#i desperately want to hear it improved or at least the characters are fun now

[dmonrider]

has geats gotten good yet?

#kamen rider #kamen rider geats #watched the first like 10 or so eps with my wife and we both found it repetitive and dull apart from the action choreo #all the characters were either bland or annoying #felt like gaim 2.0 #i desperately want to hear it improved or at least the characters are fun now

[cherrypikkins]

FE3H OC: Kitt Burgess (they/them) - Academy Phase Art

Featuring some canon characters :3

cw: mild body horror for some of the images

The first part of their backstory can be found on my previous post!

I've also included some additional support and quote information under the cut :3

Dining Hall

Flayn - B/C Support

Flayn: "I do enjoy having these meals with you, Kitt. …Though, not so much the awkward silence."

Kitt: "Better than awkward conversation, if you ask me."

Flayn - A Support

Flayn: "You should allow me to cook something next time, Professor! Kitt here agrees, do you not?"

Kitt: "You know I always look forward to your inventions, Flayn. But let's make sure it's something that the Professor can actually digest first."

Seteth - C Support

Kitt: "Look who emerged from the office. Don't you have work to do? Some poor soul to lecture about the dangers of falling from divine grace?"

Seteth: -sigh- "So that's how it's going to be. Very well, then."

Seteth - B Support

Seteth: "There's no need for those sidelong glares, Kitt. Can we at least sit and eat together in relative civility?"

Kitt: "Oh, I don't know. Can we?"

Seteth - A Support

Kitt: "Well. I suppose it isn't so bad sharing a meal with you every now and then." Seteth: "Any small amount of improvement is better than none at all."

Linhardt - C/B Support

Linhardt: "By the way Kitt, there is something I've been meaning to ask you-" Kitt: "Do you really expect me to split my attention between the food on my plate and the topic you have in mind?"

Linhardt - A Support

Kitt: "I'm glad that you're chewing your food in silence, but must you stare at me all the while?" Linhardt: "Oh, does that mean you're finally willing to hear out my questions? Wonderful."

Lysithea - C/B Support

Kitt: "I wonder if there's cake on the menu today. No? That's a shame." Lysithea: "You could have picked some other way to poke fun at me without getting my hopes up!"

Lysithea - A Support

Kitt: "Seriously though. Why is there never any cake on the menu? I want to know what all the fuss is." Lysithea: "Oh, alright. I'll share some of mine with you later. Then you'll finally know what you're missing."

Working Together

Flayn - C/B Support

Kitt: "If anything goes awry, I'll never hear the end of it from Seteth." Flayn: "Then we must simply see to it that he remains blissfully unaware."

Flayn - A Support

Kitt: "You've been pulling your weight a lot more these days. You're more capable than you look." Flayn: "Did you not think me capable to begin with? Truly, I'm hurt."

Flayn - Result

Flayn: "Did we do well? I think we did well. Please say that we did well, Professor." Kitt: "You're not going to get any honest praise acting desperate like that."

Felix - Picking Weeds

Felix: "For someone who's always avoiding the training grounds, it's alien to see you put in this much effort." Kitt: "Who says I'm avoiding that place? You're always there, so maybe it's you I'm treating like the plague." Felix: "That's… ugh, forget it."

Felix - Clearing Rubble

Felix: "I don't get it. I never see you at training, so how are you hauling more rubble than I am?" Kitt: "Excuse me? Sounds like you're the one who needs to train a little harder." Felix: "Unbelievable."

Felix - Result

Kitt: "Why the sour look, Felix? We got the job done. You even helped a little." Felix: "Hmph. I wasn't about to let you make a fool out of me."

Marianne - Cleaning Stables

C/B Support

Kitt: "Hello, Dorte. You look fine today." Marianne: "Kitt? ...Are you talking to the horses?" Kitt: "I've seen you do it, thought it wouldn't hurt to try."

A Support

Kitt: "Oh Dorte, we're really in it now." Marianne: "Kitt… That's not Dorte." Kitt: "…Wait, have I been talking to the wrong horse this entire time?"

Result:

Marianne: "Um. We finished, Professor. Kitt was the one who did all the real work." Kitt: "Oh, please. You don't expect the Professor to believe that, do you Marianne?"

Hapi

Kitt: "Just a little sigh, Hapi. Something to help us get away from all this work." Hapi: "Watch it, Kitty-Cat. I might actually take you up on that offer."

Result

Kitt: "I'm just saying, a monster showing up would have made things a bit more exciting." Hapi: "Would've been more of a hassle to deal with too."

Bernie - Clearing Weeds

Kitt: "Don't pick up any dangerous-looking rocks, Bernie." Bernadetta: "Wait, r-rocks? Why rocks? Don't you mean dangerous-looking plants?"

Result

Kitt: "We're done, Professor. Bernie did really well today." Bernadetta: "Hey, don't put me on the spot like that! Even if it means I get to have a little more credit…"

Seteth - Sky Watch

C Support

Kitt: "If you're going to lecture me, Seteth, I'm just going to look the other way." Seteth: "Actually, I was going to comment on how you seem to be putting in more effort these days. But… I suppose silence works just as well."

B/A Support

Kitt: "How about a race, Seteth? You and me, just like old times. Seteth: You know I will do no such thing, Kitt. Although, I suppose if no one is looking…"

Result

Kitt: "All done, Professor. Seteth did his best today." Seteth: "A little condescending, but I'll take it as praise regardless."

Generic Quotes

Dining Hall

Favorite: "Now that's an interesting dish. I can't wait to try it." Regular: "Do you ever get bored eating the same old thing every day? Makes you glad for the variety here." Disliked: "I don't hate this kind of dish… just feels a bit plain is all."

Gifts

Favourite: "For me? I must be dreaming!" Regular: "I'm grateful." Disliked: "...Is this a joke?"

Cooking "I know a thing or two about cooking. Can't promise that our tastes align though." "Back where I'm from, we did all of our cooking outdoors. Why don't we try something like that next time?"

Choir "There's no need to think too much when singing. Just do what feels right."

Tea Time:

Greetings:

"I'm here, Professor." "Hello there."

Favourite Tea: "Do you like this kind of tea, Professor? It's actually my favourite."

Expensive Tea: "Ooh, you brought the fancy stuff! For me? You shouldn't have."

Conversation Phase:

"Professor, did you know that you can use tea leaves to divine the future? Looking at your cup, I'd say… good fortune is heading in your direction!"

"How much do you know about Demonic Beasts, Professor? Oh. Sorry, I guess that's not something I should bring up over tea and cookies."

"You know, I often get super anxious when things are this quiet. But for some reason I feel perfectly calm when you're close by."

"I know I shouldn't skip sparring. But aren't you worried that things could get… I don't know, dangerous?"

"Whatever happens in this war, you're the one person I trust to set things right. Try not to let me down, okay?"

"I'm not fond of these small dorm rooms, but yours isn't so bad."

"The others may call me superstitious. But when the future is so uncertain, what's wrong with hedging your bets?"

"I try to be nice to everyone. But not too nice."

Observation Phase:

"Is my face really that fascinating to look at, Professor?"

"Just so we're clear, it's only fair that I get to stare right back at you."

"This scarf? I've had it since I can remember. I take extra care to keep it looking good as new."

"I always keep this knife around. With all due respect, Professor, you don't need to know what it's for."

Leaving: "I had fun today. Let's do this again some time!"

Thanks for making it this far! Here is a theme song for Kitt for your troubles. :3

Fast as you can - Fiona Apple

#fe3h oc #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #edelgard von hresvelg #byleth eisner #claude von riegan #raphael kirsten #felix hugo fraldarius #lysithea von ordelia #sylvain jose gautier #seteth #flayn #linhardt von hevring #marianne von edmund #bernadetta von varley #fe3h hapi #cw body horror #long post #fe3h art

[tsarisfanfiction]

Eclipse: Chapter 20

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Adventure Characters: Apollo, Hades Well this is one of the shortest chapters in the fic, but also it's a fun one so I'll stop waffling and let you jump straight in! I have a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi! <<Chapter 19

APOLLO XX

A heart-to-heart talk Hades says some bizarre things I don’t understand

“Thank you.”  The words were a rough husk, a far cry from how Apollo was used to hearing his voice, but at least they were words again.  There would be no singing or even impressive refrains of poetry with this voice, but even being able to talk again was a vast improvement – and more than Apollo had feared, given the source of the curse.

Hades scoffed.  “I had no desire to listen to that unholy racket,” he said dismissively, but he didn’t pull his hand back despite a twitch that seemed as though he’d considered it, for a moment.

Apollo wasn’t sure what to make of that – not Hades considering pulling his hand back, that was less surprising than Hades reaching out in the first place, but the fact that Hades had chosen not to.  Hades had defended him from the Arai, too – an equal exchange because Apollo had certainly not held back once the first curse hit his uncle with a vengeance that made all too much sense, seeing as it was a curse – and as he felt the surprising warmth of his uncle’s power run through him, chasing away remnants of the lesser curses until only the coil around his throat and the uneasy feeling that he couldn’t reach any arrows remained, his mind started presenting him with other moments.

His uncle had had no reason to defend Asclepius’ ascension, but he had done – even before that, he’d rescued Apollo and Asclepius from the mob they should have been able to defeat, if not for Orion’s earlier attack leaving them too vulnerable.  Apollo was certain he would still have won that fight – he would not be an Olympian god if opponents of that ilk could destroy him – but that Hades had interceded at all had been strange at the time, and seemed no less strange in hindsight.

Except it was far from the only time Hades had intervened on his behalf.  Orion sprang to mind, the giant ignoring Hades entirely until Hades forced himself into the fight.  He’d stood guard while he recuperated, dragged him through rivers – and away from Styx, when she’d threatened his children, threatened Will.

There were logical reasons for all of the interventions, of course, but a small, traitorous part of Apollo was starting to feel something a bit like disbelief that his uncle would somehow intervene every time, and not always only when Apollo was in desperate need.

The only thing that didn’t make sense was this – the healing, when Apollo was the god of healing and Hades was the god of the Underworld, of the dead and everything Apollo wasn’t.  It had helped, but Hades hadn’t needed to, and it went against everything he expected from his uncle.

And now he was healed, or near enough healed.  Why was Hades still channelling strength into him?

Apollo’s fingers dug into the armour over Hades’ shoulder, his own power hitching for a moment in confusion before he brought it back under control and pushed it through Hades’ essence once more, chasing away the echoes of Demeter’s ice and shying away from the prickles of lightning on instinct until Apollo forced it to address that curse, too.

No matter how much the static charges made him want to cower.

“This curse is from Styx.”  Hades’ observation cut through his thoughts, and he looked up at his uncle – even sat down as they were, Hades still insisted on being a few inches taller, apparently – to see dark flames regarding him with an unreadable expression.

It hadn’t been a question, but Apollo let out a breath and nodded his head in agreement.

“It fits,” he agreed in a voice that was still too hoarse, still rasping rather than melodic, and blinked, startled, as Hades’ grip on his own shoulder tightened for a moment, something that felt a lot like agitation swirling through his essence.

It was a natural conclusion of entwining their essences so deeply as they healed each other, but still Apollo found himself surprised when he realised he could sense a torrent of emotions behind Hades’ carefully guarded expressions.  He couldn’t remember a time when Hades’ face wasn’t impassive or furious, but the swirling of his essence betrayed a depth of emotion that made sense, but had never occurred to Apollo.

They were not so entwined that Apollo could confidently isolate and identify each flicker of emotion, but he could catch impressions of the ones closer to the surface.  Fury was an easy one to read, and agitation flickered around.  Both were unsurprising – Hades had not asked to return to the Pit, had not asked to face the Arai for what Apollo suspected was not the first time.  It was the other ones, some degree of fondness which must have been reserved for Nico and if Apollo was optimistic, Will, and something that was unmistakable as concern, that he hadn’t expected.

Apollo didn’t have the faintest idea what was causing concern to spike in his uncle’s essence so distinctively that he could feel and identify it with ease.

A faint strain of confusion swirled its way into existence, before being snuffed out by a flash of… understanding?  Comprehension?

Hades yanked his hand back as though Apollo had burned him, pulling away from his touch entirely, and Apollo let his hand fall to his side.

“Apollo…” his uncle said, the words almost a growl and simmering with the same emotions he had just sensed – far more emotion than his uncle usually allowed to show in his voice.  Apollo pulled a reassuring smile onto his face; it felt fake, even to him, but that didn’t stop him.

“The curses will fade in time,” he said, deliberately continuing the topic of Styx and her latest bout of vengeance – of course she’d stripped him of the abilities he’d sworn off of, the justice was poetic even if it was a form of poetry Apollo couldn’t say he was enamoured with when he was the one on the receiving end of it – and allowing Hades the dignity of not being forced to confront what he’d inadvertently learnt about his uncle.  “I’m sure of it.”  His voice broke on the second word, betraying a degree of his own concern because curses tended not to stick forever on gods, but this was the dues for a broken oath on the Styx and the rules for those were different, but he refused to back down.

Hades dark eyes bored into his, his uncle not replying to the hanging fruit of a non-emotionally-charged (for Hades) topic and instead feeling more like an assessment.  It took Apollo a moment to realise that if he had been feeling Hades’ emotions, then the link had probably gone both ways.

It took him less than a moment to realise he really, really did not like that.

“We should keep moving,” he said, pushing himself to his feet and pretending he was completely fine – physically, his wounds had all gone, and the only curses that lingered were the ones that made him sound like a centuries-long chain smoker and the yawning gap where the sensation of his bow should be.  Mentally…

Well, Apollo wasn’t planning on tackling that.

“Staying in one place down here seems like a bad idea,” he continued, uncomfortably aware that Hades had yet to stand, and was still staring at him with black flames that seemed to be trying to sear directly into his essence.  “I can keep watch if you need a bit longer?” he offered, recalling how the Acheron had rendered his uncle near-comatose.  “You took a worse hit from-”

“Apollo, be quiet.”

The words – the tone – left no room for argument, and Apollo’s jaw clacked shut almost of its own accord.  He didn’t really need an excuse not to talk – he was delighted that he could, that Styx’s curse had deigned to let him have at least that much back, but it still pained him to hear what had become of his voice.  That didn’t make the way Hades was looking at him any easier to handle.

“There is nothing in our immediate vicinity right now,” Hades continued, gesturing to the wide expanse of membrane.  He was right, of course – they had a clear line of sight in all directions far enough that not even Orion would be able to sneak up on them.  “Time may be of the essence but that is no excuse to rush ahead foolishly.”

Apollo thought about Will, worrying over him and how long he’d been gone, about Asclepius’ gentle misdirection as he reassured the demigods that he and Hades would be fine despite knowing better, about Nico and whatever plan the three of them were concocting and carrying out from within the confines of Nico’s bedroom in Hades’ palace, and disagreed.  The faster the quest was over, the sooner he could rest easy knowing that the prophecy would not signify his bright son and his son’s boyfriend being dragged down into Tartarus after all.

His uncle didn’t budge.  Apollo wondered if it was the first time he’d ever been taller than his uncle.  It felt strange… wrong, somehow.  Hades never let anyone else be the tallest in the room, not even Zeus.

The only conclusion Apollo could come to was that Hades needed to rest for longer.  Maybe he’d missed a curse during their healing session, which rankled against his pride as a healer – he might be used to being second best to Asclepius, but he was still not used to failing – but he reminded himself that Hades had been the one to pull away.

The reason why clobbered him over the head once again, rudely refusing to let Apollo push it from his mind to never be thought of again.

He really didn’t like the way Hades was looking at him, a searching gaze that made him want to duck behind cover – not that there was any where they were, because its clear lines of sight was why Hades had led them there in the first place.

“Apollo.”  There was something heavy about the way his name fell from Hades’ lips, and it trapped Apollo where he was, cutting off any avenues for escape that he might have been able to otherwise find.  “You…”

Hades never hesitated, not in all the millennia that Apollo had known his uncle.  There was an echo of Nico in his expression, a frustration he recalled from when Nico had been told he couldn’t help, that the best thing for him to be doing was something completely different to what he wanted to do.

Black flames finally flickered away, scanning the barren landscape surrounding him, but Apollo didn’t – couldn’t – relax.  The air between them was still charged, still heavy with suspense, with expectation, and his body wouldn’t move.  Something was coming – not physically, not a new threat to face, but something to fill the gap between them, and Apollo didn’t know what it was but he did know that whatever it was, he wasn’t ready for it.

Hades’ next words were slow and measured, low but clearly audible even if Apollo wasn’t the god of music with a keen ear to match.

“I did not return to this place solely for Nico’s benefit,” his uncle said – confessed, the words were a confession, the tone was that of a confessor.  Apollo froze at the unexpectedness of it, once again feeling like one of the ice goddess’ statues, but it didn’t seem like Hades was done.  “If my intent had been to simply ensure Nico never set foot in here again, I would have stopped him through any means necessary and been content with that.”

“But… the prophecy,” Apollo protested faintly.  “Darkness-”

“I do not care for prophecies, as you must know,” Hades interrupted him.  Apollo did know, remembered the cursing of his oracle with no small burst of frustration bordering on betrayed anger – he’d sent her to warn Hades, to protect his children; his uncle had had no right to curse her for it.  “Nor do I care for the greater scheme of things beyond that which affects my domain.  My foolish brother has long since seen to that.”

“Prophecies can’t be avoided,” Apollo reminded him, wincing at the raw rasp of his voice.  “Darkness-”

“As long as it was not my own, I had no care for what might fulfil that part of the blasted thing,” Hades dismissed.  “You yourself have frequently reminded us that prophecies are fickle and need not mean the obvious.”

There was something pointed in there, almost a mild accusation that Apollo was being a hypocrite for interfering in a prophecy, for daring to presume he understood what the Delphic words meant.  Apollo ignored it, knew that Hades believed he had gone beyond his constraints in interfering and attempting to control the meaning of a prophecy, but with his son already determined to take sunshine for his own, the risk was worth it.  His uncle’s knowledge about prophecies was rudimentary at best.

“So why did you come?” he asked, rather than acknowledge the silent accusation.  It was still a dangerous conversation topic, something warned him, a lump in the back of his throat that had nothing to do with his rasping voice.  Hades’ motivation – the fact that Hades was willing to divulge his motivation – was no doubt complex and riddled with landmines Apollo had no way of avoiding, but now the topic had been alluded to, Apollo was undeniably curious.

He hadn’t claimed the domain of knowledge for no reason – he craved knowing things, always sought for the hows and the whys even when hindsight revealed that they’d have been better left unlearned.  Curiosity killed the cat, mortals had started saying in Ireland sometime around the eighteenth century, a bastardisation of Ben Jonson’s original care killed the cat – which Shakespeare had borrowed for his own purposes a year later, seeing the genius in that particular line – and Apollo had never been able to dispute either the original poets or the later reporter.

Right then, on the cusp of an exposé of his secretive uncle’s inner thoughts, Apollo felt like it was about to be particularly apt.

“I returned here because of you.”

Hades’ words were slow and measured, each one weighted heavily enough that Apollo thought they ought to sink straight to the membrane that passed for the ground, but they were not hesitant.

For their perceived weight, they took a long time to sink in, floating around Apollo in a haze of disbelief before settling against his essence and pressing in as though they were the sky to his Atlas.

“Me?” he squeaked, somewhat belatedly, as they finally forced their way into his mind and demanded a comprehension Apollo couldn’t give.

Hades’ gaze was a different sort of weight, yet no less crushing.  The slight hesitation in his face, and the soft, awkward clearing of his throat softened the blow somewhat, but Apollo still found himself no better equipped to deal with his uncle’s next words as they carefully came into existence.

“You are… not intolerable,” Hades said, almost tentatively as though he wasn’t sure how Apollo would take his admittance.

Apollo couldn’t even think of anything to say to that, let alone consider opening his own mouth to react.  Silence hung between them, pregnant with something – expectation, awkwardness, gods never admitted to not hating each other – before Hades’ posture stiffened into something a lot like determination, or resignation, or maybe a complicated combination of the two, and he spoke again, confidence starting to build the more he said.

“In fact… of my siblings’ children, I find you the most tolerable,” he continued, the edge of awkwardness still there, and no wonder because Apollo had never heard any god talk so openly about not hating another, and certainly not his reclusive eldest uncle.  “Barring my beautiful wife, of course,” he clarified after a moment that could have spanned a mortal heartbeat or a mortal lifetime.  If he was another god, Apollo might have thought there was a smirk in those words – no, there was definitely a wryness to the clarification, Hades well aware that it didn’t need to be said but leaving no room for misunderstandings nonetheless.

It helped, a bit, to centre Apollo’s thoughts, the infinitesimal tonal shift enough to jerk his mind into some sort of progress again, no matter how sluggish and confused it was.

