#Master of disguise everyone.

[bakerstreetdetective]

@castilium

"Perfect like always Holmes."

He missed the chance to give Mashu a Xmas gift due to being distracted and a bit under the weather. But no way is he going to miss the chance for new years as it's a couple of stuff he knows she enjoy. He put a very well decorated gift basket in front of her unit as he smirk with pride.

A Chaldea style book mark

Some of her favorite tea.

Glasses cleaner fluid and the nicest case and cloth dust can buy

and some bath bombs. God knows that girl do a lot of physical related work and can use it. Just cause she a demi servant don't mean she can't enjoy herself as Holmes about to leave.

He....still want to be a part of their lifes as their friend. Holmes complex about hurting them slowly gotten better with time and assurance from Saber. But he don't think he ready yet to face them as he head down the stairs he bump into....Mashu

Huh she sure back from the cafe early. There this silence as Holmes try to compose himself.

Holmes take a puff of his pipe. Hmmm what should a genius detective say to get himself out of this situation since he been ghosting them (Not his fault. He have no idea how many layer of sleeper agent he in) for months and haven't REALLY had time to talked to Mashu since the whole invasion event?

Holmes put on a pair of party sun glasses on his coat pocket that say CHALDEA 2022 (his last new year with them before you know what)

".....would it be believable if i told you i'm the assassin of Shinjuku?"

It's a poor excuse. But Holmes is glad to see Mashu look.....less stress these days. God knows she and Ritsuka need it. Not having the burden of saving the world been doing wonder for their sleep.

[jaedoesart]

New bean? Maybe? 👀

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 29: Disguise

Yumi would’ve been a cute substitute name 💕

[lloydfrontera]

NOVEL SPOILERS 🖤

Just gotta love the fact that in the final chapters, but really let's face it- the fact that in the ENTIRE novel, it builds up on the viewpoint of Javier on how he constantly fails to protect Lloyd whenever something terrible happens to him, and the fact that in the end, he really wasn't able to protect him, even as the strongest swordmaster in existence, and i just think it's funny how unresolved the whole thing was to the point that Javier thinks he doesn't deserve to cry over Lloyd's final letter to the fronteras znxnncnf

LIKE WHY SAY THAT JAVIER DESPERATELY WANTS TO HELP(he does, really), AND THEN NOT BE ABLE TO ACTUALLY PROTECT HIM manxnnxndjdh though, granted, in the final scene they did simultaneously protect each other cliche-ly via getting stabbed for the other, it's just hilarious how this didn't go anywhere as lloyd died anyway

The narrative really said "Javier can't protect lloyd but he can help in other means, i swear"

I just think that sad boy Javier hours :>>>>>>>>

oh god

oh fuck

you cannot do this to me the damage this ask did to my brain and heart is immeasurable

you are so right tho!! that was. that was a really strange plot thread to leave dangling like that. and like it starts all the way back to cremo! javier gets disappointed in lloyd and leaves him behind to go fight the zesty lobster only to later feel guilty about it because he should've protected lloyd and lloyd almost died because of him. then there's the mastodons incident and javier gets really angry that time because lloyd isn't supposed to put himself in danger! he has people for that! he has javier for that! and yeah this is shown as a good gesture from lloyd because he refuses to put his people in danger for him (and don't misunderstand me it is a good thing) but it's also the start of lloyd not asking for help and wanting to take all the worry by himself. and javier notices that. then there's namaran where once again javier can't find lloyd, he can't protect him, lloyd almost dies again because javier couldn't defeat the hell knight by himself. and javier feels so guilty about it! he starts trying and training and working even harder because! he wants to be strong enough to protect lloyd! and then comes the bone dragon fight where, yet again, javier thinks he failed lloyd and couldn't protect him. literally his last thoughts were about how sorry he was he couldn't save him and how he'd wanted to be there at his side for the rest of his life. favorite scene btw. and then he does! he does manage to save lloyd, he literally turns into a grandmaster to save lloyd (which btw, getting to a level of swordplay that is thought of as imposible just to save your best friend? that's g-)! and you'd think that'd be the end of that right? except that no, lloyd is a little shit who keeps getting into more and more trouble each time more dangerous than the last. and while javier doesn't struggle as much physically to protect him, now lloyd's problems start being of a kind javier can't help him with as essily! especially because lloyd refuses to let him know how he can help! and in lloyd's mind that makes sense, because he knows javier wouldn't even doubt to give his life in his place (even if he's like absolutely wrong in the reasons on why. which is. a topic for another post. we'll get to that. oh trust me. we're gonna get to that) but it does cut off javier from doing anything to help him! it cuts him off from a major part of the plot! and javier notices! he tries so hard to be there for lloyd, he gives lloyd so many chances to be truthful, he confronts him several times, hoping lloyd will trust him to tell him how can he help... and lloyd doesn't. he has his reasons but at the end it just comes out as him not trusting javier enough to let him help.

and that's never resolved! javier never gets the chance to be in equal footing to lloyd when it comes to resolving the situation! lloyd never actually tells him anything! correct me if im wrong but lloyd never even tells him he's not actually,,, well, he never tells him he got isekai'd! javier finds out on his own, he pieces it together all by himself and then the letter where lloyd tells the truth isn't even for him.

and i'm not saying javier should've died in lloyd's place, i kinda don't love when choosing to die is shown to be a heroic, always right, selfless, good act, honestly that's part of why i am ok with lloyd's sacrifice at the end. because it's shown to be a tragedy, something he desperately didn't want to do, something he fought so hard against, something he really didn't want to choose and it's meant to be sad, we're not meant to be satisfied or content with it.

but i do think not even telling him takes away so much of javier's agency, it cuts him off from further character development and like you say! it's just! a plot threat that's left dangling. it's never resolved, it's never addressed, we're just meant to see javier struggle with the feeling that he can't protect lloyd and then failing to protect him at the end, feeling so guilty about it he doesn't even allow himself to grieve for him.

maybe we're meant to see his admission of missing him and wanting to see him again at all costs as him finally being able to do something in order to protect and save lloyd? it is a thing that was mentioned very often, how javier constantly admits to himself that lloyd is a better person than he thought and how he does think they're best friends but also is not willing to say it out loud, so maybe him bring willing to broadcast it to everyone in order to get to lloyd is the pay off for that? but it feels a bit,,, unsatisfying. i do love it! like javier admitting how much he loves and misses lloyd, annoying one of the most powerful beings in his world and hopping universes to get to lloyd? absolutely amazing, i love it, wouldn't change a thing. but it does feel like they didn't address one of his biggest insecurities except to confirm it to the most extreme degree.

ANYWAY ALL THIS TO SAY you are very right, the narrative did say "fuck you" to javier, and it is sad hour times for our favorite knight 😔

unrealistic that we didn't get a montage of javier being extremely over protective of suho after getting him back. he probably would refuse to leave his side for a good while, being too afraid to even go to sleep because what if something happens and he isn't fast enough to protect him yet again? i will admit that is a good sandbox to built hurt/comfort fics 🤭

[shxwmaster]

someone pointed out that john behlmann's vocal range means that reasonably, mathias shaw is also very capable of changing his voice for espionage means. behlmann's voiced a few cards in hearthstone that sound pretty different from shaw, and given that he's certainly had to go undercover before, that's definitely a perk he needs to have

[valwrote]

PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒

WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?

featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.

synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.

warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)

a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.

