#bc like. raised as a trophy child and all that. i feel like. if was doing better or enough then i wouldn't be so uncomfortable

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Oh haha yeah I'm definitely feeling better <- he is not talking to people

[dellalyra]

Family Formation Part Three

Summary: The Gojo's share a soft, warm moment with Yuuji after an unexpected midnight run in.

SERIES MASTERLIST requests currently open :)&lt;3

CW: fluff, pregnancy, mild threat, sukuna being sukuna, this is almost more of a crack fic but like it's really soft bc so many people wanted Y/N and Gojo to adopt Yuuji after part two but part four... is going to be heartbreaking I'm sorry

11.43pm - Tokyo Prefectural High School, Dorm Building Kitchen

You’re in the common room, waiting for your husband to finish up a mission - looking at your phone you see him say he’ll be about 10 minutes, so you go to make yourself a quick cup of tea before he gets here and goes home. You could hear the kids up in their dorms until about 30 minutes ago after you had made dinner for you all this evening.

As you boil the kettle, you feel a silent presence lurking behind you, just at the entrance to the kitchen- a drastic shift in cursed energy, one you’d rather not be familiar with but sadly have come to know all too well. You continue to prepare your tea in peace. “Evening, Sukuna.” You say, with an exasperated sigh. A kitchen conversation with the King of Curses wasn’t quite how you imagined this evening to go but you’ll make do. It feels like your baby starts to sense the cursed energy too, with them kicking a little more since Sukuna’s arrival - Gojo genes are strong in this one you see.

A growl emanates through the room, “You dare address me so casually, wench?” “I do, Sukuna, you’re far too smart to start shit in here and with me right now, so do shut up and let me enjoy my tea.” “Oh, what a brave little girl you are - are you in any position to do anything but beg for me to spare the life of you and your child?” His eyes seem to flow red through the dimly lit room.

“I would say I’m rather well safeguarded yes, I’m a special grade sorcerer, and even 7 months pregnant I could inflict decent damage on you, my husband is Gojo Satoru, and my son who possesses the Ten Shadow technique is down the hall AND is overprotective and down the hall, a girl who may as well be my daughter, doing the same and another Grade 1, but most of all - the body you are housed in is that of a boy who is also as good as a son to me, and the minute you start to show me any real threat I know he will make up and squash your nighttime wandering hopes. So, tell me, what can I help you with, Sukuna?” You roll your eyes, knowing full well he’s trying to grandstand and intimidate you, but you just do not have the patience to deal with it right now. As you speak you pour the water into your mug and sit yourself down with a groan at your tired feet. The glare you were given along with the smirk and what you could only assume to be a laugh may scare some, but not you, you’ve seen and exorcised far worse than Sukuna in a 15-year-old boy's body in the kitchen. “Hm, I like you - you’ve got balls. As for what I wanted, well, I suppose I wanted to see for myself the woman carrying the future of jujutsu sorcery - hardly any fun going through all this trouble to regain my power if there will be nothing interesting to use it on.” He stalls towards you, eyeing you and your growing stomach like a trophy. “The child - it is strong, not even taken a breath and the cursed energy outweighs your own. Possibly it’s fathers too. And you’ve raised the Ten Shadows boy, for a human I almost respect you, there’s nothing quite as entertaining as a fierce woman.”

The flare in your cursed energy at the thought of Sukuna even discussing your children would have blown lesser beings to ash but luckily, years of control and practice have kept you from unleashing the rage of a protective mother - this is not even the first time. The very night Sukuna was reborn inside Yuuji, you stood in front of your injured son Megumi which fire burning inside you as Gojo watched the love and care you had for him and that boy behind you turn into a blast slamming the curse into the building. (Your initial concern for hurting the as-yet-unknown rosey-haired child diminished after having seen how Sukuna reinforced his body during a brief scuffle with your husband).

“Sukuna, you have seen that I am quite clearly pregnant, you’ve done what you came to do - off you go, unless you’re going to say you want tea -” with a snarl and muttering about the insolence of humans and the arrogance of every Gojo he retreats as a waking Yuuji looks around, clearly confused.

“Y/N? Why am I in the kitchen? I was asleep? Wait, why are you here, where’s Gojo-Sensei?” The words all tumble out mingled with a yawn from him. Seeing no reason to hide the truth, you continued. “You’re okay Yuuji, Satoru will be here in a minute, I’m just waiting here for him to finish up a quick mission, didn’t want to drive so I’ll go home with him. And as for why you’re in the kitchen, it seemed your body roommate wanted a midnight stroll.” You put your mug onto the counter as you reboil the water to make some tea for Yuuji, hoping it would coax him back to sleep. “Wait, Sukuna? Are you okay? Oh god, I’m so sorry, what did he want?” He flustered about.

“Yuuji honey, I’m absolutely fine, and you have nothing to be sorry for. He just wanted to see if the rumors of a new Six Eyes could be true. We were all completely safe sweetheart, I sent him packing and pretty much told him if he didn’t want tea he could piss off, he’s too smart to ever try anything that could put himself in danger - so don’t worry, you’re safe with Satoru and me around. Plus, I think this one is going to have both my temper and Satoru’s lack of sanity so, you’re surrounded by Gojo’s who love you.” You pat your belly and then his head and push the chamomile tea mug into his hands. He scratches the back of his neck and thanks you, muttering about how much of a dick Sukuna is. You giggle at him and sit down.

“Wait, did you really ask the king of curses if he wanted tea?” Yuuji asked as if that part of the story had just clicked in his head. “Well, Shoko always said I was too ballsy for someone my size.” You giggle and he laughs too, but nods, knowing you are one of the bravest (and kinda scary in a fight) people he’s met since joining the sorcery world.

“He didn’t want any tea though. Maybe he’s a hot chocolate kinda guy.” You say, with a straight face, Yuuji looks at you for a moment and then bursts into hysterical laughter as you giggle about wrapping Sukuna in a blanket and giving him cocoa with tiny marshmallows. As you’re finishing your tea, Satoru walks (flounces) through the door and leans down to pepper your face with kisses. “Well if it isn’t my dearest, darling, sweetheart, angel wife. Are you ready to go home? I have some snacks for us before bed.” He says as you notice the bags behind his back. He then turns to Yuuji, “Huh, you have Sukuna cooties tonight. What did I miss?” Itadori turns his nose up at the residuals being called cooties. “It’s alright, ‘Toru. Sukuna decided to check out whether the rumor of more Gojo spawn was true. Got poor Yuuji out of bed for it and all.” You reassured him.

“Huh, well, you okay, baby? He didn’t upset you did he?” You loved that Satoru had so much faith in your abilities and strength that he knew he needed to be nothing but support for you, and you’d spoken before about his being surrounded by sorcerers was the safest place for Yuuji to be so you both knew Sukuna wouldn’t risk his chance. You weren’t dumb enough to think you could take down Sukuna alone - only Satoru could have a chance, but you could definitely hold him off with your powerful cursed technique long enough for Satoru to arrive. You kissed his cheek and nodded that you were absolutely fine.

