#x on y essays

[lockpickingliar]

Ouma Kokichi (Gemini) on DICE

Everybody and their dog knows that if there's one thing a Kokichi cares about more than anything, it's DICE. It's almost universally accepted that it's like a family to him. It's where he belongs.

My DICE is no different, but I'll have you know I've never seen those hooligans pictured in my motive video in my life. Not in the game, at least. My motive video was very different. For starters, we had sixteen member, not ten. I'm sure it doesn't take much to realize what that implies for me.

We were all DICE. I can finally say that now.

I was the only one who remembered, as some cruel way to twist the knife. They changed things about all of us to make us unpalatable to one another. Made my tendency to lie a compulsion that made sure no one would believe me if I managed to tell them.

And I tried to tell them.

I told Kay that I knew her point blank once, before she died. But then the conversation meandered on and I tripped over my own compulsion and backpedaled. Yeah of course I knew her, we met just the other day when we all woke up here.

A lie.

I tried a different approach. I tried to re-recruit her. That didn't go much better. She didn't trust me, for obvious reasons, and easily turned down my offer because I couldn't stomach any more truth than that it was a secret organization. How suspicious.

It's not her fault, though. She didn't remember, and they changed us. They made it so no one would accept me as a leader. Isn't that ironic? Their former supreme leader, now shunned and demonized despite his best efforts to keep everything from falling apart.

Kay and Ran were super close, like siblings, y'know.

Rumi and Ryo were practically married.

Kiyo and Ten loved to discuss gender philosophy together. An painted them during a chat, once.

Go and Miu liked to bond over a joint.

Kai and I...

Well, every good leader needs a second in command.

We were all one big group. A family. Maybe a polycule if you wanna call it that, although everyone had one or two people they were particularly close with.

As you can imagine, we didn't sign up for Danganronpa. I'm not sure such a franchise even exists. It was probably just a cover to confuse us, or hell, maybe that's not how it ended at all. I wouldn't know. I'm dead now.

I do have a pretty good idea of who might've orchestrated it, though, just based on the mocking facsimile they made as our so-called "backstory plot".

A group aiming for the stars to make the world a better place...? Well, we did have Project Stargazer in the works. I wonder who might've had a vested interest in ensuring its failure?

We were a group with direction. We had a goal, and projects to reach that goal that we were working tirelessly toward. A post-tragedy world is a pretty scary place. In the midst of so much chaos that the Tragedy caused, only one organization had the power and resources to take on the task of reconstruction, which is all well and good.

Not so much years after the fact, when everything is still controlled by them.

If you want something rebuilt, you better hope they're in agreement, or you'll never get the assistance. They have their own agenda, and they take full advantage of their reputation as the sole saviors of the world.

Even better that they have the Ultimate Hope on their side to sway the public's opinion of them.

Have you figured out who I'm talking about yet?

I've gathered that in fandom, the common consensus is that the Future Foundation is a force of good. I'm sure that's the common consensus among the public back home, too.

I'm in the minority, and that's why I founded DICE in the first place. This might just be me, but I think it's kind of shady for a single organization to have a global monopoly on the reconstruction of the world. The people should have a choice between multiple, so that everyone's bases are covered and we don't fall into the trap of reforming the world into a single ideal that overlooks those in need.

DICE was gunning to be that alternative.

We were small, but that made it easier to fly under the radar. Ran, Kiyo, and Go would go on expeditions to other countries, searching for survivors, helping to rebuild in underdeveloped places that Future Foundation overlooked, and cataloging the regrowth of ecosystems--bug life in particular.

Kay, Himi, and An were our public outreach team, using the arts to sway the public in a subtle way. Maki would often accompany them for protection.

Rumi, Ryo, Ten, and Tsu were our intel team, with Rumi working as a maid for so many important people, Ryo and Ten in the sports sphere making connections at sporting events, and Tsu who could infiltrate directly with her cosplaying skills all snooping around to gather intel about whatever Future Foundation may be up to. They would report back to Shu, who was good at keeping tabs on things like that with his detective skills.

Miu and Kiibo--who was built by Miu herself, not whoever the fuck Ibadashi is--were the biggest contributors to keeping our HQ functional, redeveloping surrounding areas in no-man's land, as well as developing the tech for Project Stargazer, which I spearheaded, but Kai as the Ultimate Astronaut had the most directive power.

See, we were gonna start another space race. A post-tragedy rendition of who could get back to space first. To raise global morale and put us on the map as a direct competitor to Future Foundation that people could lean on for reconstruction. That was our goal, to break Future Foundation's monopoly on was stays and what goes, what's hope and what's despair.

