#and second … the fact that the children and parents look alike???

[sab-teraa]

The casting for MOVING is absolutely insane 😮‍💨🤌🏽

#firstly … all actors are AMAZING #and second … the fact that the children and parents look alike??? #they really went off #I can’t wait to start the show #moving #k drama

[shadowtriovibes]

the train ain't even left the station

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: G

Word Count: 2K

Summary: request: "If you're up for it I'd love to see a small lil fic of Sebastian sending his child off to Hogwarts for the very first time! Like maybe Sebastian is telling them about his adventures with Ominis and MC to make the child less nervous or just letting them know how exciting things will be for them :)"

in the same 'verse as "it's a sign of the times" [AO3]

Sebastian sets her down and rests a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Not too good, alright? It’s worth breaking a few rules every now and then to make a friend, or do what’s right.” “Like how you met Uncle Ominis and he showed you the Undercroft?” she says eagerly. A few feet away, you look up sharply from where you’re hugging Simon goodbye. “Did she just say ‘Undercroft?’” “No,” Sebastian and Anne-Marie say in unison.

September 1, 1910

Suspended overhead in the bustling terminal of King’s Cross Station is a massive clock. Every morning, hundreds of thousands of Londoners – both Muggles and wizards alike, though more often the former – pass underneath the clock as they hurry to catch their trains. Many will casually glance up to ensure they’re still on time as they make their way to work, school, or even the lucky few off on holiday.

As it happens, the first day of September brings countless students to the station on their way to boarding schools all over the U.K., meaning the station stays especially crowded well into the late morning. Worried mums and impatient dads all turn their eyes toward that clock, hoping their sprogs won’t be left on the platform on their very first day of school.

Just as the minute hand slides into place at the very bottom of the clock, a handsome young family emerges from a tiny waiting room positioned at the far end of the terminal.

Hundreds of Muggle men in their funny, black suits and odd little bowler hats have already walked right past the waiting room without sparing it a second glance. In fact, had any of them paused to do so, they would have read a small sign affixed to the door that simply read, “Out of Order.”

But inside that waiting room is a grand fireplace. Not just any fireplace, mind you – one that roared brilliantly twenty-four hours a day, never needs stoking, and, perhaps most importantly, spews out bright green flames.

Sebastian Sallow first exits the waiting room with a precarious cart loaded up with trunks, birdcages, and even some broomsticks of all things. If the Muggles passing by thought anything of the man’s rather odd collection of travel items, no one said a word.

He glances up at the clock and grins.

“Ten thirty,” he says confidently over his shoulder. “See? I told you we wouldn’t be late.”

Beside him is his young wife. Their smallest child, a boy just a few months shy of his fifth birthday, is dozing in her arms. Behind them are their oldest children, a pair of twins, chatting excitedly as they follow their parents toward the barricade between platforms nine and ten.

“Doesn’t it seem a bit redundant to Floo all the way down to London just to put the children on a train back to Scotland?” Sebastian mumbles as your family weaves its way through the flowing crowds.

“Perhaps, but all the children love riding the train,” you remind him fondly. “It’s a Hogwarts tradition, especially for the little ones.”

Having never had the chance to take the Hogwarts Express yourself, you find yourself mildly envious of your eldest children, both of whom will soon be taking their very first journey on the school’s scarlet red steamer train.

“Besides,” you add teasingly. “If I recall, you and Anne met Ominis on your first train ride to Hogwarts, correct?”

“Fine, I suppose you’ve got me there,” Sebastian relents with a soft smile. “I rather think this whole journey will have been worth it if the twins happen to make lifelong friends who save their lives several times over.”

“Do we have to?” your son Simon pipes up, sounding wary. “Because I packed a book I wanted to read.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow at you and gives you a look that reads, He is your son through and through.

“Trying to prove you’re a Ravenclaw already, are you?” Sebastian teases him. “Just like your mum, you are.”

“I’m going to be a Slytherin like you, Daddy!” your daughter Anne-Marie chimes in proudly. “Even Auntie Anne said so!”

You and Sebastian exchange a fond, albeit exasperated look. Ever since Anne (and eventually Sebastian) had accepted the life-limiting curse placed upon her by Rookwood, she’d instead focused on honing types of magic that don’t drain her of her energy or cause her any more pain. She’d found comfort in Divination and has grown into a very powerful Seer, though she often uses her gift to rile up your children with premonitions of being spoiled rotten on their birthday or soundly beating the other village children in their broomstick races.

However, predicting that your mischievous little girl will end up in Slytherin is a fairly safe bet, you imagine.

“I won’t be the least bit surprised if that’s true,” Sebastian says warmly. “But just know your mother and I will love you all the same no matter which house you end up in.”

“Even Hufflepuff?” Simon asks nervously. “Ernest from the village says Hufflepuffs are boring.”

“Don’t forget your Auntie Poppy is a Hufflepuff,” you tease him. “She’s anything but boring!”

That seems to cheer Simon up a bit, but your sweet, slightly shy boy falls back beside you as you get closer to the platform barricade.

“Alright, my love?” you ask him softly.

He reaches for your free hand and squirms up tightly against your side. “It’s really big…”

You size up the high brick archway before you. To the naked eye, it appears as solid as rock, and despite Sebastian’s reassurances that it’s perfectly safe to run straight at it, you imagine you’d be intimidated as well if you were only eleven years old.

“Don’t worry, darling,” you reassure him. “Your father and I will come with you to the platform, you won’t have to go through alone.”

He nods wordlessly and you squeeze his hand. Ever her father’s girl, Anne-Marie takes Sebastian’s arm and the two of them push the wobbly luggage cart straight at the archway, and in the blink of an eye, they’ve vanished.

“See?” you murmur to Simon. “Not so scary, is it?”

With your youngest still propped against your hip, you and Simon walk toward the barricade at a slower pace. You glance around to make sure no Muggles are watching as you slip through the magical brick facade, and then in the blink of an eye you’re on a pack platform surrounded by wizarding families and children in bright, colorful robes.

“Over here!” Sebastian calls out, and you see that he’s pulled the cart right up to the train.

“Help each other with your trunks, just like that,” Sebastian says as Simon and Anne-Marie first carry the trunk marked with an “S.S.” aboard the carriage and then return for the other marked with an “A.M.S.”

Then they carry in their owls – both young tawny birds raised from hatchlings, a gift from their Aunt Poppy. Finally, they return for their brooms, which Sebastian knows for a fact they ought not to have as first years, but he hopes he can talk Headmaster Weasley into looking the other way once they arrive with the intent of trying out for their house Quidditch teams.

(Raising your children in a wizarding village had been quite an eye-opening experience for you. Your twins have been on broomsticks since they could walk, and over the years their godfather Ominis has insisted on making sure they always have the latest model – one for each, so they won’t squabble over sharing.)

You pull Anne-Marie in for a tight hug once the children finish unloading their cart.

“You’ve got everything you need?” you ask her, pretending your voice hasn’t gone thick with tears. “I’ve packed you both some sweets for the ride, remember to share with your new friends, and write to us as soon as you get back to your dormitories please–”

“Yes, Mum,” she says, somewhat impatiently. “We promise we will.”

Anne-Marie kisses her littlest brother goodbye on his chubby cheek, fondly brushing back some of those messy brown curls your husband had given him.

“Why don’t you let your father give you a hug goodbye, sweetheart?” you gently prompt her.

You expect you’re the only one who’s noticed that Sebastian’s eyes have gotten a bit wet as he’d watched his children load up their belongings on the train. Even though he’d likely try to deny it if you prodded him, he sincerely looks like he could use a hug.

As soon as Anne-Marie approaches him with her arms out, Sebastian scoops her up against his chest like he’d often done when she was much smaller – only now her legs nearly touch the floor, and soon he’ll only be able to sway her like this with her feet firmly planted on the ground.

“Have a great term, sweetheart,” he tells her softly. “I can’t wait to hear all about it – even the parts that’ll exasperate your mother.”

“I promise I’ll be good,” she says ruefully.

Sebastian sets her down and rests a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Not too good, alright? It’s worth breaking a few rules every now and then to make a friend, or do what’s right.”

“Like how you met Uncle Ominis and he showed you the Undercroft?” she says eagerly.

A few feet away, you look up sharply from where you’re hugging Simon goodbye. “Did she just say ‘Undercroft?’”

“No,” Sebastian and Anne-Marie say in unison.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously and decide to leave it be for now, but as soon as you turn away, Sebastian leans down and whispers, “Write to Uncle Ominis and ask him where to find it. It’s a Sallow’s rite of passage.”

“I will,” she says excitedly. “And I’ll bring Simon.”

“Good girl,” he says proudly.

Anne-Marie manages to free Simon from your weepy grasp so that Sebastian can also pull him in for one last hug, reassuring his son he’ll be proud of him no matter which house he eventually calls home. Then the two link arms as they make their way toward the train, climbing up the stairs behind a gaggle of redheaded children (whose surname you could likely guess on the first try).

They settle into a compartment halfway down the carriage. Anne-Marie eagerly presses her face against the glass and makes a silly face at Sebastian, which he delightedly returns. Simon waves goodbye as well and holds up the book he’d packed, showing it off as if to say, “See Mum? We’ll be just fine.”

With your groggy son in your arms and Sebastian’s arm around your shoulders, you watch as the train slowly starts to rumble down the tracks and into the brilliant September sunshine. It’s carrying your children ever closer to your home, and yet further away from you than they’ve ever been.

You hide a few tears against the lapel of Sebastian’s robes; he kindly wipes away the rest with a handkerchief and kisses the redness on your cheeks and nose until you’re smiling once more.

“They’re going to have an incredible year,” he whispers to you. “It’s Hogwarts.”

You simply nod, not trusting yourself to answer without a stray sob slipping out.

Dozens of parents begin to Apparate away from the tracks as soon as the train rounds the corner, but with your youngest, you’ll need to make your way back to the station’s Floo flames to get home safely. This time pushing an empty cart, the three of you slip back through the brick barricade.

“It sure will feel quiet when we get home,” Sebastian says a little sadly.

“We’ve still got the littlest one,” you say softly, cradling your sleeping boy’s cheek as he clings to you through his nap. “He’ll keep us on our toes enough as he gets older.”

“I suppose,” Sebastian sighs, still sounding morose even as he reaches over and gently strokes the back of his fingers down your singleton’s back.

Then he perks up and raises an eyebrow at you. “Or perhaps we could try for a fourth?”

You shoot him a withering glare. “Not on your life, Sebastian Sallow. We’ve just sent the twins off to school, I think that means we should actually get to enjoy some peace and quiet for once.”

(Though when your twins come home for the winter holidays with countless tales of their adventures with new friends and their pockets stuffed full of Zonko’s products, Sebastian gets to be the one to tell them they’ll have a new baby sister the following summer.)

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian x mc #anne sallow #ominis gaunt #IT'S AN OFF TO HOGWARTS KIDFIC TADA

[heliads]

I recently re-read the hunger games trilogy, so can you write a katniss fic with a fem!reader being secretly haymitch's daughter?? nothing much, just the two of them spending time together, hunting or spending some quality time together, ignoring the capitol, the world and individual problems to enjoy the hours they have together

please let me write for thg i love this request

masterlist

It is a terrible thing to be a Victor. Most people only look surface level, choosing to focus on the gilded trappings and gaudy praise the Capitol heaps upon you. Beneath the facade, living with the memories of what you’ve done is far harder than finding a way to burn through all the money they give you for killing twenty-three other children while all the world watches on. The price of blood was always worse than the price of gold, anyway.

You’ve seen this once before already. The Capitol does its best to stay up to date on every little detail of their lovely Victors’ lives, but when Haymitch Abernathy had his first child, he did everything in his power to ensure that no one would ever find out. That infant would live in someone else’s home, kept out of sight of the cameras and the Arena alike, and she would grow up to be you.

It wasn’t the worst of lives. It kind of was. No one can pick their place in life when they first come into the world, obviously. Otherwise, we’d all be living up in the Capitol and no one would be down here, choking on coal dust, waiting for their bones to turn ash so their body can be burned to heat the homes of the rich and prosperous a million miles away from them.

Haymitch watched out for you as best he could. He sent your foster parents money when he remembered it, always a little out of schedule, a touch too much to cover up for the fact that he forgot the last time around. He started remembering as you got older, though. He stopped feeling ashamed of you and started feeling ashamed of himself.

You see him a lot, although the frequency of your meetings always picks up around the time of the Games. He needs it as a reminder that not everything about him always leads to death and ruin. Once in a blue moon, Haymitch Abernathy is responsible for something good. Something, someone, like you.

There’s a schedule to the Games, one that isn’t known or enforced by the Peacekeepers, and it goes like this:  first there is the before, and then there is the after. Prior to the start of the Hunger Games ceremonies, Haymitch will be over at your place. You’ll talk a lot. Both of you will do your best to keep the conversations light. Remember when you were a kid, crawling around all the time? How you used to laugh like crazy whenever it snowed?

Then he’ll get dragged off by the Capitol to go mentor two kids until they die, and then you reach the second phase of the schedule, the after. Haymitch will hole up in his estate in the Victor’s Village, the only occupied house there, the only living being around because he couldn’t save a single person other than himself, and you will find him because no one else will. It’s quiet most of the time. He doesn’t want to think about anything at all, and certainly not the additional two kids who placed their faith in him just for him to let them down again.

After a while, he’ll manage to claw his way out of it, and then you’ll have the better part of a year before the cycle repeats. You’ve had plenty of time to grow used to this pattern, and you’ve perfected it like a pastime. The right words to say get easier to remember when you say them every year. And now, as a reward for getting it right, you get to repeat the process with Katniss Everdeen.

You say that like it’s a bad thing. It’s not. Truth be told, it’s easier spending time with Katniss than anyone else, even right after her first Games when everything is bloody and terrible. You could see yourself doing this again next year, and the next one, and the next. You don’t think you would mind it. Not at all.

Perhaps that’s why Haymitch set this up in the first place. Maybe he knew it would be okay. Or maybe he was just so ridiculously pleased that he managed to save not one tribute but two that he was only thinking about prolonging Katniss’ survival. The reasons don’t always matter. What happened, happened, and secretly you’re glad of it now.

Katniss had been locked in a death spiral of nightmares and bad memories. It soon became clear that she would lose herself to it if someone didn’t intervene, so someone did. Haymitch took Katniss by the shoulders, shook her a little and told her to get it together, and pointed her to you. You knew what it was like to befriend someone who wanted to shut out the world, who couldn’t sleep without nightmares and couldn’t talk without thinking that someone was watching. You could understand Katniss better than anyone, and Haymitch knew it. Daughters are such wonderful pawns to play, aren’t they?

Again, a cruel way to put it, but this is the truth nonetheless. It’s what Katniss suspected the first time you visited her house, and the second, but after a couple of weeks passed and it grew obvious that you weren’t giving up on her without a fight, she begrudgingly let you in. The two of you had been observing each other for years now, the consequence of there only being so many girls your age in a small town in District Twelve, but things accelerated rapidly after the Games.