“Gojo-sensei, she offered him tea. Sukuna.” Yuuji said, still in disbelief. “That’s my girl!” Hearing this, Satoru laughed and pulled you into his chest, beaming at his beautifully snarky, witty wife.

“Now, Satoru, let’s get home - it’s late. I can see you yawning, Yuuji, back to bed.” You usher him down the hall to his dorm and make sure he gets into bed, as he sleepily tumbles into his Spider-Man sheets you’d gotten a few months back, you whisper goodnight to him. As you were about to close the door, you hear a very sleepy, barely awake ‘gnight mom, night dad.’ You squeeze Satoru’s hand as you smile at each other, wordless but endless appreciation for what you just heard and have only ever heard from Megumi (rarely) and Tsumiki (you missed hearing it from her). You knew Yuuji would be back to Y/N and Gojo-Sensei tomorrow but now in a sleepy vulnerable moment that’s how he saw and felt about you both was enough to know you guys must be doing something right.

“Satoru, we should really stop picking up stray kids on the street and keeping them.” You giggle thinking of the siblings, Yuuji and the sweet boy you cared for currently in Africa with Miguel. “Hm, nah, we need a whole collection, our own army - now c’mon, the baby just said ‘Hey dad get mom home I want to have cuddles and mochi with you’” in the worst baby impression ever he squeaked at you and he picked you up bridal style to warp you home, but not before you get in a quiet “oh really, when did you become the womb whisperer? That sounds like you want that to me.”

TAGLIST:

@vesta-ro *

@sassy-cat-in-town

@lilithlunas

@madam-ri

[oddball-artz]

OMG YOU HAVE SPOONS!!!!!! YIPPIE!!!! (probably bc you got a good night's sleep)

And if you know me at all, be prepared for the sea of questions>:]

1) Go into detail about Dalia and Sabrina and their family in the second Gen au. Any Hcs or stuff?

2) Nyx and his relationship with his family.

3) (idk if it was onyx or nyx who had the ED, I forgor their names are so similar).Go into detail Abt thier ED, tho.

4) For the love of God drop Hcs till I die, I don't care for who, I just NEED them.

And, if you have spoons don't be afraid to look in your inbox for any other asks I may have sent/nf (bc both me and you forget about the asks tbh)

And as always, ily platonically, man :333

It is not the sleep, I don't need sleep, idk what it was if it wasn't the sleep, but im not being proven wrong /j

I've only got a couple, and they're pretty Dalia centric, but you can have em

Dalia picked up a bunch of tips and tricks for dealing with kids both from helping raise her siblings and from treating kids as a nurse, uses them all the time, her personal favorite thay she's picked up is doubling bedsheets when kids are sick so that if they get dirty you can just take it off and make it a later problem while you comfort said sick child. Dalia is also very sentimental as a parent, cries at every ceremony and graduation. Sometimes she'll say something that sounds like her mother and she goes quiet for a while after that. I have a feeling that Sabrina and Dalia's house tends to be the designated 'safe house' for Vee and Jasper's friends. Dalia's actually kind of happy about this, in her mind it's confirmation that she's not her mother. (This may or may not be based on the fact that my house irl is the safehouse). All I have rn, sorry

Next up Nyx, my boy. He feels like a walking second place trophy compared to all his siblings. Brushes it off in an Rottmnt Leo sort of way, through humor and a facade of confidence. Desperately wants anyone to be proud of him. Takes his little siblings out crimeing™️ together sometimes, and is like the number one supporter of their shenanigans. Let's them steal his shit, as long as they don't get caught(bc he taught them better than that). The only thing he'd put up a fight against having stolen is his binder, but that's about it.

Oh and Onyx is the one with an ED, she has anorexia specifically. It started with her just trying to lose weight, she's fairly light, but her frame is wide, so she didn't see any results and things got drastic from there, especially when people started making fun of her for her body. She's super sensitive to comments about her body, and the bullying just made it so much worse. She hates looking at herself, in mirrors, in pictures, anything. It's like her eyes pick out the flaws every time and she can't stand it. So she's trying to 'fix' herself, much to the worry of the people around her. She eats in the dream bubbles, but that's only because she knows that it isn't real. Harlow noticed this and has started sneaking food into the dream bubbles just so Onyx eats for once. Onyx still hasn't caught onto this.

And various hcs about the sillies

Onyx spins her drumsticks between her fingers when she's bored, she can do it really fast too

Nyx's hoodie he wears in his sprite is his dysphoria hoodie

Gray has a lot of little interests she keeps hidden. They tend to be niche and geeky, so she hides them to protect her image

Nyx can project his voice loud enough to yell over the band

Onyx is only ever quiet when she's flustered or thinking about somthing, other than that there's usually at least a dull chatter coming from her

Onyx is very physically affectionate, she straight up tackle hugs people.

Gray was a pageant kid,and his parents were very competitive about it. They still have all their sashes from it too

Onyx doesn't fight for herself, but if you say something bad about someone she cares about that's when she starts a fight. Starting fights like that is what got her thrown through a window that one time

Onyx is the one who started calling Alison peepaw, and it just stuck after that

When Alison sleeps she doesn't snore, she shuffles through radio channels under her breath, kind of like sleeptalking

Speaking of Alison, he's insecure about the radio affect his voice has

Alison is very protective of the kids she's 'adopted' (usually underclassmen, but they've also taken most of the radio class under their wing)

[domesticangel]

SPRINTING to your ask box to ask if we can know anything about fjóla bc that piece you just posted whips ass!!!! your characters are so epic i want to know everything about them okay bye <3

screaming and crying you’re so sweet thank you 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 okay lemme try to tell u a bit about her but fair warning every time I talk about my ocs I feel like I’m metaphorically putting on rollerblades and flailing and falling and exploding 👍🏻

(also after I’ve typed all this out I’m realizing I should put a trigger warning for domestic abuse and vague implied infanticide)

so fjóla is a leopard seal selkie and lilija’s mother (whom she looks nothing alike, babygirl is the spitting image of her spotted seal father) who is deceased within the like, “current” timeline my characters are set. she was born into a group of selkies that lived their lives mostly as seals as opposed to integrating into society as most selkies in this universe do; the status quo is more or less for selkies to live near or on water and spend time as both seals and humans, but more traditional ones like fjóla and her pack will remain seals for the vast majority of their lives, only occasionally partaking in humanoid environments.

however, she did unfortunately end up living most selkies’ nightmare; her coat was taken and she was trapped in a house with a man she didn’t love and a child she was forced to bear, the main twist being that her “husband” (they never officially married but it’s an easier shorthand), steingrímur, was actually a selkie as well. to make a long story short because this ain’t about him, him and his family became traitors to their local community by helping a gang of dangerous poachers hunt the other selkies for their coats in exchange for immunity. the deal began with steingrímur’s grandfather, and they operated this way in secrecy up until steingrímur was a young adult. by this time, his father and his grandfather had become much more callous about the terrible things they were doing, and began developing a sort of self-hatred fueled “code,” beginning to believe that selkies were a weak, defenseless species that were only ever known for being taken and owned by stronger predators, so it was their responsibility to “rise above” the rest of them and train themselves up as superior superpredators. steingrímur was groomed from the ground up with this mindset, and his “initiation” as a hunter was to capture a particularly fierce leopard seal with a beautiful, pure white coat, which was ofc fjóla. his capture of her coincided with the rest of their local community finding out what exactly their family business entailed, and they had were deemed traitors and had to flee. steingrímur absconded with fjóla and fled while his father and grandfather were captured and essentially community-executed a la ken mcelroy lol.