DILUC 🍷

PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 

He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.

One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?

That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.

“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.

If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.

ALHAITHAM 🌱

PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.

Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?

Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.

“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.

“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.

This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.

ZHONGLI 🪨

PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.

"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."

WRIOTHESLEY 🐺

PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.

"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.

“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 

He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…

[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.

NEUVILLETTE 🌊

PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.

Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.

“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 

“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.

Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.

He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.

a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??

don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.

©definitelysel

[captainkirkk]

Concept: Veils are more widely worn in the ATLA universe for a variety of reasons

Zuko and Toph enjoy travelling together and their favourite disguise in the earth kingdom is: Strong earthbending noble escorting her shy, reclusive older brother.

People thought the Bei Fongs had one (1) daughter who was tiny, blind and fragile - until suddenly she was the avatar's earth bending master, so the public have accept that they know nothing about the Bei Fongs. Who's the say they DIDNT have another child that they carefully hid away? Especially considering THIS child is dressed in neutral browns and muted golds with a veil obscuring his face. And sometimes people catch a glimpse of gold eyes or scar tissue through the gauzy fabric. It makes sense that the Bei Fongs would hide away a child born of an affair with a firebender.

Toph loves playing the part of escort. She gets to boss him about, and drag him all around the best restaurants, and order an outrageous amount of food for him. It's nice having people default to speaking to HER as the authority figure, after spending so much time in the presence of the Avatar and the Fire Lord.

And Zuko gets to be anonymous. He's not the Fire Lord when he puts that veil on, he's a reclusive and fragile noble who no one looks to to make decisions. He gets to switch his brain off and let Toph drag him around and speak for him. It's freeing.

Also: please imagine the look on the Bei Fongs faces when they hear that everyone thinks they have a secret hidden firebending son who's galavanting around with their run away daughter. They'd be HORRIFIED. Toph knows this and RELISHES in it.

[linuseer]

I'm tired of people defining Aang as this boring little vanilla guy. Aang helped Katara destroy a factory. He participated in Toph's scams. He shrugged off Katara's theft of the waterbending scroll and heartily laughed at her jokes about it. He was delighted by the Painted Lady ruse. He mastered airbending at twelve and the avatar state at thirteen. He snooped around the old ship after Katara said it was booby trapped and dared her to follow and stepped up to take the blame when it went badly and then surrendered himself to protect the village because he knew he could hand everyone on that ship their asses and escape. He outright lied to two communities that had been bickering for a century to get them to stop. He egged on Katara when she decided to throw hands with Pakku. He wants to ride every big animal in the world ("they don't like being ridden but that's what makes it fun" -unhinged take). He has sick burns for everyone which are doubly funny because they're almost always unintended as such. He threw a clandestine dance party in the nation that banned dancing and thought he was dead and wanted him dead. Before that he corrected and argued with teachers, beat a bully without lifting a finger and then brought his teenage friends to pose as his parents. The whole Bonzu Pippipadaleopsicopolis the Third thing. The being idiots with Sokka in Ba Sing Se thing with the bowing and the busboys disguises. He rightfully asked "what's cosmic power compared to a girl". Let's add all the badass stuff he does as a bender and as the Avatar up to and including energybending and the conversation with Koh the Face Stealer. That time in The Chase when he finished the fur trail and then decided to just sit down, sleep deprived, to wait and face whoever it was chasing them. Aang is one of the funniest and coolest characters I've ever seen and he deserves more respect. Absolutely unhinged kid with immense powers and the world is lucky he's goofy and has a good heart.

[interstellarrisa]

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Quotes to keep in mind 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

a/n: these are just some sayings that I like to keep in mind while manifesting, you don't have to keep these in mind but I like to and think they help me somewhat, btw if you recognize your quote or someone else's pls dm or comment it so I can give credits :)

# Mind over matter

I believe that this one is pretty straightforward. 4D over the 3D, imagination over the physical, the inner over the outer. You can pretty much say that this is the basis of LOA and shifting.

# Persist because you know it's done not cause you're waiting to see it done

THIS, you already have it so why are you persisting to see it? It's already there. It's like you affirm "I have xyz, xyz is right in front of me." and then in the same breath go "Now because I've persisted a bit let's wait till it appears." meanwhile your xyz is staring at you irritated. I'm not saying that you should actively persist and affirm 24/7 cause you'd get burnt out but just continue your day not stressing cause you know it's done.

# Stop trying, Start being

Be the one who has it even though it's not in front of your 3D eyes you still have it in your 4D eyes. Be the one who's the prettiest in school, the smartest, the strongest, the most famous and so on. There's no "Let's affirm that I'm beautiful and see what happens." There's only "I'm the most beautiful, period." Walk like it, talk like it and act like it. Me personally I don't like forcing it or doing anything in the 3D because it can get tiring so instead I just walk like it, talk like it and act like it in imagination cause it's all you need.

# Be too lazy to doubt

This is something I came up with and it's also pretty straightforward. Whenever I want something I just think about it for a second then instead of worrying about if it'll work and then trying to force a positive mindset I'll just quickly move on cause I'm to lazy for all of that overthinking hehe.. Two times I manifested my teachers being sick and keep in mind these teachers are never sick and I've always "failed" to manifest it but this time I just thought "They're not here and idc or know why." and continued my day being too lazy to doubt and BAAM both of them weren't at school. I was kind of surprised at first but calmed cause obviously it worked, I'm a master manifester duh. Also this week I had to take school photos and I listened to a photogenic/dreamy sub together with a look cute one and everyone even girls I don't really talk with called me pretty. Heck my teacher said that I was one of those photogenic type of people. Anyways never could have thought being lazy was a blessing in disguise huh..

That's all, have fun with manifesting and shifting y'all and bye!!!!

[bloodyke]

i love when shows do not give a single shit about what's supposed to be happening on screen like they just expect us to ignore it and/or imagine it ourselves

[brucewaynehater101]

Batfam Suicide Squad AU:

Villainous versions of all of the Bats are shoved into one universe together. Up until this point in the AU, they do not know each other well. They've maybe seen each other on the field (which probably ended in fights and held grudges), but they aren't family. They are practically strangers.

Amanda Waller just wants to kill them. However, somehow, there's a force that's even worse than these fuckers. She needs a team to take that down, even if the participants are unwilling.

Bruce Wayne:

A cunning villain who can naturally lead teams. He primarily works alone but has proven to be efficient with any person he has to work with. He can bring out their better attributes, but he's ruthless, wary, and an asshole. He has contingency plans to take down anyone and everyone

Dick Grayson:

Practically immortal half-Talon assassin for hire. His rumored mentors are other Talons, Deathstroke, Superman, and various Titans. His skills in combat are fierce, his abilities are enhanced by his state, and his early childhood acrobatics do wonders for his abilities to escape and fight. These pale in comparison to his natural charisma and ability to turn enemies into allies.

Barbara Gordon:

The best hacker on this side of the galaxy. While she mainly stays off of the field due to her being paralyzed from the waist down, she is a formidable opponent. A significant number of politicians worldwide owe her favors, heroes and villains work for her, she knows top secret information, employs a number of traps to protect herself, and understands the nuances in social structures.