You’ll never be entirely certain why. Katniss doesn’t let people in, and she threw up her walls tenfold after she partook in the Hunger Games, unable to discern if someone was talking to her because they wanted to or if they wanted to kill her. She even started growing distant from Gale, because Gale didn’t understand her completely, not anymore. Not like you did.

Over the course of the summer, Katniss’ icy demeanor started to melt. She is hesitant and cautious, but she still smiles at your offhand jokes, always a little surprised, like she can’t believe she’s having this good of a time either. The two of you start meeting up in the forest surrounding District Twelve where no one can see you, where it’s just the two of you and the blissful sunlight waving through endless flurries of leaves above your heads.

And, not according to plan, you realize that you’re starting to fall for her. Katniss is like no one you’ve ever met before, even your dad. You knew how to operate around Haymitch, but Katniss doesn’t require an assembly guide or how-to explanation. You just know her. It is as easy as that.

After realizing such a thing as that, how could you not begin to love her? You can steal your dad’s drinks and get properly sloshed on them, but it’ll never match the tipsiness you feel when you look at her; when she laughs at one of your jokes, always reluctant at first but more easily as she gets more used to you. It makes you want to try again and again, and so you do. Katniss listens every time. She says she likes to hear you.

Instead of running away, you decide to embrace the feeling. You head to the woods more and more often, although never at the risk of the Peacekeepers’ attention. Katniss never tells you when she’s going out, nor do you mention when you’re out here, but the two of you have a habit of finding each other nonetheless. You turn around and there she is, emerging from a stand of trees; she crosses a bank at the same time as you; you climb a tree to get a better vantage point of the forest and you’re instantly drawn to the sight of her doing the same across a clearing. Katniss makes sense.

If you squint your eyes just right, you can make your entire world double. The hazy afterimages of present day will swim before you, a hair out of line but still there, still two instead of one. For example, right now, walking through the woods beyond District Twelve, it’s as if you can see two exact images of the current moment instead of only one.

On one version of this day a few years ago, when you hide away from the world in the forbidden greenery past your district’s limits, you come across Katniss Everdeen and you hide from her, too. You do not know her. Not well, at least. You see her and pretend otherwise. She does the same. She heard your footsteps first and thought herself visited by a deer instead of a girl. Her finger tensed on her bowstring, but she released it the second your face finally came into view. Katniss could not kill a person.

Would not. Katniss can kill a person, as it turns out, she can outlive twenty-two tributes through various purposes and keep one other alive, then do it again, but she does not know that yet. All Katniss knows in this past moment, this one half of a fractured memory, is that she will not kill you, and that is true today, too.

On the other version, the one that happens today, you do not run from Katniss, you go to her. That is the whole purpose of risking the Peacekeepers’ wrath by ducking under the fence to escape to the forest. The wilderness means Katniss, and Katniss means you’ll be able to spend another day relatively free from the concerns of a girl from District Twelve who has increasingly little between herself and the violence of not having enough.

Katniss doesn’t turn when you approach, but you can hear the quiet smile in her voice when she admonishes you, “You’re going to scare away all my game.”

You chuckle. “No, no. I’m drawing them out of the bush so you can shoot them. It’s teamwork.”

“If it were teamwork,” she argues, “you would also have a bow.”

You lift a shoulder. “I would never dare steal your favorite weapon. I want you to feel important.”

This does make her laugh. Almost indignantly, yes, but still a laugh. Still a win for you. She manages to nab a few birds before setting her bow down for the morning. The two of you sit side by side in the tall grass, a cool breeze blowing upon your faces, bringing with it the tender tangy scent of the forest.

Usually, neither of you have ever suffered from awkwardness when you’re out here. You could spend hours out here, not saying a word, and it would be just as fulfilling as if you’d spoken the entire time. Today, though, there’s something stuck on the tip of your tongue, a truth that refuses to go unsaid no matter how you fight it.

At last, you give in and, keeping your eyes resolutely ahead, you tell her what’s on your mind. “I’m glad you’re with me, Katniss.”

You can see Katniss frowning out of the corner of your eyes. “Where else would I be?”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean. You could have heard me coming and avoided me the second I stepped into the forest. Probably would have caught more, too.”

Katniss shakes her head doubtfully. “No, we’re good. This is good.”

She sets her jaw determinedly, like this settles everything. It does, in a way. It gives you the courage to continue. “I’m glad to hear it. I like spending time with you.” A pause. “I like you.”

Katniss’ brow knits. “Why would you like me?” Genuinely confused, she adds on, “I’ve done terrible things, Y/N.”

“We’re all terrible,” you whisper back softly.

She rolls her eyes. “I’ve been in the Games. You haven’t.”

This is true. No matter how much time you spend with Haymitch or Katniss, nor how many stories you hear about the Hunger Games, it will never be the same as actually taking part in them yourself. With all luck, you never will. Both Haymitch and Katniss would fight to keep you out of them, and then to keep you alive, should that happen, but the possibility shrinks with every year as you get older.

“I still want you,” you tell her. More the empty forest air; you can’t quite say this to her face, not yet. The fear of rejection after everything is too great a burden to bear.

When you do risk a glance over at her, though, Katniss doesn’t look affronted. Instead, she looks more at peace than you’ve ever seen her. Slowly, carefully, her face upturned to catch the morning sun, Katniss smiles again. You’re not even sure that she’s aware of doing it. It is simply the only way she can process that this, you wanting her, would make her happier than anything else.

And, sitting here in the forest, surrounded by a million memories of all that you have done together, a thousand hopes of all that you have yet to do, you look over at Katniss and you know. You know that she loves you. You know that she can’t say it, not yet, not until she’s certain that you love her as much as she loves you.

She will tell you, though. In time. Perhaps it’ll happen another day out here past the confines of District Twelve, in a space that has always been safe to the two of you and will thus protect her from the fallout of confessing to a friend. Perhaps she’ll tell you while you’re asleep next to her, to avoid a response, or perhaps she’ll tell you while you’re pretending to be asleep, so she knows you’re heard and you don’t have to tell her anything.

Or, maybe she’ll just say it now, unspoken but still startlingly loud, audible in every glance your way, every faint smile she never bothers to hide. That, you think, would be enough.

hunger games tag list: @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#katniss everdeen #katniss everdeen imagines #katniss everdeen x reader #katniss everdeen oneshot #hunger games #hunger games imagines #hunger games x reader #hunger games oneshot #katniss #katniss imagines #katniss x reader #katniss oneshot #thg #thg imagines #thg x reader #thg oneshot #thg katniss #thg katniss imagines #thg katniss x reader #thg katniss oneshot

[abibliophobiaa]

right where you left me

chapter three coming 11/13, read on for preview…

——

The Hideout is bustling with customers. Endless rows of children constructing and decorating gingerbread houses at one table, while parents and family members alike mill about at the other tables, conversations about the upcoming holidays filtering through your ears as you pass by, handing off drinks and food.

Steve’s not here yet. A fact you notice as you watch the table of your friends grow, the group bent low together, beaming at what the other is saying, caught up in their company as day turns into night.

You’re finishing up handing off water to a table of teenagers when you notice Abi waving you over, a weary look in her eyes. It’s when your gaze travels southward you notice the shaggy blonde curls that you couldn’t forget even if you tried. Nor the pristine suit and tailored pants, the too expensive watch, that tie cinched around his neck. Green eyes drift your way from the bar, arms crossing over a toned chest. Chiseled cheekbones give way to blonde stubble, a messier look than you’re used to on Clark’s conventionally attractive features.

His eyes narrow at your appearance. To him, you’re wearing no more than a pair of jeans you bought off of a clearance rack, and a black sweater with a hole in one sleeve after you’d gotten it caught on Steve’s truck handle. He’s seen you in designer gowns, shoes, decked to the nines with jewelry, looking like the ever dutiful daughter. And now — now his eyes roam your form with distaste, the curl of his lip making your stomach drop.

“I can ask him to leave,” Abi murmurs low against your ear as you slip behind the bar to join her, “just say the word, and he’s gone. Eddie wouldn’t mind if I toss him out. He’s kind of an asshole anyway. Asked me if I had a specific bottle of wine, and scoffed when I said we didn’t. I almost told him he could shove the credit card he slapped against the bar up his ass.”

“Sounds about right,” you grumble, giving her hand a little squeeze. “I’ll be okay. And if not, and you catch me ready to throw a glass and lose my job —”

“I’ll turn the other way and pretend I didn’t see it.”

Offering her a smile, you slip back out and round the bar, grabbing Clark’s sleeve and tugging him to a smaller table positioned away from everyone else. From here, you can see Steve when he arrives and escape if need be. Huffing, you cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head up, staring into that blank stare.

“So this is where you ran off to,” he tuts, snickering, “it’s…charming.”

“It’s where I grew up,” you tell him flatly, “it’s home.”

“Home is in the city,” he says, leaning up onto his elbows, hand coming to curl over your own. Your eyes narrow at the contact, at the feeling of his finger cradling the back of your palm. “Come home. Stop this, please? Your family misses you, your friends miss you — believe it or not, I miss you.”

You bark out an incredulous laugh. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Darling…” The hand around yours tightens, and you know he’s trying to narrow your window of escape, to ensure you stay rooted in place. “We had fun together, didn’t we?”

“At events, sure.”

He was kind enough. Was willing to laugh with you, to joke and tease, to talk. But there was nothing of any sort of romantic nature beneath the surface. Your marriage was intended for monetary purposes and those alone.

“You hardly even gave us a chance.”

“Clark, we were in an arrangement,” you remind him. “A mutually beneficial agreement for both of us.”

“Which has since fallen through.”

“And I am sorry about that —”

“Then come home,” he says again, eyes intent on your face. “Come. Home.”

“This is my home,” you whisper, catching the sight of Steve walking by in the window. His eyes immediately narrow at the sight of Clark across from you.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Clark lets out a bitter laugh as Steve appears in the doorway, approaching your table cautiously. “This is the guy you ran out on me with. Him? You’re choosing him. What can he offer you that I cannot?”

——

i don’t know, what can steve offer that clark can’t? you’ll find out monday. hehe 😉

#lunalovessteve #steve harrington x reader #steve Harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve Harrington fluff #steve Harrington smut

[hisokas-toybox]

Headcanons Series: The Zoldyck children and their sibling dynamics. Part 1 - Illumi

Togashi has already given us this image

Which gives us an insight into how some of the Zoldycks relate to one another. But it doesn't give us much depth or detail to really sink our teeth into. In fact, according to this most of the siblings have no relationships to each other at all!

So, I'm going to post a series of my own headcanons about how the Zoldyck children are most likely to interact with/view each other and what their early interactions might have looked like too. These are not explicitly canon but are based mostly off what we've seen in the various anime and manga, plus some little bits of inspiration here and there from fanfic/fanart I've enjoyed along the way. I'll make a new post for each child, looking from their POV at the relationships they have with each sibling from eldest to youngest.

Illumi

Milluki - I feel these two probably have the most "normal" sibling dynamic of the Zoldyck children. I don't think they particularly like each other or have much in common but they're old enough to tolerate each other and work together in a give/take way when needed. In the current timeline, I feel Illumi probably views Milluki as "fat and lazy" and "lacking the discipline needed to be a great assassin."

As children however, Illumi would have been young when Milluki was born. He probably wasn't responsible for raising/training Milluki the way he would be with his other siblings. He therefore, probably doesn't think of Milluki as his responsibility as much as he does the other kids (hence why I think they have the most normal sibling dynamic). I can easily imagine that when Milluki was born, little Illumi would have been jealous of his new brother. Before Milluki there was ONLY Illumi, and I can imagine he would have struggled to adjust to suddenly having to share his parents attention (even if it was negative attention in the form of brutal training) and probably made it his goal to be better than Milluki at everything. Aggressively so, to the point that now, the two are still nothing alike and Illumi still, as an adult, looks down on Milluki as the "disappointment" compared to the rest of his family though he probably doesn't even realise why or where that need to be better than Milluki comes from.

Killua - We know the most about this one, so I'll try to keep it short! Illumi feels VERY protective of Killua. We know he was like a second father to Killua, training him and spending lots of time raising him. Illumi's parents clearly value Killua the most of all their children. And given that Illumi is so desperate to impress/please his parents and looks up to them as his idols, he follows whatever beliefs they hold without question. They say Killua is the most special golden boy? Must be true. And therefore, Illumi must prove himself by being the very best trainer/mentor/guardian/protector Killua could ever have! No matter the cost! With the age gap between Illumi and Killua being much bigger than between him and Milluki, Illumi had some time to mature a bit and so felt more secure and less jealous of Killua taking his parents attention away than he did with Milluki. At some point, I think Illumi even grew a genuine soft spot for Killua. Illumi appreciated that Killua was inquisitive and eager to learn, he learned quickly too, but most notably, Killua was and still is stubborn and sassy. Sometimes this could be annoying, but mostly I imagine Illumi secretly enjoyed Killua's cheeky side (Neither he nor Milluki had ever dared be rude to the butlers or worse their parents, so Killua's nerve was fascinating). Prior to Killua learning nen, the power difference between the two meant that even if Killua did cross a line it was easy for Illumi to put him in his place, so he maybe allowed a little more than he should've just because he enjoyed the novelty of Killua's attitude (bonus headcanon - younger Illumi and Killua teaming up to prank Milluki as part of Killua's "stealth training" ). Things are much sadder now from Illumi's POV. Killua is terrified of Illumi. And seemingly, hates him and wants nothing more than get away from him. When Gon said that line about Illumi not being qualified to be Killua's brother? Yeah. Illumi played it cool, but that HURT. Illumi wants Killua to be safe, more than anything and is no doubt worried about him all the time he's away from home doing God knows what. The needle he used on Killua was harsh and nasty but it was done out of (twisted) love and an attempt to protect his little brother. (That was not short! I have a lot of feelings about Illumi!!!)

Alluka - Again, Illumi believes his parents word to be gospel on this one. Not a single original thought in his head regarding her at all. He was told she wasn't human. Believes that and so doesn't treat or view her as a person. Makes no attempt to bond with her like he did with Killua, studied her and experimented with her when her powers and the limits/consequences weren't entirely clear. Just like his parents, he doesn't fully understand her abilities/underlying humanity and fears her (and he rarely fears anything). He shuns her and allows her to be locked away. He even tries to kill her to protect Killua (and a lot of other people including himself, but mostly Killua) from the fallout of her powers. Now he does know all the rules/conditions of her ability he wants to be able to use it and control it for himself (her ability - again he has no attachment to her whatsoever) but knows Killua is protecting her and Illumi won't act against Killua (not his favourite sibling!) So he's likely just busying himself with other things for now.