anyway, all that to say—she was a miserable woman. her coat was taken and sold for a hefty price (its color was pure and rare, on top of the selkie coat black market paying big money for such an illicit good, as in this universe, a selkie’s coat can really only be obtained ethically by being inherited, willingly handed over, etc), she was forced to move somewhere where she knew nothing and nobody, and she had to learn to live life as a human as she had no other option. and she had to do all of it with a very sick, abusive man who held beliefs diametrically opposed to the ones she was raised with—she wanted to live life as a free animal in the open ocean, while her “husband” looked down on her for not getting with the times and abandoning instincts that don’t serve her, and as he sees it, got her captured. he essentially kept her as a trophy. as a cook. and as the vessel that would bear his protege.

she was not cruel in the slightest but she had trouble with warmth and compassion in a conventional sense. her only motherly instincts were very objective; feed the baby, change the baby, put the baby to bed. try not to smother the baby as you stare down at her in her crib, thinking it the only way to guarantee she escapes the man you never could. both her nails and her long, jagged, sharp teeth were kept clipped after she gave steingrímur one too many scars, and she was eventually further sedated with medication and alcoholism. as her daughter grew older, fjóla’s love language primarily became warnings and harbingers of doom; she warned lilija not to be coveted, captured, or desired for her beauty as so many of their species are. she taught her to look over her shoulder at every turn, trust no one, and assume the worst. you don’t want to be a mother or a wife. look at what it’s done to me. promise me you’ll never let anyone close enough to make that happen. promise me that you’ll remember nothing is more important than your freedom. promise me you’ll stop looking more and more like your father every day.

she sometimes waded out into the ocean, forgetting to shed her clothes first, and pretended for seconds at a time that if she wanted to, she could pull her coat over her shoulders and swim away.

anyway. fjóla is very much a character I created to explore motherhood, womanhood, isolation, flattening someone into an image or a memory or a ghost rather than a real person, inherited fear and rage and repression between mother and daughter…she was of course abused and unwell, but the things she told and taught lilija in her formative years played a huge part in lilija’s paranoia regarding interpersonal relationships and how difficult it is for her to form them. fjóla ended up being less a person and more a symbol in everyone’s eyes; a symbol of accomplishment and dominance to steingrímur, and a symbol of every fear and every nightmare any seal woman has ever had to her daughter.

[space-hecate]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐓: Isolabella

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 ――

FULL NAME: Isolabella of Dathomir/of the Nightsisters

NICKNAMES: (In order of popularity) Bella, Bel, Menace, Isola, Iso

ALIAS(ES): Allya (For some particular sneaky missions)

SEX: Female.

HEIGHT: 5′10

AGE: Depends she was born in 43 BBY

ZODIAC: Uh idk She’s a winter baby? Born on the darkest night on Dathomir (aka winterfest)

SPOKEN  LANGUAGES: Her first language is Dathomiri (Which shares some similarities to Zabraki but they’ve been separated for long enough it’s distinct now). She also speaks Basic and understands some Huttese (mostly just bc of jobs)

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 ――

HAIR COLOR: Black

EYE COLOR: Light blue

SKIN TONE: Light Ash (gray)

BODY TYPE: She’s lithe with broad shoulders. Her archery muscles are covered with a layer of fat (Imagine how a tiger in a zoo with free access to food gains weight, well when you’re not hunting to survive anymore it happens.)

VOICE.   .... Yelena from the MCU  

DOMINANT HAND: Ambidextrous but favors her right

POSTURE: Relaxed and confident

SCARS: She’s got a faded scar on her abdomen where she was almost gutted by a juvenile rancor as a child. In the SW5E vers she has lightning scars radiating from her two hearts down her right arm.

TATTOOS: uh yeah lol

PIERCINGS: She has quite a few in her ears but she also has her eyebrow and nipples pierced.

BIRTHMARKS: No but she’s had her tattoo’s long enough that they feel like birthmarks  

MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURES: She’s tall and intimidating with sharp features to match.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃 ――

PLACE OF BIRTH: Dathomir

HOMETOWN: The nightsister lair, specifically the temple

SIBLINGS: Her stepbrother Maul though he was gone by the time she was born so she didn’t know about him or grow up with him.

PARENTS: Her bio mother died in childbirth but she was adopted and raised by Mother Talzin. Like most nightsisters she did not know or have a relationship with her father.

A𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ――

OCCUPATION: I like to call it Star Wars assassin. Which means assassin but also spy, thief, and over all mischief maker. If you pay her enough she’ll probably do it.

CURRENT RESIDENCE(S): Her ship the Revenant

CLOSE FRIENDS: Her massiff Sammi and partner Zalo ( @beskar-himbo ), later Nadine ( @jedilovcd ), and in the SW5E verse Shamara ( @reawakcn and Vi ( @stubborn-amphibian )

FINANCIAL STATUS: She’s a bit of a hoarder when it comes to money only spending what's necessary most of the time even if she has it. (and trust me with the jobs she does she has it)

DRIVER’S LICENSE: lol you think she or her ship are registered?

CRIMINAL RECORD: Yeah she’s only gotten caught a few times but enough for her to have a record or Murder and Theft.

VICES: She likes to party (A hold over from the ragers the Nightsisters threw) Which means she’s no stranger to drinking and drugs. She also has a bad habit of smoking when she drinks.

𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ――

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

LIBIDO: She’s got a pretty high libido (lets just say it’s a good thing it gets split between partners)

TURN-OFFS: Buzzkills

LOVE LANGUAGE: Acts of service

RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES: Early in her life she was more of a one-night stand don’t get attached kind of person, that’s not to say she didn’t enjoy romance and dates she just was too scared of being vulnerable to be serious. Later on (once she got over all of that) she’s able to have multiple serious relationships (some at the same time) though she still retains some of that independence.

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒 ――

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG: Oh gods I can’t just pick one. W.I.T.C.H by Devon Cole and I don’t take insults lightly by Madds Buckley

HOBBIES TO PASS TIME: She keeps a collection of trophies (read severed and mummified heads) from her jobs. She also likes to read romance novels and take Sammi out for walks and play.

MENTAL ILLNESSES: Lol do mommy issues count. Seriously though PTSD from losing her entire clan and knowing it would happen yet being unable to stop it.

SELF-CONFIDENCE LEVEL: Despite her insecurities about not feeling like enough and feeling like she failed her sisters, she tends to put on a face of confidence for the outside world. She’s also known to sometimes over compensate those insecurities with arrogance.

