#Yes rem had a very nice and moving speech

[spiegelgestalt]

After poking around some more in the YouTube Re:zero analysis sphere i once again realize that my takes on re:zero are just vastly different than what is out there.

I just heard that Emilia is mentally a child at the end of season 2 and that's why she's not capable to form a relationship with Subaru...

Is... Is that fan consensus? Did I miss something? Is that how that relationship develops in the LN/WN?

Or is that just a horrible horrible take from a salty Rem/Subaru shipper?

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

Beyond Our Dreams | Remus Lupin x Reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: None

Time/Era: Marauders Era, Aged 19

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: Remus Lupin finally gets to meet his American soulmate, Y/N, after seeing eachother every night in their dreamscape. 

Request: can you do a remus lupin x gender neutral reader soulmate au where they see each other in their dreams

A/N: I adore Remus so much. He’s such a special character to me. So, thank you for the request! Enjoy! I also attached my Remus Lupin playlist, which is full of songs that remind me of this perfect boi :) Check it out if you want! 

masterlist | my remus lupin playlist | read on ao3

The apartment they chose to meet at was always the same; it was a small room with a comfy, forest green couch, a cozy bed, a small kitchenette, and a door that led to a bathroom. It was rather plain as well, with dark red walls and a plush carpet below their feet. On one of the walls, there was a large window that overlooked a calm city. The normal hustle and bustle of city life was extinguished by a heavy downpour. 

While most people made their dreamscapes extravagant and complicated, as it is their mind after all, Remus and Y/N found comfort in the simplicity. The pair just needed a comfortable spot to talk and get to know eachother. 

“And then Lily just sort of dropped the bomb,” Remus stated, sitting on the couch opposite of Y/N. His long fingers wrapped around a white mug and he held his tea close to his body. 

“I can’t believe she’s pregnant!” Y/N had her legs crossed and a plate of chocolate chip cookies situated in her lap. “We haven’t even met yet, but people our age are already having kids.” 

Remus heartily chuckled, raising his mug to his lips and taking a sip. “It’ll happen in due time, darling. Besides, it’s nice to have you to myself without outside influences,” He coughs. “My friends skewing your views on me.” 

“I know your friends are lovely, based on how you speak so fondly of them.” Y/N took a big bite of one of the chocolate chip cookies. It was chewy and gooey, making it absolutely delicious. “Why are dream cookies so good? Like, seriously, these things are to die for.” 

“Because they’re a figment of your imagination. They can be as yummy or as disgusting as you make them to be.” Remus pulled at the collar of his gray t-shirt, making the seams rip. “Do you ever wish I was more, I don’t know, exciting?” 

“What do you mean?” Chocolate smudged on the corners of her mouth.

Remus grinned and licked his thumb, rubbing it over her delicate skin to clean her face. “I mean, our dream world is a one-bedroom apartment and all we ever do is talk. I don’t know, I hear Sirius has a rollercoaster in his dreamscape. I fell dull in comparison.” 

Y/N fondly smiled at her soulmate, moving so she was sitting directly next to him. “Rollercoasters are overrated. I like the comfort our little apartment gives us, it’s nice and warm in here and I have you next to me.” She set the cookies on the coffee table in front of the couch. “We don’t need to go on extravagant adventures, you seem to have enough of those when you’re awake.” 

“You deserve better, though. Not a guy in his late teens that is constantly tired and would rather sit on a couch drinking tea than going on a rollercoaster.” 

“I deserve you, and you are more than enough for me.” Y/N sighed, moving Remus’ hair out of his eyes. He couldn’t feel her physically, but it was still a nice gesture. “I’m not exactly itching to go on grand adventures. That’s what meeting you is for.” 

“You’re only 5,437 miles away, anyway.” Remus’ mouth twitched into a sad smile. “That’s nothing.” 

“Hey, it’s better than 5,438 miles.” 

“You got me there.” 

~

“What would you do if I came to London and surprised you?” Y/N laid her head on Remus’ thigh while he moved his hand through her hair, trying to imagine what it felt like. 

“I’d probably get rather quiet and not know what to do if I’m being honest,” Remus observed how Y/N’s locks flowed through his fingers like water and how it contrasted against the forest green upholstery of the couch. 

“Maybe let out a few cuss words?” 

“Why are you so obsessed with me cussing?” 

“Your accent is hot, especially when you say ‘fuck.’ I like to hear it.” Y/N smiled cheekily and watched Remus’ pupils dilate. 

“Fuck,” The words fall off his tongue with his Welsh accent. Much of the Welsh had faded, due to living at Hogwarts and now London, but it was still very apparent in his speech.  Y/N giggled and squirmed. 

“Yeah, like that. Sometimes you just slip it into casual conversations and I have to compose myself.” 

“Americans are weird, it’s just an accent.” 

“No, it’s not just an accent. It’s your accent so I like to hear it. Sue me!” Y/N threw her hands up in false anguish, lightly bumping Remus’ stomach. 

“You’re so dramatic, love.” 

“I am not dramatic! Just every time I compliment my favorite person in the world he says I’m weird! Maybe you’re the weird one, Lupin!” 

“Fine, I’m the weird one. Does that make you happy?” His voice sounded exasperated, but he was staring down at her with the fondest expression.

“Extremely.” 

~

“Do you think Sirius, James, and Peter would like me?” Y/N sat on the counter of the dream kitchenette. 

“They already do like you, dear.” Remus stood between her legs with his hands resting on her thighs. With her sitting so high, they were almost the same height. “Why?” 

“Well they’re important to you, and you’re important to me, so I want them to like me. It would suck if your friends hated me.” 

“You don’t have to worry about that. They even have a nickname for you,” Remus looked away, his cheeks turned slightly red. This piqued Y/N’s attention. 

“A nickname? What is it?”

“Button.” Remus’ cheeks were dusted a light rose color and his ears were bright red. 

“Button? Why Button?” 

“Well, a few years ago we were all going around and describing our soulmates. I said that you were as cute as a button and I guess the name stuck.” 

Butterflies erupted in Y/N’s stomach and she planted a kiss on his cheek. “Why can’t I just apparate to you again?” 

“We talked about this, love. You’ve never been here and I’ve never been there so you can’t apparate straight here. And the plane ride between us is almost 11 hours.” 

“Fucking hell.” Y/N sighed in frustration. 

“Fucking hell, indeed.” 