And they didn't like that. They didn't like it one bit.

I don't know how they found out about us. I can imagine it had something to do with another project of ours--Project Defect--but one way or another they did, and that was when they came for us.

I imagine it pretty closely parallels what they called the "Ultimate Hunt" in their fun little fantasy story.

We were captured, changed, and plunked into a killing game where no one remembered how close they were.

Shu's confidence was erased, making him a meek shell of himself.

Himi was turned into an infuriating layabout who actually believed and insisted that her magic was real--once a mere running joke we all shared.

Maki reduced to a recluse and a killing machine, all her work to overcome her trauma from having her care for others trained out of her eradicated.

Kay's optimism was turned toxic and her memories twisted. "Piano Freak", a fun little jab we gave her (we ALL had a mean but fun-spirited nickname like this), turned into a foundational point of bullying and torment.

All the work Ran did to learn to manage his personal symptoms of chronic boredom, risk-taking, struggling to connect with others, and anger were stripped from him, leaving him desperate for intrigue and unable to look to anyone to support.

Rumi's devotion to the great good was poisoned, and she didn't even realize that it was the love of her life that she sacrificed for a faulty memory of being prime minister.

Ryo died thinking he had no one, even though he was surrounded by people he used to know and care for, and who all cared for him.

An was made into a caricature of her own culture, something she used to hold so dear to her as the last surviving member of her people.

Ten's trauma was used against her to make her into an intolerable bigot and strip her of the nuance she used to believe was so important.

Kiyo's sister's memory was outright bastardized to turn him into a serial killer, all his devotion to maintaining her shrine in his room reduced to a mere fetish.

Go's upbringing mocked and spat in the face of his intelligence, robbing him of the communication skills and eloquence he learned from Kiyo on their travels together.

Miu's care and dedication to her work was usurped to inflate her self-importance to unhealthy levels without anyone feeling like she'd earned it.

Kiibo reduced to a dense bucket of bolts with his learning capabilities drastically reduced--not to mention that he likely had to undergo constant brainwashing from the signals he received from the dumb antenna they added to his head.

Tsu... who they ironically turned against us from the start as a spy of their own, completely tricked into assisting with their entire scheme to tear us apart.

And Kai... My dear, sweet, intelligent Kai, second in command and love of my life, Ultimate Astronaut and project director for our most ambitious plan... turned into a brazen, narrow-minded bully and made to hate me and everything I stood for until it was too late.....

I don't blame them. I don't blame any of them, because they changed them. They couldn't help it if that was the reality they remembered. Nothing I said would have made a difference, either coming out as a lie or taken as a lie because they changed me, too. Made me into a liar who couldn't stop lying even when it mattered.

And so it was the end for us. We tore ourselves apart. Hook, line, and sinker, and even if there was nothing I could do to stop them, that doesn't make it feel any less like a failure to me. A failure to bring DICE--my family--back together before I had to watch them kill each other.

There was a point where I gave up. Figured a mass death would be best, to put us all out of our misery. I'll never forgive myself for using Go and Miu the way I did to accomplish that, just to fail yet again.

And then I died failing.

I don't know if there are any survivors, like in the game. I don't know if I want to know. If there are, I'm not sure I want to see them. I don't want them to know, don't want them to realize the horrors of what they just went through. That most of their family is gone.

But at the same time...

I miss them. I miss everyone, and I desperately want my family back.

DICE is finished, but I don't want it to be.

[rambunctioustoons]

different drum // the stone poneys 🎶

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin-r]

Spencer Reid is one of the most sweetest, cutest intellectual human fictional or not that I've ever met real or fake and he is a man who through thick and thin through introductions of fandoms old and new remains relevant and significant in my life. He is a man who i would pause the show to write an essay for but for now I'll write a summary because more show = more Spencer and that's all I care about

[rorja]

pirate!suguru is a man who easily commands attention.

his name echos on the lips on children, stuffed dangerously close to the edge of searocks, in plein water — risking so just to take a peek of the legendary ship he owns.

the women of the village, even though tired and with fingers all shriveled from washing linen on the shore, try their best of luck. walking amongst the folks on the streets, holding their wicker baskets and their heads low to not meet strangers eyes. their whispering close to themselves with a hand in front of their mouths.

suguru walks, as if the bath of the onlookers on the main square is nothing more than droplets amidst the salty air kissing his skin in the early morning. as if tales about his birthright place amongst the many sons and daughters of the olympus have not been widely spread throughout the small village. and it’s frustrating. infuriating.

