#a blessing and a mistake at the same time I'm crying | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ruhorih4ra · 1 month

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*uncontrollable spanish crying* Hello! I finally finished another chapt! I always think of notes to add as I edit the story but I always forget them when I get here ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔ.

We're getting closer to that one scene that made me do this long ass fic!! JAJAJA

I'm sorry for any mistakes and grammatical errors, this isn't as well checked as the others because me canso ganso (Yeah I know, can you imagine? God bless your soul if you read my mess 🙏🏻 JAJAJA).

(⁠　⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)⁠☞ 17!

Get out of my way 🌈

The sunset illuminated the place with a feast of colors, from orange to purple to the curtain of the night sky where hundreds of stars rested surrounding the moon, big and blue, bathing you in a bluish light. You raised one arm and touched a star with your index finger, it swung gently on its own axis. You stretched further, successfully caging the shiny object inside your fist. It was cold and solid but translucent and beautiful like a diamond. “It’s a cheap representation.” You said, amused.

Heat. You felt it in your hand, at first it was faint but soon became unbearable. The smile on your face disappeared as you whimpered, “Ouch!”, your hand opened and the star floated in front of you. The heat it radiated was violent and endless, it hit your face and moved your hair with its intensity. It was too hot and bright, and soon you were drenched in sweat. “Is it better now?” the jerk asked.

Before you could complain, the star became small only to get bigger in seconds, you didn’t have time to understand what was happening when a violent stream of dust blew in front of your face and forced you to close your eyes.

When you opened your eyes again, you were breathless. A mystical and beautiful scene, clouds of different colors mixing in perfect harmony with little sprinkles of white and blue lights and, at the center of said explosion was the cause of it. The Avatar of Sloth, Belphegor, smiling tenderly at you. “I can’t understand it.” He said. “How do you do it?” This time he seemed genuinely upset.

“How do you make the death of a star seem like nothing compared to you?”

Eyes like galaxies looked at you intently, as if you could disappear at any moment to never come back, he was trying desperately to memorize every detail. The scrutiny left you ashamed, and you averted his eyes. “Flatterer,”

You hadn’t seen him move, but there he was, cuddling with you like a cat, resting his head happily on your chest. Again, a second passed and he was no longer hugging you, instead his head laid on your legs. “Stop doing that Belphie, you’re confusing me.”

“Isn’t it the magic of dreams?” He laughed, breathing calmly. “Mc, would you convince Mephisto to let me in again, please? I promise I’ll just sleep beside you.” Belphegor’s voice sounded distressed. “You make them sleepy, Belphie.” You started caressing his scalp. “It’s their own fault. If they’re tired they should sleep.”

“Mephisto doesn’t think the same.” You laughed, imagining the demon’s face of disapproval and remembering how every time Belphie was around all the other students yawned every couple of minutes. “So, would you come back to the house of lamentation?” Belphie asked, unconsciously lowering his voice. When you remained silent, he added, not without sorrow. “Please?” “Belphie…”

“You’re always in the Newspaper Club and that rancid eggplant banned me and when you’re not there, you’re in Purgatory Hall and,” You finished his sentence. “Simeon banned all of you.” He straightened and nodded in annoyance. “Then you sleep and I try to meet you there but, you don’t let me.”

“I’ve been busy this past week, I always end up too tired to consciously dream. I’m sorry, Belphie.” You purposefully avoided the topic of going back to the house of lamentation, something you wanted but couldn’t afford, at least not now that everything seemed better. The demon looked at you with a mix of emotions because he knew what you were thinking and he knew it was a lost battle.

He took you for granted, he could blame Lucifer one time after another for forcing them to watch over Sc but nothing changes the fact that at the end of the day he decided to sleep. His sin won over him and hurt you.

Whether you forgive him or not, he couldn’t forgive himself.

“Are you eating well?” Belphie inquired, suddenly looking exhausted. “Beel wants to know.” Still surrounded by the remains of a dead star, you ruffled his hair and cupped his face with both hands. Taking Belphie by surprise, you kissed his ear and he yelped. “Hey! What was that?!” His face was one of complete annoyance but he was redder than a tomato too.

You kissed him again, a quick peck on the lips, it ended before he could enjoy it. “I’m fine! I promise I’ll come back!” You hurriedly said. “Wait! Don’t do that! It’s too soon!” Belphegor felt it too, the rush. The pressure that indicates you’re about to wake up, leaving him all alone, again.

He closed the distance and your lips touched, sweetness filled your palate as the demon embraced you once more. “I miss you, Mc.” He murmured. Your vision got blurry, but you focused on the demon before you and his longing reached you.

“You know something, Belphie? Neither the death nor the birth of a star can ever be compared to you.” The last thing you saw was a wide eyed Belphegor, blushing furiously and what looked like the beginning of a frown.

You opened your eyes to see a very elegant cane right in front of your eyes. The lines that decorated it twisted in a floral pattern you couldn’t stop looking at. Your fixation stoped the moment the cane was raised to gently descend over your head repeatedly. “This is no time to slack off, Mc.” Mephistopheles said, raising an eyebrow. “It’s too early to be tired, if you feel fatigued you should go, I won’t berate you, I’m not Lucifer.”

Something you had come to understand in the previous month was that Mephisto was a kind demon, cordial and more considerate than most of them. Surprisingly, he doesn’t acknowledge himself as such (not out of modesty but because a weird conviction that everyone acts the same).

“What time is it?” You yawned, looking around for a watch. “6 a.m.” Diaval answered as he passed by holding a stack of books. Everyone was always working non-stop in the Newspaper Club and the constant hustle and bustle of the members wasn’t rare, it actually gave you some comfort. “It’s too early for a human.” Mephisto said, you could tell there was real concern in his eyes, but then again, you didn’t know him well enough.

“You don’t know many humans, Mephis.” You stood up from your chair, massaging your sore neck. “Don’t call me Mephis.” He handed you a cup of coffee, sighing with too much feigned annoyance. Another thing you had learned about him, he’s just dramatic, he likes it. “Hmm! Thank you, Mephisto! You’re very kind.”

“There is no need to thank me, it’s simple courtesy.” He said and you wondered, genuinely wondered, how many times have you heard that from him?

A month ago, after deciding to move out from the house of lamentation, you had understood that put distance between the brothers and you wouldn’t be as easy as you had thought. You didn’t live with them anymore, but they started trying to make up for it in RAD, sticking to you at all times. It wasn’t easy, you couldn’t research anything regarding the Little D.’s when they were around and you found yourself cranky and anxious, something they assumed was their fault.

Those little demons could influence you, they could toy with you and your wounds were still fresh. Something like the previous disaster could repeat and then what would happen? Could things still be fixed? Who knows but, you wouldn’t take the risk. You needed time but the brothers were anxious, they knew you were hiding something and that not only pained them but also scared them.

It occurred to you that you needed a logical pretext, something that could give you a cover and a reason to keep the brothers away without arousing their suspicions. It had been a coincidence, really, to see Mephisto hiding in a bush spying on a drunk Lucifer.

You had received a call from Barbatos: “Lucifer’s too drunk to walk alone.” Bullshit, you knew what he was trying to do. Simeon let you go with no resistance too, his smile looking a lot like Barbatos’. You resigned without complaint and walked all the way from Purgatory Hall to the Castle.

“What are you doing, Mephistopheles?” You asked without trying to lower your voice or hide your form. The tan skinned demon jumped a little in surprise, his eyes grew wide before taking a finger to his lips. “SHHH!! I’m trying to find new information for… an article… that I’m writing.”

Your gaze alternated between Mephisto and Lucifer, the latter was talking to a tree, obviously drunker than you had ever seen him, and also unaware of his conspicuous stalker. “Are you writing an article about… Lucifer?” you asked, sending a text to Mammon with Lucifer’s state and location.

“Why would I do that?” He exclaimed, almost shouting. “Then, what are you doing following an intoxicated Lucifer at this hour?” It was a reasonable question, it was well into the night, so dark and cold that you had to maintain your own temperature using spells. Plus, you were close to Diavolo’s castle, and that gave you an impression of the situation. “I could ask you the same. Why are you here alone? Don’t you know how dangerous it is!?”

“Barbatos was the one who asked me to fetch Lucifer. I doubt he would ask me to do something without fully knowing I wouldn’t die.” You sighed, looking how Lucifer started to yell at the oak. “Excuse me, but it seems that I’m not able to follow you. Why would Barbatos do that?” Mephisto stood up from his hiding place, his notebook ready in his hands.

You massaged your temples. “He wants to force me to tell them the truth. He wants me to ask Lucifer’s help.” You thought. It was true, you knew Barbatos knew. Hell, you knew Barbatos knew that you knew he knew. It was driving you crazy this little game with the butler, it actually seemed as if he was testing you, curious to see what you would do. Now you suspect Simeon too, just perfect.

“I asked first. Why are you here? Are you spying on Diavolo?” Mephisto gasped, opening and closing his mouth like a hungry fish. “How dare you call him Diavolo? How disrespectful.” He shook his head, but even in the dark you noticed a rather big blush on his cheeks. “So that’s it? You were spying on the prince? I wonder what he’ll think of it.”

Mephistopheles felt defeated, any chance of denying it seemed futile when he looked at your eyes. At least he had seen Lucifer made a fool of himself, that was compensation enough. “I just want to reveal the truth! That new exchange student is hiding something! Lord Diavolo and Lucifer, they’re hiding something too! We, as committed students, have the right to know!” As Mephistopheles delivered his speech with tremendous flamboyance, you walked towards Lucifer, softly patting his shoulder, smiling kindly at his surprised and blushing face.

“I’d rather not know anything about it.” You spoke to Mephistopheles and met his gaze with a pair of wary (maybe even fearful) eyes. Mephistopheles knew at that instant, he could recognize that look because he saw it every day in the mirror. A feeling of understanding and empathy washed over him like a torrent of water. “Well, that’s unfortunate.” For a few moments silence reigned between the three of you until a very drunk demon broke it.

“Diavolo cheated.” Lucifer blurted out and pointed at the tree. “He turned into a tree. Trees can’t get drunk.” He said sternly. You quickly removed Mephistopheles’ camera out of the way, dedicating him a disapproving look. “The vice president of RAD is indulging in shameful activities. That needs to be known.” He simply said and you responded to him with a tired sigh. “I won’t let you, so do us a favor and just give up.”

“He’s mocking me.” Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “Love, he’s not Diavolo.” You stood in front of Lucifer, trying to cover the “wicked” tree. Lucifer’s eyes sparkled with devotion when he heard you, he smiled like a cat and hugged you like one too.

Mephistopheles couldn’t stop looking at Lucifer, he had never seen that side of him before. Sure, he had seen him make a mistake, taking a poor decision, indulging Lord Diavolo in a stupid activity, but this, this was on a higher level. He looked vulnerable, real. That… completely disgusted him.

“I guess he’s that drunk.” Mephisto murmured more to himself than to you, but you answered him anyway. “Yes, I wonder what happened.” Mephisto was sure he knew what the answer was, but he just nodded and imitated you.

He had to look at you twice to see if you were that dense. Maybe you were just pretending to not know the influence you had on the brothers, but one look at your face told him all he needed to know: you were a fool, a noble one.

Mammon arrived with a loud flap of his wings. First he looked at you and a foolish smile appeared on his face, said smile completely gone and replaced with a grimace when he noticed Mephisto, grimace that changed into a big smile and loud laugh when he looked at Lucifer. “Hahaha! Look at you, yar so stupid! I’m gonna take a photo and sell it to-” Mammon stilled and color vanished from his skin when Lucifer shot him a death glare. “Are you implying that I would have lost even if I were a tree, Mammon?”

Mammon’s mouth was slightly open as a frown made its way into his face. “Damn. He’s really outta it, right?” You covered up Mammon’s D.D.D. before he could take a photo. You spent a couple minutes making sure Mammon wouldn’t take any photos until the conversation ended and you stood engulfed in silence.

“I should go now.” He said, hesitantly. He waited a few moments for you to contradict him, a small hope he knew was futile. “Don’t worry, Mephisto will accompany me back to Purgatory Hall.” You looked at Mephistopheles but there wasn’t annoyance or any sign of resistance, on the contrary, he seemed to find it quite obvious.

As surprising as it may seem, the second brother had been really understanding about the whole ordeal, giving you the space you needed. Even if there were more crows than average around you. He was making an effort, even if he felt that his soul gets heavier every day.

“O-okay, see ya soon Mc!” The white haired demon didn’t move an inch, supporting his brother with both arms. “Maybe tomorrow?” In the background you could hear Lucifer’s slurred voice still fighting an imaginary rival. “Sounds good.” You walked up to them and gave them a quick kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry and take care of Lucifer, okay?”

Looking somewhat renewed, Mammon nodded and gave you a quick smile before taking off, leaving you alone with a pensive Mephisto. “Must have gone wrong, then.” Mephistopheles said.

You couldn’t tell what Mephisto was talking about, so you turned a deaf ear and shrugged. You were not quite ready to tell anybody about how something like jealousy could trigger a spiral of horrible fights between you and the brothers. “I mean, the new exchange student plan.” He said, knowing he was pushing your buttons.

“As I told you before, Mephistopheles, I don’t want to know anything about it.” You walked without waiting for him. “What are you doing? It’s rude to turn your back on someone like that. You’re such a bad-mannered human.” After some minutes of lecturing and highly offended babble, Mephistopheles and you walked in comfortable silence.

Mephisto glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, you back was slightly hunched and your eyes seemed tired, the bags under them along with the dark circles were a proof. He knew something had happened in the house of lamentation, better said, something between you and the brothers (even Lord Diavolo seemed troubled too). Your interactions with them were few and honestly, a little forced. It was almost as your first year there.

The ex president of the Newspaper Club had seen you act like an… unstable human. More than once. Sometimes he saw you, angrily talking alone, throwing things at nothing and then laughing like a mad villain. But then again, maybe those attitudes were normal in humans? He doubts it. Your aura was different too, some days he could swear even some demons were frightened of it.

But now, looking closer at you, he could see that you were simply tired.

“You know, the Newspaper club has been pretty busy lately, we’re short of demons. Isn’t it your responsibility as a council officer to deal with those matters?” He said with an exaggerated tone of voice. You looked at him without turning your head. “Short of demons?” you repeated.

“I suppose a human will do.” He added, and you couldn’t contain the smile that spread through your face. “Our club is only open to a few, so you don’t need to worry about external distractions.” He continued with feigned seriousness. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Mephisto, but I don’t want to be a burden on you too.”

The demon didn’t miss the implications of your words, he just wasn’t familiar enough with you to take on the role of giving comfort. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody that you were spying on Diavolo.” You lazily added.

“I was not! How insolent can you be, human? I can’t believe your guts!” You laughed. Surprisingly, he didn’t find it annoying. He quickly came to the conclusion that your words held no malice. In fact, it was a pleasant sound, something he could get used to. “You work at our club and in exchange, you keep my secret.” He finally said as you arrived to the front of Purgatory Hall’s door.

He saw how your jaw clenched, unshed tears appeared in your eyes and distrust took shape like dust in your irises, just to leave as quickly as it had come. Finally, you nodded. “Sounds fair, Mephisto.” You smiled. He could have swear a small glint of your soul peaked through your eyes and dazzled him for a moment. Maybe that’s why those demons are so smitten with you.

Perhaps he should be careful too, for all he knows, you could be a spy from the angels. No, that would be stupid, they wouldn’t send someone as stupidly nice as you. “Thank you, really.”