~

“I did something, and you have to promise not to be mad at me.” Y/N paced around the kitchenette while Remus lounged on the couch. His head shot up at her words. 

“What did you do?” His mind raced a mile a minute and he prepared himself for the worst. Y/N probably found someone better than him and wanted to cut off contact. 

“It’s nothing bad, relax.” 

“Well if it’s not bad, why would I be mad?” Y/N sighed and sat next to him on the couch. 

“Well, in the real world I’m sort of on a plane to London right now.” 

Remus’ eyes bulged and he jumped off the couch. “You’re coming? Here? Really? Now?” 

“Well, I’ll be there in about four hours.” Remus was now pacing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?! Mine and Sirius’ flat is a wreck!” 

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to back out for a silly reason like a messy apartment.” Y/N stood and reached for her boy. “I love you and I couldn’t wait any longer.” 

“Four hours?” 

“Yes, four hours.And I need a ride from the airport.” 

~

Y/N stood atop the escalator and looked at the crowd below, scanning all the faces for her love. Her face crinkled when she didn’t see Remus but two young men holding a piece of cardboard with her name written in black marker on it. She realized that the two were, in fact, James Potter and Sirius Black. 

“Sirius and James?” She said walking up, suitcase in hand. Both were much taller than Y/N and extremely handsome, making her feel slightly uncomfortable under their gaze. Both young men grinned down at her. 

“Ah, you must be Button. Nice to know Remus talks about us enough for you to recognize our handsome faces,” Sirius exclaims, putting the cardboard under his arm and nudging James. “You’re even prettier than Rem described.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Well, you aren’t exactly hard to miss. Long hair, leather jacket, combat boots, overly flirty,” Y/N turns to James. “Glasses, The Beatles shirt, tired expression. Obviously, you’re James Potter and Sirius Black.” She smiles and pulls her hair behind her ear. “Congrats on the baby, by the way.” 

James beams, “Thanks! Kinda crazy considering the circumstances, but you know how it goes.” He takes Y/N’s luggage and starts walking towards the exit. “You threw Moony into quite a panic, you know. It was one of the best things I’ve seen in a while.” 

“It had to be done, he’s been putting it off for years. Something about not wanting me to be disappointed, whatever that means.” 

“Ah, classic moons. Glad you came though, really shakes up our daily schedule.” Sirius responds. The three make their way to a Volkswagon Beetle and James pops the trunk to put Y/N’s luggage inside. 

“Why didn’t he come and get me? Not that I mind the company, of course.” Sirius crawls into the back middle seat, leaving Y/N to sit shotgun with James driving. “Woah, I forgot it’s on the wrong side.”

“He pussied out, I’m sure you know how nervous he gets,” James pulled out onto the street and down the road. “And what’s on the wrong side?” 

“Your car and the road, James. It’s on the wrong side.” 

“It’s not on the wrong side, maybe you’re on the wrong side. Ever think of that?” He turned his head to look at her, the thick frame glasses on his face sliding down his nose. 

“See! You agree! I am currently on the wrong side!” Y/N giggled and hugged her backpack to her chest. 

Sirius also lets out a loud, bellowing laugh. Y/N felt as though she had known these two her entire life; in a way, she had. 

The three pulled into a parking structure and she exited the beetle. (The car, she had come to discover, was named Lennon, after John Lennon himself.) She hadn’t been nervous up until this moment, staring at the apartment door. James patted her shoulder and smiled. 

“It’ll be okay. He’s the same Remus you’ve been talking to for the past however many years.” 

“Yeah, if you even get him to talk,” Sirius pushes his way between the two and towards the door, lugging Y/N’s bag into the flat. He drops the luggage in the middle of the living room and flops onto the couch. “Oh, Moonbear, your lover is here! Get your fine ass out of your room, before I take it out here myself!” 

Y/N cautiously pads into the house, taking in the atmosphere of the home. It was very similar to their dreamscape, very small and sparsely decorated. However, the flat seemed to have 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, as well as a few closets. The livingroom had various framed band posters hanging on the walls, as well as a big framed picture of the entire friend group. Y/N could point out who was who easily as she observed it. 

“Lily is so pretty,” She said aloud and pointed between two blondes. “Which one is Marlene and which one is Mary?” 

Sirius and James look at eachother and share a laugh. “Merlin, he really does talk about us.” James points at the girl with the big, poofy hair. “That one’s Marls, the other is Mary.” 

“Makes sense, since I’m assuming that’s Dorcas?” Y/N’s gaze moves from the blonde to a pretty brunette next to her. 

“Oi, Moons, I didn’t realize you spoke about us so much,” James says, making Y/N turn around. In all his glory, Remus Lupin stood in the living room, decked out in jeans, and a The Smiths shirt. He was perfectly imperfect, and Y/N’s entire body warmed. His gaze didn’t leave Y/N as James spoke but he allowed his jaw to grow slightly slack and his hands to pull his shirt down. 

“You’re even more beautiful in person, how is that possible?” His voice was breathy and light as if he was in complete awe. The light from the windows highlighted his cheekbones and made his features look unbelievably sharp, creating shadows that danced down his neck. He looked heavenly in absolutely every way possible, and this moment made her entire travel day worth it. Y/N blushed and stepped towards him. 

“Nice shirt, missed you at the airport, though.” 

Remus rolls his eyes and pulls his girl close to him. “Sorry ‘bout that, sunshine.” 

Y/N nestled her face into his chest, taking deep breaths of his cologne. He was even better than she expected, all the way down to the wool socks he wore. Remus’ hand came to gently stroke her hair before looking up to see his friends. Unsurprisingly, though, the living room was now empty and Sirius’ bedroom door was closed. 

“You smell so good, is that weird to say?” Y/N mumbles into the fabric of his shirt. “Like pine, and candy. I don’t know how to describe it.” She felt his chest vibrate as he laughed. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally here.” 

“Had’ta be sneaky, catch you off guard.” Y/N looked up into his eyes and glanced down to his lips. 

The soft look of admiration she had seen so many times crossed his features as he leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss. 

[fuzziemutt]

Okokok. Than, Logan comforting Remus after he freaks out on his brother when his emotions and everything are just all over the place and he feels bad but Logan's hugs are just so nice he can't help but feel better

Gosh, I feel so bad for getting to all of these so late ! I work on these whenever I can which is often at 1 am and I'm procrastinating other work asjdjs; I hope this is what you meant, friendo !