Kalluto - Once again, Illumi is the 3rd parent to this sibling! And though Kalluto isn't as sassy/entertaining or spirited as Killua was, Illumi has a soft spot for Kalluto too. He sees Kalluto is much more quiet, serious and obedient and doesn't need much babysitting compared to Killua. I actually think Illumi sees a lot of himself in Kalluto so he's quite protective and fond of him (maybe even a little bit affectionate??) In Illumi's mind Kalluto is Baby, and probably always will be even when he's an adult!

#hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh character analysis #hxh headcanons #mine #yes a genuinely original post by me #a rare occurance #Illumi #Milluki #Killua #Alluka #Kalluto #zoldyck siblings #part one

[atopvisenyashill]

what do u think of ned and sansa’s relationship?

sorry this took so long, i wasn't sure how to lay it out because i didn't just want to word vomit all over lol.

i think it's a great depiction of grief and trauma "dripping through" so to speak (to steal a succession line) from a parent to their child. ned and sansa are similar in many ways (in fact, I'd argue that Sansa is the most like Ned) and you can see clearly that Sansa gets her outlook on life and society more so from her father than her mother. While Cat is much less trusting, much more forceful, and incredibly emotional, Ned has a much more romanticized idea of the world. He makes many of the same mistakes that Sansa does, as a matter of fact -

they both trust Littlefinger despite the warning signs because they both feel they have no other option and no allies to rely on, so this shady guy obsessed with Cat is the least noxious option (in their eyes)

they both have this idealistic image of a Baratheon that is tied more to reputations and romanticism than in that particular man's personality - Ned should realize that he can't rely on Robert literally the moment Robert refuses to step in to protect Lady but keeps deluding himself because Robert the Hero, Robert the King, Robert the Foster Brother, is this larger than life image he has in his mind. Meanwhile, Joffrey is...Joffrey and Sansa overlooks and romanticizes this because The Chivalrous Prince is this idea that is all powerful in her head.

they both think around a subject rather than face it head on. I detailed an example of this here but there's literally dozens of examples in both of their narratives. it's this commonality that I find particularly interesting; it's not just that they're very indirect people but that when faced with trauma, both of them double down on avoiding their trauma to cope with it.

in particular, they both do this wrt a younger sister which is even more fascinating in my opinion - so easy to have Ned think more often around Brandon but instead it's Lyanna he Does Not Obsess Over, and it's Lyanna he compares Sansa to (even though they likely look nothing alike). Later, it would be easy to have Sansa think more about her brothers but again, it's Arya she Does Not Obsess Over, and we know Arya likely resembles Lyanna to a point. Just something really fascinating there, that the relationship they are most troubled by is one with a little sister.

and in that vein, both of them will romanticize their own trauma to cope with it. we see this obviously with sansa and the Unkiss but I think it's present in his thoughts of the Tower of Joy as well. his fever dream in eddard x is steeped in fantasy imagery, with his companions as faceless wraiths, a "storm of rose petals" streaking across the red sky. he does this with rhaegar as well in my opinion - when he does think of rhaegar the man (and not just of his children) he has this image of Rhaegar as a chivalrous sort of man who no one can really measure up to and yet he never explicitly thinks anything positive about Rhaegar. once again, sort of romanticizing his idea of someone, like Sansa does with Sandor.

both of them are incredibly self conscious about how they're perceived - Ned thinks about his father and brother as being "born" to rule, is very aware that people see him as kind of an idiot, and Sansa is equally worried that people will see her as "silly" or simple. It seems very tied to their roles as the "girlson" - Sansa as the eldest daughter who must make an illustrious match and live up to that expectation of her and Ned as the second son stepping in to fill a role he feels unprepared to take.

despite some paternalism about the poor (Ned sitting a man with him every night while also kind of purposefully distancing himself to be The Benevolent Father of Winterfell and Sansa's out of pocket but realistic comments about Jeyne and Mya's marriage prospects), they clearly care about the common or low born people they live with - I think Sansa's grief (and purposeful Thinking Around) over Jeyne Poole going missing and her insistence that Jeyne's father is safe speaks to her affection for the Pooles just as Ned's fixation on Jory Cassel being murdered by Jaime also speaks to his affection for the Cassels. And just from an audience PoV, I think it really underlines Ned and Sansa's horror over the situation that Ned is traumatized by Jory's death at the hands of the Lannisters, and Sansa thinks over a year later about "poor Jeyne Poole" and her disappearance (due to the Lannisters, though she's ultimately sold by LF)

And then there's the emotional distance between them, that I think is really compounded by his trauma over Lyanna and Sansa's age -

Ned ultimately learns the wrong lesson from Lyanna's death. He doesn't learn "women shouldn't be given so few options and should be allowed control over their lives" he learns "if i protect the women i love from the evils of this world and give them freedom when they're young, they'll be happier" and that's just. Oh Ned.

But that "lesson" is really obvious in how he treats Sansa - he keeps her in the dark while putting her in a dangerous situation, because he doesn't want her to be involved in the same politics that killed Lyanna even as he's actively involving her in those politics. His first thoughts about Sansa in the book are that she's too young to be engaged to Joffrey! He does not want to let her go out into the big bad world and he thinks simply keeping the bad stuff from her mind is how he'll save her.

The Lady situation I think is what really damages their relationship; he links Sansa and Lyanna in his mind so closely during this scene that I think it stops him from being able to emotionally connect with her anymore. It's so tragic - to see Lyanna's sorrow reflected in Sansa, to feel that loss so deeply that it stops him from being able to comfort Sansa the way he comforted Lyanna as she died.

all of this really bites him in the ass because Sansa looks at his silence and sees treachery while Ned looks at her silence and sees obedience. And the moment when both of them are finally ready to act and not just dream is when their stories clash horrifically.

Narratively, I think they're set up to have some parallels - Ned as the second son (and what is a second son than a girlson, really) who was never supposed to inherit who does after a violent tragedy, and Sansa as the second born who was also never supposed to inherit who will after a violent tragedy.

And Ned's story is book ended by Ned choosing his love of a young female relative over his honor - he actually compares Sansa to Lyanna first in his narrative:

He could still hear Sansa pleading, as Lyanna had pleaded once.

and it's Sansa who he once again chooses over his word, over his honor. when he looks at Sansa (and Arya) all he sees is his grief. It leads all three of them to their doom, but Ned's death is something he would choose over and over because in the end, with all his faults, Ned did learn one good lesson from Lyanna and it's that a living, breathing woman will always be more important than some words spoken before a king. what is honor compared to the feel of your daughter in your arms, the memory of your sister's smile?

#ned stark #sansa stark #fathers and daughters #valyrianscrolls #asks #getting on my soap box #oh my god this is so long. i think i did just word vomit actually i'm sorry #Septa Mordane gets piss ass drunk and falls asleep and a heavily dissociating JOFFREY is the one to step up and get Sansa home #where she's promptly left alone with a man twice her age who trauma dumps and then threatens to kill her. LIKE? HELLO?? #i got two more asks in my inbox no i did not miss them i promise. just busy and tired

[tiannasfanfic]

The Night Before Christmas

Eddie Munson x Reader (Fluff)

| Eddie & Steddie Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: After your final shift of the season at Starcourt Mall's Christmas Village, you prepare for your annual holiday celebration of one by stopping at Family Video for a few movies. You only came in for your annual favorites, but end up leaving with something very unexpected.

Rating: General Audiences

Author Note: Gender neutral reader, they/them pronouns. Super fluffy, inspired by the meet-cute from one of my favorite Christmas movies.

CW: Cranky Santa's; mentions of marijuana use; accidental injuries (clunked on the forehead by a door); generic description of unisex elf outfit.

Word Count: 3,132

Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore

If there was one place you could say for certain that you hated, it was the mall.

Though, there was one place you could easily say you hated worse than the mall, and that was mall at Christmas time.

And yet, here you were, on Christmas Eve, not only at the mall, but working as Santa’s right-hand elf.

Despite the fact you didn’t care for the holiday season as a whole, you really looked forward to this gig every December.

The first year you played an elf at the Christmas Village in Starcourt Mall, you were saving for your own place and had picked it up as a second job. However, you ended up finding the work way more enjoyable than most other jobs you’d had. It was the perfect fit for you. You loved performing and entertaining people, especially kids. And what better way to entertain kids than by fully falling into the role of Santa’s merry little elf, fresh off the plane from the North Pole? People always mistook you for a theater kid since you had a flair for the dramatic and were always flamboyant. As it turns out, that’s exactly the right attitude you needed in order to successfully play a Christmas elf.

After you were out of your parents’ house, you enjoyed it enough that you keep coming back every year to don the ill-fitting elf outfit.

Really, that was the only downside. The elf costume was the same for all of Santa’s elves regardless of gender; a green sweater, red knee length puffy pants, gold and white striped leggings, green elf shoes and a green elf hat. The whole thing was bespoken with bells, tinsel, shiny things, and anything else you would expect to see adorning an elf’s clothing.

And it was one size fits all, which meant it fit absolutely no one that wore it.

Ah well. Pros and cons. At least it was warm.

Even though the line shut down precisely at 4pm as it always did on Christmas Eve, it was closer to 5 by the time you got through everyone already standing in it. It had been a super busy day with everyone that waited until the last minute to get their Santa photos done.

Really though, it had been a super busy week in general ever since word got out around town that the Good Santa was back at Starcourt Mall. The parents of Hawkins didn’t know why, but three years ago, after using the same guy in the role for a long time, the mall decided to hire someone else to play Santa. And this made exactly no one happy, neither parent nor elf.

Even in the Santa suit, jolly was not in this man’s vocabulary. In fact, you were pretty sure if anything jolly came within five feet of him, it would immediately wither and die. He was cranky and mean to everyone, customers and fellow employees alike. At least half of the children who saw Santa during those years left crying, and so did most of the elves every night when they went home.

But, this year, the old Santa Claus was back in town.

Now this was a man who truly embodied the role, waving and smiling at people while waiting between visits with the kids, calling out “Merry Christmas“ to them in a boisterous, jolly voice. He looked very much like Santa; his suit like nothing anyone in that small town had ever seen, blending old traditions and new together in a suit that could have been custom made for the man himself.

But, most importantly, everyone loved him. There was rarely a screaming baby photo with this Santa around, he just had a natural, soothing presence for even the most fearful child. You were pretty sure nothing could get within five feet of that man and not leave in a fantastic mood. Even looking at him made a person smile.

While you were also happy to have the old Santa back, it always made you giggle every time you heard someone talking about how amazing he was over every other Santa in Hawkins.

It made you giggle because the Santa everyone loved so much was none other than your uncle, Reefer Rick.

Like you, Uncle Rick had been working the Christmas gig for a long time now, even helping you get hired your first year there, and he thoroughly enjoyed it. The only time he ended up missing out on it was for the three years that he was in jail.

Unlike you though, every December he was genuinely filled with holiday cheer, not just faking it like you were.

No one would have guessed it by looking at the man under normal circumstances since he looked like someone who started his grumpy old man stage early, but Rick was quite possibly one of the nicest men in town. But, considering the population never bothered to get to know the man that half of them bought their drugs from, few people actually knew that.

The truly funny part of it was, Uncle Rick didn’t really try to hide the fact he was Santa. He didn’t disguise his voice, drove the same car, everything. But if anyone ever figured it out, they chose to ignore it. Between the padding he wore under the Santa costume that made him look moderately plump, a beard properly applied to his skin with spirit gum, a dash of makeup, and a cheerful demeanor that would rival the real Santa himself, it was easy for people to pretend they didn’t see what they didn’t want to see.

At the end of the day, so long as everyone was happy, and Uncle Rick was, then you guessed that was all that mattered.

You never bothered to change before leaving the mall since it always gave kids a giggle to see an elf walking around town. Neither did Rick for the same reasons. However, you did change into your normal shoes and put on your jacket before heading out the employee entrance to leave.

As you both walked across the parking lot together, Uncle Rick invited you to a Christmas party he was throwing that evening. Since neither of you spoke much to the rest of the family, your parents included, Rick had invited his chosen family and a few clients that had become close, genuine friends to spend the holiday eve with. But the weeks of holiday customer service work had finally taken their toll on you though, and you were mentally worn out. Uncle Rick more than understood, embraced you in a bear hug, then gave you an early Christmas present; One ounce of Lilac Diesel, your favorite strain.

That would pair very well with the evening of movie rentals and Chinese takeout you had planned.

Traffic was pretty heavy thanks to last minute shoppers, but you managed to reach the video store well before closing.

“Welcome to Family Vid- hey, Y/N!”

Since you preferred to spend most of your evenings at home, you tended to stop by the video store multiple times a week. This had led to a friendship with the evening clerks, Robin and Steve. You knew them fairly well by this point, and you stopped at the counter to talk with them for a while before you went wandering the aisles. It didn’t take you long to pick out what you wanted, choosing the same movies you watched every year around Christmas.

After Robin rang you out, you continued talking to them as you walked back to the door, pausing at the door to finish your conversation, your free hand resting on the handle.

Since you were looking over at your two friends rather than outside, you didn’t see a van pulling into the parking lot, nor did you see the curly haired man in a leather jacket hop out of it. He didn’t see you either as he walked up to the video store, busy double checking to make sure that he’d remembered to rewind the tapes before bringing them back

Right as the man was reaching for the door handle, you pushed the door open to leave.

BAM

Your head whirled around to the door at the sudden impact, eyes widening as you finally saw the man. He staggered backwards a step, a large red welt in the middle of his forehead from the collision with the door. His deep brown eyes crossed as he teetered sideways, then they rolled back into his head, and he hit the ground just a second later.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed in alarm, quickly rushing outside.

Behind you, an alarmed Steve started to head around the counter to go help but was stopped when Robin grabbed his arm.

“Hang back a minute,” Robin told him when he looked at her quizzically. “I have a feeling about this one.”

Outside, you rushed over to the groaning figure sprawled out on the ground, who was now rubbing his forehead with one ring bespoke hand.

“I am so, so sorry!” you said, dropping your movies to the sidewalk next to the man as you bent down over him. “I didn’t see you there!”

Grabbing the man’s arm, you helped him sit up, then got around behind him so you could wrap your arms around his chest to pull him to his feet.

“You probably - owwww,” the man said, wincing as he straightened into a standing position, both of you sliding some on the slushy sidewalk. “You probably shouldn’t move someone that just had a bad blow to the head.”

Once he was steady, you let him go, then began dusting off the back of his denim vest and the sleeves of his jacket.

“Probably not,” you said, fluffing his hair to free any snow it picked up from the sidewalk. “But then you would’ve just gotten wet and cold.”

“That’s actually a-“ he started to say, his words suddenly cutting off as you stepped around him and he saw you for the first time. “…good point.”

As your gaze met his, you found your eyes widening as a tingle spread across the back of your neck and then quickly shot down the length of your spine.

ZING

At various points throughout your life, you had beard about the zing. Usually, it was from people who were often severely unreliable about such matters. Your mother told you all about it when you were little, but your parents did not have a relationship that any sane person would desire. Your friends all told you about it in high school, but the zings they felt never seemed to last.