Such sincerity shocked Mephisto, whose social circle was always so shady and wicked. He took his eyes off you, not wanting to be fooled by the gratitude in them.

“No need to thank me, it’s simple courtesy.”

Part 19??

Taglist: @yuumaofc @asmolover1234 @gallantys @prefesro @urminebutidontwantyou @fiveofspades @exrellian @kaiserkisser @cutestpatoootie @fandumshippr

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me mc #obey me fandom #obey me gn!reader #obey me lucifer #obey me angst #obey me beelzebub #obey me mammon #obey me belphegor #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me mephistopheles #obey me diavolo #obey me little d

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aboutwerewolves · 1 year

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Nga yawne lu oer

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Metkayina!Reader Summary: After a scolding from Jake, Neteyam feels dejected but you, his mate, can't let that happen, so you comfort him. A/n: 'nga yawne lu oer' means 'i love you' in na'vi, I'm so sorry if this is bad, if you find any mistakes feel free to correct me. CW: Fluff, comfort, sad Neteyam, reader is mentioned as Ao'nung's sister.

It was midnight and you were sitting near the shore. Your legs in the water, the only light being the bioluminescent creatures. You were waiting for Neteyam to show up on the little date you both had planned. It wasn't much but you both had planned to spend time together. Your ears perked up as you heard footsteps behind you and you saw your mate coming towards you. You excitedly got up but your smile turned into a frown as you saw his expression. He looked utterly dejected and almost on the verge of crying. You see, he wasn't much of a crier and preferred to keep his emotions to himself so as not to burden you (his words). So seeing him like that made your heart ache.

"What happened my love?" you asked softly as you went to hug him. "Nothing, don't worry about it too much. How was your day?" Neteyam tries to avoid the question. "Absolutely not having any of that teyam, come on sit and tell me what is bothering you?" you lightly scold him and make him sit with you. You hold his hands and look into his eyes- a look he was well aware of and knew it meant that you were not going to let this go.

"It's just my dad, he was scolding me again for something stupid that Lo'ak did, and honestly I feel so trapped. I know I should've looked after him, but even I get tired at times and Lo'ak doesn't make things easier. It's like it's on purpose that he tries to get me scolded. I told him to maintain his distance from Ao'nung. yet still he had to go and start up shit again. My father- he- well he expects me to be perfect all the time and this is crushing me I feel so lost. I want to feel free and the only time I feel free is when I'm with you." he bursts.

You knew this would happen sooner or later as you had caught Jake scolding Neteyam a few times before. "Oh Neteyam, why hadn't you shared this with me before. It's ok love, I know how you feel and it isn't your fault. You are not to blame for anything, you can only do so much. But know that whatever you did, you did the best. And it was no one's but my brother's fault for spewing nonsense about your brother. I'll ask Ao'nung to apologize." spoke softly and held his face in both of your hands and continued speaking,"Remember my love I made a promise with you to stay with you. You yourself told me that if anything happened then I should tell you, so why are you making an exception for yourself? If anything stresses you out please tell me. I'm here for you and as long as we are together we will always be fine my neteyam."

Neteyam had never felt this happy before and he thanked the great mother for blessing him with you as his mate. In your arms he felt safe and that he had nothing to prove to anyone. In your arms he wasn't toruk makto's son, he was Neteyam and he was grateful to you for accepting him even with his flaws. He couldn't explain anything with words so he went with actions instead and pulled you closer to him, connecting your lips.

You both were kissing for what felt like eternity. You felt that Neteyam needed to breathe so you pulled away to see him breathing heavily yet you were breathing normally (perks of being a metkayina). As you both rested your foreheads together, Neteyam spoke,"Nga yawne lu oer." You felt warm and fuzzy and told the same words back to him.

Safe to say your date went nice as you were lying down in neteyam's arms with him whispering sweet nothings into your ears.

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holylottie · 3 months

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Aching bones, aching teeth [03]

masterlist [and warnings!]

PAIRING — Lottie Matthews x fem!reader

CHAPTER SINOPSIS — In 1996, they looked to you for answers that you pretended to know. In 2021, they looked to you for answers you didn't have.

NOTE — english is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you might find. Please go read the tw's first! Thank you for reading :)

Jackie brainrot, I miss the snow baby.

2021

Some nights, you used to stare at your dollhouse.

It was very big, with a garden, beds more comfortable than your own and even an attic (where no doll was allowed to go, but it mattered that it was there).

There was a doll with brown hair in the bed, she was always there, always warm and inside the place (you were not allowed to move her, not even if you truly wanted to).

Some nights, you would wake up and watch the dolls move on their own. A little Shauna walking around the kitchen, a tiny Van hopping the stairs.

But little Jackie never moved, she always stayed where you let her: on the bed, on the blanket. You used to cry about it, now you enjoyed the sight: she was safe, she was warm and, most importantly of it all, she was out of your grip.

Staring at your ceiling, you wonder if this was on God’s plan.

You remember the cold lonely nights, the sins and blessings. How Lottie would hug you closely or how Jackie would dry your tears with shaking hands. How everyone was so happy dancing, how Misty called you nice and hugged you so dearly.

Or how, on the first nights, you didn't even eat, only to leave more for Lottie, in case she felt hungry.

God treats everyone as sons. Wasn’t he the one to make the cross?

When you woke up from your memory, your fingers were stained with blood. Your belly was bloody too, with a few drops getting onto the bed below you. In your skin it was marked, again, the symbol of the trees.

1996

You walked over in Jackie's direction, seeing her alone in the cabin. You smile at her, seeing her trying to do the same, but not succeeding very well. You keep quiet, just doing your chores of cleaning berries and leaves by her side, hoping your presence would be enough.

— This is all so fucking weird — she said, a sour taste on her mouth as she looked at you doing your tasks — I wish I could just live like you all do, but it's all disgusting and too hot.

You giggle lowly, and she stares at you a bit mad, but then you both laugh.

— I just pretend, actually — you confess — I pretend I'm in a vintage dollhouse and I need to leave like a barbie doll… except like the house is in the middle of nowhere, with only two ken’s and there's not even plastic food…

At that, Jackie laughs loudly, shaking her head at your words.

— You truly know how to live in a fantasy world, tiq.

She called you the nickname she had given you when you entered the team, tiq because of the tic tac of a clock, since you would make the sound every time you were nervous —that and your crippling anxiety over routine and times, you always wanted everyone in the field at least fifteen minutes before the game started.

— We need this, you know… there's no way of this working if we don't stay positive — you say, pressing your lips together as you put the good berries on a different cup, the bad ones on another so you could make jam or something like that — I put on ribbons and pretty dresses, and pretend I'm just going to a party on the woods… pretend I'm just… just the same.

Jackie walks over at you, sitting by your side and hugging you. She kisses your forehead, taking a deep breath.

— You know… you could put some ribbons on my hair…

Your eyes lighted up and you quickly put the cups on the bed, running to your bag and getting up a set of white ribbons, giggling as you sat behind Jackie, ready to doll her up.

The first nights were okay, the other ones were bearable, but these? Oh, these were horrifying… Charlotte could not even grasp when or where it all changed, but what seemed to be a fun trip to the woods, where they forgot all of their resources, turned into a fulltime nightmare, where not even sleeping she was free… Perhaps, she just had finally stopped being able to fool herself.

What made it possible for her to not lose herself to madness was the lake. A place where she was reborn —and washed away from her sins.

No, not all her sins, she was still alive after all.

Where to go when you are lost on yourself?

That’s right, you stay stuck —and thats what she felt, floating on the cold water of the river, wishing for things to change. Just wishing and wishing with nothing happening.

Charlotte always tried her best to help people out, to make the tragedies that she felt turn into something useful, but to no avail, no one ever listened to what she had to warn.

“Why do you insist on saving the sacrificial lamb, Charlotte?”

Well, don't all living things deserve a chance to live?

Half of Lottie wanted to take the lamb upon her arms and watch it grow into a pretty sheep. The other half was ready to lick its bones.

Lottie loved the gray skies way more than people seemed to love those orange-pink sunsets. She pictured the Gods watching over humans with a filter lens —because yes, she thought that there was more than only one God, no, she prayed for it; Maybe in a trial, she would have more chances of forgiveness.

— What are your thoughts on loneliness, Laura?

She looked over at Laura Lee, expectantly, always imagining the girl had all of the answers.

— I don’t know, it’s hard to talk about loneliness when I don’t feel it.

— You never feel alone? — Charlotte asks, frowning. It felt impossible to her.

— I’m never really alone, I walk along with God and anywhere I go, I follow.

The answer left Charlotte quiet for a few moments, trying to look at the skies with hooded eyes.

— I’m afraid I’ve been sent to this earth to only feel hurt.

— That’s not true, Lottie.

— How can you know?

— no one uses the sheep as the purification offer. It is the reparation one. It only comes after the sin is already made.

— Perhaps the sheep is the sin itself, that’s why it burns.

— If you are used to the fire, why would you scream while being burned?

— You scream of fear, not out of pain.

— Are you a shepherd or a farmer, Lottie?

— What? — she stared at her friend, confused.

— You can stay and be anxious about your lands or you can go and only worry about the sheeps.

— I feel like there’s only one correct answer to that question — and she also felt like the one she was going to give, wasn’t it.

— Well, we all deserve the opportunity to do something… and also to choose to do nothing at all — Laura replied, a faint, but genuine, smile on her lips.— Life is just what happens after you do one of the two.

Some nights, you went to the lake.

You liked the idea of having so much water around you. You float around, taking deep breaths, you are lost in thoughts, your mind going to your half written poem —one you only had the end of.

“And her teeth bite into my flesh.

And he complains that I can't talk about loving without talking about devouring.

I have myself on my tongue, I bite until I feel red: I leave bite marks on everything I desire.

My mind tries to convince me:

it's okay to get out, there's no point in eating if you're already full;

And a part of my mind speaks out loud:

emptiness is not filled with food;

I have love on my table, and all I can see is the guests eating.

I smile with the satisfaction of being a great hostess —at the same time as I hope I've seasoned it with poison.”

Your attention was lost when you saw a shining thing on the depth of the lake. Shine enough to be seen only with the moon light. Your fingertips moved to get close to it, but the more you swam, the more far it seemed to be.

You reached it, and when you felt the pang on your finger it was too late. You looked at the bloody point of it, staring at the little Victorian looking pin on your palm. A little lamb with some shining pearls on it.

Some nights, Charlotte sleepwalked. She said weird stuff and looked at you in a different way. She was here today, the sudden presence scaring you, but you instantly relaxed when you saw Lottie. You could never be afraid of her.

Charlotte looked at you, tilting her head as you opened your mouth to ask. She was quicker.

— and what is nature for you?

You got scared by her voice, a hoarse voice, deep and steady, like a knife cutting meat. Her eyes were scanning you.

— I love the wind.

— No. — she said, her words so convicted that even you doubted your own — what's in you?

What could she possibly mean by it? natural behavior? You didn’t know if you actually believed that, on things coming within us when we are born. You wished your nature was to be light and fond and kind, but deep down, really deep, within the catacombs of your stomach, you knew your nature was to have a tight grip around your heart —always wishing for that deep breath of release.

— hunger.

2021

When you opened the door of your house, the last thing you expected to see was a trio of women with angry faces shooting you inside your house.

— I'm almost sure this is a property invasion.

— The last thing you'll need to worry about is a property invasion once I put my hands on your fucking neck! — Natalie said, but she didn't move, only walked close behind you as you went to your colorful living room, in a huge contrast to the clothes of the other women.

You sit on the couch, taking your cup of tea and sipping it, trying to gain some time. You looked at them, waiting for them to speak.

— I might know why you all came here, but I must say, it's nice to see you all again! — you smiled genuinely, although truly nervous behind your faucet.

— oh, cut the shit off, y/n! What is up with that? — Taissa asked, throwing the newspaper with a big picture of you on it.

“Former Yellowjackets member might reveal the truth at an art show?”

You stared at the piece of paper. It was a nice pic of you, not your favorite, but a nice one.

— It's a newspaper… I don't really read it, with internet and all, I kind of-

— What the fuck are you thinking?! “reveal the truth”? Have you lost your mind?

You frowned, sighing.

— I never said I was gonna reveal anything! They just assumed that!

— And you didn't deny it!

You shake your head, getting up from the couch and going to the bookshelf on the corner of the room. Your necklace holds the key to one of the secret places, and you open it, taking the postcard out of it.

— I'm not the one threatening to reveal the truth!

You accuse them, not sure which one you look at.

Shauna frowns, sharing looks with Taissa and Natalie. You used to love them. You now wish to have them out of your skin, of your mannerisms and past. You wish to bleed all your blood so you could take away your shared sins.

— You received one too.

— a couple of days ago, yes, — you answer, putting it on the table — it was at my backstage with flowers with it.

Natalie took it, analyzing the image.

— Why is yours different?

She stares at you, wishing for answers. Answers you did not have.

— What do you mean? Different from what?

— From ours. Yours have a lamb at the corner and these numbers, what does that mean?

You take the card out of her hands, looking at it carefully again. A lamb with the numbers 119:50. What could that mean?

— I… I have no idea…

#itmighthavebeenlibrary #yellowjackets #aching bones aching teeth #reader insert #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #yellowjackets x you #autistic lottie matthews

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macsimagines · 9 months

Text

This is based off an ask that @what-is-shame sent me!! I deleted the original ask sorry but I hope you like this one!!! I finished earlier than expected but heads up its not edited at all so there may be mistakes!

TW: This is a Yandere Fic with sensitive subject matter! Please don't read if that stuff bothers you! MINORS DNI

Yandere!Shinji Hirako

You were the right person at the wrong time.

Shinji had met you before everything went wrong in his life. Before he became a Vizard, before he was exiled, before Aizen had betrayed him and turned him into a monster.

He had wanted to marry you. The biggest mistake of his life had been putting off asking for your parents blessing. He knew he couldn't trust his lieutenant and wanted to keep you as safe as possible. If he had made you his bride it would've just put a bigger target on his back.

So he waited and then missed his chance. For two hundred miserable years he had mourned the loss of what could have been, but he tried so hard to bury all those feelings of regret. His friends needed a leader and he couldn't afford to let himself be overcome with grief.

The former Captain was a smart man, he knew that you'd move on eventually and so he tried to as well. But it all felt so empty without you. He could flirt all he wanted and charm women with cheap lies, but his true first love would always be you.

But then an actual miracle happened.

Aizen had been defeated. Kisuke's plan had worked. Ichigo had come out on top.

And Shinji could return to the soul society.

None of that was what the miracle had been though. It was the fact that you, his perfect angel, had actually waited all this time for him to return. You had faith he'd come back to you.

"I ain't the same man I used to be," he had explained full of regret, "I wasn't faithful, I wasn't strong enough to get revenge, I'm just a mons-!"

You had hushed him with a kiss, the touch of your sweet lips making him feel like a man dying of thirst getting to drink water for the first time in years.

"I don't care about any of that, I just wanted you back and that's all that matters to me."

Shinji loved you. And he wasn't going to waste any time, he wasn't going to have any damn regrets. He was going to marry you. But you're old school. Always have been. Eloping wasn't an option you were willing to entertain.

"Shinji, come on, let's just do this the right way. Ok?"

And damn him he couldn't tell you no.

"Fuck this," his hollow hissed bitterly in his mind, "Permission? Who needs that shit?"

You do. For once, he was going to do right by you.

