their abuser IS doing and meaning better. Victims are entitled to that!

I also have to think back to this Grom art Dana posted when the episode came out, under the HC that the twins got stood up because like. Edric is doing some comforting of his own. And this was likely drawn shortly before the episode itself came out; So when Dana and the writers would’ve been writing S2A, which leaned more into Emira having the Eldest Daughter role. And the implication she has to look after her own twin of the same age.

Retcons and changes are always a thing but I could see a story; Edric trying to take care of his sister himself, both out of genuine concern but also as a way to make himself as not just the useless child nobody knows what to do with. To give himself a real agency and purpose. And this works just fine with Emira! Better that than to be the one doing the emotional labor all of the time. Offering his jacket isn’t much, but it’s something Edric can do to have some control in his life, and it’s solidarity with his twin, an acknowledgement that he sees her parentified status and is trying to help with that.

[yioh]

these make me think about kaeya and diluc honestly it’s so heartbreaking 🥲🥲

[too-deviant]

The incessant ringing of loneliness (or three weeks part two).

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Apollo!Reader

Summary: Luke is back, officially. But you can’t find it in yourself to be happy about it.

Content: angst, loser!luke makes an appearance, a lil fluff, this one is probably happier than part one

Word Count: 4k

Notes: i can’t thank you guys enough for the love on three weeks :( it really means the world, and i hope you enjoy this one too! i don’t think there’s gonna be a part 3 just because i want the rest of luke and r’s story to be up to your own interpretation - especially since his path to healing is such an important factor and it could go in any way. hope that’s ok with you guys :)

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷

You weren’t very popular at camp.

Despite the fact that you’d been there for longer than most of its occupants, and that you’d bandaged up some of their gnarlier injuries, you just didn’t have what it took to have people know your name upon first glance.

Clarisse had her unbridled aggression — she scared people into knowing who she was. Charles Beckendorf was the guy you went to when you broke a sword and didn’t want Chiron finding out about it, plus he was six foot six and kinda hard to miss. The Stoll Twins were behind pretty much every crazy scheme that ended up in Hermes losing desert privileges. Luke was…well, he was Luke. Need I say more?

Point is, while everyone knew everyone, not everyone really knew you. They knew your face, your parentage, and your overall skill set. But they didn’t know your name, or what made you tick.

Which was fine, really. You liked the alone time you got in the infirmary when your sister would run out to gossip with her friends in Aphrodite whenever she saw them walk by. You didn’t mind that, when your cabin got their hour of free time each day, your siblings would rush off to their friends and you would simply settle down with a good book.

It’s not as if you were entirely lonely — you had your fellow Apollo kids. You, Alina and Lee bonded especially, being the older kids of the group. So you had them — the only difference was that they had other people, too.

Which, again, was fine.

Except when you started to take care of Luke, you finally felt like you had a person. You looked forward to seeing him after meals each day, and you found excuses to linger in his room whenever possible. Call it odd, but you grew to enjoy the fact that nobody else knew he was back. Because that way, you had him, he had you, and that was that.

But then Luke got better.

You didn’t even have time to worry about it — one minute you were scarfing down your breakfast, eager to bring that second plate up to the Big House, and ignoring the strange looks your siblings sent you. Then in a split moment, everyone was cheering, people were standing and suddenly you didn’t feel so crowded anymore.

You heard murmurs of excitement, but people were practically standing on the table around you — unhygienic, much? People are eating here — and you couldn’t see what they were looking at. You tugged on your brother’s leg and he glanced down at your raised brow, then he said, “Luke’s back!”

It was like you were sucked back in time. No — it was like you were sitting in a waiting room, shivering from the cold breeze that whisked in through the automatic doors. And then the doors closed, and you could release the tension in your body because the warmth was already reaching your fingers — only for someone to walk past and make the doors open again, sending the sharp sting of the cold right back to where it was before.

Yes. That’s what it was — the warmth Luke’s eyes on you had provided was suddenly ripped completely from you the second your brother's words reached your ears. Replaced with the blistering cold of nobody ever knowing your name.

So it was back to normal for you. The normal you had grown accustomed to — the normal you liked. The normal you thought you liked, anyway. 

You didn’t even catch a glimpse of Luke’s face as you stood and left the Pavilion, focusing on the floor beneath your feet rather than the crowd forming around him. Oh, but you couldn’t forget that he was back, it was all anybody could talk about. Once they’d done the math and realised he was the patient you’d been taking care of for three weeks, you locked yourself in your cabin to avoid all the questions, and didn’t see him until the very next day. 

The chatter of Luke’s return had died down when you woke up the next morning — a little later than you usually did, Lee having to shake you so you wouldn’t miss breakfast. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and pulled a clean camp shirt over your head, stumbling a little due to the fact that you hadn’t fully woken up yet. 

When you were ready, Lee was waiting by the door. A few of your siblings were still getting themselves into a line after his loud Fall in! had woken them up, so you had time to stretch your arms and let out a sigh once you had taken your place beside him. You and Alina always walked with him to mealtimes, even though neither of you were counsellors, and you greeted her with a smile. 

The air was stuffy again — so much so that even Lee let out a wince when the shining glow of the front door hit his eyes. Then he stepped out of the cabin — his usual routine of checking the garden and cabin for pranks before letting them out coming into play. But he stopped. 

“What?”

He swung his head back at you, brows raised and smile growing, “Luke’s back.”

Out of instinct, you rolled your eyes, “Pretty sure we all know that, already.”

“Yeah, but —“ He turned fully then, hands on the doorframe and grin shining, “He’s back, which means the Hermes kids are finally under control again, which means we don’t have to worry about being pranked first thing in the morning!”

“Holy crap.” Alina was grinning now, both of your siblings looking at you and each-other with this excited expression that made you sort of angry – why are they perceiving Luke? They’re not allowed. 

You huffed a sigh as Lee started to lead the line outside, “He got back yesterday, there’s no way he’s already –”

But he was. As you stepped into the sun, the skin on your thighs already forming an uncomfortable layer of sweat, you looked to where the Hermes cabin was filing out of their door, led by the one and only Luke Castellan. You paused. 

He’d been back a day. Sure, his scar had healed nicely, but it was only three days ago that he was struggling to hold his own in a sword fight – if he was back to his counsellor duties, was he going back to teaching sword fighting? You were unsure he should even be in charge of all those Hermes and unclaimed kids so soon, but going back to teaching only days after coming back to camp? There was no way he was ready for that.

Should you say something? Or would he dismiss you, now that he was done with you?

You watched as he walked with Chris, chatting idly as if nothing was wrong. But you saw Chris glance occasionally at the jagged line through his brother’s eye, and you saw Luke attempt to ignore it. 

Should you say something?

You tripped. You were so busy staring creepily at Luke that you tripped over your own feet and tumbled into Lee’s back. He stumbled slightly but righted himself with a huff and a chuckle, turning and asking if you were alright. 

But you had looked straight back in Luke’s direction – he was still talking to Chris. He wasn’t looking at you. 

He wasn’t your person anymore.

Luke was unsure. 

Which didn’t happen often — as one of the oldest campers, and the one everyone else looked to in times of peril, it was sort of essential for him to be sure. He needed to know what to do, to have a solution for every situation, and to be completely calm about it. Otherwise, camp would go to shit. 

That much was obvious — he didn’t know why you hadn’t told him this in the three weeks you spent together, but camp had turned itself upside down in his absence. Apparently nobody was prepared for him to be gone for so long, and they kind of all lost their shit. 

He was happy to be back, don’t get him wrong. He lit up when he saw his brother’s faces again, when he felt their arms wrap around him. He laughed when Travis joked about thinking he was dead, and when Connor quipped that the camp was seconds away from starting a revolution. He nodded at Chiron, smiled amusedly when Mr D rolled his eyes, he scooped Annabeth into his arms, whispered to her that yes, he was alive, and he let himself be whisked to his table, the crowd following like moths to a flame. 

It was slightly overwhelming, but he was well-equipped to deal with it. He liked the feeling — if he ignored the throbbing on the side of his face, it could be like he’d never even left. The quest never happened, the dragon never happened, and people are just happy to see him because he’s their counsellor. Of course they would be. Everything was fine. 

Everything was fine — so he ignored the urge to scan his eyes across the crowd in search of a familiar head of hair. He stopped himself from glancing at the Apollo table, from looking in Lee’s direction, just in case he wasn’t standing alone. 

Because he didn’t need you anymore. Not that he didn’t appreciate all you did for him, but the healing was done. He was better, he was back at camp — he was Luke Castellan again. If he looked for you, if he met those eyes and returned that smile, it would be admitting defeat. Admitting that he wasn’t better, that he still needed his doctor. 

But he didn’t. Because he was back, baby! And he didn’t need to think about that stupid quest, his stupid dad, or his stupid scar ever again. 

He had a short chat with Chiron, who looked a little uneasy when he expressed his readiness to get back to camp duties. He told him that it was fine if he needed time to settle in, but Luke was firm. He didn’t need to settle, he didn’t need to wait. So Chiron sighed, and told him to escort his cabin to the climbing walls for their morning session. 

And that’s how the rest of the day went — climbing wall, arts and crafts cabin, strawberry fields, archery practice. Luke did it all, just like he used to before he left. If people would just stop looking at his damn scar, maybe he could pretend he never left at all. If they stopped murmuring about him being the secret camper, hidden from them this whole time, he could avoid thinking about you and the sweet touch of your fingers on his face. 

The fact that he hadn’t seen you at all since his return helped him on that front — you weren’t around at breakfast, lunch or dinner. You weren’t in the infirmary whenever he peeked through the windows. You weren’t with the rest of your cabin when they were paired with Hermes for hand-to-hand defence practice. 

Not that he was looking for you, or anything.  

“Hey, man.” Chris clapped him on the shoulder as they walked up to breakfast. It had officially been twenty-four hours since Luke’s return, and the chatter had died down significantly. That was good for him, helped him ignore the fact that he was ever not there. 

All he had to do was keep his eyes off you — who had magically reappeared in camp — as you also walked up to breakfast, the Apollo kids trailing behind you, Lee and Alina. 

“Listen, you did great yesterday.” His brother was saying, and he zoned in on it. “It was like you never left.”

Cool, that was the plan. 

“But it’s sword fighting today.” 

Luke raised a brow, “So?”

“So…” Chris sang, awkwardly waving a hand, “You don’t have to jump right back into training us, is what I’m saying.”

He scoffed, running a hand through us curls, “Nah, bro, I’m good.”

“Are you sure? Because —“

“Y’know, Chris,” Luke sent his brother a cheeky look as they took their seats around the Hermes table, “if you’re scared to get back to my gruelling training sessions, just say that.”

Chris’ face fell, appalled, and he put a hand on his chest, “Scared? Dude, you’re the one who should be scared. I’ve gotten good since you’ve been gone.”

And there it was — a reminder that it wasn’t the same. That he couldn’t pretend he had never left, because nobody else was. Whatever, it’d be fine. A couple of weeks and this would all blow over and he would never have to think about it again. 

The Amphitheatre, unlike the rest of the camp amenities, was familiar to him. He didn’t need to stand and take it all in like he did with everywhere else, because he’d been here not even a week ago with —

No. Stop. You aren’t in his life anymore. He never went on his quest. Everything is how it should be. 

The kids gathered around him were letting off a range of emotions as Luke stood before them, sword in hand. The younger ones were giddy, eager to get back to training with their favourite teacher. Some of the older ones, however, were only slightly confused that he’d bounced back so quickly. If he had to spend three weeks in the Big House before even going outside, was he ready to jump right back into sword training? Maybe he’d go easier on them today, take it slow. 

“Alright — if there’s anything I've learnt over the years, it’s that sword fighting is all about reflexes. So, today, we will be working on y’all’s dodging skills. Oliver, get up here!”