Tagged by: @jedilovcd

[seyenna]

Philza and/or Techno and/or Ranboo fic recs

just some of my fav dsmp fics, mainly phil, techno or ranboo bc i’m biased but also a bunch of sbi and others

this one goes out mainly to zablr discord my beloved

pls tell me if the links don’t work

all of these are on ao3

rating\status(complete/ongoing)\warnings\word count\misc tags

ichor flows free amongst the iron by summer_rising

T\o\violence\13k\series\gods AU

Summary:

A gods and goddesses AU of the Dream SMP, dramatized for all our benefits.

First work:

  "Two gods meeting on a mountaintop overlooking the stormy sea? Very classy, Dream, I appreciate your taste."

  Dream didn't turn to look at him, but the faint shake of his shoulders let Techno know he had heard.

  "Scar's healing up nicely, I see," Techno mumbled with a light nod of his head.

  "Mhm. Cut nice and clean. Not that I expected any less from you, of course."

   ~~

   The god of power and the god of luck meet on a mountaintop to discuss Luck's standing in the ongoing political disaster.

We're Only Young by ImperialKatwala

G\o\-\66k\series\Dream & Technoblade

It's easy to forget amid the chaos and bloodshed how similar - and how young - Dream and Technoblade really are.

And when the sun comes up, you'll find a brand new god. by SkyboxZoo

M\o\violence\19k\gods AU

Summary:

The wounds from the fight had healed nigh instantly, but the golden blood still soaked Techno’s shirt. His cloak had gotten torn off and his hair had fallen out of its pony-tail. Ichor pooled in his boots. The man left a trail of golden, bloody footprints in his wake.

old gods (new gods) by WriterWinged

T\o\-\9k\series\gods AU

Summary of first work:

Survival, Blood, Madness. Philza, Technoblade, Wilbur Soot. Three gods who have never cared for mortal life, who play with them when they want to, who kill their toys just as easily. How, then, did a mortal end up in their hands?

This House Is A Fucking Nightmare by SilverWing15

T\c\-\17k\series\sbi

Summary:

AU Where Phil isn't quite as willing to stand by while his sons drop like flies

Summary of third part (my fav):

Does lingering too long in the shadow of a god make you a god? The voices in his head seem to think so.

His brothers know he's older than them but they don't know how much

OR: Technoblade doesn't think his brothers realize how different they are from ordinary men. After all, ordinary men may fight the gods, but they don't win.

It's been a long day. by BecausePlot

G\c\-\3k\Philza & Ranboo

Summary:

Sides are bad: he knows that much. He’s seen it tear people apart time and time again, so when he decided to separate himself from Tubbo and keep his distance, he knew he was in the right.

Well. He thought he was in the right, at the time. Sitting all by himself on the steps to the Prime Path, he’s not so sure anymore.

Yes, the sides might have torn the others apart, might have made them so weak that they have no choice but to fold under Dream’s hand, but at least they aren’t lonely.

So are sides bad?

‘I don’t know.’

~*~

Or, Ranboo looks out at the ruins of L'Manburg, feeling more lost and lonely than he ever has.

But, as he soon finds, he's not as alone as he thinks.

the voices in my head, they say a lot of things by rosyasteria

-\c\violence\1k\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

Some days the voices didn’t listen. They didn’t let up. They screamed instead of whispered, relentless, assaulting his ears until they bled.

tell them i was the warmest place you knew and you turned me cold by rosyasteria

-\c\-\2k\Techonblade-centric

Summary:        

Technoblade cared. But in the end it just fucked him over.

For the majority of his life, Techno felt like less of a companion, less of a family member, and more like a weapon to be wielded. 'The Blade' they called him; never 'friend'.

It Leaves Little Time for Anything Else by mirandible

M\c\-\1k\part of series\Dream & Technoblade

Summary:

   A young man aims for the top, but fate has other plans for him. So does Technoblade, apparently.

   (Or: answering the question of “Why does Techno hide his scars if they’re supposed to be some sort of trophy? Why keep your point of pride a secret?”)

the best requiem is a bar of silence (and I'll sing it, even if I must hold back my tears) by jello12451

T\o\-\10k\Philza & Technoblade

Summary:

   He can’t help the noise of celebration that escapes him. Techno- this means that Techno’s free, and he got his horse back, and everything is alright-

  Tubbo, filled with rage at Phil’s cheers, turns and impulsively shoots an arrow.

   He doesn’t expect to hit his target.

---

  Alternatively: What if Phil didn't have a bucket of water when Tubbo shot him?

Change fate by being aggressively kind by sircantus

T\o\-\13k\sbi, Philza-centric

Summary:

   “You do understand that you’re caring for the thing meant to bring destruction and chaos to our world, right?” The woman asks, Phil looking behind him fondly as Techno grabs at the ends of his wings.

   “He’s just a child.” Phil answers distractedly, humming as his wings get gently yanked at.

   “He’s the first of three to destroy life as we know it! Shouldn’t we, well, get rid of him?!”

   “Oh, no.” Phil raises his eyes with a sharp glare. “Believe me, I have my own way of preventing the apocalypse.”

   ---

   Or, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy are basically chaotic forces of nature, destined from birth to end the world and bring destruction. Most who hear of the tale of them are trying their best to track them down, and to end the monsters while they’re still young, still just children.

   Phil has a different plan.

   (In which Phil raises the minecraft equivalents of the anti-christ with love and support, so much so to the point where the world ending is really just a funny thought, and Phil has three kids who casually have powers that are bit more extreme than anything else in the world)

I promised you that everything would be fine by findingkairos

G\c\-\6k\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

   manifestation: (n.)

1.     an event, action, or object that clearly shows or embodies something abstract or theoretical;

2.     a version or incarnation of something or someone;

3.     an appearance of a ghost or spirit;

4.     the Blood God.

When he's young and still alone, still establishing his reputation as the immortal warrior, Technoblade makes up an imaginary friend.

Years later, the blood god is very real and very much a god: one that is prepared to do anything for their first and only friend.

the inner mechanism of a black box by Bee_4

T\c\violence, self-harm\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

   Technoblade lets himself get imprisoned for Philza’s sake. He doesn’t plan on being there long. Unfortunately, he’s underestimated Pandora’s Vault.

   There are things that will make even the Blade fall apart in due time, as it turns out.

carry all my sins by BananasofThorns

T\c\-\4k\Ranboo-centric

Summary:

Ranboo swallows. “All my armor and weapons and stuff are missing. Fundy and I were gonna go looking for them after the festival, I think.”

“I see.” Tubbo smiles again, but this time it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, it’s just a festival. We could probably find someone to lend you a sword or an axe or something.”

He starts towards the stage, waving at people when they call his name, and Ranboo follows. The original panic has dulled to a cold buzz in his chest, but apprehension still wraps itself around his body like chains. He doesn’t like being without his armor and tools; he feels too exposed, and if something happens, he’ll be helpless.

“Ranboo?” Tubbo calls, glancing back.

Ranboo shakes his head and hurries to catch up. “Yeah, it’ll be fine,” he repeats. “Everything’s gonna be fine."

Tubbo grins. “That’s the spirit.”

Rule 5: be loyal. L'manberg doesn't do well with supposed traitors. Ranboo deals with the consequences.