Jason Todd:

A brutal enforcer who utilizes fear, power, and death in his territory to demand obedience to his rules. Extremely skilled in various weapons, hand-to-hand combat, bomb making, and demonstrations of force. His senses, healing speed, and reflexes are uniquely enhanced by his exposure to Lazarus Pits. Despite his persona of being quick to anger, he's a masterful tactian and manipulator.

Cass Cain:

The only candidate who does not kill. Her combat prowess exceeds all other candidates and is rarely defeated in battle. Her eerie silence, ability to read others far more accurately than even psychics, and her stealthiness lead her existence to being more of a feared rumor than a confirmed sighting.

Tim Drake:

While he can defeat a range of opponents in combat, his strength lie in the plots he enacts anonymously. He is skilled in plucking strings and dominoes to create the outcomes he desires. Other abilities include hacking, combat, stealth, disguises, and manipulation. For any battle he prepares for, he rarely loses. Only a small handful of his crimes can be proven to be caused by him.

Steph Brown:

She is skilled in deflection, disguises, social circumstances, combat, and observations. Brown utilizes a variety of personas to distract her victims and lead them astray. She's deadly, but hides this aspect well.

Duke Thomas:

A daring and charismatic leader of a meta rights movement. His group has committed various crimes in their pursuits. He is the only born meta of the group, extremely skilled in utilizing his powers, decisive in outcomes, skilled in combat, and ruthless to prejudice. He can be charming and is extremely emotionally intelligent, which is a skill he uses to subtly influence others.

Damian Al Ghul:

Due to his high kill count, special permission has been given to allow the sixteen year old to be entered into the program. He's exceptionally skilled in all weapon combat but primarily uses swords and knives. He's astute and can utilize his age as a finely tuned weapon to infiltrate, distract, or disappear. He has experience with leading, murder for hire, and complex missions.

Alfred Pennyworth:

A formidable marksman and retired serviceman for MI6. His skills with all styles of guns, acting abilities, unflappable manner, medic training, vehicle maneuverabilites, and sharp tongue aid him in any supportive role. Although he is unlikely to assist on field, he will provide necessary background aid.

Tim and Barbara, in this AU, have both grudges and respect for each other. Tim does not match Barbara's computer skills, but he's a far better foe to her than most. Usually, Tim has a policy to bow out when Barbara is involved or find a way to hide his involvement from her.

Bruce doesn't know Damian is his biological son. Damian hopes to keep him in the dark. Dick, due to his training with blood scents, is the first to know about their relationship. This only occurs after Bruce and Damian get injured on separate missions and Dick makes the connection.

Jason and Damian both have tried to kill Tim. Because Tim seemingly can't die to their attacks, the two have made a game out of trying to kill Tim whenever they see him. Jason and Damian do not know the other also does this. Jason refers to Tim as a "cockroach-like bastard."

One of the batkids jokingly refers to Bruce as "Dad" and Alfred as "Gramps" due to their older age. This catches on with the rest of the batkids until it becomes a regular and fond nickname for the older men.

Bruce had a plan to escape with the help of Kate. After seeing Damian (he doesn't know that's his son), Bruce decides he can't leave a kid. Then he becomes fond of the rest of the group and delays his escape plan again until he can escape with them.

Which of the Bats know each other from encounters in the field? Who holds grudges against each other? What led each Bat to become a villain?

As far as background shit, idk.

I might update with a criminal dossier for each bat later

(In case it wasn't clear, this is a batfam meet late forced found family AU)

@hisaribi helped me with this ^^

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny's Grill Part 2

Special thanks to @mkarchin713 for letting me use their idea.

Tim's night had been hectic.

Not only have things at WE taken a turn for the worst due to some random influencer that decided Wayne Enterprises was the cause of global warming and convinced all his fans of the same- despite the fact they were the nation's leading company in green energy- sales have been down.

The board was breathing down his neck to fix the stocks while being no help at all to get the youth back on their side. He's already pulled twelve hours of overtime this week and it was only Wednesday.

He's been dealing with the PR nightmare while trying to get to the bottom of data theft across multiple big-name technology companies. Reports of scams and total funds lost were reported all through Gotham and only his city.

Tim suspects someone had been planting screen recording devices in one of Gotham's shipping factories before they left the buildings, stealing all the information from new buyers.

Since his theory is so hard to trace, he's been having difficulty pinpointing the base of operations, never mind having enough proof for his thesis. After Bruce's lost-in-time fiasco, Tim learns to have evidence before going to the family with anything.

So that means he's been trying to fight his way on his own, which usually isn't too much to handle, but stress and lack of sleep have really been slowing him down.

Thankfully, a specific food truck appears in his line of sight, and his mood improves drastically. He finds a safe roof to quickly change into his civilians, already fantasizing about what delicious food he would eat.

Dressed in his typical Alvin Draper disguise- black, almost second-skin tights and an oversized sweater- he all but skips to Danny's Grill.

"Night, Danny," He says, smiling at the back of the chef. He leans on the little extended table outside the truck's small window. He takes a sniff of the air, mouth watering at the scent.

Looks like tonight is cheeseburgers, as Danny carefully flips some patties. Danny whirls around with a smile of his own, only to drop the spatula in horror.

"Alvin! What happened!?" Danny shouts, nearly flinging himself through the tiny opening. The vigilante blinks in confusion before catching his reflection in the napkin dispenser.

In his haste to have some of Danny's food, he forgot to cover up a black eye, swollen right cheekbone, and busted lip from his last faulty lead. A goon had gotten him by surprise and had nearly rearranged his face before he was able to get his wits about him.

"Nothing, really; it comes with the job, you know?" Tim tries to play off, laughing nervously when Danny's expression crumbles into pure rage. "Look, it's no big deal-"

"How can it not be a big deal!? Half your face is swollen!"

That happens when someone hits you with a metal pipe in the face. He thinks hysterically. "I've had worse."

"That's not comforting!" Danny screams, throwing off his apron. "Let me close down, and I'll take you to a doctor-"

"No hospitals. They'll ask where I got this, and I can't answer that." Tim cuts in, voice hard. There is a tense moment where he thinks Danny will force him to go anyway, but after a moment the other man growls slamming his hands on the counter.

"Fine. Fine. No hospitals. At least let me ice it." It takes everything in Tim not to shrink back from the hateful tone. He barely has the mind to nod as Danny quickly unlocks the little door that leads into his truck, ushering the Bat inside with barely controlled rage.

He knows it's not aimed at him, but being around someone so upset makes his skin crawl. Tim has problems with offending people; his parents had been masters in drilling into him from a young age.

That's why Tim always sought the approval of everyone around him, even if he couldn't stand the person.

He has been working on it, but old habits died hard.

"Sorry." He mumbles as Danny quickly gets a zippy bag full of ice.

"Don't. Apologize." Danny bites before taking a large breath, clearly trying to calm down. He gently places the ice against Tim's cheek, staring at him with such tender worry Tim can't help but feel butterflies. "You don't have to apologize for getting roughed up. Never. Okay?"

Tim nods, shyly looking away as his stomach is rapidly overrun by even more butterflies. "Okay."

"Come home with me." Danny suddenly blurts as if the words were forced out of him. He looked just as surprised by them as Tim was.

"What?"