you envy the sea. to have birthed such a dutiful son, to be the one who’s solely holding his heart.

because suguru looks like a god — something divine that could only come from the finest of paintings, but he always has been so. from the days he used to sport an haircut perhaps too uneven, gotten from the only pair of scissors that could be found in the third drawer of the kitchen. from the bun he would tie his hair in, on days he would run between the freshly washed linen and big, colorful skirts of many dancers on the main square amidst the village’s main festivities.

you watch him from afar, wondering if the people who now blushed at his mere presence remember the kid he used to be. the one with a tooth missing and some bruises on his knees because of clumsiness.

(the one who always held your hand— guiding you through a labyrinth of salt and sheets hung to dry. scattered kisses from the sea drying somewhere between your small toes and ankles.)

you wonder if he still cling to the memories of sunsets and handmade seashells necklaces— all of what remains of a youth that resurface every time when his name is mentioned, or when the moon hangs lonely in the deep sky.

but he doesn't. in your heart, you can feel this answer growing louder like the sole of his footwear on sand. jewelry tingling, dancing under the warm rays of the sun altogether with the one too many knives hidden in his bizzarre and dirty clothes.

(he chose the sea. he chose the sea, leaving you behind.)

suguru walks, never once turning back to mourn the life he had bargained for his freedom. he belongs to the sea. and it's painfully visible in his stance, in the white crystals among his hair, in his longing eyes.

the grip around the seashell on your necklace tighten. suguru left you behind— and yet, you can't help but fall for the ghost of this stranger once again.

a/n : don't ask me what is this...... i literally have no idea..... i just had a vision and ran with it TT

[skelecentral]

Day 24 of bad Sansuary (hosted by @owl-bones!): Out-of-bounds

Only kinda finished but here it is anyway! It’s been a busy day today lmaoo

Also, another song that SCREAMS Nightmare to me, this one more than the last:

[metathemeta-art]

specifically for any other celiac dca enjoyers because. look. we gotta cope somehow!! but also this can apply to anyone who has food stuff going on. I think Moon would be super gross about it but he would also not let a single thing poison you ever. special robot sensors or something

[magiefish]

Something I've kind of noticed about a lot of the academic scholarship I've read about Frankenstein / Dracula / Jekyll & Hyde is that everyone just seems to completely dismiss/ignore the characters as actual characters most of the time unless they're the Main Guys. Like, they'll go really in depth about Victor or the Creature's motivations and backstory and spend ages talking about Jekyll's relationship to Hyde and stuff, but the second it comes to characters like Enfield and Elizabeth or Lanyon and Clerval or frankly the Entire Rest of the Cast of Dracula, they just immediately seem uninterested. They'll just sort of vaguely gesture in their direction and go 'Oh yeah X and X thing happens to this character and here's a one sentence summary of their personality which doesn't really matter because this entire cast is interchangeable, anyway, onto the next theme' and half the time their One Sentence is just textually incorrect (looking at the New Woman/Traditional Woman descriptions of Lucy and Mina). And the reason I find this so baffling is because with other analysis I've read (e.g. Great Gatsby stuff) people seem to actually slow down and consider the characterisation and motivations of the cast as a whole with like. Nuance. Like they sit down and treat the characters as multifaceted and complex and having actual relationships with one another, and then you get to these books specifically and no one seems to care? Like they'll go really in depth with various interpretations and historical context for the Big Guys, and then never apply the same sort of examination to anyone else, and if they do, very rarely and probably only for one other character e.g. (Utterson or Mina).

If I had to posit an explanation, I would say its a combination of the archetypal nature of the title characters and the admittedly patchy writing of these books (which arguably lends to their archetypal status). I think academics kind of assume that the primary draw of these books are The Big Guys and the expansive themes and ideas they cover and that everyone else is just a pawn there to enable the narrative around the Big Guys, and the propensity for film adaptations to scrap or rewrite characters probably compounded this impression. And while I think this is at least partly true, the thing is, these characters were not always archetypal Big Guys. They originated in stories alongside *these* other characters *specifically* and it is worth asking what it is about the rest of the cast that makes the story interesting as well. Because, let's be real, if there was approximately no interest in the fucking *narrators* of Dracula, the best friends of Henry Jekyll, or the victims of the Creature, the original readers would have been completely bored out of their minds for most of these novels and public interest in them would not have been as great as it was. All of these novels were stories before they were myths, and academics should not be letting pop culture eclipse them unless they're specifically talking about the relationship between the two.