Tw: self-hatred, some violent depictions from rem being rem, panic attack, if I miss any (same with tags) please tell me !

His hands were shaking. Why were they shaking ? He wanted them to stop shaking so badly. Roman was still talking but he couldn’t make out what he was saying anymore. He didn’t know what it was exactly, but his twin just said something that caused his brain to feel as if it was getting repeatedly stabbed by an icicle in the next second. All he knew now was that he wanted him to shut up. Shut up.

Everything was too much. Too much. Too much.

The thoughts flooding in as if a vein just got sliced open were TOO MUCH. He wanted them to SHUT UP.

He didn’t even realize what he was doing until he already swung his fist. Roman was likely caught off guard with the way he stumbled back with a shout. Remus didn’t even give the other any time to rebalance himself before he dashed off. 

Oh god, what has he done ? They’re going to throw him out. His brother is going to hate him again. He hurt his brother. HE HURT HIS BROTHER.

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, practically scrambling across the floor with his mad dash. He didn’t even have to think about it as he shoved himself through a familiar door. A messy room, that many would assume to be tidy, with a singular figure tucked in the corner of his window sill, a book resting in his hands and more by his side.

Rem knew he looked like a mess at that moment. His makeup was probably already running down his cheeks as he heaved air as quickly as he could into his shaky being. The way the other’s face quickly snapped into one of concern and the way he rushed over, leaving the book to fall to the floor seemed to confirm it to him.

Logan hanged back a bit from his trembling form, and he knew Log was saying something but his ears were ringing too badly to interpret anything. However, the second Rem raised his arms with such terror and the need for help in his eyes gave him two arms quickly surrounding him.  

He was so stupid for having done that. He didn’t even know why Log would so willingly even come near him; he was terrible. Dangerous. A Monster. 

A hand resting upon his head stopped his spiraling thoughts like a falling body finally becoming one with the ground. He focused everything on the way it weaved in and out of his messy strands, on the way the warmth seemed to now surround him, the way the chest pressed against his face slowly rose and fell with intent. 

He began to breathe in deeply to the same rhythm, sobs trapped in the back of his throat. He was contained. He couldn’t hurt anyone while trapped like this. Despite how much he hated the thought of needing to be contained for what he might do, he couldn’t help but slowly let go of the tension claiming all his muscles at the thought of his very own threat level being eliminated. 

Log’s words finally began to trickle into his mind as the white noise began to fade out. “I have you. Just breathe. You’re going to be okay,” kept getting repeated so gently into his ear as the other seemed to shield him from the world. 

“I... I h-hurt him.. oh god, I hurt him,” Rem couldn’t help the words rushing out between sobs, some explanation peppered throughout if one could even understand his muffled, panicked speech. 

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I know you didn’t mean it. You panicked and lashed out. You’re going to be okay,” he didn’t believe the words being told to him but Log was saying it with such confidence he couldn’t help but wonder if the other was right even if it was for a fleeting moment. Log kept his tiny mantras up as he guided them to the bed which Rem was secretly thankful for as his legs threatened to give out underneath him.

He clung onto the nerd with all his might as they merely sat there, Log stroking his hair and whispering soft reassurances. Eventually, his sobs began to die down as the warmth and love coming from this thought to be cold man began to seemingly infect his own being. His eyes hurt but he wouldn’t dare let go of the shirt in his fingers. The thought of his makeup being rubbed all over said shirt almost brought a chuckle out of him if his throat didn’t feel like he had nails shoved down it mere moments ago.   

Yes, everything was going to be fine. I’ll talk to Rom later. He’s my brother, he would understand. Yes, yes, he was going to be okay.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of panic, non-negative thoughts circled in his head and with them, came the exhaustion. He didn’t even make an effort to move as he felt so safe in the arms holding him so closely. He honestly wished he had the energy to kiss the man those arms belonged to; instead, he let himself slump against him. 

“I love you...” was all he could provide in a fragile whisper. He didn’t even need to hear the echo of it as he let himself fall asleep with a warmth settled in his chest.

[we-are-fam-ily]

Witness Protection

A random idea I had at work the other day!

Characters: Roman Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Procrasti(Nate)ion, Remy(Sleep), Emile Picani, Deceit Sanders, Thomas Sanders

Ships: Familial Logince, Familial Moxiety, Remile, Procrasticeit? (Is there a ship name for Nate and Deceit?)

Summary: Patton’s new co-worker has a mysterious past, but seems fairly normal for an actor. Soon a new family moves into town and Roman starts acting strange

Wordcount: 1,661

Trigger warning: Death mention, Sympathetic Deceit, Mentions of Child Abuse, Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of Human Trafficking

“I’m just saying, you oughtta stay away from that guy.”

“Nate, kiddo, he’s my co-worker.”

“Pat. I love you, man, but here on the force, we get told stuff.” Nate Harper paused and stared at something out the window of the small café. “I can’t really say much, but watch out for him.”

Patton Heart sighed and gave his cocoa a mutinous look. Nate was probably right, but that didn’t mean that he was going to listen.

“Breaking News!” Both men turned to the TV in the corner. “Robert Pride, CEO of Pride Industries, has been officially charged with human trafficking, drug possession, money laundering, electoral fraud, and child abuse. His second wife, Amelia Pride nee Greed, has been brought in for questioning on the same charges.”

Nate grimaced.

“Don’t listen to that crap, Patty.” The news blared on.

“An anonymous witness came forward early last month, and has now been relocated using a witness protection program. The heir to the Pride family, Robert’s oldest son, is assumed dead. His youngest son has been taken in by a longtime friend who has no ties to the Pride syndicate.”

“I feel sorry for those boys.”

Nate sighed. “You’ve gotta big heart, Patty.”

Patton gave him a short hug before they parted.

~~

“Friends, Countrymen! I have arrived!” Roman Prince lit up the room with his exuberant personality and wide gestures.

“Come to bury Caesar, and not praise him?” Patton’s brother Thomas looked up from his literature homework.

Roman laughed and ruffled the younger teen’s hair. “Indeed. Where is my squire, fair prince Thomas?”

Patton watched as his youngest brother poked his head from behind Thomas. “Heya, Princey.”

“Why is Thomas a prince while Virgil is only a squire, kiddo?” Patton wasn’t entirely sure why he spoke up from his place behind the counter.

Roman shrugged and looked at Virgil.

“Would you rather be our Dark and Stormy Knight?”

The eight-year-old shook his head. “I don’t like the spotlight.”

