#there's a light a certain kind of light that's never shown on me

[howifeltabouthim]

There was light somewhere, cool precious light, somewhere quite else.

Iris Murdoch, from A Fairly Honourable Defeat

[bravesaboteur]

The more I think about it, the more Laios and Falin's different perceptions of their parents are a case of "same parents, different childhood".

Whenever someone asks Laios about his and Falin's family, he comments on how they treated Falin but never comments about how how their childhood affected him - in fact, he kind of glosses over it. It's Falin that everyone is rallying to save, it's Falin that's Marcille's friend, it's Falin that everyone has a positive opinion of - he's just the weirdo brother that gets to share some of her light sometimes. He's the one who's only tolerated when he's useful in a dungeon. Falin's treatment is a large part of the reason that he left, but it's the symptom of a larger issue.

When we see Laios' thoughts of his parents in his nightmares, it's all about the expectations that he's supposed to live up to: the expectation to stop being "childish", the expectation to get married (to who his parents picked) and have children, the expectation to take over from his father as the village chief, the expectation to adapt to something that he isn't able to be in the way that people want him to. And these are all things that he has had to be told in some way: he had to be told that Shuro didn't like him, he had to be told that told that the gold-peelers were taking advantage of him - these aren't thoughts that just appeared on their own, these are all failures that someone has explicitly pointed out to him and they haunt him. Some of the things he considers his biggest failures are his failure to provide for and protect Falin and those have very tangible examples he can point to.

We get a glimpse of what happens when he fails to live up to his father's expectations when Falin is born. He expects a certain reaction from Laios and when he fails to give that reaction he physically puts him down, dismisses him, and underestimates how much he understands.

And that's something that's shown to be a bit of a sore point for him - people thinking that he doesn't understand something because he doesn't express himself like people expect. The few times we see him snap at people are because people think he isn't understanding something because he isn't reacting "normally".

On Falin's side, the expectations seem to be a lot different - she's the younger one, for one, she's a girl, and she was so young when the fallout from her having magic happened. She too had an arranged engagement, but that was broken off when she was sent away to magic school and since then, their parents only seem to be passively involved in her life. She's mostly been freed of the expectations that their parents had for her in her village - she won't be coming back after all. She understands why they sent her away, she wasn't completely oblivious to the villagers treatment of her and it was, arguably, for the best so she is at peace with what their relationship is for now. But she still wants to go to her hometown and see for herself with adult eyes because she has never really had the space to do that.

I don't think their parents are inherently evil people - the truth is probably somewhere between Laios and Falin's version of the story, Laios' side tinged by too much cynicism and Falin's by too much naivete.

It just strikes me that when he tried to provide the "normal" way he failed, but given the space to do something similar to what people expected of him, but in his own way, he succeeded. He isn't perfect but his efforts are ultimately fruitful and he is able to carve out a place for himself, Falin, and others who had been ostracized like them to call home.

[mrsshabana]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Mr. Crawling x female!reader, fluff ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 800 words. I wrote this just now, I wasn't planning on writing for him so soon but I couldn't help myself. I hope those of you that know of him enjoy it. ♡

It all started at those stupid abandoned apartments. Your friends dared you to go in, and for some reason you did it. Sure it was spooky inside but there really wasn't any threat. Only when you got lost and wandered around the building for hours, trying to find an exit. 

While you were in the building you felt like someone was watching you. Occasionally spotting a shadow moving out of the corner of your eye, or hearing the sound of something shuffling on the floor. 

However, even after you left the building, you still felt like someone was watching you—every second of every day. This feeling was stronger while you were at home, but it would linger out in public, too. 

It was strongest though when you were trying to go to sleep. In your bedroom, with the lights off, and no sound but the night outside your window. You tried to ignore it, not let it get to you, but you'd be lying if you said it hadn't kept you awake most nights. Only falling asleep when your fatigue was too much to ignore. 

And tonight was no different. You lay in your bed desperately trying to get some rest but the feeling of someone else in your room keeps you awake. 

“You okay?” a strange voice calls to you from the darkness. You have no idea what it said but you're certain you couldn't have imagined the sound. 

You shoot up from your bed to see where the sound came from, but you don't see anyone. 

“H-Hello?” you mutter in a shaky voice.

Suddenly a head pops up from beside your bed, “Hello!” A high-pitched giggle emits from the creature's mouth, a sound that doesn't match its appearance. 

The head rises, and it grips the side of your bed with cold-looking hands. Pulling itself onto the bed with its arms instead of standing up and climbing on normally. 

You scream at the sight, instinctively backing away.

The creature frowns, “You scared?” it says as it retreats slightly, “Me sorry.” It has an apologetic tone in its voice, but it's speaking some kind of language you're unable to understand.

It doesn't come closer, staying at a distance so as to not startle you further. As the panic slowly subsides, you take a closer look at the creature. 

It looks like a man, but his hair is extremely long. Stark black and has a silky straight texture - hanging in front of his face and covering his eyes. Though you can see blood on his skin where it looks like his eyes should be. His skin is pale grey, and void of any warmth. And his clothes, though hard to see since he hasn't stood yet, appear to be a tattered black Yukata perhaps? 

He stares back at you with a wide grin. It's that smile that makes him look creepy and inhuman. Though not entirely unfriendly. 

“Wh-who are you?” you whimper, “What do you want?”

He tilts his head to the side like a curious puppy. It seems like he doesn't understand what you're saying. 

“Me not hurt you,” he smiles, reaching out his hand to pat your head. 

You flinch at his touch, not sure what he just said or what his intentions are. Though he doesn't seem malicious. He may look scary but he hasn't shown any hostility when he's certainly had the opportunity to. 

“Um,” you try to think of what to say to him, “Are you the one that's been watching me?”

“...?” he tilts his head again.

“N-Never mind,” you smile awkwardly, “Erm, I'm going to go to sleep, ok? You can sleep on the couch if you want to stay…”

You put your hands together and make a sleeping motion on your pillow, trying to tell him you want to sleep. 

“Rest?” he looks at the pillow then back to you, “Alright. We rest!”

With a smile he lays his head on the pillow next to yours, looking at you expectantly. 

“N-No! I mean - you can sleep on the couch, not in my bed!” 

He just smiles, your words going in one ear and out the other. 

“Ok, fine,” you sigh and lay down beside him, “You can sleep here I guess…”

You try to sleep, but you can feel him staring at you. And when you open your eyes to see that wide smile of his, it doesn't help. So you turn around, facing your back to him. “G-Goodnight,” you mutter. 

“You rest bed… Me rest bed,” he mumbles, “Me grateful.”

You don't know what he just said, but for some reason, you feel safer with him by your side. Who or what he is is still a mystery. For all you know, this could just be another dream.

But a part of you really hopes that it isn't…

[vxmpyree]

NIKTO BEING SWEET AND SMITTEN WITH HIS SPOUSE ?!?!?!!? PLEASE 🙏❤️🙏🙏🙏 I SHALL BE DOWN ON MY KNEES WAITING SIRE PLEASE AND THANK YOU

omg my first ask :D! yap about pining nikto ♡ ♡ if i portray DID in a way that’s wrong/offensive, please let me know

[ join me in death - HIM ]

sometimes, nikto is not present.

he will sit next to you, yes, but it is not always him. the two of you could be sitting down over hot pelmeni. the next thing he knows he’s “waking up” to you laying on his chest, tracing soft shapes into the bulging muscle of his bicep as you whisper about something completely foreign to him. 

the other parts of nikto are not opposed to you being his choice of partner. some of them like you just as much as he does, indulging in your slow, well-meaning touches. but when a certain alter fronts, he comes back to find you refusing to even look at him with your bleary eyes. when you notice that it’s him again, you reach out to hold him, mumbling about the things they said and did.

he loves to sit by your side as you watch russian cartoons or soap operas, repeating what they say beneath your breath as you jot down new words. sometimes, he'll pick on you and pretend that he can't hear you or that you said a word terribly wrong, having you scrambling to defend yourself.

when he is at work, things are different. he cannot be merciful and tender like he is with you with the enemy.

sometimes, it’s hard for him to switch out of that cold headspace. he swats your open arms away as he tracks mud into the home, not caring to answer your forlorn calls. it isn’t until hours later, just before you’re about to go to bed, that he reaches out with a gentle hand. you fold every time, never holding it against him. you are just the amount of quick to forgive and understanding that he needs.

the way he gushes over you is insufferable to his team. when they aren’t hard at work, he’s reading letters from you over and over, showing them your pathetic attempt at russian. it’s cute to him, the slants where they shouldn’t be and unclosed circles. but you have shown that learning about his culture matters, so it does not feel insincere or lazy.

you are too kind to nikto. it is difficult for him to look at you when you beam at him, hands covered in flour as you make him blinis. from scratch! you found a different way to make fucking blinis all because he doesn’t like sourdough. 

as strange as it feels for nikto to acknowledge it, you love him. at first, he was in denial. those hot meals accompanied by light touches for him to fall asleep to could be casual. he’s seen people go above and beyond, only to pin it as something light-hearted and simple. after you said it for the umpteenth time, he started to consider that maybe you did love him.

nikto seldom says that he loves you. he does not bother chatting your ear off about how he feels. that’s your job; unless you tell him things in explicit detail, he doesn't know. no, he’s more for lifting you because something is a little too high in the cabinet, or fixing your wobbly desk leg. and if he really feels that you need a reminder of how much he loves you, he will whisper it to you in tow of a quick kiss or tight hug.

[solbaby7]

Falling Into You

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: swearing, possible typos, sexual themes, violence, blood, angsty but there’s also fluff

summary: A certain Shadowsinger stumbling into love with a woman and all of her many, many secrets.

part 2 to Tripping Over You

[ before you ask, this will become a mini-series ]

—

Days of chaste touches turned into nights of hushed conversations around a crackling fire wearing nothing more than those sorry excuse for night clothes and your hair free from its ponytail. Weeks of getting to know each other; first kisses and second and a third until there were too many to count—too many times pushed up in come corner cloaked by shadows with tongues touching and hands roaming past the respectable limitations but Azriel couldn’t bring himself to slow down.

Every touch was burning hot, igniting a flame so uncontrollable he looked past a few warning signs. The sneaking out at the witching hour with Amren and returning before the sun came up with a fresh glow to your skin and insatiable energy to burn. The mumbled comments about “still getting used to this body” when you’d stumble or lose your grip on your silverware at dinner. You never talked much about your past; something he could probably understand if it weren’t for the way your eyes would darken when he’d push the topic a touch too hard.

All of it, Azriel ignored for the sake of feeling—of having someone to anticipate coming home to and always finding folded love notes with feminine handwriting and a lip mark stained at the bottom shoved in random pockets and fighting leathers for him to find. “You’re staring,” Rhysand points out, a glass of whiskey in his grasp and his free hand was shoved in his pocket. “—and it’s not the good kind.”