Luke was back on Mount Tamalpais. The fiery breath Ladon was shooting at him seared his skin and burnt holes into his shirt. He was ducking out of the way, but there was no room to breathe when another one of his hundred heads came at him with a fierce snarl. His sword felt useless in his hands, every swing being deflected and every jab proving useless compared to the dragon's swift movements. 

He blinked, and he was back at camp. Sparring with an unclaimed kid who’s name was lost on him. Sweat dripped down his brows but he wiped it away with shaky fingers. He gave an off-handed comment on the kids form before calling a water break. 

“Yo— woah, man!” 

Chris looked wide-eyed at Luke. He had tapped him gently on the shoulder and he had responded with an aggressive swing towards him. He stepped out of the arc just in time, but Luke still dropped the sword like it had burnt him. He stepped back, hands shaking, and stared at the ground. 

It was odd — being at Archery in the mornings. You’d spent three weeks skipping the hour in favour of taking food to Luke and ensuring his dressings were changed. Which for most cabins, was what? Three classes a week? 

Not for the Apollo kids — who have always and will always have their first hour spent on the Archery fields. Mainly because it’s when the sun is rising, shining on them in the early mornings and giving them their power to hit the bullseye. You included, even if healing was more your purview. 

So you’d missed probably around twenty classes, give or take a few. Your form was, well, subpar at best. Lee had to spend the entire hour making sure you didn’t accidentally hit one of your siblings — and that was after he had to re-teach you the basics. 

You probably would’ve been better had you not been so distracted — your mind whirring with thoughts of Luke. You wished your brain would just leave it alone, but apparently you weren’t done mulling over the situation. You wanted to slap yourself across the face and say hey, idiot. The three weeks is up, he’s healed. It’s over. But your siblings would probably look at you weird, so you decided against it. 

Instead, you threw yourself into your duties. Archery was a bump in the road, but now you were smooth sailing. You didn’t focus on anything else but what you had to do that day — not taking a moment to breathe because if you did that, you’d start thinking about Castellan again. You didn’t want that, you really didn’t want that. 

It was going really well, too. But then Chiron just had to interrupt your canoeing session, asking you to clear out any medical supplies you left over in the spare room of the Big House since nobody was staying there anymore.

Oh, great. You were thinking about him again. 

And then all the thoughts you’d been suppressing since ten in the morning were overflowing your head, and you thought you might have had to ask Mr D if you were going mad because when you cracked open the door and peeked your head in, Luke was sitting on the edge of the bed like usual and you had to blink to make the hallucination go away. 

Except it didn’t go away. Instead it looked at you and smiled, “Hi.”

Your lips parted, and you stepped in. Your eyebrows curved in on themselves, “Uh, hey. What are you…”

You were still about seventy percent sure that he wasn’t real, but nobody was there to listen to you talk to air, so you replied anyway. Luke clicked his tongue, let out a chuckle, then sighed, “I don’t think I can do it.”

Okay, fifty percent sure. 

“Do what?”

“Go back out there.” He gestured a hand to the window that pointed outside, although it was still covered with the curtain. “I thought…I dunno, I guess I got too excited yesterday. Thought I was ready to jump back into it.”

You stepped fully through the threshold, and he followed you with his eyes as you walked over to the desk. Nothing but a few spare bandages that you scooped into your arms before looking back at him. You tilted your head, “Healing isn’t linear. It’s perfectly normal to feel like you’re on top of the world one day and then like it’s crumbling around you the next.”

He stood, walked over to you. Thirty percent. 

“I don’t want to disappoint them.” 

“You won't.” You shook your head, “You made a big step, coming back to camp. That's it for now, you don’t need to take any more big steps for a while.”

He nodded, “No more big steps.”

“Not until you’re ready.”

Luke’s hands reached out, taking the bandages from where you cradled them to your chest. He put them back onto the desk behind you. Ten percent. 

His eyes bore into yours, “I don’t think I’m done healing.”

You shook your head surely, “I don’t think you are, either. And that’s okay.” 

He nodded, lips clicking when he parted them, “Which means you’re not allowed to leave me yet. You have to stay with me until I’m fully better.”

You shook your head then, stammering, “It’s — that’s not how it works. What you went through, it — you might not ever be fully better.” 

But Luke just nodded like he knew that already, taking a step closer, “I think I’m okay with that.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say. What the hell do you say to that? “Okay.”

He nodded, pressing his lips together, “So you’re not gonna leave me.”

Five percent.

A shake of your head, “Not until you ask me to.”

“Good.”

He wrapped his arms around you, and you froze. Okay, he was real. He was really there. You were sure. You hugged him back — he buried his face into your neck and whispered something about you never leaving him again and you whispered something in return about how you wouldn’t dream of it.

So, apparently, you severely underestimated what it was like to be friends with Luke.

You’d thought about it — of course you had. You would imagine what perfect golden boy Luke Castellan was like when he didn’t have to be a perfect golden boy. When he could just be a boy, hanging out with his friends like a normal person would. What jokes did he tell? Did he still keep up that Luke Castellan Grin or did he relax into an easy smirk? Did he make his friends follow the rules even when they were alone? Did he follow the rules when he was alone?

You wondered, although you never thought you’d actually find out. But he’d made it clear you were never leaving his side so long as he still needed you — and he was sticking to that. Firmly.

The summer sun was hot on your back — only this time your dad seemed to be going easy on you, as you weren’t completely uncomfortable under the warm cotton of your camp shirt. You still wafted it every now and then, proving some cool air to your chest, but overall you were feeling good.

You walked into the Amphitheatre with the rest of your siblings — who were less than amused that, despite Luke’s return to camp, Tyler P from the Hephaestus cabin was still running sword fighting practice. They heaved themselves onto the tiered seats with dramatic groans, but he simply grinned at them.

You paused from where you were about to sit down next to Alina when a waving hand caught your peripheral. It was Luke, tucked into the very top corner of the steps, smiling at you from the shadows.

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked when you reached him, raising your brow in amusement. He patted the spot next to him and you sat down, just as Tyler began to talk. Luke leaned in.

“I’m watching.” He muttered into your ear, then he smirked at you, “You can’t stop me from doing that.”

“I wasn’t going to.” You murmured, leaning back on your elbows and watching as your siblings paired up reluctantly. “Thanks for pulling me away, though. Gives me an excuse not to take part.”

Luke huffed a laugh, “He can’t be that bad, right?”

“Just you wait.” You smirked.

Turns out, Tyler was that bad. Every ‘new skill’ he tried to teach them either (a) they already knew, something Luke liked to whisper at you with a shake of his head, or (b) he couldn’t even do it himself, let alone teach others how to. Another thing Luke commented on from where he sat beside you, hands aching to get in there and show him what was what.

“Just one tip, and then I’ll go.” He begged under his breath as Tyler dropped his sword for the umpteenth time. “Please.”

“No.” You didn’t even look at him, “Because one tip turns into a demonstration. And a —“

“— a demonstration turns into a class, yeah yeah.” He rolled his eyes, but you just grinned at him. He smiled, “You’re mean.”

“I know.” You said in a faux-sympathetic tone. You pouted at him, “I’m just so cruel, aren’t I?”

His eyes narrowed, and his mouth stretched into a disbelieving grin, “Damn, doc. What happened to you?”

You scoffed amusedly, “You did.”

His mouth dropped open and you smiled, looking away. He poked your side and you shuffled away with a giggle, attempting to ignore his riled up smile. He didn’t relent, for every inch you moved away from him, he scooted right back towards you. You looked at him with a narrowed gaze, “I miss when you were too miserable to talk to me.”

“No you don’t.” He shook his head. He was right, you didn’t.

He let out a slow breath through his nose, and you felt it on your face. That was when you realised how close your faces were — mere centimetres apart. You swallowed thickly, but you didn’t move away. Luke’s smile stretched, and his hand began to inch up your arm.

You squinted, “What are you doing?”

It was his turn to feign confusion, pulling his lips into the same pout you did only moments earlier, “What are you talking about?”

His hand was at your elbow now, sliding higher. You shook your head, a minute movement, “Doctor Patient Fraternising isn’t allowed.”

He gasped, pulling his hand back in favour of placing it dramatically against his chest, “It’s not?”

“Nope.” You grinned amusedly, “Sorry.”

“Damn.” He leaned back, glancing at you for a second before looking back towards Tyler’s shitshow of a sword lesson, “Guess I’ll have to get another doctor.”

You snorted, “You’re a loser.”

You stood up and went to rejoin your siblings, and Luke shouted after you, “I’m your loser!”

“What was that?” Lee asked when you stopped beside him.

“What? Oh,” You glanced back at where Luke was sat, and he averted his gaze from where he had been looking at you. You looked up at your brother, “He’s just happy to be back, is all.”

He chuckled, “Sure.”

Whatever. He was your person again and Lee could suck your dick if he had anything to say about it.

🏷️ @aceofswordsandarrows @cowsandcomics @number-onekidqueen @kestisvrse @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons @how2besalty @iinlovewithfictionalppl @lilacspider @l0ve-dov3 @coffi-cake @ironmanbaldes @onecojg @hiraethavis @freaking0utficrecs @delphifarms @wildlyfreemoon @candylandy8173 @sinnercry @featherofthecrow @babellucci @telliette @totallynotnic

[signedeclipse]

Ooh, i found your page, and i saw your prompt post about the Multiple/All hashira have feelings for the reader who is the best swordsmith and all want their swords done by her, I think it be funny to also add Hotaru Haganezuka to the mix and him also being like "im not sharing my fellow Smith back off!" :D

I think all would be funny with all hashira, but anyone underage it's like I admire you and you are now my older sibling/parent now.

Giyuu | Gyomei | Mitsuri | Muichiro | Obanai | Sanemi | Shinobu [X Reader]

In which you are the best swordsmith, and the hashira you're assigned to adore you.

Giyuu

He never deserved any kind of special blade, special treatment, or anything above what the average person got

At least, thats how Giyuu thought about things

Recently, his swordsmith had retired, and while he had stated he didn't care who got the job, there was still pressure for him to pick since it was considered some kind of honour

During his visit to the village, he met you at an izakaya, where you were talking with the owner about your proposal for the 'hashira in town'

He felt bad for walking in, knowing you didn't intend for him to hear anything, so he immediately tried to hide in the corner and finish his food sooner

Unfortunately, the owner immediately pointed him out, and asked him to come over to talk to you

Both of you were red with embarrassment, and Giyuu had to insist you stop apologizing

You were nervous about talking about the design, but eventually he caught the gist that you wanted to repurpose another sword into his since older steel was more valuable

You'd clearly done your research because you knew of him and Sabito, and you offered to use Sabito's left-over ore to add to his for some more sentimental value

Giyuu was really keen about the idea, and before the choosing ceremony could occur, he presented himself to Lord Tecchin to request you become his permanent swordsmith

Gyomei

Nichirin blades were the most common weapon used by demon slayers

Gyomei had started with one, but he quickly found his attacks were focused on the impact, and less on the perfect point of precision

He needed something different, but he wasn't sure what

Being a bother was something he hated doing, but he took it upon himself to visit the swordsmith village so he could meet with Lord Tecchin

Even Tecchin was unsure, until one of his guards spoke about you, a budding swordsmith with a less traditional outlook on weapons

Gyomei was willing to try, and he was glad he did

You were a natural creative, he could hear your charcoal sketching along parchment even as it was hidden below melancholic humming

You were interested in his assessment of his inability to use nichirin to its best potential, and after considering several forms of weapons, you both landed on something that could act at various ranges

The flail was a deadly weapon on a stick, but you proposed keeping it on a chain would help him control it, since he could vary how much length he gave the flail to move

"It'll be heavy, though, and hard to know where it's going. How much can you lift?"

"Several thousand kilograms."

"Ah."