Roman gave Patton a look that said ‘that’s what he said’, and Patton shook his head.

“Alas, friends, I must make my way to the back, and begin my work for the day!”

Roman swept into the back of the bakery, grabbing a hairnet from the box behind Patton as he went. There was soon a clatter of dishes and the muted notes of a Disney song filtering through the door.

 ~~

It was a few weeks later when Remy Dormir blustered through the bakery door, white-knuckling his refillable Starbucks mug.

“Patton, babe, I’m in love.”

“Aw, kiddo, that’s great!”

“He’s a therapist. With a son. And his brother was looking at Nate like I’m about to lose my best friend.”

Patton grinned and Roman burst into the lobby from the back of the bakery.

“I hear someone is dealing with matters of the heart? Do tell, fair friend!”

Remy winced at Roman’s proclamation.

“It’s too early for your volume, girl.”

The baker looked affronted, wiping his floury hands on his crown-patterned apron and making offended noises.

“It’s never too early for projecting if one is an actor, Pumpkin Spice Bore.”

“Okay, kiddos, let’s be nice. What did you say your new friend’s name was, Rem?”

The coffee addict took on a starry-eyed look normally reserved for venti lattes.

“Emile. Emile Picani.”

There was a loud thwack as Roman ran face first into a wall.

“You O.K., kiddo?”

“Never better, Padre. I’m practically perfect in every way.”

 ~~

They came in on Roman’s day off. Two tall, relatively good looking men and a boy, around Virgil’s age. Virgil perked up from his seat in the corner.

“That’s my friend, Logan,’ he whispered to Patton. ‘He’s new.” Patton ruffled his brother’s hair.

“Well, go say hi, kiddo!”

Virgil shuffled past the counter so he would be visible to the other boy and waved shyly. The boy, who was wearing a necktie of all things, looked up to one of the men for approval before slowly making his way across the story.

“Salutations, Virgil.”

“Hi, L.” He glanced back at Patton. “Pat, c’n I get a cookie for Logan?”

Patton smiled and fished two cookies from the complementary cookie jar.

“Here you go, kiddos.” He handed one to his brother and the other to the new boy. “I’m Patton, my dad owns the bakery.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mister Patton. Are you Virgil’s brother?”

“Yup!”

The shorter of the two men approached the counter. “Hi! Remy said this was the best bakery in the area. I’m Emile, and this is my brother Dee.” He gestured to the other man, who was looking around and stroking the massive birthmark on his cheek self-consciously. “This is my adopted son, Logan.”

“It’s nice to meet you all! Thanks for dropping by! I’m Patton, this is my youngest brother Virgil.” Patton shook the proffered hand.

“This baked good is indistinguishable in taste from those my older sibling has made for me in the past.”

Virgil made a sound of distress, and Patton looked over to see tears building in Logan’s eyes.

“Oh no! Kiddo, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry, is the cookie that bad?”

The boy shook his head and crammed the rest of the cookie in his mouth. Emile knelt down next to him.

“Want to talk about it, Logan?”

Logan swallowed the cookie and wiped his face with his polo sleeve.

“I momentarily found myself noticing Ro’s absence. My apologies for my outburst.”

“Want another cookie, kiddo?”

Logan looked up to Patton.

“Yes please.”

 ~~

“I think you used your cookies to bake that boy’s heart, RoRo!”

Roman’s laughter from the back was halfhearted.

“Hey, Pattycake, can we talk about something else?”

Patton glanced through the door to see his coworker looking forlorn. “Sure, kiddo. Are you doing ok?”

“Just bitterly jittery and not very glittery today, Padre. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure, kiddo.”

He was so focused on Roman that he almost didn’t hear the bell chiming. He turned to find Virgil dragging Logan in with a determined look on his face.

“Stay here, L. I’ll be right back.”

Logan looked a bit confused as Virgil dashed behind Patton, grabbed a hairnet, and ran into the back. Patton shook his head fondly.

“He just went to beg fresh cookies out of Princey, kiddo. How was school today?”

“Acceptable. Virgil requested assistance with his math homework, bringing me here to work on it. I hope we are not an imposition?”

“No worries, kiddo. Virgil comes here to do homework all the time.” Patton smiled at Logan. “Our other brother Thomas comes in sometimes as well. He’s in high school.”

Logan nodded. “Virgil told me everything he could think to tell me about his family, so I am aware.” He then looked sheepish. “My apologies if that came off as less than polite. I am still unused to interacting with anyone but my brother.”

“No problem, kiddo! That’s a-ok with me!”

“Thank you.”

Virgil came skipping back out with two warm cookies wrapped carefully in a napkin.

“Contraband!” He handed one to Logan and stuffed the other in his mouth. “Mf! Ht!”

Logan cracked a grin. “Of course it is hot, Virgil.” He took a small bite of his, still smiling at Virgil.

“So, kiddo,’ Patton began conversationally. ‘What brings you and your dad to our little town?”

Logan’s face turned sour. “Emile is not my father. My father murdered my half-brother and was accosted for it. I hate to sound emotional, but I hope they let father rot in prison for his misdeeds.”

Virgil started glaring at Patton halfway through Logan’s speech, and tentatively wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulder when he finished.

“Uh. Wow. Ok, kiddo. Thanks for being willing to share!”

 ~~

It all went down several days later. Thomas called Patton to pick him up from drama rehearsal, so Patton left Roman and Virgil to watch the bakery. Well, Roman to watch the bakery and Virgil to mope about Logan having to go somewhere after school.

Patton and Thomas pulled up to the bakery shortly after the Picani’s car rolled up, so they watched in shock as Logan got out of the car, noticed something inside the bakery, dropped his bag and dashed into the bakery. Patton was out the car in a flash, right behind Emile.

They were greeted with the sight of Roman tightly holding a sobbing Logan to his chest, tears running down his face.

“Roman?” Patton turned to see Emile and Dee standing in the doorway, looking at Roman like they’d seen a ghost.

“Hey, Doc. Hi, Jekyll and Lied.”

Patton closed the bakery and made hot cocoa.

~~

“You were the anonymous witness.”

“Yeah. Had to wait until I turned 18, so that I might be able to take Lo with me. Didn’t work out, obviously.”

“You didn’t think to call us?”

“Emmy, you know me. I don’t remember phone numbers.”

“He has a website.”

“Get away from me with your facts, Lies and Dolls.”