"We never should've fuckin' left her here in the first place. The right thing would've been to just take her."

He couldn't argue with that. But he knew you'd never abandon your family, they meant to much to you. That's why he needed them to approve of the marriage. Then you would be his family and everything would finally be perfect...

"No! Never! I'd never hand my daughter over to a monster like you!"

Ya, of course shit wouldn't go his way.

"When has it ever, moron?"

Your father and mother were less than enthused when he came knocking on their door. They weren't exactly huge fans of his to begin with, but he had been a Captain and status like that would've put your family up in the soul society. Foolishly he had thought regaining his title would have held some merit but now...

Future dad-in-law was spewing out obscenities, saying he was some kind of demon that had ruined his precious daughter, meanwhile future mom-in-law was just inconsolable, crying that you were throwing your life away on someone like Shinji. Again.

"She almost died when you had gone and turned yourself into a disgusting hollow-"

Like I would've done that on purpose you moron...

"Then she actually WAITED on the likes of you! So many good suitors tossed aside for a man who gave up his humanity! WHY COULDN'T YOU HAVE JUST STAYED GONE!?"

One would have thought Shinji had been a saint the way he just sat there and took all that verbal abuse. He'd have to thank Hiyori later, she had been great practice.

"Just kill 'em already. No one can stop us. No one can take her from us."

No. He could do this. He could sit there and take everything on the chin if it meant he could finally have you. Then of course, your mother had to go and finally contribute something other than her sobs...

"We have to marry her off to that Nobleman! Before it's too late!"

That makes Shinji more nervous than any of the meaningless insults or threats your father shouted ever could. Marry you off? To someone else? No. If they wanted to have you wed to some rich asshole then they should have done it when they had the chance! They can't just take you from him-!

They won't.

It's not his smartest move. Shinji did pride himself on being a careful guy, someone that wouldn't loose his cool easily but...

Sakashima Yokoshima Happofusagari

He watches the chaos unfold. He thinks the noises are the worst part. The knife meeting your dad's stomach, the wet sounds the stabbing makes, the sound of your mom's skull hitting the floorboard over and over again. That loud crack echoing in his ears.

His hollow, howling with laughter in his mind. "Ya did it! You crazy sonovabitch! Ya actually did it! Way to make a fuckin' mess!"

Shinji didn't have time for regret though. Not when he heard the way you screamed at the sight of your parents bloodied corpses.

No amount of trying to console you sufficed either.

"Get away from me! How could you do this!?"

What was he supposed to say? They were gonna take you from me? He's only one man. After two centuries of living without you, finally getting you back and then being threatened with loosing you... It could drive anyone mad...

He feels like his body is moving on auto pilot. Shinji is grabbing you rougher than he ever has, and is tying you up, not in the hot ways he has always dreamed of either, and taking you back to his private quarters. Thankfully, he had the sense to knock you out. He doesn't think his heart could take you calling him a monster.

This wasn't the way he pictured carrying you bridal style into his home. Fuck, this wasn't how he wanted this to go down... setting you down on the mats he caresses your cheek, wiping away stray tears.

Shinji knew this wouldn't come back to haunt him. The new head captain, Kyoraku Shunsui, was a shadier man than that old geezer before him had been. He'd let the Vizard get away with having murdered your parents, and even allow him to keep you tucked away from the rest of the world.

Realistically, no one would come to your aid. He wasn't glad that this was how he resorted to keeping you with him though.

"Shuddup, you whiny idiot! We finally have our bride!"

Laying back on the mats with you, and staring at your passed out face, Shinji's heart finally breaks when he realizes the dark truth.

"Yer the idiot," he hisses, "She's never going to be our bride. Just our prisoner."

#yandere bleach imagine #yandere bleach #yandere shinji hirako #shinji hirako imagine

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villainsandvictimsalliance · 10 months

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i'm pretty sure this is how toga sees herself (but, of course it's because of how society saw her) - a grotesque parody of a femininity. the last two chapters were about how toga was unable to actually love herself, hence why she asked ochako if ochako thinks she is cute and has that relieved look on her face when ocha tells her that she's the cutest. she wants to like herself and be happy with the way she is.

On the risk of sounding idiotic, I'm to say that the League of Villains is my favorite part of bnha for the way Horikoshi sells what essentially is a group of unadaptaded social failures to the readers.

On the risk of sounding pretentious, allowe me to apply terms like "mythological" to the symbolism of the League of Villains, terms like "visceral" to the emotional execution of their arcs. By that of course I'm referring to the archetypes Horikoshi chooses to select for them, the tropes he plays with. The oldest son who despairs when his father denies him his heritage. The young maiden who is lovely and joyful but by her power is perceived as an ugly evil hag. They boy king chosen and named by misfortune.

But so much more.

Horikoshi assigns the metamorphosis trope to Tomura so it can symbolize his awakening to real evil, but he simultaneously uses the same image to stablish AFO'S influence over Tomura, nothing but a butterfly on a spider's web. Patricide and matricide and horror offsprings, kids that work as bad omens, men that look like living corpses and later bloom in beauty representative of malice.

He uses motifs like the maiden, the mother, the crone on Toga, themes of monstrous femininity as perceived by society. Cannibalistic sparrows bursting out of her belly in dreams, Toga shaving her skin and it melting all around her every time she shapeshifts, the very-on-the-face picture of Toga as a twisted old witch towering over Ochako. Female emotions naturally perceived as threats for being irrational or erratical. Obsessive love and apparent vanity guiding her actions.

Dabi's the jealous brother, the fallen prince, he's the orphic messenger emerging from the depths of the underworld to share the judgment of the Hades. He's called a demon. All the Frankenstein references, his desperation among ice and snow, the liturgical aspect of the name he choose: Dabi, cremation. Horikoshi dresses him in white to go to the final battle, changed the color of his hair like the changing of seasons, made him cry blood.

When the Leagues of Villain suffers, the pannels look almost biblical, ritualistic. It's the mythos of it all, for me.

Like when Curious held a bloody Toga in her arms, speaking of martyrs and journalistic storytelling, Toga made some sculpture from the renaissance for the way her limbs hanged, the light illuminated her. She was Jesus Christ dead on Virgin Mary's arms in that panel, cold, lifeless, tragic. She's the fallen angel coleric eyes staring at her enemies from over her shoulder/arm. She's Judith with the head of Holofernes, she's the "witch" getting burn on Salem for something though they saw thought they heard throught did happened.

It's the stigmata on Tomura's hands, the father (AFO), the son (Tomura) and the holy spirit of them both (the original quirk of AFO himself). He's the demigod proving himself on trials so he can obtain the blessing of his divine father. He is the twice orphan coated in darkness when the triumph finally comes. He got an town kneeling in front of him, swearing loyalty; he is a prisoner of his own body, his entire life is surrounded with hands as if to remind it how there was no one to save him now or then, except for the devil he had to make a deal with.

Dabi is Icarus, wings on fire falling to the ocean, he is the son of Icarus, repeating his mistake once again. He is Phaeton on Helios chariot, burning as he descends, threatening as he rides to burn the heavens and freeze the earth. He's Cain trying to kill Abel, he is Esau, fighting to get his birthright back. He's the prodigal son, he's Lazarus coming back to life, he's Judas himself selling Twice for what he thought was a good deal, he's the angel raining fire on the sins of men.

On the risk of losing my mind, those are not only vehicles of the narrative to convein meaning, but it's also what them (Tomura, Dabi, Toga and all the members of the League of Villains), have been feed by society. I deeply apologize for ranting on your ask, anon, but you're so right it inspired me.

We know Horikoshi made a whole point of telling us AFO is obsessed with comic books and most recently, he presented through a flashback of the League the idea that the internal storytelling of bnha is quiet important to the development of the plot. Heroes and villains are a narrative the enemy used to create to identify their rivals, something that later evolved from comics to real life. When Toga rejects taking a name, it's the same as when she rejected becoming just a story for Curious to write or AFO to guide. When All Might and every other hero talks about the League, is always on those weird narrative guidelines.

So what Ochako does is rejecting that narrative creates by society, getting pass all the lies and all machinations and judgement and prejudices and all the expectations, so she can finally reach the real Toga. Similar to how we see Endeavor asking Touya to tell him how he feels. He wants to hear it from him, to listen and comprehend now that he's ready, he is getting rid of all that cultural baggage that's not working, cleaning the dirt from his eyes. And what Deku is yet to do: find Tenko among all the darkness and barriers AFO created on Tomura and pull him out.

Touya, Toga, Tomura, they were deep within the narrative, incapable of saving themselves 'cause they were incapable of seeing past their trauma and hurt. Therefore, the importance of the UA kids recognizing the falsehood of the morals of the hero society and changing those in time to save not only the world, but the victims such beliefs had left.

HOLY SHIT THIS BECAME AND IMPROVISED META SORRY ANON. YOU DID NOT ASK FOR ANY OF IT OMG. YOU WERE ONLY ANSWERING MY TAGS ON A PREVIOUS POST. SORRY SORRY

#I have two modes: either I don't respond at all or I write an entire small book as a response #sorry :(#shan's asks #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #league of villains #lov #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha 393 #toga himiko #dabi #tomura shigaraki #toya todoroki #touya todoroki #tenko Shimura #bnha manga spoilers

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januaryembrs · 1 year

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ALL FOR YOU | Luke Skywalker x reader

Request: Yay to 1k, well deserved! :))) <33 I hope you don't mind me asking for Luke skywalker x reader? I feel like there's so few pieces and overall love for him in fanfiction. Maybe something simple like them reuniting after he's taken up his quest and returns to Tattooine? Or Reader being fascinated by his lightsaber but too reserved to ask him for a demonstration let alone touching it? You decide, if none of these ideas appeal to you then I shall be happy with whatever you come up with instead, as it is a gain for the Luke fandom! <3

description: A familiar face strolls into your flower farm on Tatooine, four years after he abandoned you in search of a princess.

Word count: 1.1k

trigger warnings: sad, angst, crying, leaving reader, semi break up? ends in fluff I promise

main masterlist

Author’s note: I'm so sure I had a second Luke ask in my inbox that has gone missing so if anyone else asked for one that isn't this, please send it again I have no clue what's happened to it!

The air in your lungs felt dry as you swept the floor of your shop. It had been in your family generations, and quite successful too as a flora farmer on Tatooine seeing as the harsh sand air made it difficult for anyone to breed plants. You, however, had been blessed with a sheltered farm. Expensive to run but it was worth it seeing how beautiful the flowers bloomed at your tender hands.

You heard the bell to your front door open, though you were certain you had put it on the latch. “I’m sorry, we’re closed for the day,” You called over your shoulder, not paying attention to who it was who had intruded. Probably a mistake, you thought, cleaning the sharp grains of sand into a neat pile near the wall. You got little thievery this side of Mos Espa, and trusted the locals to be kind to you while your back was turned.

“I’m not here for flowers,”

You froze in your place, back straightening tensely. You knew that voice; had always known that voice.

It was the call to home, the spirit in your stomach on the most lethal of Tatooine storms, the nostalgia you feel smelling your mother’s cooking. Your childhood bedroom, your tenth life day, your first time at school where you met him.

A mop of blonde hair that poked into his sight, round blue eyes that looked up at you in awe (you had always been taller than him growing up), the toothless smile he gave you when you offered him to share your new ink.

Luke Skywalker had been your first kiss, your first dance, your best friend, your light on a dark sand night. It had been four years since he left home with the crazy old Ben, following two droids and a princess.

No word as to how he was, where he was going, or whether he intended to come back. Yet here he was.

You stood, mouth hanging agape, a frown pulling on your features.

Luke fiddled with a long-stemmed funnel flower, a small smile gracing his features at your stunned expression. He knew he should have come back, he should have been back a long time ago. But he promised himself the day he found Leia and learnt of the depth the Empire wished to destroy the galaxy, he would not rest until he had made the universe safe for you again.

Safe for you both, for the family you had always talked of starting together.

“L-Luke?” You stuttered, broom clattering to the floor in your shocked state. Your eyes were deceiving you, surely. He had not come back for you, not said a word since that day. And now suddenly he was back here on a scum hole like Tatooine? “You- They said you were dead.”

“Dead?” He seemed confused now, stepping further into your shop with a soft look in his eyes. He looked tired, aged. He had grown taller since you last saw him, his arms seemed wider and his face more chiselled. But his eyes were the same, the way he flicked his hair subconsciously took you back to the little boy whose aunt had yet to cut his blonde locks.

“You were captured by the Empire, that’s what they kept saying,” Your voice was hoarse, your eyes now stinging as they were rapidly filling with tears. “You and the Alderaan Princess. The two of you got captured from the resistance-”

Luke was in front of you now, and your sad gaze couldn’t take him in fast enough. He was still your Luke. He was older, seemed wiser as though the weight of the world, every world, had done nothing but press down on him the past four years.

“I’m here, aren’t I? I wouldn’t let anyone take me from you,” He replied, his hands reaching out to hold the top of your arms, gentle as ever yet you could see in his face he was almost begging for you to react. Say something, yell at him for leaving, scream at him to get out, actually cry rather than stare at him so heartbroken and wetly.

“They said-” You gulped, as you felt you were stuck on a loop of recalling all you had heard from him in the years that had passed. You huffed, willing yourself to actually spit out what was stabbing a thorn into your heart so deeply, “You left me.”

You started crying. Sobbing and shaking, and Luke immediately pulled you into his chest. His smell hadn’t changed one bit, and the thought made you cry harder.

“You ran off after another woman and said nothing for four years. I thought you were dead, I thought you hated me.” Came your muffled, throaty voice in his shoulder. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his waist, as if you didn’t trust him not to vanish at the touch. “I dreamed of this for so many nights, I didn’t realise it would hurt so much to see you again,”

Luke felt his eyes grow hot at your confession, neither happy nor sad to see him. Just hurt, and nor could he blame you. “I know.” He cleared the frog in his own throat, “I know, I’m sorry. Just please trust I stayed away to keep you safe. I could never live with myself if you had been hurt because of me,”

“So you left me for another woman?” You pulled away, looking at him aghast, wiping the tears on the back of your hand. It was in vain as more came barreling down anyway, landing on his black robes.

“No! Never,” Luke sighed, bringing his forehead to meet yours, “Leia is… Leia’s my sister. I swear I’ll explain everything, there is so much for me to tell you just,” He brushed his nose against yours, “Please trust me. I was protecting you, I was trying to make things safe, for the life we want together,” His ocean blue eyes met yours, his filled with concern as he tried to read you. Your mind was so muddled even his force powers couldn’t quite decipher quite how it was you were feeling seeing as you didn’t even know yourself, “You do still want that with me, right?”

You sighed, feeling his words fan over your lips in a manner you had been dreaming of for four long years. You needed to kiss him; you hadn’t stopped needing him as embarrassing as it was. All you had ever known, all you had ever wanted was Luke Skywalker.

“Ofcour-” Somehow, Luke knew what you were thinking, what you needed, though there had never been a time when he didn’t, as he brought your lips together passionately.

You thought it best to wait until his kiss stopped being so all-encompassing to ask about the lightsaber attached to his hip.

#luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker x y/n #Luke skywalker imagine #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars #mark Hamill x reader #mark Hamill imagine #mark Hamill fanfiction #jedi #lightsaber #request

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bokettochild · 11 months

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I'm back.

This was for Mother's Day, but I had another thing out that day and couldn't finish this one in time. Then rewrote this one. then merged the drafts, then had to adjust things, but here it is and now Violet's Mother has a name :)

I hope you enjoy!