You were at a loss for words, but you took him seriously and began working

Gyomei actually had a hand in helping make them, because you could barely carry the flail moulds, let alone the finished product

You instructed his hands on how to feel the weapon, gave him suggestions on use, and described its appearance so he could adjust the colours as he liked

Your patience was appreciated, and Gyomei took it upon himself to make sure you were treated extremely well after the week of gruelling work

Mitsuri

Mitsuri had a very special blade

It needed to be thin enough to bend, but thick enough to remain still when not moving

The only person who had ever managed this perfect precision was Lord Tecchin, but as he grew older, the task became harder

So, there was a contest for a replacement; anyone who wanted to could join

You were intrigued by the idea, but you'd had trouble in the past with your experimental blades, so much so that some friends of yours suggested you leave yourself out

But you wanted to give it a try, besides, you'd heard great things about the love Hashira, and you were sure she wouldn't be mean about it if it didn't meet her standards

Your best idea was to use something other than the scarlet ore to give it further reinforcement, so you created an alluminium-steel alloy that could be coated in scarlet ore by melting the scarlet crimson Iron Sand, which was more flexible than the ore

It resulted in a long, thin, and sturdy blade that could handle nearly triple the force of its original, though it wasn't as flexible as before

On the day of the contest, Mitsuri was extremely interested in your process, and you got to see your creation in its moving form for the first time

Mitsuri was extremely talented, and she had no problem bending the sword with her whipped movements

As it turns out, she had to be careful with her previous swords because she had gotten too strong for them and they got too loose

You easily won, and Mitsuri was beyond joyed to know her swordsmith was not only talented, but also extremely pretty!

She's always sketching herself with her sword on the letters she sends to you and often inviting you out to eat

Expect a lot of recipes sent your way, and a lot of sweet messages detailing how excited she is to see you again

Muichiro

Swords were the least of his concerns when it came to slaying demons

They should always be perfect, always kill without getting in his way; he shouldn't have to ever think about it

But after his run-in with Tanjiro and his previous swordsmith passing away, the concerns bubbled up

He didn't have time to spend waiting on some smith to make something comparable to what he wielded, he needed something just as good, if not better

So the search began, and of course, your name popped up a lot when he'd ask who was 'the best'

You were young, close to his age, and you were hard at work when he found you

Muichiro ignores every craftsman sword hung upon your wall, disregards every talent, and demands you take him on

But stubborn meets stubborn, and when you say no, hes taken back

What do you mean 'no'? Do you have any idea how much of a speck you are compared to him?

The challenge you present nags at him, and he decides youre not worth it; he can always ask someone else

But the idea of anything less than perfect, the annoyance of you denying him, it manages to peer through the mind fog several times to the point of annoyance

Fine, he'll say please and apologize, because your craftsmanship is worth it

When he does get his sword, he's even more irked that it never so much as scratches, and works extremely hard to try and break it just so he can tell everyone you aren't as good as they say

It never happens

Obanai

No one could get his concept right

A lot of people thought he wanted what Mitsuri had, which he thought was extremely well crafted, but it wasn't exactly what he needed

Mitsuri had the arm strength to handle a weapon that long and precise, but he needed something smaller, more sturdy, but with 'joints' of weakness

His concept was rejected by many, and his frustration was beginning to boil

When you came up to him, requesting to make it, he had already given up and mentioned he was leaving soon, and not to bother him

Even after leaving the village and resigning into using the typical blade, he was surprised when you found your way all the way out to his mission point just to deliver him a weapon he never asked for

He didn't like that someone had intruded on his mission, but when you were both attacked and he had a chance to use it, he had a hard time being mad

The weak points of the weapon started far apart and got closer together near the top, giving the blade a wave-like appearance that certainly looked odd

But when moved with enough force and velocity, the joints could be bent further to reach around corners in odd ways, following his movements with a latency that let him fit it through impossible holes and bends

It was everything he was looking for and more, considering he only proposed two joints and you'd delivered nearly twenty in a blade as short as seventy centimetres

Hes impressed, but hes still mad you made this journey and put yourself in danger, so of course he is going to take you all the way back to the village

Personally

With no one else

And listen to you talk the whole time

Yea

Sanemi

Sure, swords were important, but he didn't give them much thought

He was always getting new ones because his always chipped, snapped, and scratched with all the force he was putting on them

The blades were built for flesh, but he didn't care, he practiced cutting rocks and throwing the blade like it was some kind of toy

Eventually, his destructive tendancy drove his swordsmith to quitting, as many others had, and he was once again called into the village to find another

The choosing ceremony was skipped with him, since it often ended up with him insulting everyone and picking the person who cried the least

So now he just went from workshop to workshop, looking at what people could offer

Your workshop looked the newest, with freshly varnished wood and some construction materials still left on the side of the den you worked out of

It was just you in the workshop, with new bulletin boards already covered in sketches and schematics, and a shelf of ores labelled by size, strength, and purity

Sanemi figured since you were new, you'd take longer to break and give up, so he resigned to Lord Tecchin whom he had picked and challenged you to have it done by the next day

It was an impossible challenge, but that was the point

Even so, the next day you were at his door by the crack of dawn, not one, but two identicle blades ready for him to retrieve

They were perfect, left matte instead of shining, and sharp enough to cut a perfect lien through the most delicate and loose fabric

Sanemi hated to admit it, but he appreciated that you'd at least already prepared him a replacement

When he tried them out for the first time, he finds they last a lot longer, and it takes him several months for a chip to occur in it

Even then, he has a second one, so for the first time in years, he's been away from the village for more than six months

You're not perfect, but you're certainly good, and he's thrilled to see what more you can do with a few more years of practice

Shinobu

When Shinobu first started toying with the idea of wisteria poison as an effective killing method, the hardest part was figuring out how to apply it to a blade

Injection was most effective, but needles were chunky and harder to get into demons campared to something broad like a nichirin blade

So she was reffered to you, and you drafted up several ideas that you felt she might enjoy

Other swordmen felt it was an insult to the dark, to remove the central half of the blade, but it was the easiest way for her to have something light without shortening the blade or thinning it out and risking it snapping

The planning resulted in a very unique blade but an even more unique sheath

Shinobu hadn't asked, but you lined it with a spongy fabric so that she could fill it with the poison and automatically apply itself along the blade

It had a drain, anti-microbial and anti-rusting additions, and a beautiful handpainted pattern along its outside.

The amount of thought you put into it really astonished her, and while she never had issues with the design, Shinobu made sure to have a bi-annual trip to visit you

Along with the many letters she would send with news and treats from the butterfly mansion

Being able to share her experiences with you with other hashira or corps members gives her a sense of pride, especially when she gets to show off something she used to view as a sign of weakness

Authors Note - I have wanted to write this prompt for SO LONG!! Its a lot of characters, so I apologize but I left out Uzio, Kyojuro, and Haganezuka to focus on those I had the most ideas for!

Thank you for requesting, anon!

[girl-in-the-chairs-void]

Kinslayer

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell!reader (fem pronouns used)

Word count: 2k (she’s a baby)

cw: hurt, comfort, soft aemond, mentions of being naked? ANGST ANGST ANGST, the pov switches between aemond/third person and second person soo if you notice it going into “her” and “you”, it’s on purpose please don’t kill me.

a/n: I really wanted to make the little Drabble into a full fic soo here it is!! Not proofread. Let me know your thoughts!!!

Kinslayer.

That’s what they’ll call him. Rejoicing in celebration after Vhagar mercilessly attacked Arrax and Lucereys Velaryon. His nephew, his kin.

The cold had already seeped through his leather settled in his bones. He felt nothing but the chill of the air as he landed with Vhagar into the dragon pits. The roaring amber of the castle doing nothing to add even an ounce of warmth through him. His eyepatch wet and leaking its colour onto his scar- poorly made for a prince- it seared through him. He took it off immediately, throwing into one of the torches on the wall.

Servants rushed his side, trying to assist him in any way possible but he dismissed them with a stern look before walking towards the small council room. Gods be good, he wanted nothing more than to hide away in his chambers, away from everyone, away from peering eyes of the lords and councilmen, away from Alicent, from Aegon.

But near you. In his chambers where he could be Aemond. Not second son, not ‘The One Eyed Prince’. But only Aemond, your husband. He would take that title to his grave if he could, leaving all his other titles because those titles were given to him on a silver platter, he didn’t ask for them. However, he craved the title of being your husband.

Ever since you were kids. Aemond had taken a liking in sitting in the library with you and talking about history. Sneaking out and taking walks in the Red Keep or the gardens to distract himself from the political side of his life.

You- a simple Tyrell girl who came to Kings Landing when you were only two with your father, Lord Tyrell. Aemond only being three years old had taken a liking to you even when you were only capable of padding on your little feet across the castle. Getting to grow up in Kings landing with the prince and his siblings.

It wasn’t a shock to the realm when King Visereys announced your betrothal to the young prince when you were only eight. Having no idea what the prince held for you in his heart, but you knew he was not one to easily open up. And after what happened at Driftmark, it had taken you quite some time to walk his maze. He’d shut himself out to the rest of the world. Not meeting up in the library or in the courtyard for your usual routine.

So you took it upping yourself to knock on his door every morrow, and supper. Threatening to break in if he didn’t at least take the food into his chambers and eat it.

The first time you saw him after the unfortunate incident, you didn’t flinch. You didn’t scare away in a corner. You smiled at him, slowly approached him and gently ghosted your fingers over his new forming scar. His eye now replaced with a beautiful sapphire- your touch burned, but it burned with a feeling that he wished to experience a thousand times over.

The two children were found sound asleep in Aemond’s bed when the maesters came around to check on the princes health the next morning; wrapped around each other like dragons protecting their kin.

Even years later, he was grateful to have you. He wouldn’t tell it to anyone’s face but his actions always speak for him.

He always seeks you first in large gatherings. Following you like a guard dog wherever he’s in the castle and not away on Prince business across the seven kingdoms.

But today. It was different. You felt it as soon as you heard Vhagars roars through the air, crawling their way through the open window in your and Aemond’s chambers.

You rushed to the dragon pits carefully. The maids trying to assist you but you insisted on going by yourself only to find no one there but the dragons. Your husband nowhere to be seen.

You sighed, an eerie feeling brewing deeply in your gut as you walked back to your chambers and buried yourself in a cloak and settled onto the settee, hoping Aemond would show up.

He didn’t show up, much to your dismay. You had a hunch that he had probably made his way to the small council to report of his business at Storms end.

And so you waited while he spiralled.

…

Aegon looked…proud?

After breaking the news of what happened tonight on Storms End; the small council’s reaction were rather mixed. Alicent shook her head, getting up from her chair abruptly and making her way out of the room. Suddenly finding it suffocating.

His grandsire looked as though he was about to faint right that instant. Holding onto the armrest as he sighed in defeat.

The lords- your father being one of them, looked disappointed as ever. The death of a kin is never a way to settle for peace.

“You did well, brother.” Aegon speaks, the lords and the Hand turning their heads towards him with wide eyes. The death of a child and he did- well?

“I call for a celebration! A feast, tonight!” He declares, arms wide as he gets up from his chair and reached his brother at the end of the table in three long strides. Patting him on the back.

Aemond feels sick, grotesque. He hates this feeling.

He hasn’t uttered a word since his reporting, hasn’t met anyone’s eye and doesn’t want to either. He simply nods, fixing his head up yet not making eye contact and sternly walks away, exiting the room before running to a small corner to empty out his stomach’s content.

He didn’t mean to. He didn’t want to. He was just…

Just what?

There was no simple explanation to why he acted tonight on Storm’s End. He was angry, furious even. But he, a man who is the perfect picture of composure, let his emotions get the worst of him. He was only trying to scare him with Vhagar, a dragon that chose him. He only wanted to show Lucereys how he felt that night on Driftmark when the boy stabbed his eye and left him to whither in his own blood. Vhagar chose him that night on Driftmark, a dragon known for its great size and strength all over the seven kingdoms chose the white haired boy after its rider’s death.