Sojourn by Lacy_Star

T\o\-\13k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

“Well…” Ranboo started slowly, “You see, uh… I kinda… don’t have a house anymore, obviously. Um… Phil found me in—“ He paused, cutting himself off and squinting at the floorboards— very discreet, “Phil… found me. And… um… He said I could stay by you guys. Like, um, by the dog house he wants to build?” He paused, then began to ramble, “But, uh, if you don’t want me here, I understand— and I’m sorry for coming in your house when you weren’t here, I swear I didn’t touch anything— it was just cold outside and—“

Techno just stared at him. And how, how was this the second time this had happened to him? How was this the second time he returned home after battle to discover an injured teenage boy waiting for him, seeking assistance with nowhere to go? And how badly had that ended last time, in nothing but betrayal and insults?

---

AKA: Phil drags a half-enderman home after Doomsday, and Techno decides that they can keep it. For now.

can an axe count as rent? by aboutfivebees

T\c\-\4k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

Ranboo’s struggling to settle into his new life on the Arctic Anarchist Commune, but at least he’s got bread.

or the struggles of an enderman hybrid to come up with a housewarming gift to give to his friends, who are just trying to adopt him

The Caged Bird Sings of Freedom by StarPrince_Punk

T\o\-\25k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

The Blade's stance was still tense, his body prepared to fight at a moment’s notice if need be. “What’s your name?” Phil asked “My… name?” The Blade asked. “Yeah. Your name isn’t actually The Blade, right? That’s like a stage name?” Phil tried to keep his tone light. “What’s your real name?” The Blade hesitated. “No one… No one’s called me by my name in a long time.” ------- When Phil comes across Ranboo in his panic room after L'Manberg's destruction, it reminds him of when he first met Technoblade. And just like when he met Techno, Phil's first instinct is that he has to help this kid. While living together, Techno and Ranboo learn that they're much more similar than they had previously thought, and Phil learns that it's not too late for him to be a better dad.

This already feels like more of a home by H3118ENDER

T\o\violence, death\18k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

As the ashes of L'Manberg settle the conflict continues to come to life setting the stage for a new wave of blood shed. Stuck slam in the middle of past and present friends Ranboo is coming to learn that even without nations to their names feelings and feuds don't die but people, people do.

A Shadow of a Shadow by unappetizingegg

T\c\-\4k\ Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

There were a few beats of silence, and then- “What are your plans, now? Do you need a place to stay?”

That caught him off guard. Surely he’d heard incorrectly. Phil was offering him a home, right after he’d orchestrated the destruction of his past one? It didn’t make any sense, none of it did. Why would Phil say that?

Then he remembered, he remembered Techno stopping him in the fight. He remembered being handed his book, the question in Techno’s gaze. He swore, in that moment, Technoblade, the Technoblade, had been worried about him. He remembered that he had been told to leave, to run, to get away and preserve himself. He had spared him, he remembered that Techno had spared him.

Techno had helped him. Phil had tried to protect him, to get him away from the danger.

They were there for him.

 ---

alternatively:

Ranboo is alone. But he really isn't.

Meritocracy by oddsbodkins

G\o\-\18k\Dream & Technoblade, sbi, medieval AU

Summary:

Dream is more successful than he'd ever imagined - but there's one thing that's been bothering him. Technoblade, his biggest rival, the Acolyte of the Blood God and King of the Arena, went missing last spring, just before Dream got the chance to duel him. Without that one achievement to pave his way, all the following victories have felt cheap.

So, Dream hired some goons to dig Technoblade up and pester him into coming back to the Capitol, for one last showdown. Easy enough, right?

Interlude I: "Promises to Keep" by Ozzyyy

T\c\-\1k\part of a series\Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

These woods are lovely, dark, and deep But I have promises to keep

And miles to go before I sleep And miles to go before I sleep.

--

Techno has a plan. It's crazy. It's insane, it's actually just batshit bonkers. But if chaos cannot be enjoyed together, then what's it worth, yeah? There's a certain beauty in watching the world burn from the center of the flames. Phil intends to be there.

I Don't Want To Start A Fight (wouldn't you rather start a riot?) by KryOnBlock

T\c\violence, death\15k\Technoblade & Philza & Ranboo

Summary:

An universal ping rang out from behind him, the third and final he knew, and Phil sobbed, clutching the body tighter.

Techno didn’t move.

It always has been Technoblade and Philza, Philza and Technoblade. Take on half, and you shall never go back.

Sheltered by Lulatic

G\c\-\6k\Ranboo & Technoblade

Summary:

It was cold outside. But Techno never heard Ranboo complain.

That was the best excuse he could muster to keep him out.

Antarctic Princes 'verse by BirchWrites

T\o\-\15k\series\sbi

Summary:

Loosely-connected one shots set in an AU where the Antarctic Empire and the Dream SMP are in the same world. Ordered chronologically, but each fic can be read as a standalone thing

Summary of first part:

Oh shit. Forget arrested; Dream’s going to have to tell Wilbur that he watched Tommy get stabbed for being terminally stupid.

May we cross paths again by QueenLunaFreed

G\c\-\1k\Dream & Technoblade

Summary:

“Even if tomorrow it’s just us versus the entire server, Dream, I’m telling you right now - I have confidence.”

---

Dream couldn’t comprehend the pacing contradiction in front of him, the weakness he could clearly see, but would never comment on. Because this man has been defying Dream's expectations since they first met, because despite them not being friends and having no reason to trust each other, Dream knew that Technoblade is the only person who he’d trust to do this right. To destroy L'Manberg alongside him yet again, this time for real.

leave me your starlight by findingkairos

T\o\-\18k\Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

For you the world, Phil.

Once upon a time, Philza Minecraft is the only person who does not shy away from the bloody teen that regularly turns the tide of war.

This cements a friendship that will last wars, empires, worlds, and lifetimes.

 ---

(Featuring: Back to Back Badasses, healthy relationships, accidental deification, intentional world domination, and Phil's past coming back to haunt his best friend.)

[lunar-lair]

ok say hello to my insanely new oc who ive made entirely to be a villain who is still an excellent adult and a decent parent, probably. cares too much abt kids. think reigen mob psycho with a drop or two of milla. worked under Nick From The Mailroom and was actually in on his scheme.

has always been rather cold and brash towards adults, but is more caring towards kids. in my brain he has a brooklyn type accent? rough and tumble, walks around without a tie, yknow? they keep him cause he sorts mail real good, though.