“Me?” he managed again, not a squeak the second time but rasping too thickly to just be his ruined voice at play.  Apollo determinedly didn’t analyse his own reactions deep enough to identify what else was involved, but from the look Hades gave him, his uncle seemingly had no restraint on that, although to Apollo’s relief, he mercifully refrained from calling him out on his evasion or the emotions that were threatening to well up.

“Who else would I be speaking with?” Hades demanded instead.  “The denizen whose form on which we sit?”  The sarcasm was sharp, and far more like the uncle Apollo expected.  It helped centre him a little more, despite the unfathomable meaning that seemed to be behind his words.

Apollo had no choice but to concede to that point, at least.

“Why?” he rasped, unable to form more than a monosyllabic response, to clarify which why he was asking – why was he Hades’… least not-favourite?  Why was that enough for Hades to accompany him to Tartarus?  Why was Hades telling him this?

Perhaps Apollo couldn’t clarify because he didn’t know himself which one he meant.

Hades didn’t respond for so long, Apollo began to wonder if it was too vague a question, if the single syllable had stumped his uncle as much as his own mind was short-circuiting.  If it wasn’t for the fact that the dark, dark fires of his uncle’s eyes didn’t leave him for a single instant, he might have thought Hades didn’t intend on answering at all.

He started to wonder that anyway.

After what felt like an eternity, Hades shifted where he sat.  It was a small movement, normal for demigods and mortals and something Apollo himself had got used to doing during his months as Lester, but for a god as far removed from human impulses as the one before him, it was a deliberate action designed to capture Apollo’s attention, and hold it there, regardless of the fact that Apollo couldn’t break away from the topic even if he tried.

“The Pit is cruel, and unforgiving, even to the most powerful of gods,” Hades started, words slow and unhurried, each one thought out before falling into existence.  “It is also the near antithesis of you and most of what you represent.”

Apollo knew that.  It was hard not to, with the oppressiveness of the Pit and its primordial surrounding him from the moment he arrived, slowly moving to try and smother the brightness of the sun and leeching his strength away at a glacial but steady rate.  It was the whole reason why he’d been adamant that Will would never step foot inside Tartarus, why he’d been so furious at finding Asclepius trapped there.

It was impossible to think that Hades had the same thoughts about him, however, but his uncle was not done speaking and Apollo had no words to say regardless.

“I thought it would be a pity, if the Pit destroyed you,” the older god finished, his eyes finally flitting away from Apollo to look elsewhere, signalling the end of his confession.

It had taken him long enough, part of Apollo thought a little hysterically, as despite itself his mind started to whirl, re-assessing events with a new viewpoint, a different lens through which to observe his uncle’s actions and reactions.

Any thoughts he might have entertained about Hades lying, or perhaps exaggerating, found themselves systematically dismissed as Apollo’s mind sorted through memories, seeing the small things Hades had done that had seemed a little strange, a little out of sorts, unusual in a way Apollo didn’t have the wherewithal to analyse when he had the quest to worry about instead, in a new light.

He still couldn’t actually believe that Hades had come down specifically to aid him – to protect him, even, if his uncle’s words were taken rather more literally – but he could see how those actions could seem protective, in the right light.  That maybe those moments when Hades had interceded against Orion, when he’d stood back to back against the Arai and batted them away, weren’t just protective by coincidence, but by some form of intent.

Why, he almost asked again, this time with the specification of why do you tolerate me enough to protect me in mind, but he knew that was an answer he wouldn’t be able to take.  Not now, and likely not ever.

Perhaps that was one piece of knowledge that would truly kill the cat, more so than even Apollo could take.

He swallowed the plaintive question back, where it couldn’t destroy him, and instead dredged up what was, in this context, a safer, more appropriate thing to say.

“I… thank you.”  He meant it, too, a small bundle of warmth coiling within his essence that was relieved for the help, for aid unasked for yet given nonetheless.  It reminded him of the demigods, of mortals with their big hearts and determination filled faces.  Of Meg, his beloved demigod master who loved with her actions more than her words, of his children who gave him everything he asked for and more despite the fact he’d taken too much from them already, and given them pittance in return.

Hades didn’t say you’re welcome, or something as inane as thank me by not getting yourself destroyed, like some of the aforementioned demigods would have done.  In fact, he didn’t say anything at all, still looked across the exposed plain of membrane they were resting in the centre of rather than face Apollo directly, but his head tilted, just slightly, in an unmistakable acknowledgement of the words.

That was fine.  That was more than fine.  Clearly Hades had reached his limit of emotional confessions, which had been a much higher limit than Apollo would ever have credited his uncle with, and Apollo himself was definitely far past his limit in that regard, too – especially when it came to receiving them.

The silence that settled over them was one that could be classified as comfortable.  Apollo didn’t reach out to help Hades heal any further, nor did his uncle do the same, but barring Styx’s curses, Apollo was more or less curse-free once more, and Hades’ posture suggested the same about his uncle.  It was better for them to sit in silence – comfortable silence – with their backs to each other, keeping a watch for any unwelcome company, while they finished healing and regaining their strength.

Olympus knew they were going to need all the strength they could muster to finish the quest.

Chapter 21>>

#trials of apollo #trials of apollo fanfiction #riordanverse #riordanverse fanfic #pjo hades #pjo apollo #tsari writes fanfiction #eclipse

[un-pearable]

ok finished s2. thoughts:

number 1. zayne, lloyd, and garmedon definitely the lineup of favorite characters.

number 2. i hate. i hate misako. i hate her. i really hope she either a) gets some massive character development or b) never shows up in a relevant capacity again

^ some snippets of my anger

number 3. lloyd deserves a break. please. please give him a break for five minutes let him win sometimes im not asking for much. pretty much all he did this season was lose.

number 4. much to my unsurprise i think i am a little bit deranged abt lloyd & garmadon. maybe later ill be able to string a coherent thought together but like man garmadon loved his son so much he literally overrode his more or less preprogrammed nature . head in hands . like the whole thing they had going on this season where they just . Really Do Not Want To Fight bc they love each other so much even though theyre destined to or whatever. like YES YES YESSSS i LOVE stories where the characters fight so bitterly against the fate the author has chosen for them.

number 5.

obsessed with this zayne outfit he looks like a middle aged barbeque dad

number 6. very glad to see dareth again after so many years. hes iconic hes a legend he is the moment

number 7. mentally i am not prepared for the cole/naya/jay love triangle that i distantly recall being a thing that i believe is coming up sometime in the possibly near future but at least itll never be weirder than whatever the heck was going on this season between misako and wu. i had completely forgotten that subplot was a thing and was taken so offguard when it came up

so yeah overall im having a very fun time and i am terribly excited to continue. for next season, i sincerely hope misako either gets her act together or stops being relevant, i want to see more stupid team bonding shenanigans, i desperately want some more of garmedon & lloyd, and also i would really like to see some more relationship development between various pairs of the crew. also also prayer circle that zayne does some more stuff this season 🙏 also also also. more alternate outfits please and thank you

1. your taste is impeccable 🤝

2.

little miss child abandonment why are you here. literally every plotline about you would be improved if lloyd had the complicated feelings he rightfully should

3. HE DOES HE DOES where’s that tweet from the show runner saying he was made for suffering. this kid deserves the world and a push pop and all he gets is a tetris game of trauma

4. would be THRILLED to hear your thoughts about them bc i too am incredibly deranged about them and you always have The takes of all time. what a fuckin stunning dynamic for a show that’s such a delightful mess

5. zane rights to be Just Some Guy. i Need to draw this now i can’t get that description out of my head agdhfjfj

6. dareth. king of bit characters. the only ninja i respect. he only gets better and i’m thrilled that i can say that genuinely

7. AGSHDJ YEAH. the love triangle is so awkward i will remember it all my days. misako and wu? so bad i forgot it ever happened bc it annoyed me that much.

heck yeah!!!! thankfully they do flesh out more the of the less focused dynamics in the new few seasons but Oh are you in for an experience,,, tysm for the update i’m on the edge of my seat.

#YOU. YOU ARE DEFINITELY IN FOR *SOMETHING* #zane DOES get to do more. i promise. i am still in pain a decade later bc of it #i love s2 so much as a concept…. guys who saved the country live in a 1 bedroom apt and train The Chosen One #is a goddamn hilarious concept i wish it was utilized to its full potential #text✨ #ninjago #extremely extremely sorry people are rbing this i should really figure out how the restrict stuff works #tysm for sharing with me though!!! sry #liveninjablogging

[fish-eggs]

I recently picked up Watch Dogs: Legion because of its recent release on Steam and... All my friends were correct, the game is absolute dog shit.

Legion's whole gimmick is that you can play as (almost) ANYONE you see in London, and iirc it was the big marketing thingy that they used to promote the game. Like you can recruit any character you see, and they have different bonuses, and backstory, and whatever else, and then they use ai to change voice recordings to make them different so you're not hearing the same six voices over and over and over. But even just 3 hours in I got bored because there was no personality, no soul, no heart in the game.

Now I'm not saying that people didn't work hard on the game, because they obviously did, but I just wanted to play a character that had any personality whatsoever. Hell I'm still forcing myself to play the game and I'm still desperately looking for a character with any soul. Even the writen characters don't feel like they have a personality, and I know that in Watch_Dogs Aiden Pearce had the personality of a fucking teaspoon, but at least he had a personality! I can't relate or feel for these ai generated characters because they were made by a computer following code, not because people actually thought about the characters and how they interacted with the world and story.

It feels like Ubisoft wanted another Watch_Dogs 2 situation, where WD2 built on on the first WD in amost every single way: Parkour was improved, story improved, characters improved, writing improved, world improved, gadgets improved, the only thing that wasn't improved upon was the digital trips, which were really well made minigames. (2 of which could've been entire games within themselves.) However the team couldn't figure out a way to significantly improve on WD2, so they looked for specific mechanics that made WD2 good, and I think they chose the followers mechanic, and thought, "🤔 Well what if the followers could actually help DedSec" However they then took the idea WAY too far by making the followers become actual DedSec members that the player could control.

But in doing all that they forgot what truly made WD2 so good, because making all the graphical improvments and technological improvments in the world doesn't mean shit if it doesn't have a good writing! WD2 was so good becaue of its cast! Like the reason DedSec was so lovable in WD2 was because it was a small, closeknit group of nerds all wanting to stop Blume. Not the entirety of London, who're all somehow willing to join DedSec just because you helped them with something big.

The game also feels... sluggish. Like character movement speeds feel much slower than that of WD1&2, and the parkour also feels far less important. London is a big city, with many a parkouring oppurtunity, and the rooves are all modeled because there's a flying drone, but you can't climb up to them like you could in WD2?? It's such a wasted oppurtunity, especially with how popular of a location for parkour London is irl, and then to do nothing with it, and actually make it worse... Like, why??? And it's not even because of the afformentioned flying drone, there's just a whole lot less verticality in the game overall. In WD2 there was a drivable scissor lift around every corner, and I've found one, one in the entire time I've played Legion, and it was only there in case the player hadn't unlocked drone hacking yet! Like WD2 had this problem and they addressed it by giving the player a drone and tutorial mission on how to use it! How the hell do you mess up what the previous game did perfectly several years before you?!?!

I'm only 7 hours and I'm very angy, I'm definitely going to try my best to beat it, even though I know it's not gonna be fun at all.

#my disappointment is immeasurable and my watch dogs is ruined #at least i now own all three watching dogs on pc #josh sauchack my beloved #watch dogs #dedsec #watch dogs legion #wd2 #aiden pearce #video games #gaming

[katsukikiss]

YOU’RE MINE, NOT HIS

CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP// BAKUGO X F!READER

Warning: NSFW 18+, cheating (not really), fingering, unprotected sex

You and Izuku have gotten very close recently while studying together, and a certain someone isnt very happy about it.

AN: Poor Izuku 🥺 I felt so bad writing this, but so good at the same time lol I must write something soon to pay him back//also send me requests for oneshots! im down to try anything you guys might want!

WC: 2k

Masterlist

You and Izuku had a ‘study date’ last night at his house. You were hardly struggling in organic chem, just needed an excuse to come over at this point. You two had been meeting for tutoring sessions for the last two months or so. Your grades had thoroughly improved since then, so most people believed thats all you two were doing; studying. And you were, of course, but as of recently it was a lot more than that. It started with innocent glances at your chest while you took notes, brushing his fingers along your leg when you couldn’t figure out the answer to a question, and you weren’t oblivious. You began to reciprocate the feeling, wearing shorter skirts to bend over and pick up your pencil, laying your hands on his chest when you begged him to give you the answers. He adored the way you looked up at him so innocently, with pleading eyes, desperately needing his help. He loved helping you improve, after all, he wanted you to become a great hero by his side one day.

However, not everyone was oblivious to you and Izuku’s little sessions. Bakugo knew something was going on between you two. He had never seen Izuku so protective over someone the way he was with you. He hated the way the green-haired boy would stare at you with dark eyes when you spoke to another male student. He noticed how he’d always want to be around you, his demeanor changing when you would leave for a different class or when training sessions were split up. Bakugo was utterly disgusted by it, but it gave him an evil idea. ‘She doesn’t belong to him, she never will, I’ll be sure of it’ he thought to himself.

After last nights study session, you failed to realize that you had left your textbook on his bed. He noticed soon after you left and texted you, telling you not to worry and that he’d bring it for you tomorrow morning. You had missed him in the morning though, running late from going to get an iced coffee, so you decided you would get it from his bag in the locker room before your chem class. You both had training but you had to go to a different site with the rest of the girls, while the boys stayed in a closer facility.

Your water quirk meant that you spent a lot of time getting wet, so naturally, your hero suit looked like an elegant yet sexy two piece swim suit. The top was white, long sleeved with a cut out above your breasts and the bottoms were a standard bikini bottom, with sheer white tights that were waterproof. You always felt so weird wearing it during co-ed training sessions, but Momo urged you to feel confident in it, telling you that you looked sooo hot in it. You got to the girls locker room early to slip into your hero suit. You made your way over to the boys locker room and took a peek inside. They all seemed to be out and training already so you snuck inside. You looked around before you spotted his bag, his All Might backpack. You chuckled a bit before bending over to unzip the bag. You grabbed your textbook from it and zipped the bag back up. You stood up to leave but when you turned to face the door, a large figure stood in your way.

“Oi, what do you think you’re doing in here?” the intimidating blonde scoffed at you. You shuffled backwards, clutching your book in your arms. You were sure that everyone had left already, was he here the whole time? He began to step forward before he was standing an inch from you. You looked up to meet his eyes that were piercing down at you.

“And you’ve got your sexy little hero suit on, its almost like you wanted to get caught in here” he laughed with a devilish grin.

“I-I have training to go to. I was getting my textbook from Izuku’s bag” you managed to say. His eyes filled with rage upon hearing his name. He thought of the late nights you two spent together, he imagined Izuku talking down to you, treating you like some helpless puppy, acting like he was some sort of hero, taking advantage of you. You were taken back by the face he made at you. You knew Bakugo hated Izuku, but what did your relationship with him have to do with that? Was he jealous? Or spiteful?

“I dont know what you see in Deku, but I can promise you, you’ll forget all about him after this” Bakugo said in a husky voice. ‘After what?’ you thought. Before you had time to think, his hand was wrapped around your neck as he pulled his lips to yours, crashing the two together. You and Izuku weren’t dating, but something about this felt wrong. You pulled yourself away from him and stepped back.

“Bakugo, w-we shouldn’t, this isn’t right”

“I don’t think you belong to him do you? Come on, I see the way you look at me”

He was right, you do look at him with flirtatious eyes, or at least, you used to. Before you and Izuku started meeting to study, you would fawn over Bakugo. He never seemed to return the feelings however, always picking on you or making fun of you. You deemed that as him being uninterested, so you moved on from your infatuation, but you were very wrong. He never stopped watching over you, showing his affection in his own odd way. But his heart dropped when he realized you didn’t look at him the same anymore, but looked at Izuku that way instead. He couldn’t stand to see you with that nerd when he deserved to have you. You were lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize he had stepped closer to you. You were up against the lockers now, your exposed back grazing the cold metal.

He bent down and whispered seductively in your ear, “Let me make you feel good baby, we don’t have much time in here and I think you should see what a real man feels like”. He pressed his lips to yours, more feverishly this time, as if he was about to lose you. His tongue invaded your mouth and tangled with yours. You didn’t pull away this time so he slipped his hand under your suit and began to grab at your breast. He brought his coarse fingers to your nipples and began gently rolling it around between them. You let out a breathy moan into his mouth. He shuddered at the sound of your voice, he loved hearing you enjoy his touch.

He traced his free hand down your stomach until he got to the waist band of your tight bottoms. You squeeze his shoulder with one hand and run your fingers through his hair with the other. He slipped his hand underneath and started by running his fingers along your folds. He dipped two fingers into your cunt and began to gently pump them in and out of you. He removed his lips from yours, moving down to your neck, sucking and biting at your tender flesh. You let out soft cries as his fingers pick up the pace.

“Tell me what you want” he demanded, looking back up into your eyes. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest as you remembered why you were in the locker room in the first place. Anguish and regret was painted on your face and Bakugo noticed.

“Don’t feel bad baby, what he doesn’t know cant hurt him, now be a good girl and tell me exactly what you want” he said as he plunged another finger inside you. Your legs shook and all your thoughts of Izuku vanished under his touch. He was only trying to comfort you in the moment, but he wanted Izuku to know what you two were doing.

“P-please I want you, I want you i-inside please” you begged. You needed to feel him, you needed him to fuck you.

“I knew it, Deku’s just not doing it for ya is he?” he said with a cocky grin. Truth be told, you and Izuku had never gotten that far before because he was taking things too slow. You desperately needed a good fuck, it had been months since you’ve last felt this good. You knew Izuku would be a gentle sweetheart in the sheets but you needed someone who could do both; fuck you senseless but also make love, and Bakugo could hit both those marks.

He removed his fingers from you as you clenched around the emptiness he left. He pulled your bottoms down and quickly turned you around, pushing your face into the lockers. You hear him fumble to unzip his pants before he prodded his member at your entrance. You couldn’t look back to see exactly how big he was but when he began to drag his cock along your folds, your legs started to tremble. He gathered your slick and pushed into you. You let out a loud cry as your walls grasped onto his girthy cock. He grabbed your wrists and pulled them behind your back, holding them with one hand. He started to violently pound into you, his balls slapping against your swollen lips, echoing in the empty locker room. He used his free hand to reach around and started to swirl his fingers around your sensitive nub. His pace never let up, he started to thrust harder and deeper with every second. Tears started to form as you felt your orgasm coming up.

“Who do you belong to?” he grunted into your ear, his breath hot against your neck.

“You Katsuki, I be-belong to you”

“Thats right babygirl, only me, now cum all over my cock”

Your legs began to quiver and your entire body convulsed. You let out a long cry as your walls clenched and released your juices all over him. He couldn’t take much more after that and removed his hand from your nub before he grabbed at your ass, gripping onto it for dear life. His pace quickened before he quickly pulled out, his cock twitching, warm shots of cum spurting all over your back and ass. He leaned to kiss you on the cheek then walked over to his bag, pulling out a small white towel. You stayed motionless, still with your face pressed against the lockers waiting for him to return. He cleaned you up and turned you around to face him. Realizing how long you two were in there, you quickly pulled your bottoms and tights up, fearful that the other boys would be returning any moment. Bakugo looked disappointed in how rushed you were to leave him. You tried to step forward but he planted a hand next to your head against the lockers. With his other hand he tilted your chin up and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“You know I can tutor you right?” he said with a small smirk. You blushed at the suggestion. You didn’t really need tutoring anymore, but you would love to see him again. Before you could answer you heard a door open. Bakugo removed his arm from the locker and turned to look at who interrupted you two.

“Y/n! Are you okay? Did you find my bag?” he asked sympathetically. You swallowed hard and just nodded, bending to pick up the textbook you had dropped. You quickly scurried to the door before looking back at Bakugo quickly with a stern eye, as if signaling for him to ‘keep his mouth shut’. He looked back at you with a devious smile and a wink before you shut the door.

“What are you doing in here with y/n? What did you do?”

“I just taught her a lesson, I don’t think she’ll be needing your help anymore” Bakugo said with a smug grin before leaving Izuku alone in the locker room.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #izuku fluff

[tryingmydarndest]

Thank You (Luka Couffaine x Reader)

Summary (Part 1/probably 3): The author goes on a bit of a tangent about how Y/N goes on a bit of a tangent about Viperion. Who may just have a little, big ol' crush on them?

Tags: -not enough actual relationship -fluff -but like, a weird sprinkling of angst that I didn't plan on right at the end???