From your understanding, the zing is what was supposed to happen when you met your true love, or your soul mate, depending on which wording you wanted to use. The whole concept just sounded highly suspect to you.

Until now.

Neither of you spoke as you stood there staring into each other’s eyes. You hadn’t noticed it, but your jaw had gone slack in a mirror image of his.

Inside the video store, both Steve and Robin had come over to the door and were watching you two through the glass.

The man was the first to snap out of whatever trance the two of you found yourselves in, and his mouth snapped shut.

“Uh,” he finally said, as he started rubbing the back of his head. “I must have a concussion. Now I’m seeing elves.”

A sudden fit of giggles escaped from your lips before you could clamp your mouth shut. You could feel your cheeks warming and hoped the man would assume it was from the chilly December air.

“Yes, but not a real one,” you said, smiling. “I work down at the mall in their Christmas Village.”

The look of confusion on the man’s face was replaced by one of understanding and he laughed.

“Now that makes way more sense,” he said, then returned your smile.

The tingling sensation ran down your spine from the back of your neck, the blush on your cheeks inexplicably coming back.

You both cleared your throats and quickly looked away from each other at the exact same moment, dropping your gaze down to the sidewalk. That was when you noticed three video tapes you didn’t recognize scattered among your own dropped selections. You bent down, picking up those up from the sidewalk.

When you stood upright, you met his wide-eyed gaze again as you offered him the tapes.

“I think these are yours,” you said, smiling at him.

“Uh, thanks,” he said, blinking a few times in surprise, then smiled. “You know, I think you had a few yourself, too.”

“Yeah, I-“ you started to say as you bent down to pick up your movies.

However, the man started to bend over at the same time you did, which resulted in the two of you clunking your foreheads together.

“Ow,” you both said in unison.

You started giggling again, not even bothering to stop yourself this time as you rubbed your forehead. The man blinked a few times and shook his head as if to clear it, then grinned sheepishly.

“Alright, you wait here, I’ll go down, okay?” he said.

“Okay,” you said through a new fit of giggles.

He winked at you, then bent over to gather up your movies. You watched him with a smile on your face and a warmth in your heart. There was definitely something charming about this guy.

Once he had your movies in hand, he stood upright to hand them to you. Now that you had yourself more under control, you met his gaze easily.

“Thank you,” you said, smiling at him warmly.

“No problem,” he said, returning your smile.

A few more seconds passed in silence as the two of you stared at each other again.

What on earth was happening right now?

“Well, um,” you said, suddenly having trouble speaking as you felt your heart beating in your throat. “I-I’m glad you’re okay. I’ll get out of your hair now. You have a Merry Christmas!”

“Hmm?” the man said, then blinked. “Oh! Yeah! You have a Merry Christmas too!”

You smiled at him one last time and then, despite a sudden pang you felt in your chest, turned away to head for your car.

Behind you, Eddie watched you walk away for a moment before looking down at the movies in his hand. He sighed softly and shoot his head before turning to finally go into Family Video.

However, right as he laid his hand on the handle to pull the door open, he heard the distinctive sound of the lock twisting into place.

He looked up with a confused expression, meeting the stares of Steve and Robin, both of whom had matching expressions of abject horror on their faces.

“Go after them, ya dingus!” Robin shouted.

“Don’t let them get away!” Steve shouted.

Eddie wheeled around and quickly looked for you.

Luckily, you hadn’t gotten very far. You were barely halfway to the only other vehicle in the parking lot aside from Steve’s and his.

A grin lit up Eddie’s face and he opened his mouth, preparing to call out to you, then he suddenly panicked when he realized he didn’t know your name.

“Hey, you!” he hollered instead, then grimaced at how that sounded.

You weren’t bothered by it though, just surprised. Turning back to him with curiosity, your heart began hammering in your chest as your eyes landed on him.

The man stared at you for a moment before speaking.

“Do you like Christmas parties?” he asked, then, unbeknownst to you, pointed off in the direction of Reefer Rick’s house. “If so, I know of one that’s going on right now, if you wanted to go.”

A warm feeling stirred in your chest at his words. But as, tempting as it was, you just didn’t have the spoons for a party.

“Not really,” you said with a soft smile, hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed.

Instead of disappointed though, the man seemed relieved.

“Me neither,” he said, laughing softly. “I can’t say I’m really into the Christmas spirit this year.”

Now it was your turn to laugh.

“Yeah, me neither,” you said, smiling.

Then the two of you gazed quietly at each other again, as if neither of you wanted to look away. That same tingling from earlier crept across your neck again. Now you had a little voice in the back of your head screaming at you to talk to him.

“Do you know of Canton’s?” you asked, deciding not to doubt your gut.

“The Chinese place over off MacArthur?” he asked, and you nodded in confirmation. “Hell yeah! They have the best egg rolls in Hawkins!”

“They really do,” you agreed, then smiled. “I was going to get some takeout then go home, but I wouldn’t mind sitting down for a while if I had some company. If you’re not doing anything, would you like to join me?”

The man’s face lit up as bright as the giant Christmas tree downtown.

“I’d love to!” he exclaimed, a huge smile on his face.

Now your whole body was tingling, his words lighting you up from the inside out with excitement.

“Great!” you said, a big grin on your own face. “Want to meet me there when you’re done? I can head on over and get us a table.”

“Yeah, yeah!” the man said, nodding rapidly, which made his hair fly around his head. “That sounds good!”

“Great!” you said again, your smile even bigger now.

“Great!” the man repeated, grinning.

You turned back towards the parking lot, a bounce in your step as you made your way over and got in.

Behind you, the door of Family Video flew open, and Eddie was rushed by both Steve and Robin. Robin snatched the movies out of his hands and took them inside to check them in, while Steve began fixing Eddie’s hair and clothes, as if trying to make him more presentable.

When he was done, Steve took a step back and gave his friend a quick once over.

“Eh, good enough,” he said with a shrug.

Before Eddie could protest, Steve grabbed him by the arms and spun him around before giving him a sound shove towards the parking lot.

After you were buckled in and got your car started, you looked out your window just in time to see the man jogging back over to his van. You couldn’t help but giggle as you wondered what had come over you. This was definitely a new feeling, though one you weren’t complaining about.

It wasn’t until you were already halfway to the restaurant when you were hit with a realization.

You had no idea what his name was.

#eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x reader fluff

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: Is Buck the biological father of C&K’s baby?

Full disclosure: After 6x9 “Red Flag” aired, other than to reference it in my blog posts that included a related topic and in one or two of my fanfics, I stopped posting about Buck’s sperm donation mainly because I didn’t like it in 6A and I still don’t.  But while I was creating GIFs for a post about Bobby, Buck and Chris, I noticed all the pregnant women in the scene I included at the beginning of the video (GIF below of the scene) and my curiosity was peaked.  I had questions and I wanted answers, so I analyzed the scene until I could figure out what the show may have been trying to tell the audience. After breaking the scene into three sections, I thought about Buck’s sperm donation along with all the mishaps he experienced every time he went to donate.  Then I considered his parents INITIAL reaction to it in 6x10 “In a Flash” and I think I may have finally figured it out.  Therefore, this is a speculation post based on the metaphors included in that scene.

In 6x11 “In Another Life”, while Buck was in his coma, he spent the majority of his time trying to fix several things before he ran out of time.  Eddie told him in 5x4 “Home and Away” he’s the guy who always likes to fix things and Bobby told him in 6x11 he was surprised Buck wanted to leave a place where he could fix everything to which Buck responded, “Not everything”.

The entire episode was filled with metaphors, foreshadowing and callbacks but there were two main themes included in it that related to Buck’s arc, family and fatherhood.  In his coma dream, he was trying to find answers to figure out which of his family members he needed to help so that he could return to his real life to fix it.  Even though he said he wanted to go back for himself, based on his response to Bobby about not being able to fix everything while he was in his dream, it appears he left his coma dream thinking he couldn’t fix the fact that he’s not a biological father to any children.

Buck is still MISUNDERSTANDING THE ASSIGNMENT since he is already a dad to Chris and he’s been co-parenting him with Eddie for five years.  Chris looks like Buck; they have the same hair color blonde/brown and type curly and they have the same eye color, blue. If someone didn’t know Eddie, Buck and Chris, it would be easy for them to assume Buck is Chris’ biological father the same way someone could assume Bobby is Buck’s biological father since they look so much alike. In Buck’s mind, he thinks he has to have children of his own to be a dad but that is so far from the truth especially since he’s been a parent for years.

Since Buck hasn’t realized he’s already a father, it’s likely he will need someone to tell him that he is the same way May told Bobby he’s Buck’s dad.

There appears to have been a lot of foreshadowing with regards to Buck’s sperm donation included in 6x11 but before each section is analyzed, there are two important things to remember. First, Buck donated his sperm in 6x7 “Cursed” and the episode title alone includes foreshadowing about his donation, i.e., IT’S CURSED.  The universe kept screaming at him every time he tried to make his sperm donation but he WOULDN’T LISTEN.  Second, in 6x10 “In a Flash” the Buckley parents were acting weirder than usual and it seemed like they were acting out of character especially with the way they changed their demeanors after Margaret saw the picture of the sonogram over Buck’s shoulder.  Additionally, it kind of seemed like they were hiding something from him about his own conception that may have something to do with his ability to have biological kids of his own.  Hence Margaret’s response to him of “You were a miracle baby...” which was even weirder especially since she never treated him like he was a miracle when he was growing up.  Buck told Bobby and Eddie while they were riding to the McArthur Park Apartments that his parents thought his decision to be a sperm donor was idiotic.

It appears Buck’s sperm donation is CURSED; his parents think his decision to donate was IDIOTIC and it seems like they could be HIDING SOMETHING from him about the way he was conceived to save Daniel.

Reminder, the episode was supposed to be “trippy and filled with mind puzzles”, and even though it was, most of the puzzles included in it required viewers to do several rewatches to determine what they meant.  The GIF above includes the first scene where there was a set of nurses and a set of orderlies who were dressed exactly alike and they also wore identical hairstyles.  At first glance, they appear to be twins but since their faces weren’t shown up close, it’s too difficult to tell.  The male orderlies dressed in the tan scrubs appeared several more times throughout Buck’s coma dream and it’s possible they represented something significant with regards to Buck’s sperm donation.

When Buck saw Bobby and he ran away from Hen and Chimney, he ran past the same two orderlies.

After Athena sent Bobby out of Buck’s hospital room, she walked over to his bedside and started talking to him.  She said, “That man has lost two children and he cannot survive losing you.  So, WAKE UP DAMN IT! Wake up.”  Buck responded to her from inside of his coma dream and said, “Uh, yeah, I’m trying. I just need to figure out what to fix to get back”.

When he responded to her, he walked past two men, a Caucasian and an African American, who were sitting in the waiting area next to the windows and there were two empty chairs between them.

Right when Buck and Bobby walked past the two men, the two male orderlies from earlier in the episode were standing still in front of two glass doors. They didn’t start walking until Buck and Bobby walked past them and just like they did earlier, they walked away together.

When Buck said, “I just need to figure out what I need to fix to get back”, he walked past four pregnant women.  All of them looked like they were in labor and were about to give birth at any moment.

Speculation

It appears the two men sitting in the waiting area were there to represent Buck and Connor.  Since there were two empty chairs between them, they were NOT sitting right next to each other and those empty chairs could represent the number of days between the last time Connor and Kameron had relations and Kameron’s IVF treatment. Why is this important?  Well, according to several fertility websites, a woman who has “unprotected relations” can have a spontaneous conception from sperm that could have survived within her reproductive system for several days.  Connor is not sterile, he said he has a low sperm count which means some of his little swimmers still work.

The two orderlies that were constantly walking past Buck throughout his coma dream appear to have represented both Buck’s and Connor’s swimmers since every time they were shown, they were walking right beside each other which could represent how Kameron may have been pregnant when she got her IVF treatment done but it wasn’t caught by the doctor because it had only been a couple of days.  Reminder, Kameron got pregnant really fast since Buck donated in 6x7 and he got the call from Connor that she was pregnant in 6x9.

The four pregnant women who were in labor, appeared to represent the reveal of the possibility that Buck may not be the biological father of Connor and Kameron’s baby but it wouldn’t be determined until after she gives birth.  Depending on the time jump that occurred during the hiatus after November 2022, she may be ready to deliver sometime before the end of season 6.  After she gives birth, the biological father will be revealed.

If the Buckley parents know something about Buck’s inability to conceive children, it would explain why they were shocked when Buck said he helped his friends conceive. Reminder, they didn’t change their response about his decision and say he was a miracle baby until after Mr. Han spoke up and said something to them about it.  Is it possible there’s another Buckley family secret that has yet to be revealed👀👀?

Alternative Speculation

It’s possible the two orderlies could represent Kameron being pregnant with twins but if that is the case then it doesn’t support the narrative the show has been pushing all season long.  Buck’s supposed to learn and grow after he realizes being a child’s father doesn’t require biology.  Therefore, if Kameron is pregnant with twins from the possibility of a dual conception with both Buck’s and Connor’s sperm and one of the babies is Buck’s biological child and the other one is Connor’s and they decide to give Buck the baby that’s biologically his, then how will he learn that him being Buck is enough?  He won’t because he’ll keep trying to fix things for everyone else just like he did in his coma dream instead of him focusing on the real issue which is Buck thinking he’s enough for Buck not for everyone else.

Summary

Buck left his coma dream still thinking he couldn’t fix having kids of his own but he already has a child and his name is Christopher Diaz.  It appears one of Buck’s issues with accepting the fact that he is Chris’ second dad and not just his legal guardian if Eddie’s dies, involves the need for someone to tell him he’s Chris’ dad so that he will believe it.  That’s what happened with Bobby because it’s apparent he’s known he is Buck’s found dad for six years but him hearing May say it made it real for him.

One of the things Buck NEEDED to FIX is the fact that he’s already a DAD!  Athena said Bobby couldn’t survive losing Buck well Chris and Eddie wouldn’t survive losing Buck either and that was evident when Eddie couldn’t even look at Buck when he was in his hospital room.  Also, when Chris asked Buck to help him find his dad while he was still in his coma, it seems like Chris may have been asking Buck to find himself since he’s Chris’ other dad.

Bobby’s and Buck’s lives parallel a lot especially when it comes to fatherhood and for the entirety of season 6, the theme has been about FAMILY and FATHERHOOD along with whether a child needs their biological, found or their own family to feel love and support.  Buck has been co-parenting Chris with Eddie for years and they’ve built the family they have together.

The video includes several scenes of Buck and Chris that illustrate the way he’s already a dad and the scene from 6x11 of him looking at the Ferris Wheel while he was in his coma dream includes Chris screaming for him while they were in the Tsunami (the scene was added to the end of the Tsunami clip to illustrate how Buck heard Chris calling for him during his coma dream).