"Just for tonight. Just so I know you're safe." Danny all but pleas, and Tim- well, Tim has never been known to be strong enough to resist his impulses. Sure, the family might worry, but he can send them a message claiming to be undercover, and frankly- it's been so long since Tim's had a break.

He's always wanted to know more about Danny outside his food truck. He hadn't been able to find much on him. Tim is a detective by heart. He wants to know everything there is to know about Danny Fenton.

"I can leave when I want." He says, as Danny carefully places a warm hand on his other cheek. "And I sleep in my own space. No bed sharing. I also want to take a shower but I don't have anything to sleep in."

"You can borrow something of mine/ Whatever you need." The words are practically a warm hug, and Tim feels relaxed. Already the shitty week feels less terrible, and he finds himself growing bold enough to take an obvious sniff of the air.

"Can I have a burger?"

There is a hint of an amused smile, but it does not cover up the worry. "Of course you can."

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

The shower is running in Danny's house.

It's a bit out of the way, about a forty-minute drive outside of Gotham limits, but it's spacious and private, just the way Danny liked it.

Ever since he inherited his title, he's found this house on the list of properties, and that was why he chose to take Gotham by storm in his little truck.

Danny isn't really sure what the story of the property was- the suspects the place was built around the same time Gotham got its curse; seeing as it was overseeing the city and had enough natural ectoplasm in the air, he would suspect the curse affecting the town lead to here. He never cared to check.

No, rather Danny had some ghosts remodel the old building to include wiring and functioning plumbing but asked that the general overall of the mansion stay the same.

He sort of like pretending to be a Lord of the Oldden days. If anyone asked if he walked around acting out old romances of the Victorian era, that was not else business but his own.

Alvin was undoubtedly impressed when they pulled up to his house. Maybe it shouldn't have felt so prideful to have the handsome man be impressed with his mansion given the circumstances.

He seemed to accept the excuse of having been willed the house by his late grandfather. He just hoped Alvin didn't think him the same as his wealthy clients.

Speaking of, he better make the call before Alvin finished.

Stepping to his balcony, he pulled out his burner phone and pressed the speed dial five. There are four rings before the call connects.

He gets no greeting, but he's not expecting one. Danny looks over his shoulder to ensure the bathroom door is connected to the master room- his bedroom, where Alvin will be staying, seeing as it has a bigger fireplace. He needs to have them install a heating system. Danny never bothered, what with his ice core and all- before he spoke.

"Hey, Red Hood, it's Danny. I'm calling in that favor."

There is a long pause before the other man grunts. "What is it?"

"My friend is a pro whose pimp or johns have been abusing lately. Can you help me....take care of the issue? I don't want to overstep in his life, but I'm pretty sure they broke his check bone tonight, and he claimed to have had worse before." Danny sighs, his stomach overturning at what that could mean. He hasn't gone out as Ghost King to show those assholes a thing or two because this isn't his haunt.

It's Red Hood's.

Danny had met the other man when a rouge attack had busted up all the main highways he usually worked in and had no choice but to try to sell in Crime Alley. He was right off the territory's edge, freaking out about entering without the main ghost's permission, until Red Hood confronted him.

Danny's frantic fretting had been suspicious enough that the main honcho had gone to find out why he was so nervous.

They worked a deal where Danny would sell his ware in peace, and as long as he let kids eat for free, Red Hood had no quarrels with him. He even got a favor from the crime lord after Danny provided free meals to some of his men's families struggling to get food a few months back.

He also allowed Hood to use his house as a safe house to hide a few people who needed to be out of the city. Is he part of Red Hood's gang? No.

Is he an alley? Yes.

Danny had been saving the favor for such an occasion.

There is silence on Hood's side, so Danny goes in for the kill. "My friend is seventeen; in a few months, he'll be eighteen, but he said he has been doing this since he was younger."

The silence is now laced with malice. If there was one thing they both agreed on it was that kids were never meant to be hurt by the scum of the city. "Give me his name and the area he usually works in."

"Alvin Draper. He changes per night, but I've often seen him on the east side of Crime Alley."

"I'll look into it. Is Alvin safe?"

"Yeah, he's going to be staying with me tonight. Don't come by until I convince him to extend his stay." Danny knows Hood will understand. This is one of many pros to see the Zone- his mansion's name- as a sanctuary.

"That's fine. Can you get me a picture of Alvin?"

"No, he's too skimmish."

Hood grunts again, his voice coming out tired despite the voice monitor. "Kids always are. I'll have my boys find Alvin's primp and johns. Ensure there aren't any other younglings before they make them swim with the fish."

Danny almost falls over in relief. "Thank you. Alvin...Alvin means a lot to me."

" Don't mention it. Stay well, Victorian."

Victorian is the code name Hood has given him to ensure Danny isn't tired of his gang. Yes, it's because his house is a Victorian mansion, but Danny also likes to think it's cause the other man appreciates the aesthetics of his house a little too much.

He once caught Hood admiring his Pride and Prejudice hardcover book displayed in his green sitting room.

"You too Hood. And thank you."

How would he convince Alvin that his house was a better place to call home than the orphanage and street corners without coming off as a wannabe savior or hopelessly in love creep?

Danny pauses at his own train of thought.

Hopelessly in love? He thinks in shock as the bathroom door swings open, and out comes Alvin, dressed in Danny's extra pajama set. He offers Danny a shy smile; even with the injuries, it is the loveliest sight he's ever seen, and- oh no, Danny is in love with him.

"You up for a late-night snack?" He asks, trying to not show the world-shattering realization on his face, and Alvin's smile grows wider.

"You're going to make me fat." The other laughs. Danny's heart skips a beat.

Danny Fenton loves Alvin Draper and will do everything he can to protect him. Even if Alvin will hate him for it.

[theautumnpicker]

@mystraguideme

It's his, by any rights. They'd taken an awfully long detour to find the book in the first place, and then it had been Astarion himself who had been sent to collect it, to carefully sever the connection between the pressure plate and the statues around it. Yet for all his effort— not to mention his very polite request— it was Gale who was rewarded with the treasure. And for what? It's undoubtedly just another bauble to him, the ravenous, power-mad fool.

Not that Astarion can really fault his ambition.

Of course, he showed no outward sign of his irritation. That wouldn't win him any points with their leader. Besides, he still had options. He meant to wait until they were at camp and swipe the thing while the others were eating. He even pitched his tent next to Gale's that night, watching the wizard closely as he set up all his worldly goods. Yet Gale seemed to keep the book with him, as if it were a bit of light reading he wanted to settle down with on a full belly.

So, giving up on his first plan, Asterion joined the group at supper after all, smiling and joking to disguise his poor appetite for the sort of food they have to offer. He went to bed directly afterwards, but he can't sleep, whether or not he wants to. Thoughts of the book invade his mind, almost calling out to him with the power it has to offer him. There has to be something in the pages of that tome that he can use against Cazador, or even just use for himself. Something to make his condition permanent, beyond the grace of these damned tadpoles that everyone else seems in such a rush to remove. He imagines returning home to his old master, telling him what he'd discovered and promising to share the secret— for surely even Cazador would envy his power now— only to watch him burn and writhe in the sun.

That does it. He is getting that damned book.