Overall, I just feel like academics are not only shooting themselves in the foot, but also doing a disservice to these stories by not bothering to investigate the other characters because frankly. It's lazy. It's lazy to dismiss an entire cast and basically skim read any sections involving them just because it's easy to focus on The One Guy. If you people really cared about themes, you'd understand that characters are inextricable from them. Like shit dude I see more care given to characters in essays about Greek tragedies, you guys are waaaay fucking behind

[nomizombie]

what i would imagine me (an extrovert) would do to court könig (a socially anxious most likely introvert)

reference image: (totes didnt trace the rose because i HATE drawing flowers :33)

[agentc0rn]

ok so I found my old XY playthrough bookguide and damn.. am I happy and miffed. Long list of thoughts ahead.

As someone who enjoys lore especially now with a resurfaced interest in xy (hyper fixated on az + legends z-a), I’m bummed about the way the story turned out in later years after I played XY.

Three details I've noted: no concept art, early and first planned out ideas, lore implications of aging immortality with regards to AZ

Wished this man had concept art!! :( The book even inquires about what he could have looked like 3000 years ago (though the cutscene has shown his younger self + the painting in the museum in Lumiose city).

Second, as the images of translated statement based on the interview with Masuda suggests, the story of AZ was planned out first apparently. Wonder what happened during the development cause he only became sidelined…

Thirdly, the last image shows a side info about why AZ looks old. Now, this may have been already addressed at some point, so I may be just repeating something that was said long ago. Nevertheless, it basically states how Floette remains the same for eternity due to being fully subjected to the ample life force energy from the pre-ultimate weapon, whereas for AZ, he received the effect partially; while becoming immortal, he still aged in a natural process but at a slower rate - still not sure if this is because of his close exposure during the revival event or the aftermath of the ultimate weapon beam? Though from what I recall, he was "bathed in the ultimate weapon's light and doomed to wander forever" and not from the pre-ultimate weapon, so but I feel like it could have been from the first time the machine was used too.

last thoughts: character arc -

I really wish we interacted more with him throughout the story - as travellers then eventually friends towards the end (we need adult companions!!). Maybe we could have helped him by fighting a team flare grunt or that he turns himself in to protect us from team flare at some point hence him being in jail. Alternatively, I feel like if he had been freed before and was there to witness the legendary battle and/or lysandre, THAT would have given him a reason to try to understand the bonds between people and pokemon, what a trainer is, therefore broadening his view on the world that he had been long oblivious to, etc - all leading up to his request to battle with us. He wants to know the world better and to coexist with pokemon, thus reverting to his “old self”.

I also think that him telling the story should have been a big shift in his character because of being helplessly stuck physically & mentally and witnessing someone young and small (protagonist = floette) bearing the burden of duty in solving the big crisis and all that.

Anyhow, thank you for reading my rambles lol

[lockpickingliar]

Ouma Kokichi (Cookie) on Options

Saw a post. Tumblr's based on your likes algorithm has been giving us a lot of Kokichi meta lately, so that's fun. Gets us in an introspective mood. The post was about how it doesn't make sense for me to have planned my dead from the very beginning. That the press situation was unplanned, that if given the chance to survive--any chance at all--then I would take it. Actually, after writing this all out I was going back to through my own tag to find something and then ran into two other posts back-to-back that seem to have very contradictory views on the matter. Funny how we reblogged both!

So which is it? Was the press a final hail-Mary from me when I was backed into a corner with nowhere else to go but six feet under? Well...

It was.

But that's a lie.

It was but it wasn't. For me, anyway.

It was absolutely last-ditch effort with no other options to end the killing game, but more than that it was kind of a mix of the two. A last-ditch effort--a contingency plan--and something I'd been wanting to happen for a while. I was tired.

I didn't intend to die, but I of course kept the possibility in the back of my mind about what sort of death I could set up if there was no other option. It was a plan I hoped when I made it that I'd never have to use. But then when that point finally came, with no other option? I felt some kind of… I don't wanna say relief but… It's more like by that point I figured it was inevitable and warranted. After everything I'd done, the least I could do was make it messy to stick it to the mastermind. To save everyone left.

It's like I was waiting for an excuse to throw in the towel. To atone somehow. But I kept telling myself I wasn't allowed to unless there was literally no other option, because I was more useful to everyone alive than dead. If I didn't believe that then I wouldn't have done what I did to Go-kun or Iru-chan. The only reason I knew she had to die rather than simply let her kill me was because with me dead no one would be left to smoke out her lies. She would have won, and everyone would have died.