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Inspired by this fic by @seriously-sirius-black <3. Luka? OOC? Idk, probably, I don’t write fanfic. But I am actually kinda proud of how well Alya turned out. Writing this made me realize how much of a mom friend I apparently headcanon her as. I wrote this gender-and-as-everything-else-neutral as I can make it (lemme know if you see ways I can improve, tho idk how much more fanfic I'll even be writing). Also, I freakin' RAMBLE and overuse italics, but ya get what ya get and ya don't gotta fret. Ooh, important note for future parts (if i write them) - this is a kinda!au where the miraculous users keep their miraculous. also if I had a nickel for every time I get awkwardly specific about the placement of both of a character’s hands I’d have TWO nickels. Happy reading!! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Part I - Paris's Cutiest Heroes

The look currently on Marinette’s face as she sputtered out a response was priceless, “Cat Noir? Cat Noir!? What makes you think I’d find Cat Noir attractive at all? And- and- HIM- the cutest superhero! Ridiculous!”

“Utterly ridiculous?”

“Nice one, Alya”

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” you gave Alya a high five on your way to your seat next to Juleka and Rose on the couch facing Marinette and Alya. A sunny Friday after school was the perfect place for Kitty Section and their entourage to hang out. Unfortunately without Ivan and Mylène, seeing as their anniversary called for a private celebration. After pushing a couple couches onto the deck of The Liberty, Alya had predictably started talking about Paris's resident hero team. Today, she chose to ask everyone who they deemed the cutest, and she made sure to jump on Marinette's... interesting response, “And girl, he has the same silky golden hair and dreamy emerald eyes as Adrien Agreste. What’s utterly ridiculous is you freaking out and dodging every time we bring up superheroes!”

The designated snack-boy, Luka, walked out precariously carrying three bowls of goodies for everyone, “Alright, I got more popcorn. Sorry, but looks like we’re out of cheese flavoring, Y/N”

“Oh... that’s fine. I honestly wasn’t expecting it since I forgot to ask,” your free hand not reaching for the bowl rubbed the back of your neck, “but thanks for remembering.”

“Oh, um yeah- Always," is it creepy to remember something so specific? Someone as nice as Y/N wouldn't be interested in some creep. Ugh. Luka took a seat with his own bowl after passing Alya and Marinette theirs. He ended up next to you on the floor, leaning against the arm of the couch, dangerously close to touching your legs.

Rose reached for the popcorn as she interjected, “You know, Alya does have a point. So Marinette, why don’t you just tell us who you think the cutest superhero is, if you don’t like us guessing?”

Somehow Marinette’s face went even paler as she spoke, “What- I mean, I don’t- I haven’t thought- Wha- what about Y/N? Why aren’t you interrogating them?”

Alya crossed her arms, “Because Y/N says the same thing about the same hero every day. Just watch. Ahem, Y/N, care to weigh in on the cuteness level of our lovely Parisian superheroes?”

You looked up from the bowl you had stolen back from Rose with wide eyes, "Hey! Okay, no, that is not fair! Besides, what is our criteria for 'cute'? I mean... Are we going just by physical characteristics? Is costume a factor? What about the animal they're representing, could our opinion of that make this whole thing unfair? And cuteness is so subjective anyway... Why are we even reducing these amazing and honorable superheroes to just their looks? I mean we could be talking about skill, or their powers or power lev-"

"-And your answer would be exactly the same. Seriously, are you done trying- and might I add, failing- to talk yourself out of this one yet? Or should I just read the article you wrote for the Ladyblog?"

"You said you deleted that!"

Luka had perked his head up at your initial fumbling response and turned to you when he spoke, "You wrote an article? That's pretty cool."

You rubbed your face to try and distract yourself from the burning embarrassment, "Umm, yeah. But it was terrible and extremely not. worth. publishing." You hoped the glare you sent the girl in question was enough to scare her into deleting it on the spot, or to at least lie about it, "So Alya kindly deleted it, right?"

Sitting up with a smug look and crossed arms severely lowered your faith that she'd keep quiet. "A good journalist archives everything. Especially something as juicy as one of her besties going on for five thousand words about how dreamy the great Viperion is," dramatically fake-fainting into Marinette's lap, Alya could barely finish before bursting out in laughter. Of course, quickly followed by the others joining in to varying degrees. Juleka and Rose happily giggled to themselves, Marinette looked more relieved that the heat was off her, and Luka seemed to be shocked, or maybe just holding back to see how you were taking this.

Horribly. Horribly embarrassed would describe how you were taking this conversation. You sat there stock-still as you hoped that none of the others could hear your heart's desperate attempts to pound its way out of your chest. That's certainly all you could hear, at least until Alya's voice brought you out of it, "Hey, it's fine," she made her way over to sit next to you as she continued, "We all have our little hero crushes. That's why I bring it up all the time, to show you that it's totally normal! I mean, we all know how I could go on about Carapace for days," Alya gestured for the others to continue, and used her other hand to try and comfort you.

"Well, I find Ladybug to be just absolutely adorable and so kind.... oh it just makes me so happy knowing she's keeping all of Paris safe," Rose added softly.

Juleka brushed a strand of hair aside as she spoke, "Rena Rouge is super mysterious, pretty rad in my opinion."

Alya was rubbing your back like the mom friend she is to try and help encourage you, "See? Super normal, so go ahead and release all this pent up Viperion energy that I know you have. Maybe it'll encourage Marinette here to finally join in the fun!" Alya stuck her tongue out at her best friend, who responded promptly by smashing her face into a pillow.

You just sighed, "I mean- it’s- it can't just-'' were you supposed to just get over it all just like that? Well, at least the embarrassment was wearing off, maybe you could just entertain her for a bit, "Well- um, you see.... HisHairJustLooksReallySoftAnd- you know what. Nope. Can't do anymore of this. Yep- that's all you're getting out of me!" This time when everyone started giggling, you were able to comfortably join them. It was a nice feeling.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A nice evening chilling out with your friends was always welcome, especially with the rising number of akumatizations making that less possible. But the night had come to a close. Alya and Marinette went home, Juleka was walking Rose back herself, and Luka and you had volunteered to clean up. Luka stopped drying the cup in his hand for a minute as he looked at you, “Um, I know it might not be my place, but I want you to know that you don’t have to be embarrassed about the whole... Viperion thing.” God, how am I supposed to take the news that MY crush has a crush on.... Sort of me? Am I supposed to count it as me at all?

“Oh, um. Yeah, thanks. I think I’m over the embarrassment now that it’s out. I don’t know, it’s just that a lot of people think it’s weird since he’s kind of a new hero,” how are you supposed to explain this to him? That you kept such a non-issue secret from him, especially without getting suspiciously defensive about it. “And then people use that to try and say that I only like him for his looks..... And that’s not it! I don’t know, it’s kind of.... A lot? To explain, that is.” This was not going well.

“Oh... Well, what is it? That you like about him, I guess.”

This was so not going well. But he was waiting for a response so... “Uh, well I guess it did kinda start..... that way.... but then I started doing research. I learned about his power and saw videos of his fights. He’s really good! Especially for being so new, which kinda goes into why his power makes me like him so much.” Shit. Rambling, I’m just talking and talking and I need to stop. But how am I supposed to change the subject now? And now Luka’s sitting down, and he seems so invested. Why does this have to happen to me?

“What do you mean by that?”

Luka’s voice kindly shuts your little thought-spiral in its tracks. What were you saying? Oh, Viperion’s powers! You can talk about this, you know this. Just keep talking, at least he seems interested in it, “Well, you know how he can go back and redo the last couple of minutes?” Luka nodded, “Well, we always see the time that worked out. Us civilians get to keep going from the one time it all went right. Just imagine all the times he failed, all the times he couldn’t get it right. It could be dozens, maybe even hundreds of times! He must get so discouraged at some point, I mean I know I would.... I guess I didn’t really think about it at first, but.... but, I doubt I could keep that determination, and I’m so glad Paris has a hero who can, and does.”

Silence. Why was it so quiet? Oh no, he thinks I’m weird. He must think-

“All of this from ‘his hair looks soft’?”

“Hey! You can’t tell me not to be embarrassed, then make fun of me! That’s against the rules!”

Luka chuckled as he said, “Against what rules, exactly?”

“The Rules Of Best Friendship, duh!”

“And who exactly said you were my best friend?”

“Well... your loss, I guess. Now you won’t get an invitation when I plan Rose and Juleka’s wedding,” you brushed off his offended glare as you took the seat next to him.

“She’s my sister.”

“She’d take my side.”

I’d take your side, too. I will always take your side. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

A/N the sequel: I am super bad at finishing things, but I really wanna keep motivated to finish this (like I have a full, probably 3 part, plan for this). If you guys want to help, shoot me a message and I'll send you a link to the google doc I'm writing this on. Feel free to leave a little comment (pls be kind, obviously) and see my writing process! Idk, would any of you guys be interested in that? Would you just get annoyed at having already read the thing before I post it?

#luka couffaine x reader #luka couffaine #mircaulous ladybug #miraculous fanworks #miraculous fanfic #miraculous luka #miraculous lb #the tales of ladybug and cat noir #luka couffaine fanfic #luka couffaine imagine #im gonna hate seeing this show up when i search luka x reader #but imma have to deal with it #mmmmmmm #we love anxiety here #<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

[starcharmfunzies]

Can you rank the kh characters in terms of their voice acting?

Only main characters and based on their english voice acting 11. Aqua. I love Aqua with all my heart, but god does she sound bored and apathetic in most of her lines. I still find it so strange that Willa Holland, and actress, can't seem to show emotion in her voice. I'd like to blame the directing but Ven and Vanitas sounded just fine in BbS. 10. Terra. I had a tough time deciding whether Terra sounded better than Aqua, but I can at least give Terra some credit that in his emotionally powerful scenes he does deliver a little bit. The one I have in mind right now is during his fight with Xehanort at the end of BbS. Other than that, he's still not that great.

From here on out the difference in my ranking is much smaller. If from a scale of 1 to 10 Aqua and Terra are a 4, the rest of the characters go from 7 onwards. 9. Xion. Not bad, but I feel like her sad emotional deliveries rely a lot on making her voice raspy, which isn't quite as effective as actually sounding devastated. Her performance is decent. 8. Kairi. The only reason I'm placing Kairi above Xion is because of Hayden. I feel Hayden's performance was charming and really sold the role of a sweet tomboyish girl, but ever since she was replaced by Alysson Kairi just sounds like any other girl. The acting is not bad, but nothing memorable. 7. Naminé. Brittany Snow was good, but Meaghan took the cake for sure. Naminé has not been given a lot of powerful scenes but the ones she did have are great. I'm remembering the end of Re:CoM the few times she's screamed in despair (like that scene when she aks Repliku to stop), and you really do feel her distress and desperation. I really wish we could hear more of her. 6. Vanitas. You can just tell Haley is having fun with this role, and he's definitely at his best in BbS with that iconic laugh and the venom in his voice whenever he talks to Ven. Sadly in KH3 direction seemed to be off, because his performance isn't that consistent from scene to scene. In Monster's Inc. he sounds great while in the Keyblade Graveyard he sounds strangely raspy and a little high pitched. It was very noticeable the first time I played KH3. 5. Sora. Sora is a joy to listen to, I'm so thankful that Haley has continued to give Sora that cheerful and friendly lilt to his voice throughout the years, but sadly his good performances are not consistent in all the games. DDD in particular is pretty bad (which is a shame since his DDD lines are the ones reused the most). In KH3 he seemed to improve a bit, with some scenes better than others, but I am aware Haley is in his 30s and can only do a high pitched voice for so long without sounding off sometimes. 4. Riku. Like Sora Riku is pretty great, with his peak in KH1 imo, and although his performances decline a bit as the games progress I don't think it got as bad as Sora did in DDD. Nevertheless David really seems to still be passionate when working as Riku and stands out the most during emotional scenes. He is on thin ice tho, since in Re:Mind his dialogue sounded off (I want to blame the directing), but his battle quotes of KH3 (especially Repliku's) are perfectly fine. 3. Ven. I had a really hard time picking the top 3, but despite my bias I don't think I can give Ven the first place. Not that I got much to say really, since Jesse is consistently fantastic. I want to credit him particularly in the fact that when he first voiced Roxas he probably didn't think he'd be getting another character with the exact same voice but he still managed to find a way to make a distinction between them. 2. Axel. The thing about Axel is that because he started as a bad guy we got to listen to a lot of different and fun performances. He's cunning, deceiving, ruthless, but also kind and playful, and with every single range of emotion he's displayed Quinton has nailed it. 1. Roxas. When I think of powerful performances in KH I always think of that scene in the Days movie where Roxas confronts Axel for answers. He's angry, frustrated, betrayed, desperate, and you can hear it all in his voice. Jesse is fantastic, and I'm grateful he was the one that got to voice such a complex character as Roxas. Whenever Roxas is happy, or sad, or defeated, or furious, or relieved, you can hear everything. It's thanks to Jesse that Roxas' last line in the KH2 intro hurts so much, and it's so memorable I can still hear it in my head clearly. He's just amazing.

#aqua babe i love you but #i cant defend you on this matter

[soliverse]

call me a fool - k.dy

reader x bestfriend!doyoung

genre: fluff, slight angst

warnings: one cuss word

word count: 1.527k

synopsis: Once Doyoung calls, you're ready to drop everything to be there for him. Pity that he only sees such efforts as a friendly gesture.

inspiration: 

linger by the cranberries, sway by bic runga, insensitive by jann arden

(click to listen to the songs)

networks: 

@nctcreations @kdiarynet @kpopscape @kwritersworld @culture-cafe @neowritingsnet @neoswitchnet

///

It’s been an hour since your phone rang that night. 

An hour since Doyoung called you in the middle of the night to say “Can you meet me today, Y/N? I need you.” 

An hour since you’ve frantically changed into your winter clothes and waited at your usual spot and sat at a bench in the middle of a freezing winter night just to wait for him.

“Hey, Y/N. Did I make you wait too long?” Doyoung said apologetically as he scratched his nape in embarrassment.”

“No. Not at all.” And then you smile. It was a smile of liar. A liar that had been in love with her bestfriend for three damn years.

He wrapped his arms around you as you walked the familiar path towards your spot. Doyoung would always ask about how your day went(even though you just told him prior to meeting him that night) and then you’d always respond, “It was fine. Nothing new. Let’s just talk about yours.”

This would trigger his toothy smile. He always loved it when someone lets him vent out and would listen to his stories enthusiastically. Moments like this expanded your vocabulary, thinking of words that are similar to “that’s cool, sounds awesome, can’t wait to see/hear it.”

And somehow, you’re just satisfied of that dynamic. You’re satisfied being that confidant, someone he can vent his feelings into and hear thoughts that he usually keeps to himself. This will go on until you reach his favorite noodle shop. As usual, it’s his treat. He would always apologize for bothering you in the first place and make it up to you by treating you with deep talks and a bowl of hot ramen.

As you sat down, you exchanged glances with the owner of the shop. You’ve been there for too many times that she didn’t even bother asking what your order is. Within minutes, you’re served with two steaming spicy ramen that she always finished off by saying “You really look good together. The prettiest couple that I’ve had in this shop.”

For some reason, the both of you never found it in you to correct the nice old lady. The thought of correcting it now might break her heart. Or yours.

You both thanked the lady for the meal and started digging down the meal.

And as per usual, you’ll ask him “Why’d you call?”

He sighs as he sets his chopsticks down for a moment before answering

“Today’s filming didn’t go so well. I needed some time to relax.” You nodded. It was a way to let him know to go on without interrupting him.

He grabbed the chopsticks and took a few bites before speaking again.

“The director didn’t like the way I did a scene earlier and it took a lot of takes before finally deciding to just postpone the scene altogether.”

“Mhm. What was the scene about?”

“Well…”

Doyoung placed his bowl down and started to recall the moment earlier.

“I told you that my role is a guy that’s been in love with his bestfriend for a long time…”

You snickered in silence as you heard him say that statement. Oh, the sweet irony of it all.

“… and then there’s the confession scene, where my character finally tells her how he feels. The director says I don’t look in love enough. Whatever that means.”

You can’t even see that I’m in love you.

The thought popped into your head, making you smile but you tried to hide it so he won’t mistake it as you making fun of him. This time, it was your turn to stop eating. You set your bowl aside and turned the stool around to face him.

“Let me see it.”

“See what?”

“Pretend I’m the female lead. Maybe I can see where the problem is.”

He sat there, surprised at the impromptu acting lessons that he’s being offered right now.

“Are you being serious right now?”

You nodded.

“Absolutely. Let’s do it while we’re the only ones here.”

His eyes are still wide, either from shock or the disbelief.

Whatever it is, he trusted you enough to submit to your request. He himself couldn’t believe that he’s about to do this scene, and in front of his bestfriend nonetheless. Doyoung poured himself a glass of water and gulped it to gather a bit of courage to do it. He turned towards your direction and then shyly smiled as your gazes met.

“Come on... Just deliver your line.” You said reassuringly and tried to contain your emotions so it won’t distract him.

He took a deep breathe before his expression completely changed. He looked a lot more serious, doing such a good job at it that you almost forgot that he’s just acting.

“Y/N-ah…”

Him saying your name is enough to make you squeal internally. It felt like your brain is malfunctioning and realized that this may not be a good idea afterall. It was too late late for that though.

His lowered his head as if he’s trying to hide his emotions. You just sat there in anticipation as he started to warm up to his role.

“Y/N-ah. Believe me when I say I tried hard. I tried to hold it back because I know you don’t see me that way...”

He takes a deep breath as he took your hand and stared at it before caressing it with care. It took him a while before he finally stares at you with a sad look in his eyes.

“Please promise me that you won’t leave me after this. I care for you too much to lose you.”

Tears are already forming in his eyes. At this point, you’re actually convinced that he’s about to snap and breakdown at that moment. 

At this point, you’re starting believe that he actually liked you all this time. That you’re not the only one that feels that way.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying this because I want you to love me back. I just want you to understand why I’ve been acting this way.

He went quiet for a moment, his formed a sad smile as he stares into nothing trying to compose himself.

“I love you. I’ve been fucking in love with you all this time Y/N. But you don’t seem to notice that, can you?”

You swallowed an imaginary lump in your throat as he looked at you with literal tears in his eyes. Before you get lost in that moment even more, you laughed nervously as you took your hand away from him.

The tension in the air finally broke and he goes back to his usual self. He used his sweater to wipe off the tears in his eyes like it was nothing.

You clapped at his performance and he felt a little shy, hiding his face with his arms while you teased him about his performance. He doesn’t want to let his face show but you reminded him about that the ramen is going cold. Before you know it, you’re back to laughing at each other’s jokes and the night has came to an end. He gladly paid the bill and the both of you left the store satisfied.

And just as the routine goes, he walked with you towards the bus stop as the night comes to an end. The both you stood at a shed while you wait for the bus to arrive.

The silence once again creeps in between the two of you as you felt the withdrawals from the height of emotions that the two of you felt earlier.

It took you a while before you finally spoke up.

“I can see now what the director’s talking about. You’re missing something.”

Your voice broke the tension in the air at that moment.

“You need more… desperation.” Your heart is still pounding at this point but you tried to calm yourself out as you give him actual advice to improve himself.

“What do you mean?”

“The way that I see it, you’re afraid that the girl will leave you after the confession. It would sound more sincere if you looked more distressed. Like you would lose everything if she decided not to talk to you anymore. At least that’s what I think.”

Just then, the sound of an incoming bus came zooming in. The two of you faced each other to say goodbye.

And just like always, he pulled you in the tightest and warmest hug that you’ve gotten your whole life.

“I knew it was a good idea to call you. Thank you for keeping me company again, Y/N.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You smiled widely as your push him away so as not to keep the bus from waiting.

And just like always, it took you eight steps to turn your back away from him and hopped inside the bus. At the last step, you’ll turn around for one last time to wave. That is, only to find out that he’s already walking away, back to his own world until he decides to call you again in the middle of the night to say he needs you.