(Full fic below the cut if you want to read it here and not on Ao3)

Violet's Mother

There are incidents and then there are Violet Incidents.

There are other kinds as well, Four supposes, but those are limited in their types and usually just fall under the bigger category of ‘incidents’, since most of those situations only happen once.

One could debate that the Violet Incident has only happened twice, others might agree that the thing in the bar that hasn’t let Warriors and Legend look each other in the face since was something else entirely. Four, however, finds it easier to classify it under the umbrella of ‘Violet Incidents’ which he and Wind have agreed are any incidents that involve Legend pretending to be a woman in order to save someone’s ass.

In hindsight, they’re kind of funny.

They’re even more funny when he doesn’t have to do anything except stand there. Legend does most of the work honestly, and they follow along. Wind has played a part of course, always backing up Legend’s stories or feeding the vet what information he needs to make a believable performance, but Four has been blessed with only having to perform two simple tasks, and between Vio and Red, they’re quite easy: cry, and cling to Legend the moment the vet comes within his view.

Okay, so maybe the first time they hadn’t been planning on that, but they were genuinely overwhelmed, tired, and fighting a migraine, so clinging to the vet had been the most wonderful thought in the world at the moment because he was warm and safe and they could hide their eyes for a bit in his shoulder and just breath for a moment while he held them. The second time was definitely acting though, although Red still enjoyed it. Red always enjoys when they can trick someone into hugging them.

Not that it’s tricking if Legend did it of his own accord, but still, Red likes feeling like he’s had something to do with it, so they let him.

There are side effects too, in Violet Incidents. Legend and Warriors are always so tired looking when it’s over, and the vet more often than not spends hours afterwards just staring at nothing for a while, looking done with the world in general until he eventually passes out and curls up against whomever he’s sharing a bed with that night.

Not Warriors though. Never Warriors. Warriors and the vet avoid each other when these things happen.

They have good reason to. Twilight, once he knows what these incidents are (aka, after the second one) has taken to teasing them incessantly, and encouraging the rest of them to do the same. The rancher seems to take extreme pleasure in being able to make the knight flush and sigh and Legend brighten like a tomato and start snapping at him with only a few simple words. And Time never stops the rancher. If anything, he leaves the situation alone. Well, after asking Warriors in a teasing manner if the vet was going to be his step-mother, which earned their leader a twisted ear and granted them the beautiful sight of their old man getting scolded.

Other than that particular time though, most of them know better than to push those particular buttons. Sure, Hyrule grins and giggles and Wild laughs his fair share in the moment, but the lot of them have the good sense to not tease the quartet involved. After all, Nayru only knows when the day may come when they may be the one in need of the vet’s acting skills to save their ass, and none of them want to give the other any reason to think saving them would be a mistake.

Except Twilight, but Twilight's already had his turn, the whole thing being born from Legend trying to cover their asses and draw attention away from the feral rancher. For that reason, Twilight seems to not worry about needing another save, and it’s only Legend’s frequent threats to muzzle him that keeps the rancher in any ways at bay.

Honestly, he didn’t think the man was such a tease!

As for themselves, Four doesn’t tease the vet. No, goodness knows if the others all knew how many times he’s been in a market or village trying to handle something and got mistaken for a child, they’d never let him live it down. Legend’s covered his ass countless times in those incidents, assuring that he won’t tell if Four doesn’t about how many times Violet and her mother have had to make appearances throughout time so that Four doesn’t get dragged off by some worried adult who thought they found an abandoned or lost kid.

By now, they can’t even count on both hands how many times they’ve had to call Legend “mom” to get out of some sort of trouble. A random village in an era they couldn’t place, a street at night heading back to their inn, a forest lane outside of a town while they were scouting ahead. Legend’s saved their ass so, so many times by pulling out the mother act since that first time in the captain’s era.

The era they are now in. Still.

The incident at the bar was only a week or so ago. After it had been over, the captain and veteran had been only too eager to leave the town, find the stalfos encampment and take it out. Not that it had actually been that simple; fighting stalfos is more dangerous, arguably, than fighting the average monster. First of all, stalfos have no blood, so there’s no way to guess if they’re infected. Secondly, stalfos screams have the capacity to temporarily stun most living beings, which had meant that all of them, minus Wild, had been at a disadvantage. Hyrule and Legend had poured every ounce of their magic into holding temporary shields around the rest of the heroes, and that had negated some of the damage, but only so much. Fortunately, their being in a forest meant that the chances of fairies lurking about was greatly increased, and most of their injuries had been healed within moments, only light bruising and some muscle soreness remaining.

Unfortunately, fairies can’t do much of anything for magical exhaustion.

Their magical users have been dragging since as a result, and although Hyrule has recovered somewhat, their vet has not, and according to the traveler, that would be due to the fact that Legend’s magic stores are uncommonly low, and he’s been drawing more on his magical core than is healthy.

That’s probably why, after they got the letter asking them to come to castle town, Warriors insisted on all of them stopping to rest at an inn before he went to see his princess.

That’s where they are now anyway. It’s their first morning back in Castletown and Warriors is already fussing with his clothes, hair, and armor, pulling himself together while simultaneously looking like death warmed over (those stalfos really got a lot of damage on the man) as he struggles to both drink his coffee for the morning and get ready.

Time, sighing, crosses over to help him. “Her highness will understand if you can’t be there first thing, captain, don’t push yourself.”

Warriors makes some noncommittal noise into his mug before settling it down and returning to attempting to buckle on his pauldron with hands that shake far more than usual.

Their leader bats said hand to the side, buckling the thing on himself. “Warriors, breathe.”

“I’m breathing, Sprout.”

“While not doing anything else.”

One perfect brow arches as royal blue eyes fix their leader in place. “So, no sitting, standing, laying, moving, shifting-”

“You know what I mean.” Comes the returning sigh, Time looking entirely done.

Wind, sitting beside Four on one of the beds, giggles, leaning over to whisper to them, “Time did this all the time to him during the war.”

“Time?” They can’t exactly believe that, but Wind nods, smirking as Wars does the same at the leader who cuffs him over the head for his impudence.

“Yep. The things Mask would get up to,” the sailor giggles, “they make Violet Incidents look tame.”

The room as a whole pauses, and the eight heroes within turn to stare at the sailor.

Legend, blessedly, is still asleep in their second room, and according to Hyrule, shows no sign of waking for at least another couple of hours. Magical exhaustion, the traveler had assured all of them, nothing to be too worried about, although the sooner they could find a potion to help restore the vet’s magic, the better.

“A what incident?” Twilight, because of course it’s Twilight, asks, grinning that troublesome smile that usually only gets turned on their captain but now focuses its full strength on Wind, even as Warriors drops his head into his hands and sighs.

The sailor chuckles, well aware, Four thinks, of what he’s doing. “A ‘Violet Incident’.” He explains. “An incident where Four has to pretend to be Legend’s and Wars’ daughter.” Their definition is different, but Wind spares them that. Or tries too anyway. It doesn’t work.

“So, the one earlier this week…” Hyrule’s eyes flit to Warriors, smile apologetic but eyes glinting.

“Four wasn’t involved in that.” Sky points out, not exactly helpfully.

Warriors’ head hits the wall.

Twilight snickers. “Yeah, that was all our vet and the captain.”

“Well aware!”

Even they can’t help but smile at the man’s misery. Warriors hasn’t looked at or talked to Legend since it happened, with the sole exception of checking in on him after the battle was over, when Legend had nearly collapsed the minute the last monster had fallen. Even then though, Warriors was a flushing and awkward mess and Legend himself was all too eager to assure the man he was fine, just tired, no the blood wasn’t his so please for the love of Hylia go bother someone else!

Four can’t say they’ve ever seen Warriors move so quickly.

“That,” Wind proclaims, folding his hands in front of him like Dot does when she’s trying to look dignified, “also qualifies.”

“How?” Comes the responding question, but of course Wind already has an answer because the true definition is based on the vet’s suffering and not Four's own.

“Because all ‘Violet Incidents’ require Legend. If Legend saves your ass by pretending to be someone’s mother and or wife, it qualifies.” And there’s the real definition.

There’s a short pause, during which most of them exchange glances, but then Sky asks what seems to be on the minds of all of them. “Then if the deciding factor is Legend, why are the incident’s named after Four?”

They glare.

“Four’s fake name?” The skyloftian corrects.

“Because,” Wind answers, shrugging, “Legend doesn’t exactly have a fake name. I mean,” and yes, the sailor’s grinning at Warriors, but the captain can’t see so it’s not like Wind is going to be held accountable for it, “other than Missus Taylor.”

“I regret telling you my last name,” Warriors groans, dragging a hand over his face as though he no longer gives a crap how he looks. Honestly, they’d be shocked if that was the first thing in his mind right now.

“You have a last name?” Hyrule breathes, startled.

“Everyone in my era does,” the captain explains, “there’s too many people to not. It gets confusing without. Now,” he claps his hands and turn to the rest of them, eyes dead and face almost Time’s disapproving glare, “we have other things to be doing today than speculating on what Legend’s ‘fake name’ should be.” The man stumbles just a bit while saying that, and Twilight chortles just a bit at the sound, earning him the full force of the captain’s stare, which, for once, actually does nothing. Still, the man continues. “Her highness has asked that I report to Hyrule Castle to explain… recent developments-”

“Meaning the news story about his marriage.” Hyrule whispers to Sky, just loud enough that the rest of them can hear.

Except Wars. Either the captain doesn’t hear, or he chooses to ignore it, because he just keeps speaking. “-and give her a progress report on our investigation. Time,” he turns to the man in question, “if you could come with me?”

“Of course.” As leader, the old man will need to be there to act as Warriors’ back-up and fill in anything the captain may or may not miss. Wars is good, but his focus is more analytical. Time may have noticed something outside of the captain’s report that he thinks will be important, and even if he hasn’t, having someone there to back Wars up is probably for the best.

“Twilight too,” their captain adds, turning to said rancher with a look that borders very closely on ‘open your mouth I dare you’. Their rivalry, or whatever they have between them, has always been interesting to watch, and while they’re closer to Twilight than the captain, in this case, they would take Warriors’ side, no questions asked.

After all, they suffer too when Twilight brings up ‘Violet Incidents’, and he’s been doing it frequently.

Still, that doesn’t exactly explain why the rancher needs to come. “Me?”” he asks, “why?”

“Because there’s a stack of paperwork sitting on my desk that is entirely existent because you can’t keep your teeth to yourself,” the captain growls. “If I have to suffer because of you, I’m dragging you down with me.”

“Sounds fair to me!” Sky chirps, pausing in doling out the breakfast Wild had made them. “What about the rest of us?”

Warriors’ face lightens dramatically as he turns from the rancher to Sky, smiling just a bit, still tired but genuine, at the younger knight. “You six are free to do what you want. I’d like to ask for as little chaos as possible, but knowing you lot, that’s out of the question. Still, maybe with the farmers out of the picture, civilized behavior has a better chance of prevailing.”

“I’m right here,” Hyrule teases, kicking his legs lazily as he perches on the other bed in the room.

“You,” Warriors grins, close enough to reach over and ruffle the traveler’s hair, which he does, “aren’t a farmer. You’re a feral little gremlin, but you also know how to not draw attention to yourself, which is really all I’m asking here.”

“So, we can do whatever we want,” the traveler surmises, “as long as we’re not caught?” His eyes glint wildly.

“And as long as you don’t break any major laws,” Warriors agrees, which seems to be a very loose request, but they can only imagine what Time and Wind have done to Wars in the past for his standards to be so low now, “then yes.”

They’re not even sure how to feel about the fact that Sky smiles at that. They don’t have time to figure it out though, because Warriors turns from musing Hyrule’s hair to stare at them and Wind, hand dropping to the bag at his belt for a moment before pulling out a smaller rupee pouch, not unlike their own. “As for you two,” the captain announces, “I have a request.”

Oh? What could the captain want?

The pouch is handed to them. Not tossed, handed; Warriors watching that it reaches Four’s hands carefully before he continues speaking. “Take this, and when Legend wakes up, because Nayru knows he’ll refuse to sit still until I get back, go out on the town and have some fun.” And then, to follow up while looking Wind dead in the eye “tame fun. Remember, vet’s still exhausted.”

They blink up at him. “Are you asking us to babysit Legend?”

The mere thought is laughable quite honestly. Legend, out of all of them, is the one least in need of someone to make sure he’s taken care of or behaving. Wild and Hyrule may be survivors, and Time and Warriors may be leaders, but Legend is a veteran, and he’s been doing this longer than any of them can imagine. Trying to tell anyone that the vet needs someone to keep him out of trouble is like… well honestly, they can’t think of anything more absurd than that.

Fortunately, that doesn’t appear to be what Warriors means, the man shaking his head at them with a small smile. A real, tired, but fond smile.

It’s the realest kind of Warriors smile, Red thinks.

“No, of course not. This is,” the man pauses, considering his words, “this is me trying to pay Legend back, in a way. I can’t do it by myself, but I know you two probably feel the same way, so I’m asking you two to handle it while I take care of things at the castle. Does that make sense? Take him by the market, grab lunch together. Tell him it’s on me.”

That’s... Pretty generous. More so when they open the bag and see how much is inside.

“Holy shit!” Wind starts, whipping up to stare at the captain. “I thought you were broke!”

The man laughs, reaching over to ruffle blonde curls. “I was, in Legend’s Hyrule, because I hadn’t been paid in months. Arty sent this with her summons though.”

“This is your paycheck?”

“A fraction of it,” the captain smiles, lopsided and warm. “I get paid pretty well, being a soldier and a hero and all.”

“I wish we got paid,” someone sighs, playfully dramatic.

They kind of wish they did too, but they’re pretty sure the only reason Warriors is, is because he joined them by assignment of his princess, unlike the rest of them who kind of just went through the portals of their own accord when they appeared in their eras. They’re not complaining though. Since Warriors is technically on assignment, when he’s paid, he’s often been the one to foot the bill for things like inn rooms, potions, and supplies, citing it as “mission expenses” which he’ll be paid back for later.

It works for them.

“So, will you do it?” They forgot he’s still waiting for an answer.

Wind, however, has not. “Sure thing, cap’n.” A playful salute joins the words, and they mimic it because, why not? “We’ll do our best to give the vet a great time!”

“Good,” another hair ruffle, and then one for them too, “I knew I could count on you two,” the captain beams.

They’re not sure how they feel about the warmth that blossoms up inside them at the sight.

“What about us four?” Wild protests, playfully offended.

“Us Four,” they correct, pointing to themselves. Time is the only one to chuckle.

Ah well, one day they’ll get the joke.

“The rest of you,” Warriors answers, straightening up, and goddesses does he look regal when he’s standing at his full height, all made up to go to the castle, “are to stay out of this.” The man’s brow furrows, disapproval and judgment clear and making Green want to smile. “I don’t trust you to not tease the vet about why I’m thanking him.”

Which is fair, all things considered, what with all the teasing from Twilight. Again, most of the others know better, but only when it comes to Legend, and Warriors can’t escape it, so it would make sense he’s wary about what it’s like when he’s not around.

No one contests it though, the three eldest depart without a hitch later that morning. Shortly after, Sky and Hyrule decide to head off into town to pick up some more potions and explore the area. To their surprise, Wild seems more interested in staying here at the inn, organizing his inventory and taking up nearly all of one of their two inn rooms to do so.