Astarion sits up and raises the flap of his tent, peering out and seeing to his satisfaction that all the others are asleep, or at the very least in their little beds, oblivious to all the world. He half crawls outside, keeping low to the ground in a prowl, as he steals over to Gale's tent and listens outside, ceasing to breathe as he listens for the sounds of the wizard's own breathing inside. He feels hungry suddenly, but whether he hungers for the knowledge close at hand or for the blood he can smell under Gale's skin as he stalks his quarry is hard to say.

The hunger makes him impatient. Astarion doesn't wait until he can hear that breathing slow, until he's sure Gale is fast asleep. Instead, he enters quickly and quietly, not even looking at the wizard at first as he scans the entirety of his surroundings in rapid search for his heart's desire. Even if the book remains on Gale's person now, Astarion fully intends to take it for his own.

[shaevilux]

Something something Zelda doesn't mind waiting. She waited a hundred years for Link to wake up and face the Calamity. She waited 10,000 years for Link to find her and the master sword to finally face off against Ganondorf.

She doesn't mind waiting because she knows how the story goes. She knows what kind of narrative she and Link are doomed by. She knows Link will prevail.

But she also knows the narrative isn't what she or Link want. She wants a safe Hyrule. She wants her hero knight to be free. She wants herself to be an explorer, a researcher, a scientist. Being a princess is something she's born into and therefore something she's duty-bound to. Same as Link being duty-bound to being her royal knight.

In those hundred years of waiting and those 10,000 years of waiting, she is content for Link to just... Be Link.

We all joke about how Link is goofing around Hyrule while the Calamity is looming and Zelda is waiting. About how and Ganondorf is gathering power in the depths while Zelda is missing and Link is building contraptions to bring koroks to their friends.

But this is Link. This is him when he's not duty-bound. I'm not saying he doesn't like being zelda's royal guard, but his essence isn't just that. He's just a guy who likes to go around helping people. That stable woman needs a horse and horse cart? Sure, he'll use his new powers to get her sorted out. That man fell down the well (in lego city) and needs help fixing the ladder to climb back up? Yeah, Link's on it. Oh, you need help building this town into something so, so beautiful where everyone from all walks of life can come and meld their cultures together and live in a diverse sort of harmony? Link's your man to see your vision come true.

Link loves his role in Hyrule. As a helper. A wandering hero. As a guy who roams and cooks and tames wild horses and gets rid of monsters and helps anyone and everyone even if they're obviously disguised yiga clan members.

So of course Zelda would want nothing but for him to enjoy his little wonders. This transient moment that had been carved for him to be free. Sure, there is doom looming over him and Hyrule. But he's still fulfilling his promise. He's still protecting them all in his own small way. He's still Link. Just unburdened.

And now that Zelda truly understands the fuckery of time and fate and everything, she doesn't mind waiting. She can wait as long as Link needs to be free. She will roam the skies unbothered and unthinking and in her immortal, unaware state until Link is ready. Until Link needs her.

Until then she's content with waiting.

[radiance1]

Pariah Dark is finally released from his coffin, most ghosts in the know about this very on edge because he's, well, a literal tyrant king. But contrary to everyone's expectations (except Clockwork), he justs decides to vamoosh from the Infinite Realms entirely.

It's been fine without his active ruling for eons, so surely it wouldn't suddenly go to shit just because he's out of his sleep now. At least that's what he thinks and picks a random earth to go towards- this time surprisingly not for war- and plans to inhabit it.

So, there he was, Pariah Dark, Ghost King of the infinite Realms, one of the most powerful ghosts in existence and bearer of the Crown of Fire and Ring of Rage.

Now a humble mortal(disguised) farmer.

And he's surprisingly, never been happier. Well, actually he has been happier than this, on the day of binding between the Ghost King and the Master of Time.

He wonders what his spouse was up to these days. Most likely watching over the multiple timelines, no doubt.

It was on one of those days, where he carried his produce to go sell to a factory for money for more horses, that he ran into a little kid, one with black hair and blue eyes.

That was also, chalked full of magical power and might.

Really, it just escalated from there, if he were to be honest.

===

Billy Batson did not expect to be sitting in the living room of the giant man he ran into on accident. He was kidnapped, yes, but compared to others this was most certainly tame in comparison.

He was picked up by the back of his collar, placed on that guy's head, and was then just taken back to his house.

At least he makes extremely good cookies.

He should probably leave before he's never seen again, but first, cookies.

And milk.

[corollaservant]

Silver // Geto x f!reader (18+)

Synopsis: You grew up together, small village and a need to get out. He was always selfish. (5.1k)

Warnings: child abuse, childhood friends, noncon/dubcon, yandere, loosely follows Geto's downfall/canonical setting, derogatory use of ''monkeys'' (it's Geto c'mon), violence, drowning, they get their ears pierced so idk if that grosses you out.

A/N: angst n smut for Suguru, that's all. i really said here have a fic with the basic sugu trope for the nth time.

You always wanted a doll. The dolls weren’t like the ones you saw on the black and white advertisements in your mom’s weekly newspapers. They were pretty—had doe eyes and a cute hat, a white jacket over a pink knitted dress, their hair was almost always in pigtails with wrapped-around ribbons. You always wanted this one doll. 

‘’Sweetie, we can’t afford a doll, you know your father’s hardly making ends meet.’’ Your mom told you over dinner, while your father remained silent. You never knew whether he had nothing to say because he didn’t care or he felt sad. You weren’t close, maybe you weren’t sure because you were afraid of him.

Father used to yell, he wasn’t a patient man. Mom was late to make food? Yell. Clean his clothes? Yell. When you came late from school, he’d yell. Your mom justified it, he was exhausted, working all day in the field. But you really wanted that doll. 

‘’Mom, please! I will pay you back.’’ You desperately begged, you were only ten, of course you couldn't pay back. Your mom sighed and let you down after that. You didn't cry, only crawled to your bed as you silently begged for the doll to magically appear when you’d wake up. 

The old lady noticed you frequently. You’d walk for half an hour after school (the shop was the only addition the village had ever gotten and while diametrically opposite from your house, you were more than willing to take the extra mile) — only to stand outside. You hesitated to touch the window, remembering this one time your dad pushed you and you fell down the stairs because you’d made mom upset. You had touched the kitchen window. Your mom cried, your dad had eaten his soup in silence and gone to bed. You wanted to ask the lady the price, you wanted to know if there was another way but while just ten, you were smart for your age. You knew that regardless of the answer, the doll would never be yours. 

It was hide and seek day with your friends. The village’s stadium-like field offered a variety of hidden spots (behind a bleacher, the toilets, the church across or the trees around). The bleachers screeched but you all were pros at disguise so it worked most of the time. Upon getting there, you saw the usual faces, some kids you knew, one of them lived close to you. Across the field sat a boy you didn’t know. Funny, you thought. You knew almost everyone in the village and he seemed of school age, how come you didn't recognize him? Daylight fell behind the roofed bleachers, signaling your time to go. You wouldn’t want to make father upset.

‘’This is the last time you talk about the doll.’’ He told you that night as he brought a hand to your face, his tone was stern but he seemed calm. Your right cheek burned but you couldn't cry. You had realized that the more he rejected you, the more immune you became—pain stopped having emotional ties. You still wanted that goddamn doll.