“I think she’s hiding something from me.”

The High Lord raises a brow, amethyst eyes scanning the sitting area where the others were; Fey and Cass were hunched in the corner, giggling over the wine they’d smuggled as they filled their glasses to the brim. Mor and Nesta were arguing over something while you and Amren leaned into one another, watching the girls with bright amusement in your eyes as you mumbled commentary back and forth. “Things are still new—there’s bound to be a few skeletons in the closet.” Az hums in agreement but doesn’t offer more information, not about what he’d observed because your laugh was like music, a symphony of flutes and string instruments all playing in such perfect synchronization that deep magic long forgotten rose to get a glimpse of who was behind it.

“You’re right,” The shadowsinger gives in too easily, captivated by the way you light up when your gaze shifts to him, a blush forming when you catch him already looking and Az can’t even remember the conversation anymore when you beckon him closer.

Rhys lingers behind, observing the way you leaned into the spymaster and the love that shown in your eyes was undeniable. Hushed words and shared laughs, hands trailing up the length of your arm, fingers that pull hair from your shoulder to make room for the kisses he placed there. Seemingly perfect if it weren’t for Amren’s watchful eye on the whole thing, otherworldly features scrunching up at the sight of you and Azriel but she shakes it away.

“Rhys,” Feyre calls out, steps wobbly and cheeks flushed from all the wine. “Get over here.”

That night, you don’t leave with Ren.

Staying back with Az tangled in his sheets, lips swollen and cheeks hurting from smiling so much when strong arms cage you to the mattress. He’s shirtless; sweatpants hanging low on his hips and the soft material of your nightgown shifts up your thighs when he settles between them. “I really like this—really like you too,” Azriel mumbles between kisses up the length of your neck, leaving marks and dragging his nose along your frantic pulse. The fire crackled at the other end of his room, a golden glow stretched across the room as you melted in his touch. “I know we’ve been moving a little fast; getting so caught up in the chemistry between us that we haven’t really talking about a few things.”

“Yeah?” You’re breathless, arching into the warmth of the half-naked body above you and the slow drag of his lips trailing the line of your jaw. “Like what?”

“Like whatever secrets you’ve been keeping with Amren.” He feels the way your body stiffens beneath him but he doesn’t let it stop him from staking his claim on every inch of skin he could possibly touch. “I won’t push—not now, but you’ll have to tell me eventually.”

There's an audible gulp, your hands shaky when they rest at his sides but you can't find it in you to form words, only managing a nod and the chaos of your mind calms when he keeps kissing and nipping and tracing the tip of his tongue around the curve of your ear.

Azriel doesn't bring it up again.

Not when you stop sneaking out altogether, waking up every morning with your hair splayed across the pillows and legs tangled in his own. Not when there's obvious tension between you and Armen, her tugging you off into a separate room before breakfast and Ariel can't help but linger close by, shadows slinking under the door to catch a glimpse of her scolding you, shouting at you about the dangers of what you were doing and his confusion only grows. "Ren, I really like him."

"Enough to risk everything?"

There's silence and your head hangs, brows furrowed in frustration as the truth in her words weigh you down.

"I won't let anything happen to him. I just—" Your voice drops so low even the shadows can barely pick up on them but the plea glistening in your eyes says more than any string of sentences. "He makes me so happy, Ren—more than I ever thought was possible for me. Why can't l get a little happiness to? Haven't I given enough?"

Amren softens, eyes clenching and she has to turn her back to you to compose herself. "Of course, but you know that’s not up for me to decide." She rests her weight against the desk, both arms outstretched before her and dark hair hangs past her shoulders. Nothing is said for a while but when she finally does, you shift completely; that steely darkness that would settle into your features when he prodded too hard. You looked regal, utter power radiating from your stance as you glared at your best friend over the bridge of your nose—you looked like Rhys, shifting from a friend to a High Lord. "I have orders—"

"Then, let me offer you a few more." Azriel's brow raises as the authoritative tone, the way Amren can't seem to meet your eye and gone was the stumbling woman with sheepish smiles and butterfly bandages stuck to her knees. In her place stood someone with a voice, a backbone and dare he said it—but the power and the authority to command whatever you damn well pleased. "You get to have your boyfriend, I get to have mine and you keep your mouth shut about it should anyone ask you any questions the next time you're due to report back to Titus." The step you take towards her, finger pointing at her chest; the hint of fear that darts across her unique features. “And I swear to the Mother above, Amren, if you fucking say a word about any of this to him—"

Amren dips her head, words clipped but utterly respectful. "Understood. As you wish."

Azriel’s gone before the two of you leave the room and when you find him waiting at the table, seat open to his right as he poured you a cup of tea. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry, Ren’s just been pissed I keep bailing on her.”

You’re pouring honey and stirring when he slowly asks, “What do you guys do that late anyway?”

“Honestly, it’s mainly a lot of training; this form adapts differently to the fighting style I’m used to and she’s been helping me.”

His brows furrow, jaw working over a steaming pancake and you’re suddenly grateful for how loud Cassian is; not even nine in the morning and he was already laughing deeply, offering jokes and quick quips that has the rest of the Inner Circle snorting over their eggs; too occupied to notice the spymaster trying to decipher a small piece of a much bigger picture. “This form?”

“My form,” You easily correct, a hand reaching out to cup the back of his neck, fingers scratching soothing lines into soft strands of inky hair and he melts like butter under your touch. “Ren thinks I could give your General a run for his money.”

“Yeah, right.” Cass scoffs, mouth full of bacon and eggs, syrup stuck in a clump on a piece of his hair and you can’t fight the growing smile, the giddy grins from the others as the challenge settles in the air. “You’re like a hundred and thirty pounds soaking wet, I’d end you in seconds.”

Amren makes a face, fork scraping against her plate. “I wouldn’t be so sure; she’s quick on her feet.”

He slams a heavy hand on the table, a goading grin growing and he’s quick to inhale the remnants of his plate. “Hurry up, Bambi; I’m ready to win my bragging rights for the day.”

Azriel seems hesitant, watching the others place their bets and rush to finish eating. His grip on your hand is tighter than usual when the whole group settles at the sparring ring and Cass is already inside, shirt off and hair tied in a bun at the nape of his neck. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Have a little faith; you’d be surprised by some of the tricks I have hiding up my sleeve.”

He squints at the words, golden irises locked on you as you saunter forward and Az can’t help but admire the tight training clothes you’d changed into. You radiate pure confidence when you enter the ring, already sizing Cass up and making mental notes of whatever you’d assessed about him. “I swear I’ll go easy on you.”

Cassian scoffs and as if a flip was switched; the playful male she once knew shifted into a warrior, lunching forwards with the speed of a panther but you don’t panic. Azriel is transfixed on the way you move, dodging attacks with such ease it begins to look like you’re dancing; light on your feet and impressively aware of everything around you. Cass changes his tactics and a punch that should’ve surprised you is blocked by a strong forearm and you’re landing a kick to his side of his ribs faster than lightening.

It sobers him, the brief pain that lingers a few minutes after the initial contact and the others watch as Cassian really begins to focus. Strong attacks are sent your way in quick succession, a flurry of punches and harsh swings, legs swiping out in attempts to stumble you but it doesn’t bother you a bit. In fact, Azriel swears he catches a hint of a smirk growing on Amren’s face, grey eyes filled with pride and excitement.

Each move is done with such grace and the High Lady actually gasps in surprise when you use Cassian’s own body against him; stepping on the muscle just above his knee in order to hoist your body up and your legs are draped over his shoulders. For a split second you look down on him before swinging your upper body down, head slipping between his legs and your hands brace on the ground as your legs heave to flip the giant of a man over. On his back, wind briefly knocked out of him, Cassian grunts in astonishment, words breathy when he raises back to his feet but he’s looking at you differently; from head to toe like he’s noticing something he never did before. "How did you do that?"

You haven't even broken a sweat, an eye dropping to a wink. "Shall I show you once more?"

The others are laughing, changing their bets or adding more money to the pot as you and Cass keep on but Az just can't help but notice the way you fight is nothing like how he seen Amren fight first-hand in battle. "You taught her this?"

"Jealous?"

He shakes his head, tone dropping an octave and a breeze bristles through the material of his fighting leathers. "No,” You’re laughing at a frustrated Cassian in the ring, an arm locking his own behind his head and the General makes a passing comment about how alarming your strength was for your body. “But, I'm more than interested in joining a lesson or two—to gain perspective."

Amren goes rigid, slowly craning her neck to face him and the steely expression she bares is enough to have him hesitating; remembering a promise he’d made not to push on matters but he couldn’t help himself and Amren’s sudden change in attitude is the fuel to egg Az on further. "Perspective on what?"

Golden eyes gravitate back to you and the vague replies you give when Cassian asks where you’d been hiding such skill. “On her.”

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Hi! Its me again! I saw your requests were open and was just wondering if you could do one of our Orc Husband Pert'ah gifting us a haircharm/hairpiece hed made? Thank you so much for your time!

pert'ah (orc oc) drabble

this can be a part five to woven bonds or a standalone!

pert'ah gifts you a hairpeice, thats all it really is

warnings/tags: arranged marriage, orc x human, youre getting closer to him everyday

word count-466 words

The morning light filtered through the cracks in the wooden walls, casting soft beams of sunshine across the small room you shared with Pert'ah. You sat near the window, absently running your fingers through your hair as you stared outside, watching the orc encampment slowly come to life. The sounds of heavy footsteps and gruff voices carried through the air, yet inside, it was quiet. Peaceful, even.

Pert'ah had left early, as he often did, to tend to his duties within the clan. You were still adjusting to this new life, far from the bustling human city you once called home. Every day, the walls of this small space pressed in on you, reminding you of the life you no longer had. You missed your freedom, your family—everything that was ripped away when your father traded you away like property.

The door creaked open, and Pert'ah’s heavy footsteps announced his return. You didn’t turn to face him right away, still trying to hold onto the small piece of yourself that refused to accept this situation. But you weren’t blind to the fact that he had never been cruel to you. In fact, despite his intimidating appearance and the circumstances of your union, Pert'ah had only ever shown you kindness—awkward, yes, but genuine.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice deep and gruff as usual, though there was a certain softness in it when he spoke to you.

“Morning,” you replied, your tone flat but polite.

Pert'ah lingered by the doorway for a moment, and you heard the faint rustle of something in his hands. You risked a glance over your shoulder, your curiosity getting the better of you. He stood there, holding something small in his large, calloused hands, his eyes fixed on it as if he were working up the courage to speak.

“I… I have something,” he mumbled, taking a few slow steps toward you. His broken English was always a bit halting, but he tried his best to communicate clearly with you. “For you.”

You turned to face him more fully, your eyes narrowing slightly. “What is it?”

Pert'ah hesitated, his thick fingers moving carefully as he extended a small object toward you. It gleamed faintly in the morning light—a hair charm, or perhaps a hairpiece, woven with intricate strands of silver and delicate beads that caught the sunlight. It looked almost too fragile for his hands to have crafted it.