Logan hadn’t let go of his death grip on Roman’s apron, not even for a mug of cocoa. Virgil huddled close to Thomas, worried by the emotions running rampant in the small shop.

“I think we’re missing information, kiddo. What happened?”

Sheepishly, Roman looked at Patton.

“So, I wasn’t completely honest when I started working here. My name is Roman Pride, heir to Pride Industries. Uh. My father was bad business, so I went to the police and reported him, so they put me in witness protection. Logan is my half-brother.” He paused to look down at Logan, smiling a little at the boy. 

“I heard from Remy that Emile was in town, but I tried to stay away, so I had no idea that Virgil’s Logan was my little brother. I thought he would just get placed in Foster Care. I was going to look for him in a few months, when the fervor died down.”

“No wonder Nate said you were suspicious.”

[bellatrixobsessed1]

I’ll Meet You At The Bottom (Part 15)

So a little good news and a little bad news. Good news; today I contacted a publisher. I might be getting an original short story published. The bad news: this means I might not be able to update this fic as regularly. I’m definitely going to try, but I’m going to be putting more work into polishing my short story.

Azula pulled herself up, sore all over. She threw her belongings into her pack with such an alarmingly unnecessary fury. She’d stayed the night to prove that she wasn’t afraid, but she no longer desired their company. She didn’t desire any company at all. She supposed that deep down, she’d always felt as though she belonged alone.

 “Here.” Chan made off to dab at her head with a wet cloth.

 She slapped his hand away, “don’t touch me.”

 “I should have stepped in.”

 “I didn’t want your help.” She frowned and continued to fold her sleeping bag. With a sharp hiss, she clutched her ribcage.

 “Let me see it.” Chan reached out again.

 “I said don’t touch me.” This time her holler was loud enough to get a rouse from Taeyul and Wire. Even as she did so, she lifted her shirt some. She cringed at the sight of her sides, they were bruised and swollen all the way up, making it hard to move at all. She wouldn’t abandon her task though.  She would get an extra pouch of Ruby Tears from Chan and be on her way. She tightened her bag shut.

 “You really gonna leave us, pretty lady?” Minho asked.

 “You won’t miss me.”

 “That ain’t true.”

 “Ain’t it?” Azula mocked, she tugged up her shirt. “This is your fault. You and Yoona.” He flinched at the display. “Oh, I know what this is about. You just want more of this.” She hitched her shirt up an inch or two more, something she’d been all too good at lately. “That’s all you wanted, wasn’t it?” Two days late, the regret was setting in. Loneliness and desperation had made her easy. She recalled how he’d first leered at her, how could she have been so foolish? Azula tossed the pouch between her hands. Maybe Kohza was right, maybe she was just a ruby whore. She dropped herself back down. “Well, you got what you wanted, don’t think you’ll get it again.”

 “That weren’t all I wanted.” She thought she heard Minho say. “It were at first, maybe.”

 Azula ignored him. She would sit for a moment more and be on her way, whether Chan wanted to help her home or not. A drawn-out puff from her kiseru helped relax her frayed nerves and seemed to take the edge off of her physical pains. She looked in the direction of the palace, in the direction of home. How many people would be waiting for her? Waiting to drag her back to that loathsome institution. Azula laughed to herself, she’d like to see them try.

  The heavy sound of footsteps indicated Bo-Rem lurking before the girl announced herself. Dropping a token made from a rusty, beaten scrap of metal into Azula’s lap, she said, “You’re leaving? And here we were gonna let you join our gang.”

 The princess had no appetite for sarcasm today. She turned the shard of scrap metal over in her hand regardless. It was cut in an almost perfect circle with only a few sharp edges and bore the double-edged dagger of the Nyūkirā.  She flipped it over again, the back had two engraved letters an ‘P’ and an ‘L’.  In certain light, the metal chunk had a red sheen to it.

 “Boryuk didn’t know what to engrave in the metal for the initials.” Bo-Rem stated.  “So he just went with Minho’s nickname for you.”

 Azula furrowed her brows, thinking back to Mama Mozi. Of her many questions, she didn’t know which to ask first, so she asked the simplest? “Boryuk can metalbend?”

 “A little.” Boryuk shrugged, as if it wasn’t an accomplishment at all.

 Azula came out with the more pressing question.  “What is with you lowlifes and pretending like nothing happened.”

 “That kinda how it be here, pretty lady.” Minho replied.

 “We fight all the time, get it out, then it’s over.” Khoza shrugged. “‘Stead of dragging it out like they do in high-class politics.”

 “You just let it out all at once and get over it.” Wire added.

 “We also had to make sure you could handle us before letting you in.” Bo-Rem replied.

 “That how it work ‘round here.” Yoko declared.

 Azula spared the palace another glance and then turned her eyes to the trinket in her palm. An initiation process, she mused to herself. She supposed any group worth while had some type of hazing to go with it, Agni knew she wouldn’t have let just anyone join her posse. She slipped the token into her pocket.

 “So is you leavin’ or stayin’, pretty lady?” Minho asked.

 Her clothes were dirty beyond all compare, she longed for a nice hot shower, and a meal worth eating. Azula looked longingly at the palace. It would be another impulse decision that she would come to regret, but for now the Nyūkirā felt like real friends. They were rough and unstable, fickle and unpredictable but she was just as so.

 Chan tossed her a bottle of cactus juice. “So how about a trip to the industrial park? We could have a few drinks, make a little noise…”

 .oOo.

 She’s been gone for a little under a week and not one person has seen her. Or maybe they have but just didn’t realize it. Sokka wondered if her haircut had made her look that different. It couldn’t have, Azula had changed a lot but she was still Azula. He could see it on her, he didn’t even have to look, she had a certain aura about her. Sokka ran his fingers through his hair, how could this have happened? Why did he care so much for her? She’d never given him a reason to feel this much distress over her disappearance.  She needed someone, but why did it have to be him? Because, he decided, I was crazy enough to give her a try. Despite it all he had a bit of a weakness for caring for those who were usually looked down upon. And after his brush with his darkest nature, he had a weakness for seeing the humanity in the least sympathetic of people.  

 Yes, at her core, Sokka decided, Azula was in pain. Lost and in pain, and confused. Perhaps afraid even. None of those traits looked well on her and none of them seemed characteristic of her. That may have been particularly why he found himself overcome with stress and worry.