That’s okay though. They head to the other room, Wind on their tail, and sit and discuss where to go until Legend eventually blinks awake.

The vet, true to the captain’s prediction, has no intention of staying in. In fact, he seems pretty ticked that he’d not been included in planning the day with the rest of them and that he has to be filled in after nearly everyone else has left. He’s also ticked at himself for sleeping in, but Wind doesn’t let that last long.

Wind, bright, sunshiny Wind who everyone knows Legend has a soft spot for, quickly diverts Legend’s attention by telling him that they want to go to the market and could he please, please come with them? All the other adult heroes are busy and while Four can, no one will believe that Four’s not a kid.

Once upon a time, they would have had some words on that topic, but in the wake of the Violet Incidents, there is now overwhelming proof that Wind is, tragically, correct.

“Fine,” Legend agrees, looking away from Wind’s pleading gaze (which can out match even Red’s somehow, quite amazingly). “Let me get dressed first at least, kiddo, yeesh.”

Wind waits exactly as long as it takes for the vet to throw on the rest of his clothes before grabbing ahold of the man’s hand, and then Four’s own, and all but dragging them to the door.

They laugh, and Legend chuckles just a bit, holding onto his hat as he lets the youngest of their group direct him out of the door and towards some street or another.

They have to remind themselves that Wind used to live in this world, for a short while, and does, in fact, know where he’s going. They’re not going to get lost.

And they don’t. Wind leads them to the market, and while Legend seems skeptical at first about spending a day “just shopping and having fun” he accepts it eventually, mostly after they convince him that Warriors is paying and there’s not anything else for them to do.

They do have fun too. Legend apparently has never tried doing this before, but between their own efforts and Wind’s, they manage to take the elder hero about the town to a few shops and stalls. The bookshop is their favorite, and Legend’s too, or so they had thought, but once Wind takes them to an odds-and-ends store they know in an instant, and are quite right, that it has the vet’s full attention faster than anything off the battlefield.

Somehow, from there, it becomes a contest. They don’t exactly say as much to each other, but Wind and Four are competitive, and it’s only natural that they begin to make a game out of who can find a place that will make Legend’s eyes blow the widest or smile tilt just a little more towards genuine.

It’s fun. Not just the competition, but just… spending time with Wind and Legend.

They play a few games (learning in the process that Legend’s a crack shot at the archery booth), visit more than just a few shops, which, surprisingly allow them to mess around a bit. It’s Legend who suggests they pop into a costume shop, “for fun” and though they don’t buy anything (well, they don’t, but Legend certainly does), the three of them do have a lot of fun trying things on.

Honestly, they’ve never seen Legend smile as wide as when they were in there. Messing around, playing, being silly. For someone who can’t meet Warriors eyes after pretending to be his wife, Legend is surprisingly open to dressing in even the most ridiculous of outfits.

“You should see the ones I have at home,” the vet chuckles, wriggling back out of a pumpkin costume that Wind had dared him to try on. Four has no clue why the thing exists, but Wind had begged to take a photo to tease Twilight with and the vet had happily obliged.

Wind eyes sparkle as his picture prints out and he looks it over, but more so as they look up to their older brother. “Really? What’s the craziest one you have?”

The fact that Legend has to pause and think, and then checks himself each time he tries to answer, definitely says something. In the end though, the vet shrugs, smiling as he accepts the next ridiculous costume that Four hands him. “Quite frankly, I don’t think I could name just one. They’re all pretty bizarre.” And he promises, when they ask, to let them see sometime. “Probably not until we’re at the ranch though, or my house.”

Still, that’s better than nothing.

“Can I take photos of those ones too?” Wind asks, readying his picto-box for another picture, this time with Four as the smithy finishes pulling on the silly hat he’d found in one of the boxes around the shop.

Legend laughs, bright and clear and hilariously squeaky. “Sure, sailor. Whatever makes you happy.”

“Well in that case-” and whatever dastardly thought the teen has is cut off by the sound of his stomach, making the younger flush slightly.

Legend’s face softens just the slightest bit, smile more a smirk now, but the usual one, not the mean one. It’s Legend’s normal playful-face. “Shall we get lunch next then?”

“I think,” Four corrects, “that would be ‘brunch’. I know you haven’t eaten anything yet at least.”

“Two gremlins pulled me out of the inn before I had the chance.” The words are delivered with a tweak to their ears that makes Four squeak.

They leave the shop shortly after. Legend had found a bunny themed outfit that he claimed was “too Ravio not to buy for him” and so they’d visited the counter briefly. The man there, an elderly fellow, smiles at them as he rings them up, handing over the outfit with a wink. “It’s so nice to see a lovely family like yours in here. Do come again!”

They don’t think anything about the fact that he gives them a discount either, a bargain is a bargain as Legend always says, but then they reach the restaurant that Wind’s been insisting is “the best in all Castletown!” and they’re met with a similar sentiment, although this time in far more familiar phrasing.

“How lovely,” the lady at the front greets as the two smaller heroes drag Legend inside, the vet still smiling just a bit, “welcome in, folks!” And then she does the most infuriating thing and leans over to look him and Wind in the eyes, smiling condescendingly at them. “Have you two brought your mum in for our Mother’s Day special?”

And, well… they kind of have. They didn’t know there was a special of course, but once again, a deal is a deal and while Legend isn’t exactly their mom…

It doesn’t really matter. Especially not when someone at another table looks around and spies them, and immediately starts waving. “Hello there, Missus Taylor! Hello Violet!”

Green, internally, groans as they are recognized. Fortunately, Red takes the forefront and waves back, smiling shyly to the lady at the table and earning a soft coo in return.

“Missus Taylor?” The greeter starts slightly, standing up straight and looking Legend in the face, all surprise and chipperness even as the vet flushes a bit and tries to offer a smile. “Why, it’s an honour, madame! Your husband has done so much for all of us! Please, wait just a moment and I’ll get you a table as soon as possible!”

As soon as possible, it would seem, turns out to be within a few minutes, during which Wind and Four share a look and agree as one to apologize once there aren’t so many eyes on them.

This was supposed to be a day to make up for Legend having to play this role, not another Incident. It would seem, however, there’s not much chance of escaping these sorts of things.

“Should we go somewhere else?” Wind asks, glancing up at the vet as the lady from the front comes to lead them towards the back.

The veteran looks exhausted, but he shakes his head. “It’s not the end of the world. You said the foods good, right?”

It’s telling that he doesn’t complain more.

They make a note to make sure and pick up some magic potions before leaving- No, to stock up on potions to keep on hand. Maybe if Legend’s magical core is in better shape he will be too, and they owe him at least that much after what he does for them. And since apparently paying him back means taking up the role again, they kind of owe him even more now.

The place is nice at least. It’s rustic and charming, and checkerboard tablecloths are spread over little wooden tables throughout the room, stools set around and flowers sitting in centerpieces all around. They’re all made up of roses right now, with little decorated place cards that say “Happy Mother’s Day”.

The place is stuffed full, and there’s not much room between the tables, but they’re given one in the back, out of the worst of the bustle and shouting between patrons. They’d guess the table is probably kept aside for special guests, and for once, thank the fact that they’ve been mistaken for Warriors’ wife and kids because apparently the man has enough celebrity status to be given VIP treatment without a second thought.

“You’re right, this place is pretty nice,” Legend observes, still smiling that tired, but real smile as they settle down and the server assures them she’ll be right back to get their orders. Legend’s smile and Warriors’ have the same qualities these days, warm and weary, but genuine, and they’re glad to see it even if they do wish it was the bright and playful thing from the costume shop.

“Wars used to bring us here when the war was over,” Wind informs them, glancing over the carefully hand-written menu that’s been left on the table.

“He did?”

“Yeah,” the sailor glances around absently. “They were still trying to figure out how to send us all home, so in the meantime he took Time and I, and a few other friends, here to have dinner. The food is the best.”

“Any recommendations?” And there’s the playfulness they were hoping to see.

Wind grins right back, cocking his head on one side as he considers. “I know I’m always partial to the sea food dishes, but knowing your taste…” they’re not sure if Wind closes his eyes in thought as a conscious action or not, but it’s really kind of cute, “I think, this will please you.” And the sailor points to the listing for some sort of rich stew and savory bread that’s on the menu.

They take a look for themselves and when the server comes back they all have their orders, although Legend is the one who makes them, since apparently he is, once more, their mother today.

On Mother's Day.

The irony is sort of killing them, and Vio is having trouble not making them smile.

It gets harder still when the lady taking their order smiles and tells them that their current Mother’s Day special includes a half-off meal for mother’s and a free dessert. “Kids under ten eat free as well!”

And well, a deal is a deal, right? And Wind did say it first!

“I’m eight!” Red pipes up, “does that mean I count?”

“Yes, of course.” The woman beams at them, and then glances up to Wind expectantly.

The sailor flushes, mouth opening-

“My big brother is fourteen!” Red continues. Because yes, this is, in a way, a slight vengeance against the sailor for getting them involved at the market in his world. To cover a theft no less. By pirates, as Blue was only too frustrated to hear.

Their whole thing before being known as a hero was that they handled pirates, and knowing they aided in a raid, in any small way, triggers just the slightest bit of frustration with the most outspoken of their facets.

“Alright then!” The server chirps, and then recounts their order, offers Four another adoring and extremely condescending smile, and then heads off to the kitchen.

Legend chuckles. “Really F-”

“Violet,” Wind corrects softly, glancing around warily.

The vet pauses, checking himself before nodding and repeating, now corrected, with what he was going to say. “Really, Violet, you aren’t going to let your brother eat free?”

Dang, if Legend slipped form his role, he really must be tired! They’ve seen him play their mother half-asleep and with his eyes shut!

They, however, are perfectly capable of staying in character, which is definitely why they stick their tongue out at the sailor. Definitely.

Legend laughs, soft and warm, and shakes his head. “You two. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

It’s honestly such a mom thing to say that they’re not sure if the vet is acting or being serious.

And hey, they weren’t exactly planning on acting during their meal, but also, they aren’t exactly? Red is sort of just taking the lead and rather than being reserved as they normally would be, they just sort of… let themselves be silly. They let themselves drop the mature adult facade and be a kid because, hey, Violet is supposed to be eight, right? They can act like a kid and no one, not even the vet or Wind, will think twice of it!

And Wind is doing the same thing. The sailor isn’t trying to act like an adult either, or prove himself, and, even though they’re sort of supposed to be here to help the vet relax, it kind of feels like they’re the ones getting a break too here.

Well, until some kid starts insulting the vet.

“Who are you?” It’s some child from the table next to theirs, watching them with wide eyes and a little pout of thought on their face. The boy would almost be cute, they think, if not for the haughty look he keeps shooting at them.

“I’m Violet.” Red answers back, and barely contains a giggle because, hey, that’s what Blue used to call Vio when he was mad at him!

The other boy glances over at the vet and sailor, who are currently looking up at the wall decor around them and exchanging thoughts on it.

Artists. They’re not sure what they expected.

“Who are they?”

“That’s my momma and my big brother.” They’re almost tempted to complete the nonsense and name Wind as their big sister, but apparently the sailor is about as well known in this time as its own hero is.

The other child smirks. “That’s your mom? She’s tiny!”

Considering the child’s own mother- or who they presume to be his mother considering she’s sitting with him- is a very tall and muscular looking woman, the kid does have a bit of a point. Still, as someone with a height problem themselves, they’re not about to accept someone mocking their mother- er- brother. “She is not!”

“Is so.”

Are they really arguing with a child?

Yes, Blue declares, yes they are.

“Well,” they cross their arms as they stare down the distance between their two tables at the other child, “that’s just because she’s compact awesome.” An excuse that their father has murmured many a time in teasing tones to them, usually while tugging their hair, but which they’ve grown sort of attached to.

The vet spares them a short, very confused, glance.

The other child, the boy, glances at the vet again, staring for a very long while before shaking his head. “No.”

“She is.” They tilt their chin up just a bit, flashing a grin.

“My mom is cooler.”

Excuse?

“Not possible,” they smirk, “my mom can fight a lynel.”

“My mom’s a soldier.”

“My mom fought Ganon.”

“My mom fought Cia.”

Okay, now this kid is really getting on their nerves. It’s not even that they have anything against the woman seated at the other table and happily chattering with some other adults. They’re sure she might be an amazing person, all told, but something inside them is insisting- nay, demanding, that they not allow this slander to stand.

“Well, my mom can do magic.”

The other child’s eyes widen just a bit, glancing at the vet who is subtly watching them with a look of confusion on his face. Heck, even Wind is staring, mouthing a silent “what are you doing?” to them. But they’ve taken the steps and they’re not exactly about to let a child best them. Or insult the vet.

Said child, however, seems to hold similar convictions, looking back at them with a scowl on their little face. “Nuh uh.”

“She can,” they grin. “She can make plants bloom and die and she can talk to animals.” They have seen the vet do stuff like that after all. “And,” they continue, smirking as they look down their nose at the kid (and should they really be feeling so satisfied they can look down on a child?) “my momma can use holy magic.”

“Prove it!” Comes the little terror’s squeaking reply.

They scowl back. “Why, can’t your mama do magic?”

The pout on the child’s face would imply that no, their mother is not, in fact, capable of that.

Four grins. “Oh. Well, that’s okay. Can your mama sing like a bird? Mine can.”

The kid glances up at their mother, who’s deep laughter rings over the restaurant as she continues talking with another woman. He very much doubts the woman sings very sweetly. Oh, she may have a nice voice, but it’s not siren song quality.

“My momma can.” They continue, sitting back on their stool and grinning wider. “She sings like an angel to help us all sleep. And my momma gives the best hugs.” A little boney, to be sure, but the few times the vet has hugged them, usually while acting, it came with the overwhelming weight of his magic settling over them in a protective barrier. That was one of the two reasons they’d so eagerly climbed into his arms during the first ‘Incident’. The second was exhaustion and a migraine, but the magic had helped that too. They’re being honest though. In this group, it’s rare to get a hug from the others. Except Wind, but Wind is a kid and they feel responsibility when hugging him. Legend’s hugs don’t make them feel responsible for someone, they make them feel like it’s okay to not be responsible for a little bit.

“She really does,” Wind pipes up, apparently deciding he’s getting in on this now. “It feels like all scary stuff just melts away when our mom hugs us.”

They’re not sure if they’re imagining the flush on the vet’s face or not as Wind beams at the man. Regardless, though, the vet coughs softly, a silent request for them to leave the situation alone.

As proved in the past, many, many times, they are not good at following orders.

“Our mama makes stuff for us too. She fixes all our broken things and shows us how to do it too, so we can know stuff.”

“And she-” and well, they kind of just wrack their brain for every single thing they can think of that they like about Legend, or things that he can do or has done, and they watch the other kid’s pout turn more and more prominent even as Legend’s face turns progressively more and more red. It’s almost a game, again. Wind is grinning and they’re smiling back, and while there’s a third competitor here, that competitor is clearly losing as the two young heroes go back and forth trying to see who can make the vet flush the darkest with their praises of him.

And maybe, this isn’t exactly what Wars meant about showing Legend their appreciation and thanks, but it’s the thought that counts, right? And maybe the soft little smile the man hides behind his hand means that the vet does appreciate it, even if he’s all flustered by how they express their thanks.

There’s no audience this time, which makes things easier. There’s no crowd of people watching and judging. In the moment, there’s only a mere child to stand against and speak to, but it feels like the best performance they’ve ever given. Well, other than their treachery, but that was all Vio and this one is more Blue and Red.