…

He doesn’t return to her, to you. The news of Lucereys must’ve reached you by now, or at least of the feast that Aegon has arranged for tonight.

He should be celebrating, with his brother- the king. But it feel wrong. So, here he is, standing in the corner of the Throne room with a chalice of wine. His mind going a thousand times faster.

Kinslayer.

Kinslayer

Kinslayer.

Kin-

Soft thumbs invaded his hands, plotting a coup and attacking their way into his palms, a finger, then another, weaving through his hand and taking over. His breathing stopped for just a second before he realised it was her, immediately feeling pints of blood shoot to his heart that thrummed erratically through his chest, he could feel the blood seep into his bones, replacing the chill of the rain he had experienced mere hours ago.

You had this effect on him, even after all these years. Of knowing you, through and through. Even the parts of you that are only meant for his eyes, you always managed to quietly make way for yourself in his heart. Not that his heart wasn’t laid out for you in a platter. He’d do it if you asked, rip his heart out and give it to you on a silver platter, it was yours to have ever since his third name day.

He focused back to you, not looking at you but rather feeling the ridges and lines of your palm that was connected to his. The way your thumb traced over his. Your other hand sneaking its way to his arm, up and down, up and down. A steady rhythm that he remembers and tries to match. He took a breath, then another. In and out- up and down. He tensed his feet, held by his leather boots, digging the heel into the concrete ground of the grand hall before your hand squeezed his bicep, once again pulling him back before he could drown in the cold noises of the feast.

He doesn’t say anything, or meet your eyes. Fearing what you might hold in them. Fear? Disappointment? Distaste? Does she see me as a monster now that I’ve hurt one of my own? One of her own?

You don’t. Unknown to him. You don’t know what happened exactly on Storms end, but seeing the way he wanted to be anywhere but here was a clear indication that your husband didn’t mean it. The fear in his eyes was buried deep but you saw it the moment your eyes lay on his tense back and ridged composure.

He never liked Lucereys, but he knows you did. There were only a few people in King’s Landing you truly despised. But oh the Sevens know how much you love those boys. The bastards only have the name Velaryon, yet they don’t carry even an ounce of resemblance to their supposed father. But you didn’t care, you never did.

You loved luceyres like a little brother. Even if you had little time to spend with the Velaryon boy, and Jace and Joeffrey. They were sweet to you. Having looked up to you as an older sister. And you loved them like your own, so when the news of Lucereys passes by you. You don’t think twice before running to find Aemond. He wouldn’t do that to you, right? He knew you love him, and the boys that were like brothers to you.

He never liked them, but he loves you. Gods, he loves you.

They don’t say anything to each other. Not for the rest of night. She keeps a hold of his hand, squeezing it once, pausing, then two and three. A secret language- a code.

I still love you. It dawned on him. Crashed through his chest and broke every bone in its wake.

This fucking war, you curse in your mind. If only Visereys hadn’t died such a death. If only he hadn’t named Aegon as King as his dying wish rather than announcing it at his first name day. If only Rhaenyra wasn’t named heir first.

If only. She knows wishing won’t do her good but the thoughts still linger in her mind like a plague.

She keeps a hold of his hand. Feeling the coldness that he carries, the warmth of her own hand travelling up his arm. Dragons blood in a Tyrell, he’d said once. That’s a rare sight. To which you dismissed as only having warm hands. But your hands had only became warm and dragon like after him. After having to carry his child.

A swollen belly of a princess. You were a sight for sore eyes. But the Gods had blessed you with this child- his child and you nurture them gracefully.

One hand on your belly and the other holding his, you both make your way to your chambers as the feast comes to a close, Aegon, once again, drunkly congratulates his brother for the up tenth time as he exists.

Not a single word has been said between the prince and the princess, yet they both find it more than comforting to not say a word because the heavy tension could be shattered with even a single sound.

As they enter their chamber, Aemond takes a deep- shaky breath. Knees buckling before he composes himself- not wanting to fall on his wife, not wanting to cause further damage.

You notice the way he’s staggering towards the bath. Quickly taking his leather soaked clothes off. He hadn’t changed, you note, it required him to come to the chambers. You walk to his side. Silently, he allows you to undress him, politely gesturing to the servants to bring hot water for his bath. Taking out his night garments for him before standing behind him as he settles into the warm bath.

You’re mothering him, something he’s only experienced with you and not his actual mother.

You quietly ask the servants to leave. Taking the wet rag and washing up the prince yourself. It’s an awkward move sitting on your knees while almost seven moons pregnant, but you don’t mind.

He doesn’t fight it, doesn’t try to meet your eyes. He lets you tear down all his walls and see him naked. Not like you hadn’t seen him naked before. But this- this is a level of vulnerability you haven’t seen in him since Driftmark.

You dress him up, brush his hair and take off his eyepatch and sapphire, noticing that it wasn’t the same one he wore on his way to Storms end.

He kisses her forehead that night, not a single word uttered even then, his lips lingering as he cradles her head. Ever so carefully, like she’s porcelain, breaking at any given moment. He hopes she can’t hear his screaming heart that threatens to burst as he pulls her into his chest.

Feeling the way her breathing becomes more shallow. It pains him to not be able to look at her. To look into her beautiful eyes, look at the bright smile that he wishes she wore. But he knows he can’t.

And you’re the cause of it, his mind screams.

The mother of his child lets her tears escape onto his chest. Silent sobs raking her body and his heart chips and eats him from the inside, not wanting him to see the next sunrise.

But he stays still, he stays because he knows he’s at fault. He stays still when her silent sobs become audible and he closes his eye to let her punch and claw at him- but she doesn’t. Instead she stays too. Her arms like ivy curling around him as he hugs her- squeezes her, once then again.

I’m sorry.

Anddd that is it!! I hope you guys liked it. I am a sucker for soft Aemond and his wife, so what better moment to let him be healthily venerable than this? They’re both a lil fucked up but who isn’t? Let me know what yall think!!

@delusionsofnostalgia ; since you liked the Drabble. This is for u <3

Random tags: @endless-ineffabilities @aemonds-sapphire @firebornfables

[yandere-romanticaa]

・❥・𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬.

what happens when lyney's feelings become too strong to handle? however is he going to deal with his crippling heartache and desire?

yandere! lyney x gn! reader.

This fic was partially inspired by the song "Wanna be Yours" by Arctic Monkeys. Admittedly, he's not the first character I'd associate with this band but I really wanted a snazzy sounding title. I also personally characterize this boy as a lovesick little fool so the song can stay.

If given a better option, most people will naturally chase after that which is more beneficial for them. Be it studies, entertainment or social circles, almost anything in someone's life could easily be replaced in a heartbeat.

That same sentiment could be applied to lovers as well.

What's to say that you won't wake up to your senses one day and leave Lyney for good? He tries to give you everything a person could ever hope for - he spoils you with gifts and his most undivided attention, his words are so sweet that they could rival the sweetest of candies. Unlike the empty candy though, Lyney's words are all true, he means absolutely everything he ever says to you. He can't exactly pinpoint the time when he fell head over heels but that didn't matter. Every time he looked at you it felt as though someone lit fireworks in his stomach, his smooth facade would melt away like ice and he was left completely defenseless. He was weak and at your mercy, he was yours to take and yours to love. Every single piece of Lyney belonged to you, his body, mind and soul, you owned all of him and didn't even know it.

How many nights did the two of you spend under the stars with Lyney by your side, his hot breath fanning your ear as he proclaimed his undying love to you, gloved hands twitching in anticipation to hold and caress your body. He loved to touch you in any way he could, physical affection was something the magician simply needed. If you didn't give him at least his good morning and good afternoon kiss, Lyney would always be in a sour mood, which would force his crew to send someone to fetch you in order to remedy this problem. Yes, Lyney loved you very much, the sweet red apple of his eye.

He just wished you loved him as much as he loved you.

Worry would often plague his heart whenever he'd catch you conversing with anyone that was not him or his siblings. Despite his solid reputation he was still but a humble magician at the end of the day.

Did you wish for something more? Were you not satisfied with him?

There were so many people out there who could give you everything Lyney could not. His ties with the Fatui also do not help his case, even if his motives remained pure. Naturally, he never had the heart to tell you that he belonged to that organization, for he feared that you would leave him right then and there. Lyney would often find himself waking at the dead of night, his mind and body restless due to the dreams he would have. Each and every one was always centered around you and it was almost always the same - he would come clean about everything, his past, his work, ties to the Fatui, everything. Tears would cake his face and he would lower his gaze towards the ground, shame pooling in his eyes. He would turn his back and say he doesn't expect any sort of sympathy from you. With a hunched posture he would take a few steps, the black boots on his feet feeling heavier than iron, the chains around his heart tightening further as the circumstances in his life would force him to leave everything he built with you. Just as the rain would hit the ground and Lyney would feel your arms around his waist, your soft lips pressed against the crook of his neck. You would hold him like that for who knows how long, promising that you would never, ever leave. You loved him, there was nothing that would change that.

Those dreams left him longing for more, his paranoia skyrocketing through the roof and deep into the night. He can't lose you, if Lyney lost you, he...

It doesn't bare thinking about.

As shaky as things were now, they were alright. He was going to make them better, stronger. He was a magician, making impossible things possible were literally in his job description. He would make sure that your love was reserved for him and no one else in this world.

🕊️ TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss

[overly-distressed-mouse]

Okay I'm now home from watching the Barbie movie, so I have to bestow some knowledge upon you fuckers (aka me infodumping actual Barbie lore because there were a lot of references there).

So, first and foremost, in one scene, we see "Earring Ken" and "Growing up Skipper" (very short scene, don't worry if you missed it). But these were actual Barbie dolls released by Mattel way back whenever (See pictures below)

So, "Earring Ken" was actually "Earring Magic Ken". His whole thing was Mattel wanted to be cool and hip with the kids or whatever, so they created him. Except their idea of going out and finding inspiration and information as to what was "hip with the kids", was gay bars. And raves. As you can imagine, Earring Magic Ken did not stay on shelves too long (about 6 months) (though he did sell actually really well and I believe is still one of their most sold despite only being available for such a short time). I'm pretty sure his necklace charm could be swapped out too and also worn as actual earrings. HOWEVER, the part about Earring Magic Ken that kills me, is that because they went to gay bars, not only did they give him a mesh shirt and shit (as seen above), but the charm on his necklace? Is a cock ring. Did Mattel realize this? Probably the fuck not, but that's what it was💕

Growing up Skipper was also an actual doll, and just like in the movie, if you twisted her arm, she grew boobs. She also grew like an inch taller or something. I'm pretty sure she also was not on the shelf long, but she was introduced in the 1970s. So that's fun

Next up, Midge and Allan (who both play slightly bigger roles in the film but here's pictures anyways)

So Midge was Barbie's best friend, and was released specifically because Mattel found themselves faced with high demand for a pregnant Barbie doll. But of course, Barbie can never get married or be pregnant or have kids, because it ages her, and obviously seeming a little older means Barbie is suddenly worthless and unappealing (Woo patriarchy!). So their solution was Midge, who, ironically, ended up being everything Barbie couldn't (which is kind of funny since she's supposed to be able to be any and everything ever). So, them making her only personality trait in the movie her pregnancy, is kind of spot on. She did have actual dolls initially but then seemed to disappear for a while, having been replaced with other "Barbie's best friend!"'s. Actually they also replaced Barbie's siblings several times but that's another post. Midge did eventually return though in Life in the Dreamhouse (See below)

One thing they never mentioned in the movie, however, is that Allan was actually Midge's boyfriend. I don't have too much on him besides that but I think it's worth mentioning.