Sure, maybe Saihara would have been able to figure it out, but was I willing to take that chance when I was the key player here? Iru-chan isn't stupid. She knew I was the biggest obstacle in the trial. That's why she went of me and not someone easier to lead on like Momota. So of course I had to live to keep everyone safe.

And for a split second during that trial I thought, maybe now it was finally my time.

And that's why I asked that question at the very beginning.

About what would happen if there was a 50/50 split in the vote.

What would happen to an accomplice.

...

I would have been content with that if the 50/50 had happened. I did my part. But then I survived anyway, and I knew I had to keep going. To stop the killing game properly before anyone else could get hurt. And if that was to become the mastermind everyone feared so much...

Then so be it.

[riaki]

> under warm kitchen lights and puffy silk sheets dad!aki hayakawa x reader hcs/drabbles

man... i finally finished this. oh my word wc: 3.2k :cry: cw: fem!reader (use of mother terms but no explicit description), brief mention of hospitals, kids omg so scary boy n girl not proofread!!

i always find myself writing waaayyyyyy too much for these 'short' drabbles/hcs/whatever they are. i think this one got even worse than the yoshida one. anyways its ok cus i live laugh love aki

also thank u @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for feeding me ideas with canon hayakawa family interactions :3

it's hard for him, to say the least.

while parenting is a new experience for the both of you, it's more than appropriate to say aki's the least bit familiar. putting up with denji and power (begrudgingly, he'll tell you-- although you never believe it) certainly has him battle-ready and prepared, albeit with a slight darkening of the circles under his velvety blue eyes and a minute downward tug on his chapped lips that need yours on them for rejuvenation when he thinks about the tiring journey lying ahead on a path of family that's only been slightly worn. but then you smile, squeezing his calloused hands that are bigger than yours and intertwining your fingers gently, and he forgets there's supposed to be blood between them as he presses a light kiss to your forehead and tells you in that smooth velvety voice that he's ready for whatever pandemonium your rascals will cause as long as you're there with him.

truth be told, there's nothing in this damned world that aki wants-- yearns for than a life of normality with you. he doesn't have a lust for a revenge that festers and infects, anymore; the only thing on his mind when his work gives the luxury of a time of rest is how wonderful it'd be to start a lively little family of your own as you smile at him or card your hands through his damp hair when you share a lukewarm bath surrounded by cold austere tiles in the darkest hours of the morning, having found him covered in a thin veneer of chilling sweat only moments ago, knuckles pale white as he clung to the duvet. more often than not you find a knot between his dark brows; a heavy weight on his shoulders that's perceivable but frustratingly intangible-- like an ugly patch of weeds in an old, worn garden that's not worth saving, but still has enough life within it to be marred by rot and degradation of soil. but when you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him flush to your chest, so close to your heart-- the place where he thinks he deserves to be furthest from-- when your lithe fingers work so gently it's almost painful to soothe the crease on his nose bridge and the tension between his bare shoulders, he's so bold as to dare to just hope for a life further than nights of hollow intimacy that, in vain, attempt to sew and patch up the gaping valley between the wants of his heart and of his mind. further than exhausted mornings littered with extinguished cigarette butts and framed with curling smoke, pale sunrises and slow, languid movement that reflect the growing shadows beneath his tired eyes; further than the bitter scent of the black coffee he always makes for himself because the pathetic attempt at at romantic in him insists that your sweet lips are the sugar and cream to his life enough. but in truth he can-- and thought he'd always be able to taste that overwhelming tang of something equitable to sourness on his tongue when he downs the bland caffeine, like the feeling that crashes and overwhelms him when he realizes that what you have right now? is just an illusion for his poorly-kept facade of something he wishes could be more. something with a shared bed and an extra room painted bright pastel, a bunk bed tucked into the corner and kids' toys scattered all over the place.