Is Buck the biological father of Connor and Kameron’s baby?  If the speculation for the scene with the two men, the orderlies and the pregnant women is correct... the answer to that question is NO!  Can the narrative change, ABSOLUTELY!  Also, it appears the sperm donation storyline changed a lot after 6A so it remains to be seen what the outcome will be but Connor already reappeared in 6x12 “Recovery” and he didn’t have the chance to tell Buck why he stopped by since Josh knocked on the door.  Kameron is “supposed” to return sometime in the future and so is Connor, therefore it’s unclear what the outcome will be.

Will Buck find out before the end of season 6 if he’s the biological father of their baby?  Only the showrunner(s), writers and producers know the answer to that question.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #911 fox #911 on fox #911onfox #911 speculation #911 meta #911 s6 #911 season 6 #911 season 6 speculation #911 #Anti Connor and Kameron #bobby nash #athena grant #may grant #bathena #911 on abc #911 abc

[sjhanny2000]

Fights and Sweet Touches (Part 1)

A/N: Hey everybody, long time no see! As you can see, a drabble of mine has once again turned into a two parter! I hope to finish the second part soon, life allowing lol. This one is proving to be a douse, emotionally at least. If you enjoyed it, please leave a comment! I love to hear back from you guys!

Warning(s): Domestic argument, ANGST, hurt, mild sexual content, mentions of parental neglect and abuse, verbal assault, trauma, past demon attack mentioned, self-deprecating thoughts

~~~

To be a Demon Slayer, you must be ready to sacrifice everything to protect those who cannot protect themselves. What a well known fact this was to you, for you had not one but all four your spouses were a part of the Demon Slayer Corps., your husband being the Sound Hashira even. Tengen took his job very seriously, as did Suma, Hinatsuru, and Makio, enough that they were gone more often than not, exterminating some demon terrorizing the good people of Japan with style as he liked to say. You were proud to call them your spouses, heart always beaming with fond pride at hearing their stories on how they saved civilians and lower ranked demon slayers alike, and even more happy that they always returned home to you.

However, since your run-in with that village demon nearly nine months ago now, it had become harder for you to cope with their absence, to watch them leave from the gates whilst swallowing the bitter pill of reality that reminded you that it may be the last time you see them. Your fears increased with every departure, anxiety damn near suffocating you as you struggled to function, to find rhythm once again in your life even after all of this time. All you wanted was for them to come and stay, to have a peaceful civilian full of laughter and their bubbly personalities, knowing that all five of you were safe and sound within the wisteria walls of the estate.

These feelings seemed to have increased rapidly since Tanjiro, Nezuko, Zenitsu, and Inosuke stayed at your home, Nezuko lighting your inner desire once again to settle down and have a child of your own, much like Hikari first did. You were a month shy of your nineteenth birthday, the same age your mother became pregnant with your eldest siblings Tsuna and Tsunamaru, and a piece of you wanted the ability to mother a child that looked just like your husband with a headful of silver-white locks. Tengen had been quite adamant on not starting a family until he and your shared wives retired, believing it to be “undesirably flashy” to leave his children at home whilst being out and about slaughtering demons. It was honestly frustrating to you, having to be left at home while they ventured together and being denied the possibility of filling that loneliness with a wanted child simply because Tengen wished to wait till they all retired. When was that going to be though? It could be years before they decided to settle into civilian life, to no longer race across the countryside en-route to their next mission even though they dispatched a demon just hours before. So much of your life was on hold because of their occupation and it left you feeling upset and unsatisfied more days than not, especially when Hikari was unable to work alongside you throughout the day.

You let out a sigh of defeat as you finished mending a pair of Tengen’s pants, tying the knot with a bat of an eye and placing it to the side. It had been a righteously beautiful day outside, one you refused to spend inside wallowing in your feelings. Instead, you had gotten dressed and went to work, cleaning up your entire garden and more; you tended to the koi pond, Hinatsuru’s meditation garden, picked up and organized the training field, and tidied up your shared bedroom and craft room as well. To someone who knew very little of you, they would simply believe that you were an active person who chose to keep busy and make good use of their time and resources. However, anyone with any inkling of your personality and quirks knew that when stressed or upset, you clean, organized, and hurried about even after everything had been taken care of. Those were the days that all the kakushi and a majority of the staff steered clear of you, aside from those closest to you, they being Nao-san, Nana-san, and Kiki-san. Never did you snap but you were often either kurt or lost within the sea of your mind, reminiscing sweet memories or longing to make new ones with your spouses and the friends you had come to make since Tengen brought you home. Since Nezuko and Tanjiro’s meeting with the widely-dreaded Muzan Kibutsuji it seemed that demons were on the move, with all of the hashira constantly away from their estates nowadays. Your bi-weekly girls’ days with the Love and Insect hashiras, the Butterfly Girls, and your wives had become obsolete in the past few months, no one having the time to sit down over tea and homemade treats while talking simple gossip.

With your spouses’ gone, your sparse social time now non-existent, and the needling baby fever increasing, you felt quite out of sorts in matters possible. Your mood seemed to be worsening by the day and no matter what you or anyone else did to lift it, it only made everything worse. Nana-san and Kiki-san had attempted to whittle your feelings and thoughts from you, seeming to be worried about your increasingly troubling behavior and attitude and you would simply brush them away and seal up the cracks in the mask of cheerful indifference you wore nowadays.

Perched on the edge of the back engawa, you were doing your best to soothe your sad, heavy thoughts by busying yourself with clothes that needed mending, specifically Tengen’s uniform at the moment. Gliding the needle to and fro without a word, you watched as your mending gradually came to fruition, having been working on this particularly nasty gash on the left pant leg for nearly an hour now. You had been tempted to scrap the bottoms altogether, with the gash being so large, but you had ultimately decided against it and gotten to work. Much to your annoyance, you had gotten a late start to your day, waking well past the sunrise, and it felt as if you were behind on everything since you roused from your heavy slumber. Today also was a bit hard to swallow solely due to the fact that it had been nearly three weeks since you last saw any of your spouses, Makio having left to assist Tengen, Hinatsuru, and Suma who had already taken off to the east for yet another mission. That meant much of your downtime had been spent alone and longing for at least one of their attentions’, damn near crying as you laid alone underneath your shared gigantic comforter in a bed most definitely not made from a singular individual.

A soft breeze danced by your sitting form as you successfully tied the finishing knot, promptly sticking the needle into the pin cushion resting at your left side and adding your current spool of thread to the small basket beside it. Once that was finished, you lifted the trousers from where they laid in your lap, taking your handiwork in with a calculating gaze to ensure you had done well.

“Your work is remarkable as ever, spirit flower.”

A squeak of surprise left your lips as you jumped to your feet, eyes growing wide at the sight of your husband’s hulking figure standing just a few feet from your current position, a fond smirk sitting on his sculpted face.

“Tengen, you scared me!” Swatting at the man in retribution, you found your wrist being caught without a speck of effort, a pout sitting on your painted lips as a smirk sat on Tengen’s.

The Sound Hashira pulled your wrist towards his large frame, causing your own body to fall into his own, his face only inches away from your own. “My apologies, my sweet one, but I just couldn’t resist myself. Your reactions are always a spectacle to behold!”

Huffing in indignation, you turned your face from the man, “You’re just lucky I finished the stitching of your trousers or I could have pricked myself!”

“I believe someone of your prestigious pedigree could manage to avoid such an unflashy incident, spirit flower,” Calloused fingers came to gently take hold of your chin, lovingly guide your face to once again gaze at Tengen’s handsome one, fond adoration deep as the ocean present in his hypnotizing pools of cerise. “You are stunning as ever, my love, just as any wife of mine could be. I can only hope you haven’t worked yourself too hard in my absence, hmm?”

It was well-known to everyone who knew of your existence that neither Tengen or the girls were overly pleased with how hard you worked yourself sometimes, the four of them often arguing for you to rest more and allow the staff to handle estate matters. Such protective behavior increased following your attack but you had simply thanked them for expressing their concerns and went about your typical business. Your response to their objections was something that still proved to be a sore subject that was rarely broached in hopes of avoiding an ultimate conflict between the five of you. However, it seemed that Tengen was now willing to open Pandora’s Box.

You chose to humor him instead of addressing the jab he had just thrown, playfully rolling your eyes with a chuckle, moving to touch the tip of his nose with your own. “I minded my limits, Tengen. You don’t need to worry so much, love.”

“I’m afraid we’ll have to agree to disagree, spirit flower,” Head dipping down to your neck, Tengen’s teeth playfully biting at the flesh below your well-sculpted jaw, enticing a wave of warm pleasure to thrum within your thighs.

A gasp of your husband’s name escaped your name at the feeling, body melting willingly into his chest as your head flew backwards, allowing the shinobi full access to your neck, something Tengen wasted no time in taking advantage of.

Teeth nipping at the sweet spot between your shoulder and neck, Tengen’s chest rumbled with want. “Such a beautiful image of exquisiteness you are, spirit flower. Been fantasizing about you since my departure, being to taste your gorgeous body on my tongue, to feel you like this.”

“What a good girl you are.” His right hand came to seductively fondle your left breast, his mouth coming to rest at the shell of your ear whilst pleasured whimpers escaped your muffled lips. “Show your daddy how good you are, spirit flower, let me hear your beautiful symphony of wantonness.”

“Hnn, Tengen, please!”

You moved to press your lips against the man’s very own, tongues wrestling for dominance which the hashira ultimately obtained, adjusting your bodies so your hips came to straddle him from where he laid on the engawa. His member met your core deliciously, inciting a high pitched moan from your lips when he grounded it against your pelvis just right.

Another moan escaped you as you pulled your lips away, voice shaking with pleasure as the man returned his attention to your neck. “Want you, Tengen, want your baby!”

What had been an intense fire of lustful pleasure seemed to dwindle down to a mere spark in just a second, Tengen freezing beneath you and in turn halting his ministrations on your neck.

“What did you just say?”

Not even noticing what you had said in your lust-drunken state, you looked to your husband in worry. “Tengen, what is it?”

“What did you say?” The air grew tense with his question, your walls instantly rising in possible need of defense when the man refused to make eye contact with you.

Sitting up, you forced your urges from the forefront of your mind and dug within the rich earth of your subconscious for whatever Tengen could be suggesting and it was in that moment that realization hit you like a kunai to the heart. You froze from your place atop your husband, mouth hanging wide in horror that you had let something so damning escape your lips-!

“I-it was nothing, Tengen, just some foreplay, that’s all!” Your veins froze at seeing your husband your husband unable to look at you, his face bearing not even a shred of any emotion, something that only occurred when the man was incredibly disturbed. “Tengen?”

His hands came to grasp your waist in a way you could not describe as harshly or softly, an even medium of urgency present in his movements as he set you to the side without a word. “Tengen please, I-!”

Your words fell short at seeing the usually exuberant man enter the house without a word, never turning to look at your messily dressed person, tears pricking at the edges of your (e/c) irises, desperation slamming against the bars of your ribcage.

Scrambling to your feet, you fervently raced to stop the man with an outstretched hand, your fingers coming to wrap around his left wrist in anxious despair. “Tengen wait! Just let me explain-!”

“You don’t need to explain anything.”

Time seemed to come to a halt around you, your gaze never leaving Tengen’s rigid body, internally screaming for him to turn around, to just give you damn moment to try to mend the rift-! Much to your relief, the man slowly turned to face you, but the moment his fuchsia orbs met yours you knew there was nothing you could do.

“I understand that remaining home alone without myself or our wives can grow lonesome, Y/N. The life you presently live is not one I wish to provide you in the slightest, so cold and deplorable.” He ignored your attempts to object, continuing forward with raging bitterness on his tongue. “But it frustrates me that you dare risk bringing a child, one of our flesh and blood into this demon-infested world, simply to quell your loneliness! You have seen what the world has to offer individuals incapable of defending themselves like yourself! It is already a constant burden on my shoulders to keep innocent civilians safe, let alone keep you out of trouble when you continually disregard my orders! I am sorry your waste of a father gave you to me as payment, that I cannot provide the stability and family you desperately crave! Perhaps I should have left you to a husband that could satisfy your wants since it seems I nor Hinatsuru, Makio, or Suma aren’t enough for you!”

The silence that followed his violent was deafening. Tears cascaded down the plains of your (s/c) cheeks in a downpour, shaking hands clutched tightly to your chest as you found your world crumbling beneath your feet. This is what your husband truly thought of you, a person so egotistical and shallow that they would only care about themselves and no one else? That you were so problematic that Tengen had pondered returning you to the man who neglected and abused you for years, the very same man he swore to kill if he were ever to see him again? Were you selfish for being lonely, for wanting a child that possessed Tengen’s silvery locks and your (e/c) eyes, for dreaming of a day where your spouses’ came home permanently with demons eradicated? Did the girls view you in the same light?

Tengen was lightly panting from his rant as you simply stared at him, unable to look away from the man you loved, the one who doted on you and your wives without a second thought. The same man that loved you supposedly though it seemed he simply tolerated you, seeing how much of a burden you were to him and his wives. He was already so tense from his work, body weighed down by countless responsibilities and guilt-ridden thoughts, the shinobi didn’t need you adding to the fire nipping at his heels.

Quiet as a mouse, you stepped away, curling into yourself in an attempt to get away from the Sound Hashira. “I am sorry to have been such a burden to you, Tengen-sama. It was never my intention to cause you nor your wives so much grief. I-I’ll ensure my things are packed and ready for transport by sundown, so as to not add to your building responsibilities, my lord.”

You slipped past the man before he could utter another word, hurrying inside without abandon and down the hall to your designated craft room. The door was urgently flung open and the moment it was eased closed, and your body was bathed within darkness, emotion heavy sobs threatened to pour from your lips like a waterfall, unable to be contained. Just one slip up had cost you everything: your husband, your wives, your home, your heart. Why could you just not keep your mouth shut?!

Unable to answer the question on the tip of your tongue, you quietly padded over to the closet and slid the door aside, revealing the item you never thought you would need again. The leather of the travel bag was coated in thick dust, testifying how long it had been since you had need of it, it having been three years since you arrived at the Uzui Estate with it in hand. How terrified you had been, so scared to upset your new husband, to do something wrong that would enact his wrath just as it always did your father’s, and you had finally done just that.

Your hands moved without thought, your consciousness elsewhere as you packed only the essentials, not wanting to weigh down your bag too much in case the journey ahead of you was long and arduous. By the time you completed the task at hand, the sun had come to sit in the center of the sky, signifying that it was now noon, which meant you had plenty of time to leave and seek shelter before the sun set.

Taking your travel bag in hand, you stood to your feet and exited the room as quietly as possible, sliding it shut behind issue. No one came across your path as you drifted silently down the estate halls and out the front door, the only sound being the soft chatter emanating from kitchen at the end of the back hallway. Your heart slammed aggressively within its prison as you traveled down the stone path with wet cheeks, never looking back at the life you were leaving behind. All you could do upon slipping out the front gate and onto the main road was that Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru would forgive you for leaving without saying goodbye one last time. Where you were going, you had no idea. However, you did know that you could no longer cause the loves of your life so much anguish, and with that in mind, you began your trek into the unknown with a broken heart and a shattered marriage in tow.