You were sent to your room but even then tears wouldn’t spill. Your window allowed you to jump from a reasonable height and it was past your parents bedtime so you found yourself in the cold night within minutes. You had no watch, not that it mattered anyway as your feet dragged you towards the woods. You knew your way in, you had mastered it back when dad used to drag you to the fields— people really were afraid of forests, as if they would suck them in, leave them confined but the trees never harmed, they just listened. How many times had they heard you cry? A lighter stolen from your father’s nightstand (the one in his drawers, you did not want another altercation) led you down a slope. You weren’t afraid, you knew it led to a creek, an ardent stream flowing day and night. People from the village used to come often (if they had the strength, they now visited wells closer to the center) — the water was cold and clear, maybe too cold for a swim, you’d realized once you experimentally submerged your feet in it and they froze. 

‘’Why can’t I have that doll, dad?’’ You cried, the water drowning your muffled sounds, it soothed you and allowed you to be yourself. ‘’Why, why why!’’ You screamed, tears fell down your cheeks, as you frantically wiped them with your hand, wincing at the feeling to your right, father really made a point with that one. ‘’Why can’t you tell him I want that doll, mom?’’ And you cried and cried until a sound — a rustle of leaves startled you. 

‘’You shouldn’t be here.’’ A voice rang behind you as you quickly turned around. The boy with the dark hair and oddly colored eyes, you thought they looked purple but that wouldn't make sense and he was too far away this morning.

‘’W-who are you?’’ You retreated, you were too close to the stream. 

‘’Just go home, it’s dangerous to be out there.’’ He said as you furrowed your brows.

With childish stubbornness you told him that it was none of his business but the more you talked the more he approached you and you suddenly lost your balance, your back dragging you towards the water as a hand grabbed you and pulled you back up. 

‘’Please leave now.’’ The boy said firmly and let his hand go. You lowered your head ashamed and lit your father’s cheap Zippo to guide yourself back home. Who was this guy?

-

His name was Geto, you found out because you asked your fourth grade teacher, who told you she couldn’t ever reach his parents to ask why they never sent their son to school. Legislation was non-existent, the village had no childcare protection otherwise you would have been sent away years ago. No one cared after all; children born there were raised to become farmers or whatever they were forced into. 

Geto never showed up to school, he would however show up after, while all of you played in the field, silently observing and reading from a book. You didn’t think he could read. 

You had once invited him to come play but he had declined the offer, ‘’No, thank you.’’ He had said as you asked for his name. ‘’Suguru.’’ Pretty name. 

-

The pain was enough to make you cry this time. 

‘’Want to tell me who the hell this Suguru is and why he left a stupid doll for you?’’ He shouted— his hands had already left a mark on your arms from pushing you, his nails had dug inside. The slap after was violent and strong and it made you dizzy while you coughed, there was no blood but your jaw hurt. 

‘’I- he’s from my school I— d-don’t know anything... about a doll..’’ You choked while his eyes burned. It wasn’t often he was that lively, you guessed anger really was a strong motivator.

‘’Well, you finally got your stupid doll. What is it, did he fuck you?’’ He spat as your mother interrupted.

‘’Honey! She’s only ten!’’ And she cried, and you cried and he threw the beautiful, pink dressed, hand sewn doll to your face, it hit your forehead and you stumbled and fell to the floor. 

‘’Stupid, all of you are stupid.’’ He growled and went upstairs. Your mother gave you a pitiful look and silently left for the kitchen. Your weakened arm reached out to the doll beside you.

She’s pretty, thank you, Suguru.

You shakily grabbed it, a teardrop stained the beige thread and brought it to your chest.

But Suguru. The damage you’d done.

-

You had never seen him with his eyes wide open before. It was kind of funny, you had to admit, he looked at you—his expression a mixture of shock and pain, what had he done? The kids (your friends) hadn’t really said anything, they were all familiar with your family’s background, experiencing more or less the same themselves. But Suguru... he was different. 

‘’Thank you for the doll.’’ You smiled, he hadn't.

His eyes had darkened back then, his mouth formed a tight line as he apologized. 

‘’I.. didn’t know.’’ He said, ‘’I’m sorry, I– I just heard you talking about it, you know.. that night and thought it might have cheered you up. I’m sorry.’’ He spoke and you reassured him that you appreciated it. You did. It was like he knew which doll you liked, the one he chose was the one you desperately wanted. You played with her every night, talking to her in silence and telling her that Suguru was a nice kid. Yeah, you liked Suguru and felt sorry internally for thinking of him as responsible for your fathers actions at first.

But Suguru didn’t understand—a need suddenly appeared that day. When he had first seen you, he knew you were careless. Knew you were angry and hurt. The words that came out of your mouth concealed emotions he wasn’t all too familiar with. On the contrary, he found the passion and pain intriguing. He didn’t think he’d ever expressed the two. When he saw you on the field, weak, trembling, the doll held firmly in your arms as you thanked him with your bruised eyes, that was when the feeling awakened in him.

Suguru always had a strong sense of justice. He hated whomever stole from the shops (he knew the suspects and would throw gravels at them), he helped injured animals by bringing them to a tree house he’d built on his own, he stopped fights and hated exploitation towards the defenseless. Your sight alone hadn’t awakened his sense of justice, no, that was almost as innate as his sense of hunger—you made him want to protect. You made him feel a need as basic as hunger to protect you. You didn’t deserve it and he was not one to forget.

In an ironic way, the incident brought you both closer. You would hang out daily after school (your efforts to convince him to come were fruitless), you’d take a walk towards the woods, the stream under the steep slope had been your secret hideout. You didn’t need to lie to your parents, they still thought you played in the field while you were with Suguru. As for Suguru’s parents, that you didn’t know about. He didn’t speak much and when he did, he told you about his plans to save the world. From what exactly, he didn’t even know himself. Days turned to months and months into years as you and Suguru grew older, still teenagers but doing other things now, such as buying alcohol with Suguru’s money (you never asked and he always wore his father’s clothes; somehow he convinced clerks he was of age), drove around in his dad’s car and got both your ears pierced. Well... he had them stretched and you helped with that.

You’d never forget that day—you were equipped with needles and xylocaine, it was apparently a numbing anesthetic. Both of you knew nothing about proper sterilization, you hadn’t even heated or marked the spot you wanted, all you had was a needle and dreams. Your piercings were easier, it was after all a small hole and it burned like hell but that was nothing. Suguru’s on the other hand had been a torture. It was understandable that for someone without an already pierced earlobe, stretches as a first was masochism itself. But Suguru didn’t utter a word. Not when the needle (cold and dirty) pierced the lobe. Not when the silver stretch couldn’t squeeze through the bloody ear. Not even when you felt the excess skin on your hands and you winced, kind of disgusted. You often wondered how Suguru always maintained composure and secretly admired him. If only you weren’t that weak. The stretch operation was deemed successful and celebrated accordingly: with cheap liquor and cigarettes (for the occasion). It wasn’t even two days later, when you noticed Suguru’s earlobes. Black gauges decorated them instead of the initial silver stretches, which you’d told him to let heal at least for a week, his lobes were in bad condition.

He was always selfish. 

-

The last time you talked was a year ago. One year and fifty-three days. He hadn’t come back, he didn’t have anyone he cared to visit. He had been acting strangely this one time he came to pick up clothes, looking above people’s shoulders, scratching his neck and forehead, contemplating. He looked malnourished and joyless.