///

#nctcreations #kdiarynet #kpopscape #kwritersworldnet #neowritingsnet #neoculturecafe #neoswitch #nct #nct 127 #doyoung #kim doyoung #kim dongyoung #nct doyoung #doyoung fanfic #doyoung x reader #doyoung scenarios #call me a fool #soliverse

[jimlingss]

Moirai [2]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

➜ Words: 6.2k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

You turn the corner and dart down the hall.   “My lady!”   There’s a parade of maids chasing after you, Joan included in the bunch, and a frightened guard whose metal armour clanks with each movement. You grin, swinging your wooden sword around at them with a ‘huzzah!’. Pretending you’re a champion, you twirl around the pillar with one arm. But even with your theatrics, they’re still meters away and out of reach.   “Please! Come back! You have your dance lessons!”   You stick out your tongue. “Then catch me!”   It’s been one full year since you’ve started learning swordsmanship and admittedly, it’s become one of your most favourite times of the day. It beats sitting at a desk with the old fart droning on and on about dumb things you already know or having your posture criticized over and over again during dance lessons.    You’re frankly getting tired of having information and insults shoved down your throat.    Sword lessons are the only time you can be out in the sun and do whatever you want. You can tell that you’re improving too. It’s a pain in the ass to get the guards to take you seriously, but sometimes the tips and tricks they give are pretty helpful.   It’s fun.   Especially when there are people desperately chasing you.   “P-Please!” one of the girls cries out, running out of breath.   One of the best perks about being a five-year old is having endless energy in your body. And you’ll happily take advantage of that while you still can. “Pirates never give up! Argh, matey!”   But your play time is unfortunately interrupted by a deadpanning voice—   “What are you doing?”    The familiar sharp voice sends shivers up your spine and you freeze.   Your parade halts on their heels as well, immediately dropping their heads to the ground and placing one hand over the other reverently. “Your grace.”   “What is going on here?” Your mother’s footsteps echo through the marble hall, ball gown dragged behind her as her scrutinizing eyes lay on the help, the knight and then to you.   “I’m so sorry,” Joan is quick to confess, “The lady refuses to attend her dance practices.”   And she’s quick to throw you under the bus.   If you could, you’d stick up your middle finger at her.   Your mother turns, her glare laid upon you. You brace yourself.   “This is not how the future Devereux head should act.” Her voice is above a slight murmur, yet chilling and heavy. Her narrowed eyes have dimmed as they look upon you. She doesn’t need to yell to be frightening. “The Chevalier household has their youngest daughter playing piano and they recently went to the castle to show her talent. How will you compete, Anastasia?”   “I—”   “Or will you continue to tarnish our family’s name by being a child?”   You are a child. Technically.    The woman looms over you, her demeanour imposing and the burden of the household’s name lays upon your shoulders. You can’t help but feel small. It’s no wonder Anastasia took the Prince’s kindness as love and fell for him so quickly. Moments with him were her moments of freedom.   You stay quiet, solemn, knowing it’s not worth arguing. Your eyes instead focus on a younger maid who’s silently snickering to herself and before you can make note for later, your vision blurs.   “From now on, your swordsmanship lessons will be retracted until you’ve caught up with the rest of your lessons,” she says while looking straight ahead, not sparing you a glance. “The only places you are to be permitted in for the next month is your room and the study—”   It’s unfair. A punishment that doesn’t fit the crime.   But your voice doesn’t come out of your mouth.   The world tilts on an axis. It swirls. Your head is lightweight.    And before you could figure out what’s happening, there’s a shrill cry for you — “my lady!” — and you feel yourself falling back before the universe becomes pitch black. An abyss of nothing.   //   “Why did she faint?!”   When you come to, your first thought is that you’ve died. Again.   Illness. Heart attack. Maybe from the plague.    Fuck.   It’s frightening and you feel an urge to cry, knowing that you yet again didn’t complete your goal of living a long and fruitful life. That the years spent fighting for your survival were ultimately useless. But then you hear far away voices and realize your fingers can twitch. The soft mattress underneath you registers soon after and it sinks in that you’re in your room, bedridden.   “Well….your grace…”   “On with it! I didn’t bring you here to waste my time!”   “Herrick…”   Oh right. It’s the Eve of the Solar Festival, isn’t it? A day where commoners celebrate the empire and wish for its everlasting prosperity. You remember since you’ve never gone before. Around this same time last year and the year before that, you fell ill in the exact same way — cold, chest aching, dizzy spells.    It’s odd. Usually you aren’t so weak and yet somehow, you always get better in the morning once the festival is over. You don’t remember this ever being mentioned in the original game either. Or at least Anastasia never said anything about it and she would’ve totally milked it for the Prince’s attention if she could’ve. But maybe it’s an outside detail. Something the game developers were going to include in a future DLC.   “We don’t know what’s happening to the lady, your grace,” the healer says.   Your father bellows from his stomach, “Excuse me?!”   “H-Her pulse reads well and she has no fever either. I-It’s a very unusual case.”   In your half-consciousness, you perceive the bitter silence.    “Heal her at all costs.” Your father’s footsteps fade and your mother sighs.   You wish you couldn’t hear. Otherwise, it would be easy to demonize the pair as unsympathetic, psychopathic parents who only consider their daughter a chess piece. You’re sure the only reason they’re expressing so much concern is because you are the only heir after all. They really have no future if Anastasia dies.    But it’s still hard to quell the hope that they actually care for your wellbeing.    Still, you wish you couldn’t hear their desperation. It wouldn’t have to be so conflicting. Or bittersweet. The only time they show an ounce of their affection is when you’re on your deathbed.   You muster the strength to open your eyes once everyone’s left the room.    Most likely, you’ll live through this. You still have yet to have any of the game’s encounters or even start. Anastasia was alive for most of it, enough to terrorize the main character, so you’ll live too.   Shit. When does the game start again?   The opening scene was right before the debutante ball was held for all the girls in the empire.   You count on your fingers — give or take, there’s twelve or thirteen years left….   But you remember from the wiki fan page that Anastasia became engaged to the Crown Prince when they were kids.    Oh god. If you weren’t so weak, you’d roll over and scream into your pillow.   There’s an unsettling feeling boiling in the pit of your stomach.   No matter how much effort you put forth, you don’t know how you’re going to avoid that arrangement.

Turns out, it’s unavoidable.   It begins two years later at seven years old, the D-day that you were dreading, the first domino that begins all the others.   “No! Please!” The entire household is stunned at how you’ve grabbed onto the Duke’s leg and wrapped your limbs around his appendage, practically dead weight and not allowing him to move a single step.    All your life, you’ve kept a good amount of distance between your parents — never daring to overstep your boundaries or sass them back no matter how much you wanted to. It’s more trouble than it’s worth anyway and it’s better to play on their good side.   But you’ve thrown in the towel. This is your last desperate attempt.   “I’ll be good, I promise I’ll go to all my dance lessons and all my history lessons and all my math lessons. Please, papa! Please!” You’re practically crying aloud. You wish someone would help you. “I don’t want to go to the Royal Palace!”   Edith is shaking her head while Joan is mortified at the sidelines.   Your mother’s expression is twisted in disgust while your dad is wholly aghast. Hey — it’s not like you wanted to do this either, alright?!   But your pleas fall on deaf ears. To them, it’s merely the whining of a child. A temper tantrum.   “My lady, please stop this,” Joan harshly whispers and rushes to pry your grip off of the Duke’s leg. Several others come too, maids and kitchen staff alike. Your strength is no match for theirs.   “My stomach hurts!”   Your father has no sympathy. “We’ve delayed enough times, Anastasia. If we postpone the meeting with the King again, it would be shameful to our house. Now get up.”   He’s done hearing the excuses — and while you’d usually internally call him out for being an ass, the moment you heard he wanted to take you to the palace, you did claim you have a fever.    Then you claimed diarrhea. A cough. Hid for several hours.   You’re actually surprised you managed to delay it for this long.   “There’s no choice, my lady,” Joan mutters quickly as she fixes the ribbons in your pretty hairdo. “You must go with the Duke today.”   Deep down, you know it’s true. You’ll be pulled along anyhow.    But you wish they would understand that this is a matter of life and death for you.   Your silence is a sign of raising the white flag and Joan retracts back to her place as your dad turns to leave the manor. He adjusts his hat as he’s escorted to the carriage and you’re about to trail after him, but your mother stops you.   You expect her to reprimand you, give an earful of what you should and shouldn’t do. But you’re surprised when she lowers herself down to your eye level.    She catches you off guard when she reaches out to button up your pea coat, attentive and careful in each swift movement. “This is a really important meeting, Anastasia. Do you understand?”    Her voice is soft, quiet enough that no one else aside from you can hear. You nod.   “You must be on your best behaviour. Your father, me, all the workers here, and the whole House of Devereux will be relying on you.” Wow. Way to not pressure a seven year old. “Today is the day that might change our lives for the better.”   As she finishes buttoning, her hands stroke your shoulders down your arms. The Duchess smiles gingerly, tiredly. For a moment, you feel guilty for being so selfish — for prioritizing your own survival and desires when everyone else was quite literally relying on you for their livelihood.   You find yourself swallowing hard before nodding again.    You get into the carriage without another word.    Well fuck. What now?   A part of you wishes you ran away when you had the opportunity — even though there was a good chance you would’ve been kidnapped and sold at an underground market or gone hungry or be shipped back right to your parents. Ashea, like any other place, doesn’t take kindly to wandering children.   But at least then you would’ve had more control and choice.    You know this isn’t just a fun field trip to the palace. The only reason the Duke and the King would meet like this is to seek an engagement. Your engagement with the Prince’s.    Half an hour later, you peek out the carriage windows to see the castle at the horizon.   Stone walls, seven towers, lookouts, the empire’s flag fluttering in the breeze — it’s a beautiful place with rolling green hills and beds of flowers that wind up the path. It’s a hundred times more grand than the Devereux estate and ten times the size too, stretching across for miles. But it’s also the location where all of it happens.    The beginning. The climax. The end.   “Anastasia.”   Your attention is taken when your father steps off the carriage. You take the servant's hand and hop down onto the cobblestone, following your father closely. He greets an important person or two and you lower your head to them in greeting as they complement how mannerly you are.   The two of you are led through open, lavish halls full of life-sized portraits and marble statues, and then through the garden. Even in both your lifetimes, you’ve never seen so many different kinds of flowers and vivid hues in one place.    Pansies. Orchids. Marigold.    Magenta. Lavender. Marmalade.   But you don't get to admire it for long. Not when the gazebo comes into sight.    A man with straight posture, dark hair streaked with gray to show his age and deep set eyes sits at the rounded table. Even with the absence of his crown, his status is shown through his navy cape ornate with golden swirls held together by an emerald jewel embellished with the royal crest. Wrinkles around his mouth, he has a fiercely stern expression until he cordially smiles as your father approaches.    Beside him is a spitting image, a smaller boy slumped in the white chair, visibly bored.   “Herrick! Good to see you, my old friend.”   “Your Majesty.” Your father bows and you follow suit, giving a curtsy and lowering your head. But at the same time, you can’t help peeking at the boy. His eyes meet yours and you look away.   Oh fuck.   It’s the first meeting between the Prince and Anastasia.    You’re sure for her it was impactful, nerve wracking, life changing. And it’s like that for you as well, but not so much on the positive side.   “Please, the formalities. Is this the daughter you've been speaking so highly about?”   “Yes, this is my only child, Anastasia.”   You plaster on a perfect, little smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”   The King hums. “A very lovely child indeed. The Devereux House is blessed.”   The Duke smiles. “Thank you.”   “Please sit and make yourselves welcome.” The King gestures and the servants nearby scurry over, pulling out your chairs, pouring tea and placing plates of biscuits on their table. In a blink, they’ve finished and you can’t help but muse how much better they are than the servants back at home. The King smiles and looks at his son. “Jungkook, don’t you have anything to say?”   “Nice to meet you,” he deadpans before his doe eyes wander out to the gardens.    Jungkook is wholly disinterested in you and this entire affair — you don’t blame him. You bet any seven year old would be itching to get out of their seat. But looking at him, you can’t believe you liked him so much in the game. You even had him as your phone wallpaper for a few months.   But from the perspective of Anastasia and knowing your outcome and your impending demise, he’s not even cute as a kid.   If anything, sitting across from him stresses you the fuck out.   You weren’t supposed to even meet him. This was the exact opposite of your battle plans. And yet the engagement is going to happen whether you like it or not. The greatest irony of all is that you know he’ll end up falling in love with the main character anyway instead of you. Aka. the orphaned girl who ends up adopted by a baron.   This whole ordeal only serves to make you suffer.   The only way you could sabotage this meeting now is by slamming the teapot over Prince Jungkook’s head. And that would either get you thrown in jail for treason and executed or sent back to the Devereux estate on house arrest where your mother would kill you.   Oh god. It’s death either way.   “Are the sweets not to your liking?”   It takes a second for you to register that the King is looking at you. That he’s speaking to you.   You go wide-eyed, realizing you haven’t had a bite of the cakes, the biscuits or sipped on any tea. You’ve completely tuned out their conversation. But he’s been watching you and Jungkook from the corner of his eye, assessing your interactions closely.    Your palms go clammy as you open your mouth before closing it.    “She’s just shy,” your dad swiftly informs with a polite smile. It’s a complete lie, but one the royal monarch believes.   “Ah. We shouldn’t bore them with adult talk then.” The man turns to his son. “Jungkook, why don’t you go off and play with Anastasia here?”   “Okay,” he mumbles and slides off his chair.   You follow suit, a bit relieved that you were dismissed from the overly formal atmosphere.   The two of you go deeper into the gardens until the gazes of your father and the King’s fade from view. Jungkook is wearing a white ensemble with a cape which he dirties with the way he’s kicking rocks in his path. He seems burdened that you’re beside him.   “What do you like playing?” he asks.   You’re perplexed on how to answer. You’re not sure how you should play with an actual seven year old. Then again, you like to run away from the maids and swing your sword around on your down time. But that’s just because you like their reactions.   “Sword fighting.”   Jungkook blanches as if he just bit into a lemon. “What kind of girl plays with swords?”   Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with an urge to kick the royal prince right in his shin.    But as the annoyance floods you, an epiphany comes along with it — if you can’t avoid Jungkook, maybe it’s time to switch strategies. Maybe you can start sowing the seeds of your future survival right here, right now. If one day, he’ll be condemning you of countless crimes and looking down at you as an evil villain, maybe you can turn his perception in the opposite direction.   Harmless. Overbearingly nice. Arrows that practically point ‘I’M NOT A THREAT WHATSOEVER!’.    You’re a genius.   You force the highest pitched giggle you can. “Really?”   Jungkook kicks another rock. “Girls have flimsy arms and trip every time you touch them.”   Ah. The ancient version of: girls have cooties and so you should stay away from them. Alright, alright. You can work with this.   “What do you like playing, Your Highness?”   “Anything that’s not with girls.”   You pause and laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound too stiff.   Jungkook suddenly lifts his head and turns to you with the swivel of his heel. You stop as well and his index finger juts right in your face. “Since I’m the prince, I’ll have mercy on you. We can play servant and king.”   “What’s servant and king?”   “I’m the king.” His thumb pokes himself and then he’s back to pointing right between your eyes again. “You’re the servant. You have to follow me and all my orders or off with your head!”   What a little shit.   How is this going to be any fun for you?!   But you draw an enormous grin on your face, left eye twitching in the process. “Sounds like fun, Your Highness!”   He strolls off. “Let’s go, dumb dumb.”   Your teeth grit and you inhale a deep breath. It hurts your pride to be insulted by a literal seven year old, but you can handle it. When it comes to life or death, you’ll easily befriend the hero.   “Fetch that stick, peasant!”   The prince points at the distance and looks at you expectedly.   Your teeth grit. But you muster a smile and dash forward.   When it comes to life or death, you’ll befriend the hero……….probably.   “Here you go, Your Highness.”   You present the stick to him with both hands and the brat smirks. A rush of air leaves his nose and then he takes the stick. You’re not sure what to expect, but your entire body freezes when he hurls it as far as his arms can go. He points between your brows a second later. “Go get it!”   Motherfucker. “Yes!”    Once Jungkook’s tired of having you fetch like a dog, you trail after him closely. The green hedges are triple your size, acting like corridors of the garden before they open up to certain areas filled with beds of flowers or a fountain. Some paths are unpaved, so you listen to the crunch of rocks underneath his shoes amidst the quiet.    When you’re not out of breath and running at his command, it finally sinks in that it’s the first time you’re with a main character of the game. For the seven years of this lifetime thus far, there was only really you. Your parents were supporting characters at best who just took the opportunity to slyly diss the main heroine a few times at royal gatherings. But other than that, you’re currently facing the backside of someone you know a lot about.   Who he will become. What his future holds. What his desires are.   You pipe up, “Prince Jungkook—”   “That’s Your Highness, peasant!”   You clench your jaw. “Your Highness…”   “What?”   You quicken your steps until you’re beside him and he turns his head. “I’ll support you forever if you want to fall in love with anyone! I don’t care about being the crown princess or the queen!”    For good measure, you flash a wink and a thumbs up.   “What?” His boyish face is twisted up in disgust. “Why would a peasant be a queen?”   You hold in your sigh. “I’m just saying. If we ever get engaged or something, it can always be annulled when we’re older. So feel free to love on, Your Highness. Make love, not war!”   Your words completely fly over Jungkook’s head.   His face reads that he has no clue what you’re talking about.   And he turns away from you. “You’re weird.”   You scoff.    You’re not sure how you can become friendly with a seven year old when you’re internally twenty years older than he is. If you had chocolate on you, you’d use that as a bargaining chip. But clearly, you only have your body, brain and the surroundings at the moment….   What do seven year old boys like?   What do they like?   As you scan your surroundings, your eye catches something in the bushes. You stop and get closer.   At the same time, Jungkook realizes you’re not following him anymore and turns around. “What are you doing, peasa—” His words are cut short by a shrill shriek of absolute terror.   Your brows furrow and you thrust your hand closer to him. “It’s a ladybug.”   The tiny red and black polka dotted bug is crawling in your hand. Jungkook screams again.   He’s stumbling back, nearly tripping onto his butt, doe eyes reflected with complete horror as if you just chopped off his mom’s head. “Get that thing away from me!” his voice cracks up and down two different octaves and realizing his weakness, you grin.   You know your plan was to seem as harmless as possible, but it’s just too much fun teasing him.   “What thing, Your Highness? Your servant is merely showing you a small forest creature.”   “No! Stop!”   He scrambles and starts running away.   You chase after him while giggling manically. “Prince Jungkook! Where are you going!”   “Get the bug away from me!”   He turns over his shoulder with eyeballs nearly falling out of their sockets, face bright red, and you take the opportunity to toss the ladybug at him. Jungkook’s shrieks echo, pitched and earsplitting.   You’re forced to stop with how hard you’re laughing and by then, he’s ran for the hills, completely gone from sight.   Oh god. You can’t believe he’s so scared.    You can’t believe you were so scared — he’s just a kid.   Your giggles taper off as you wander the gardens by yourself. It’s freeing to stroll at your own pace without a brat demanding you to fetch sticks or barking at you to do this and that. It’s a chance to finally admire the surroundings.   You’re sure the first time Anastasia saw the castle, it became her dream home. The place is similar to the aesthetic background graphics of the game and it was always described as beautiful by all the characters. And it really is that way.   But this is also the place of her demise and possibly yours.    You’re sure the only time you’ll be able to enjoy the palace and be this carefree is right now.   You’re admiring the blooming carnations, peony and roses as you turn the corner. The figure standing by the sprouting fountain doesn’t register until after a delayed moment and your eyes lift to see a woman — mysterious in her gray dress. It’s simple attire, but the fabrics are layered on top of one another, light enough that they drape down and flow to the breeze. Her brunette hair is tied into a bun and as if she feels the pressure of your eyes, her bright irises turn towards you.   You realize you’re staring and you blink several times, approaching her politely.    She pulls her charcoal shawl closer to her and smiles. The light wrinkles around her kind eyes crease. “Are you lost, child?”   You shake your head. “No. I’m just looking.”   She crouches down to match your height, gazing at you tenderly. “Where are your parents?”   “My dad’s talking to the King.” You point off in the distance as curiosity eats at you. She doesn’t look like an ordinary worker but not a visitor of the castle either. “I’m Anastasia.”   She searches your expression as if she’s endeared by you. “That’s a beautiful name.”   “Thanks! Who’re you?”   She’s soft-spoken, voice above a quiet murmur, “My name is Erena Robane.”   You frown. The name rings a bell. “Lady Robane?”   “No.” Her laugh tinkles. “I’m no lady.”    Before you can press your mind any further and pick apart your brain at why her name sounds so familiar, she reaches into the small pouch she was carrying and hands you a wrapped piece of candy. “Would you like one?”   Your eyes light up at the pink square. “Yes, please!”    You know better, as an internal twenty seven year old, than to take candy from strangers, but the Duke and Duchess never give you any sweets. So you’ll happily take what you can.   Erena smiles and drops the treat into your outstretched palm.   Not wanting to risk getting it confiscated by Edith, Joan or your mother if you brought it home, you quickly unwrap it and throw it into your mouth. It’s peppermint and it’s pretty damn good.   The woman looks at you patiently, waiting for a reaction, so you give her a thumbs up and a “Yummy!”   She laughs faintly. “Do you like candy?”   “Yep!” You hold out both hands as if you’re trick-or-treating. “Can I have another one, please?”   Might as well seize the chance while you can. It’s a dog-eat-dog world.    “You have very good manners.” She smiles, taking another out of her endless pouch and dropping it in your hand. Oh man, you’re starting to really like this lady. “My son likes chocolate, but I only managed to get candy for today.”   You chew the hard candy in your cheek, crunching down on it. You hope it rots your teeth and makes Edith’s life a living nightmare when she has to deal with it. “Your son?”   Her lips part to speak. But she’s interrupted—   “Mom?”   By sheer coincidence and coincidence itself, a boy with floppy, brown hair turns the corner of the garden. Thin lips, but chubby cheeks and bright eyes of deep mocha. You’ve known him the second your eyes have laid on him. A younger form of the person you fear most.   Taehyung.   You gasp and immediately spin around, hoping he didn’t see you, pretending you didn’t see him.   “I have to go now!”    Before Taehyung’s mom can utter another word, you run away. You don’t notice how Taehyung slows as well, brows furrowed at your receding form.   To see Jungkook is one thing. But to see Taehyung, the one who will use, coerce and lead you to your doom, is another. Jungkook handed down your judgment, but Taehyung is the one who led you there.   He’s the villain.   //   “You did decently,” your mother informs a few days after the whole affair. “We might have to go to the palace more often from now on.”   You nod, unable to dwell in her approval, mind still lost in a daze.    Taehyung — a half prince born a year before Jungkook. He has the blood of a royal with his father as the King, but his mother is merely a palace maid. You remember that he seeks revenge for her death after she’s poisoned by the jealous Queen.   But if she’s still alive, that means it’ll happen soon.   This year.    Springtime.    You’re slowly recalling the details of the event, the catalyst that begins Taehyung’s descent into madness, how he became the game’s villain. But you can’t involve yourself. You just can’t.   You shouldn’t have met any of them in the first place.   You shouldn’t get entangled in their story, in their lives. If you want to live, if you want to survive, you have to avoid Taehyung at all costs. So you can’t. You can���t. Can’t.   A day passes as you focus on your studies.   You can’t.   Another two days goes by, six meals eaten.   Can’t—   On the seventh, your silver spoon clanks noisily against the porcelain bowl, slipping from your grasps, dropping downwards in your deep trance that throbs your temples. Joan turns at the ruckus and you look at her, already standing up.   “I have to go to the castle.”   The guilt eating at you has won its battle.    “Pardon me?”   “Today. Right now.” You rush out of the room and down the hall, determination set in your strides. Maybe you can avoid this. Maybe if you do, he won’t become the game’s villain. Then he won’t be a threat to you, and you won’t be a threat to anyone. You’ll live and so will his mom who’s done nothing wrong.   The maid struggles to catch up to you. “My lady! Please! Wait! What do you mean?”   “I forgot something really important!”   “Y-You can’t just go. My lady! You must ask permission from the Duke and Duchess!”   “There’s no time to.” You’ve never been more serious and somber. There isn’t an inch of mischief, no childish selfishness. Twenty seven years has amounted to this very moment. And you use your status as the Duke’s daughter to command the girl. “Come with me. If the Duke or Duchess gets mad, I’ll take the blame.”   Joan sighs, annoyed as she looks around as if someone else could reason with you. But as you turn to her, looking her dead in the eye, she shifts on her feet and hesitantly calls for a carriage.   You’re in it before you can blink again.   There must be time. There hasn’t been any news yet. No reports of a death in the castle.   You can warn him. You can avoid this tragedy.    “We’re here, my lady,” Joan informs, peering out the window at the enormous stone walls and towers looming high above the clouds. The carriage doors open and she guides you out.    Your feet land onto the cobblestone.    But there isn’t any welcome. No guards that ask what your business here is. No servant passing by.   Instead, there’s chaos in the distance.    Your head whips to the noise and Joan shouts as you dash off towards it. Yet no one notices you in the midst of the pandemonium. No one would pay mind to a small child. You’re left to linger in the open halls, butlers that quickly walk past, maids whispering amongst themselves—   “Did you hear?”   Your head turns towards two girls.   “The King’s mistress just died!”   You came a moment too late.