 As Sokka swept his brush over the canvas, he couldn’t help but recall her as he’d last seen her. She was so delicate, as close to death as she could very well get without falling through the thin veil. His brush glided faster as his mind raced. He was almost finished painting on her robe. It was lacking some in texture, but that only seemed right as his life in general seemed to be lacking texture lately.  

 Images infiltrated Sokka’s brain; he saw the princess laying broken and naked in some dirty back alley, she turned to him and asked why he had left her. This image flickered away, only to be replaced by Suki underwater with her arm outstretched, she was asking him where the hell he was. The images seemed to blur together and their questions intertwining.  He put down the brush, his hand trembling too much to pain right.

 He tore down the stairs, knowing that he had to find Azula. He had to find her right then.

If he didn’t he would find her dead.

Just like Yue. Like his mother. Like Suki.

 .oOo.

 The industrial park was the husk of an old war age factory. Like most of the wartime relics, the defeat of the Fire Nation put it out of use. It’s various smoke stacks were barren of their usual puffs and much of its coal had been coughed up and scattered around the dead grass and dirt. Azula knew this factory by its logo, it was the very same one that had pumped out the drill she had overseen a long time off. Spare pipes, cogs, and sheets of scrap metal unutilized were discarded in careless heaps around the park. Azula found herself sitting on the massive rail tracks, once used to transport the drill safely from one end of the park to the next. It was a jarring sight to look down, the hole beneath the track was big enough to swallow her whole. She spied the rusting corpses of war machines deemed unfit to fight for the purpose they were designed. Great machines that weren’t grand enough, discharged before they had a honor of joining the battle. She almost wished that, that could have been her. She leapt down and wandered over to one that may have been a prototype for her tank. It was beaten and unmovable now, but it still looked like it could shatter the terrain it trekked. She wondered what happened to her old tank, one day she would have to drive it again. But for the time being she accepted Chan’s cactus juice.

 One bottle had Azula’s strides a little clumsy. Two made every stupid remark made by Yoko, absolutely hilarious. Two and a half, and Yoona’s speech suddenly made complete sense. Three had her giggling hysterically when Chan tried leaping from a pile of stone blocks onto a pile of rusty beams, he missed by a bit and took a hit right to his manhood. Four bottles had her trying it herself, with more success but just as little grace.

She had to admit that she was having the time of her life. They had taken her on a great many adventures throughout the day; they had taunted a wild kimodo bull, leapt through a broken window to steal a dented kettle just to see if they could, stomped across Mama Mozi’s lawn after she’d turned her back, and tested their parkour when she’d chased them down.  Azula would argue that the kind of leaps and turns they preformed were worthy of high praise, but apparently the owners of the homes used in their show were more concerned with the unwanted intrusion than the impressive display. Their show was cut short when Azula got a first hand demonstration of the reasoning behind Wire’s name. They were doing splendidly, with a new burst of energy courts of the cactus juice, Azula had leapt from one roof to the rickety balcony of the house below. It sent jarring vibrations through her bruised and swollen ribs, but she didn’t notice through her buzzed daze. From there she used the rails to fling herself upon the scaffolding of a house never finished, leaping from one crossbeam to the next. It would seem that the building was privy to invaders for it was rigged all over. Azula had taken the care to dance over and weave through each. Chan and Taeyul not far behind. A loud “ah fuck,” and a decent thud caught her attention. She looked down to see Wire hanging precariously by his feet a story below. Between the ten of them, Wire was free, but his ankles were torn pretty horribly. Thus their rooftop adventure was cut short, all was well though, they had lost Mozi blocks back. And so they came to arrive at the industrial park earlier than planned where Azula had just finished one upping Chan. She finished with a bow that sent her into sudden vertigo. She stumbled forward and toppled over, rolling on to her back laughing. A few feet away Khoza started a round of slow claps—she couldn’t be sure if they were for Chan’s stellar landing or for her elegant bow.  

 “Ey, pretty lady” Minho called from his place atop a pile of discarded pipes and poles.  you wanna have some real fun?” Minho offered. At first she thought that it was another attempt to beg for the sex she promised him he would never get. He held up a satchel of Ruby Tears. Interest captured, Azula sauntered over. It has been a while since she’d had a really good fix. “If you add a bit of dandelion powder, the trips are much better.” Minho explained. “It smells better too.” He added as he dumped a fine dusting of dandelion powder over the Ruby Tears.

  With a fresh waft of Dragon’s Breath clouding her judgment, Azula she found herself lighting various things on fire at first just to see them explode. She and Minho made a game of it; whoever found the most flammable object won. Whoever didn’t, had to kiss Boryuk. A game that had her completely forgetting to hide the color of her flame. Azula scoped the area for something worth lighting. As Minho scoured the trash heap, she shoved her way into the factory. She rummaged through crates both open and sealed, most of them contained broken screws, nails, and bolts. A few had some perfectly intact hammers and wrenches. But they were of no use to her. She could set the mountain of coal on fire, but even at her highest she could still deduce that doing so would draw far too much attention. Coupled with the thought that she would be too drunk to keep a fire of that size in check, she put the idea out of her mind. Perhaps that was the smartest decision she had made all week. At last she came upon what she was looking for. A few sticks of dynamite and a small pile of gun powder. It was only slightly less foolish.

 “Found yours Minho?” She asked.

 “I find mine ‘while ago, pretty lady. Were waiting on you.”

 “Ell urry ip n lye it ip.” Yoona hollered. “Us wan see some sploshions.”

 “After you.” Azula slurred, motioning for Minho to start, after all the best was to be saved for last.

 “A’righty then. Time to bring out the classics.” Minho stabbed a large stick into the ground, nature’s finest firewood. Around it he spread a cluster of leaves. He set it aflame and tossed a lump of coal or two into the mix. She had to admit, his use of the bare minimum created quite a respectable blaze. But it wouldn’t come close to the inferno she was about to create.

 “Alright, Minho, prepare to meet your doom.” She smirked. She put his fire out and set her dynamite and powder in its place. She lit it up and quickly scuttled back. The blast popped and with the assistance of the gunpowder shot quite a distance, right into a sheet of steel where it ricocheted. The burnt of it had died away but the shower of heat that contacted her calf had her nearly on her ass. With a swiftness to match her own, Chan broke her fall.

She counted her blessings that the stick was a dud and that the hit only left a harsh stinging and an angry red mark on her leg.

 “I thinks you wons, pretty lady.” Minho declared backing away from the fire that still burned where the powder had trailed.