“I made this,” he said quietly, his gaze shifting between the charm and your face. “For your hair. You… always touch it. Thought you would like something… special.”

You stared at the charm for a moment, unsure of how to respond. It was beautiful, finely made, and obviously took time and care to create. You never imagined that he would notice something so small—how you always fiddled with your hair, especially when you were anxious. The thought of him watching you so closely unsettled you, but the sincerity in his eyes tempered the discomfort.

“I don’t know what to say,” you murmured, still processing the gesture. “Why did you make this for me?”

Pert'ah’s brow furrowed, his tusks jutting out slightly as he thought carefully about his words. “You… are part of my life now. I want you feel… more at ease here. This place, not easy for you. I know.” His voice was quiet, almost apologetic. “I thought… maybe this could help.”

Your fingers trembled as you reached out to take the charm from his hands. The metal was cool against your skin, the beads glinting softly. It was clear how much effort he had put into it, each detail meticulously crafted. You had never been given something so personal before, and the weight of that realization settled heavily in your chest.

“You made this… just for me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his gaze softening. “Yes. Only for you.”

For a moment, you were speechless. You had spent so long building up walls between yourself and him, refusing to let him in, but this gesture—this simple, heartfelt gift—chipped away at those walls just a little. You could see now that Pert'ah wasn’t just your captor, wasn’t just the orc who had taken you from your old life. He was trying, in his own way, to make this new life bearable for you. Perhaps even… a little more.

Wordlessly, you turned the charm over in your hands, studying the way the silver strands twisted together in an intricate pattern. Then, slowly, you lifted it toward your hair, unsure of how to put it in place. Pert'ah noticed your hesitation and stepped closer, his massive hands surprisingly gentle as he reached toward you.

“May I?” he asked softly, his eyes meeting yours for permission.

You swallowed hard, your heart thudding in your chest as you nodded. He moved carefully, his fingers brushing against your hair as he slipped the charm into place. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t pull away. His movements were slow, almost reverent, as if he were afraid to hurt you.

“There,” he murmured, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “It looks… beautiful.”

You reached up to touch the charm, your fingers grazing the beads that now sat neatly in your hair. A strange, unfamiliar warmth blossomed in your chest at the compliment, at the realization that he had done something purely for you. You weren’t ready to forgive everything, or even accept your new life fully, but in this moment, you felt something shift between you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, meeting his gaze. “It’s… really beautiful. I appreciate it.”

Pert'ah’s face lit up, a small, relieved smile tugging at his lips. “I am glad.”

As he turned to leave the room, you sat back down by the window, your fingers gently playing with the hair charm. It wasn’t just a piece of jewelry—it was a symbol of something more. Maybe trust. Maybe a new beginning.

Whatever it was, you couldn’t deny that it mattered.

[lesinquietes]

In which Alucard and his Deity!Darling are on a mission together, and he loses control when she gives him a glimpse of submission🪽✨

18+ (minors dni) // light almost-smut, yandere

Limerence

Alucard pins you beneath him, catching you by surprise. He clutches your wrists with rough claws. When you fall, it’s behind a set of bushes. Before you can sputter and protest, airships, no doubt seeking Hellsing presence, whizz by above you. Their bright search lights are fixed on the path you were once walking. If you would have stayed there, they would have caught you. Given the urgency of your matter, that wouldn’t have been preferable; there’s no telling how many soldiers they would have sent.

Gathered in such an intimate position, he’s shocked you’re not fighting him. He supposes you’ve learned to pick your poison. He doesn’t mean any harm to you… yet.

He waits for you to ask him to get up. You don’t. The ships have long passed. He wonders if you’re simply frozen with anticipation. He knows what that’s like, to be tantalized by the moment.

“That was close.” You mutter eventually. “They’re getting more desperate.”

“They are.” He agrees grimly. “Their interference would have been a nuisance.”

His piercing orbs trace your jawline, watching as you swallow whatever else you wanted to say. Such a pretty throat you have. The blood there is celestial. He’s never tasted the nectar of a deity before. He wonders if it’s toxic to a creature like him. If so, then maybe he was meant to perish like this, at your whim; maybe you were meant to die together.

He refuses to allow his impulses to overwhelm him. You’ve been warming up to him lately. While your edges remain quite sharp, they’ve significantly softened since your first encounter. Without the proper signals, he won’t completely cross your boundaries.

Meanwhile, you adjust beneath him. Inspecting his pale face, you think he’s rather handsome. In the moonlight, even more so. His glasses are off, revealing irises with subliminal messaging, coaxing you to submit. You huff. Vampires are a cocky breed. You’ve encounter his kind in the past. They were the same as him — snarky and sure of themselves… until they weren’t.

You’ll show him. He may be the father of all vampires, but you’re certain you’ve handled worse threats. Contrary to what he might believe, you’re not one to be dominated.

“I could have handled myself.” You whisper, eyes peering into his. “But… thank you.”

He pauses. Your energy is shifting. You’re receptive to him. After endless nights of watching over you, having you grow used to his presence, ensuring that you miss him when he’s not around — are you finally ready?

“You could have handled yourself.” The vampire echoes. “Is that why I was the one to act?”

He dips down, smooth black locks tickling your face. Brazenly, his lips brush against yours. He closes his eyes for the serene moment, taking you in. He’s amused that you don’t pull away. Yes, perhaps you want this, too.

“My sweet Goddess.” He purrs. “Have I not shown you that I’m capable of protecting you?”

You stir restlessly. He notices your thighs rubbing together, unconsciously creating friction in your lower region. You don’t seem to have any control over your physical form. Humanistic sensations are afflicting you. Lust is meant to be a foreign concept to higher beings, isn’t it? You’re reaching for a forbidden fruit.

“You… have done your best.” You admit, frowning gently. “I thanked you, didn’t I?”

“Thanked me!” He scoffs incredulously, planting a ginger kiss to your jaw. “The woman of my deepest fixations need not give me gratitude; she need only give me a fair chance.”

He indulges in your beauty, trying with every fibre of his undead being to avoid stealing a glance at your neck. His mood is different than it was a moment earlier. He wants to feed on you while he fucks you. The urge is damn near unable to be repressed.

“I want to claim you.” He confesses, voice husky and baritone. “But… I shouldn’t.”

He tries to believe what he says. He really, really does. Except he can see the panic rising on your features, and it’s driving his animalistic senses up the wall. It’s the first glimpse of your anxiety. You, a gorgeous creature, trusted a starving vampire to get this close to you.

The vulnerability you’re exuding is intoxicating. It’s making his head spin. He inhales your natural scent. His long tongue flickers out to lap upthe subtle layer of sweat on your quivering throat. That’s enough deliberation. That’s enough abstaining. He’s going to do it. He can’t stop himself.

Maybe you really are a witch, casting spells to lower his locus of control so you can vanquish him when he’s preoccupied. He chuckles darkly. That would be fun. He’s always preferred a mate he can play with prior to totally dominating them.

“My dear… you’re irresistible.”

Alucard’s fangs protrude, and he gradually sinks down to the area above your collarbone. Softly, you moan. He hums approvingly when you bear your neck for him. His mesmerizing orbs become predatorial. He’s dreamt of this moment. He going to guide you into the afterlife with him, and make you his first wife in decades.

At the last second, the tides shift.

From the heavens, a ray of light rains down on him. He notices a second too late. By the time he retracts, and leaps back from you, one of his long legs is trapped in the beam. It severs instantly. Although he doesn’t feel it, there’s a humiliation to the act which causes him to howl.

He skids to one knee and bares his teeth. With a gloved hand, he wipes the drool that dropped from the side of his mouth — evidence of his lust for you. He’s speechless. Rage and vigour twist in his chest.

You’re hovering a few inches above the ground. A bright light pours out of your eye sockets and mouth. You’re grinning at him.

“You didn’t actually think I’d willingly let you turn me, did you?” You snicker cruelly. “Foolish Dracula.”

He growls lowly. You know what it does to him when he hears you utter his name — his true alias from days of old.

“Tempting little witch.” He snarls, fangs protruding from his ajar mouth. “Why do you give me the illusion of possessing you, as if I have not spent countless nights resting on your limerence?”

He lost sight of himself. His safety ought to override his impulses. But in that moment, when he saw how submissive you — a powerful Goddess — were being to his touch, he was a slave to desire. You could have killed him with your offensive light. That excites him. You really are capable of eviscerating Anderson, aren’t you?

You return to the ground. The whiteness beaming from your eyes and mouth also tapers off. You’re back to how he recognizes you in no time, except the smirk hasn’t left your features.

“Can I rely on you to keep your mind on the mission, thirsty corpse?”

He wonders what it would be like to overpower you now. You wouldn’t let him win easily. In fact, he doesn’t know the extent of your strength just yet. You stand a good chance of destroying him. He’ll have to be patient if he wants a shot at obtaining you.

He’s coming around to the idea that it wasn’t the time to turn you. Integra would have been pissed. She was lenient when he turned Seras, but you? And in the middle of a crucial expedition, no less? She wouldn’t have shown him mercy this time. But… part of him doesn’t care; part of him — a deep, hushed voice at the back of his mind — urges him to do it anyways, that a mighty king is more than deserving of an all-powerful queen. It’s you who incites the covetous side of him.

“You can.” Alucard snickers humourlessly. “Until our work together is complete.”

Previous l

[ladykailitha]

The Rise of The Fallen Part 2

Here we are at last, the end of an era. Other than a short Christmas ficlet this is the end for our boys.

Thank you to everyone who tagged along with me for this long adventure.

Part 1

Abbadon reveals himself and the two most important people in his life. And we see a bit of the aftermath.

~

Abbadon: So before I take off the mask and let the whole world see who I am first I want to thank our manager, who the world had only known as Miss Celeste Baptiste. Robin Buckley. She is my rock and as Shane said, my platonic soulmate and twin. We might not be related but if feels like we were separated from birth.

A picture is shown of their fashion plate of a manager. Dark black bob, dark sunglasses, slinky feminine clothes. The woman that walks into frame is not that. She still has the slender frame and sharp features but she’s wearing boxy, masculine clothing. Her blond hair is a choppy bob that frames her pretty face and bright blue eyes. She grins as she sits on one of the arms of the chair and Abbadon puts one arm around her waist.

Robin Buckley: Hey guys! To all my friends and family: gotcha! As if someone as wonderful as me would ever be just some rockstar’s low level PA. Slubs!

I laugh. She winks at me and I can feel my cheeks flush.

KL: Were you their manager from the beginning?

RB: Yeah. Abbadon and I have always worked together since our first jobs. There was no doubt that I was going to be their manager.

KL: Tell us about those first couple of years.

She huffs her annoyance, not at the question but at the memory: It was pretty hard just getting into the doors of dive bars. Like really hard. I didn’t look like a manager and they didn’t look like a metal band. They looked like the dads of a metal band.