~~~

Love you guys! Comments, reblogs, etc. always appreciated!

#uzui tengen x reader #suma x reader #makio x reader #hinatsuru x reader #tengen uzui #uzui tengen #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #tengen #uzui #hinatsuru #makio #kny #demon slayer uzui #x reader #reader insert #tengen uzui x y/n #tengen uzui x reader #angst #marriage problems #kimetsu no yaiba uzui #uzui hinatsuru #uzui makio #why did i do this #past trauma #uzui suma

[hiatuswhore]

♕ Cₕₒₛₑₙ By ₜₕₑ Gₒdₛ

A/N: So you can picture the characters however you like. Here is what I was picture in my head for some of the characters. Ontari and Daltis. Please give me feedback! Should I continue?

SUMMARY: You fight like Azgeda. To some a compliment to others an insult. A land of warriors. Men, women, and children alike. The best ally in the game of thrones, the winning piece.

WORD COUNT: 1.9K

WARNING: None

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The Raven arrives, sending the Matriarch of House Azgeda into complete disarray. Ontari Azgeda’s brisk pace matches her fiddling fingers. She rounds the corner, a deep sigh leaving her. The long, stretched corridor exhibits a colorful display of sunset yellows, forest greens, and pale pinks. There he is, her handmaiden near skipping to keep up.

“Faster Ashter or (Y/n) will best you again,” Cassian’s voice booms through the courtyard as he stares down at his children. (Y/n) holds her staff behind her back, grinning ear to ear. She’s fast, much faster than her brother, and her awareness of this does little to curb her amusement. He’s impatient and eager to prove he can beat his sister, disheartening desperation.

“I’ll bet tonight’s dessert that brother will yield,” Taliya smirks, her eyes on Daltis, who towers her. She’s a clever one, a pretty flower with lurking thorns. Daltis crosses his arms without a word, often the shadow of his sisters' courage and brothers' determination. The reserved Azgeda, he watches closely as (Y/n) rushes at Ashter. His parries are a fumbling battle of staying on his feet. He manages to steady himself, putting most of his weight on his right knee while holding his sword against (Y/n)’s. Using his strength to his advantage despite giving her the high ground.

“Only a fool would give away their dessert by betting against (Y/n). Far too stubborn to lose,” Taliya chuckles while Daltis’s gaze moves up toward his parents. He narrows his eyes at his mother, watching as her face hardens before passing something over. His father stares down at his hands before his face falls, and the two walk off together without a word.

“I yield!” Ashter growls. Lying on his back, he ignores (Y/n)’s hand as she offers it. Daltis frowns. In mere seconds he’s missed the majority of his entertainment for the day.

“Do not be a sore loser, brother. You wield knowledge as I wield a sword!” (Y/n)’s half smile covers the laugh that tickles her chest. Ashter rolls his eyes as he helps himself from the ground. “It’s not a jest! I laugh only at your whining.”

“Whose turn is it to cover for the upcoming name day?” Ashter asks. (Y/n) shrugs as Taliya crosses her arms, murmuring she covered last time.

“It’s our name day, so it certainly cannot be us,” (Y/n) says, tilting her head. She looks at her younger brother with a raised brow.

“I am pretty sure it is my turn, but should we truly be sneaking off to a party? I enjoy this for each of our name days, but we all know mother is worried,” Daltis says. Taliya shrugs, her matter-of-fact tone earning chuckles, “It’s mother. She’s always worried.”

“Lords all across the Westeros have been sending for (Y/n)’s hand. Every move she makes will be watched,” Daltis says, earning a frown from Ashter. Taliya grabs (Y/n)’s hand leaning onto her sister's arm.

“Since when did that ever stop us before?” The glint in (Y/n)’s eyes near contagious as each Azgeda child's contemplation falls. Their grins communicate far more than any word ever can before dispersing to their chambers.

(Y/n) rests her eyes, the hot water of her bath painting her skin red. Wafts of mint leaf keep her sinuses clear and skin tingling. Her handmaiden continues to remind her how soon supper draws near. Still, she rests her eyes without a care in the world. Allowing the water to swallow the realities of the coming days whole.

(Y/n) settles on her loose beige gown, the neckline revealing her collarbones. The sheer waterfall sleeves leave enough room to combat the humidity. Her hair coiling and curling in a messy ensemble that holds together beautifully with a gold clip.

“Nice of you to join us,” Cassian smirks as (Y/n) takes the empty seat to his right. The candles decorate the room creating a soft glow on her skin. A light heat adds to a particular coziness one only finds at home. Ontari bites the inside of her cheek as she eyes her children.

“My apologies for the tardiness. I was exhausted from the beating I gave Ashter,” Taliya’s hand flies to her chest, her laugh a crossroad between amusement and juice down the wrong pipe. Daltis grins, shaking his head silently. Ashter glares daggers at his sister while she nibbles on a piece of bread. Ontari sighed as her husband hid his grin behind his glass.

“You exaggerate!” Ashter exclaims, slamming his fist against the table. Cassian swallows his amusement as he meets his wife’s pointed stare.

“Humility is a virtue and most honorable. Apologize to your brother,” His voice gruff. (Y/n) rolls her eyes reaching for her cup. The room stills as both Ontari and Cassian eye their daughter. She huffs before turning to her brother.

“I am sorry,” (Y/n) says, smiling sweetly as Taliya snickers under her breath. A pregnant pause holding the room before her muttering fills the silence, “We shared a womb but not skill in combat.”

“You are incorrigible!” Ashter whines, throwing a strawberry, then another in her direction.

“Stop throwing fruit at me!” She exclaims. Both ignore their father in a battle of dramatics at the dinner table.

“Enough! Both of you. Your father and I have some things to discuss with you all,” The table halts at the sound of Ontari’s voice. Her stern tongue and perfect posture command the room.

“Is everything okay?” Daltis breaks the silence, his gaze bouncing between his parents.

“Today we received ravens. Both Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra’s families have announced their attendance at Ashter and (Y/n)’s name day celebration,” Ontari says, looking at her husband. (Y/n)’s the first to turn to their father. He takes a painstakingly slow sip of his wine as though his family does not wait for him to shed light on the situation.

“I know it has been many years since you lot last saw the Princes, but it will fair much differently now. (Y/n), Ashter, you will both be six and ten. We will need to be taking marriage proposals more seriously. Taliya, you will be three and ten in the next couple of moons. Daltis, you are four and ten. None of you are small children any longer. Which is why we decided it is time you all be privy to the politics that unnerve the kingdom,” Cassian’s brash tone, unlike anything he has ever used in the presence of his children. He speaks at a drawn-out pace, making certain to make eye contact with each of you. His presence commanding. Often pausing between sentences as if he chooses his words carefully. He looks to his wife, the two of them speaking without words under the lost gazes of their children.

“We have soldiers, gold, and grain. Our family, our house, is a resourceful ally. An ally that will be sought. Queen Alicent has been very adamant about (Y/n)’s hand to her second son. As Princess Rhaenyra has suggested (Y/n) to her oldest and Taliya’s hand to her second son. We suspect the Royal family seeks us for our resources. We are the House of Azgeda, chosen by the gods. We will not be political pawns. Keep your heads up and your eyes sharp,” Ontari finishes keeping a close eye on her daughters. A stillness holds the room, dinner resembling battle plans rather than a family gathering. “Many will tease the idea of friendship in your face. In a time of pending war, always remember there are no friends to be had. We are House Azgeda.”

(Y/n) mirrors her mother, perfect posture with a blank stare, hiding whatever lies beneath the surface. Taliya follows her sister, expertly covering any semblance of a reaction. Amusement dances across her lips, her hands fidgeting ceaselessly beneath the table. Both girls appear quite pristine, a perfect reflection of noble ladies.

“Your mother and I need each of you on your best behavior. We play the game of thrones in the coming weeks. Play the game, or it shall play you,” Cassian rises to his feet, his voice booming through the hall and cup high in the air. He keeps his eyes on his wife, a gentle smile painting his lips.

“Chosen by the gods,” She says, her children following in unison with their cups up high. It takes several minutes before the looming reality of what comes fades into the distance.

“—if anyone else says boorish oaf, they’re getting punched,” Ashter exclaims. Daltis meets (Y/n)’s gaze, then Taliya’s, with a growing smile.

“Boorish oaf.”

“Boorish oaf.”

“Boorish oaf,” The hall fills with laughter as Ashter grumbles to himself. An easy target with his little patience. Ontari defends her firstborn from the taunting of her younger children. Doing her best to shake the uneasiness that creeps up her spine. She smiles softly, watching as (Y/n) details her horseback ride with her sworn protector. Her ethereal nature, which she often hides from everyone besides family. A ferocity like Ontari’s mother with Ontari’s confidence, a rather dangerous mix.

“Very ladylike sister,” Daltis’ lopsided grin earns an eye roll from (Y/n). Ontari turns to her middle child with a warm smile. The observant boy often overlooked, taking his father's calm nature.

“Not to broach this topic again but will they bring their dragons?” Taliya lights up at the prospect of seeing the large beasts. While Cassian voices his distaste for the creatures scaring the common folk, Ontari bites back her grin. Her adventurous baby girl, eager and fearless. A perfect combination of herself and Cassian.

“I imagine if they’re hoping for your hands in marriage, they will utilize all their resources to convince father,” Ashter says, looking at his father. Ontari sighs at her firstborn son, a weak smile taking her lips. His unrelenting pursuits of proving himself in combat shadowing his best asset, his mind.

“Not quite, son. Our house is one of warriors. The Targaryens sued for peace when Aegon the Conquered failed to take our home and lands. Not a single person in our family has not been trained in swordsmanship, girls and boys alike. Your sister shall marry a suitor of her choosing when she deems it ready,” Cassian ruffles his son's hair as he speaks. A lightheartedness consumes the room.

“What if I never wish to marry?” (Y/n) eyes father with a wary glint, watching as he tilts his head as though he contemplates it over.

“There are alternatives that I am certain you will loathe. Picture it, Tari. Our daughter as a septa!” Beaming with sardonic joy, Cassian's smile widens at the sight of his daughter's horror. Ashter and Daltis covered their laughs under their mother's warning gaze.

“Very funny, father. Might I suggest the title of jester would be better suited than lord,” (Y/n) says, Taliya’s hand flying to her lip with a sharp exhale. A hearty laugh leaves Cassian as he flicks a strawberry in her direction. (Y/n) turns to Ashter, “I guess we no longer have to dispute you as his child.”

“Very mature, sister.” (Y/n) blows her twin a kiss, earning a shake of his head. Supper continues for not much longer before they all disperse to bed.

Barring her chamber door (Y/n), light her fireplace and several candles. Her mind wide awake as she changes into her nightgown. At her desk, she grabs her large brown book in it detailing the histories of the great Azgedan commanders. A persistent fantasy from the age of six to now. Lady Commander (Y/n) Azgeda, of the great Azegedan army.

#house of the dragon #house of dragons imagine #house of the dragon imagine #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targeryan #alicent hightower #aegon targaryen #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #Rhaenyra targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #jacaerys targaryen imagine #lucerys targaryen imagine #Alicent Hightower imagine #jacaerys velaryon imagine #lucerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys x reader #Aemond x reader #Aegon x reader

[houseonthemoon]

Death of a fictional character: How one characters death can ruin an entire franchise. Pt. 2

Neji x Hinata x Naruto

The fact that the writer needed Neji to die for Naruto to be with Hinata is a major red flag to me. Naruto always thought of Hinata then less of a friend and more of acquaintance nothing more and I’m not saying those feelings couldn’t have developed, but the fact that trauma was inflicted for those feelings to develop really irked me the wrong way and made it seemed rushed and rather forced. I can’t trust Naruto’s feelings when for years he goes on and on about Sakura and at the last arc it’s Hinata! It makes her look like a second choice. Now if Neji had lived I think Naruto could’ve actually gone on to be something better a stronger wiser Hokage. In Boruto he is somehow magically one of the weakest characters now in the franchise. Dare I say I would have preferred him single. To be single he could have been like Kakashi, strong and powerful, mysterious and dangerous. But no he is a neglectful father with spoiled children who I can’t stand through just clips alone . If Neji lived I actually would imagine he would have married Hinata (and no I don’t think he liked ten ten. If he did the writer may have spared him) and together they could have improved the Hyuga clan which to my knowledge hasn’t changed to this day. They would have married closed the gap and just imagine changing the clan destroying the seal mark and Neji himself could have taught his children the next generation of heirs and when Kaguya came along she could see her (x?) great grandson and just using her powers whipe away the seal mark. HOW AMAZING WOULD THAT HAVE BEEN!

(Art by unknown) Not to mention how beautiful Neji and Hinatas children would have been.

(Art by Oivsyo) Omg! The amazing potential! Many of you may think the kids now are great but are they really?

Boruto looks to much like Naruto and therefore we are reminded of the previous franchise and Himawari is basically a copy and paste of Hinata down to the hair style.

They are a perfect Carbon Copy. Not their own individual person. Sure you put a child next to its mother and you can see their similarities but never a perfect copy Boruto, with everything down to the phonetics (sounds) of his fathers name is an exact copy of his dad. We don’t see that with Naruto himself compared to his own parents. He looks and sounds different.

Now before you call me a hypocrite, It would work in the Hyuga clan because let’s be honest they all look alike. Lol

Neji could have changed the Hyuga clan, Kaguya comes along and all Hyugas could have been effected by this. A major battle perhaps where they are force to choose a side. Fight along side their ancestral princess god or protect the home they have always known. What a waste of an arc.

What do you guys think?

Edit: hey guys the colorful art Nejihina piece belongs to Oivsyo go over to their page and show some love ( I didn’t even realize it was Oivsyo) if you are the creator of the sketch leave a message so I can give you credit.

#neji hyuga #nejihina #hinata hyuga #hyugacest #neji x hinata #anime

[shibumi-tanuki]

Here it is: the Christ Thorndyke rewrite.

Prepare yourselves, I have SO much to say about this

Name: Chris Thorndyke

Age: 13 years old (season 1 and 2)

Being the only child of a wealthy CEO and renounced model, Chris was born to a life of luxury and solitude. He doesn't remember either of his parents showing up for the entrance ceremony of his first day of primary school, nor for any academic events that happened in the years to come. His birthdays were the few times he got to speak with his parents in a way that wasn't through rushed phone calls right before his bed time or when he was due to leave for school (his parents couldn't care less for keeping up with time zone differences while they were abroad). It didn't help he had no friends at school; at first, dozens of children from school would show up for his birthday parties, but they always asked to see what Chris' parents had gifted him— unbeknownst to them these were more apology gifts for not being around most of the year than birthday gifts. However, Chris didn't care much for the mountains of toys and games— after a while, they got boring anyway. Instead, he proposed to go play in the park or venture out into the nearby woods in search of adventure, but ultimately resigned to forcibly smiling as his "friends" took turns using a remote control race car per their request.