Anywho, there's my rant on some of the characters in the Barbie movie, if you made it this far, thanks :))

[syrena-del-mar]

Navigating the Conflict in My Stand In: Surrender and Softening in Love

(Disclaimer: Ming/Joe is an incredibly toxic relationship; I fully realize and acknowledge that, but Poom makes a critical distinction in Joe's reasoning, and I think it's interesting to dissect. Also, this is fiction.)

It's been some time since I've written any meta, but I can't stop thinking about the video @poomphuripan shared of Poom making the distinction that Joe isn't giving in to Ming, but rather, his heart is melting for him.

It makes so much sense that Joe would melt at the littlest semblance of 'love.' He was so alone for so long. His parents have been dead for longer than he had them, he has no siblings, and his extended relatives don't care about him. I forget if it's mentioned in the show, but in the novel, Joe had a pretty big crush on Sol, and Sol rejected him quite brutally. Even without meaning to be, Joe is always alone at the end of the day.

Yes, Joe has friends, and yes, Joe made his own found family. But at the end of the day, Joe would return to an unlit, empty home. Everyone else would return to their wives or families, while Joe could only return to the pictures of his parents. Meanwhile, for all of Ming's bs and frightening behavior, he was the only one that made his dream come true.

For the first time, with Ming around, Joe would come home and be greeted by the warmth of another living, breathing person. Joe craved to have a human bond, and Ming was the one who was willing (albeit for his own interest) to give it to him. And he cooked for him. He took up space in his home! He remembered the very things Joe had told him he longed for. They had a lot of good times, a lot of good memories, and a pretty set routine that really integrated Ming into Joe's life. But then they fight, his blissful reality breaks, and Joe dies.

But Joe wakes up from what feels like a day's nap when, in actuality, two years have passed. And what does he find? Ming has cared for his apartment since his death and is unwilling to change anything just in case Joe returns. Ming continues to fulfill Joe's dream of returning to a warm home. So he turns on the lights, and he cooks the same dinner that they used to share for two years. And even in his rightful anger of wanting Ming to leave him alone, he's still seeing that. In the two years since his disappearance, someone still thought about him and hadn't fully grieved him. Ming's brother only confirms that.

Giving in would mean that Joe wanted to end the fight with Ming, when no feelings had changed. It'd be him emotionally surrendering himself, compromising his feelings of being just a double for Tong, and fully conceding himself when he still thought that Ming only saw him as a replacement. While Joe might have given Ming access to his body to pay his new mom's debts, he was still blocking Ming out as much as he could. But that's not why Joe forgives Ming; it's not for a superficial reason to stop the feud. There's a visible shift in how he perceives Ming, the guy who waited two years for him, who protected and filled his home with warmth, just in case he wasn't really gone. His motivation was rooted in the slivers of positive feelings he had for Ming, which allowed him to move past the anger that he held for him.

A quote that I've seen floating around the internet for years comes to mind. "And when nobody wakes you up in the morning and when nobody waits for you at night and when you do whatever you want. What do you call it? Freedom or loneliness?" Joe has had that freedom for the majority of his whole life. It's no longer freedom for him. But even his found family isn't fully aware of the loneliness that would wash over him when he would return to an empty home.

After all is said and done, he sees that only one person knows him intimately enough to understand and learn even the most mundane of his desires. Ming, even with all the toxic shit he has pulled, stood by his word of not letting Joe return to an empty home. For Joe, that was enough. It changes how he sees and understands Ming.

It's also why Sol and Joe would have never worked out.

As Poom said, ultimately, it's not that he gives in to Ming but rather he lets his heart melt when he sees exactly what Ming has done for him in his absence.

Even after everything, Joe still loves him.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch. 2

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

A/N: Wow, I was not expecting that kind of reaction! Thank you to everyone who's interacted with chapter 1; I've had a rough week and you all made my day! I wasn't planning on posting chapter 2 until I was a bit further along with ch 3, but I just can't find it in me to say no to ya'll!

Chapter Selection

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, hurt (no comfort) (yet), will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings (chapter specific): chapter includes a brief scene of attempted assault (which will be labeled for those who'd rather skip it) angst, gun violence, some negative self-talk

words: 1.8k

Jason's first call came at exactly 2:05pm the next day. When I picked up I was immediately greeted by his voice seemingly from the other side of a very large room; “seriously, guys! I'll call, I'll call!”

“Too late!” Dick shouted, clearly holding the phone. “Hello! This is Dick, calling on behalf of my idiot brother, Jason! We met at the cafe yesterday?”

I could hear Jason shouting at someone, but it was muffled like he was under something. “Right … So are you going to put Jason on, or…?”

“Well, Jaybird is under the impression that calling a girl the next day is ‘desperate’ and ‘off-putting’, so we've taken up a poll at the house, and surprise surprise; we need a tiebreaker. Your thoughts?”

Before I could respond I heard muffled grunting; someone in the background shouted “no! Get him!” which was immediately followed by a yelp from Dick as Jason growled a bit;

“Give me that!” A door slammed, and all the other voices were gone, replaced by Jason's gentle, almost shy voice; “... Um … hi … still think this is normal sibling behavior?”

I giggled; “... Starting to veer away from normal now. But it's sweet, they obviously really care about you. And for the record - you can call the poll on the side of ‘it’s not desperate or off-putting'; I gave you my phone number, surely I expected you to use it, right?”

“... O- oh, yeah I guess that makes sense … So yeah, I'm using it. … Hi.”

“Hi~”

After that, I spoke to Jason in some capacity or another most every day. Turned out he was a night owl too. Apparently he worked most nights, so, after I assured him that a text wouldn't wake me, he started preemptively sending me a good morning text around 3 or 4am, so it was the first thing I saw when I woke up.

I loved how he could go off on an impassioned tangent; getting him all worked up over literature was especially cute. He did have a tendency to backpedal after a particularly passionate rant, no matter how many times I pointed out that I liked hearing him so excited. We also kept trying to arrange a day to get together, preferably without his brothers hovering this time, but his work schedule was so hectic that we kept having to postpone.

It seemed a bit unlikely, but I started to wonder if I had been right in the first place; that it was all some really elaborate prank. It certainly wouldn't be the first time an attractive man had played with my heart like that, though it would be the first time one had bought me anything before pulling the rug out from under me… 

Nearly a month into our texting relationship, Jason went radio silent for several days. No warning, just gone. I didn't want to be clingy, but I was a bit worried. He had been so attentive until this, what if something was wrong and I was out here thinking the worst about him?

On day 5 without a response I picked up a late shift at work, hoping to distract myself from the whole thing. It didn't work though, and I ended up trudging home at 2am blasting loud, angry music through my headphones. I was frustrated, and confused, and careless. I didn't notice the man behind me until his hand was around my wrist.

 ❌❌❌ -skip point- ❌❌❌

The world moved in slow motion as I was pulled into the alley. The man's mouth was moving, but I just heard a staticy ring. I tasted copper, and everything was too dark. Things didn't snap back into focus until I felt the rough brick slam against my back and I screamed, shoving against him.

All at once, everything was moving too fast; he was grabbing, I was punching and kicking, my voice was cracking. A second felt like an eternity, I couldn't even hazard a guess how long the fight actually took. But all at once it ended; with a loud, sharp sound that left me frozen in place and my ears ringing, the man collapsed in front of me. Red bloomed across his unmoving chest, and all I could do was stare.

❌❌❌ -end skip point- ❌❌❌

Large, leather clad hands gently touched my shoulders, bringing me back into my body. I slowly looked up, blinking. I immediately recognized the masked man who had come to my aid; Red Hood had made quite the name for himself in his time as a mob boss. I heard something droning on, but couldn't focus on any specific details over the sound of my own heartbeat still pounding in my ears. It took him gingerly sliding my headphones off for me to realize the noise I was hearing was just the next song on my angry playlist.

“Miss? Can you hear me now?” there was an electric quality to his voice. I vaguely wondered why more Masks didn't use voice modulators; it seemed more practical than the standard vigilante eye coverings… 

I slowly nodded. “... Y- … yeah?”

The red helmet nodded once, “did he hurt you?”

I looked down at myself, frowning a bit. My shirt was grimed up from the struggle, and I could feel the cold night air on the back of my thighs; my pants had ripped when I tried to kick the man off me. A shaky breath turned into a sob as I gasped, looking up again.

A million thoughts ran through my head at once. I wanted to scream, to curse, anything! But all I managed was a whimpered; “... Th- these were my favorite pants …”

“... Well, your boyfriend will just have to get you a new pair. Let … let me get you home, yeah?” I flinched as he reached toward me again, a gloved finger gently wiping away my tears. He offered me his hand, easing me out of the alley like a frightened stray cat.

I followed without complaint, turning my music off. “... No boyfriend …”

“A friend then? Someone who'll take care of you.” Red Hood led me to a motorcycle. He unzipped a bag on the back, and held out a red flannel shirt.

A watery giggle slipped out of my mouth and I shakily took it, tying it around my waist. “... I don't even know anymore…” 

“Don't know?”

“Well, I was talking to a guy, but … I think he ghosted me.”

“No!” I jumped at the sudden volume and insistent tone, looking up at him awkwardly.

“... No?”

“I … I just mean … a pretty girl like you's not gonna get ghosted. If he hasn't texted back in a few days there's gotta be a reason.”

I looked away, squirming awkwardly. Did an ex-crime lord turned vigilante really just call me pretty? “... Y- … I … what?”

He was silent for a long moment. I got the distinct impression that he was staring at me, but with the helmet on it was hard to tell. “... We should get you home.”

Next thing I knew, I was holding Red Hood's helmet. I hesitantly looked up as he turned, catching just a glimpse of one of those domino masks the other local vigilantes wore. He moved his bag and swung one leg over the seat of his bike, turning back to stare at me expectantly. The prospect of letting the Red Hood know where I lived didn't seem like the smartest idea, but I was definitely not going to walk home alone after all that. So I slid the helmet on and carefully climbed behind him, placing my feet where he indicated. As I arranged the flannel between my bare thighs and the seat it occurred to me how unexpectedly kind it was of him to offer it. I knew he had been spotted working with the Bats lately, but just because they had accepted him didn’t mean he was a boy scout all of a sudden...

Of course, now that I was on his bike I was faced with the rather pressing concern of where to put my hands. I didn’t exactly have handle bars, and I doubted he was going to drive slow enough that I could stay upright; I would have to lean against him. I took a deep, steadying breath, and placed my hands on his shoulders. Hood froze a bit, and after a moment he reached behind himself to grasp my elbows. He gently pulled me to wrap my arms around his waist.

 “It's actually safest this way. Interlock your fingers, and lean with me on turns.” His voice was so much nicer without the helmet distorting it, even if he was doing a truly terrible Batman impression. 

“... O- ok…” I clung to him, feeling my entire body heat up. I wasn't sure how much of that was because I was blushing and how much was because the Red Hood was apparently a living space heater, but either way I was glad he couldn't see my face. I told him how to get to my apartment, and we sped off.

The roar of the engine and the wind whipping past mercifully drowned out anything we could have hoped to say to each other. I shut my eyes just for a moment, trying not to cry again, and suddenly Hood’s hand was trapping mine against his stomach. “... Hey, this it?”

I jolted slightly, looking up at the familiar building. I nodded, slowly extracted myself from his grip, and slid back onto solid ground. He held a hand up to stop me as I started to remove the borrowed flannel.

“Keep it.”

I blinked slowly, having trouble processing what he said. “... But … it’s your shirt … how will I give it back to you?”

He chuckled softly; “it’s just a shirt.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue the matter any further. I slipped his helmet off, holding it out to him.

“Thank you … I can't believe I let this happen…”

He frowned deeply at that, and his voice shifted a bit from a fake-Batman voice into an actually deep, grumpy tone; “you didn't let anything happen.”