She kisses the top of Abbadon’s head.

RB: It was Abbadon who came up with the idea. At first it was just me. I’d dress up like some high powered manager maybe they would stop fielding my calls. And it worked to get them in the door, but the second they walked on stage, they’d get booed right back off again.

The band shifts uncomfortably in their seats at the memory. They all seem affected by the booing. Even Shane Kendrick who exudes sunny by nature.

RB: So I suggested they do the same. Dress up as metalheads and the metalheads will come. It was Abbadon that suggested the masks and hoods. All the members in the band have features that can’t be covered up by makeup to make them unrecognizable.

She starts counting off on her fingers.

RB: Spence’s crooked nose, Shane’s red hair and freckles. Simon’s high cheek bones and sharp jaw. And Abbadon’s hair.

I frown

KL: Is it red like Shane’s or something?

Robin and Abbadon laugh. And even Abbadon’s partner smiles widely.

Abbadon: I was famous for my hair in high school. It was even one of my nicknames. The Hair. So yeah. Hoods were the only thing that would cover it for sure all the time.

KL: Why not a wig?

Abbadon: I allergic to whatever they use for them. I’ve tried all kinds but I always end up with a rash and a bloody scalp.

I wince.

KL: That must be painful.

Abbadon: There’s something else the mask covers. I have distinctive moles on my face and while they can be covered with makeup, it’s still visible in certain lights.

RB: Like the stage lights in a stadium. You can tell there’s a bump there.

KL: So masks it was then?

Abbadon nods

Abbadon: But I never thought to cover the ones on my neck. I didn’t think that anyone would be paying attention to those.

Robin smacks his arm playfully.

RB: And we all saw how well that worked out for you.

Abbadon shrugs, clearly unrepentant.

Abbadon: I got a boyfriend out of the deal.

Then Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin walks into frame and sits on the other side of Abbadon on that arm of the chair.

Eddie Munson: That would be me! He waves cheerfully at the camera. I had a crush on Abbadon when we were in high school so I mapped every freckle, every mole, every line that I could see. A lot.

KL: Tell us about how you figured out they were one and the same.

He grins and Abbadon shakes his head fondly.

EM: I went to a concert of theirs with the friend everyone wants to see the reaction to this video filmed. I grilled the kid to figure out if he was in on the secret, too. But nope. He’s definitely caught on by now, though. He winked at the camera. Sweetheart, I have my own confession to make.

Abbadon looks up at him expectantly. Don’t ask me how I can tell with the mask still on. The best I can figure is that he looks like a puppy. Head tilt and all.

EM: Jeff’s known who you are for almost as long as I have.

Abbadon’s laugh is bright and clear.

Abbadon: I know, babe. He told me that first tour together. I thought you knew.

Eddie turns toward the camera slowly.

EM: Jeffrey Oliver Lawrence, I am going to murder you and no one will ever find your body.

Everyone laughs.

Eddie and Abbadon share a look and Abbadon takes a deep breath. He pulls off his mask, but his head is still down. He pushes back the hood and takes a deep shuddering breath. Both Robin and Eddie take one of his hands and gives it a squeeze. Abbadon raises his head. They give his hands another squeeze and exit frame, leaving Abbadon alone in the hot seat.

He’s a good looking man with an easy smile and yes, very distinctive moles. His hair is floppy and a warm honey brown.

Abbadon: Hey, Dustin. I know you’re about ready to murder me right now, and I can absolutely explain if you’ll let me. I’m really, really sorry I didn’t tell you. Hiding this from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. But I know you. There is no way you would have been able to keep this to yourself. You would have been too excited.

Your two best older guy friends frontmen of their own metal band? You would be vibrating out of your skin to tell people. And you wouldn’t mean to, but someone you thought you could trust would sell me out for a tidy check and whole lot of hurt. Not just me and the rest of The Fallen, but for you too.

I know it’ll be some small consolation, but the first album is about you and your friends. I hope you can forgive me.

Abbadon chokes back tears.

Abbadon: Right. Now that the apology is out of the way. My name is Steve Harrington and I’m 33. Like Shane said, same birthday, year and all. I wasn’t always a metalhead. I only started listening to it because of Corroded Coffin. They were from Hawkins and Dustin highly recommended them to me. So I started listening to them. They were so good that I kept going back to the music store–he rolls his eyes yeah, yeah. Lame I know. But the internet! he waves his hands I wanted a person’s recommendation not some algorithm. And I got really into it.

KL: How long had you been singing?

Abbadon (SH): Since I was a kid. I learned how to play piano, sing, and dance. My mother wanted to me to be a little gentleman. Hell I even had allocation lessons.

My eyebrows shoot up.

KL: Was your mom trying to live out some Jane Austen fantasy through you?

Abbadon (SH) laughs: Something like that.

KL: I’m a little furious about the names, if I’m honest.

Abbadon (SH) throws his head back and laughs. The rest of the band joins in.

Abbadon (SH): I would like to take credit for it because it is so fucking hilarious. But no, that was all Shane.

Astraeus (SK) grins.

Astraeus (SK): Hell yeah it was. Robin hated it at first but once people started using them it just kinda made sense. And the rest is as they say is history.

Abbadon (SH) gets up and moves out of the hot seat to sit with his band.

KL: It must be so strange to be calling each other by your real names.

Asmodeus (SO): Fuck no. We’re friends outside of the band.

Abbadon (SH): I know we don’t have the decade long history of playing together before making it big the way Corroded Coffin does, but we’re solid as friends. We were all invited to Spence’s daughters’ Christening. Shane couldn’t make it because he had another family thing crop on the same weekend, but we support each other.

I am taken back at how fierce Steve Harrington is about the love his bandmates. I can see around him his band relaxes when he takes charge, like a commander of a military unit. They all look up to him, even though Shane and Steve share the same birthday, it’s clear they love Steve like an older brother.

KL: So what’s next for The Fallen?

Azrael (SP): I know fans will be disappointed to hear but we are taking a two year break. We need time for our families to get use to the fact we lied to them for the last twelve years.

Asmodeus (SO): There maybe some heavy fallout that we have to deal with and we don’t want our attention divided like that.

Astraeus (SK): Our music would suffer for it and we don’t want to do that to our fans. We love you guys.

Abbadon (SH): Trust the process. Trust us. I know that seems like a lot to ask right now. But please respect our privacy at this time.

KL: Thank you so much for joining us today. The Fallen everybody!

There is a smattering of claps from the crew and Eddie Munson and Robin Buckley whistle and cheer.

Looking over at the four men that felt they had to hide themselves to be treated with respect in the genre they loved you can see the weight of the world has lifted from their shoulders and they are happy.

*

“Why does Eddie have to record this?” Dustin whined.

Eddie laughed. “You are the self-proclaimed biggest fan of The Fallen, I’m honestly more surprised that you didn’t want to record it yourself.”

Steve bumped his shoulder into Dustin’s. “And it’s not like we’re going to stream it. If you have a bad reaction, it won’t go up on TikTok. I promise.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes. “Pinkie swear?”

Eddie and Steve both held out their pinkies. Dustin used both of his hands to shake on it and then settled in to watch the video.

Steve shifted nervously in his seat as his three best friends in the world revealed themselves to be members of a famous metal band. As they dropped hints about Abbadon’s identity.

Dustin’s face went from excitement to confusion to anger and Steve braced for the explosion.

But it never came. Dustin, for all his bluster growing up, had changed. He waited until Steve’s reveal and his apology.

Dustin’s anger vanished like mist in the morning sun as he watched TV Steve fight back tears about having to keep this secret from him.

He slowly turned to Steve. “Which songs are about me?”

Steve barked out a laugh. “There’s only one about just you. The rest are about you and your friends. The one about you is ‘Brother’. The ones about you and your friends are ‘The Heart and the Flame, ‘My Lullaby’, and ‘Kiss the Girls, Kiss the Boys’, from the third album is about you guys, too.”

Dustin frowned for a moment. “That last one was directed at Mike and Will specifically, wasn’t it?”

Steve shrugged. “It was aimed at all of you. Kissing who you want to should never have to hurt. Boys or girls. And at the time it was also partially about me being bisexual, too.”

Dustin thought for a moment and then launched himself at Steve, throwing his arms around the boy that became his surrogate older brother.

“I forgive you!” he mumbled into Steve’s shoulder.

Steve sighed in relief. He gave Eddie the thumbs up and he stopped recording.

“I almost told you so many times, Dusty,” Steve murmured. “You have to believe that.”

Dustin nodded. “I’m a little hurt at the moment but I think once the shock wears off, I’ll agree with you. But I’ll be grumpy about it.”

Steve squeezed him tight. “As is your right.”

“I still can’t believe you and Robin told us that you were gofers for the record label!” he huffed.

Steve and Eddie laughed.

“As if we would have stayed if it sucked that bad, bud,” Steve said. “We’ve always moved on and up with every job we’ve ever taken.”

“I guess I didn’t really look hard into it,” Dustin admitted. “The rest of us had all gotten these amazing jobs.”

He began counting on his fingers, “Max is a software designer and motion capture stunt skateboarder for all the Tony Hawk games. Lucas recently retired from a decade long career in the NBA. Mike and Will are New York Times best selling children authors. Ellie is a fashion designer that has had her work featured at New York fashion week. Eddie’s a rockstar, Nancy and Jonathan are an epic journalist duo. Argyle has three food trucks and a Michelin star restaurant in LA. And I work for freaking NASA, man, with my wife.”

“I’m still upset you and Ellie didn’t work out,” Eddie groused.

“She got invited out to London at the same time I got the job at NASA,” Dustin said with a wry smile. “We knew then we wanted different things.”

He huffed out a sigh and rotated on the sofa so he was facing Steve. He twisted his fingers together and bit his lip. “When Azrael talked about how isolating it felt that no one in your lives figured out that you were in one of the biggest metal bands in the country, I scoffed.” He looked down at his hands.

“Because I was so sure if I had known anyone in The Fallen I would have guessed,” Dustin continued. “Only I did know someone and I would have never guessed. I was so willing to believe that you and Robin just didn’t have the ambition to chase your own dreams. And I’m sorry.”

Steve, Robin, and Eddie all hugged him.

“Now you’ve got hella bragging rights at work now,” Robin said with a smile. “You’re friends with Corroded Coffin and The Fallen.”

Dustin lit up and started talking a mile a minute, hands waving and grinning from ear to ear.

Steve pulled out his phone and read the messages he was getting from his best friends and bandmates. There had been a couple of rough moments, like Steve knew was going to come from his own parents and maybe even a couple of their group, but they would make it just fine.

The least surprising thing to come out of the reveal was that Chrissy and Robin were dating and had for a couple of months after their trip around the world, but waited until the reveal to come out to tell people.

The most surprising thing to come out of the reveal was that Simon had plucked up the courage from somewhere to ask Vickie out on a date. She said yes.