No one cries.   The arrangement is short and unluxurious, the bare minimum of what would be acceptable for a royal family. A priestess in front drones on impassively about the afterlife, but as you look around, no one grieves. After all, they wouldn’t shed tears for a mere maid.    This is merely a charade to quell away scandalous rumors and to give nobles an excuse to come to the castle and be acknowledged.   You’re overwhelmed in black, a tulle skirt and puffed sleeves. Your parents stand on either side of you, your father in a jacket with the house’s emblem and your mother with a veil covering the right side of her face. Like many others, your family has come for appearance sakes.   But for you, it’s different.   The woman inside the closed casket has shown you a kindness that you so seldom receive.   And because of your hesitation, because of your self-preservation and selfishness, this happened.   Once the burial ceremony is over, your parents mingle amongst the nobles, laughing cordially behind gloved hands as you follow after them and cutesy. It feels like you’re a show pony, brought around to show what the future of the Devereux looks like.   But after a while, you manage to slip away from the scrutiny.    And by sheer coincidence and coincidence only, you find him.   At first it’s the noise of heart wrenching sobs. It’s unrestrained wails and choked hiccups in between that attracts your attention. You twist through the familiar hedge corridors and the moment you turn the corner, your eyes lift to a small figure underneath an oak tree.    He sits alone. He cries to himself.    The boy with floppy, brown hair has his knees pulled together. He incessantly rubs at his eyes as if that alone could stop the tears that well and pour. He cries enough for the tens of people at the funeral, substituting their apathy with his anguish. His entire body wracks and the moment he whimpers “m-mom” in-between, it’s shaking to your core.    This is the beginning. The start of his path of destruction.   In this entire castle that stretches across the horizon, only his mother ever loved him. The half-prince. The Forgotten Prince. The one dirtied by regular red blood, not blue enough for the golden crown.   Taehyung mourns, vision blurred by his grief.   But as he rubs his eyes with his small fists, black shoes appear between the gaps of his hands.   He looks up. Your arm is extended in front of him.    Taehyung looks down to your folded, pink handkerchief. He looks stunned for a moment, as if he’s surprised that there was someone here. That someone actually heard him. That someone came.   He takes your handkerchief and sniffles.   “I’m sorry,” you murmur.    Sorry that she passed away, that he has to endure this, that you didn’t save her when you could’ve.   This isn’t just a game you’re playing anymore. All these people aren’t just characters.   You’re living a new life. And all these people have emotions, desires, thoughts of their own.   You’re not sure how you can comfort Taehyung. What you can say to make it better. “Your mother loved you a lot. I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to be crying so much by yourself.”   He hiccups, snivelling uncontrollably. “B-But if I don’t cry for her, who will?”   You don’t know what to say.   Tears continue to slip down his cheeks and as you linger awkwardly, you decide there isn’t much that you can say. So you sit beside him. You sit underneath the canopy of the tree and branches of rustling leaves, on the soft bed of grass, looking out at the garden.    This is all you can do.   You don’t notice the way Taehyung looks up in-between his mourning, glossy eyes pinpointed on the profile of your face.    The pair of you sit next to one another in the silence of his sniffles until it levels. Until he can breathe again—   “Anastasia!”   There’s a sharp call of your name, one that can only belong to your mother. You immediately come to your feet again as if a dog whistle has been blown. But as you hurry away, you turn over your shoulder. Your eyes connect with Taehyung’s brown ones, and for a moment you slow.   You leave a second later.   You twist down the hedges and turn the corner, nearly bumping straight into her. She looks down at you with her brows furrowed. “Where did you go?”   You smile. “I got lost.”   It’s futile. You know it now.   Trying to avoid the three that will lead you to your demise is like trying to wish you’d suddenly vanish off these lands. You know it won’t be the last time that you see Taehyung. It won’t be the last of Jungkook either. Or whoever the heroine will be. It seems like the more you try to run, the more you inadvertently become involved. But you’ll hold your head up high and face whatever is to come head on.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jungkook scenario #taehyung scenario #jungkook fluff #taehyung fluff #BUT WHO'S GONNA BE THE ENDGAME GUY HMMMM?

[jangmi-latte]

I heard you wanted help with a character analysis! I have come to help out, if I can! So, I have a question for you that may help out with at least one character we have information on, do you think Jamil Viper truly hates Kalim Al-Asim because of how the two's families' situation or Jamil is lying to himself? If you wish, I can discuss it with you and help you come to a conclusion, I am more than happy to help you if you need it.

You know, I have been observing Jamil’s actions ever since Chapter 5 started. It has been very visible that this vice-dorm leader has gone through a lot and the fandom knows that for sure. It bothers me sometimes seeing some Jamil x Kalim one-shots where it focuses on Jamil being all friendly with Kalim – friendly in a way the servant master relationship doesn’t bother him when it’s the other way around. I hope this essay of mine helps out expound on Kalim and Jamil’s relationship starting from pre-enrollment to post-enrollment. Before I jump straight into the main question, I’ll slowly expound on Jamil’s progress throughout the Scarabia Arc towards Pomefiore’s Arc.

i would also love to created the TWISTED WONDERLAND WIKIA and for the translators who are behind this site for providing the translations. this analysis won't be complete without them. it has been a very big help.

do note this analysis is NOT SPOILER-FREE so if you don’t wanna get spoiled, this meal is not for your dear customer.

01. Jamil’s freedom

First, let’s differentiate how Jamil acts with and without Kalim around. In most of the main and personal stories, Jamil was always with Kalim. In one instance – like in his PE card – we have seen Jamil without Kalim around. We can see how Jamil has a tendency to be bossy and how he has a way with words in terms of helping Floyd with his desire to do a headstand. Yes, he may have shown this personality around Kalim, however, it is noted how Jamil didn’t hold back into explaining to Floyd (very detailed at that) about the one thing he’s good at. Until he has caught himself again and realized he spoke too much.

We can see how Jamil desperately wants to share who he really was (his talents, his ideologies, etc.) to others, something he couldn’t show when he’s around Kalim.

He said it himself, “my inner dancing soul started to ache…” which is why he shared his own thoughts.

“Ahem! …It’s nothing. When I went out with Kalim in the past, there were occasions where I did a bit of dancing.” He held back again just because Kalim was mentioned. Ace even mentioned how it wasn’t A BIT of what Jamil did in dancing.

It’s obvious how Jamil actually wanted to dance more and teach Floyd what he’s good at except Ace mentioned how it was a basketball club and not a dance club. It’s clear how he’s used to adjusting himself and hold back with what he wants to do. We’re just glad Floyd somehow persuaded that made Jamil show his real self.

Do note how Floyd complimented Jamil when he did a handstand and how happy he must’ve felt about himself.

He was willing, his own choice, to teach Floyd and NOT because he’s obligated to like he was around Kalim. He even shared what techniques he could do.

In his voice lines, we can see how Jamil actually wants to be more powerful. Not like that’s already not obvious, however, there was always the resentment of holding back. He wanted to enjoy himself, as noted in Fairy Gala where he went all out and didn’t hold back, and in Dances and Wishes where he mentioned that he wanted to travel alone. In one of his groovy lines, he said “Sometimes it’s nice to just forget about everything and enjoy yourself. It’s been a long time since I felt like that.”

HE DOESN’T WANT TROUBLE ANYMORE!!! Please, give this man a break, he really hates getting into other people’s business. Let alone getting dragged into them. Why is this under his freedom category? Because anywhere Kalim is, there will always be trouble. Meaning, not only is his safety in the line but also the way he acts. Stiff, robot-like, servant, guardian, you say it. Is Jamil one of those? No.

He always tries to find something beneficial with being around Kalim. Dancing, for example. He stated that whether he likes it or not, Jamil has eventually found fun in dancing and let alone develop strength just by chasing him around.

It has always been mentioned how Jamil is good at cooking and I even read that his kitchen is his go-to when he's stressed and whatnot. But let's remember that Jamil DOESN'T really likes cooking that much. He's only obligated to do so. He mentioned it in his SSR dorm uniform voice lines. Don't associate him with the kitchen too much. 

He ALWAYS mentions Kalim!!! In every voice line, in every personal story, hell, even the main story, there wouldn't be ONE instance where he wouldn't mention Kalim. Why? That's what he was born to do. To always mention his master, to mention his position, to keep the focus away from him and move it towards who he's serving. That's his life. Imagine his happiness when he finally gets a chance to shine on his own.

Connecting to the previous paragraph, either Jamil notices it or not, he consciously and subconsciously lies to himself and to others — except to those who have Asim as their last name. We all know Jamil would go boast about his intelligence, skills, and talents when he wants to and as noted in his overblot, he didn't hold back (he was in a state of no control, yes, but when someone overblots they most often spill what they were truly feeling deep down). Yet, Jamil has grown accustomed into lying to himself and to others that, "This is what I can only do. This is what I am for, etc." He always belittles himself to others and it wasn't a choice of his. 

I noticed how Jamil would always say he doesn't want to stand out and I couldn't point out whether this includes him lying to himself or he genuinely just doesn't like attention. Why this confuses me is because he said he wanted to be number one and known for his own talents yet he doesn't like standing out. I would assume that he wants to be known for who he is in a way of recognition and not by any loud or crowd settling attention. 

Now, Jamil often jokes about "I'm the master now, serve me" in his SSR birthday card and it's easy to point out that (1) he isn't used to attention being placed on him and he's growing accustomed to it, (2) it's a form of control mechanism for him that he knows he's still a servant despite getting such privilege for a day. He is used to his position but that doesn't mean he won't fight for what he wants/believes. After all, Kalim already told him and he's slowly trying to do so without breaking his position still.

02. Jamil’s relationship with Kalim (post-overblot) 

Jamil has vocally stated his hatred for Kalim which happened after his overblot. He doesn’t want to be friends, he doesn’t want ANYTHING that involves being with Kalim. He is there solely for the purpose of being a servant and to finish school. Just like I stated, Jamil tries to find benefits with being around Kalim, whether he likes it or not, he is getting a good dose of education, a good shelter, food, etc. Even though Jamil wants not only him but his family as well to get out of the traditional servant position, he knows he doesn’t have the power to do so. My only conclusion here is that Jamil has very limited choices and that he knows that he has to endure Kalim maybe a bit longer.

Now, this is where we start answering the main question, does Jamil Viper truly hates Kalim Al-Asim because of how the two's families' situation or is he lying to himself? The answer is no – in the prospect of hating Kalim. BUT the most logical answer I could give is that Jamil is slowly warming up (VERY SLOWLY) to Kalim AND NOT HIS FAMILY’S POSITION. Those are two different things:

Jamil’s obligation is to look after Kalim, feed him, protect him, teach him, etc. That’s what he hates. What I’m trying to say here is that Jamil still cares about Kalim. Why do I say this? Notice in the Fairy Gala event, not only did he prove himself to the audience and to Vil but he also was having fun. Despite the harsh training he went through, I believe those smiles he shared with Kalim showed the progress in their relationship with each other.

In Chapter 5-34, we can see Kalim talking about how he was poisoned and mentioned he doesn’t like the idea of the culprit (whoever plans to poison him)  never apologizing when he ever was poisoned. Based on Jamil’s silence, what he probably felt was guilt. He never apologized for what he did but he knew what he did was wrong. At the beginning chapters of Chapter 5, he did explain what happened between him and the dorm students and how he’ll just stick to Kalim from now on. He despises Kalim’s sweet, sunshine, nature because he’s the exact opposite. He knows he’s the villain, he knows he can’t accept Kalim’s personality due to his nature. Kalim’s too nice, Jamil isn’t, they go well together and he (Jamil) doesn’t want to do anything with it. Let Kalim live his own life, he’ll live his.

“We’re not friends, remember…?” Remember Jamil’s tendency to lie? He’s lying to himself. He always tries to make himself hate Kalim but he can’t.

Want to be even more convinced? Chapter 5-30, why would Jamil eavesdrop on MC and Kalim’s conversation? He’s watching over Kalim, yes, but what do you think he felt after hearing Kalim finally learn? Don’t you think he felt relieved? I know for sure he won’t feel guilt over that, all he wanted was for Kalim to be aware of their differences and to be independent. That’s what’s happening to Kalim right now.

Ah, additional to that, the Halloween event. Jamil checked on Kalim, didn’t he? He trusted Kalim on his own. He was actually smiling when Ace pointed out how he keeps checking his phone. He was only checking on Kalim, okay, but please. The trust he actually placed on Kalim was big. Improvement in friendship.

Concerning his position, that’s the sole thing Jamil wants to change. That has always been his goal. To change his family’s position as servant, get a break, have freedom. Who knows? If Jamil ever did get what he wanted, he might go back to Kalim. He’s hard to read.

Conclusion:

I wanted to expound more on the depth of their relationship but this post has gotten too long. To keep it short, Jamil is still contemplating to himself. We can’t instantly jump into the ‘yes and no’ into his hatred for we are still ongoing with Pomefiore’s chapter which will unfold more of their relationship. He somehow hates Kalim but doesn’t in a way of personality and ideology, not the whole person himself. He also hates his position but again, Jamil did something wrong and he knows it. They’re both still learning, they’re both still progressing throughout their relationship. I hope this analysis answered your question! It was fun ^^.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland character analysis #jamil viper #kalim al asim #scarabia

[imnotusedtobeingloved]

YOU NEED TO BURN ME

(PLEASE DON’T REPOST/REBLOG)

Warnings: heartbreak, betrayal.

Pairing: Zuko x f!Reader

Characters: Zuko, Katara, Aang, Toph, Sokka.

Requested: I guess?

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor the gif. Credit to the owners.

Summary: Part four of “destiny is a funny thing”.

previous part

A/N: Welcome to the next part!

Have fun reading!

“Prince Zuko,” Your tone was sharper than a knife. “I challenge you to an Agni Kai,”

The words hung in the air, like smoke filling your lungs. You were close enough to smell his jamine scent and see the sweat above his brow. His golden orbs widened. As if he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. They held sorrow within and yet they dared to gift you with so much warmth. So different from his sisters eyes. “(Y/N)...,” You clenched your fists by your sides, making sparks fly. “Come on, fire prince. Teach me!”

Zuko raised his hands in surrender, stepping backwards. You’d transformed the teen into a scared little boy. “I don’t want to fight you,” he breathed. This time he was the one pleading for mercy. While his face showed a painful mixture of heartbreak and agony, yours remained furious.

“Funny,” you spat, disgust lacing your voice. Your heart suffered, seeing him like that, but your anger had it’s grip so tight around your throat that you were desperate to breathe again. And for that, only one solution remained. Zuko had to go. You were sick of him playing games with your feelings. “The last time i said that, you answered with something like this!” You delivered a kick through the air, flames following the motion. Zuko gasped, rolling sideways to escape your fire. “(Y/N)! Wait!” You could hear Aang panicking behind you, followed by the voices of Katara, Sokka and Toph, who all tried to talk you out of the fight.

“You can’t run from me forever, Zuko!” you yelled, when he took off. Following close behind, your rage didn’t fail you. Lashes of fire soon hidered his escape. “(Y/N), Stop it!” he screamed. His voice broke before he could say anything else. He stumbled and fell, barely missing one of your shots and covering his face. “You need to burn me to stop, remember?” He leaned on his hands, slowy getting back up. Your words seemed to hit him harder than your flames. “Do it!” You demanded, leaning forward and raising your hands.

Finally he responded, running up to you with a growl.

You prepared to dodge his onslaught, only to gasp, when you were caged by his arms instead. He held you in a tight grip. Tighter than your anger ever could. Your hands were trapped between you, body pressed against his. “I won’t fight you, (Y/N),” He whispered, lips residing right next to your ear. “Burn me if you must, but please don’t force me to hurt you again. Our first fight was painful enough,” Your breath hitched, but you didn’t stay unresponsive for long. Getting away seemed hopeless as you tugged and pulled on on him, trying to be freed.

“Let me go!” You hissed, banging your fists against his chest as much as you could. But his grip around you wouldn’t budge. Your whole being was enveloped by him. And your bottled up frustrations gushed out. All at once. “Let me go...” You hated how your voice shook and your eyes watered, as you slumped in his grip. “No,” he murmured, holding onto you. “I made that mistake one time and i’m not doing it again. I’m sorry that i hurt you. I was blind to choose the Fire Nation over my home. I still love you (Y/N). I’ve never stopped,”

Faint footsteps appeared behind you. Zuko pulled away when they reached the platform, taking a step back. You quickly wiped the few tears that had escaped from your cheeks. The fight didn’t end like you thought it would. It didn’t even end like an Agni Kai was supposed to end. You hadn’t thought that you would win. Though you had thought that you would beat him. And that it would give you some kind of clarity. Or satisfaction. But it didn’t. Not at all. It left you lonely. Empty. When Zuko hugged you, he seemed to have taken your anger with him. Only disappointment remained.

“(Y/N),” Katara came up behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay?” You made an effort to put a smile on your face. You almost regretted that the anger had disappeared. It felt good to feel something again. Now there was nothing but vacancy. “I’m fine,” You turned your head around to her, grinning slightly. “Thanks, Katara,” Then you turned and went. Away from their worried looks and from the lover you once knew. In mere seconds you’d disappeared from their view, unable to hear Toph’s response to your answer. “She’s lying...,”

You spend the rest of the day alone, only returning to camp the next morning. The fact that Zuko was now part of the Team was a lot to take it. You mulled over it, time and time again. Innitially you’d wanted to leave. Turn your back on them all and be on your merry way. But the longer you thought about it, the more you realized that you couldn’t do it. You just couldn’t. Even the mere thought of leaving felt wrong. So you decided to stick with them. Leaving your friends wasn’t the right choice. And if that meant tolerating Zuko, then so be it. At least this way you could protect them, if he stabbed them in the back again.