(added a read more because this got INSANELY LONG AKSKSK i spent like an hr on this h)

he was a delugeionist, but only because he kinda just wanted to rip the world apart a little; lysandre vibes, thinks a lot of it is scum and needs to go. thinks the *psychonauts* are scum and need to go. hes psychic but suppressed it, think aquato parents but extra toxic about it, and straight up just saying being psychic is unnatural. wouldnt go to loboto parent lengths tho. so he adopted that thought of 'being psychic is unnatural and wrong', which contributed to a lot of self hate that was never learned out. likely, he realizes hes a shitty person and thinks he needs to go too. so like...yknow hank, dbh? kinda the vibe im gettin right now. way more formal, of course, and while usually gruff, is more polite when its needed; can and *will* beat the shit out of you verbally in a factual way, though, and can talk more street-lingo if hes talkin to real thugs. (probably winged it on his own after failing college or smth, hes got the vibes.)

anyways, its this plot where he slinks off and starts planting mistrust in the psychonauts or something. and inevitably he just...shows up and starts kidnapping people. dismantling things from the inside and all that. he left and formed a group who also hated psychics at some point, likely friends of his parents and friends of friends, all from his hometown. all of them fight *insanely* dirty, and a lot of them are insanely vulgar. the kids are supposed to be kept away.

but theres a line to follow here.

this man is a fold to raz. hates the psychonauts, hates being psychic, adopted his parent's hate of psychics, hates the *world.* raz is young and unburdened and unjaded...mostly. hes not the shock of water some young characters can be when it comes to being the foils of other characters; think steven with a villain or something, right? but raz is sassy and a little jaded, and not total sunshine positivity.

hes a child this man could look down on and not be immediately annoyed by, who is worried by yet respects raz's realization of the world as it is, however little that is.

and yet raz is still his foil. he still mostly loves the psychonauts, despite it all, he loves being psychic, for the most part, he dodged adopting his parents previous values, he still seems to have an even view of the world as a whole.

raz is jaded, if only a little, but he moved past it and accepted that things could still be bright. this man is jaded, but he stayed in his stormclouds, never looked for the sun.

ok where. was i. RIGHT ok so. at the beginning of this...story? the man finds raz being talked down to by one of the office workers; someone with weak psychic powers whos insanely jealous of his prowess. an adult who envies the young prodigy. and theyre giving him some insane task to do, like cleaning all of the closets within the hour, but hes saved the world twice, so he smiles and nods along, because he said he would help around the motherlobe, and this adult is asking him to do something that seems simple enough.

and this guy, internally, goes 'bitch.' for a good long second bc 1. dude even if you envy a kid, kinda fucked to show that?? not their fault 2. WHY are you asking a 10 year old to do that. why is there a 10 year old here. holy shit thats a 10 year old oh my god hes so tiny (no one told him there was a 10 year old because they knew hed stomp right up to management but. regardless. he is going to stomp up to management after this and no one can really stop him. except maybe raz well see)

so yknow. dude fixes his slight slouch and walks forward and politely tells this woman that 1. hes 10 why are you jealous of him and 2. hes 10????????? and shes like shit hes 10. and apologizes. and walks away

and raz is VERY ?? bc she was doing what? why is him being 10 important? and its that young part of you that gets pissed when people try to keep you from doing things because youre young and hes DEFINITELY yet to learn that piling responsibilites that should be handled by adults onto a child is fucked up in its own special way (looking at you ford, *nick*)

and the dude calmly explains because yea. he gets that. and he still sounds gruff and a little peeved but he squats down to razs height and he talks simply and factually, telling him straight on why it isnt right.

and. huh. people dont really do that for raz. except for sasha, sometimes, everyone likes to dodge the truth a lot with him, because hes 10, and sometimes, hes too nice to tug it out of them.

and this guy, this man that raz is already polishing a trophy for 'good adulting' in the back of his brain with his striking statements about how adults should handle things and kids should-kids should...get to have fun. not be traumatized.

for the shock on his face when raz said hed already saved the world a couple times, whats some closets. he reigned it in, said that its weird he saved the world, because thats usually their jobs.

and this guy offers his hand on instict before he stands up, even though he doesnt seem very sweet and kind like the adults that usually offer raz a hand. and he takes it, i think. he takes it.

warm. warm, a little nice.

reminds raz of his dad, maybe. he wonders if this man has any kids himself, but keeps his mouth shut, because he thinks he already has the answer, and its yes.

(he doesnt have any. he would wish he did, but he knows hed fail to raise them right.)

and when he stands, he asks raz what he was asking that woman for, and he says hes doing tasks around the motherlobe because his papers are still coming in. the man doesnt ask. (he knows what 'papers' means, realizes this is the tiny junior psychonaut every room in the damn place has been buzzing about, and he has fucking words for forsythe.) he just offers for the kid to sort mail under his supervision.

and that sounds boring. at least, it usually would.

this man is interesting, and a good...person? a good adult? hes...hes new. hes new, and calm, and a little like sasha but a lot not, and he thinks he trusts him.

so raz grins and says yea, mail sorting sounds nice.

(debatably, raz does not take his hand. hes too jaded when it comes to adults. debatably, he does not feel any warmth from this man who has taught him every adult has been telling him wrong. debatably, im projecting. but thats the whole point of ocs, hm?)

and then holes crop up in motherlobe systems. people are kidnapped.

raz keeps seeing the strange man, keeps telling him things, keeps hearing back, gruff and factual and a little annoyed, but raz can almost-just-barely tell its not at him, with the way he talks.

he can tell. he can tell.

he can never tell. this man is making sure he can tell.

raz trusts the man, is still polishing that trophy for 'best adulting' he has settling in the back of his mind.

and then the man comes with a militia.

he did not seem jaded. he did not seem hateful. he never showed any anger or hate towards raz.

but thats because he knows kids dont deserve it.

an excellent moral or two. a rotten, broken heart.

and at first, they keep the kids away, because these people fight dirty, because this isnt their battle, because the man has been sending emails about why 15 year olds are in a secret psychic agency.

(he does not mention raz. by razs second visit, he had just marked the boy down as another reason to hate the psychonauts as a whole, and especially its higher ups.

hes also regretting his alliance to nick by about the third. if he had known the man would puppet a child as if they were a toy, he would have organized his own rebellion ages ago.)

but eventually, the psychonauts need all hands on deck.

they send the children to find the missing agents.

the interns are fought on the way. some of them avoid the child, know the boss would pummel them.

they get to the base, and the strange man, the one with the broken trophy for 'best adult' (still barely-polished, because hes still so sure) still nestled in the back of razs brain, is still there.

the junior psychonauts are spotted. one of the guards throws a few rocks aimlessly.

they surprise them. one almost hits raz.

its intercepted instead.

and the other junior psychonauts watch as this man, their enemy, a villain, in their eyes, reprimands the other man for even accidentally daring, for even trying. for doing something they might have done just a month or so ago, if they had decided he was too much weirder than they already had.

and he yells something like, "Why the hell is he even here?! This is an enemy base, of whats a rebellion! This is a *10 year old*! What kind of adult sends a child *near* something like that?!" and he truly sounds angry this time, raz finds. hes too angry to keep it in. he still sounds gruff and oddly proper. raz is standing there, arms hanging. hes baffled in a specific way, the way he was every time the man's brow furrowed when he mentioned a harrowing story, the way he was the first day they met.

and he asks, a little quiet, a little small, a reminder of how young he really is, "Why are you still trying to keep me safe? We're supposed to be enemies now."

And his brow furrows further before flattening out, and he tilts onto one leg, and he swears he almost kneels to a knee.

He cant believe it. He really cant.

"You're 10." he says simply, softly, that factual way. "You shouldn't even be here."

and raz pauses. the interns freeze.