There were hints on the horizon of another relationship forming too. And judging from Shane’s texts, once Gareth got over the shock of Abbadon being Steve, the two of them were going to be a pretty sure bet.

Nadia was the only one who really took it in stride. But that woman was unflappable. She just calmly sat Spence down to discuss the sudden invasion of their private lives and how to handle all that. Spence had admitted in the group chat that he cried in relief when she took over.

It looked as though The Fallen was going to rise from the ashes of this experience just fine. Hell, they might even get a album or two out of the deal.

Because “The Rise of The Fallen” sounded like one hell of a song title and album name, too. Their future was going to be as bright as their past. He just had a feeling.

~

Yes, Robin flirted with Karla but only to make her blush. She is faithful to her Chrissy.

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @chameleonhair @eyehartart

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @garden-of-gay

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @clockworkballerina

[writesleah]

the way i loved you ౨ৎ m. riddle

౨ৎ mattheo riddle x reader, brief cedric diggory x reader

౨ৎ angst/fluff

౨ৎ after a hard breakup, you had finally moved on and found your perfect man. he was everything you could’ve asked for, but the lingering thoughts of your ex take a toll on you

౨ৎ swearing, mentions of blood and fighting, borderline betraying cedric :(

౨ৎ 1.8k words

౨ৎ if it’s not already completely obvious, i was listening to the way i loved you by taylor swift when i thought of this lmaooo i couldn’t fight the taylor references so there is a couple in here, it’s just my deep rooted swiftie mindset

“hey baby. you look beautiful today,” cedric smiled, sitting down at the slytherin table next to you, a bold move for a hufflepuff, but everybody thought he was far too good looking to say anything. well, some people.

mattheo riddle had the absolute nerve to speak up, as if he hadn’t completely ruined your life only months before.

“alright, diggory?” he snorted, looking your boyfriend up and down with disgust. he and cedric probably could’ve gotten along just fine if it wasn’t for the clashing common interest that seemed to have mattheo spitting as many nasty comments as he could - you, “i see you’re still pissing about with her.”

he didn’t even bother to say your name when he was talking about you. twat. you felt your anger starting to pool up in your stomach, a force threatening to take over until a soft hand placed itself on your hip.

“just ignore him, okay?” cedric smiled down at you, encouraging you to do exactly what he was doing. you nodded.

“it’s fine. he’s just… yeah,” you sighed, scrunching your eyes a couple times before continuing to eat, doing your best to ignore mattheo’s presence on just a couple seats down.

—

“he’s perfect,” pansy sighed, practically drooling over your relationship.

you had shown the girls the card he had made for valentines day, which was honestly the smallest thing he’d done for you on the day. he had a tendency to show his affection as much as he possibly could, making you experience every single love language at least once a week.

“that’s adorable, oh my god,” daphne gushed, reading the card over and over. it was a sweet message where he described his love for you, and it definitely warmed your heart, “i’m actually so jealous of what you guys have, it’s not even funny. astoria, come read this.”

astoria made her way over to the group and took the pale pink card from her sister’s hands, her eyes scanning the words that practically formed a letter with how many cedric had written. the three of you watched as her face contorted into an expression of admiration and light jealousy, her cheeks slightly pink.

“stop it, you’re going to make me cry knowing that i don’t have a man that loves me like this,” she whined, punctuating her words with a small laugh.

cedric was your ideal boyfriend. he was attractive, sensible, smart and kind. he got along with your parents and siblings, and always made sure to compliment you in some way every time he saw you. he said everything you ever wanted to hear, and was just perfect for you, so why couldn’t you get mattheo out of your head?

“i need to ask you all something,” you blurted out, a little annoyed at yourself for doing so, but also relieved that you could get it off your chest.

the trio looked over at you with raised eyebrows, waiting for you to continue.

“what is it?” pansy murmured, her head tilted just slightly as her eyes studied you.

"okay, let's just say... hypothetically, you have the most perfect, incredible boyfriend and could never ask for anything better, but… there’s this pesky little lingering thought about a certain past endeavour that you can’t get out of your head.”

the girls looked at you a little confused, though daphne’s expression quickly hardened. she knew exactly what you were talking about.

“please tell me you’re not still thinking about riddle,” she groaned in disappointment, shaking her head whilst running her hands over her face. the other two expressed disapproving noises and sighs, looking at you as if you’d just told them you were going to kill someone.

“it’s mattheo, what do you want me to do?” you mumbled defensively, helping it would support your case a little, but it just made them give you a glare.

“i don’t get what you see in him. he’s a boring, lazy prick who skips every class he possibly can to smoke weed and get plastered with his equally as boring and lazy roadman gang,” astoria huffed with a small shrug, looking at you with more concern than anything, “all you guys would do was scream at each other and cry about it all, and then go and make out in the rain or something, which i suppose is pretty hot, but it doesn’t make up for all the arguing.”

“you go insane when you’re with him. i didn’t even know it was possible to feel that much, but you definitely proved that it is,” pansy snorted, though it was clear her comment wasn’t really a joke.

you just sighed and brushed it off, promising that you wouldn’t do anything. it was just something on your mind, right?

—

you were walking in the corridor on your own, cedric just having left to get to his class, which was on the complete other side of the school to yours.

“rare to see you without prince charming these days. have you broken up already?”

you knew who it was when the first word was spoken, and after days of trying to get him out of your mind, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“do you have nothing better to do than terrorise me and my relationship, riddle?” you spat, turning around to face the boy, though your expression quickly dropped when you saw crimson blood spattered across his face, “why am i not surprised?”

“wow, last name basis now, princess?” he chuckled, brushing off your comment about his injuries with a small huff of either annoyance or amusement, you couldn’t really tell.

you tried to walk away, not wanting to involve yourself in his antics when you couldn’t trust yourself to not snap without somebody nearby to warn you not to. it was hard to control yourself around mattheo for some reason. probably all the pent up anger you had from the relationship and its ending.

“just piss off. i honestly can’t be bothered with you right now,” you sighed, shaking your head. his face dropped at that, seeming much less entertained now that you had say that you genuinely didn’t want to speak to him. he didn’t like that.

“no, absolutely not. what you’re not gonna do is act like a bitch because you’re in a mood about something,” mattheo scoffed, grabbing your wrist to pull you back, leaving a faint, bloody handprint on your skin, to which you groaned at.

“can you not?” you murmured, trying to wipe it off, but only smearing it across your arm further. at this, he sighed and pulled you into the prefect’s bathroom, the nearest place with a sink.

“here, since you apparently need everything done for you. i see some things haven’t changed,” he tugged your arm under the sink and lightly rinsed it away, rolling his eyes as he did so, and taking the chance to wash his own hands, “you’re a real piece of work, you know that? especially these last couple months. i don’t even know what’s happened, but it’s annoying.”

“what happened is we broke up. i’m not going to be your sweet little angel every single day, riddle,” you retorted, shaking your head and patting your arm dry with a paper towel.

“i still don’t get why we ended things,” the brunette shrugged, as if the comment he had just made meant absolutely nothing, “i mean, you’d probably be sat in my lap cleaning me up right now if we hadn’t.”

his words were a harsh reminder of how much things had changed. if he had come to you battered and bruised when you were together, which he had done multiple times before, you would end up sitting in his lap whilst cleaning off all the blood, reprimanding him for getting into fights again whilst trying to fight the incessant butterflies that flapped around so aggressively in your stomach. you were feeling those same butterflies now, too.

“well… we’re not, so you’ll have to settle for some water and a paper towel. maybe you’ll get a plaster if you can find one somewhere,” you scoffed, trying to act as nonchalant as he was.

“come on, princess, don’t be like that,” mattheo groaned, looking at you with a frustrated expression. you didn’t get why he was still calling you princess. he’d taken the pet name he loved using for you so much and turned it into a mocking insult. that hurt you, you had to admit, how he took something so precious and made it into a nickname only used for when he wanted to be rude.

you glanced over at him, meeting his eyes. those eyes. those perfect, dark eyes that, when in the sunlight, turned into a gorgeous, flowing blend of various chocolate shades that sparkled and told so many tales in such little space. you had to chastise yourself for thinking about him so fondly when you swore you disliked him so much.

“why are you doing this to me? acting as if everything’s just perfectly fine and like there isn’t so much shit between us?” you sighed, running your hands over your face out of pure annoyance. why was he acting like this? why were you okay with it?

“i know you. i know every single facial expression you make. every single word you say,” he muttered, studying your face rapidly, “and i know that half the smiles you show off when you’re with diggory are fake. he’s boring you, i can see that clear as day. at least when you were with me, it was fun.”

you shook your head at his words, a soft huff of disbelief forcing itself out of you. deep down inside of you, you know that everything he was saying was true, but you couldn’t admit that. cedric was your boyfriend, you loved him, didn’t you?

“stop it, mattheo,” you pleaded, looking up at the blood-drenched face of the boy you didn’t know whether you adored or despised.

“i was your first… everything, princess. you can’t just deny that what we had was special,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes as if he was getting annoyed again, his soft facade crumbling.

“what do you want me to do? apologise?” you breathed out in disbelief, looking at him as if he was insane, “if that’s what you want, then this is me standing in front of you and saying that i’m sorry for what happened that night, and it hurts my pride to say this, but i sometimes find myself wishing i could change my mind. is that what you want from me? i’m sick of these games.”

mattheo seemed to pause at your words, each syllable playing over and over in his head as he registered what you had just admitted. it was as if his entire body just glitched, every muscle coming to a standstill, though his eyes flicked back and forth as if he was reading the words from a book. it took a moment, but he eventually cracked a small smile, his head tilting.

“did you just reference a taylor swift song in your apology, love?”

[marypaol]

Piano Boy

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader’s parents were invited to a meeting at the Malfoy Manor, and while exploring alone, she finds Draco playing the piano.

Warnings: Mentions of stress, carrying family burdens, numbness, sadness, nothing much just fluffy :)

Note: No use of Y/N-And also I had to write this one I totally picture Draco playing piano! 🫶🏻

___

Her feet softly patted across the floor, the fabric of her smooth dress surrounding both her and the floor as she made her way to an undecided destination. She went wherever her brain decided, since whenever she came across a corner she would randomly decide which to go: left, right, straight, or back where she came from.

She would never go back, though, but the thought of it being an option made her feel free. For the reason of never going back would prevent her from discovering more, for going back would only make her retrace her steps and see things she’s already seen.

A soft smile laid on her lips, for no apparent reason yet deep down she felt like it was because she felt content at the moment. And her and Merlin knew that it’s been a while since she felt so, the stress from school and burdens from her family heavy on her shoulders.

But all that changed when Mrs. Malfoy invited her family to tea, having a business meeting with her parents but they encouraged her to “wonder around” as if she was a little kid and they wanted to keep her busy. It worked, nonetheless, since her curiosity and wondrous mind got the best of her most of the time. She couldn’t help but smile as a way to say ‘excuse me, while I go explore.’