“I'm usually so much more observant, if I had just been paying attention…”

“He would have changed tactics. You did nothing wrong. I don't want you thinking otherwise, got it?”

I sniffled softly, looking down at my shoes. “... I … God, I didn't even have my keys in my hand… I was taught better…”

“And I was taught not to kill. Shit happens.”

I blinked a bit, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. “… I … I guess so. … Th- Thank you … for everything.”

He nodded once before putting his helmet back on. Before I could step away, he reached out to touch my hand again. “Hey. You did everything right, ok? You drew attention, and you kept him off until I got there. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Got it?”

I nodded slowly, stepping back a bit. “… ok.”

“Good. Now, get inside.” He waited there, watching me. Only after the building's front door was closed and locked did I hear his motorcycle speed away.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika

Taglist: @jawdropforkpop

(If you would like to be added to the taglist feel free to let me know!)

[priyajoyyy]

Rough waters

Literally what is that name?

Clarisse la rue x mermaid!fem!reader

Very certain the perspectives makes sense, but may not.

It switches between what reader and what Clarisse are thinking and doing but is always in readers perspective, if parts are wrong, don’t be afraid to let me know.

Sorry about the ending I think it’s kinda shit.

Warnings:

Mentions of past trauma, protective siblings, eventually protective!Clarisse, poor writing, drowning, cannon typical violence, Clarisse isn’t toxic to reader for once 🥰🤩, implied nudity (the mermaids become human at one point and don’t really have clothing but it’s normal to them, they don’t expect any humans to actually see them and I’m not describing anything), mentions of anxiety and loneliness

Clarisse knew there were plenty of mythical creatures living in the forest and waters surrounding camp halfblood, but she had never realised the lake also habituated mermaids, and especially not pretty ones…

Clarisse hadn’t properly seen all of the creatures in the forest surrounding camp half blood drying her stay, mainly because a lot wouldn’t be very favourable to half bloods invading their space.

But she believed she at least knew of most of the other inhabitants of the camp, Chiron made sure to make all the campers aware of which to avoid and which would be keeping and eye on them and stopping them from misbehaving, so she assumed he wouldn’t miss any out.

It wasn’t till the middle of summer she learnt that mermaids lived in the camp lake, hiding away from the halfbloods and only surfacing when they knew nobody was about.

It had been hot the day she’s first seen them, she noticed someone swimming near the rocks while they were meant to be training.

Clarisses younger sister had gone to the toilet half an hour ago and hadn’t been seen since and she thought that it must be her in the waters, skiving to have fun instead of her punishment for their recent loss in capture the flag.

She stormed over towards the figure, expecting her sister to appear clearer as she got closer, only to realise it wasn’t her sister at all, and this person didn’t appear to have legs.

She watched from afar at first, listening and looking to see if she could approach any further.

She had seen you, laying by the side of the beach, your tail laid in the water while the top half of you lounged in the sun on the rock side.

Your eyes were shut, sun bathing and relaxing while what looked like your brother, sat on the rock to your side, watching over the lot of you.

Your sisters were through the bushes, chatting and dancing around, their tails now gone and replaced with legs, and carrying them through the small area of forest they dared venture in.

She watched you for a while, standing hidden behind the trees, looking at your face which rested on your hands and shifted every-once in a while, watching your tail flicker and flow around in the water.

She wasn’t sure how long she was there, observing and waiting for you to do something, but she was shaken out of her thoughts when she heard your sister shouting your name. Waking you up and telling you that they were all leaving.

“Come on y/n” your brother told you as you woke up, “we’re going back”

“I’ll stay a little longer” you responded in a mumble groggily, resting your head back down on your arms again and turning away from your siblings.

Your sister dived into the water then, swimming back up to the surface to splash you with water, laughing, “come on, you’ve done enough sunbathing for today”

You splashed your tail in the water in response, hitting her with water and causing her to swim backwards and grumble.

“I don’t want to, I’ll leave later” you responded rolling your eyes and then closing them.

“We’re not leaving you out here alone” your brother stated simply, raising his eyebrows at you as you ignored him.

“I’ll be fine, promise” you stated, before pushing yourself up and around to face him in annoyance, “I swear, I’ll be fine, I’m sitting by the water, if anyone comes by I can just swim off”

Clarisse knew then it would be a bad idea to try talk to you. But she couldn’t help but want to, she hadn’t felt this way about anyone before, especially not by just looking at them.

She thought about it, and she wondered if maybe it was because you were a mermaid, like how the Aphrodite girls could make people fall in love with them with their charmspeak, perhaps you had a natural version of that?

She had heard of sirens before, tempting people to their deaths with their voices, making people fall so deeply in love with them they loose their senses.

Perhaps you were one of those. Well perhaps not a siren, while there were some dangerous creatures when provoked in the forest, Chiron would never allow sirens to lure campers to their deaths.

But a mermaid that made people fall in love with them? She supposed that made sense.

Yes, that had to be it, it was the only reason why she felt so compelled to watch you, to have the need to speak, to you to kiss you.

“Honest, I’ll be fine” you reassured again, one of the girls in the water, rolling their eyes and finally swimming off.

“Scream if you need help” the boy said in full seriousness, causing you to laugh at his behaviour.

“Oh stop being so dramatic” your sister spoke laughing, giving you a quick grin and diving into the lake.

“I will” you responded as you turned back around to go back to resting, ignoring your brothers overprotectiveness and letting him swim off.

You knew he had reason to be worried, all of you had a distaste for humans and halfbloods, but he knew you particularly had a big fear of them.

You had good reason to be, humans could be cruel, halfbloods in particular, some of them were bitter and hateful, their parents habits reflecting on children they hardly raised.

You’d experienced this cruelty first hand, and ever since, your siblings had been more protective over you, especially when you ventured to the shores of the lake you lived in.

Of course, not all halfbloods were like this, but it didn’t make you any less cautious, hiding in the hidden parts of the shore and avoiding them like the plague.

The only time you voluntarily spent time near halfbloods was when you were trying to save them. Being the one out of your siblings that tended to save the younger children from drowning the most.

You found when they couldn’t breathe, they were much nicer to be around.

You had calmed down again on your rock, relaxing under the sun on such a nice day, you stayed still there for quite a while before you heard a noise.

Clarisse hadn’t meant to step on anything, infact she was normally quite agile.

She had deciding to leave, realising it was beyond creepy that she had been staring at you in silence for as long as she had and that her siblings would be waiting for her, but stepped on a twig as she took her first step.

You jumped up quickly, turning to look around you in fear, noticing her in the trees, frozen with a pained expression on her face.

You went to jump away, flinching as she turned to face you beginning to apologise.

“W-wait stop, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to do that” Clarisse stuttered out, she didn’t know what was wrong with her, she never stuttered.

“I swear I’m not gonna hurt you…I just saw you in the distance and decided to see who was by the lake during training.

Against your better judgement, you stayed for a moment, watching and listening to her with wide eyes.

Clarisse could tell you were scared, despite the warmth you shook, and your hands clenched together onto one rock.

“I didn’t mean to scare you” Clarisse gently told you, “my names Clarisse…what’s your name?”

“I know what your name is” you mumbled, watching the girl like a hawk.

“You do?”

“You make the children do pushups by the lake” you stated quietly like it was obvious as to why she knew of you.

She looked confused at that, how many things must you have seen and she didn’t even know you were there for.

“You were there last week too” you told her, “you screamed”

Clarisse certainly didn’t need help to work out what the girl meant, everyone in camp had heard her scream, and everyone had been receiving the brunt of her anger since her spear had been broken by the new son of Poseidon.

After a long pause, you finally told her your name, Clarisse could tell you had relaxed a little, inching back to where you had originally sat rather than the edge of the rock as far as you could get from her.

You both chatted for a while, Clarisse with lots of questions and explanations, and you with short answers that slowly got a little longer.

You opened up as the time went on, still cautious but somewhat excited to have a friend that wasn’t one of your brothers or sisters.

Eventually you both decide it was time for you to go, both needing to get back to your siblings waiting on you, but Clarisse, not wanting to never see you again after this point, asked to meet again the next day.

Neither of you told anyone about your daily meet ups, you knew your siblings wouldn’t approve, stopping you from going up to the surface for a long time.

Clarisse knew she’d never tell anyone else, word would reach everyone in camp about a family of mermaids living in the lake in a matter of hours.

She also knew you had a large fear of other people. It was clear something had happened to you, and she had a feeling it had something to do with the camper that washed up to shore last summer.

She’d not gotten specifics from you, she always tried not to push you too far but she was so curious. She just put two and two together. The boy was horrid, rude to girls and she even had a couple of her younger sisters complain to her about him in the past, he wasn’t exactly missed by anyone when they found out he had drowned.

Of course she didn’t think you had done anything to him, not intentionally at least. you didn’t seem like you could even touch a half blood without trying to swim as far as you could.

However after observing your siblings around you for only a few minutes, she got the feeling they could certainly have been apart of it.

She knew she couldn’t let any of them know about you, they’d only hurt you and then all the progress you’d both made on her fear of half bloods would be for nothing.

So they continued to meet up on the daily. Sometimes you would wait until your siblings had left to transform your tail into legs, and meet with Clarisse slightly deeper into the woods.

Other times, she’d meet you by the shore, sneaking away after dinner and before bed, even letting you teach her how to swim.

It was a perfect summer, and it certainly helped Clarisse with dealing with the arrival and quick departure of Percy Jackson. And you with your loneliness and anxiety.

Now you just had to tell your siblings…

Ending is kinda shit but I didn’t know how to end it lol, Let me know if you’d like a part 2!! Feel like I have some more ideas but I have a series in the works so may focus on that instead

Taglist:

@slaggylemon @yourmom-25s-blog

[hxnbi]

「 IF ONLY... ︱GOJO SATORU 」

— synopsis: if only you were like your brother... — disclaimers: angst, comfort, platonic

yuji and megumi version | masterlist

— GOJO SATORU

Born from the same womb, your role was sealed from the moment your brother opened his eyes.

Your brother was the first one out of the stomach, therefore officially the "older sibling" by a mere 13 seconds. Though, that was of little importance in the grand scheme of things.

Because that didn't matter. You didn't matter.

Your brother, Gojo Satoru, was beloved, adored, and spoiled beyond any child of the Gojo clan. 

It made sense. After all, Satoru was the pride of the Gojo Clan, the first person to inherit both the Limitless and the Six Eyes in four hundred years.

…As for you?

You were dubbed as the failure of the Gojo clan.

You had no technique and hardly enough cursed energy to see spirits. It's no wonder even your own parents called you a pathetic child and an extra mouth to feed. It's funny, considering how wealthy the Gojo clan really was…

That sealed it for you.

It silently implied you didn't belong in the family and never would. Not the while Satoru was still alive. 

You doubted with every part of your being that your family would ever repent for their actions and start loving you again. Even then, every time, hope still lingered, but it felt like a mere wisp of a dream, a fragile whisper carried away by the winds of despair—a mere pipe dream. 

Every time the "Gojo twins" were mentioned, it was always about how strong Satoru was and how weak you were, not being able to live up to anybody's expectations of you.

You weren't weak. If anything, you were strong, even without having a technique of your own to boast, befitting a member of the Gojo clan. But you were nothing compared to your brother… and because you were twins, it was all people could ever compare you to.

You were but a shadow in Satoru's life, not even worth being named a replacement.

"If only [Y/n] had also inherited at least one of our techniques. It's a shame…" they would say.

The failure of the Gojo clan. It had a nice ring to it… you would sheepishly chuckle to yourself, carefully and willfully ignoring the aching pain in your chest, and instead put on a mask.

Satoru would constantly joke around with you, saying that he must've cannibalized and stolen all the cursed energy from you while you both were in the womb. It was funny at first—to him—but each jest carried a sting of truth, leaving a subtle ache in your heart as the words echoed in your mind.