"...well, here I am."

and i think...it would be so intriguing if this was done halfway out of the mind, because this man is so against anything psychic. it would be so *compelling.*

so raz steps forward and asks again, asks why hes doing this.

and the mans eyes harden, he tries to turn off that soft heart, trying to remind himself of all that he hates. because he hates the psychonauts, because he sort of hates the world.

and raz asks why he could ever hate the psychonauts, head tilted, before listing off the few he knows to be true. but other than that, how? and ok, the world sucks a little, yea, hes seen that, gets that.

and he appreciates that this kid isnt totally gung ho about existence.

but he hates that he isnt, too.

and its this back and forth. everything the man hates, why he hates it. raz saying why its good but admitting why its bad.

and hes swayed, just a little.

but the man stands up from the kneel hed inevitably instinctively put himself into, and walks forward, hand held out yet again.

"You shouldn't be in the Psychonauts," he tells him, soft, factual, brow furrowed. "Come with me. I'll bring you back to your parents, or wherever it is you want to go."

raz contemplates. thinks, for a long moment.

he grabs the mans hand, warm and firm, yet again, for a terrifying moment.

before he reaches up to slap a mental door on his forehead, and astral projects into it.

he thinks this man is good. thinks hes just jaded.

thinks hes the best adult hes ever met, one who just happens to hate a lot of things.

hes only 10.

hes not letting someone who can tell him so clearly whats wrong and right for adults to tell him go that easily.

aaaand yknow. raz does his razzy thing. learns about why the guy hates the world and the psychonauts and himself. helps him learn that its not all bad, that he was excellent to raz, and still is, that things can be bad and good all at once.

the man concedes that raz is very capable, very smart, and can do a lot. but that doesnt mean he should have to.

raz tells him, though, that he likes working for the psychonauts. its his dream. and he realizes some things he was told to do were kinda screwed up, now. that maybe, in honesty, he was dealt a bad hand.

but hes done what he can with that hand, and he ended up with a royal flush.

and uh! yknow!! then raz leaves his mind and he calls off the rebellion! its like a rhombus of ruin type adventure, except without the villain being present beforehand. its just not clustered in insanely close with a ton of other wild shit.

anyways this got really long? sorry?? its an oc i just saw good adult and slight father vibe potential in the vibe i instantly got on him and then i went feral???? rip maybe someone will read this and if you did. congrats i honestly really liked how the whole foil and good-yet-bad and consideration of raz being 10 thing worked out. this oc is almost like our representative in the psychonauts world the way reigen is for the audience in mp100. yea :) i match them up a lot but thats just cause they vibe a lot. anyways its 1:40 am now and i spent abt an hour on this hope it vibed mildly byeeee

[ragegrove]

but I wanna know all the replies to the Childhood Asks 🥺

you asked for all  of them so you shall receive all of them bc you got bestie privileges. ( haha true, but since i got a few asks curious about billy's childhood-- i decided to do them all on one post )

*   𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌  𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃  ���𝐒𝐊𝐒.    /   status:  always  accepting  memes  

@flayedprincss . . .

what were they like as a child? the  polar  opposite  to  what  he  is  now. summer  was  creeping  in  and  school  was  about  to  break  loose,  that  meant  more  time  spent  at  the  beach  and  more  time  to  do  all  those  fun  things  his  mother  promised  they’d  do  while  they  were  chatting  down  the  boardwalk  and  billy  was  talking  his  mother’s  ear  off  like  pure  usual  when  it  was  just  the  two  of  them.  things  always  fell  silent  at  home,  he  never  spoke  much  at  all  when  neil  was  in  the  house.  he  was  becoming  too  old  to  hold  his  mother’s  hand--  almost  going  for  seven  this  coming  november.  but  he  was  used  to  it  and  he  had  an  attachment  to  his  mother,  it  might’ve  been  an  only  child  thing.  or  maybe  it  was  just  a  thing  he  wasn’t  ready  to  grow  out  of  yet.  he  loved  it  when  there  were  too  many  people  around  and  his  mother’s  sweet  voice  would  say,  ‘hold  my  hand  billy’,  like  that  evening  walking  down  the  boardwalk.  he’d  smile  and  fingers  would  cling  to  her  hand,  then  right  as  they  were  entering  the  seashell  shop  an  elderly  man  was  stepping  up  on  one  of  the  steps  before  he  tripped  and  fell.  billy’s  jaw  dropped  and  concern  filled  his  blue  eyes,  “look,  mom.  shouldn’t we  help  him?”  he  quickly  questioned,  he’s  going  to  spring  into  action  regardless.  “of  course  we  should,  billy.”  he  hurries  and  takes  the  old  man’s  hand,  using  all  the  strength  he  has  in  his  arms  to  help  him  up  then  with  the  aid  of  his  mother  taking  his  other  hand  they  get  him  up  just  fine  and  unscathed.  “are  you  okay?”  small voice,  that’s still  so  concerned  about  him questions the elder.  “i’m  okay  thanks  to  you...”  smiling,  he  looks  so  impressed  and  surprised,  “what  a  sweet  young  boy  you  are.  you’ll  grow  up  to  be  a  fine  young  man  one  day.”  it  leaves  billy  grinning,  happy  and  feeling  good  he  helped  someone  and  got  complimented  like  that.  that  day  he  hoped  he  would  grow  up  to  be  as  awesome  as  that  man  said  he  would  be.  ….ten  years  went  by  and  he  wasn’t  that  same  boy  anymore. the disaster he had become since that spring day.

what was their childhood like? did they have a good one or a bad one? torturous.  always waiting  for  the  next  blow  up  between  his  parents,  when  he  could  only  hide  between  the  trashcan  and  kitchen  counter  for  so  long  before  he  had  to  come  running  to  save  his  mother  from  his  father’s  wrath.  he  always  knew  when  it’d  happen,  too.  at  six  years  old  billy  would  listen  for  the  change  in  his  father’s  voice,  it’d  raise  to  a  certain  notch,  his  heart  would  leap  out  of  his  chest  and  then  he’d  come  charging  with  fear  pounding at his rib cage but  the  need  to  save  his  mother  from  being  hurt  overpowered  that.  there  were...SOME  days  that  could  go  good.  when  neil  had  to  stay  out  at  work  later,  it could  just  be  him  and  his  mom  at  home.  he’d  sit  on  her  lap  while  she’d  band-aid  his  knees,  she’d  baby  him  and  he  loved  every  second  of  it.  he’d  say  the  kids  at  school  pushed  him  down  but  in  truth,  he  caused  his  scraped  knees  himself.  for  attention.  other  good  days  were  either  surfing  with  his  mom  or  her  showing  him  things  on  her  car--  underneath  the  hood  where  the  interesting  stuff  was.  she’d  show  him  the  basic  things  and  he’d  ask  a  million  questions.  or  when  she’d  make  them  simple  sandwiches  but it felt like a grand dinner because  they’d  make  a  blanket  palette  in  the  floor,  spread  out  crayons  and  markers  and  color  in  coloring  books  with  scooby doo or designs  of  cars.  “that  one,  mom.  that  one  is  going  to  be  mine  and  i’ll  share  it  with  you.  i’ll  let  you  ride  my  car.”  he  giggled,  pointing  at  the  one called a Chevy ‘CAMARO’,  he  was  coloring  it blue  outside  the  lines.  “okay,  billy.  you  buy  us  that  one  and  i’ll  be  the  happiest  girl  in  the  world  to  ride  a  car  like  that  one!”  that’s  what  he  loved  about  his  mother,  she  encouraged  him.  he  felt  like  he  could  do  anything  and  that  one  day  his  dreams  really  would  come  true  of  having  the  coolest  car  in  the  world--  this  camaro.