So she did so, practically skipping out of the room once she was out of sight, mind already spinning on possibilities of things she could see, could touch, (despite that voice she knew would be in her head telling her not to do so) and could think.

What kind things would be in the Malfoy Manor? Would everything be gloomy and mysterious like she assumed, or would things be darkly beautiful, calling her name to come closer until she found some evil chamber that revealed their cruel plans for the world of magic?

I hope not, though I assume they wouldn’t ever do that, she thought. She believed at that moment that the thought was just something that her mind was trying to make her think to make her afraid. But it wasn’t the time to be scared, it was the time to feel adventurous and free to whatever she wanted while her parents talked away on things she couldn’t understand.

Her eyes wondered along the walls, scanning over all the paintings displayed, eyes moving quickly because she wanted to soak everything in. She somehow feared that any time her parents would turn around the corner, telling her that it was time to depart, and she would no longer be able to look, so she took the time she had to admire everything possible.

She ended up stopping abruptly at a certain painting, hanging apart from the others and the table below it holding flowers in a vase as well as a tiny lamp for decoration, the soft light flickering a little bit, providing some sort of comfort to her, the lamp lighting up the painting in the most precious way.

What was the painting of, you may ask? The Malfoys, of course. But that wasn’t what stopped her, some normal family painting in their house. For it was the boy, the one that was one between the two adults, the one that actually had a smile on his face, despite the many snarls that beheld his lips in the past years she’s known him.

But the reason for the smile in the painting was because he was young, his face babyish as his pale cheeks scrunched up because of his mouth stretch of a smile. It made her heart warm at the sight of him, showing a smile that no one really got to see, which was a misfortune for the rest of the school; they deserve to see something so beautiful. His smile was so wonderfully painted, like the painter knew it was something that wasn’t shown often and they wanted to highlight every aspect of it, every beauty piece; which was every part of it. The paint brush strokes on the painting were so delicate, her fingertips brushing over the texture of the paint beneath them, running over his green robes he was wearing. (She would touch the smile she loved so dearly but the painting was far too big, making her wonder how long they had to stand there for the painter to paint them, it must have taken so long.)

But as she looked on, she noticed that there was more family paintings for years that came and went, each one Draco’s face forming into the snarl he held today, each one his lips dipping deeper and deeper into a frown that seemed to permanently take over his facial features. She frowned herself as she walked, watching as pure happiness changed to fake happiness, to slight distraught, to numbness.

As her feet stopped at the most recent one, the one with the least amount of dust on the frame, the frown on her lips dipped so deep she could feel her cheeks hurting from the in normal movement. She knew he was slowly pulled away from pride and accomplishment, thinking back on watching in the Great Hall as his happiness slowly left him, something else, something darker, taking over his chest and taking home there for years to come. Her own chest hurt, thinking about the pain he must be in.

“He’s just a boy.”

She overhead Mrs. Malfoy saying that, not remembering when but sure that she felt just as bad for Draco as the girl did. In fact worse, he’s her son after all and she’s just a classmate that was in the same House as he was. She was sure he knew her name, he seemed to know every Slytherin’s name for the benefit of it, but they’ve rarely talked.

But she knew a lot about him just by sight and noise. But she wished to get to know the real image, not the fake image of his personality, before sadness took over his chest and before the frown took home on his lips.

She wished to know him.

Draco.

It was at that moment, that she heard soft music, piano, if you will, softly playing as if a quiet record was playing behind a closed door, as background noise to listen to to help one focus on something else that her thoughts were interrupted and the frown left her lips, replaced with a confused yet curious look.

She could no longer focus on the painting and thoughts running through her head, however, since the music distracted her from the gentle paint strokes in the frame on the wall.

Her feet stepped away from the wall, her knees hurting slightly from standing there so long thinking about the son of Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.

The music was very soft she could barely tell where it was coming from, her ears almost playing tricks on her from using them so purely. She then noticed how it was around the corner, so her feet took her there, coming in contact with a emerald door, mostly closed leaving just a crack of light from

it being open slightly, the straight line casting on the floor beneath her giving her legs some warmth.

She knew the music was coming from inside the room, the soft keys being pressed so gently-almost hesitantly- as the unknown person played.

She leaned in closer subconsciously, ear angled toward the crack so she could hear the song at its best.

To her horror surprise, her head dropped a little too far and pumped into the door, forcing it open, more light blinding her as she stumbled in, skipping over her own feet. The piano instantly stopped playing, the last note abruptly ending as the person’s fingers quickly brought themselves up off the keys.

Her head snapped up to see the wondrous player that left her tranced to the room she was mistakenly standing in, to find the last person she thought would be playing the piano secretly while his parents talked to hers about business, using words neither of them would understand.

Her eyes widened at the sight. Draco was sitting on the bench, on an all black suit-even the tie was black- and pale hair pointing to and fro, like he was running his fingers through the strands that sat on his head.

His lips formed in both a surprised and annoyed snarl.

“What are you doing here? Poking around I see?”

On her part, she could unhesitatingly say that he sounded very irritated at the disturbance.

She swallowed her throat dry but spoke nonetheless.

“Yes- I mean no, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bother. My parents said-“

“Your parents?” He said, interrupting her despite hes annoyance towards her when she did the same thing to him just moments prior. “Your parents are here?”

She was taken back both by being cut off and his confusion.

“Yes, why didn’t you know?”

Draco shook his head, locks swaying. “Does it look like I did?”

It was her turn to shake her head, looking around the room. It was gorgeous, just like the other rooms on the house but this one had a sense of comfort and melody; very fitting for a music room.

She looked over at him, and his hand was still on the keys, fingers fiddling with it like he had an urge to continue playing.

She found herself walking towards the instrument, leaning her elbows on it as her skirt fell into place at her ankles, the material cool against her tired legs.

She gazed at him as he watched her every move, wondering why she was still here when he clearly gave her signs he didn’t want to have company.

“Did you know that pianos are considered a member of the percussion family?” She asked gently, a soft smile on her lips.

His eyes glanced at hers before looking back at the white and black keys, fingers playing a melody that wasn’t a part of what he was playing earlier.

“No, I didn’t know that.” He mumbled, not seeming so annoyed anymore.

She smiled a little wider. “While now you do.” She said, careful not to leave fingerprints on the what looked like the freshly polished piano.

Draco noticed her slight discomfort, one because of her body weight switching from foot to foot, and two the simple movement of her doing so distracted him from the instrument in front of him.

He scooted over, hand patting the seat as she smiled, walking over slowly and sliding onto the emerald cushioned piano bench beside him.

She then watched as his fingers effortlessly played the instrument, his hands gliding across the keys as if it was water and he was pouring it into a glass, controlling ever drop so it wouldn’t spill everywhere. He had so much control over it, everything he told the instrument to do it would do it without another word.

She couldn’t help but admire, slightly dazed as his long fingers took over the once sitting in silence keys. The music flowed from it, the beauty of the music was all coming from his hands, and that amazed her.

He stopped, playing something that was a part if the song she just heard, and apparently it was incorrect despite it sounding wonderful, and he mumbled something under his breath out of frustration.

“I think it sounded exquisite, Draco. I didn’t know you knew how to play the piano.” She complimented, looking up at him.

His fingers halted their movements from the unexpected commentary and she took the opportunity to place her own hands on the keys, pressing whichever ones she desired and listened as the note came about into the air, spawning to life for her and his ears to hear.

His fingers came into her view, stopping her from doing anything else, and both confusion and hurt poured over her, wondering if she only annoyed him further.

It wasn’t until she felt the soft presence of his other arm around her, his other hand landing on hers as he placed her fingers on the keys accordingly.

“There.” He spoke soft, almost right into her ear and a deep flush washed over her, starting at the tops of her hair strands to her cheeks, deep in her chest, and straight down to her toes.

She then felt his fingers pressing down hers so she could play what he was playing. She smiled slightly, but the concentration on trying not to separate their fingers was the main goal on her mind at the moment.

Once the last note rang in the air, and his foot let off the petal beneath their feet, his hands left hers as his presence left her, and a cold wave flushed over her, leaving her wanting his touch back more than ever.

Silence took over for a couple seconds before she heard the music once again, this time a different song, and her eyes watched as he played.

The song sounded sad, like someone was deep into a headspace they couldn’t leave and was trying to find the light.

Her head dropped slowly, her temple landing on his shoulder, which tensed for a moment before getting used to the feeling of touch.

The soft music and his unique scent took over her, her eyes closing as she unwillingly took the time to rest.

It may have been her imagination, part of her dreams whirling with real life, but she thought she felt another head lay on hers in response, a soft smile stretching on her lips.

-Thanks for reading!

Ich liebe dich! 🩵🤍

[our-happygirl500-fan]

Something that I have kind of noticed is that Donnie & Leo are the Turtles that kind of seem the most similar to Splinter, Big Mama & Draxum

Splinter: Once the hounds sniff out the boys, I ninja them out!

Leo: Relax. We’ll do what we always do. Ninja in, ninja their faces, ninja out.

In most iterations of TMNT, Leo is often arguably the Turtle most similar to Splinter & the same seems to be to be true in Rise as well as we often see similarities between Leo & Splinter throughout Rise with Leo sometimes showing similar behaviour to Splinter or even saying similar phrases to Splinter.

Members of the Rise team have also said that putting Leo in a Lou Jitsu outfit in the episode Many Unhappy Returns was also partly meant to be symbolic on how Leo is the Turtle most like a younger Splinter

Splinter: New York, what a town

Donnie: New York! What a town!

Similarly to Leo, Donnie has also been shown to have similar behaviour to Splinter & has also said similar phrases to thing Splinter has said as well meaning that it could be possible that Donnie picked up those phrases from Splinter in the first place.

Splingter: That is a lie! I taught him that one

Splinter has even admitted that there are certain things that Donnie has originally picked up from him. 

Big Mama: Big Mama never goes back on a deal, she does however alter the terms at the very last second

Leo: My deal was no weapons for you, not me

Leo: We could have if Donnie didn’t change the rules at the last second because he’s a sore loser!

Similarly to Big Mama both Donnie & Leo have been shown to twist rules & words into something that will be in their own favour with Leo willing & being able to use the wordings of agreements so deals end up in his favour & Donnie having been shown to be willing to change a games rules in order to increase his chances of winning.

Draxum: Only a true genius could choreograph this many betrayals AND double crosses

Leo: Triple betrayal! Everybody’s on fire tonight!

It is possible that Leo’s strategic mind & his love of betrayals & double crosses comes from Draxum as similarly to Leo, Draxum also seems to enjoy betrayals & double crosses.

Draxum: Now to do some like removing of one thing attached to another thing

Donnie: Now to do some light removing of a thing attached to another thing

Meanwhile both Donnie & Draxum seem to be similarly scientifically minded with Donnie even saying some phrases similar to Draxum.