Chris always liked the outdoors: It wasn't stuffy, and he didn't need to watch where he ran in fear of knocking over an expensive vase and being chastised by the maids and Mr. Tanaka for it. For a while, he forgot who we even was, and the only thing on his mind was seeing how far he could climb up a tree or what crevices and natural passageways he might encounter. Of course, it never lasted. Eventually a maid would come out looking for him and off he was to take a shower and have dinner by himself. Again.

Now, it wasn't like he was completely alone. He had his grandfather! Yes, an energetic man for his age, always interested in engineering and robotics, sometimes to the point of forgetting to sleep or eat. Chris always thought of him as the second coolest person he knew (his uncle Sam was first), but that didn't change the fact he did he wish his grandfather would take more breaks, or even spend time with him for a change...

At any rate, time passed by, and Chris grew.

Each year, his parents became more busy as their fame grew, and so did Chris' resentment towards them.

Other kids got to see their parents cheer for them at school music presentations and stage plays, they got to run into their arms every day after school and go home to a cozy home where they could tell their family about their day over dinner.

But not Chris.

Chris, on the other hand, could expect to see an indifferent maid holding up a camera with not an ounce of emotion on her face or Mr. Tanaka doing the same thing. "That was great, master Christopher," they would say, and Chris would try to make himself small as a flurry of eyes from parents and kids alike turned to him.

There were whispers of amazement, others of pity, and the boy hated them all the same.

Why? He wondered. Why was he only known as his parents' son? As the kid who had everything he could ask for yet wanted nothing of it? Why couldn't he just have been born a normal kid to a normal family in the first place?

And so he sought an escape.

He neglected all the new clothes his parents sent him from overseas and opted for comfortable clothes he bought on his own with his allowance, setting out for the city's skating park where he'd spent his afternoons perfecting tricks and jumps that would have had the maids and Mr. Tanaka physically stop him from even thinking about attempting. It was his sanctuary, his release, and boy did Chris fall in love with the exhilarating feeling that came with it.

One night, however, his life would be turned upside down by an unlikely encounter with a blue and snarky hedgehog...

#chris thorndyke #sonic x #sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic #sonic the hedghog fanart #shibumi rants #shibumi arts #traditional art #will reblog later with lots of bullet points of facts and stuff

[mageofseven]

Repressed Love: A DiaLuci Love Story

Chapter 18

Tag list: @astroseuss @zarakem @brielle043 @missloserqueen

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

And so Satan moved into the castle. Diavolo made sure his almost-stepson had the best room he could offer; or rather, the best rooms.

Satan's room was connected via archway to a second room, about two or three sizes bigger than the room he was to sleep in. This was the room for all of his books, both the ones brought over from House of Lamentation and any new ones he might aquire.

This was a request from Lucifer, knowing how much his son cared for his books and therefore wanted a proper space for the blonde to put them that was close, where Satan could feel they are safe.

The father did give one rule for his son to abide by in his room though: the books stay in the library section; only books that he was actively reading were allowed in his bedroom section. The pride demon didn't want his son's new room to look like his old one. The blonde's room at HoL was a safety hazard and the dad couldn't tell you how many times his son has accidentally knocked over a big stack of books and was stuck under the avalanche that followed.

Lucifer...his heart couldn't handle anything else happening to his son right now so he was grateful the young man agreed to his rule.

Though the reason for this move was heartbreaking, Lucifer really did enjoy living with his son; the closer Satan was to him, the more at peace the man was. Both father and son needed each other now more than ever.

Each day during Audriana's nap, the father-son duo would be in the ancient library within the castle, the one with documents dating as far back as the late Primordial Era. It was part of the Royal family's duty to protect the rarest and most delicate written works, both those of nonfiction and fiction alike.

No one outside of the Royal Family have ever set foot in this specific library, a fact that was still technically true since Luce was now engaged to Diavolo, something the blonde was begrudgingly accepting.

Now, why were they in one of the Devildom's most protected locations, you may ask? For answers, of course.

Lucifer wasn't someone to give up easily, despite the guilty and hopeless thoughts that plagued him. Even if doctors didn't know enough about his son's condition, surely some record from the past did. This man was desperate to save his son.

However, Satan made no attempt to search for answers that might aid him. Instead, he read from old books and ancient parchment on topics from his wildest dreams. Even when dying, the wrath demon just needed to learn everything he could; it brought him comfort in his younger years and even now during a time he saw as his remaining, he found comfort in it.

Lucifer sighed.

"You're not even going to pretend to help me, are you?"

"This is your project; not mine." The blonde shrugged, as if this 'project' didn't concern his own life.

The blonde was sitting on a bench, currently reading a record from the one of the deeper sections.

The father huffed and decided to climb down from the latter he was on and sit next to his son.

"What did you decide to read then?"

"A personal account from the Loving Enlightenment period." He answered with a frown. "So many children were abandoned in the end...many more taken from their parents."

"Satan..." Lucifer frowned back. Somehow, it really didn't feel appropriate for him to read about such an event.

"So this is how humans were made." The young man said aloud, more to himself than his father before he looked up to meet his eyes. "Your Father really knocked up Lord Diavolo's ancestor just to abandon his new children in a third realm?"

Lucifer pursed his lips.

"From my understanding, yes." The older demon admitted. "Though it happened long before I was born."

The blonde's eyes dropped back to the page, though Lucifer could tell his son was not reading.

"Satan?"

The blonde pursed his lips, mirroring his father from moments ago.

"Were...were you ever tempted to?" He asked quietly. "When I was born, did you ever think of getting rid of me?"

After all, most children like him and his sister were cast aside as soon as they were born. Not many were strong enough to raise children born from their own trauma after all.

"Not even for a second." Lucifer answered, not missing a beat. "I...I was scared, confused even...but I have been raising children since I myself was a child. The idea of...sending you away. In my mind, that wasn't an option."

Lucifer still remembered that night, experiencing a pain so strong that he blacked out, only to wake up in a pool of his own blood with a tiny baby who wailed in pain and needed his comfort.

"You know...you were born in this very castle."

Satan raised his head, his whole body tense.

"I...what do you mean?"

"I gave birth to you my first night in the Devildom." Luce explained. "At first, we had no home here and had to live at the castle with Diavolo. I was still...well, what happened to my sister was obviously still fresh in my mind and I tried bearing that pain on my own. I retired early to my room because I just...couldn't keep my composure any longer. I was angry. Angry at myself for failing my sister, angry at my Father for starting this and wanting her dead. Then you grew and fought your way out of me, so strong yet so helpless...and that's when Diavolo found me."

The blonde's eyes widened at this, but chose not to interrupt his father.

"He knew what happened to me better than I did." The pride demon gave a small laugh, smiling with his eyes as he thought back. "He could just sense I wasn't okay and made sure to check on me. I still remember how worried and flustered he was from finding me like that. Despite it all, he still healed me up, got both of us cleaned, and never left my side that night. I barely knew him nor did he know me, but he worried for me all the same, took care of me when I needed it, despite the fact that no one has ever taken care of me before."

"Why?" His son asked. "Why would he care when he didn't know you yet?"

"Because that was who Diavolo was; who he is. He's more angelic than most angels." Luce was smiling, truly smiling as he thought of his fiancé and it took his son off guard. "He could of let me die alone in that room; he did not. He could have let me lay awake and worry about you all night on my own; he did not. He laid with me all night, assuring me that I was fine, that you were fine...that I could give you a good life. He comforted me and wouldn't let me despair on my own. That...that was the night I fell in love with him..."

Of course, Lucifer was attracted to the prince long before that night. Luce even knew Diavolo for a while when he was still an angel; the night his sister almost died was not their first meeting...just the one that changed everything.

Satan... didn't know how to respond to all of this, to his father speaking so lovingly about...him.

Luce looked down at his son, noticing a scowl on his face.

"Satan?" The father gave a worried expression to his son, who turned away from him.

"I don't like him." The blonde admitted. "I...I never cared either way for him before, but since...since my body started whatever it's been doing, I've hated him. I don't like him near you two."

Lucifer watched his son for a long moment, trying to find the right response to such crushing words.

"Why...why do you feel this way?"

Satan gave a bitter laugh.

"Since when have I ever understood my own emotions?"

"Well, what else do you feel?" His dad encouraged, wanting to help his son through this.

"I...I don't know." He admitted. "My chest gets tight around him. Every time he gets close to you or Audriana, I want to break free from my skin. I could be happy, or at least content in the moment, and then he walks into the room and I feel like I'm being choked. I feel like...like I need a peaceful moment with you. It's just supposed to be us; you, me, and Audri."

"And why must it only be us?"

"Because..." Satan closed his eyes. "Because we feel like a family. I never felt a part of one before...when I was younger, I didn't think you wanted me and I sure as hell knew your brothers didn't."

"Satan..." The pride demon pulled his son into a hug. "We are a family. I am your father. Audriana is your sister. My brothers are your uncles. And Diavolo...he's going to be your stepfather, but he's cared about you since the day you were born."

The blonde didn't respond, just buried his face into his father's embrace.

The two stayed like that for a minute or two till the alarm on Lucifer's D.D.D. went off.

The older man pulled back to reach into his pocket and turn off the alarm.

"You're sister will be waking up soon." Luce explained. "Do you remember where you got that book from?"

The blonde nodded and rose to put the book back so they could head back to Audriana's room.

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me diavolo #obey me dialuci

[queentheweeb]

Shoto Todoroki X Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: This is a request and your quirk is exactly like scarlet witch meaning you can control the chaos

-------------------------------------------------------

Ever since your quirk appeared at the young age of four everyone was scared of you. Everyone always thought you were the reincarnation of evil and that you were going to be nothing but a villain. Including your own parents who always conducted experiments on you to try and 'fix' you. It hurt your feelings a lot and, you always ended up crying and upset. You always wanted to hide away from the world and, your confidence was shot. It became harder and harder every day to ignore the remarks, the fearful looks from both adults and children alike, and the fact that your parents didn't accept you for you. It was tough. You didn't have any friends growing up and the bullying just got worse in middle school. When they tried to get physical you cut that out threatening them by using your quirk. Did you get in trouble? Yes. Was it worth it? Yes. Sort of. Did the snide remarks ever stop? No. However, you no longer had someone physically get in the way of your dreams. You were going to be a hero out of spite of everyone who told you that you couldn't. Out of a whim you applied for U.A and participated in the entrance exam. You saw a lot of talented students and, whoever that green-haired kid was if the two of you got in you hoped he was in your class. He seemed really friendly. Fast forward to the future you did get into U.A and you were the only one from your middle school who did. 

Flashback

"I am proud to admit that we have a student amongst us going to Japan's most prestigious heroics school." A murmur broke out as you stared at the window wanting everything to be over with already. It was making you nervous.

"Who do you think it is?" Your bullies were talking about it

"It must have been Ryu-Kun."

"Yeah, he's the strongest one out of all of us and is the only one who could possibly get in." Ah, bless their poor hearts. They were going to flip when the teacher announced it was you. 

"Y/N L/N got accepted into the heroics department of U.A" It was a pin drop for a total of three seconds before the shit hit the fan. It was a loud uproar of all the students attacking you. Of how a villain who can't even control their quirk fully got into the heroics department. You ended up missing the rest of the classes that day and left to go back home.

End Flashback

"For today's lesson, we are not learning anything in the classroom, suit up and meet me at Ground Beta." You were snapped out of your musings by the dismissal as you gathered your things and walked out of the classroom with everyone else.

"This is so exciting! What do you think Aizawa Sensei is going to have us do?" You were curious as well. Hopefully, nothing strenuous since you still didn't have total control of your quirk. Now, that would be disastrous. 

"What else is he going to do besides have us spar shitty hair." You rolled your eyes. A typical Bakugo response. Obviously, he was going to have us train but, there is a reason why he's going to have us do what he wants the class to do. You were joined by Ochako, Izuku, and Shoto who were brainstorming as well. You glanced over at Shoto sharing a secret smile with him which he returned. No one in the class really knew that the two of you were dating besides his close friends which were also, your friends. The two of you weren't entirely ready for everyone to know since the two of you were still taking it slow. He had a lot of emotional baggage and so did you so, there was a lot of unpacking that still needed to be undone. One step at a time that's all you can say really. 

"I heard he was going to have us spar with people we normally don't spar with. It's to exploit each other's weaknesses and to improve our hand-to-hand combat as well as our coordination." You nodded along with what Izuku and Ochako were talking about while internally panicking. How was this going to work out? Who was Aizawa going to put you together with? You weren't sure if this was going to be a recipe for improvement or a recipe for disaster. Only one way to find out. Soon enough everyone was on Ground Beta where Aizawa was waiting along with All Might and Principal Nezu. Strange that the principal was here and not one of the other U.A teachers.

"It took you long enough." He cleared his throat "Principal Nezu will be observing today's sparring lessons. The reason that you will be with different sparring partners is to get a feel of everyone's strengths and weaknesses so that in case the League of Villains or any villains for that case was to attack you all can still have each other's back. Regardless of what many may think sometimes you have no choice but to work with other heroes both on the field and off the field." That actually made perfect sense, especially since All Might's last fight was during the Kamino Ward incident. All kinds of villains are taking advantage of the fact that the symbol of peace is no longer a hero and, plus the League of Villains has an unhealthy obsession with Class 1-A. "All Might will be listing off your sparring partners." You weren't looking forward to this. You normally sparred with Kirishima, Shoji, Izuku, and Ochako no one else. You were hoping to anyone who listened that you did not become Bakugo's sparring partner. That would be a recipe for disaster. 

"Bakugo and Sero." Oh Thank God, it wasn't you. "L/N and Todoroki you two are next." Oh, that is not bad at all. This was going to be just fine. The two of you stood next to each other waiting for Bakugo and Sero to finish, which thankfully didn't take too long courtesy of Bakugo.

"Don't go easy on me, my love." You winked at Shoto causing a light blush to cover his cheeks. 

"I wouldn't dream of it." You both got into position waiting for Aizawa to blow the whistle. The two of you jumped at the same exchanging blows back and forth, both on the offense and defense. This wasn't going to be a short match and you felt that the more determined and tired you got the more out of control your quirk was getting.

'Please not now. Please don't go crazy. Please!' You were going through it in your mind as you yanked Shoto a little too harshly to the right making him slam into a tree. You went to stop but a splitting pain went through your head making you stop and clutch at it in pain. "Noooo."

"Y/N?" It was Shoto but you couldn't really focus on him, the voices in your head were getting too loud. 'Villain, monster. You'll never be a hero. You should just die.' It was all getting too much and the image of being strapped to a metal table was too much. "Y/N, please listen to my voice." It was Shoto, how could you listen when everything was blurring together?