When you found a handwritten note (how you missed his handwriting) with a simple “come to spot” a year later, you felt your heart race. It had a time and an S. at the bottom. You were hardly surviving at the time, school almost came to an end, an adult already and you hadn’t even graduated and your dad was becoming harder on you. There wasn’t much thought on your after school plans, all you wanted was to get away. To escape. The rest would come later.

The sun was done shining when you stepped down the known slope, the volume of the stream, as if nothing had changed, threatening to drown life on its way. You’d sat on your back, looking at the sky above as day and night merged in the interim.

A flame nearby caused you to stand up. What had happened? Where was he? Faint animal noises and movement could be heard but the slope was deep and you’d have to climb up, which would take you some time and then... what about him? Should you run, go look for him? You were about to climb back up when a shadow casted above you. There he stood, in what you presumed a school uniform and a bloodied face, dark hair swept back and falling down his shoulders while his eyes landed on you. You took a step back. 

‘’W-what happened? Is everyone alright? Are you alright!’’ You shouted, why did you shout? The words mixed up. He could only smile as he kneeled, jumped and landed in front of you. You examined the blood up close—it had started to dry, leaving crusts under his eyes, which he scratched before he spoke. 

‘’It’s alright, I’m here.’’ He spoke softly, almost whispering and apologetically smiled. Something seemed off. What wasn’t he telling you? What were those voices and why was it quiet all of a sudden? Your nostrils flared, a strong smell of smoke made you dizzy. 

‘’S-suguru.. what's—what’s going on? We have to go look, maybe someone’s hurt, maybe they need—’’

‘’I said, I’m here.’’ He raised his voice an octave, same smile on his face, making his eyes crinkle, but it felt odd. It felt forced.

‘’I know what happened to them.’’ The fake smile fell about as quickly as it’d appeared, each word equalled a step toward you. You were moving closer to the angry stream behind, you had to cough from the smoke entering your lungs.

‘’W-what do you mean you know? What happened!’’ You thought you yelled, maybe you hadn't, your voice cracked, cutting the question in half.

‘’I killed them.’’ He said with the same ease he’d propose a ride in his dad’s car. He noticed your eyes widen, your hands covering your mouth from the smoke that would soon engulf you both fully, flames he had set on a village that didn’t matter at the end.

You blinked; he presumed this was the part you’d start crying and lashing out so he inhaled.

‘’Aren’t you happy? Your parents are gone.’’ He heard you yelp. He was really doing you a favor, all these incompetent people you surrounded yourself with had to be gone. Sure, your parents weren’t your choice but you’d be better off without them anyway.

‘’W-why...’’ You couldn't breathe properly, your lungs were filled with smoke as your heart palpitated abnormally, you tried—tried like hell—to scream but syllables came out broken, constricted and incoherent and the more you tried to make your chords work, the more you lost your voice. Your eyes shed tears in silence, they spilled on your clothes as if on cue—you couldn’t approach him, you were terrified as you looked around. For help? You didn't know.

‘’What are you looking for? I’m right here.’’ He said as he took a step closer. 

‘’Don’t touch me!’’ You choked—it was barely audible.

‘’What did you say?’’ His brows furrowed. 

‘’I-I said– don’t touch me!’’ You managed and he sighed.

‘’After everything I’ve done for you...You know, I really could’ve just killed you before. You are after all useless to society. You can’t even see them.’’

Killed you? Useless? The eyes you used to know didn't belong to him anymore, someone else's blood distorted them. You found yourself thinking about his face more than what you just heard. Had he killed them all? Your parents? His parents? Your old classmates? You sobbed but he continued to look down on you and talk.

‘’Everyone’s gone, for you. And that’s my thank you? Your parents, the stupid kids from school, the doll lady…’’ 

‘’Why! What have they ever done to you?’’ Your knees betrayed you, you felt the ground beneath you.

‘’They never cared about you. The old lady would never give you that doll for free. She hated you being outside her window everyday, what a nasty child she called you, did you know that? Your dad? Fuck,now if that wasn’t a blessing! This cunt abused you and your mother for years... well, your mom had to go too, there’s no way a conspirator gets off the hook that easily. As for everyone else... they were just useless, you know? Thinking, feeling, cursing, swearing. Disgusting beings create us all more problems. You know, you ought to be an exception to this.’’

‘’I- I want to go. L—Let me go..’’ You stood up, he wasn’t holding you; you felt like a hostage. Why?

‘’You're sick...’’ You continued, a disgust behind your swollen eyes as he squinted his. 

‘’I'm sick?’’ His eyes, though you couldn’t see much, lit up under a moon trying to glow behind smoke clouds. 

‘’That’s funny for you to say because last I remember you were weak and a victim, not me. Seriously, I thought you’d be happier about it. I granted you temporary freedom, shouldn’t you be a bit more grateful? I always wanted to protect you...’’ His steps brought him millimeters apart, one more step and you'd be gone with the stream. 

‘’I always wanted to be there for you.. I thought I felt something every time I looked at you. You were so... vulnerable and exposed, I’d be there for you. But you know what?’’ He took a step forward as you fell — he was quick to catch your waist this time. 

‘’I realized, I just fucking hate you.’’ He spits as his breath hits your face, you shut your eyes and turn your head away. 

His arm pushes your shoulder down, forcing you to kneel on the ground, your knees sting as he continues. 

‘’I asked myself, why should I protect the weak? There must be some flaw within them that makes them stupid, don’t you agree? Why should you have to endure your father’s abuse instead of doing something about it? Why’d you have to cry on my shoulder because you were too weak to act on it? You had to come here to cry about it, remember? Pathetic.’’ He says, face filled with revulsion.

The pain in your knees is nothing compared to that in your chest, you break with each word that comes out of his mouth, he seems passionate—a true hatred reflecting on his eyes and you wish to be dead in that moment. 

‘’W-why..why–’’ You try to fill your lungs with air as you suddenly feel a leg on your ribs, a kick that sends you almost in the water—he’s kicked you and you’re lying on hard ground while he’s still standing.

‘’Why,why,why. Shut up already. I told you why. I do not like the weak and you aren’t an exception. See, I could have you killed so easily.’’

He smiles as his palm grips your scalp and you’re being dragged all the way to where soil meets the stream, pain hits different spots on your spine along the way. You don’t have time to understand what’s happening until your head is immersed in the water.

Cold. Dark. No air. You can’t think, it feels like an eternity before your head’s out and you gasp—lungs filled more with water than smoke and you wish to die. 

‘’S..st–’’ You can’t continue, his palm brings your numbed limbs and spinning wet head close to his, the dried blood touches your cheek. 

‘’There’s one thing I’d like, before we say goodbye.’’ He breathes on your face, his eyes linger on your drained lips. 

‘’I’d like to see the weak in you one last time.’’ His lips are on yours, they feel so warm and you’re shivering, trembling under his touch as his tongue slides without a second in your dried mouth. His saliva soaks the perimeter of your palate and your mouth doesn’t move—water washes off some blood on him. 

‘’Will you kiss me or have a swim again?’’ He asks ever so politely and you sob.

‘’P-please...’’ But this mustn’t have been the right answer because you find yourself underwater, this time it lasts longer (or so you think) before you resurface and gasp. You wish for an end.

‘’Let’s try again, hm?’’ He says, as he brings his lips back on yours, a warm tongue pushes past them, salivating in your dry throat.