The fact that Leo & Donnie both kind of take after the adults in their lives the most is kind of interesting but it also kind of possibly shows that the two of them might possibly be more alike than either of them realise.

[howifeltabouthim]

She used to think about that all the time . . . What it must feel like for someone to be touching your hair. What it must be like to feel free in front of someone.

Taffy Brodesser-Akner, from Fleishman is in Trouble

[judeswhore]

can u please write something abt stealing jude’s hoodies or just wearing his clothes in general 🫠

this has been in my inbox since DECEMBER and i was clearing it out so i just thought i’d post a little something since i’ve had a lot of people ask

this is kinda short and shit but anyway <3

it had become a somewhat subconscious habit at this point. reaching into jude's wardrobe, fingers automatically finding a piece of clothing that was definitely his, whether it be a shirt, a hoodie, sometimes even a pair of his joggers, and slipping it on without even a seconds thought. you'd stopped asking forever ago, had simply adopted the attitude that his clothes were yours so much so that now you sometimes did forget which things didn't belong to you.

not that jude minded, there was nothing he adored more than seeing you kitted out in his things. his tummy turned to mush and the smile on his face almost hurt whenever he spotted you in one of his hoodies, finger tips just peaking out from the sleeves. he liked it even more when you worked the hoodie he was already wearing, off him, fingers tugging at the hem, pulling and giggling until he was slipping it over his head. before he even had the chance to get excited you were undressing him for other reasons, you were pulling it on yourself, head popping out from the hole with that devious grin, chin tipping down so you could tuck your nose away in the collar and breathe him in.

"how do you keep them so soft?" jude would roll his eyes, arms wrapping around you to pull you into his chest, defeated to the fact he'd most likely lose the hoodie for a while. he'd get it back eventually, when it had lost his scent and it's softness, when you found something else of his you liked more and then the cycle would continue.

your tendency to never wear your own things meant jude wasn't at all surprised when you met him at the airport after his flight back to dortmund, your entire outfit one he was certain he'd wore only days before leaving you. he knew for sure the blue hoodie was his, it was relatively new and he distinctly remembered your chastising tone over how much it had cost. the joggers too he was certain belonged in his drawer, grey and a little washed out, rolled a few times at your ankles to make them fit. despite the distance still between you he had a sneaky feeling that the blue socks on your feet were his too, his head shaking as his lips tilted into a smile.

it was almost 3am and he could tell you were tired, face soft and a little clouded with sleep as though you'd not long since woke up, your body bouncing lazily on the balls of your feet. you hadn't spotted him yet, too busy watching a family reunite with their dad, a hand written card most definitely done by the two little boys being waved in the air.

"you've never shown up with one of those for me." his voice startled you, your look of shock turning quickly to a grin, eyes lighting up as the sleepy expression cleared instantly. you practically launched yourself at him, arms around his neck, face tucked away against his throat and his soft "umph" of surprise vibrated through you. a giggled apology was pressed into his skin, lips warm and comforting. "missed me?"

"maybe just a little." jude dropped his bag to the floor beside you so he could wind his arms around your waist, his head turning so he could press a kiss to the side of yours. he grinned into your hair.

"only a little?"

"mhm."

"you sure? because i'm kind of thinking you've tried to clone me." you untucked your face from the crook of his neck, head tilted back to meet his gaze, brows drawn together in confusion. one of his hands came up and tugged at the drawstring of the hoodie you were wearing, his smirk growing. "i'm sure this belongs to me."

you glanced down, brows smoothing over, lips parting and jude was certain you hadn't even realised what exactly you were wearing. he brushed his fingertips beneath the waistband of the joggers, blew out a breathy laugh when your eyes snapped back to his. "these as well are from my drawer and i'm sure those are a pair of socks your nan got me for christmas." you shuffled your feet and sent him a sheepish smile.

"they're the first things i grabbed."

"yeah?"

"i didn't even realise."

"i think you just missed me too much."

"they were at the top of the laundry pile."

"you can admit it, don't go all shy on me, baby." jude watched your eye roll and grinned, dipped his head to kiss you for the first time, soft and sweet before nudging your nose. his smile only grew wider when you tried to chase his mouth for more, lips turning pouty when he dodged your attempted kisses. "i bet you've raided my entire wardrobe haven't you?"

“have not.”

“what’re you wearing under these?” again the very tips on his fingers dipped into the back of your joggers and he watched your nose scrunch adorably, gaze shifting away from his. you dropped your arms from around his neck and instead pushed them around his waist, pressing into him until your chin was pressed into the front of his shirt. jude grinned and switched positions with you, his arms resting loose over your shoulders.

“your clothes are so much comfier than mine.”

“you’re lucky you’re pretty.” he cupped your jaw, ducked down and tilted your mouth up to slot softly over his. he kissed you slow, languid drags of his lips against yours until the both of you were breathless. he kissed the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, the tip of your nose, forehead last before grinning. he pulled the hood up over your head and twisted the drawstrings around fingers, pulled tight until your face was hidden behind the material.

you groaned loudly, swatted at his chest when he again kissed your nose through the little gap.

“you’re also lucky i think it’s cute when you wear my clothes otherwise you’d owe me thousands for theft.”

[imaginariumwanderer]

So I finished the latest story...

This is pretty horrifying from a cookie's perspective. One of cookiekind's main forms of happiness is their ability to express their various colorful flavors/personality. I suppose it's the same thing as tripping a living human of their sentient and individuality. Ego death. Leaving behind hollow flesh

We be committing unspeakable crimes against nature with this one✨

We be crumbling our colleagues while slowly losing our mind with this one✨

On another note, "eyecing" make its glorious return. I have no memory of it being used before the Mystic Flour update. Can anyone point out the other times it was used, if there's any?

????!!!!! OMG HIIII

MORE CJ PAWLIKOWSKI VOICE ACTING YES YES YES

Don't do it, don't give me hope...

I know he's the last to be released u don't need to tease me like that

So the other-space here clearly refer to the Dark side of the Moon, right? Is there any other-space I don't know about? Also, I guess this confirmed Shadow Milk is the only one able to do this astral projection thing. On one hand, it increases his chance of appearing a bit more before his own update, on the other hand, we most likely won't see the other Beasts having any talking-role any time soon

The implications here...

So the Beasts may likely have their own voices of their Light just like the Ancients does. And "Soul Jam"... Without an (s), Shadow Milk is specifically referring to his Soul Jam here, I can't believe my headcanon of the Light of Deceit/Knowledge whispering things to him is becoming true

It's a thing unique to Shadow Milk and not the other Beasts too. Interesting how both the voices of the Light of Truth and Deceit operate differently from the other Lights' (referring to the theory that the Light of Truth have never make an actual appearance since all instances of it in-game were all Shadow Milk's disguise)

... Clownage. Whelp! time to integrate that into my daily vocabulary!

Alright, so we got confirmation Smilk is not only aware of Dark Enchantress' plans but he's actively helping her out. Whenever he's oblivious to her other, secret plans (stealing the Beasts' Soul Jams) or he's aware and already have a counter measures to it though, is still up in the air.

My money is on the latter. Shadow Milk have shown time and time again he's way more knowledgeable than he let on. The way Dark Enchantress was depicted in his previous "play" does show us a certain level of... Appreciation(?) but who's to say he actually trusts her? It really does feel like a "I rub your back if you rub mine and then we'll backstab each other" kind of deal. Now I'm curious about the other Beasts' opinions on Dark Enchantress as well.

Where's Dark Enchantress anyways? We haven't seen her make any on-screen appearance in a while. I, um, I missed her a lot actually. I missed the diabolical meema

Laughing at Wind Archer cookie repeatedly telling Smilk to stfu from the moment they've met. He's saying what we've all been thinking

Also laughing at Shadow Milk basically only here to make cryptic riddles and mocks our Wind Archer. He really does have nothing better to do lol

Yeah that's right, FRIENDSHIP will save the day!

For real tho, tons of intriguing implications about the Ultimate Cookie with this one. I gotta mulls over them for awhile...

GUYS NEW SMILK'S SPRITE JUST DROPPED

HE'S ROLLING HIS EYES. HE'S SO DONE I'M DEAD

"In conclusion, this changed nothing!"

Kidding, kidding! I was getting real worried for Wind Archer there despite knowing full-well it's not crk's style to let something happen to a character unless they're a minor villain or an elderly *grinding my teeth trying not to bring up Elder Faerie again oops too late-*

The unexpected yet sweet moment of empathy Wind Archer have toward the Ultimate Cookie combined with the stunning animation toward the end were definitely my favorite part of this little adventure. Although I half-expected for him to have his magical girl transformation like White Lily and Dark Cacao right then and there-

"Beast-Yeast EP 5 coming soon to theaters near you! Remember to stay tuned, mkay? Okie dokie? Pinkie promiseee?"

[nortsauce]

HERE COMES NORT, YAPPING ABOUT FANDOMS THAT I’M NOT EVEN IN!

(And i’ll be typing the rest here because there are too many slides so read bellow)

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

My LONG ASS rant on how MHA (among other things) fails to present its ab*se victims in a good way,

Starring the todoroki family

So, i know literally no one cares but i feel like it needed to be said: but MHA has a BIG issue with victims of abuse being treated kinda shittily, to making whole arcs about their abusers.

This isn’t a HUGE thing, as the lack of sympathy for Hawk’s abusers was definitely there, but they still were portrayed in a semi-sympathetic light. This is not the main focus however.

I’m sure many could go on and on about Bakugou and Midoriya’s relationship, but thats not what i’m focusing on.

I’m focusing on the most OVERLOOKED and ABHORRENTLY handled dynamic of the Todoroki family

I will be going over each of the characters and why they suck in some way, but as a whole i have to talk about this: Each one of the characters of the family are all victims of abuse in some way, and represent the different ways that trauma affects the victim, i understand that.

All in all, they do a good job of portraying the different ways in which the people handle abuse,

Endeavor being one who never dealt with his past egotistical superiority complex and threw his baggage onto his family/children to live vicariously

Rei being the one who is emotionally/physically damaged to the point of a mental break

Touya being the ex-golden child, and the one who continued the cycle of violence (and misogyny but thats another topic for another paper)

Fuyumi being the one who holds onto an idealized version of a family that possibly only existed in her dreams, being codependent and longing/working to get those “happy times” back with her family, clinging onto smth that was possibly never there

Natsuo being the one who is (justifiably) angry at his abusers, cuts his family off and goes to pursue his own life/dreams

and finally shoto

the one who realizes his role as the golden child is only for his parents to live vicariously, breaks his cycle and is trying to figure out who he is.

These are all great representations of how people cope/handle trauma, and i believe that was on purpose, considering that it also speaks on abuse of children on baselines of being in a famous family.

However, certain aspects are clearly not handled properly; allow me to explain.