It’s a pity, they mourn to themselves, that more people aren’t witness to this particular act. That they can’t share the flushing face of their big brother and the pout of the child and the grins on the faces of Wind and themself with all of the others. They think Warriors at the very least would enjoy seeing it. And Hyrule too, Hyrule loves to praise the vet. And Sky, Sky would love nudging Legend with one of those grins as he watches the other hero flush, teasing softly and telling him that it was all true and he shouldn’t get embarrassed, only to earn a kick under the table or some such response from a most likely wordless hero.

The only audience they have, instead, is the mother of the other child, who looks up after a moment, smiling at them and then turning to Legend with something warm and kind. “Somebody’s been making an impression on her little ones,” she compliments, warm and rich and sweet and so kind as the vet starts to look at her. Her smile is bright and even for her size she exudes a sense of warmth and safety as she winks at their vet. “Sounds like you're doing a great job there. Your kids love you very much, don’t they?”

The vet, somehow, flushes deeper, even as Four and Wind make a point of loudly agreeing with her that “yes, she’s the best mom ever!” and “she’s awesome!” even as the vet reaches a hand to rub at the back of his neck in that familiar nervous tick that they all have.

“I try.”

“You’re doing great.” The woman laughs, “Miss?”

The vet starts a bit, and they’re not sure how he somehow pulls a name out on the spot, but he did that for them too. “Kit.”

“You’re doing great, Kit,” the other mother praises, winking, and then turns back to her own child and reminds him to turn around and eat his meal.

Their own meal arrives shortly after, but Legend’s face is so busy hiding in his hands, ears burning red, that he doesn’t seem to notice until the younger heroes are very nearly through with their food.

He denies it all later. Won’t talk about it, won’t hear a word about being “touched” except to roll his eyes and call them touched in the head, all while another flush settles over him at the mere thought.

When Warriors asks how it went though, they tell him. They may or may not take especial pleasure in recounting the compliments and the flushing and the “other mom’s” encouragement, but it draws another of those real smiles to the captain’s face, earns some rich laughter and trembling shoulders as blue eyes lift for the first time in forever to settle on the figure of their vet, sitting across the room and working over his sword.

When they glance back though, following the captain's gaze, they’re greeted with the sight of Legend smiling softly to himself, flushed, but they can tell somehow that he’s pleased.

All in all, they’d call their mission successful.

And on Mother’s Day of all days too. Even Warriors can’t deny the humor of that.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #the violet incident #lu legend #lu warriors #lu wind #lu four #four and wind like to make prolems #and solve them #but you can't make an omlet without breaking a few legs #er- eggs #right?#yeah #ketto writes #linked universe fanfic

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attorneys-against-court-violence · 1 year

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('▽') Happy Autism Awareness Month!

I'm honestly floored I managed to keep this shtick going long enough to celebrate the occasion... even if it is in a fairly odd and obscure way. Nevertheless, good tidings to all, be you autistic or just supportive!

Since this page has a gimmick that I am more than happy to fulfil (and we happen to be in an all too befitting time to do so), allow me the chance to gush about something that has kept the Ace Attorney series and Athena Cykes specifically so thoroughly lodged in my brain.

So, the idea that Athena Cykes is an autistic-coded character is nothing new - it's a popular-enough sentiment in the fandom from what I can gather - but it's one that produced enough interest in me to start an entire page dedicated to collecting thoughts and ideas around this character and any adjacent content. Naturally I have to stop and talk about it for a while, and why it's important enough to me to warrant such a reaction.

Let's start off by setting the groundwork, shall we? Why exactly do I think this? "Evidence is everything" after all!

Buckle your knuckles, there's PLENTY of it to go around!

('◡') Disclaimer: I am about to compare traits of a real-world disability to a fictional character that may or may not have been written as such with any intent or comprehension. In fact...

(°o°) I'm not entirely sure if it WAS intentional or just a consequence of Ace Attorney being a larger-than-life series!

(≻⁓≺) I am liable to make mistakes here!

('◡') So give me a nudge if you think something's off or if I missed an important detail!

Exhibit A - Sensory Processing Issues

Athena Cykes' main "gimmick" in Ace Attorney is a heightened sense of hearing. She is highly sensitive to tone of voice and has better than average hearing overall. It also means loud or grating noises are amplified to the point of being painful to hear(as with opening the door to Tenma Taro's Chamber below).

This trait is often a blessing and a curse for her; it enables her to do things that most of the cast can't, but also proves distressing in cases where noise becomes too much to bear. See Sahdmadhi turning her hearing against her in Turnabout Storyteller.

(⳻_⳺) Dick move by the way!

Abnormal sensory processing - especially hyper-sensitivity - is a symptom of autism likely caused by altered/excessive connections in the brain, effectively over-tuning your ability to process stimuli. A good example of this in reality is being sensitive to the texture of clothes or food, or being more strongly affected by loud noises (similar to Athena here). As with Athena, it can be advantageous, but is more often than not an impairment to our ability to function in everyday life.

Which handily leads us to why this is problem for both the character and anyone with sensory processing issues...

Exhibit B - Overstimulation

Athena was often overwhelmed by her hearing as a child (and even occasionally as an adult, though with a less severe reaction), usually resulting in her breaking down and crying from the abundance of auditory stimulation. She couldn't be in crowds or even attend school for too long without it affecting her. That point especially I'm sure is relatable to most of us with ASD!

She doesn't have the same loud meltdowns in adulthood, and the trauma of UR-1 makes her breakdowns just as understandable without being autistic (though any emotional processing issues wouldn't help!). Regardless, it was a significant enough problem in her childhood to stifle her social development and attendance in education, resulting in a fairly sheltered lifestyle in Metis Cykes' care.

Speaking of Metis, two of her inventions were made with the intent of helping Athena cope with her atypical traits. The first being a set of noise-cancelling headphones that helped dampen the emotional noise her abnormal hearing picked up involuntarily. Granted, it wasn't perfect, but an honest effort was made to help! The other we'll get to in:

Exhibit C - Social Impairment (Withdrawn Behaviour, Emotional Processing etc)

Athena was incredibly quiet and withdrawn as a child, and wasn't good at talking to others when she did speak. She isn't incapable of affection, but it's largely non-verbal. Her mother created and gave her Widget as a way of broadcasting her thoughts & simplifying "emotional noise" to better explain herself to others. As it reflects her thoughts, with most things Widget says being somewhat childish (calling Gaspen Payne an "arrogant jerk" and being generally immature), it can be assumed Athena's thoughts are roughly as mature. Not that her actions are any less so - she often behaves that way as well! We can give her some leverage, being 18-19 in the games she's appeared in, but autistic people tend to have a reputation for acting childish or having childish interests.

This also means we tend to be infantilised by others.

Athena's not much different: see the cop that badgered her over looking like a highschooler and not letting that initial impression go, despite being shown her badge.

Her being 18 and reactionary responses to this obviously weren't helping her image, though it's fair to say we're supposed to be on her side on this.

(The subsequent tossing of said cop I've already discussed, albeit in an older post, and it's not terribly relevant to this one. Onwards and upwards then!)

When she became more extroverted, she shows herself as incredibly transparent in terms of her emotions, often having trouble masking her feelings. Body language is large and loud (this IS Ace Attorney though, everyone's a little obnoxious!) with the closest match in intensity being Bobby Fulbright. Who is perhaps the loudest and most emotional character in the series.

ASD is defined as a developmental and social impairment. People with it are often known for being quiet or otherwise not particularly sociable. It also means we have problems communicating ourselves to others - either due to missing social cues, not picking up on things that aren't explicitly stated, or simply not being able to word ideas in a way that makes sense to others. This also creates problems with emotional processing. It isn't the same for everyone, but in my experience it can be summed up as "your emotions are too big for your body". ie stifled emotional development results in less subtle and more physical displays of one's feelings.

While she has overcome a lot of her shyness and anxiety as an adult, there are plenty of times where she stammers and struggles to get her words out or needs more time to think something over. She often struggles explaining her reasoning for her objections in court even if she's on the right track, that age-old nightmare of having to verbalise your thought-process is a consistent challenge.

Exhibit D - Hyper-fixation/Special Interest

Athena is strongly fixated on analytical psychology, bringing it up at frequency when the opportunity arises. The topic is constantly on her mind and one she's beyond capable of discussing in great detail with little prompting required. It forms the way she views others and the world around her, is her main tool in court, and a framework she often tries to put most things she encounters into.

People with autism get deeply invested in a topic or topics that interest them. More often than not, these topics are something that we can (and will!) gush about for hours on end if allowed to. Unfortunately - due to the next point I'm about to go over - we also tend to get stuck on the subject for long periods of time. Talking about, researching or just thinking about fixations is an enjoyable experience for those on the spectrum. Look at any time Athena Cykes gets to talk psychology and you tell me she isn't enthused every time!

('▽') It's kind of infectious!

But potentially exhausting for anyone who doesn't share the same interests or have enough patience for it. This is why we worry about being annoying about a fixation at times!

Exhibit E - Routine & Repetitive Behaviours

My main evidence here is the Swashbucklers Spectacular - watching it on repeat to the exhaustion of Apollo and staying up late to do so again later that same day. It's an activity she describes as "therapeutic" (which leads to her explaining that animal therapy is a proven type of therapy. When Athena can, Athena will!).

Repetitive or familiar routines/actions are a fairly well-known trait of those with ASD. While it can make them appear monotonous, there's a good chance it's tied to stimulation; since the brain is "over-tuned" to process sensory information, repetitious actions provide controlled & familiar stimuli that isn't likely to bother you. It also means we tend fixate on things that make us happy as mentioned before.

('◡') If anyone relates to listening to just 1 song ad-nauseum, you get what I mean!

(Slight stretch, but her enthusiasm for physical exercise could also fall under this category, as it often involves repetitive motions - think stimming but more rigorous! Running around the courthouse may also be a way of venting excitement/anxiety. Take this with a grain though!)

Exhibit F - Empathy

Had trouble empathising/relating to her mother (though she never made it easy either). Often treated machines like people and thought people could be fixed like machines. A sheltered life on top of a social development impairment handily explains this.

Later, once she became more extroverted, her empathy turns out to have been over-tuned rather than muted. Likely a good reason why she got overstimulated so often, being flooded with people's emotions that, as a child, she did not fully understand.

That said... she does still have trouble telling what's human or not from time-to-time, albeit much less so (despite falling from a box of props, she still mistakes this prop for a human child).

In short, she struggles to relate to other people and humanises non-human objects/machines to an unusual degree. The latter could also be tied to high-empathy; that is, a person with ASD would experience empathy so strongly that it applies to non-human things or animals.

(Admittedly, some of that comes from personal experience; I prefer escorting insects out to killing purely because I don't enjoy the prospect of potentially inflicting great pain trying to kill them quickly and failing. Over-tuned empathetic responses will do that.)

Exhibit G - Masking

An excellent point was raised by @wyrmswears in response to this post. So, in-brief! Athena's perky personality could be a result of masking. It's a term generally used for actions or behaviours taken to "mask" one's personality traits - in this case, to hide behaviours that arise from autism. This is typically done in response to social pressures, as a coping mechanism, or in response to trauma.

Athena feels a great deal of pressure to appear a certain way. We've already covered her conversation with the cop in The Monstrous Turnabout and subsequent events demonstrate that she's very concerned with how she's perceived (heh) by others.

Particularly, she's worried about looking capable and in a way that fits her job as an attorney. This aspect of her character is made apparent and reinforced multiple times early in the game. It also serves to deflect from those anxious thoughts and emotions (though not too well, given her earnestness).

It's worth noting that a focal point of Athena's trauma is not being listened to when she testified to Simon's innocence. As stated earlier, masking isn't just used to hide neurodivergent traits - it can be done for any reason to better fit societal expectations of ones' self. This in mind, I'm happy to concede this as a response to trauma rather than any explicit sign of ASD, even if it fits the interpretation.

Thank you again for calling this to my attention, @wyrmswears!

Exhibit H - Honest to a Fault

We've covered that Athena's emotions are too large for her to hide (on top of Widget's colourful commentary), but characters have noted that she's... very earnest about her thoughts.

On top of the countless examples of Athena speaking her mind, when it isn't exactly the most appropriate time or place, we can safely say she's very likely to just say things as they are.

People with autism tend to have a reputation for being very blunt or literal when speaking with them. Often, this leads to us saying things that are true, but not taken too well by others (though in this case, Dr Crab is a fairly jaded character as it is). Being explicit with your thoughts is something of a mixed bag; bungling a conversation by being too honest isn't a fantastic experience, but it does mean the people who know you know what's on your mind in uncertain terms. With the right people, it can help heaps (and in Athena's case, it can be endearing to the point of going red in the face!).

Being honest to a fault isn't a unique trait by any stretch, though an impairment such as ASD can lead to people not picking up enough social experience to know when to reel it back and approach conversations more tactfully. As with Exhibit G, this is a point that stands with or without this interpretation, though worth bringing up regardless.

Is It Good Representation?

Whew, there's a tricky question if there ever was one. Just keep in mind going forward that what I'm about to say are my own thoughts - you're welcome to disagree or provide evidence of the contrary. It wouldn't be fair if it was just me monologuing at you all day, so let your heart be heard!

Now then, whether I think this is good or not...

Athena is a lot of things in Dual Destinies. She's enthusiastic, but impulsive. She's talented, but fumbles often. She's loud and proud, but is often shut down by her impairment or trauma.

She's put in 7 years of hard work to overcome her shortcomings, but continues to by stifled by them in little (and not so little) ways. More often than not, Apollo and later Phoenix need to be there to support her and spear-head a majority of trials in the game.

I've done my fair share of grumbling about Athena's lack of exposure in what is essentially her story. Case 5-1 helped set the groundwork for her, but didn't set high-hopes for how the character would be utilised and explored going forward. She tends to come across more as the new assistant character rather than a new protagonist or defence-lawyer, and that largely comes down to the fact that she needs so much support to keep afloat. This doesn't change too much in Spirit of Justice, where she's allowed her own solo trial but still had Blackquill step into the assistant role for her (I don't plan to talk much about SoJ here... it doesn't do a lot with her that wasn't covered in DD, save for the confidence boost).

Oddly enough, I'm fine with all that for the most part.

Really, I am!

Let's be fair, she had a lot of developmental issues as a child and had gone through the horror-show that is UR-1 at just 11 years-old. She was emotionally unstable from the start and losing her mother, brother-figure and home in essentially the same day left a gaping wound on an already vulnerable child.

And in 7 years, right at the threshold for adulthood, she has come a LONG way from where she was. Her outgoing personality and empathetic nature have flourished from her continued attempts to break out of her shell. She's picked up on 4 European languages during her time on the continent. Her rigorous study in analytical psychology and law had landed her a career as an attorney at 18! And it all happened because she makes an active effort to overcome her barriers: be it her communication problems or her fear of courtrooms.

But she isn't completely free of it all. She will always be a little confused or will fumble talking to people, and until the end of Dual Destinies, UR-1 continues to have a profound effect on her ability to perform as an attorney.

Let me make this point as clear as I can. Athena Cykes doesn't have constant support from others because she's untalented or stupid. She has support because she needs it.

And that's fine.

That's Cool, but Why Does This Matter?

The reason all this matters to me is that, as an autistic person myself, it's important to recognise that you're going to need help. It's not something you just "grow out of" or "get better from" - it's just part of who you are, both the ups and the downs. Accepting it as a facet of yourself, rather than some demon to be conquered, is important if you want to live comfortably with it.