(and as much as you tell him otherwise, some small part of him that he's tucked into the darkest recesses of his mind will always, always believe that you deserve someone immensely better than him-- better than a cynical devil hunter with nothing to offer but years of bottled tears, unspoken words that die on his parched tongue, and withered feeling in his heavy limbs that come with the sensation of dragging himself through the pool of molasses that is the routine of life-threatening missions he throws himself into by a hollow ambition. but he's never, and if he's being honest, he doesn't want to have the heart to end things with you. and imagining you, holding hands with someone else, laughing that bubbly bright melody and smiling that cheery grin in any direction but his, makes his heart hurt uncomfortably and his cold blood boil.)

and so, when the fever dream that's your wedding day comes around, he wishes he had met you early enough to be addicted to the taste of your lips instead of the rough, paper end of a cigarette and the numbing thrill that settles in his diluted veins at the hit of nicotine clogging his lungs, before it's disillusioned and the despondent cycle repeats. you don't know the half of what he'd give for that. either way, he believes it a miracle that he even got the chance to see the starstruck look in your gorgeous eyes when he slid that silver band onto your ring finger; that he lived to see the day where the familiar touch of your tender hands coupled with the refreshing bite of cold metal on his skin, treating him like some elegant thing in your garden; a lily of the valley when in reality he's just some weed that should've been rid of. a flower who's bell shaped bunches of milky petals hang from the stalk like a condemned man on a court platform, yet still so bright and graceful you could forget the plant was poisonous. when aki had laid eyes on that pretty ring, tucked into a black box of deep velvet on a shaded patch of street one sunny afternoon, he immediately thought of how nicely the elegantly-cut gem would match your dazzling irises; he takes extensive care to make sure the luster suits as an addition to your appearance instead of a distractor-- after all, when he looks at his then future spouse, he wants to be drawn to your eyes, then the ring tying you two together like a red string on your pinky fingers. that, and the way your gaze will soften as it lands on him, in the way that could only happen when the purest angel from heaven chooses to spot the bastard straight from hell out of the crowd who dared to nose his way into your ethereal presence. it's truly befitting, he thinks; your touch is featherlight even when all he does is weigh you down like a ball and chain locked to your ankle, bound by softly-spoken vows and a promise amongst the white of veils and pretty cream flowers. and aki is a selfish man, so he's only glad he decided to weave your fates together, even if it meant the good and bad mingled to paint a splash of gray on love's canvas.

that's the story of your love on weighted scales that runs through his buzzing mind the night your sweet little kids ask their mama to recount the tale of your plunge into devotion together to them, far different than the telling words which seem to sweeten tenfold as they fall from your lips onto eager ears that soon turn deaf, sleeping soundly in your arms. for all the aloof, coldness and silence he's ever turned out into the harsh world your family lives and breathes in, aki's surprisingly loving as a father-- he can't help the gentle soft spot he has for your children when he remembers the big, teethy grins with little cinnamon pastry crumbs scattered around their curved lips and round cherry cheeks are a result of your combined efforts; the streak of tenderness you unearthed in him finds itself being yanked wide open by two pairs of small, grubby hands that are tiny enough to wrap around the length of his thumb, like a little pair of gloves that sponge the inpurity from his hands and make his eyes soften, crinkle around the edges in the way that you love. it's certainly not an unfamiliar feeling; the one invoked deep within his hardened chest buds and unfurls within his organs when your kids take their first breath of fresh air-- well, as fresh as clinical hospital air and stark white lights can get-- is the same one that hit him like a truck when his gaze inevitably finds its way back to you every moment you're near him. cupid's arrow has long burrowed into the cavity of his chest, and if he's honest, he doesn't mind at all. if you had the energy to, you would've snuck a quick picture, if not mental, and made a little sweet teasing fun of him for being so dumb-- no, starstruck; a fool absolutely enamored with two little reflections of you and him. the product of literal years in blood, sweat and tears; maybe some coffee, and definitely some love.