"LISTEN TO THEM, LISTEN TO YOU, LISTEN, LISTEN, AHHHHHHHH" When you screamed you had a faint red hue causing everything and everyone to go flying backward. You lost control, you lost control, and you were going to be kicked out of school. They were right, everyone was right-

"Y/N!" Your inner hate speech was stopped by a crushing force squeezing you. It was Shoto. He was hugging you as tightly and close to him as possible. You did your best to focus on his smell trying to get your bearings on your senses and surroundings in order to bring your quirk back into control. After what felt like forever you were finally calm and Shoto was still holding your limp body close to you. "I'm taking you to Recovery girl." You were too tired to argue. You could barely focus on what was happening around you as Shoto spoke to the teachers and rushed you to Recovery Girl "You're going to be fine. Everything is going to be okay." You tried your best to believe everything he was saying. 

"Thank you..." With that last thing, you allowed exhaustion to drag you into sleep.

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Thoughts?

#anime #manga #fanfic #bnha #mha #fanfiction #quotev #fluff #quirks #x reader #shoto torodoki #shoto fluff #shoto x you #todoroki shoto #my hero academia #shoto x reader #shoto x gn!reader

[asukamood]

Halloween party

Hello everyone and happy Halloween! Today I have written two one-shots celebrating this holiday, one is about Dreamswap aka the one you’re reading right now and the other is about the original UTMV that will normally come out at the same time. DS still belongs to Kai.

I have read once about how Dream would host a Halloween party every year and let Nightmare be for the day even though he knew he was sneaking in so I’ve decided to write about it. Hope you enjoy! I didn’t really have in mind any romantic plans for this one-shot but you can still see it as a pairing one-shot since it’s pretty ambiguous.

Warnings: A concerning amount of drunk people trying to get Dream in their beds which includes one that was so insistent it was borderline sexual harassment. There’s also the presence of swearing and mention of past alcoholism.

***

The 31rst of October is such an iconic date.

It was a day of celebration, the official spooky day of the world. It was a day when parents would accompany their dressed-up kids outside, asking for candies from the different neighbors. The perfect day to go out and do something crazy with friends and family, like all of them going to camp outside while telling a horrific story as the moon gazed down at them in amusement.

When it comes to Justice Reign though, they opted for a disguised party instead. Simple but enjoyable.

In the beginning, that party was just one where the children of the orphanage could gather together and show off their costumes to each other before being split into small groups to go trick-and-treating with one of the caretakers in the nearest neighborhood.

Eventually, though, adults started to request an event that could take place for that holiday. Dream had racked his brain over what could they possibly do to celebrate Halloween before he got reminded of that little tradition he set up for the children and decided to take the same idea and tweak it a bit to make it more appropriate for grownups.

So there they were, on the thirty-first of October enjoying a nice little drink at the JR castle.

Or so, Dream wished.

Because yes, he wasn’t having the time of his life right now. He never had fun during the Halloween party, but as the organizer of said party, he was still required to show some face to be respectful and to greet everyone that would attend the event.

One may wonder why he didn’t just cancel the entire thing, after all, as the leader of JR, nothing and no one would dare go against his decision. The reason was simple, as much as he disliked the event, he knew that it made people happy so he kept it around, despite wanting to die every time he would go there.

There were multiple reasons as to why he would rather not have to be bothered by that event: Firstly, he loathed social interactions with every fiber of his being and that party was full of those. Secondly, the number of people who came in just to “troll” was insanely high and Dream was simply too exhausted to deal with those troublemakers. Lastly, a good majority of the guests would drink until their feet swayed which also made a good chunk of them try to get the leader of the organization in their bed.

Dream did not appreciate that one bit. Especially when that person was acting particularly insistent, so much in fact that it was brushing very closely the sexual harassment territory.

So basically what was happening right now.

It was around 8 PM and by now, the majority of the guests had shoved so much liquor down their throats that they were all completely out of it, unable to even walk in a straight line or look in the same direction for more than 3 seconds. Dream had already rejected the not-so-polite offer of 8 people, women and men alike, to have some evening activities together and he was honestly getting tired of it.

While dragging his pupils around to look for any commotion in the area, he noticed in his peripheral vision a woman, around 5’6 foot tall, making her way towards him while stumbling and paining to keep her glass full of refilled alcohol from spilling.

He sighed, internally hoping for her to go bother someone else. But of course, Hope always lets everyone down so, after a few seconds, she caught up to him and tapped his shoulder with a finger.

Dream internally let out a frustrating groan as he rotated, forcing a smile on his face. “Hello, how may I help you?” At his question, the woman giggled sheepishly, the distasteful smell of alcohol reaching his nose. His face scrunched into a frown of disgust, it was in moments like this that he questioned just how he ended up alcoholic in the past, that smell was simply awful.

She kept swaying from left to right, unable to even stand still. Despite that, she would often tip her head backward before swallowing yet another shot of wine, letting out a delighted laugh every time. She hiccuped, which grossed Dream out, before slurring something, her entire face pink with superficial happiness.

Dream had not been able to hear what she had said, to give you an idea of how drunk that woman was, but judging by the tone she used and the aura of lust she was currently radiating, it was not to ask what was his opinion on pouring the milk before the cereals in the bowl.

He tried hard not to frown at her and simply rejected her proposal, making it clear that he was not going to entertain whatever fantasy she was making in her head due to alcohol. Instead of walking away still in the alcoholic bliss like all of the others before her, the woman had stepped uncomfortably close, her hand pressed against his torso.

A wider grin sliced her cheeks as she guided her hand farther down until it reached his stomach, throwing in an inappropriate comment on how she was able to feel his muscles even through the fabric.

It had taken Dream every bit of his willpower to prevent himself from straight up punching the woman in the face, now that wouldn’t be so professional, would it? He quickly slapped her hand away from him, a shiver of discomfort running down his spine.

“My dearest apologies, but once again, I am not interested in your proposal.” He repeated himself through gritted teeth, barely able to keep in his anger. “If that’s the only thing you wanted to say, I’ll be taking my leave. Spend a good evening ma’am.”

He was about to walk away when she suddenly grabbed his arm before trapping it between her arms and chest. She started to whine like a child who just got denied a toy they wanted to buy, before resuming trying to convince the winged man to spend the night with her.

Dream’s patience was running very thin and his discomfort had never increased so fast. He was about to tell her off again when a short man, probably around 5’5, appeared out of the blue and tore her off of him.

She twirled around, her face red with anger before she paled at seeing the person’s glare. He was wearing a purple and black devil costume, with the presence of an artificial tail and horns, and was hiding his face with a pretty wide mask that covered most parts of his face, save for his eyes.

Lavender pupils bore into hers, sending daggers into them. “Can’t you see that you’re making him uncomfortable?” He said, his voice so deep it could have sounded like something that came out of the radio. “People like you disgust me. Before I send you crying to your parents, I’ll leave you ten seconds to fuck off.”

He began the countdown as the woman quickly fled with her tail between her legs, threatening to trip at every single step she made. The black haired-man glared at her until she disappeared into the crowd before tilting his head towards Dream. “Are you okay?”

The winged man stayed silent at that, a frown on his face. Anyone else could have been fooled but having known him for more than an entire century, Dream had easily recognized Nightmare behind that dark mask.

He knew that the other would often invite himself to the party and was also aware of him knowing that he knew, but never had he had the guts to directly come to talk to him like that. Was he not worried about Dream arresting him right here and now? He didn’t have any intention to since Halloween’s Nightmare’s favorite holiday and he had not wanted to ruin it for him but still, that was completely reckless and careless of him.

“Dream?” That got him out of his thinking stance. The man blinked in surprise, having almost forgotten he was having a conversation with Nightmare.

“My apologies, yes. I’m okay.” He quickly said. Now that they were both here, he might as well entertain Nightmare’s attempt to talk to him. He was pretty curious as to what he wanted to say after all. “Thank you, sir…?” The classical method of playing dumb. It may be simple, but it worked.

Nightmare blinked before shaking his head as a small smile appeared on his face. “Nox.” He stated, extending his hand to him.

Dream shook his hand as he had just met him, giving back his smile. “Thank you, sir Nox. I don’t think I need to introduce myself but just in case, my name is Dream.”

“That much I figured, you like, appear everywhere on the news you know?” Dream let out a chuckle.

“Yes, I do know.”

***

It was nearly midnight now and almost all the guests had gone home. Only a few people were left in the giant ballroom, munching on what little was left of the buffet. At the same time, the team in charge of the service was already rushing out of the staff room armed to the teeth with mops and tissues, clearly ready to clean this place until it reflected the light like water.

During the entire duration that separated the moment Nightmare started talking to him using the name Nox and the current moment, not once did Dream walk away to speak with someone else.

His original plan was to leave him after a meaningless conversation in order not to make it too awkward when they would meet next, after all, he did still pin wanted posters of Nightmare on the streets just the day prior. It was kind of weird to act so… familiar with an enemy now, wasn’t it?

However, it seems like things didn’t quite happen like he had planned them to. It had to be expected though, the second Nightmare brought up a distant memory from when they were still young and naive, Dream had a feeling that they were going to stand there discussing nothing and everything at once just like they used to.

Which was a very dangerous thing to do.

Some intoxicated people did try to divert his attention from the conversation but fortunately for him, Nightmare had him covered in that aspect. Any time somebody would walk within a 2 feet radius away from them, the latter would send them a terrible death glare that immediately made them run away in fear.

It reminded Dream of a period when anytime a girl would approach him with a flustered face, Nightmare would do the same thing. He would make them turn away somehow, making it quite clear that trying would just be flirting with death.

In the middle of watching him do that, Dream suddenly let out a laugh. Nightmare blinked away from his glare, instead watching the winged man with a confused expression.

“What are you laughing at??” A wheezy breath escaped him as he wiped an unshredded tear off his eye.

“I’m sorry, you just reminded me of that one time you menacingly played the violin when a girl tried to confess to me and the entire village started calling your music the ‘Strings of Death’. “ At that, Nightmare’s face distorted with amusement as well.

“Yeah, that was hilarious.”

Dream soon stopped talking, looking around him and noticing that every guest had gone back home now and only the staff were left in the room with them.

“It’s getting late.” Dream started, looking up at the shining moon in the dark blue sky. “We should probably—“

Before he was able to finish his sentence, Nightmare completely discarded the 2 arm-lengths that separated them to wrap his arms around Dream’s waist, hugging him tightly as he buried his face into his chest.

The blonde man almost choked on air, his eyes widening at the action. He opened his mouth to say something but before he could do so, Nightmare spoke again, this time in a low whisper.

“I missed you, you fucking ass.”

Dream sucked in a deep breath before hesitantly hugging back. They stayed in silence like that for a few minutes, the taller one trying very hard not to let any emotion show on his face. The staff men were starting to stare after all.

“You should go back to your friends, Nightmare.” He finally said, lowering his voice at the last part so only Nightmare would be able to hear it. As a response, the shorter one just squeezed him a little harder.

#dreamswap #ds dream #fluff #angst #ds nightmare #just ds noot being gay and having trauma #sweammare #platonic sweammare #ds dream x ds nightmare #ds dreammare #platonic or romantic #platonic or not #happy halloweeeeeeen #halloween #halloween special

[altamont498]

So the BBC are shutting down CBBC (their kids channel) on TV and are moving it all online (because "people like Netflix/Disney+/YouTube")

And I must say how big a loss this is for British television.

For starters:

Not every household has "stable" broadband or mobile data access for streaming/watching stuff online—especially people who live in rural areas or people on low incomes.

The other platforms mentioned aren't 100% safe for kids (see the countless stories of kids getting hit with blood and gore videos that abuse the algorithms of YouTube or the Perfect Parent Brigade letting kids watch Squid Game and getting traumatised by the violence featured).

Plus it seems that every kids channel/platform aimed at kids these days is either something you have to pay for (like Netflix or Disney+) which, again, cost of living crisis, people might not necessarily be able to afford.

And not only that, but the ones that are free/available through terrestrial TV are often loaded with product placements and advertisements trying to get kids to buy (or nag their parents to buy) the Next Big Toy™.

CBBC doesn't have any of that. It's all 100% ad-free.

And not only that, but the programs that it does (and did) have are good for kids. Not just kid-friendly, but actually good for kids.

For example:

Newsround

It's news for kids, and quite popular with both kids and adults alike. It allows kids to learn about current affairs and learn about what's going on in the world now (and has done for 50 years) without dumbing it down too much or acting patronising.

Fact: It was through a Newsround bulletin that the news broke in the UK of the attack on the Twin Towers on September 11th 2001.

And they've kept it up throughout Brexit, Covid, the Russian invasion of Ukraine and then some.

But at the same time, not forgetting that the news can be, as it often is, upsetting, and encouraging kids to talk about stuff in the news that upsets them and facilitating a lot of that.

Horrible Histories

🎵Gory, ghastly, mean and cruel; stuff they don't teach you at school!🎵

Teaching history to kids in a way that's fun and goes surprisingly in-depth for a kids' show. Even in earlier series it was brave enough to say (though not depict fully; remember it's a kid's show) that the British Empire was Not A Good Thing and that a lot of Britain's "greatness"—and the stuff it basically runs on like tea, sugar, etc.—was all derived from slavery and the products/goods of other countries around the world.

Plus I think everyone either knows the Charles the Second rap or the Kings & Queens song by now.

And CBBC took on the act of broadcasting a TONNE of educational content suitable for kids of all ages during the Covid-19 lockdown like Horrible Histories and Operation Ouch, which loads of parents, kids and teachers genuinely did find to be helpful.

The Story of Tracy Beaker/The Dumping Ground

This one holds a very special place in my heart.

It depicts children, living in foster care (in a children's home non-affectionately nicknamed "The Dumping Ground" by its residents) and being actual kids.

Yes, it does show them (or at least strongly implies) they came from bad backgrounds—like Tracy herself being a child of neglect, kids like Jackie or Justine having parents/carers that weren't fit to look after them, or kids like Crash coming from abusive backgrounds and toxic environments—but shows that they are tough and they survive and they go through all the stuff that other kids go through and going on to do great things in their lives.

Like Tracy (spoilers!) later being adopted by her foster mother Cam (who, in later seasons, comes out as Lesbian and marries another woman) and countless kids going into good homes with good foster parents/adoptive parents.

As far as I'm aware,

This is the ONLY show on British TV that depicts foster kids in such a positive light.

Opposed to the stereotype of "Baby ASBO" running drugs on an estate somewhere or getting into fights and being up to no good 24/7/365.

Plus even back when it started in the early 2000s, it was very diverse for a program, and still is—with main characters who have learning disabilities, main characters of colour, main characters with physical disabilities (played by actual disabled actors).

So yes:

CBBC is special.

And it's something that absolutely deserves protection from being all transferred online and leaving kids (and adults who are kids at heart) to miss out.

#CBBC #BBC #british broadcasting corporation #thoughts #altamont498 #long post #the story of tracy beaker #the dumping ground #horrible histories #newsround #rant #vent