It's going to sound bloody baffling of me to say, but this character and how they could exist as a representation of an autistic person has helped a little with that. Having a character that is talented and intelligent who is enabled to be so under their own power and with the help of others around them... well, it got to me, as I muddled through what has been a troubling few years in adulthood.

Not one to air my dirty laundry out on the world though, so I'll spare you the details!

For now, I'll leave you with my ultimate summation.

('▽') I just think she's neat. <3

#ace attorney #auticykes #athena cykes #thena thoughts #autism #for the record! there should be a reblogged post below listing charities for autism - both good and bad #figured i'd give the good more exposure on my dumb AA page to pair with this rambling essay

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dumplingsfordays · 9 months

Text

evening hours

ok so hihi i'm back and down bad for dainsleif (as usual)

this is just a quick little idea i had while i was in the car so i wrote this down in a google doc and then pasted it here 😭😭

apologies for any spelling/grammar mistakes, this isn't proofread so there may be a lot :/

anyways thank you for reading and have an amazing day <3

source for the art (i couldn't find the initial artist, i'm sorry) : @abimanyuputro on pinterest

warning! if you're uncomfortable with any of these topics, please don't read : cuteness to angst to comfort, implied overworking from reader but not really specified

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mood :

Lavoe - kept crystal castles but its only piano (link to spotify)

daniel.mp3 - 3am walk - slowed & reverbed version (link to spotify)

lil indo - the beach (instrumental/slowed/muffled) (link to spotify)

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The first time you saw him, you were intrigued.

He had a mysterious air about him, emphasized by that starry cloak of his that he never seemed to take off. Delicate blonde hair, outlining his features with smooth strands, poured like a golden waterfall from the top of his head, and his cyan eyes were sharp and cold, but you could sense a sort of sadness hidden deep in them whenever you made eye contact. This wasn't a Mondstadter, you knew that for sure. He didn't look like he was from any other region in Teyvat, too - you could only assume that maybe this gentleman had a very unique taste in clothing and was simply blessed with inhumane beauty. You didn't think that he'd keep visiting your café, though.

The second time you saw him, you were curious.

Curious about his mask that covered only half of his face. Curious about his clothing, his mannerisms, his reticent politeness. Curious about why he was here in Mondstadt at all, and for what reason he seemed to be staying here. His face was a blank, white dot in the crowd of regulars you'd see each day, an enigma, and this fact made you wonder. Where did he come from? Why was he so reserved? And, arguably most importantly - who was he, really?

The third time you saw him, you were friendly.

You struck up conversation about the gorgeous weather outside when you brought him his coffee. Of course, he agreed, saying that it was a perfect time to go for a walk in the Whispering Woods, where the overarching trees provided the perfect amount of shade from the sun, and your quick talk ended there. He thanked you with that same quiet civility before you left his table, but this time, it was accompanied by a barely noticeable smile dancing on his fair lips.

The fourth time you saw him, you were open.

Your conversations were getting longer and longer as the days went by. His previously guarded-off persona was crumbling, and it seemed that he was getting more comfortable talking to you (and maybe even simply being around you). His eyes grew softer when you approached, his tense hands relaxed. You liked this new version of him - a version that he seemed to be hiding from you before he knew you meant no harm, a version that finally felt like it could be honest with you. He would be welcome in the café after closing hours, and you would enjoy simply talking to each other over some tea and muffins about the various aspects of your lives. At times, these conversations would get deep, philosophical - you talked about the meaning of life, about fate. He seemed interested in these topics, to your relief. You never really had a person that you could talk to about this, as they either always changed the subject to something a little more "real", or ignored you altogether, but this man was different. You felt like he was an old friend despite never knowing his name.

The fifth time you saw him, you were a mess.

Everything in your life seemed overwhelming, endlessly crushing at this point. You closed the café early today in an attempt to have extra time to pour your emotions out through some good ole crying, but you forgot about the man, still sitting at a table, book in hand. When you didn't come to him after the clock struck 8:15 (the usual time you'd come over after putting all the cups to soak), he looked over at the counter. You weren't there.

He assumed that you had more duties to attend to, and kept reading, keeping one eye the counter while he was doing so. In fact, instead of being in the storage room, whose entrance was past the counter, you were leaning against it, trying desperately to not cry too loudly. Your hot tears stung as they rolled down your cheeks, but you didn't dare move to wipe them away. You didn't want him to see you in this sorry state.

Unluckily for you, he heard one of your short gasps for air. He immediately set his book down to come over to the counter, and lo and behold, you looked up at him, cheeks and nose reddened as he peered over the wooden surface in worry.

"Can I come behind the counter?" he asked in genuine concern, a tone which you had never heard him speak with.

You nodded, sniffling. You must look absolutely pathetic to him right now.

He walked with urgency to you, and knelt across from you on the floor. He took your hands in his as his cyan eyes met your bloodshot ones.

"Are you okay?"

At these soft-spoken words, the dam broke. Tears poured from your eyes like crystal-clear rivers, and you pulled your hands away from his to bury your face in them. You shuddered as you desperately tried to catch quick breaths of air, gasping, eyes screwed shut.

"Hey, hey," he muttered, trying his best to be reassuring. You felt his (rather large) hands cup your face, carefully pulling it upwards. His thumbs wiped away your still-running tears with gentle care.

"Shh. Breathe, just breathe. That's it."

In between sniffles and ragged breaths, you explained why you were in such a state. You were reluctant to tell him - after all, you didn't want him to think ill of you (or worse, to bear yet another burden on his shoulders. He was probably carrying a lot as it was, and you felt like it was unfair that he should carry your problems with him, too).

"I'm- I'm sorry," you said hoarsely. "For this whole thing. I should've just-"

"No. You shouldn't apologize, not for this," he reassured, "but thank you for being honest."

You nodded, blinking away the last of your tears.

"Please tell me if you need anything."

You chuckled, albeit pitifully. "Yeah, if you know how to magically erase all of my problems with a fairy wand or something."

"I'm being serious, y/n," he warned, but his lips betrayed him - their corners quirked up into a small smile.

"I'll be fine," you sniffed one last time, before standing up, at which he stood up with you. "I'll be okay."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I am. I think, at least."

"Alright then."

He walked back to the table on which his book lay, and after retrieving it, he headed towards the door. Before he exited, however, he stole one last glance towards you, and cleared his throat.

"You'll tell me though, right?"

"About what?" you asked as you watered some plants on a windowsill.

"If you need anything."

You turned to face him, and your eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, you really meant that?"

"Of course."

"Well... I am rather short on Mora."

A glare from the man made you freeze, and then you threw up your hands like you were at gunpoint (because you pretty much were at that point).

"Just kidding!" you laughed awkwardly, and in response, his gaze softened. "But no, there's nothing. I think all that crying cleared my head up a little bit, though. Thank you, truly."

He nodded, another smile gracing his elegant features, and walked out into the cold night air.

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#genshin imagines #writeblr #genshin x reader #dainsleif #dainsleif x reader #dainsleif x you #genshin dainsleif #i am literally so down bad for him omg #dain <33 #dainsleif x y/n #dainsleif genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #fanfic #dainsleif imagines

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alexiela73 · 1 year

Note

Hi I'm sorry for asking for another request- please feel free to ignore me if it's a bit too much >_< Especially because I also vent a little in this ask. I will not take it personally if you decide not to do this ask, especially since you've already taken a request from me! So please do feel free to ignore, especially if it's better for your mental. The last thing I want to do is to cause more harm.

Anyway, I just find a lot of comfort in Hanzo q_q this is the same anon who asked for the autistic/mentally ill s/o qwq

2023 hasn't really been all too good for me so far even though it's just been 3 days, and 2022 ended on a really, really bad note

// TW for slight venting, because I'm going to share a little bit about what I'd need comfort for I guess >_<

I have abusive parents, they no longer physically abuse me (although I still have some scars), and I am constantly verbally abused everyday. It has really impacted my mental and emotional state

Recently I was told that I would be the cause of my mother's death, and all I do is cause everyone's suffering.

I also um... have a lot of trauma regarding touch, but I think I'd be okay with it if Hanzo held me close because I could focus on him and my anxiety/schizophrenia wouldn't hurt me... too much.

I just want to ask- how do you think Hanzo would comfort me especially after hearing all about this...? I don't know, I'm just kinda desperate at this point q_q

Thank you for your time and please have a good day qwq

I'm so sorry you are having a rough time. If you ever need to rant, just get it out to a stranger, just feel free to message me. If nothing else, sometimes its nice to feel heard. And don't worry about sending more requests, send as many as you'd like.

Hanzo Comfort Headcanon

After the way his life had started and the mistakes he had made, it had taken a long time for Hanzo to finally come to one conclusion: he would never hurt anyone he loved again

This one thought has become ingrained into him

Falling in love with you to him is one of the greatest gifts life could have bestowed upon him

After his clan and everything that happened with Genji, he didn't think he'd ever feel this kind of peace or happiness

To know that in a way, like him, you are enduring the burden of a family who causes you nothing but pain wounds him

He has seen first hand the kind of damage its done to you

The first time he met your family, Hanzo had held back out of respect to you- this was your family, and at first he felt it wasn't his place to speak up. After all, perhaps he misunderstood

Now Hanzo goes with you whenever you have to see your family- if you truly insist on seeing them, that is. While Hanzo's goal is not to upset you further, he has no problem getting curt with them or telling them to back off.

Hanzo would see the messages between you and your family though- not due to snooping, but when you were upset you'd often drop your phone and go seclude yourself

During moments like these, when you would cry in the tub or try to hide in another part of the house, Hanzo would seek you out

Comforting someone is not something that comes easily to him. but Hanzo decides to go with his instinct with you

Usually he will sit next to you, not quite touching and ask if he can hold your hand. If not, Hanzo will respect that and sit beside you, usually humming a japansese lullaby

If he gets permission, he will cradle your hand between his, thumb gently circling your knuckles

If a hug is something that you will allow, then Hanzo will pull you into his arms and gently stroke your hair

Everything is at your pace

Hanzo has never been upset by this- he was blessed when you came into his lonely world, and he will forever be grateful for that

Though Hanzo himself said he'd never do it, he does gently inquire about counseling or seeking someone to speak to

Hanzo says he'll even go and talk about his...problems, if you will

With Genji's recommendation, you two do go spend weekends at the monastery in Nepal. Its actually quite peaceful, though it takes awhile for Hanzo to stop scoffing at it

Other little things he does for you is make sure you always have cupboards of comfort food- if baking is it, then he takes it upon himself to bake for you every week

Hanzo also lets you use his dragons like emotional support animals, letting you maul, squish and hug them as much as you need. Luckily, they don't seem to mind

#Hanzo Comfort Headcanon #Hanzo #Hanzo Shimada #Hanzo x Reader #Hanzo Shimada x Reader #Hanzo Overwatch #Overwatch Headcanon #Hanzo Headcanon #Overwatch

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diabollicallyangelic · 3 months

Text

Here it is! My completed list of Lovejoy quotes that stuck to me :]

ARE YOU ALRIGHT?

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[Taunt]

[One Day]

"And time and time I play the empath, I don't know why"

"Oh baby, isn't life so fucking inconsistent."

[Sex Sells]

"So will you do what's easy? Or will you do what's right?"

"How's it feel to be so loved yet so alone?"

[Cause For Concern]

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PEBBLE BRAIN

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[Oh yeah, You gonna cry?]

[Model Buses]

[Concrete]

"All this, over a kiss."

"You know it's always the same, it's all just a game."

"How can you look at yourself in the windowpane without wanting to hit yourself."

[Perfume]

"Left your heart on standby"

"It seems like all our friends abruptly fell in love."

"So she learnt to lie, she learnt how to pretend."

"Why can't you be a dick? Why must you be so nice? It's hard for me to move on when I don't really hate you."

[You'll Understand When You're Older]

[The Fall]

"I look to all of you and see a different fucking species"

[It's All Futile! It's All Pointless!]

"I lost the passions that comes with living."

"I don't miss you. I miss the thought of what we were."

"Cause this is the part where I shut up, and let you infest my brain."

"You'll never get rid of me. Oh, I'm like a fucking disease."

"And what was your thoughts when you realized you'd never feel naive love again? Was it pain or was it sickness? Were you proud of who you'd been?"

"You held his hand, it felt like flying. Now he's just another man."

"It's okay, anything to make me feel less numb."

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WAKE UP & ITS OVER

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[Portrait of a Blank Slate]

"I feel at some point I broke my mind. I'm always searching, the silent type."

"How do you all make it look so easy? You open your hearts up so quickly, it scares me."

[Call Me What You Like.]

"You can call me what you like, as long as you call me."

"And you could kiss the skin from my lips if it makes you feel good."

"Just place your bets on who's lost their minds"

"I'm not made for you, but what else is new?"

"This just in; I am a total fucking dumbass."

"I'll be spending the rest of my life in a state of constant paranoia."

"And I'll proceed to bang my head on every doorway and doorframe you seem suitable for us to go through."

"I'm not paranoid, I'm a realist."

[Consequences]

"Do you ever feel like you fell off, for about a year?"

"Cause I haven't slept in about a week, I stay up thinking I will die."

"I wish I tried more, wish I tried more, wish I tried."

"Whats this? The consequences of my actions now?"

[Warsaw]

"She's broken up with him inside her head. She's just waiting for the moment, the precious moment, to let him know."

"I hate to say I told you, but your habits wreck your head."

"You can try and try but you're just a cog in a machine."

"Apathy comforts me like a cell comforts an inmate."

"It won't get better, I assure you. Make no mistake, we're all going to end up in the dirt."

[Scum]

"I feel I've reached the end before I've reached death"

"I'm scum, I'm waist, I'm what you want."

[It's Golden Hour Somewhere]

"Is this what it's worth?"

"They'll tell you this is normal. They'll tell you this is love."

"They'll sell you the rope by which you'll hang yourself."

"I'm not sure if the stuff I want is even worth the price it costs."

"So tell me, is it normal, To totally lose your mind? I won't announce my sheer descent but holy FUCK there will be signs."

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[Knee Deep at ATP]

"They say, it's not what you like it's what you're like as a person."

"Well I need new hobbies, that's one thing for certain."

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[Normal People Things]

"Oh, what a blessing to meet someone like you. With eyes as dead as mine, it's fine."

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#lovejoy #wilbur soot #pebble brain #are you alright?#wake up & its over

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sansxfuckyou · 1 year

Text

A poet without his words

(@sobredunia, your fanart spurred me on to actually put this idea onto paper, so know that you're responsible for this depiction of cruel gods, homosexual websites and a little bit of gore, and I have put world building into this fucker, I'm begging you to ask me about the worldbuilding please. Also, @godmodebeginswithlesbians and @max-the-hecker, it wouldn't feel right if I didn't subject you two to my insanity as well, and choosing Tumblrs sibling was way harder than it should've been, I have never stuffed so many shisty references into one fic)

"Twitter, don't go," Tumblr pleaded to his love as he tried to stand, only making eye contact with now cold eyes, once warm, those beautiful wings resting at the hip and ears closed up.

"Tumblr, what good will a poet be without any words," Twitter ushered softly as he turned from his partner, shoes clicking gently on marbled floor, his phrase sounded like a question, but Tumblr couldn't answer.

Yahooo stood tall above Tumblr, a blade in her hand, Tumblr knew exactly what was coming as he lay on the ground. His throat was raw, his vocal chords were torn, his tongue, the last thing he used to tell his tales was still perfect. And his mother had heard enough of it, his poems, beautiful with a darker lining upon first glance always rang true as cruel in her ears.