You were spiteful. Every day, it served as a cruel reminder that you could never escape. You felt hurt, betrayed, and, most of all, forgotten.

But, when everything was all said and done, you couldn't ever find it in you to blame your brother. After all, he couldn't control the circumstances. He just happened to win the lottery, and you didn't—ended up getting not even a piece of the pie, but rather a single crumb of it.

But Satoru still loved you.

He tried his damn best to include you in everything—and you knew it. How he would ask you to come to the family meetings from then on. He succeeded, of course. No one could ever oppose him, but the utter looks of disgust that you would receive painted a canvas of silent disapproval and alienation.

You never did belong there.

You believed you didn't deserve his love, or anyone's love, for that matter. But even so, you couldn't help but accept it as a balm for the wounds of neglect inflicted by everyone else.

Satoru saw, and he knew what you were thinking—and what you thought of him. He would have to be stupid not to. But like the sneaky bastard he was, he kept on playing dumb. That is, during a day of training where you and Satoru were on the field. 

You watched with your legs propped close to your chest and your hand holding up your chin, watching Satoru as he was supposedly “training.” 

You kept close to yourself, eyes eventually fluttering close for just a second. “...” 

"Oiiii~! [Y/n]! What are you doing, zoning out like that, huh?"

You snapped from your daze, only to see Satoru’s pale face right in front of yours, rubbing at the top of your head. "Nothing, Satoru. Now, stop pulling on my hair."

You didn't know if it was just boredom settling in or if you were that fed up with everything of your years of existence, but you finally asked the burning question.

"Satoru."

"Hm?" he turned around to face you. "What is it, [Y/n]?"

"...Why do you stay around me?"

He tilted his head with an 'innocent' expression. But he knew. He always did. “What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Satoru. Why do you bother being around someone like me? I'm only holding you back. Mom knows it. Dad knows it. All the higher-ups know it."

"So?"

You were his twin. Whatever happened to him would reflect on you as well. 

"But that's—!"

Satoru, with a thin line of a smile, edged on. "What's so wrong about it?"

You were left speechless.

"Why wouldn't I play with you? What are they going to do about it, huh? Kill me?" he smirked. “You're my other half, after all."

Something tickled her cheek—a tear. A tear was forming, but you wouldn't let it fall, and you wiped your cheek, which would turn to every few seconds. You started chewing on your lower lip, and your eyes welled up with tears.

There was nothing left of your anger. Everything was gone. But it wasn't sadness that took it. You did not feel anything at all, but your face said otherwise. You could hardly keep yourself together.

The confirmation that your brother cared—saying it all aloud—made you crumble like fragile petals in a gentle breeze. Whether you wanted to or not, every emotion cascaded down your face like delicate petals. Tears escaped your eyes, followed by a hand coming over your shoulder. 

You glanced upward. It was Satoru's, your brother's, hand. 

"Hey, hey, c'mon. Why are you crying about this time, huh?" he teased while his other hand was extended, ready to pull you up. 

Looking at him directly in the eyes, right into those pearly ocean eyes, you couldn't help but think.

“Hah, you were always a crybaby,” he grinned.

You stifled a sniff of your nose, wiping the remaining tears from your face. “Shut it…” you shot back, but that came out softer than you meant for it to be.

A piece of vulnerability.

But Satoru’s hand still remained extended.

And you took it, instinctively reaching out for your brother, just like you always tried to meet the expectations of those in the family. Yet, in that fleeting moment of silence, you not only reached but grasped, succeeding where you had previously faltered.

Gojo pulled your intertwined hands closer together, locking eyes with you. Your breaths were so close that you could feel both his and your every breath. 

"No matter what happens, I'll protect you. Didn't I tell you? I'm the strongest, after all.”

"You always say that," you laughed sheepishly.

"That's because I meant it. Every word."

Of course. You didn't doubt that. You never did. 

While he may be the world's strongest jujutsu sorcerer, Gojo Satoru.

He's still your brother.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

[evilminji]

(O_O ) I sit here. With a Realization.

There.... There might be... ONE(1!) Danny.

Like... Multiverserally. Because otherwise? He WOULD have met himself. Would have had a big ol "Into The Spiderverse: This Time It's All Spooky Boys (Girl, and Other Assorted Genders)!" Lair and? QUICKLY started running into Portals that lead to Not-His-Parents Fenton Labs.

But he doesn't.

He might? Literally be IT. The ONE in countless of countless impossible numbers, monkey smashing on keyboards until you get a story, Impossible Combination. Maybe the Fenton Luck really DID take them out in every other universe. Maybe Maddies family had some near misses of their own. Maybe BOTH.

There is Only One Daniel Fenton.

He Dies At Fourteen.

He defeats Pariah Dark.

He Becomes King Eternal of The Infinite.

It Was, It Is, It Always Has Been.

Why would you need to create more then one? Clutter up creation with dead end roads and possible successors? Let the Zone be punched full of holes? No, no, if you NEED to replace the old king with a NEW one... you really only NEED One(1) soul... don't you?

I've heard it discussed the Clockwork might be Father Time, father of the Endless. Father too Death herself. If we allowed this to be true? Then the Zone is HER domain. Yet? She does not rule it. Why is he HERE? Time still lives. Still flows. He is not Dead.

Thus the Observants.

You may play here, papa. But not interfere. This place is MINE. She created something with the very literal job of watching her father. He's NOT in charge here. She is.

But! She also hates it. Forever chained to one place between places? Never to see her siblings again? Nah. She can delegate.

A Holy King, if you will. Sit on her throne, listen to their problems, nod and smile, then do her busy work! She'll check in. It should not be hard. Right? Just don't do anything crazy.

It Shouldn't Be That Hard.

But Nooooooo. King after Queen after Monarch after Boss! She comes back and they are either insane or NOT who she left in charge! Everything on fire! The newly dead terrorized and not where they should be! Pariah tried to INVADE THE LIVING WORLD!!!

Did he think she'd LET HIM?

Death is miffed. You could even say... annoyed! Possibly so far as even AGITATED.

It's unsustainable, Father. But, what to do? And, well, "Have You Considered Making A Person?" If organic royalty isn't working, store boughts fine. Check the timeliness, sweetie. Death IS your Domain. You can... delay some.

And he's right. She CAN. She shouldn't, there are consequences, but she can. Others may die sooner then they ought too, in place they should not. It MESSES with things. But... yes... yes she CAN.

She... LOOKS.

Finds herself JUST the right soul. She adores it. It's PERFECT.

AND she barely has to nudge things around! Hardly any messes! She's honestly.. kind of excited. It's been so long, since she and her Father worked on anything together. Bonded like this. Will he watch over him? Make sure he sticks to the right path?

Of course Clockwork would.

Anything for his Children.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {2}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: If there's one person you fear most about breaking the news to it is your mother, but you also really need the comfort of home. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, fluff WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three

Wickford, Essex

You had asked Charles and Lando to stay in the car when you pulled into your mother’s driveway but they had ignored your wishes. They had listened to your worries the entire flight and tried to reassure you that the thoughts you had were all the worst possible outcomes, not the likeliest. They reminded you how much your mother loved you and has always been your biggest supporter. Your biggest fear was losing that.

“This isn’t just your responsibility,” Lando said as he took your hand, Charles taking the other. “We got into this together.”

“And we are going to keep doing this together, mon amour.”

The door had opened before you reached the porch and she watched passively and you climbed the steps.

“Is everything okay, sweetheart?” she asked, knowing you had been replaced but not the reason why.

You shook your head and it opened the dam for the tears you had been trying to hold back the entire drive. Of all the people that had the right to know the news, she was the one you were most afraid to tell. You didn’t want to disappoint her the way her parents had been disappointed when she had you.

“Aw, honey, come here.” She opened her arms for you and like a child you rushed towards the comfort she could offer.

“I fucked up, mum,” you confessed as she squeezed you tighter. You had been taller than her since you were a teenager but in her arms you still felt like a small child and it reminded you of just how unprepared you were to do this for yourself, to be the emotional support for a child relying on you. “You should probably sit down.”

You followed her silently into the living room and Charles closed the door behind. She was getting nervous and you noticed how she straightened the coasters on the coffee table with meticulous care to keep her hands busy.

You felt sick as you sat down beside her and reached into your pocket. Lando and Charles floated in your periphery but neither took a seat, opting to stand close while Lando bit his fingernails before Charles pulled his hand away from his mouth.

“What’s going on, honey? You didn’t get arrested in Qatar, did you?”

“Um, no, but I…here.” She frowned as you unfolded the picture and handed it over. A few seconds passed without a reaction as she stared at the sonogram and you couldn’t handle the silence. “I know you worked your ass off to get me into racing and I’ve always wanted to make you proud and I’m so sorry, mum. I have no seat, no team, no job.”

She placed the picture down on her lap and took your shaking hands, squeezing them until you lifted your head to meet her warm eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry that you were so scared to tell me. I know I probably haven’t painted the greatest picture of motherhood and I’m sorry for that. But you are not me, honey. You may not have a seat, but you do have a team,” she said, nodding her head to Charles and Lando before picking up the photo and placing it in your hands, closing your fingers around it. “And you have the most important job in the world now.”

You wiped away the teardrop that landed on the photo and looked back at her. “You’re not disappointed with me?”

“No, honey, you’ve never disappointed me and you never will. I do wish you could have waited a few more years though.”

“Me too,” you sighed, relaxing back into the couch as the fear and anxiety finally flooded from your body. 

“Why don’t you go lie down, you look exhausted.”

You nodded and held your hands out for Charles to pull you to your feet. “Told you there was nothing to worry about,” he hummed in your ear. 

“I assume you are staying a few days before we head to Austin?”

Lando took your spot on the couch and grabbed the tv remote. “If that’s alright with you. It’s probably better to lay low for a few days.”

“You’re not hiding from Max again, are you?”

Their voices faded as you went to the bedroom and curled up on the bed, patting the space beside you. “Please?”

Charles smiled softly and climbed in, opening his arm so you could scoot up against him and drape one leg over his. “Have I told you how much I love you?” 

“Not in this timezone,” you chuckled, tugging his shirt up so you could play with the happy trail that disappeared into his jeans. “But you are welcome to show me.”

“Chérie, your mum is down the hall,” he groaned as your palm caressed him over the denim.

“It didn’t stop you last time we were here.”

“She wasn’t awake.” He brought your hand back up his body to rest over his heart and kissed your lips. “Later, promise. How are you feeling?”

“Like a weight has been lifted,” you admitted with a small smile. “What about you? How are you so calm about all this?”

Charles stared at the roof remembering the moment he found out you were pregnant, the doctor skipping through the information like he wasn’t just flipping the whole world on its head. He had been too stunned to speak and your hand slipped from yours to slam lifelessly against the metal rails. He wouldn’t tell you that part though and when he recovered from the shock he had picked your hand back up, kissing it softly as he made silent promises to you, and the baby.

“Because I love you, and I love Lando, and I always hoped we would have a family together one day.”

You tipped your head back so you could smile up at him. “One day, you mean, far away.”

The hard pillow beneath your head bounced with his quiet laugh. “Good timing has never been our thing, has it, amour?”

It had taken years of pining for each other before anything actually happened and everyone was single at the same time. “I suppose not. But do you know what this means?”

His hand laid atop yours as you placed it on your stomach. “What?”

“I won the bet.”

You woke to an empty bed and laughter down the hall. Now that you weren’t training there was no reason to rise before the sun and go for a run, you had even managed to out-sleep Lando. Rubbing your bleary eyes, you padded to the dining room to see your baby photos spread out on the table. 

“Charles, spot the difference,” Lando said as he held a photo up beside you and laughed. 

“I can’t, they are the same,” Charles chuckled.