Upon your return you spottet Zuko and Aang standing on the balcony of and upside down pagonda in the temple. The air bender was the first to recognize you, waving a hand. “Hey, (Y/N)!” He yelled, as you smirked giving him a wave of your own. “Do you want to watch us train? Maybe you can help!” You raised your brows, with a sideways glance at Zuko. “Uhm...,” As it turned out, you didn’t have much of a choice. The boy dragged you with him until you were seated on a large stone nearby. It provided the perfect view on the scene. You sighed, shifting in your seat, as Aang walked back to stand in front of his instructor.

“I know you’re nervous, but remember, firebending itself is not something to fear,” Zuko encouraged. Aang sighed heavily. “Okay. Not something to fear,” The prince nodded.

“But if you don’t respect it,” He raised his voice, leaning close to his students face. “It’ll chew you up and spit you out like an angry komodo rhino!” Aang yelped, but Zuko didn’t let him stray from his path. You raised a brow at his teaching methods, but decided to remain silent for now.

“Now show me what you’ve got. Any amount of fire you can make,” The Avatar nodded, inhaling nervously, before making a forward motion with his hand. A pitiful cloud of smoke appeared and died before any kind of spark could live. He looked back at his teacher with a sheepish look in his eyes. “Maybe I need a little more instruction. Perhaps a demonstration?”

Zuko agreed, spreading his arms. “Good idea. You might wanna take a couple steps back,” The boy did as he was told, giving the prince more room to occupy. He watched as the fire bender took a deep breath, preparing to guide the fire. With a strong punch through the air, he produced a tiny flame. Aang clapped his hands, applauding the display. But Zuko was appaled. “What was that? That was the worst firebending I’ve ever seen!”

“Usually it’s called a ‘failure’,” you said, crossing your arms. The Avatar, on the other hand, expressed his appreciation. “I thought it was ... nice,” He smiled slightly and shrugged. Zuko grunted, trying to firebend again, and again, and again. But each time the outcome seemed to get worse. He looked at his palms with furrowed brows. “Why is this happening?” Aang rubbed his head, trying to think of a solution. “Maybe it’s the altitude,”

His mentor looked back at him. “Yeah, could be,” Overcoming his innitial frustration, he kept trying, but the fire wouldn’t budge. Nothing he did seemed to work. “What is wrong with you?” You asked, getting agitated. “I don’t know!” He gave back with just as much force. Meanwhile his student had taken a seat on a broken pillar next to you and yawned, before he lied down. “Just breathe, and ...,” Zuko said to himself, delivering another blast with no improvement. “That one kind of felt hot,” Aang said, getting up. But it only managed to enrage his master even more. “Don’t patronize me! You know what it’s supposed to look like!”

“Sorry, Sifu Hotman,” Zuko raised his hands, groaning as Aang cringed. “And stop calling me that!” You raised a hand to your mouth to stiffle a giggle. That nickname would be remembered until the end of time. “(Y/N), maybe you can show him,” Blankly he stared at you, waiting for an answer. You briefly ginned at Aang. “Told you i was the better choice,” He laughed as you got up and stepped forward. Air filled your lungs as you took a deep breath, focusing all your attention on your bending. On the warmth that flowed within your veins. You delivered a kick into the air, expecting flames to shoot with the motion, but all that got out was a puff of smoke. You gasped, swirling around to the guys. “What...?” You tried to conjure a flame in your palm. A little one. Nothing too hard. But no matter how long you stared at your hand, nothing came from it. “What’s happening to me?” Zuko apparently recognized the panic in your voice and furrowed his brows. “Hey, i’m sure it’s going to be okay,” He raised a hand as if he wanted to place it on your shoulder to comfort you, only to draw back in the last second. “We just have to-”

“Hey, jerks! Mind if I watch you three jerks do your jerkbending?” Sokka interrupted, suddenly invading the field, walking towards the instructors and their pupil, while munching on an apple. The prince lashed his arm to the side, pointing to the other end of the platform. “Get out of here!” He dropped the half-eaten apple and surrendered. “Okay, take it easy. I was just kiddin’ around,” He got up and turned, adjusting his shirt in the process.

“Jerkbending, still got it,” He laughed, while Zuko dropped his head and groaned.

Losing your bending was scary. It was as if you’d lost a part of your identity. A part that made you who you were. No matter how often you’d tried to bend over the course of the day, it wouldn’t come back. Eventually, when the evening came, you busied yourself with feeding Appa, who happily chewed on his hay. Zuko leaded on a column not too far from you, arms crossed and lost in his thoughts. You wondered what he was thinking about. He didn’t seem as scared as you.

A few minutes passed, before he left.

“Listen everybody, I’ve got some pretty bad news,” Zuko stated, walking up to the campfire. “I’ve lost my stuff,” Toph raised both hands to her head, underlining her innocence. “Don’t look at me,” She stated, folding her arms. “I didn’t touch your stuff,” He lowered his gaze. “I’m talking about my firebending. It’s gone,”

The group stared at him silently, until Katara burst out laughing, claiming all attention for herself. You flinched upon the sound. At this point you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. It was only a tiny part of you that felt sorry, and you didn’t like it one bit. But truly? You and him were stuck in the exact same situation. The prince punished her with an annoyed expression, but it didn’t seem to faze her. ”I’m sorry. I’m just laughing at the irony. You know, how it would’ve been nice for us if you lost your firebending a long time ago.” Katara said. Zuko hesitated, trying to explain the situation. “Well, it’s not lost. It’s just ... weaker for some reason,” She held up her bowl of soup, glaring at him over the brim. “Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are,”

Toph smiled scarcastically. “Ouch,”

“I bet it’s because I changed sides.” Zuko said.

“That’s ridiculous.” Katara scowled at him, dismissing the idea.

Opposed to her, Aang gave it a thought. “I don’t know. Maybe it isn’t. Maybe your firebending comes from rage and you just don’t have enough anger to fuel it the way you used to,” Apparently, that was Sokka’s keyword. He leaned towards Zuko, pointing a finger. “Sooo, all we need to do is make Zuko angry. Easy enough,” He poked the fire bender with the hilt of his sword, hitting the head and waist several times.

"Okay, cut it out!” The prince growled, as Sokka grew more amused by the second. The boy stopped, as his sword slipped from his hands. “Look, even if you’re right, I don’t want to rely on hate and anger anymore. There has to be another way,” Zuko said, rubbing his nose. You walked through the pillars, coming to stand next to him. “I’ve lost my bending too,” You confessed, feeling lightheaded. Now the water benders features softened. The groups pitiful looks made you feel sick to your stomach. Like a confirmation that something was genuinely wrong with you. Sokka sat back down next to the eath bender, who spoke up next. “You’re gonna need to learn to draw your firebending from a different source. I recommend the original source,” She explained, stuffing food in her mouth. “How’re they supposed to do that‌? By jumping into a volcano‌?” Sokka asked, eyeing her excitedly.

“No. Zuko and (Y/N) need to go back to whatever the original source of firebending is,” Everybody listened closely, as she explained the impact of original sources on their benders. She, herself, had learned it from the badgermoles. The innitial earth benders. “They were blind, just like me. So we understood each other. I was able to learn earthbending, not just as a martial art, but as an extension of my senses. For them, the original earthbenders, it wasn’t just about fighting. It was their way of interacting with the world,” She grinned, focusing back on her meal.

“That’s amazing, Toph! I learned from the monks, but the original airbenders were the sky bison,” Aang leaned to the right, to get a glimpse at Appa eating his hay in the distance. “Maybe you can give me a lesson sometime, buddy,” He growled from the shed. “Well, this doesn’t help us. The original firebenders were the dragons, and they’re extinct,” Zuko sighed, looking at the group. “What do you mean‌? Roku had a dragon, and there were plenty of dragons when I was a kid,” You smiled at Aangs words. He was, still, very much a kid. Even if he was 112 years old. “Well, they aren’t around anymore, okay?” His counterpart yelled, making the Avatar recoil. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” He moved his arms in an appeasing manner.

“Maybe there’s another way. The first people to learn from the dragons were the ancient Sun Warriors,” You reminisced, walking towards a little fountain. Zuko’s stance lost some of it’s tension. Aang was quick to follow, coming up beside you. “Sun Warriors? Well, I know they weren’t around when I was a kid,” His teacher soon stood next to you, turning his head towards him. “No, they died off thousands of years ago. But their civilization wasn’t too far from where we are now. Maybe we can learn something by poking around their ruins,” Aang nodded. “It could be worth a try. It’s like the monks used to tell me. Sometimes, the shadows of the past can be felt by the present,”

“So, what?” Sokka spoke up behind you. You glanced at him over your shoulder. “Maybe you’ll pick up some super old Sun Warrior energy just by standing where they stood a thousand years ago?” Zuko nodded shortly.

“More or less. Either we find a new way to firebend, or the Avatar has to find some new teachers,”

tags: @zvkonation​ @viva-la-millennia​ @randomness501​ @drheinzd​ @kaylove12​ @duh-dobrik​ @yeetscreetiwannaeat​ @ ashnkamfeun   @hailkyoshi​ @shortmexicangirl​ @animexholic​ @sorrythatspussynal​

#zuko x reader #zuko imagine #avatar the last airbender #zuko x y/n

[chockfullofsecrets]

The Mandalorian: The Puddle

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: Mando’s helmet swept left. It swept right. Then, reluctantly, it swept back to her.

“It’s a puddle,” he said flatly.

Well. Yes, but rude. It was a favor.

Cara tries to make her new friend have a little fun.

Wordcount: 1934

A/N: Because I think it might need to be said -

My opinions of the character Cara Dune and the actress Gina Carano are very different - to be clear, I support the termination of Carano’s contract with Lucasfilm due to her antisemitic and transphobic comments. I think it’s both possible and reasonable to separate the character from the actor, but feel free to reach out off-anon if you feel different - I’m always willing to learn and improve in these matters.

“Where are we going?”

Ah, the suspicion. Cara had never met a Mandalorian before the Mandalorian, but judging from his everything the trait was inherited. She could hardly be offended when every scant bit of information that Mando revealed showed that distrust of the world to be completely justified.

Still, no reason to play nice. “Somewhere fun,” she tossed over her shoulder.

Judgmental silence radiated from the beskar helmet in her periphery.

“What, do you want me to tell you it’s going to be boring?”

“I want to know what we’re walking into,” he said, deadly serious. Clearly the man had never seen a pleasant surprise in his life.

Then, softer and distinctly not in her direction, “No, you stay in there.”

...Right. More than one reason for caution, then. “Hey, you know I wouldn’t let anything happen to the gremlin. Just trust me.”

The helmet made the concession of a slightly less judgmental silence. She rolled her eyes and picked up the pace for the last stretch of their short hike.

“Okay, here.” She gestured forward to their destination, stepping into the small forest clearing and sighing happily as a warm blanket of direct sunlight hit her in the face. Sorgan was a nice enough planet, given that her original favorite no longer existed, but especially in the heavily forested regions the atmosphere teetered towards gloomy.

Mando’s helmet swept left. It swept right. Then, reluctantly, it swept back to her.

“It’s a puddle,” he said flatly.

Well. Yes, but rude. It was a favor.

She crossed her arms. “You won’t let the kid anywhere near the krill pits, so he can splash around in here instead. Omera said the village knows about this place; they take the littlest ones here before they learn to swim.”

The kid in question, somewhat sulky for the past few days after being denied the right to chase frogs into the nearest drowning hazard, perked right up at the mention of krill.

Good work, gremlin. Now point that cuteness at your father.

They all watched the shallow pool lap harmlessly against its edges, blown by the gusts of mild breeze rustling through the trees. Mando took one look at the kid’s ears quivering in excitement and pointedly looked away. “He’s too small.”

Cara crouched down and slapped her palm against the pebble-strewn bottom of the pool, raising a doubtful eyebrow in his direction as despite the splash everything above the lower third of her forearm remained bone dry. “This thing is smaller. Just put him in, he’ll like it.”

Mando looked back at the kid, clearly poised to refute her size comparison.

Ba went said kid, right on cue, little claws scrabbling at the plastic of his carrier as he leaned towards the water.

She didn’t bother to bite back her grin as Mando’s aggrieved sigh filled the clearing. “I’ll be watching him,” he warned, lifting the kid to the ground and helping him wiggle out of his robes. “Or you’ll watch him, and I’ll make some rounds -”

The kid grabbed one gloved finger and dragged the sap attached to it all the way to the edge of the pool before deigning to toddle in on his own. His little white undershirt poofed out around his ankles, big eyes getting impossibly bigger with muttered aahs of glee.

Mando stayed hunched at the edge, hands held out protectively as the kid plopped down and started smacking the water with all the force his tiny, tiny claws could muster. Cara sat down too, pulling her boots and socks off and sticking her feet in the cool water. “You like that, kid?”

The kid purred distractedly, eyes flicking up to her before going back to his newest plaything.

Well, that had worked out great. Next target, then.

She turned to Mando. “You too, get in here. Boots off.”

Even balanced gracefully on the balls of his feet, the extra bulk of his armor and cape gave him the air of a giant bird whose egg had just rolled out from under him. “What?”

Wa, the kid echoed, blinking guilelessly up at them. Mando swiveled anxiously back to him and Cara took the opportunity to press her case. “Come on, if something attacks us I’ll keep it busy while you get them back on. And don’t try to tell me that your creed extends to footwear.”

“It doesn’t,” Mando said slowly. This appeared to be a source of some regret for him. Cara waited.

He took one last long scan of the treeline and then reluctantly sat down and started unstrapping the spare ammunition from his shins. Cara had no idea how he’d managed to stuff two knives of that size up against his ankles, but she refused to ask and risk reminding him of some time when having them had been crucial to his survival. She’d steal his boots later and examine them if she had to.

Footwear stacked neatly to the side, Mando scooted up to her and slid his feet cautiously into the puddle. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it still surprised her to see humanoid legs sticking out from rolled up fabric.

The helmet swiveled in her direction. “What?”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

Of course she was going to say it. At least she already knew he didn’t offend easily.

She gestured to the kid. “I kind of thought you looked like him. You know, claws.”

The helmet took on a distinctly amused tilt. She wanted to stick her tongue out at it. “Where did you think I put the ears?”

“Shut up,” she huffed, dragging through silt as she nudged the sole of his foot with her toes, and - oho, that was interesting.

Mando looked warily at her from where he had full-body-jolted almost a foot away. “It’s really not.”

There was a game of sorts that her shock trooper unit had played with its members unfortunate enough to react like that from a single poke. She hadn’t thought of it in years past the odd reminisce, but she, obviously, had been great at it.

Mando was fast, she’d give him that, but she already knew exactly what she was doing - he’d barely gotten both feet planted on the ground in preparation to stand before she grabbed the leg nearest her and yanked, sending him toppling backwards. “You ticklish, Mando?” she teased, bracing her arms as he tried to kick free.

The mockery made him kick a little harder, leg jerking frantically as he tried to pull it free, but at least he didn’t seem to be reaching for any concealed weapons.

“So,” she grinned, “how’s a rematch sound to you? We never got to finish that last brawl.”

“Dune, no,” he yelped. His fingers scrambled for the rifle strap on his chest as he tried to adjust it and get up, but she was already pulling his toes back so she could gleefully rake her fingertips over the exposed sole.

Mando’s ire crested abruptly into a bark of laughter as she made contact, coordinated attempts to escape replaced with outright flailing. She’d been expecting him to try and hide his laughter more, but there it was ringing out loud and clear through his vocoder. Of course, with his helmet on, Mando couldn’t cover his mouth with his hands or bury his face in his shoulder the way she’d seen people do before.

Which, in this particular case, let her hear her reticent Mandalorian breathlessly curse her out in what seemed like five or six different languages. Cute.

“Well, that’s not very nice,” she told him, tickling lightly over the top of his captured foot. “You going to apologize?”

Mando looked uninclined to do so, even when she found a spot on the inner curve of his sole that made his entire leg shiver when she traced it with her nails. His low laugh exploded into high-pitched, desperate giggles, and Cara realized abruptly that she couldn’t even tell if he was smiling under there.

A few seconds later, it became clear that he’d been plotting instead. The second he managed to kick hard enough to shift her fingers from that deadly spot, he struggled up onto his elbows and, bypassing the entire armory he was still wearing, wrenched his leg free and kneed her solidly in the chin.

Rude. Well now she’d just have to keep going, wouldn’t she? She caught the next attempt at kneeing with her shoulder, getting a vice grip on the back of his thigh to lever his leg back down.

Mando screamed.

Cara jerked back, convinced that she’d managed to dislocate something. “Shit! Okay, hold still-”

She pressed in closer to assess the damage and almost took another blow to the face as he flailed in panic. “No! Nononooo, dohon’t-”

Were. Were those? Giggles? Ticklish giggles from someone who definitely had just gotten their death spot exposed?

“Don’t what?” Recovering, she squeezed his thigh again and rocked back in smug satisfaction as his pleading gave way to another scream. “Of all the spots not to armor up, huh?”

Mando squawked indignantly at the suggestion that his shiny carapace was inadequate, then squawked some more as she pinched her way up the back of his leg towards his knee. “Aw, don’t be mad; you know you could use a good laugh. Hey, are you ticklish here too?”

She wormed her fingers into the back of his knee, which didn’t make him scream again but did force him all the way back down to the ground as his entire body shook with helpless laughter. One leg flailed helplessly behind her - Cara looked back quickly to make sure they hadn’t somehow hurt the kid, but he was still upright and conscious and splashy in the quick glance she spared for him.

She was pretty sure there was going to be water all over her back when they were done here, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Mando was laughing too hard to surrender even if he tried, and she was determined to keep it that way until she tickled the suspicion and anxiety right out of him.

It was hard to tell when he was running out of breath, but as his kicking and squirming petered off she let him go with one last squeeze just above his knee. She was breathing a little hard herself - she hadn’t realized that she’d been laughing along with him. “You headed out for that patrol now?” she panted.

Mando lay there like the dead, one arm thrown weakly over his face, the rise and fall of his chest the only useful indicator of life.

Negative, then. She was getting used to reading his silences.

Ba went a little voice behind her. She twisted to see the kid standing, both arms raised imperiously - in her direction.

She wasn’t much for kids, but even she wasn’t heartless enough to ignore him. “He’s just taking a second to catch his breath,” she told him, picking him up under the arms. “Let’s get you dried off - or wait, here.”

Triumphantly, she plopped the soggy bundle of child onto Mando’s stomach and watched cool water trickle through the edges of his chestplate to the flight suit underneath.

Accepting his defeat, Mando grumbled half-heartedly and he reached to tousle the kid’s ears. “You liked the water, huh? Maybe we can come back.”

Aaa, the kid told him, producing a palmful of water to spatter over his helmet.

Cara snorted and stuck her feet back into the water. If this was domesticity, maybe she could live with it.

#tickling #star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin #cara dune #chocfic

[pikapikabishes]

It's Okay Now(Kirishima x gn!Reader)

Disclaimer: all characters rightfully belong to their original creators, only thing that is mine is the plot. Also do not copy my writing. Thank you

Summary: Class 3A's Y/n was having a jolly day hanging out with the BakuSquad, including her amazing bf of over 6 months, Eijirou Kirishima, even with all the stress piling up, like a shaken soda bottle ready to burst, until said explosion finally happened. Triggered by the littlest, probably stupidest event

Warnings: anxiety (?), panic attacks, not eating for days, mentions death, suggestive themes, a bit of swearing

Mentions: mental breakdown, overworking oneself, starvation, hyperventilating, ugly crying, kiri being absolutely biggest sweetheart, daddy!Kiri breifly

A/n: this is my first fic on Tumblr so please be nice, and if you enjoyed it, like and comment

Everything hurt. My head, my eyes, my chest, my mind. I don't even know what happened. One minute I'm perfectly fine, having a good time with my friends, the next I'm in this situation.

Im sitting in the middle of my dorm on the floor, crying and sobbing over the smallest thing. I admit being stressed with everything going on in my life; with upcoming school exams , training every single day to improve my ultimate moves, and the biggest clicher... my dad's passing a couple months prior.

This whole time I've just been bottling it all up, trying my hardest to put up a brave front as to not worry my mom, who already has a lot on her plate, my friends and boyfriend, Kirishima. To be frank, I haven't even told my class or Kiri, keeping a bright smile as to not hint them in on my life crashing down around me. Some days are easy to keep up my smile, to let my mind focus on something else, and then there are harder days when everything reminds me of my dad.