Shoto, the youngest of the family, is often seen as the architect of the abuse, as the family was actually quite “fine-living” (i’ll come back to this) before shoto was born.

There were obviously cracks in their family from the beginning, Touya being the golden child despite not being able to physically handle his own power without hurting himself (an allegory i’ll discuss), the fact that Enji (endeavor) basically bought his way into marrying Rei, and of course enji’s complex of being less than All-might.

However, many characters seem to blame the birth of Shoto for breaking the camel’s back, and starting the domestic violence that had already threatened to spill through.

It’s shown through the anime that shoto has a kind heart and never liked enji, due to the fact that he would harm him, his siblings, and his mother,

but for being the tritagonist of this show, we never get to see how he really feels. In all of this, perhaps we could see him feeling guilt for being the reason his family is broken, the possible resentment yet dependency he has for his father, the thoughts on how he feels conflicted yet guilty about his mother and continues to blame himself.

Its interesting how he never stops blaming his father, but regardless we only get his apathetic views on his father and no one else. Its saddening to see the sideline of the victim of abuse while his abuser gets a whole arc. But i’m not there yet.

Moving on we have Natsuo and Fuyumi. I grouped them together because they both have opposite ways of dealing with their trauma, as Aforementioned: Natsuo tries to cut all ties while Fuyumi tries to be a “normal” family with her remaining members.

Both of them have valid ways to why they act this way, and its tragic, however, the way they deal with their youngest sibling, shoto, is disheartening to say the least.

Both of them understand how Shoto was physically abused since he was 5, and neglect to form any sort of connection with him despite his better efforts in natsuo’s case, using him as leverage against his father and nothing more, while in fuyumi’s case, basically presents him in her fantastical version of him in their fantastical “perfect” family life, causing him to have multiple meetings with his abuser and forcing him to relive the trauma so she can have peace of mind.

In hindsight, this is all interesting heavy topics to explore in a character, and i was honestly curious to see how it would be handled

however it all faltered as soon as I saw the hospital scene.

SPOILERS:

After Dabi’s Dance, the todoroki family comes to visit Shoto and Endeavor in the hospital, both of whom are heavily bandaged and bed-ridden.

Despite this all, Rei, Fuyumi, and Natsuo force todoroki, who is burnt and recovering his voice, to get up and walk over to his father’s ward to speak to him.

Shoto, despite being unable to form full sentences, makes it FULLY CLEAR he does not want to be there, by closing the door to his ward, and attempting to leave. Despite his clear efforts, his family makes him go in to talk to him.

this 16 year old boy being forced out of RECOVERING, fully bandaged and barely able to talk, forced to visit his abuser to hear him cry about not being able to fight his own son, depsite also being his son and physically harmed by him since childhood.

In my opinion that wasn’t a good move on any of the family’s part.

Rei is a difficult subject to discuss. She is clearly a victim and has been for. while. She is mentally distant after being harmed for so long and spent time in a psyche-ward to handle herself.

Saying that she was a bad mother would be too far in my opinion, as she did her best to provide a nice life for her kids as well as defend them from her husband.

Not much is said about her, but from what we can tell she loved her kids very much, until the abuse started.

I feel the blame for shoto began with her, not being able to face her own son after the “death” of her first and the fact that his face reminded her of the abuse she’s faced from endeavor.

Her character is honestly an interesting one, but she is not safe from my scrutiny of the hospital scene. She was very brave for facing her abuser like this, however, she did not have to drag her bedridden youngest into the fray.

She is the DIRECT reason shoto has a scar on her face, (indirectly endeavor’s fault)

But i will never blame her for the abuse she faced for her children, by her husband and to an extent, her own son touya, which leads me into my next point

SPOILERS

Touya, aka Dabi, is the “Late” eldest brother who was originally Endeavor’s ticket into living vicariously to defeat all-might and be the number 1 hero.

I could go into the psychology of his character but he is ultimately very interesting. In all honesty the way he is presented as being the consequences of endeavor’s actions is palpable and honestly quite raw. At a young age, he was handling the pressure of being his father’s perfect creation, and the fame and fortune that followed as he sought his father’s approval. Soon, his quirk began to burn him every time he used it, a fact that endeavor ignored to pursue his goal. Touya’s power became self-harm at some point, an allegory for his disregard for his own life and well-being for his father’s dream which ultimately (literally) exploded on itself.

Touya’s story is interesting, from his abuse causing him to act like his father craving his approval, which lead him to act put against his mother and shoto, while laying his baggage onto his younger siblings, to losing his mind and realizing that he wanted his father dead and continuing the cycle of abuse further.

This is all a deep and interesting way to look at abuse and how the abused may become an abuser, HOWEVER.

MY critique here, is how sidelined his whole arc is, as his story is more portrayed of Endeavor’s past coming to haunt him, all for the watcher to sympathize with endeavor rather than understand how the abuse endeavor put onto touya made dabi. This whole arc was framed to be sympathetic towards endeavor, and to fear Dabi. Don’t even get me started on how Shoto’s feelings meant nothing in this arc, as well as being immediately cut off by a surprise cameo of a character that possibly discredited Dabi’s expose video on his abuser.

Finally, we get to talk about the elephant in the room: Enji Todoroki, endeavor himself.

What is there not to say about this man.

I feel I should start eith the obvious:

The forgiveness/sympathy arc for endeavor was quite possibly the worst thing to ever happen in the anime, and this is not subjective.

The whole arc is based around how Endeavor is a victim of his own mind and is trying his hardest to make up for being a terrible person.

Personally, i love to see character arcs of villains becoming a better person, but thats the very thing: Endeavor is trying to ask for forgiveness from his family, who he abused for 15 YEARS. This is no exaggeration as Shoto is now 16, and his cracks started forming as soon as he was born.

Endeavor had illegally married a woman that he basically bought his way into,

was illegally “breeding” (eugh) for quirk benefits,

Treated one of his son’s like a vicarious version of himself

Physically abused his son (age 5+) his wife, and verbally abused the rest of his children

isolated his son

treated his son like a weapon

and finally felt too prideful for any sort of meaningful apology.

This all adds up to a character who only felt sorry for his actions after the consequences started hitting him in the face, as he only felt remorseful when Shoto refused to be associated with him.

Now, some of you may be thinking: “A lot of characters are forgiven for more, why would he be the exception? It’s fictional why do you care?”

There are several reasons to why I care but i’ll speak in terms of framing for now. This show is highly influential to not only kids (as it is a KIDS SHOW) but to adults as well. May i direct your attention to the man who saved a woman from a murderous ex-boyfriend by blocking his machete hits all because My Hero Academia inspired him to take action and be a hero?

Or how about a murder that took place because the accused was inspired by an invader zim episode (the dark harvest)

Whether you like it or not, fiction HAS an affect on reality. Yes, we can determine what is real and what is fake, but you cannot deny that a lot of what media we consume helps us be who we are.

If the show promotes more sympathy towards an abuser than their victims, then people may find themselves sympathizing real world abusers over the voices of victims.

I wont speak on delicate subjects but I can already see affects of this happening, as people rally to defend famous people accused of being abusers rather than listen and provide support to the alleged victims.

In conclusion, These topics are definitely not easy to write, and I, for one, am NO expert and my word should not be used as gospel truth or a guideline on how to write these characters.

This is all simply my opinion on how the bias towards abusers in the show leads for the message to be skewed and marred in action.

I understand that no one is perfect, but if we only reward and sympathize with those who only seek redemption after they face scrutiny, then we lose the meaning of what makes someone worthy of forgiveness.

These topics are deep and interesting, but the way they are handled in this show is simply bad writing.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk and again: no shade towards the writers. Just critiques!

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hi lovely, how are you? Is it possible i request something with immense amounts of ✨fluff✨(with any character you feel like writing for because I love everyone tbh)? Like, i need it these past two weeks were absolutely terrible and now i can barely breathe because it feels like im being stabbed in my left side every inhale/movement. Anyway I hope you're doing great 🩷🩷🩷🩷

I apologize that it had taken me so long but still hope this makes your day even a little bit better.

The library

“And this is the library”, Helion muttered under his breath. If only his friends would see him now. He was a mess. Had been. Ever since you walked through the door of the sanctuary, seeking a safe place to stay now that Autumn had been filled with unease and rebellious anger. Yes, he had servants that usually showed every guest around. But there was something about you. And he had been so utterly lonely. Stuck between these white walls.

You let out a gasp as you stepped in. The high shelves hugged everyone's wall. Lush greenery fell from the arrangements in the middle. It felt as if you had stepped into a dream. “You said you liked books during our lunch yesterday”, Helion gently guided you deeper into the room, “So, I thought you would like to see it”. You shook your head slightly, “This is.. magical. I don’t think I have words to describe it”.

A sense of pride bloomed deep within Helion’s chest, “I’ve never let anyone into my private library before”. You turned to face him quickly, “This isn’t the library your court is known for?”, the lord simply shook his head as you gapped at him. you had head stories. You knew that the high lord took pride in his collection but you didn’t know he had a part of that tucked somewhere away just for him. “Why would you take me here?”, you asked only afterward realizing how silly and almost rude the question sounded.

Yes, he had been nothing but kind to you. Yes, he had gone out of his way to ensure that you were safe and comfortable. But he was the high lord and you were just an ordinary from a foreign court. “I won’t be able to repay you for…”, you breathed out and something so sad washed over the high lord’s face. “Do you think I’m doing all this to get something out of you?”, he asked quietly. He was known for his reputation. The flirting. The passion he carried into his relationships. But through the weeks with him, you hadn’t caught a single sign that would lead you to believe that he wasn’t genuine with you.

“I apologize if I came across as desperate”, Helion frowned slightly. “Oh, no! Mother above, I would never think that”, you breathed out, a wave of fear washing over you. “It’s just… bad experience from the past. Autumn isn’t the sweetest of places”, you admitted. Helion nodded in agreement, “It just felt like light calling to light when I saw you”, he breathed out.

“Made me realize that I do not have people close to me, people I like spending time with”, your eyes softened at his words as you reached out for his hand. “I loved getting to know you, Helion. You’ve shown me nothing but kindness”, you smiled up at him. He mirrored your face before turning to the little table, “I picked these for you”, he pulled out a couple of well-loved copies, “Thought you might want to read them and we could talk about them. But only if you want of course”, he said and you could swear his cheeks pinked ever so slightly.

You bit your lip, “Are these by any chance your favorite?”, you asked brushing your fingers over the cracked spines. “Yeah, I’m almost certain that one of them is missing a page or two”, you both churched slightly at his confirmation.

“Well, then I would be delighted to read them”, your eyes met his once more, and the happiness that radiated from Helion was impossible to miss. But he quickly arranged his emotions, opting for a nod. “Maybe after I am back from my work trip we could meet here”, he muttered. You stepped closer, standing on your tippy toes as you pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek, “Yeah, I’ll be looking forward to it”, you breathed, feeling your cheeks heating.