Snatching the picture, you turned it over to reveal a toddler sized version of you in a pair of pyjamas and your hair equally messy. “I’ll remember this when your parents get here,” you threatened as you reached for Charles’ coffee only for him to move it from your reach. “Be nice - I’m pregnant.”

Charles curled his arm around your waist and pulled you onto his knee while Lando disappeared into the kitchen. “I know you are pregnant, which is why there is no more coffee for you.”

“Peppermint or chamomile?”

You resigned yourself to their protective nature and answered Lando over the sound of the kettle boiling. “Peppermint, I guess. Did you really have to bring out the baby album?”

Your mum started to collect the pictures back up and pack them into the storage box they came from. “You were a cute baby, and look at the gene pool - your little one is going to be gorgeous too. Have you decided on a name?”

You wrinkled your nose as a steaming mug of tea was sat down where a strong coffee should have been. “No. Last week I didn’t even know I was pregnant and they can’t even decide if the surname will be Leclerc-Norris or Norris-Leclerc.”

“Alphabetical, of course,” Lando scoffed.

Charles immediately countered him. “Everybody knows it’s age before beauty.”

“And here we go again.” You rolled your eyes and warmed your hands on the mug as a thought made you laugh. “I could really shock the world and go with Verstappen.”

That silenced their argument.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you reassured them as your mother went to make her famous blueberry muffins for later. “What time is everyone getting here?”

You were far more relaxed after breaking the news to your mother now that it came to telling Lando and Charles’ family. The Leclercs were coming from Monaco and the Norris’ were driving from Bristol, and you had quietly hired the local Inn for a few nights to house them all. You knew you could trust Mr Gainsbury to keep quiet about what he heard or saw in the pub that was going to be closed for a ‘private function’. 

Lando checked his phone eagerly to see if there were any updates from his parents or for the flight from Nice. “About 3. Max is on his way too, with Vicky and the boys.”

You still couldn’t believe it was Lando who was the most excited to break the news. Your Lando, who avoided any sense of conflict, was itching to tell not just the family but the world that he was going to be a father. It almost hurt to keep him silent, but he understood why you wanted everything to remain private. 

“This is turning out bigger than Christmas,” you muttered.

“This is more special than Christmas. Christmas happens every year, but this…” you could hear the smile in Charles' words as he cradled your stomach, “is our first child.”

You leant back against him and chuckled when Lando pulled your feet up onto his lap to massage them. “I didn’t know you were so interested in becoming fathers.”

“I didn’t know I wanted a McLaren 720s Spider until I drove one,” Lando smirked. 

“Did you just compare our sweet to a test drive, mon cher?”

Lando realised his mistake and quickly tried to back track as you laughed at the attempts to explain his way out. Finally he gave up and sulked while his massage shifted higher up your calves until he found the sensitive spot behind your knees. A small needy gasp escaped at the work his hands were doing and Charles shifted beneath you at the sound.

“I think we should go for a drive,” he suggested in your ear. 

Your eyes darkened at the offer and you smirked as you wriggled on your seat. “In the SUV with the very, very tinted windows, and the seats that fold down into a bed?”

Charles groaned, lightly slapping your thigh for teasing him. “Oui. That one.”

You raced to the bathroom so you could at least brush your teeth and hair to be semi presentable for the planned park up before changing into a dress and grabbing your purse. Both of them were already at the front door when you turned and called out. “Mum, we’re going shopping, do you want anything while we are out?”

“No, thank you,” she replied from the kitchen. “Have fun.”

Lando and Charles shared a smirk. “We plan to.”

Click here for the next part.

[pholla-jm]

So Close, Yet So Far

IMAGINE: SO CLOSE, YET SO FAR ~ LUFFY X READER GENRE: FLUFF Mizpah- the deep emotional bond between people, especially those separated by distance. ********************

Luffy could have swore he saw something familiar. 

Something so familiar that it made his heartbeat increase and excitement fill his body. He would recognize that form anywhere. 

That’s why he didn’t hesitate to run after the familiar figure. Ignoring the calls from his nakama. Their shouts for him fell on deaf ears. 

“Ugh,” Nami groans while pinching the bridge of her nose, “I swear, those ears are just for decoration.” 

Luffy ran all around town, asking if they had seen this figure he saw earlier. He described this person with perfect precision, yet no one had seen them. It confused him, frustrated him even more. 

He could have sworn he saw you. The hope that filled him, just from the thought of seeing you, was too great. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around you multiple times and take in your familiar scent that he grew to love. But you were too far away from him. 

Now that the feeling of hope was starting to fade away, another feeling replaced it. Longing filled his heart. It felt like you were just arms reach from him, but you weren’t. You were miles away, seas away even.

Luffy laughs to himself. It’s not possible that you were here. You were home, at Dawn island. 

“Luffy! What are you doing?” The ship’s cook shouts at him. Luffy was silent, not really hearing his question. Sanji was quick to notice this. “Luffy, is everything alright?” 

Luffy blinks a couple times, finally hearing Sanji’s voice. 

“Yeah. Just thought I saw someone.” “Oh, who?” 

Luffy grins widely, “don’t worry about it.” 

Luffy turns around and walks the other direction. 

Sanji doesn’t push it, but he thought it to be very for him to be acting this way. Maybe he was hungry? Yeah, that has to be it. 

Many, many hours later, the crew was heading back to the ship. Some were drunk and half awake. Some, taking care of each other. Luffy stayed silent the whole time. Something that the whole crew found weird, but decided not to bring it up. They didn’t want to jinx their luck. 

All Luffy wanted to do was head to his quarters and look at some of the things you gave him before leaving. 

“I was beginning to think that no one was going to return to the ship.” An unknown voice calls out once the crew is back on the ship- well mostly unknown. 

An unknown person leaned against the railing of the ship, flipping through pages of one of Robin’s books. 

While everyone either drew out a weapon, ready to fight if needed. However, Luffy’s reaction was opposite. His eyes widened, mouth forming into a huge smile. He could feel his heart start to beat faster like it used to. 

It was you. 

The same you he was looking for just hours ago. 

You looked different though. You hair styled differently, and you had a bit more muscle on you. But your voice sounded exactly the same. 

A deep inhale entered Luffy’s lungs as he couldn’t contain his excitement anymore. “(Y/N)!” He shouts happily and throws himself at you. 

“(y/n)?” The crew questions. Why would Luffy know this person? 

Laughter fell from your lips as you wrapped your arms around Luffy’s body. His arms wrapping around you multiple times. As much as he could, just enough to let you breathe, but enough to feel you as close as possible. 

“Luffy.” You breathe out with a happy smile on your face. It was surreal seeing him again. “I’m so happy that you’re here!” Luffy voices your thoughts as well. “Me too.” 

“OH!” Luffy says pulling away from you, “I want you to meet my crew!” He says, pulling you towards the confused crew members. 

“Who are you?” Nami questions. “This is (y/n), they’re from Dawn Island.” 

“Ooh, so is this another one of your siblings?” The blonde asks. 

Your face scrunches up at his words and Luffy laughs, “nah. They’re more special than that.” 

“Eh??!” The crew shouts at this revolution. 

“So wait… wait. What are you doing here then?” One of them asks. “Well, I got bored of waiting on the island so I went on an adventure of my own.” 

You turn to Luffy with a small pout on your face. You had told Luffy that you would wait for him when he first left the island. But you couldn’t wait any longer. You were itching to leave the island, have an adventure of your own. And then find Luffy on your own. 

“I hope you don’t mind, Luffy. I know I said I would wait.” 

Luffy’s grin doesn’t falter, “I don’t mind! You found your way back to me!” You laugh, “of course. I’ll always find you.” 

“Are you going to stay?” Nami asks. “If you don’t mind.” 

“Of course you’re staying!” Luffy says and relief floods you. You really didn’t want to leave Luffy again. And Luffy really didn’t want to leave you again.

You were finally here, with him. Within arms length.

[bluehoodiewoozi]

KIM MINGYU + "I’m gonna make him sorry"

Your boyfriend stared at you, worry and curiosity obvious in his eyes. You were almost tempted to put your phone on speaker.

“What is it?” he finally dared to quietly ask once he realised you hadn’t said a word in a good five minutes.

You shushed him and offered your sister some last words of encouragement and a quick, “I’ll be there as fast as I can, okay? … Yes, I’ll bring ice cream.”

The moment you hung up the phone, Mingyu perked up. You never were good at keeping secrets from him, so you sighed and told him, “That asshole cheated on her.”

“On your sister?” His eyes just about bulged out his head as his jaw dropped. He recovered fast though and soon the confusion was replaced with an angered frown. “How could he do that? Does he have no shame?”

“Apparently,” you scoffed, equally upset on your sister’s behalf. “He said he’s sorry, but she only found out from the girl he cheated with.”

“Sorry? He’s sorry?” Mingyu’s jaw clenched and his frown deepened. He took a moment to think, glaring at the wall as if it had personally offended him, as you gathered your things to head out. Then, he looked at you again. “Where does that jerk live?”

You froze. “... What?” 

“Where does the cheater live?” You shouldn’t have found him so attractive when he stood up from the sofa and  reached for his jacket, jaw still squared and hands threatening to clench into fists. “I’m gonna make him sorry, that jerk.”

Oh. You really shouldn’t have found that so hot – not while your sister was in the middle of a literal personal crisis. But here you were, a little flustered at the mere mention of your boyfriend defending your sister’s honour.

Processing your silence, Mingyu looked up and raised a brow. “I’m serious. Give me his address.”

“Are you going to fight him? Like… physically?” you wondered, whether your heart was beating fast from excitement or fear you weren’t entirely sure.

He shrugged. “Maybe. Or I’ll just yell at him until he cries like he made your sister cry. Either way, she deserves better.” He reached for the car keys you had just picked up and said, “Come on, I’ll drop you off home before I go.”

You could only stare at him, dumb with adoration for the man in front of you. “You really are the most perfect man I’ve ever met.”

Mingyu blinked, puzzled, before his ears started turning red. “I mean… I’m just doing my duty as her friend…” When you didn’t speak up, he quickly added, “And, I mean, you’re my girlfriend so that in a way sort of makes her my family too and I wouldn’t let it slide if this happened to one of my siblings.”

“I love you so much, you know that?” you finally told him. 

He coughed to cover up a proud smile threatening to appear. “You’ve told me a few times.” 

You chuckled and pulled him towards you by the collar of his jacket. As he came close enough to just barely brush his nose against yours, you whispered, “How about instead of fighting him, you come and help me cheer up my sister?”

Your boyfriend sighed, feigning defeat. “If I must…”

[mx-piggy]

I have recently befriended Noor Ayman (@nourayman), a 21-year-old Palestinian woman living in the Gaza strip. She was studying English commerce at university, but the war has taken her once happy life from her. She has been a lovely person to talk to, and I look forward to staying in touch with her.

Her siblings are Aya, Heba, Malak, Mustafa, Muhammad, Ahmed and Yazan. Her father is Ayman Al-Habil. You can read more about them on the GFM page.

The family has already endured so much in the dire circumstances that so many families are facing in Gaza, such as shortages in food, water and medicine, made worse by the poor sanitation and diseases.

A recent event has been a devastating blow to the family. Their tent has burned down, and the family has been left to live on the street in the freezing cold. Even worse, Noor's brother Ahmed, who is just five years old, was seriously injured. Initially, Noor's relatives took the family in, but they've since kicked them out.

So, the family needs their tent to be replaced, and no doubt they could use money to help cover medical expenses.

The cost of a tent is €2000.

Please donate what you can. The situation is urgent, and this family is suffering enough without this. If you really aren't able to spare as little as the minimum €5, then please share the family's campaign. Help them raise the money they need for a new tent, so that there's one less thing for them to have to worry about.

My heart goes out to Noor. Please don't let her and her family down.