 “Whoops.” Azula muttered, but at the same time she relished in her victory. It was the first one she’s had since the eclipse. “Y-you must feelprettybad rightnow.” She laughed, well aware that her slur was growing more apparent. “Because my victory was so explosive, it will be ringing inyourears f-for, for a week.”

 “That pun will be ringing in my ear for weeks to come.” Khoza muttered, obviously not drunk enough for that brand of humor.

 Azula laughed harder, it was more like a cackled at that point. Her fire seemed to laugh with her as it crackled. Leaning up against Chan, she fixed her ear on it. Indeed her fire was talking, speaking to her like it was proud of her. “You’ve finally used me well.” It’s voice died off with a pop. She crawled closer to the fire as it praised her for her mastery of it. A burst of sparks took to the air and showered down on her in the form of compliments. She came closer still and reached her hand out, only to have Chan yank it back.

 “But the fire the fire it wanted me t-to come to it.”

 “It’s a fire, of course it did.” Chan smiled, running a hand over her hair. “I would like you to come to me.”

 Azula peered up at him with innocent eyes, as innocent as her eyes could be anyhow. “Would you?”

 “Absolutely.” He replied, coaxing her away from the hazard she was making of the fire behind her. He bent down enough to find himself level with her.  He brushed her hair out of her face, brushing his thumb over her cheek. Holding her close he mumbled in her ear, “you’re still unbelievably hot.” His hand slid over her thigh.

 She looked at her hands. They were on fire. She was fire. The flames were blue, she was her fire. “I know I am.” She replied, effectively ruining the mood. “I am fire.” She whispered to herself, truly and completely mesmerized by the flames she thought she had become.

 Chan rolled his eyes, but if that made her happy he would go with the moment. “You are fire, huh?” He asked.

 “That’s right.” She smirked, putting a hand on his cheek. Her flame-fingers seemed to lick and dance over his skin. “Do you know what fire likes to do, Chan?”

 “What does fire like to do, princess?” He asked stroking her back.

 “It likes to consume things.” She winked, pushing him to the ground. She needed to take advantage of the moment, it wasn’t every day that her entire body became flame, it never happened at all before then. There was so much raw power that came with being fire, she dared anyone to try to wield her. She would let Chan give it a shot.

 As a fire would, she leapt upon him.

 .oOo.

 As the princess became fire, Sokka snuffed out. He couldn’t find her, he tried so hard, but he couldn’t find her. And if he couldn’t find her, that must mean she’s dead. No one is gone for a week without a trace or a word and comes back alive, especially not a person hooked on drugs and so full of scars. He killed her in some way, shape, or form. He re-entered the palace all fury with a faint feeling that he should have asked for help.

 “Sokka, are you alright?”  

 “I can’t do anything Katara!” He hollered. He didn’t mean to yell at her but he needed to scream. He needed to hit something. “You healed her.”

 “Healed who?”

 “Aang was breathing for her.”

 “Azula? Are you talking about Azula?”

 “Zuko kept the guards on task and the guards brought her to the infirmary. You know what I did Katara?” She made off to answer be he was shouting again. “Nothing! I did nothing.” He was pacing frantically about the room, he did nothing just like when Zhao killed the moon spirt. Just like when Suki’s ship went down.

 “Sokka, that’s not true.” Her arm was on his shoulder.

 He came to an abrupt stop, shoulders slumping. “You’re right, Katara.” The relief in her eyes was short lived. “I did do something. I was the one who put her in that situation. Aren’t I just a great help.” A coffee table was on the floor before, clattering a few decorative platters along with it. He didn’t remember pushing it over, but he was sure that he did. He clasped his hands on his head. It was happening again. And after he swore to himself that he would never lose control again. The fear in Katara’s eyes was unmistakable and he couldn’t blame her for backing away. As compassionate as she was, she wasn’t an idiot. She wasn’t reckless like him, she knew when to back away from someone so far out of it that they couldn’t come back in on their own.

 For the first time he considered that he had never truly healed at all, that he’d been bottling it in the whole time, pretending that everything was okay. It wasn’t.

He wasn’t.

 He kicked the wall once, maybe twice, maybe thrice—he’d lost count after the first.

 “Sokka please.” Katara called. “You have to calm down.”

 He didn’t mean to but he chucked at that. “Okay, sure thing Katara, let me just flick my rage switch off. He watched her cringe against the wall, just like she did when the first time. He had hit her, not because he was mad at her, but because he was mad and she was there. This time he hit himself, it drove away the urge and was better than hurting her again. He wouldn’t be able to take it if he hurt his own sister again, just like he couldn’t take it that he had pushed Azula over the edge.

 Strangely enough, he found himself hating Suki. For leaving him, for doing this to him.  

 To his surprise Katara approached him. “No, no you have to go. I’m going to hurt you again.”

 “You won’t.” Katara insisted hugging him as close as she could, bringing a halt to his self-beating. “I won’t let you.”

 “I’m sorry Katara.” He whispered, his rage subsiding to make room for tears. “I’m so sorry.” He wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for the present or for the strife he caused her in the past. He needed to get a grip. He needed someone to help him find one. “You’re not going to blame her are you, it’s not her fault.”

 “Will it make you feel better if I don’t.” Katara asked.

 Sokka nodded.

 “Then I won’t. On one condition.”

 He waited.

 “Let me help you. I know you haven’t been yourself.”

 “Then why didn’t you say something?” He asked. “You’re afraid of me aren’t you.”

 “No, Sokka! You know that’s not true. I didn’t want to push you.”

 “Help me help Azula.” He quickly added, “you don’t even have to talk to her, just give me some support.”

 Katara sighed. “I’ll do what I can.”

 Sokka tried to smile, he thought that it almost worked. Maybe this time around, he would heal for real. Maybe they both could. If only the princess would come home.

 .oOo.

 In the week to follow, they had a lot of questions for Azula, having seen her fire for what it really was. She cringed, waiting for the backlash. It came in the form of an unrelenting rain of questions. What was it like to live in the palace? Is it true that you have your own personal guards? Is there a hot spring in palace, I heard there were three. And from Yoona, though jumbled as usual, Azula made out, “can you hook me up with your brother.” She came to conclude that Yoona was the most merciless of gang. Khoza was the only one who had no questions to ask. He was content to give commentary, “that explains a lot” among other thing.

Truth be told, Azula had expected repercussion and another beating, but they seemed to treat her no differently. Not better nor worse. They still treated her with all of the roughness of the days prior, they still expected her to accompany them on all of their ventures no matter how much class they lacked.