and while aki may involuntarily be an intrinsic liar to his very core by nature (you still love him either way, even when he tells you he tried to stop your baby boy from crawling onto the kitchen counter over the sink and clambering onto two shaky toddler legs to paw at the jar of peanut butter in your cabinet), you're not. so you'll enjoy the strawberry blush that seeps its way across the soft skin of his cheeks that you've mapped with fluttering kisses and trembling hands when you tell him just how much of a great father you think he is to your kids, on the nights when he gets home with sufficient energy to whip something up for the haven of cozy warmth he calls 'home'. you'll prep a warm stew together that makes your daughter's mouth water and eyes go round as saucers as she clings to aki koala-bear style, legs wrapped around his neck and fingers curling into his raven hair as she watches him stir the broth with one hand (the other resting firmly, yet gently on her ankle) to melt the icicles clinging to the awnings of your windows for frigid winters. or, maybe some cold soba for those humid summer nights to enjoy amongst the symphony of cicada buzzes and city sounds, watching lights flash by as you laugh and reach out to wipe the soup off of your son's cheeks when the noodle he was indulging on goes up a little too fast, missing the way your husband's eyes fall on you ever so affectionately. you'll enjoy a sweet, tender kiss in the golden hazy glow of your warm kitchen bubble, full of lively mirth as you carve out silly little smiley faces and stars out of potatoes and bits of cucumber and carrot. on the rare occasion you decide it's a good idea to let your kids contribute a little, the immediate and guilty regret you feel when you watch your daughter slip up and knick her little finger gets washed away by a familiar, blooming feeling of adoration, almost sickeningly sweet in its intensity as you pause to watch aki kiss away the beads of ruby red blood welling on the cut, rubbing her 'boo-boo' so tenderly it makes your heart hurt as you gently plaster a cute sunflower bandaid over the cut while your baby girl stares at your husband with such wonder you think he might be a knight-in-shining-armor in her wide round eyes. and it makes his bleeding heart skip a beat when you tell him you see him the same way, too. there's always guaranteed to be a fresh plate of intricate bunny-shaped apple slices as dessert after dinner, and on slow nights spent in the company of family, there'll be a quick and intense battle of rock paper scissor or sticks between the love of your life and your beloved children on who'll be the lucky winner to put their head in your lap tonight.

(although, aki rarely lets himself win, because he knows he'll be able to later that night if not in that fond moment, sure to become a treasured memory.)

aki sees himself as a good father; he's strict when he needs to be, and he always tries to make time for his kids. he's even stopped smoking in front of them; in the house, as a whole. he had to pepper you with a few sweet, slow and intentional kisses and light-hearted apologetic words when you demanded to know why your requests for him to stop slowly killing himself with each drag fell to deaf ears, but suddenly you got a little more intimate and out popped a few kids-- and he'd stopped. of course, those were enough to pacify you; he made your resolve weak, like the sweet wobbly jello you indulged your daughter to as you watched your husband work out a crossword puzzle with your son. sometimes, you have to remind him sternly not to curse in front of his kids. but when he reminds you of the vehement stream of swears that always left you when you had to change less-than-pleasant diapers in your earlier parenting years, he’ll chuckle at the flush on your face, because you seem to elicit a lot of those from him. he’ll smile, because he’s finally found something worth the effort. and he'll run a hand through your hair and press a kiss to your forehead because you've made him capable of caring (and he knows how to distract you). sometimes, though, he thinks he's a little too soft on their pleading looks and puppy eyes on the nights when lightning streaks across the sky in frightening arcs, claps of thunder rumbling across the dark clouds when the streets of tokyo are enveloped in curtains of rain showers, when one (or both) of your beloved kids peeks their head from the doorway, a little 'can i sleep with you guys?' escaping as a timid peep. he watches in a sleepy sort of amusement as you nod, one hand lazily curling around your waist to keep you close to his side as he rests his chin on your shoulder. and it's your turn to stifle your amusement when a small, quiet mumble of protest leaves his mouth as your kid sidles into the covers between the two of you, effectively splitting you from your husband. if he was impatient, you know he'd have half the mind to pick them up and plop them at the edge of the bed to have you all to himself, but on most nights he'll just observe in quiet affection when you scoop up your son or daughter in your arms, cradling them to your chest and playing with that head of soft hair, humming gently in a way that makes his heart melt at the edges

sometimes, when 'uncle' denji and 'auntie' power are over, they'll poke fun at him in their usual, disrespectful and chaotic manner, because it doesn't take a pair of keen eyes to see the way he looks at you like you've hung the very constellations in the sky; like the stellar designs in the firmament were all carefully crafted by your hand. he's no overdone zodiac freak, but he dares to say the stars aligned the night he was finally able to call you his and only his. denji and power get along incredibly well with his kids; it almost makes him jealous. like you, his resolve is incredibly easy to weaken with the right expression and the right words; your kids must've picked up a few tricks from your book, because they know exactly how to play him into the palm of their tiny little hands. denji and power spoil them to no end; the wonder duo indulge the kids through games of tag and roughhousing, treating them to a wide array of candy and sweets that guarantee a doctor's visit the following week. he swears the pinch between his eyes you worked so hard to eliminate returns little by little when he watches them run around the place he used to call his safe haven, leaving a trail of absolute destruction and havoc in the form of torn magazines, splintered puzzle pieces, apple sauce sludge, tiny lego blocks (that leave a lifetime of pain), and pairs of his socks. it only gets worse when they learn how to negotiate; he makes a mental note to blame denji and power, because there's no way in hell your children figured out how to bargain from you or him. whines of "aww, but uncle denji lets me take the toys outside, dad!" and "buy me that neko charm, or else i'll tell mom you knocked over her plant pot yesterday!" (which, for the record, isn't true. that was 'auntie' power.) that being said, it's a given family outings are narrowly avoided disasters; as the kids grow, aki swears he'll have to start keeping them on a leash, or they might end up accidentally shoplifting your local 7/11's supply of sour gummy cubes, or have fed daffodil seeds to each stray cat on your condo's street under one blink of a weary eye. at the end of the day, he always caves with an exasperated sigh and an irritated 'fine. but don't tell your mom, okay?'. after all, he's always been a sucker for you; who's to say he's not the same with your kids?