You kiss him back, softly and slowly, following his rhythm as his hands already search for your wet chest, slender fingers trail down your neck and poke at the crevices. They stop at your sternum, groping the skin and he growls in your mouth, you move mechanically as your heart shatters.

You used to love him. You never told him of course, that would be stupid, you didn’t think he’d ever love you back—well, in your defense you didn't think he could love anyone back but you did. The first time he gifted you the doll, when you cried on his shoulders, when you pierced his ears. Looking back, he wasn’t always selfish. 

He continues the journey of his hands, his mouth is still attached to yours, it shouldn’t feel good, but it feels warm, and you need more heat, you’re freezing and can’t breathe. He hums as he finds your skirt, perfect and accessible, he thinks. You’re shuddering under his touch. He can't tell whether it's from the cold water or not but he doesn't mind. 

A finger finds your slit over your panties, as he vertically traces your skin along the way. He starts from your belly button, passes over your clit and teases in between folds, a light touch that upsets you. 

‘’Stop.’’ You whisper, weakened and confused. Wet and cold. But he doesn't.

He is rubbing your cunt slowly, he has removed his mouth and only plants soft kisses sporadically; a kiss each time he rubs up and down, tender and laced with care as the first moan escapes your lips and he catches it with his mouth. He takes it, you’d be embarrassed to let him know you enjoy this, it’s okay. He doesn't want to ridicule you, just to show you world order, that's all. 

Your underwear gets pushed aside as warm fingers now touch your bare entrance, he had gathered heat from your cunt and his spit—he had to spit, you weren’t that wet. But that would change, he was confident in it. 

His slender fingers part your lower lips slowly as he thrusts one in your cunt. It’s not violent but it’s enough to push your body upward as you sigh, a mixture of unwarranted pleasure and disgust by the predicament. He likes your soft sigh, he wants more.

‘’It’ll feel better, I promise.’’ He smiles gently and you fight the urge to gag, your cunt suddenly makes disturbing noises, as he now works two fingers deep within you, steady pace, straight in the middle. A thumb brushes past your clit, as he removes both fingers and circles it slowly... so slowly you melt, you feel like you ache but.. what is it? It's an ache you like, it's an ache you can't fight and don't want—but you can't do anything about it and—

‘’I think this should work.’’ His hand is removed and brought to his mouth to taste you. 

“Sweet.” He smiles. 

His pants are quickly removed, the need with which he hurries is comical—under other circumstances you’d laugh, you had never seen him so impatient and unreserved but it’s different now, now that he almost drowned you and is about to kill you. Why couldn’t this just end? 

You don’t look at him, you don’t want to, but you make out an arm that brushes against his groin as he slowly moves it up and down his cock. He likes the sight, it’s almost like straight out of a painting: you sprawled out, wet in every sense, a smoke filled scenery behind you and your precious, weak cunt for him to savour. Yeah, that was this day’s highlight, he thinks and grins. 

His thoughts excite him, precum exits his slit with each stroke as he kneels down and plants a delicate kiss on your knees. 

‘’I’d always protect you.’’ He murmurs, as a hard cock slides in between your legs and you draw a sharp breath. It hurts. Fuck, it hurts like crazy, he is hurting you with his size, he fills out your whole cunt, you feel like you can’t take anymore and then— then he pushes more, slowly, bit by bit until you shriek, begging for him to stop. 

‘’I--is too much! S-suguru–” You wince, as he carelessly continues.

‘’Who’s Suguru?’’ He frowns, a hand coming to clasp around your neck and he stays still. Your cunt can’t adjust but he’s not doing it to help you, he wants an answer.

‘’It’s Geto now.’’ He grumbles as he starts moving in your walls while you squeeze instinctively.

You are too tight, he takes it you’ve never been fucked before, makes sense and yet he likes it better this way. Your face distorts in pain but you’ll soon feel better, he knows because he was a virgin last year too. How he wished for this moment to come. Everything was perfect, you were perfect, your cunt was perfect, your eyes... perfect. Maybe the weak had something to offer after all. A blind faith and a good heart.

‘’S-Suguru–’’ You wrongly moan and a palm slaps across your hurt cheek, a flashback of your dad’s hand making your skin crawl, it was the same spot. Your walls are too tight to take him and he fights the urge to groan.

‘’Last time.. unless you want a bath, pretty.’’ He says as he thrusts his cock repeatedly toward the same direction, your cervix—hitting a bunch of soft, vulnerable spots along the way, fuck, you were so perfect and untainted, he wishes you were different, maybe like him.

He’d take you with him on his journey to cleanse the world from filthy creatures that polluted it, that had his friends dead, that cost the Jujutsu High lives daily, that had his friend constantly on stupid missions and for whom? Ungrateful filthy pigs—no, they weren’t pigs, at least pigs knew their place, they were monkeys, always eager for more, for power that didn’t belong to them, monkeys ready to snatch and never give; disregarding consequences for all others. If only you weren’t one of them. 

He watches your pretty mouth contract, your head arched back and eyes closed in shame as he brings you closer, he can tell by the way you squeeze his length inside, shit, you’re making his cock too wet, your slick smudges your thighs and squelching sounds almost cover your tormented sighs each time he sinks into you. 

‘’D–Does that feel good?’’ He asks while you pant, tears fall down the sides of your face, a red mark of his fingers on your left cheek but you don't answer.

‘’Answer–agh..answer me.’’ He orders, picking up his pace until you can’t anymore.

‘’Y-yes!’’ You cry out, stinging nettles dig in your back contrasting the pleasure in your core that grows—such a lewd thing, you’d come to hate yourself for it. If you were to live, of course.

He’s close too, thrusts becoming uncalculated and erratic yet never really seeming to stop being pleasurable, a rough thumb now circles around your swollen nub, making your legs jerk.

‘’Fuck–Sugu—fuck!’’ You clench around him, the heat coiling low ready to betray you and you see him part his mouth. He doesn't correct you.

‘’Let go baby, I love you.’’ He whispers as you shut your eyes and it's these words that have you ride out an orgasm so intense, you choke on moans and wrap your wounded legs around him. Arms circle his back as his mouth finds yours.

He kisses you as he slides his cock as deep as he can, pads of his fingers removing wet strands from your forehead; he cusses out.

‘’Fuck, mine—forever.” He grunts and finishes inside, nibbling on your neck, as your tangled legs bring him even closer, breaths synchronizing where your chests meet.

He stays within your silky walls, relishing any moment he can before he removes himself, leaving you split, stained and quivering. He lifts up the elastic of his pants. 

His time is running out, the spectacle in front of him clouds his reason—you look so pretty, with his cum oozing from your hole, your ashamed hands covering your chest and your eyes waiting for his next move. If only you weren’t flawed. If only you weren’t weak.

To kill you would be easy, he only stalls in case you want to add any last words. And you do. 

You look at the man who used to be a boy, the one who gifted you the thing you wished for most in the world; not the doll, but love and you smile. Your left eye is bruised and can hardly open, one of his blows must’ve accidentally landed on the wrong side of your face or maybe it’s the water pressure, you can’t think, as you open your mouth to speak. 

‘’Behind you.’’ You whisper, as your right eye catches a small, bug-like shadow buzzing around his hair, ready to attack his neck. 

You only notice his eyes widen before darkness envelops your peripherals.