A hand gripped the back of Tumblrs neck, satin gloves soft despite the tight grip as he lifted to be at the height of the godess who took him in and taught him how to weaponize words. He never knew it would be his downfall until he started to cry for mercy, begging his mother to release him, saying he'll change his words, change his ways. Yahoo didn't care, didn't hear any of it as she plunged the holy blade under his tongue, severing veins as she cut it out into naught but a nub.

With a thud Tumblr hit the ground and he spat, a deep purple blood spilling from his lips as his tongue hit the floor in a puddle of violet that turned navy after exposure. He could only stare up at Yahoo who dismissed her holy blade and crouched down beside him as he cried silent tears, they slid down his face. She held his chin in her hands as she brought him to make eye contact, a soft smile graced her expression as that same purple blood continue to drip past Tumblrs lips, slowed now as his tongue healed over.

"Don't worry, it'll regrow, and next time, you won't make the same mistake twice," Yahoo said gently as she looked at her son, helping him up, as navy blood hit his purest of white dress shirts, it stained as red and never since washed out, "you are the closest I'll have to an heir, a useless one at that."

Tumblr only nodded in response, wiping tears from his face as he held his mothers hand, she led him away from the stained marble, away from the feathers Twitter left. He washed himself after his mother handed him a deep navy suit that matched his eyes, the water he bathed in smelt deeply of lavender with hints of ginger. A combination of smells that has soothed his frayed nerves since he was child, since he first found Twitter in a lavender patch and had a meal rich in ginger and onions with the demigods father Chrome.

Years passed as they stayed friends, turning to lovers even as Tumblrs twin 4chan said not trust him. When Tumblrs soon to be born demigod sister, MySpace, ended up naught but a loss and Yahoos mortal stood at her side while mourning the death of an unborn child, Twitter stood by Tumblr. For weeks as Tumblr mourned without 4chan, Twitter stood by his side and they kept each other uplifted through the pain of it all.

Happy memories couldn't last forever though, and that Tumblr was made aware of during a simple game of dodge ball with the rest of the demigods. He wasn't a demigod himself, but Yahoo gave him her blessing and took him from his deceased mortal parents to give him a better life, a poet to tell tales, but he played games instead. He played all sorts of game with his demigod twin 4chan, but he loved dodge ball the most of them all, he never stopped dodging and he was always the last one standing.

He caught the red orb flying at his face, and a vision washed over him like his mothers friend, Apollo said it might when he touched the forbidden object. Who in the fuck makes a dodge ball the forbidden object? He dropped it and made haste off the playing field into the forests he knew better than anyone else, and Twitter followed him, struck by worry. Questions were asked when he found Tumblr, crying, the t shaped pin in his hair coming loose a bit as he let out shaky sobs for answers, refusing to tell Twitter what he saw no matter how often he asked until now.

Until the prophecy came true.

Tumblr slowly pulled on his suit, fabric soft against skin and tie tight around his neck as he made his way back out to the dining hall where Yahoo, her mortal and her blinded son 4chan ate. Tumblr sat beside 4chan and started to eat, everything he ate was fire against the torn and ruined flesh of his tongue, but he still ate. After dinner, full of near silent whimpers of pain from Tumblr as Yahoo and the mortal conversed, 4chan confronted Tumblr, his blind state doing little to prevent seeing the pain.

But Tumblr couldn't answer in anyway that 4chan could respond to without his voice or his eyes. So Tumblr whined, guttural noises escaped his torn vocal chords and 4chan shushed him as Tumblr shook with agony.

In a years time Tumblr could speak again, he didn't like to speak though, as his tales came out worse then before. He opened his mouth to speak and all that came out was weaponizing stunned wasps and Papyrus haiku, nobody liked him anymore. He didn't play games with the demigods, he only sat in silent torture with 4chan, his only friend and sibling. They watched the news together, well, 4chan listened, and when they saw in their pondering orb that it was almost time for Twitter to ascend under the assistance of a rich immortal they flipped. Tumblr did actually, 4chan was unfazed, heavily aware of the fact that Twitter would ascend, given how powerful Twitters father was.

"That traitorous asshole! I'll strangle him to death with scrolls chronicling destiels journey! I'll drown him in a gallon of sweet tea and start world war tea!" Tumblr shouted jumping up from the beanbag the two sat on, his suit nearly tore at the seams due to being worn brittle through anger management sparring, because of said sparring he had to get a manscaped prosthetic, his forked tongue slid between his cuspids.

When he realized his outburst he rapidly brought hands up to cover his mouth, maybe that was what Yahoo meant, about not making the same mistake. He only ever had vulgar things to say, which was what ruined her reputation, so why would she want him to be able to speak at all anymore? He sunk back down to the beanbag, pushing against 4chan, who was a lot taller than him due to godly genetics running through his body, he patted down Tumblrs long hair that was held in a bun at the moment. The t shaped clip hadn't come out of his hair in years, it was stained and had a dint, but it was his trademark, his calling card if you will.

Then Yahoo came downstairs, Tumblr lived in the basement with 4chan, they had separate rooms, barely, their mother was overjoyed, she looked full of energy for the first time in forever. Her dress, as always, a deep purple, silk and full of folds, it trailed behind her giantess form, even fully grown Tumblr barely stood at her waist, although he was only five foot five. Her smile looked almost drunk as her hair, tied in a long braid, was flung over her shoulder.

"Tumblr! 4chan! Did you hear the good news?" Yahoo asked as she tried to regain her composure, Tumblr and 4chan both stood, 4chan an entire one and half feet taller than Tumblr, who often wore boots with thick soles to make up for lack of height.

"Depends on the good news, mother dearest," 4chan said, reaching up to scratch at where his bloodied gauze was, his eyes never stopped bleeding that purple to green to red after Yahoo gouged them out to make sure he would never see horrible things again.

"Twitter is going to ascend with a rich immortal to guide him," Yahoo said, Tumblrs entire body tensed and he gritted his teeth, Yahoo noticed and picked him up by the scruff of his suit and he hissed at her, "you need to let it go."

"Make me," Tumblr spat before Yahoo dropped him, 4chan breaking his fall before they both hit the ground.

"You two really need to get dressed for the occasion, you look like rats, not the cute ones Tumblr got for his fortieth birthday, he's lucky he has my blessing," Yahoo said as she turned to leave, her blessing being eternal youth, and with that, his mentality hasn't since aged a day past sixteen, when the blessing was put on him, Yahoo leaned back to glare at Tumblr, "and you both have to come."

"Well shit," was what Tumblr said, mind blank, 4chan was already on the move searching for his best scuzzy little fuck varsity jacket full of tears and covered in patches, he only wore it with sweatpants or ripped jeans, tonight was a ripped jeans night, "any outfit ideas."

"Remember your first poem, about the man of greed who wore all green?" 4chan asked, Tumblrs eyes widened, oh, oh that poem, he laughs in embarrassment whenever he reads it, he even made an outfit for it.

"Of course I remember the first and most twinkalicious twink of them all," Tumblr said, he wished he could mince words the way he once could, 4chan grinned at the phrasing.

"Wear that outfit or the skeleton of many names," 4chan suggested, and Tumblrs shudder was audible, "I'm yanking ya, just wear the green jacket for it, the one with tails, and some skanky dress underneath."

"4chan, I may be a whore sometimes, but like hell I'll get that dressed up for Twitters ascension," Tumblr said, gesturing vaguely with his arms as he unbuttoned his suits jacket and started looking for his relatively less skanky dress, "but it has been a while since I busted out old faithful."

"Exactly, now get to it bro, we'll wow them with our impossibly shitty fashion sense," 4chan said as he slid his varsity jacket over top his pepe the frog shirt, he was already wearing jeans, he threw Tumblr what he assumed was the right dress.

And it was, Tumblrs face heated up as he left to put it on, rushing to slide out of once luxurious cotton that now chafed. Sliding on the dress itself was easy, he made it himself after all, and he knew how to get around awkward stitches and cuts. A slit on the left rode up his thigh, stopping mere inches from the braided belt around his waist, the fabric on his chest loose, one layer underneath, he assumed it was based off of a binders basic idea. The layer underneath was white and could be seen through the somewhat thin silk of the dress, the skirt part was opaque but faded out from a navy blue, to a purplish orange tone and finally into a deep black with sparkles of effervescent stars.

He groaned as he looked at himself in the mirror before taking his hair out of its bun, a deep navy tone with a few darker strips that teased to be sky black. Then he started grip bobby pins, stylizing and clipping back bits until he looked a lot more like an actual demigod than a mortal with a blessing. The t shaped clip stayed as he added the faintest amount of that deep navy to his eyes, they matched his pupils beautifully. When he returned he found 4chan holding up that old Onceler coat, the Truffula tree pin still in place, and the wet beast fur cleaned off by 4chan who was smirking.

"Asshat, hand it over, I'm ready to twink it up," Tumblr said as he gripped his jacket, pulling it over bare arms, quarter length sleeves felt awkward, leaving him no choice but to reach for the gloves, the feeling made him shudder but seen enough he was good to go, decked out just fine, with his scuzzy older sibling, whose shrimp pin is falling off, Tumblr readjusted it.

And then they waited.

And Yahoo called for them, and they rushed upstairs, their mother giving wary glances at their shitty fashion choices. She gave little more than a shrug of her shoulders before leading them out to the metaphorical chariot. The ride to where Twitter was to ascend was full of silence, 4chan awkwardly scratching at his gauze and Tumblr awkwardly fiddling with the Truffula pin on his suit. When they arrived, Tumblr was already a little bit pissed off and he hadn't even seen Twitter in his modest demigod outfit, looking like a mortal.

Chatting and conversing was held, reunions were had, and at some point 4chan ended up diverging away from Tumblr to make small talk with Reddit. When that happened, Tumblr headed straight for the drink table, he got compliments on his outfit, and one insult on his prosthetic to which he replied with a sharp 'Best shave your balls before I fucking make you'. It ended up directed towards Pinterest who appeared shocked at Tumblrs choice of words even as that forked tongue ran across incisors and lay limp between cuspids.

Tumblr stood idly at the drink table, sipping thoughtfully at a cup of punch until Newgrounds decided to get up in his business. Trying to talk and chat cause they used to be amazing friends before Yahoo cursed Tumblr, they're still friends though. And Tumblr can't help but quirk a brow at almost scenemo getup Newgrounds is rocking, the excessive gold tones make it less than scene or emo though.

"Hey! Great to see ya here man, it's been forever," Newgrounds said, grinning as he reached for a cup to pour himself a cup of punch, ladling the liquid into the cup with ease.

"Yeah," Tumblr said, hoping that if he used little words he wouldn't snap at Newgrounds.

"Sooo, I heard that 4chan got his eyes kinda, popped right on out, is it true?" Newgrounds asked, and Tumblr felt sick, 4chans eyes weren't popped out, he wasn't there to see it happen in real time, instead he found 4chan sobbing purple blood that stained green, but after training under Apollo, the past was his to see, and 4chans eyes were for a fact gouged out brutally, maybe if they were popped out, then 4chan wouldn't always wear gauze and would stop bleeding as well.

"They got gouged out, brutally, with a cork opener that has remnants of the ocular nerve still attached, the flavor on a fine red wine is, to put in simple terms, quite fucking nice," Tumblr snapped, a hiss to his tone and he slapped his hands over his mouth, he wondered why people even put up with him when he was like this, he wondered what Twitter would've done if he was around to see Tumblr like this.

The expression on Newgrounds face was almost shocked at the tone and choice of words, but he knew that Tumblr had gotten fucked up and couldn't control it. So instead of freaking out and scoffing and leaving Tumblr alone, he just took a little bit longer to respond than he used to.

"Oh, right, damn, it's just been a while since I last saw him, that's all, sorry man," Newgrounds said, placing a gloved hand on Tumblrs shoulder, the latter of the two easing completely.

"Naw, its cool, 4chan is still sensitive on the topic though," Tumblr said, leaning against the table slowly, brushing down the front of his jacket, his dress was chafing at his waist due to the jacket over top of it, but he ignored that.

The murmurs of the crowds silenced and the lights above dimmed, drawing everyones attention to where Twitter stood on a small elevated piece of ground. Gods he looked just as beautiful as the day Tumblr met him, freckles, brown hair, those pairs of wings just as well kept as the day he left. Tumblrs chest constricted, but he ignored as he watched the rich immortal walked up to Twitter alongside Chrome, the proud father of the demigod who was grinning.

"Today, we welcome Twitter into godhood," Chrome said as the immortal held up a necklace, a pendant on it that seemed to writhe, but Tumblr wasn't sure as he hadn't gotten his eyes checked to see if his eyesight was fine, he was human after all, "Musk, the necklace."

"Gladly," the immortal spoke before Twitter leaned down, the necklace resting over his perfect collarbones and chains glistening.

And then, the pendant started to dig itself into Twitters skin, nobody was shocked at this turn, except for Tumblr. Tumblr had never seen an ascension, 4chan had, he saw Youtubes ascension, and Newgrounds saw Facebooks ascension. Although Facebook got booted from godhood recently for reasons she didn't understand, she still showed up though.

As Tumblr watched in horror as Twitter started to shake, collapsing to the ground, poison running through his veins, all of the gods and demigods unfazed. As he cried out, he realized that he wasn't cut out for this, and because of that, he would have to undergo a much worse method of ascension. The immortal got a nod from Chrome before placing the cuffs on Twitters wrists, and Tumblr was bolting, but he slowed when gazes came to him.

And then Twitter spoke, pleaded.

"Help me Tumblr, please," Twitter begged, his ears full of tears and no other god could turn him down when he had that look, except for Internet Explorer and occasionally Safari.

"Tell me this Twitter, when I was on the ground, begging for you to help me, did you save me from losing my tongue?" Tumblr asked, purposefully letting his fork tongue stay lilting from between his lips, a deep navy tone on them due to the lipstick he always wore.

He only got a shaking sob from Twitter as pain wracked his body and a vigorous pain laden shake of his head. He tried to stand, to meet Tumblrs eyes, but he couldn't manage anything more than forearm support.

"Please, I'll gift you a thousand realms, I'll bring you to godhood with me, I'll give you anything," Twitter begged, he was leaning closer and closer to passing out as the poison pulsed faster and faster.

"That depends if you can answer my question," Tumblr said, grinning as he did so, leaning in such a fashion the glint of his prosthetic was caught in the light, a hand gloved in thneed perched at his waist, "do you like the color of the sky?"

Twitter could only give a drunken grin, the first thing Tumblr ever asked him. A hundred years ago it felt when they first met, and Twitter, Twitter still remember the answer.

"Which one?"

A thud and Twitter was done, merely unconscious, but he looked dead despite the unsteady rise of his chest. Chrome lifted his son before handing him to the immortal, for training to become a god and the immortal took him away. The crowd of the party dispersed, leaving Tumblr and 4chan as the last people, Reddit lingered alongside Newgrounds at the drink table, why waste a good drink?

"4chan," Tumblr began as he turned away from the elevated ground where Twitters ascension took place, he got a nod from 4chan as a sign that he heard, "are all ascensions like that?"

"Ask Reddit, he was around for Youtubes ascension," 4chan replied with as they headed to the metaphorical chariot where Yahoo was awaiting them.

Then Tumblr asked a question 4chan didn't expect.

"Do you think Twitter will be okay?"

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