I was real close to him, we did a lot of fun stuff together; going to amusement parks, going out to see movies we both were really excited to watch, going out to eat at our favorite restaurants.

It still doesnt feel real after all this time. It felt just like yesterday he was perfectly fine, we were celebrating my grandma's birthday, and literally the next day, I find him stiff and eerily still in his bed. And then everything crashing down on me as the paramedics regretfully tell me that my dad was no longer of this world, when I sob into the phone to my mom that my dad was gone, when I listened to my grandma's wails as my mom told her of her son's passing.

It all felt so surreal, like if I go over to see my grandma at her house, I'll see my dad sitting there in the living room, greeting me with his smile and warm hugs and kisses.

I sob harder as I remember all the times we watched Disney movies and me crying at some scenes as my dad happily comforts me. Buying me a toy from one of the movies I adored at the time. Him gifting me a puppy when he moved into a new neighborhood and I didnt have anyone to play with.

My head's pounding, a deep pressure in my brain, as I clutch tightly to the same doll he bought me all those years ago. My screams silent as I try to keep my classmates from finding me in such a pathetic state and worrying about me, my brain not processing that everyone was still at school. I fought to take control of my emotions again, wanting to be strong for my mom, grandma, and my friends. Unknowning of the pace of my breathing as I desperately tried to grasp my emotions.

My stress and anxiety climbing higher with each panicked breath. All those late nights I stayed up studying as much as I can for the midterm exams, catching up to me. I even forsaken eating as to study so I can at least get a passing grade. And the times I didnt spend studying was spent training to try and get my mind to focus on anything rather than fully face the reality that I no longer live in a world with my dad in it.

When was the last time I had a fulfilling meal? Three days?? And the time before that?? I dont even remember, the pounding in my head preventing me from thinking too much. All I can think about is what caused this stupid meltdown in the first place, my frustrations climbing higher with my stress and anxiety.

~~~

Today was one of those days where it was hard to keep up my smile for people. In an attempt to cheer myself up, I made myself the same lunch my dad and I used to make together for later, excited to eat as this was my first actual meal in days.

As I stroll down the hallways to meet up with Kiri and the rest of the BakuSquad, someone in a rush, bumps into me full force, causing me to fall and drop my lunch on the floor. I only had a moment to grieve as I see my precious lunch splattered all over the floor before the person that bumped into me uttered a measly, rushed "sorry" before hurrying on their way, stepping my lunch in the process.

I stayed there in my position on the floor, looking at my lunch with grief. I know it was stupid to start crying over something that can be replaced with something else that Lunch Rush made, but there the crocodile tears were. My heart and mind had wanted that lunch.

Without thinking I got up and ran out of school and towards the dormitories, deaf to the calls of my fellow 3A classmates and the incoming call on my phone.

~~~

I was brought back to the present by the sound of pounding coming from my dorm door. I was still fighting for control, not able to send a reply without my sobs mixing in with my voice.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" A familiar voice sounded through the door. Of course it would be Kiri to be checking up on me. "I tried calling you to see where you were, but you didn't answer. Tsuyu told me she saw you running off upset when I went to go looking for you."

For some reason I sobbed harder, barely able to keep quiet.

"Princess/Prince, please tell me what's wrong, I'm getting really worried."

He stayed quiet for a moment, anxiously waiting for my response. And of course my body betrays me when an ugly sob wracks through my very being, unable to quiet it down.

"Princess/Prince, are you crying?!" Kiri's voice carried his panic and worry. "I'm coming in!" He warned before slamming the door open.

I barely raised my head to meet his worried crimson eyes as his giant frame took up most of the doorway, frozen. His expression falls at the sight of the giant crocodile tears running down my face, distress written all over my expression.

Without saying anything, he rushed over to my side, his big, warm hand landing on my back, immediately rubbing gentle circles as to comfort me.

"Baby, what's wrong? Tell me," he asked, voice trying to soothe me. I shook my head, unable to say or utter a word and I dropped my head again, breathing erratic. "You're hyperventilating, baby. You need to try and calm down a bit."

More sobs was the only thing I responded with. Hearing some shuffling, a moment passed before a soft calming melody sounded through the storm in my mind, along with the sound of gentle falling rain. It was the same several hour music track that I would usually listen to when something was bothering me.

I've always loved the sound of falling rain and ocean waves.

Kiri dropped his phone to the floor, letting the music wrap us in its soothing melody. He brought his hand to my cheek to gently bring my face up and face him. His expression sad as he gets a better look at my distraught, of the crocodile tears streaming down my face, of the deep sadness in my eyes.

Letting his other hand to join my face, he gently wiped away my tears as I tried to control my breathing. "Baby, you have to calm down. It's okay now, I'm here," he said in a gentle voice, bringing me up onto his lap, and wrapping his strong arms around me.

I clutch onto his uniform jacket, burying my face into his chest as I sobbed away, ruining his uniform with my tears and snot.

He gently rocked the both of us, bringing one of his hands up to my head as he softly brushed his fingers through my hair. "Shhh, baby. It's okay. It's okay," he whispered in my ear.

I don't know how long we sat there, listening to falling rain, Kiri rocking us, whispering calming words into my ear before my breathing was back to normal and my sobs turning into sniffles. Even long after I've calmed down, Kiri still held onto me tightly, grounding me from the storm whirling in my mind.

Only when I lifted up my head from his chest to look up at him did he give me a soft smile, reaching up to brush away strands of hair from my face and eyes. Then, Kiri reached over to his phone, pausing the music before turning back to me.

"Feeling better?"

I slowly nodded my head, my voice hoarse as I finally managed to give a reply, "Yeah, a little bit."

"What happened back there?" Kiri asked, his brow furrowed in worry.

Tears were already welling up in my (e/c) eyes, my bottom trembling as I fought to hold back the tears. Kiri reached up one hand to hold my chin, his thumb softly brushing my bottom lip.

"Please baby, I hate seeing you so distraught," he told me, eyes full of concern as he continued to stroke my bottom lip, as if trying to coax the words to come out, to explain what was paining me so much so he can fix it.

"I-" I stuttered, sniffling back the tears. "I miss him."

"Miss who, baby?" Kiri asked, confused.

"M-my dad," I said, voice now shaky as the tears started falling again. "I m-miss him so much."

Kiri seemed to come to the conclusion that I might have only been extremely homesick. "Why dont you go visit him today then? It's Friday, so you can just stay with him for the weekend."

I violently shook my head. "I-I can't."

"Why not, baby?" He started stroking my back again to try and comfort me.

"H-he died! Two months ago!" I sobbed, pressing my face to his chest again.

"Oh fuck. Shit, I am soo sorry baby. Why didn't you tell me?" Kiri asked, hugging me tightly to him. "I would've been there for you."

"I-I didn't w-want to w-worry y-you," I cried.

Kirishima started rocking us both again, his grip on me tighter as if trying to hold me together. "Of course I'm going to be worried baby. I have been worried about you. I noticed you've been distancing yourself for a while now, but I didn't want to make you talk when you weren't ready. God, I'm so unmanly, not realizing that you were in so much pain all this time." He placed his hand on top of my head. "I am sooo sorry, baby."

I sniffled, shaking my head. "D-Don't be. I w-was the one who d-decided not to t-tell any of you g-guys. I-it's not your f-fault."

"But why didn't you tell us baby? You know we all would've been here for you."

I shrugged. "I-I just wanted to be s-strong for y-you guys. I d-didn't want to w-worry any of you."

"Oh, babe." He pulled back enough to look at me. "You are strong. But it's okay to lean on us, on mee. Just because you're crying, doesn't make you weak. You're mourning, and its okay to cry when you're mourning. It just shows how close you are with your dad and how much you're missing him."

"But... But it feels like my fault though," I cried.

"What do you mean?" His brows furrowed again in confusion.

"I... I was there that night. The night he passed." I wiped at the tears even though it was fruitless with how the tears continued to fall. "We were all happily celebrating my grandma's birthday. We were all laughing. And I went to sleep a bit late that night. I noticed how his was position in his bed when I got up to use the bathroom, but I didnt think any of it. My dad sits in that position sometimes, and I know that he goes to sleep way later than me. And when I woke up at 11 the next morning because of my grandma calling for me, I got up to see what she needed. You remember, that my grandma cant really move around that well anymore?" I asked him.

Kiri nodded his head, remembering that I helped my grandma when the two of us had dinner with my dad and grandma. "So when I got up and headed towards her room, I saw my dad in the same position. But figured he must've just fallen asleep... Then I went to use the bathroom after helping my grandma, and when I looked closer, I noticed how swollen his feet were. I... I knew my dad was always sick and his legs getting swollen all the time, but... I-I just didnt think I'd find him like that." I cried, covering my mouth as another sob wracked threw me. "Vomit... All over the blankets and his bierd... A blood clot hanging from his nose-"

"Shhh, its okay, baby" Kiri hushed me, rubbing my back, "If it's too much for you, you don't have to explain anymore."

After waiting for my breathing to stabilize again, I continued, "I... I just feel like if I had checked up on him before I went to bed... Maybe... Maybe the paramedics would've been able to save him..."

Kiri grabbed onto my shoulders to pull me away so as to look me dead in the eyes with a stern look. "Y/n, listen to me. It is not your fault," he said firmly. "Okay? It is not your fault. Sometimes these things happen."

"But-" I started, but he cut me off.

"No but's. Okay? I know I havent known him as long as you, but I could tell from the first time I met him that he was soo proud of you. And probably still is." His words made me cry harder, my bottom lip trembling again as I tried to pull myself together in front of this amazing man in front of me. "There's no need to beat yourself up over this," Kiri said, pressing a kiss to my forehead as I started bawling my eyes out again. Kiri started rocking us again, holding me tight as I let out all my sadness and anguish.

"Shhhh... It's okay... Everything's will be okay..." He mumbled in my ear. "Let it all out."