unserious hcs... :3

def the type of dad to mutter 'no she didn't' or 'they probably deserved it' under his breath when ur daughter's school principal calls u both in to tell u she stuck her chewed melon gum in three different girls' hair that day

unreasonably competitive w his children. god knows why

yells at ur kids a lot and starts pouting like the grown ass man he is when u scold him for it ("sorry, love. i got used to it. power and denji were a hell of a handful.")

tucks them both in n denies it with everything in him when u ask if he likes making them beg for goodnight smooches

tells them to fuck off (in childrenspeak) when its ur marriage anni / date night

when they were rlly young, u guys used to all do family showers and or baths together but then water would get everywhere and the rubber duck would be fought over n bathbombs would overflow and the kids would get mad at each other so u dont do that anymore...

an absolute goof and doesnt know what the hell hes doing at first... one time ur son was choking on a cherry pit and he didnt know what to do so he just. shook him. by some miracle it worked (if it was denji or power he wouldve js smacked their back unnecessarily aggressively)

unrolls his cigarettes and makes origami shapes out of them; once ur daughter got her ears pierced he made a pair of crane earrings for her from the paper (clean ofc. i hope)

thoroughly enjoys forcing himself into mother daughter nights and he grumbles but secretly loves when ur daughter practices makeup on him or braids his hair

hopes and prays like an idiot that his kids see him as a cool epic devil hunter awesome sauce dad and not a silly pathetic failwife househusband (that's only for u to think)

stitches up any clothing, pillow cases or stuffed animals that r falling apart, also makes sure that no color bleeds when washing clothes and that nothing shrinks cus he does all the laundry for evryone

helps u make a family photo scrapbook and tape polaroids to ur fridge. lets the kids cut out patterns and shapes (his fav r the nutrition facts for some weird reason) from their juiceboxes and kids' magazines to put in the scrapbook

whenvr ur napping he always tells them to shut up. or he just forces them to nap too so he can be lazy and crawl into bed w u

a very good dad !!

hes such a loser oh no.. i should've just used the unserious hcs for the entire thing. i rambled im sorry it will happen again. i love himr

my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[skullywullypully]

Miguel: I’m proud to identify as morosexual. I’m attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. Someone asked me what the Spanish word for "tortilla" was once, and now I dream of kissing them under the moonlight. Y/N: What kind of animal is the Pink Panther? Miguel, already taking off his clothes: God, Y/N, you’re so f**king stupid.

[myjealouseyes]

Wolfstar!daughter loves absolutely adores girls days/nights with Lily. As much as she loves her dads, it's very refreshing to have a female figure in her life for womanly advise. Especially if that figure is her best friend/boyfriend's mother. A girl can only take some much testosterone. How would you think Lily and Wolfstar!daughter would spend their time together?

They definitely do all the things!!! They’ll do spa days, or do each others nails, watch the cheesy movies, all of it!

But what I’ve really been thinking about when it comes to them is wolfstar!daughter coming to lily to rant about girl problems and everything happening in her life. (being a teenage girl is stressful; lily knows that better than anyone) and while she knows she can always go to her dads for advice (and often does) she just feels like she needs advice from someone who’s been there and done the whole teenage girl thing. (And survived) and who better than someone she knows, loves, trusts, and has been through everything she’s going through.

[incomingalbatross]

I have now. FINALLY. Read Beowulf.

[sylvia-plaths-fig-pie]

I may have writers block rn but I can assure you that miss 'y/n' reader girlie will never 'giggle' she will be teheing for no-one in my fics. My great sense of second hand embarrassment can not handle it. The word actually triggers my fight or flight for some reason.

"You giggled" NO TF I DID NOT

I shall tehe for no one. I may bark, beg, get on my knees, but giggle... GIGGLE? I draw the line.