 That week had been the best week of her life. Save for the bottle and the dust, she was free. Truly free.

 In that week, she had grown fond of Minho. More so than she’d like to admit. He told her about his family. About his little brother Hi-Yung, who still had the cloth rabbaroo he’d sewn for the kid. Of his mother, crippled by a carriage accident—the one that killed his father. He told her of his dreams and asked her if she could help him. “I know I aren’t the brightest ‘round. But I have a idea. I has lots a ideas. I want to tell stories. I want folks to read ‘em.” So she let him tell her stories of the made up sort and of real adventures he’d been on.  And he was good at it, several nights in a row he lulled her to sleep with his wild tales. So did something she seldom ever did. She made him a promise. That when she got back to the palace and sorted things out, she would find him again and teach him to read and write. He was a brilliant man, she had come to conclude, a brilliant man who had never gotten a chance. She found out more than she ever wanted to know about him. He was rather comforting and made her feel less alone in her addiction. And when the others were fast asleep, she exchanged a story of her own. And he reminded her that she was strong, useful, worthwhile. He made her feel as though she wasn’t alone. He told her that he wanted to stop taking Ruby Tears and that they could do it together.

 Perhaps that’s why his death hit so hard.

[dazais-guardian-angel]

Lloyd, Luke, and Kashuu?

Send me a character

Lloyd:

First impression: I thought his name was funny for a jrpg hero lol, and thought he was cute and dorky.

Impression now: He’s a great character, very attuned to the people around them and their emotions even if he’s not book-smart, and he’s sweet and caring and wants everyone to be happy

Favorite moment: Without a doubt, the scene in the anime, I forget which episode it is (one of the United World ones) where Zelos betrays them and pulls Colette over with him, and Lloyd says to him “You’re not a fool, so why do you act as if you are?” It may seem like a small moment, but that line is SO indicative of Lloyd’s character, and how he sees right through Zelos’ act and knows that he has deeper reasons for doing what he’s doing. It’s just a great moment overall and just shows so well why I love Lloyd ugh

Idea for a story: This has probably been done a hundred times over, but it’d be nice to see him and Kratos forming a closer relationship if the latter decided to not be a dick and leave him behind for Derris-Kharlan.

Unpopular opinion: I don’t know if this is unpopular or not, but the ending where Zelos dies? Lloyd would NOT accept that happening so casually; it is so out of character for him I can’t even begin to describe it. I really hate that ending okay ;slkdjffkld;dlkf

Favorite relationship: Lloyd and Zelos, definitely strictly platonically, thank you

Favorite headcanon: I’d like to think that Lloyd and Yuan form some kind of close-ish relationship after the story ends? Since none of Yuan’s friends are left, and Lloyd is without Kratos now, and Yuan probably spent some time with baby Lloyd in the past. Idk it would be nice.

Luke: (there will be major spoilers for Tales of the Abyss)

First impression: Thought his brattiness was a little annoying, but amusing; I knew he’d get better so it didn’t bother me too much except a few times.

Impression now: Luke is, without exaggeration, my favorite fictional character of all time; he has the most incredible character development I have ever seen, and his whole story and character is so heartbreaking, emotional, touching, beautiful, awe-inspiring, human, I could go on and on. His changes are so realistic and natural (again, human), and the way he struggles to find a reason for his existence and then finally finds it and fights so hard to keep it, it left such a huge impact on me, as I know it does everyone who plays Tales of the Abyss. His wishes, and desires, and fears, and insecurities, and depression are so relatable despite the fantasy setting of the story, and that’s why I love him so much, and why so many others do as well.

Favorite moment: How on earth can I CHOOSE??? But if I had to choose, it’d be the Tower of Rem scene where Luke is crying to himself that he doesn’t want to die, over and over again; and then the scene near the end of the game with Luke’s speech to Asch about why he deserves to be alive, right before their duel. I can’t choose between them, both of them are some of the most powerful scenes I’ve ever experienced in anything, just UGH

Idea for a story: Ion lives and is with Luke and co for the rest of the game to react to all the terrible stuff that happens in the last third. just that. because i need it. i need Ion to be there for Luke okay im so sad lskdjfjd

Unpopular opinion: Since apparently this is an unpopular opinion (or at least it seems like it…), Luke is the one who came back in the end, canonically. People can make AUs where it’s others, but Bamco made a mistake by saying “it’s up to interpretation”, because everything points to it being Luke. Not even just talking about the worldbuilding evidence here; even ignoring all that, the narrative itself does not work at all unless Luke is the one who comes back in the end. Making it anyone else completely destroys the theme and message of TotA, and Luke’s entire character arc, and saying that it’s anyone else canonically does a disservice to both.

Favorite relationship: Luke and Ion, and Luke and Jade. Can’t choose, sorry.

Favorite headcanon: Luke spends a lot of time with Florian post-game, and they visit Ion’s grave sometimes and Luke tells Florian about him.

Kashuu:

First impression: “He’s so pretty and fashionable and sassy; I like him. Look at those nails, even.”

Impression now: Kashuu is wonderful; he’s funny, cute, sometimes sarcastic, and he doesn’t voice his true feelings easily but he cares deeply for everyone, especially Yasusada (and someone else). He’s very strong mentally and emotionally, just like Yasusada is.

Favorite moment: In episode 12 of Hanamaru season one where he says to Yasusada “I wanted to protect Okita too… because I love him!” :’) 3 

Idea for a story: I’d really like to see him interact with Okita, since we know how Yasusada has. Share your innermost feelings, Kashuu yes there’s the above line but I want more

Unpopular opinion: Idk if it’s unpopular or not but he really does care about Okita, despite what happened to him at Ikedaya? He’s got all these bitter feelings about being abandoned by Okita and can’t help but hold that against him somewhat (and the things he says about wanting to tell him to treat him more carefully and stop getting blood all over him), and he’s moved on to their new master and isn’t held back by missing Okita all the time like Yasusada is, but deep down he truly does care about him and feels sorrow about what befell Okita, and has to realize that him breaking wasn’t his fault, even if it’s hard for him to acknowledge that to himself.

Favorite relationship: Kashuu and Yasusada

Favorite headcanon: He probably goes around threatening to paint people’s nails if they annoy him or if they lose a bet they make with him lol. The tantous probably like it when he does theirs, though.

Thanks!