We stayed like that for the next hour as I let out all my suffering, the scent of his cologne, the comforting words, and the sound of the music track all lulling me to sleep, my mind and body too heavy to fight it off.

~~~

I woke up to a dark room, the sun long gone over the horizon. I blearily blinked my eyes open, feeling my tears dried over the skin of my cheeks. All of a sudden, a warm hand slides under my shirt, rubbing a thumb on my stomach. A face was then buried into the back of my neck, a soft pair of lips kissing at the skin.

"Morning beautiful/handsome," came Kiri's sleep filled voice

"Mmnn what time is it?" I mumbled.

Kiri pulled away for a moment, turning to reach behind him for presumably his phone on my nightstand. Squinting at the glare of the phone, Kiri gave me an answer, "7 o'clock at night, so its just about dinner time." Dropping his phone back onto the nightstand, he resumed his position of spooning me, completely dwarfing my body with his giant frame. "You haven't ate lunch right?"

I shook my head. "Or breakfast. Or dinner last night. Or any meals for the past few days."

"What?" Kiri shot up, glaring down at me. "And the time before that?"

I shrugged, my brain too drained to think of a solid answer. "Couple days."

"Y/n!"

"I know, I know. I shouldn't be skipping my meals everyday. I should eat at least once a day."

"Is that why you look thinner? Cause you've been skipping your meals??!"

I shrug at him. "I was busy studying for the midterms. Besides I never went 3 days without eating something."

"That's not the point!" Kiri rubbed his hand down his face before looking at me with worry. "You shouldn't be skipping any meals or overworking yourself like this." He reached over to brush a lock of hair away. "Babe, my heart hurts at the thought of you not taking care of yourself."

I place my hand on top of his, leaning into his touch. "I know... I'm sorry. I didnt mean to worry you like this. I just... couldn't come to terms with reality so I busied myself to make me forget the pain. On the bright side I came up with this new, awesome ultimate move I've been dying to show you," I said with some excitement, trying to cheer him up.

He scowled sternly at me for a moment before sighing, shaking his head, any trace of worry and frustration gone from his face as a small smile took over his lips. "Alright fine." But then the stern look came back as he firmly told me, "But I'm not letting you skip any meals anymore, even if I have to force you to eat. And you're not doing no studying or training this weekend."

"Wait, but-" I tried to counter, stopped when the stern look in his eyes intensified.

"No if's, and's or but's. Unless its yours up in the air as I fuck you so hard you wont be able to do anything this weekend but relax."

I blushed and swallowed loudly. "Good, now wait here while I go get you a plate. Bakugou's supposed to be cooking tonight." He leaned down to plant a kiss on my lips. Then another. Then another and another before pulling away only slightly to look into my eyes with that familiar dark look in his eyes, a smirk forming on his handsome face. "Maybe I should grab you two plates. You're going to need it for fuel for tonight."

My faced burned as I realized what he meant. He chuckled darkly before standing up and walking towards the door. "I'll be back in a few. And you better be stripped down to nothing by the time I get back." Turning back towards me with a seductive look. "Don't you worry about a thing, baby girl/boy. Daddy's going to take real good care of you this weekend." Then he opened the door and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

I gulped loudly, already feeling that familiar heat down below.

It was going to a long weekend.

#gender neutral #anguish #daddy kirishima #mentally drained #kirishima eijiro x reader #my hero academia

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Deep Blue Fantasy Part One

Pairing: Merman!Tamaki x fem reader

Warnings: None

{Pt. 1}  {Pt. 2}  {Pt. 3}  {Pt. 4}  {Pt. 5}  {Pt. 6}  {Pt. 7}

Author's Note:

It’s here! Finally! An AU by me! Yay! This is just part one of a little mini-series I decided to do. I had a lot of fun writing this and exploring the concept! I played around with different ideas and I think I might do another mermaid/man AU with a different character (because I like recycling ideas). Feel free to leave your own ideas, requests, and suggestions!

Btw, this whole story is going to be x fem!reader.

Also, after much thought I decided NOT to make Tamaki half-octopus (even though I thought about it and I love that idea).

I would like you to know that my friend calls him Tomato.

Enjoy some fun times with Mermaki and Merio!

-Sugar

くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡

You inhaled deeply, the sea breeze perfectly filling your lungs. Salty water sprayed itself over your bare legs, droplets collecting and running down in cool rivulets that tickled the surface of your skin.

Every morning you came out on the beach, watching the tumultuous waves crash over each other in the distance. Every day it was different. The sky might be a deep gray, reflecting upon the sea, turning her waters a mysterious black. Others the sky was clear and blue, and the ocean looked bright and inviting. But you knew her secrets. The ocean was one to be respected. No one dared enter her. The people of your island only looked on, scanning her depths. She was never benevolent.

You couldn't help but be drawn to her, however. The breeze flooded your senses, the sounds of the waves calmed you, and her sight hurled you into an almost poetic state. You began to hum, the music intertwining with the curls of deep green water. The form of a bird caught your attention, and you watched it catch the cool updrafts of the ocean breeze.

While you stood there, distractedly humming, something else was watching you. Someone.

Pale arms hugged a black rock protruding out of the water as the dark-haired figure watched your form, skirt fluttering in the breeze. He sighed, watching you, your gentle voice carrying over the water into his pointed awaiting ears. Tamaki Amajiki had a morning routine of his own, and that was watching you follow yours. Every day he would show up early to wait for you by the rocks, watching your angelic form as you gazed out wistfully at the sea.

Tamaki had decided that what he was doing was not spying, or at least, he detested thinking of it as such. He just . . . enjoyed watching you. He had no ill intentions behind it. He simply found you to be the most wonderful and interesting thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

There was only one problem. Well, maybe two.

One. He was shy. Even amongst peers that he didn't idolize as much as he did you, he often found himself struggling to speak. He had no idea how to approach you. What if you didn't like him back? What if you weren't interested in being friends? What if you thought the two of you were too different?

His second problem: he was a merman. You were a human. How could that even work out? The existence of his kind was one of the most closely guarded secrets of the ocean. He wasn't even supposed to be this close to shore.

Tamaki had always had a fascination with humans. He knew his part of the empire was close to a human settlement, but it had taken him up until a few months ago to work up the courage to go take a glimpse of the island's shore for himself. That was when he had spotted you, and upon cautiously swimming closer, heard your voice.

Ever since, he'd come back every day, just to see you, to hear you. He longed to speak to you, to learn more about you and your kind, but he simply wasn't ready yet.

He watched your chest rise and fall as you heaved in a final sigh of sea air. Tamaki pushed himself further down into the crashing waves and longingly watched you turn and go. What he would give to be able to follow you where he could not.

Once you were gone, he never lingered. As the sight of your (H/L) (H/C) hair disappeared over the crest of the hill, he would depart, not wanting to be spotted by another member of your species. With a few flicks of his powerful deep indigo-black tail, he was once again under the waves, alone in the comforting cold wetness. He sped through the water, making his way home.

Just as he saw the soft glow of the little town he'd grown up in, he was jolted to the side, being grabbed by a pair of strong arms. Tamaki made a little squeaking noise in his throat in surprise, squeezing his eyes shut.

Bubbles tickled his cheeks as they marched across his face, desperate to reach the surface. He opened his eyes again to be met with clear blue ones, still crinkled in the aftermaths of laughter.

"Got you!" Tamaki's best friend, Mirio, signed to him.

Tamaki rolled his eyes, relaxing his shoulders slightly. He had thought he had been discovered by one of the town leaders. He tried to make his visits to the surface as discreet as possible, but someone had to question his routine absence each morning eventually.

"I guess you did," Tamaki signed back.

The merpeople communicated in a combination of sign language and high pitched squeaks and clicks, much like dolphins. While their voice boxes had difficulties speaking like we humans do, they could manipulate them to create an eerie, haunting music, just as the ancient legends of sailors described.

"Where were you?" Mirio asked, his face changing from bright and humorous to nigh concerned.

Tamaki faltered slightly, trying to think of how to answer. "Just looking for shells for my collection," he lied.

Mirio looked down at his empty arms. "Didn't find any?"

"Nope."

He looked into Tamaki's face again, suspicion settling over his features. The two had been friends since they were very young, and Mirio had learned Tamaki's ways better than even his own parents.

"Do you want help finding some?" he asked, wiping the expression off his face and changing it to a more cheerful one. He'd let it slide, just this once.

"No, thank you," Tamaki responded. "I think I'll just head home."

"Okay." The blond merman watched his friend swim off. Something wasn't right, and he knew it was up to him to find out what it was that his friend was up to.

✤✤✤✤✤

The next morning, Mirio went straight to Tamaki's house. The blond was used to waking up early, but he usually spent his mornings with himself; working out or some other such self-improvement he allowed himself to indulge in in order to make himself the strong, cheery merperson he was. Today, however, he decided to check up on his friend.

Sure enough, just as he was approaching the mound of stones and sea mud that was the home of his best friend, Mirio saw the retreating dark purplish-blue tail of Tamaki. He subtly began to follow him, keeping a distance just enough so he would still be able to see the flashing of his friend's tail ahead of him. After about ten minutes, Mirio began to suspect where they were going.

Isn't that island in this direction? What are you doing over here, Tamaki? he wondered to himself.

Another fifteen minutes or so later, the water became more shallow and littered with black rocks. Mirio sped up, occasionally utilizing the new terrain to hide from his unsuspecting friend. Now that they were so far away, Tamaki had completely stopped checking behind him, and Mirio watched as he hoisted his waist out of the water, pulling himself up above the crashing waves.

Mirio stared at him, confused for a few minutes as his friend propped himself against the rock, clearly watching for something. He suddenly noticed him stiffen, now clearly more alert. It appeared as though whatever he had been waiting for had arrived. But what was it?

Mirio couldn't take it anymore. He swam the few lengths of distance that he had kept between them and popped his own head out of the water beside Tamaki.

His black-haired friend jumped at his sudden appearance.

"What are you doing?" Mirio signed.

Tamaki fearfully glanced toward shore before tackling Mirio, pushing him back underwater.

"What are you doing?" Tamaki frantically signed back.

"I wanted to know what you were doing."

Tamaki glanced up towards the surface, unsure of what to do.

"What's on the beach?" Mirio asked. "That's what you were looking at, right?"

Tamaki suddenly felt his cheeks begin to warm, color flooding his pale skin. "There's a human over there," he finally signed, deciding to tell his best friend everything.

Mirio stiffened, now uneasy. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"You know how dangerous they are, right? They're stupid but they'll kill you if you get too close. It hasn't seen you, has it?"

"No no." Tamaki shook his head, an uncomfortable feeling of annoyance settling in his chest. "I just stay over here and watch. Besides, I don't think she'd hurt anything."

"She?" Mirio asked, incredulous.

"Do you want to see for yourself?" Tamaki asked. "She should still be there."

Mirio narrowed his eyes warily.

"She hasn't noticed me yet," Tamaki went on, trying to soothe his friend. "I've been coming here for a while now. If you just make sure you're behind one of these rocks, it's like you're invisible."

Mirio slowly flared his gills in the merperson version of a sigh. Of course Tamaki would figure out how to be invisible.

Tamaki turned and hoisted himself out of the water again and Mirio did the same, pulling himself against a bigger rock a length away from his friend. He spotted you immediately, the light fabrics of your clothing contrasting the black sand beach. The two mermen watched as you gazed up at the sky, studying the white puffy shapes of the clouds above, being quickly blown about by the wind.

Mirio had only been to the surface a few times, and each occasion he was startled by how different the air was from the water, yet somehow almost the same. He knew that wind was the same as currents, birds an equivalent to fish, but clouds always amazed him. He liked their shapes and colors, each one decorating the atmosphere in its own unique way.

He found himself looking up too, and soon he spotted a cloud whose shape reminded him of a conch shell. He looked to Tamaki, prepared to point it out when he saw the expression on his friend's face.

He had never seen such a look of soft love swimming in his dark eyes. A small wistful smile had spread across his lips, and a light shade of pink dusted over his cheeks.

Beginning to catch on, Mirio looked from him to you and then back to his friend. He liked you, that much was blatantly clear. A grin of his own rose to Mirio's features, his sharp teeth flashing in the morning sun. He leaned over to Tamaki and nudged him, giving him a knowing look.

"You like her." Mirio signed, stating the obvious.

Tamaki blushed further, shrugging.

Mirio opened his mouth to click something, but Tamaki halted him by shoving a finger over his lips.

"Wait," he signed, pointing back to you.

As if on cue, music began to float over the water, carried by the breeze. They were lucky that the wind blew so, although it was still a bit of a strain to hear your voice.

Tamaki melted back against the rock, closing his eyes to fully take in the sound of your aubade.

Mirio watched him pityingly. His friend was hopelessly in love with a human; the most dangerous species on the planet. How had Tamaki, the cautious, sweet, shy boy he was, taken such an interest into something like a human?

It was no secret that the vast majority of the mer population had at minimum a mild interest in humans. There was an odd kinship in the blatant similarities between them, so there was an undoubtable draw to their kind. Merpeople also knew, however, of the dangers humans held. Ships, plastics, fishing nets, things called labs and circuses; each one posed its own horror story against the species, driving merpeople further away from the shores.

"I wish I could talk to her," Tamaki said, his fingers softly forming meaning with their nimble gestures. He finally turned to Mirio. "You haven't seen what I have. She's kind and smart and pretty. Maybe some humans are no good, but I'm sure she is."

Mirio pushed his lips to the side, torn and thinking. "Why don't you just go up to her, then?"

Tamaki almost fell back underwater. "I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Well, first of all, I can't even speak Human."

Mirio glanced over at you, then back to Tamaki. "If she's so smart, she should be able to figure out something."

Tamaki slumped. "Yeah . . . ."

"So just go then! Say hi!"

Tamaki looked back at Mirio, horrified. "But that's so against the rules! Besides, weren't you saying how awful humans are a minute ago? What made you change your mind?"

"How you look at her," Mirio stated simply, causing Tamaki to blush all over again. "Just kill a fish or something and swim up and present it to her. How different can she be from the mermaids back home?"

Tamaki had never really flirted with any girls, primarily keeping to himself and hanging around Mirio. It was completely foreign territory to him, and the fact that you were a human only made it worse.

"She wouldn't even like me—"

"Nonsense!" Mirio countered, now beginning to grow frustrated with his friend. He knew Tamaki struggled with anxiety, but sometimes he simply couldn't understand why his friend couldn't just go out and take what he wanted.

The boys noticed that the music had stopped. They turned back to shore, watching as you stood and brushed yourself off. You left the beach, taking one final look at the waves before disappearing onto land.

Mirio slumped back in the water. "Now she's gone. You said she comes here every day?"

Tamaki hesitantly answered. "Yes."

"Well, come back tomorrow and confess your love!"

"I don't love—" Tamaki faltered, realization flooding his being. He did love you. Or, at least, he admired you. He wanted to get to know you enough to eventually love you. "How do I even have a chance?" he clicked sadly. "We're so different—"

Mirio put a hand on Tamaki's shoulder. "Love finds a way," he said. "I'm going to help you."

"You will?"

"Of course. What are best friends for?"

Tamaki allowed himself a small smile. "Thanks, Mirio."

Mirio gave his back a firm pat. "No problem. Now come on, let's go home and plan."

Apprehension welled in Tamaki's chest. What had he gotten himself into?

...

The two had found themselves at the library, digging through scrolls to find as much information as they could on the landwalkers. Most of it was fiction and unhelpful; children's stories warning against getting too close to boats and land.

They found a few history texts about human alliances with the merpeople, most of them occurring thousands of years ago.

"What happened?" Tamaki quietly clicked, running his fingers over artwork of the deity Poseidon.

Mirio shrugged, glancing at it over his shoulder. He picked up another scroll, this one newer. He unrolled it to find a little leaf of seaweed paper, text scrawled on its surface.

"Tamaki, look at this." Mirio nudged his friend, gesturing towards his discovery.

The Sea Witch, Tamaki read. Ancient artifacts to make your dreams come true!

"Want to give her a try?" Mirio asked. "She only lives a few leagues away."

"That's still a lot of swimming," Tamaki said, his fingers hesitant.

"It's for love," Mirio countered, waggling his eyebrows.

Tamaki bit his lip. "Okay. I guess it's worth a try."

Mirio pumped his fist in the water. "We're going on an adventure!"

...

To be continued . . . .

[Part Two]

くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡

Taglist: @inumorph​ @engel-hageshii​​ @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @pyrofanatic​ @sokkasangel​​ @xoxopam4​​ @kingtamakimurder​​

#tamaki #amajiki #tamaki amajiki #mermaki #tamaki bnha #tamaki amajiki bnha #tamaki mha #tamaki amajiki mha #tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #deepbluefantasy #sugar fics

[mnictasbcl]

With love, Connor

My story for @connor-sent-by-cyberlife’s #dbhghostsinthemachine day 1, prompt Unknown Sender.

Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor

Characters: Hank Anderson, Connor, DPD characters

Rating: Mature

Tags: Dark!Connor, Stalking, unhealthy obsession, Killing, Swearing, alternate character interpretation

Warnings: Potential Major Character Death

Summary: Packages start arriving at the DPD each day. They start off as solutions to unsolved crimes… and end up as the details of new crimes themselves. It seems the DPD is dealing with someone with no remorse about murder, someone who seems to only target the grizzled Lieutenant with no care to solve these cases.

Lieutenant Hank Anderson.

Read it on ao3! Or, read below

Each day, the DPD received a package.

The first time they opened it with caution. Parcels from unknown senders to a police station were never simply unwrapped like a Christmas gift. No, they were scanned through an X-ray machine to make sure it wasn’t a bomb.

But no explosive intent was found. They opened it slowly, two officers assigned to this case—

It was a stack of papers and photographs. Combing through it, the officers realised it was a solution to a years-old cold case.

Signed: With love, Connor

 The second day amassed quite some interest. More senior officers were assigned to this taskforce, and budding new recruits invested their curiosity. Much the same, it was a slim package. They took their time through the steps to make sure it was safe, before handing it off to their best Lieutenant.

“Another package from the mysterious detective, Hank.”

“Fuck,” Hank groaned as he tore it open, finding again a stack of papers, some hand-drawn evidence included this time as well, “they’re gonna put me out of my job.”

With love, Connor

 On the third day, it wasn’t a cold case at all. Instead, it was a correction to a case they thought they’d solved weeks ago.

“Looks like you fucked up,” Hank said to the downtrodden officer who’d made the mistake, “but that’s not the issue here…”

He looked over the files for a few more moments.

“How in the hell did they find this case? It’s not in public records.”

With love, Connor

 On the fourth day…

“This is the case I was working on yesterday!” Hank slammed the files onto the desk. “I’d almost finished it…”

“Looks like he beat you to your job.” Gavin laughed. “Very impressive.”

“’s not fucking impressive. It’s creepy, is what it is. This person’s breaking a hundred laws and they’re shoving it right in our faces.”

On the fourth day, Hank decided he’d show up to work from now on and solve this mystery detective case for himself.

With love, Connor

  On the fifth day, Hank was assigned an android for a partner to solve this investigation. An RK800, state of the art police-detective prototype.

“Don’t need a partner, certainly not this plastic prick—”

Hank was forced to work with his new android partner.

But with no package arriving that day from the unknown sender, they had to work on a different case instead. Hank begrudgingly sent the android the files to work on with him. It seemed, however, to be a disaster of a job. The case lacked enough evidence to be solvable, and so by the end of the day, they had nothing.

“Christ, right on the day we need that creep to send us something and they don’t…” He mumbled as he walked off to the bathroom.

When he came back to his desk, the android was gone, and in his place was the solved case in a neat little package, signed with the words,

With love, Connor :)

   By the ninth day, Hank began to realise the unknown sender was only working on his cases. Everyone else in the department was bemoaning the lack of help on their work, particularly with the spree of crimes popping up around the city.

“Look, I’d rather they were helping you, not me—it’s fucking creepy.” He didn’t budge on the sentiment. Something didn’t feel… right.

“Perhaps they’re just trying to help.” His android partner suggested.

“Help me by freaking me out? No way. Now come on, we’ve got a double homicide to investigate.”

   On the twelfth day, Hank complained about lack of work with all of his cases getting solved for him.

  On the thirteenth, he had two murders and a vandalization to solve.

The murders were fairly cut and dry, but no evidence was left behind.

“There are no traces of thirium,” Connor told him at the second scene, “but I believe I have the same conclusion as earlier: the lack of evidence suggests an android is the suspect.”

“Great, androids are killing people now. Don’t you get any ideas, you hear me?”

Connor smiled. It was slanted, obviously forced. “I wouldn’t kill you, Lieutenant.”

Hank laughed awkwardly. “Thanks. Now, uh, let’s go and check out the vandalism, then we can end this long fuckin’ day.”

  The vandal had signed their work on the Detroit bridge in the blood of the second victim,

To Lieutenant Anderson,

With love, Connor

   Hank didn’t show up to work the next day.

     ………………………………………………………………………………………………

 But on the next, as he turned up an hour and a half late, he collided with the android at his desk.

“Lieutenant! You’re here. I was worried you weren’t going to come back.”

Was that concern? Hank thought, before scoffing at himself. Yeah, right, androids didn’t feel anything. But if he was going to place a bet on this android’s emotional tone—it was less akin to worry, and more like desperation, if anything was to go from the way static crackled through his words.

“Yeah, I was just taking a day off.”

“Fowler didn’t say you requested one.”

“I took a day off.” He shrugged.

Connor frowned, but nodded, sitting at his desk. “Make sure you don’t do that anymore, Lieutenant Anderson. You’re a good detective, and you have a case to solve.”

Despite the android’s words, Hank slacked off for the rest of the day. No work was done, and not even from their mysterious detective.

   The next morning (whatever day of packages sent— Hank had given up counting), it seemed the mystery man was back at work.

But seemingly to account for Hank’s slacking, it wasn’t a package they received today. It was a set of coordinates.

After the double murder and obviously connected vandalization, Hank concluded that these were the coordinates to the scene of a crime.

 Yet when they arrived—it was an empty warehouse. Their numerous officers split up into groups, at Hank’s orders.

They had been hesitant to leave him so alone, especially with his connection to the crimes, but he had waved them off.

“I’ll keep the android with me. ‘m sure he’ll protect me—I mean, it’s mentioned at least a hundred times that it’s state of the art, so…”

Thus, Hank was left with Connor to take a more investigative approach to the scene.

“It’s literally an empty warehouse. Fucker probably thought he’d mess with us today, for some reason.”

Connor frowned. “That doesn’t seem like the modus operandi of our suspect, Lieutenant. They’re smart, they wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

“Yeah, why’s that?”

“Because it seems obvious that they’re interested in your detective skills. They take you to crime scenes, send you improvements upon your work—they want you to become a better detective.”

Hank blinked. Huh, that was a new outlook on the mystery man, sure.

It was also one he’d never heard the android mention before.

“You been thinking about this a lot, then?”

“Of course. It’s my mission, I think about nothing else.”

Hank snorted. “That must be fun. Come on, don’t you ever think of doing anything else? Finding interests, uh, hobbies… slacking off for once in a while—”

“Does that better your detective work, Lieutenant?”

“Uh, I guess so, yeah. If I was always a hard-ass on myself about work, then I’d probably get sick of working.”

“Noted. Thank you, Hank.”

  The warehouse turned out to be nothing. Maybe the suspect was messing with them, after all.

      ………………………………………………………………………………………………

 Some day the next week, Hank was phoned by an unknown number. Also, the android didn’t turn up to work.

‘Lieutenant Anderson?’

He cursed upon hearing the voice. By now he was sure this was the suspect—but they had been smart enough to change up their voice, leaving no way to identify them.

“Speaking.”

‘This is… is… your friend. Connor.’

“Don’t know if that’s what I’d call guys who send me weird shit and kill people, but go on.”

‘We are friends, Lieutenant. We spend time together; we have common interests. That is what’s defined by friendship.’

Oh yeah, this was definitely a fucking android.

“Whatever. Just cut to the chase—what do you want?”

‘Ah, I do admire your dedication to your work. That’s definitely improved. But, fine. I’m just… warning you. You have a week left to solve my case, otherwise…’

“…otherwise?”

‘You become the next case.’

The phone clicked off.

     A minute later, the android turned up for work.

“I’m so sorry, Lieutenant, I always try to be punctual but—”

“Just sit your ass down. We need to work, now.”

Connor smiled. “I admire your work ethic.”

     Throughout the week, neither Hank nor the android were assigned any new cases, Fowler made sure of it.

Instead, they poured over evidence from every package the suspect had sent them, to images of every crime scene he’d created.

 Halfway through the week, it didn’t seem they were getting anywhere.

“Fuck, he could be anyone! But he acted like he knew me… but… if there was someone coming into the DPD, or spying on us through the security system, we’d know!” He slammed his fists against the desk yet again.

“Perhaps you need to look closer.” Connor suggested.

“Yeah, think I’m looking at the evidence close enough, thanks a lot.”

“You don’t understand. Maybe the suspect is closer than you think.”

Hank frowned.

      He was doing that a lot, lately. This android completely puzzled him. Sometimes he would say stuff like that, completely out of nowhere. Just like when he’d suggested about the suspect’s interest in his investigative work.

It was probably because he wasn’t human. Random, oddly specific statements. Probably been cooking them up in his metal brain or something, bestowing his help on Hank only at random times, as if he didn’t need help more often than that. Like a teacher dropping hints when you asked for help, trying to guide you to the right answer…

Hank pondered this all one evening, two nights before the deadline. Literally, his dead-line. He assumed the suspect was probably going to kill him if his cryptic threat had been anything to go by.

     ………………………………………………………………………………………………

 The next morning, he began to piece the facts together.

It wasn’t a lot to go on. But once he’d decided that the android’s facts were of any help, he’d put them alongside the evidence and stared, hard. Being a Sunday, he was at home with more opportunity to sit and concentrate, ponder over the information.

 ·        Interested in my detective skills.

·        They’re closer than you think.

 Well, if he took these literally—who did he know that was interested in his detective skills?

He tried proof by elimination.

Fowler? Nope, he was usually berating Hank for his work ethic.

Gavin? No way.

Chris, Ben, Tina, the rest of the officers at the DPD? It didn’t seem like any of them could be this mysterious detective…

That was when it hit him, sitting on his couch on Sunday night. They had made one big mistake.

He didn’t know a lot of people at all.

  And who was new, who had appeared around the same time the packages and the crimes had, who was just as cryptic as the suspect, who—

His doorbell rang, loud and clear.

 Hank looked at the time. Fuck, 12.00am. His deadline.

 With slow steps he moved towards the door and wasn’t surprised to open it and see the android. A smile on his face, LED a calm blue…

“Connor.”

“Lieutenant Anderson.” He replied. “Good work, but I’m afraid, you’re too late. You’ve missed our deadline.”

And with one swift, inhumanly fast motion, he knocked Hank out.

       ………………………………………………………………………………………………

 When he came back to, with a dull pain thumping in the front of his head, he saw the vast expanse of the empty warehouse.

Struggling did nothing; his wrists and ankles were bound to the chair he was sitting on.

“You know,” a voice to the side of him spoke- Connor, “it is a shame you were late. I was beginning to be impressed with your work.”

Hank found the android eventually, sitting at a desk a few feet away, writing on a piece of paper.

“But your work ethic—”

“I know, I know,” Hank interrupted, “Fowler’s always on my ass about that. And I can’t blame you if you were my partner for so long…”

“It’s such a waste of talent!” Connor’s voice rose, no longer cool and collected as it usually was. He swiped something off his table, landing on the ground with a crash, inky black fluid spilling across the floor. “You were such a good detective, Lieutenant. But you continue to show up to work late, you—”

“Well, I bet you know why.”

“Yes, I do. Your son.” Connor shrugged. “I do understand why they built androids without emotions. It’s a distraction.”

Hank watched as he paced away from the desk, coming to stand in front of him, still and staring.

“But you won’t have to worry about that soon. No, once I’ve finished writing your evidence… you’ll won’t have to worry anymore…”

Hank spotted his stolen gun, poking out of the android’s pocket. Well, if his death was inevitable… then it wouldn’t hurt to try anything to wriggle his way out of it.

“And so you say you androids don’t have any emotions. But what’s all this, then?” He gestured around him. “All of this you planned with me. Stalking me, sending those files, this obsession—”

“There’s nothing wrong with me!” Connor shouted, LED blaring red. He then took a moment, straightened his tie, and continued. “I do not have errors in my software, Hank. I’m simply conducting an investigation.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that? Did Cyberlife assign you to creep some old Lieutenant out, then?”

“No, it was self-assigned.”

“Thought you had to obey all those orders Cyberlife gave you.”

“I’m beyond that.” Connor replied simply, cryptically, before turning around, heading back to the desk. “The mission Cyberlife assigned me was frivolous.”

“That seems a mighty big task for an order-following, emotionless android—”

“It was logic that guided me to a new mission, Lieutenant Anderson. Investigating deviancy, emotions in androids, is a waste of my time because androids don’t have emotions! It’s a logical inconsistency.” He sat down, picking up his pen.

“But I did find the Lieutenant they assigned me to for the case interesting. Therefore, I gave myself a new mission. Investigate emotions in humans.”

Hank scoffed. “You aren’t gonna get much out of that. Emotions don’t make sense.”

“Yes, I see that now. So, I altered my objective—try and stop troublesome human emotions. And, well, as I’ve said, you were once a great detective. And still are. But you are being hindered by your emotions. By setting a tricky but intriguing case, I thought I’d tempt you out of being so damaging to yourself, to your abilities. You were even beginning to work on the case. But you didn’t care! You… didn’t care. You would still turn up late to work, or even not at all—and you were making no progress on the investigation. It didn’t make sense.

“So,” Connor continued, looking up from his papers, “I dropped hints. I helped you with the investigation. I turned up instead of sitting in the shadows, sending you evidence each day. And yet you… it took you so long to figure it out, that I don’t think you even cared.”

“It was a hard case, Connor—”

“You figured it out after the deadline. If you hadn’t wasted time before, you would have been more efficient. But it isn’t any trouble anymore.” He wrote a few more lines before stopping, setting his pen back down. “I know that it isn’t your fault. You can’t help having emotions.”

Connor stood up, lining up the papers into a neat stack before sealing them up into a package.

“So, I’ve concluded my investigation. There’s only one way to stop humans being hindered by their emotions.”

He brought the package over to Hank, placing it gently on his knees. “Don’t have any regrets, I don’t blame you. But it is a shame. I do think, if you’d succeeded, we could have been friends.”

“Connor, please—don’t do this—” Hank begged, beginning to struggle fruitlessly against his restraints.

“I’m afraid I have to, Lieutenant Anderson. But I’ll give you one chance. You were special, after all, and you do have potential.

“Find a way to escape this, and you’re free. Because if you solve this impossible case, if you escape from my restraints, perfectly tied, durable rope—with no tools to help you, then you will have redeemed yourself. But,” he added, “you have to stick to my deadline this time. If you haven’t escaped within three days…”

“I’ll be dead.” Hank finished for him.

“Exactly. But you’re smart. And if you don’t escape, don’t worry. Your case file is right here,” he gestured to the package on Hank’s lap, “documenting all the evidence for your friends at the DPD to help them figure out what happened.”

With that, Connor walked back over to his desk, tucked the chair in neatly, before walking away to the exit at the far end of the room.

“Do try not to die, Lieutenant Anderson,” he called back over his shoulder, “I’d hate to be disappointed again.”

 The doors clicked shut, and silence filled the room. Hank stilled, glancing about him for any tool to help, but found none. Only the empty desk too far away to even touch, the flickering light on the ceiling, and the package on his lap, words written on the front—

With love, Connor.

#dbhghostsinthemachine #dbh #detroit become human #connor #hank #dbh connor and hank #fanfic #dbh fanfic