where did they go to school? were they a good student? what was their favorite class?  he  went  to  school  in  california  all  of  his  life  until  half  way  into  high  school.  he  was  a  good  student  all  up  until  his  family  split  up  and  then  he  started  developing  issues  on  trying  to  concentrate.  he  went  from  a  timid,  sweet  little  kid  who  did  his  work  and  never  gave  any  teacher  trouble  to  acting  out  and  failing  everything  on  purpose.  detention  started  becoming  a  normal  thing  by  junior  high  every  friday,  blowing  off  homework,  talking  back  to  teachers  and  getting  in  fights  with  kids  who  picked  on  him  or  kids  he  just  didn’t  like— whenever it suited Billy’s sudden mood swings best.

what kind of hairstyle did they have?  his  hair  was  much  shorter,  he  didn’t  grow  it  out  until  the  end  of  junior  high, when all the long haired rock n roll bands emerged to the music scene and he wanted to look like that too.  it  was  way  more  blond  than  it  is  now,  a  bunch  of  sunshine  colored  curls  piled  cutely  on  top  of  his  head.

what did their childhood bedroom look like?  it  was  painted  blue  with  orange  curtains,  orange  was  trending  in  the  70s.  he  had  a  blue  and  orange  quilt  with  basketballs  and  teddy  bear  faces  across  the  pattern  from  age  3-7.  carpet  was  brown  and  he  had  shelves  next  to  the  bed  that  had  his  basketball  trophies  on,  stuffed  animals,  (his  favorite  teddy  bear  stayed  stuffed  under  his  orange  pillow  so  his  dad  couldn’t  destroy  that  one  in  case  he  ever  wanted  to  take  his  anger  out  on  his  special  things),  his  seashell  collection.  then  in  a  wooden  bench  that  sat  at  the  foot  of  his  bed,  he  had  basketballs  and  tons of toy  cars  piled  in  it.

did they have a favorite toy? why? what was it? do they still have it?  the  teddy  bear  his  mom  gave  him  when  he  was  a  baby,  he  just  formed  an  attachment  with  the  thing  like  he’s  always  done  with  things  he  really  loves.  he  thinks  he  doesn’t  have  it  but  it’s  actually  stuffed  in  one  of  the  boxes  he  hasn’t  unpacked  since  moving  from  california.  he  thought  his  dad  finally  found  it  and  threw  it  out,  but  it’s  been  stored  away  in  an  old  shoe  box  this  whole  time.

what was their favorite fairytale?  he  didn’t  like  fairytales,  he  liked  books  about  cars. (of course, lol.)  anything  to  do  with  cars  he  was  interested.

are there many photos of them or not?  they're  scarce.

did they have friends? how many? who were they? are they still in contact with them?  he  couldn’t  keep  friends  because  he  became  super  hostile  about  people  around the 5th grade. then in high school, he just automatically became popular for being the cutest guy in school and a really good basketball star. still, he had no real friends-- only people he'd consider as friends wasn't his fellow jocks but his fellow rock n rollers. anybody he could jam to rock music with, was his closest thing to a friend. but  there  was  one  girl  he  had  a  crush  on  in  9th  grade  who  he  considered  someone  he  was  relaxed  with.  that  was  fleeting,  however.

what kind of tv shows were they watching in their childhood? what was their favorite one?  from  3-6  he  loved  sesame  street,  then  when  he  was  getting  older  and  into  bigger  kid  cartoons  he  enjoyed  the  pink  panther,  tom  and  jerry,  flinstones,  scooby  doo.

what were their hobbies? do they still have any of them?  cars,  basketball,  surfing.  all  things  he  still  loves  to  do.

what was their favorite game?  tag  and  truth  or  dare.

was there any kind of food they hated? why? has it changed later in life?  cheeseburgers  or  pizza  with  toppings,  now  he  likes  both  with  plenty  of  toppings.  he  hated  broccoli   and   peas  and  still  hates   those.   he   never   has   preferred  pancakes,  he   likes  waffles  way  better.

did they have a crush on someone in their childhood?  there’s  been  a  few  girls,  but  it  was  a  dark  haired  girl  in  9th  grade  he  was  really  after.  it  didn’t  work  out  but  in the end he  found  better  qualities  in  a  girl  similar to  her  once  he  moved  to  hawkins--  heather  holloway.

[goldafterglow]

embellished lungs

Summary: Ezra buys a pretty thing for a pretty thing.

Request: hc about what renders Ezra speechless 😶 - @lose-eels (this is not even what you asked for but fuckin here ig im sorry sgkfjdshg)

Pairing: Ezra x reader

Word Count: 2.6k+

Warnings: a big fat drabble?, very really soft, not beta read and tbh barely even normal read i read this maybe twice oops

Author’s Note: i almost put this just like under the ask but I’m not gonna sit here and act like this is a drabble bc i’m a clown. i don’t want to talk about it. and spitting this out bc I was soft for Ezra and @mrpascals made me

Gif Cred: my wife and my baby @pascalplease

masterlist | taglist modifications

He spies it in the open market while he’s stocking up on supplies.

The day is hot, the Sun bearing down on its disciples with a violent red fury, but it’s light is strong, bright. Everything is reflective, hot to the touch from boiling in the heat, and all of the creatures begin to melt together like dyed wax to form one big discernable blob, if you really squint. Ezra’s sweat escapes the barrier of his brows and leaks past his lashes, dragging across his eyes and stinging a little, blurring his vision and dripping onto his arms, but he doesn’t care. He’s far too exhilarated.

The market in itself is absolutely brilliant to him; he’s always been enthralled by this, by people and pretty things, and to be completely surrounded by both felt like something akin to sensory overload. His heart is racing at the sight of people traversing the dirt road, loitering and browsing through produce colored so vibrantly he wonders if the bright red apples and deep indigo berries have been dipped in the tinted glow of fairies that dance in the forest. And he’s utterly taken by the art and trinkets. He’s always had a little soft spot for art - a tender, exposed section of his beating flesh that is so sensitive, so delicate and so easy to provoke. And right now, he seems like he’s subject to a battering ram, pounding against his chest in the best way possible.

His eyes dart around quickly as he tries his best to take everything in. He finds himself cherishing every little interaction, every stranger whose shoulder he is forced to brush in an attempt to make his way through the market, every vendor that begs to him, calls to him to try “just one last berry sir. I’m sure your lover will be delighted by the raspberries from yesterday’s harvest.” He ended up buying a quaint six ounces just so that he could feed them to you. But that would be a treat for later.

And just like that, he is thinking of you. The prettiest, most beautiful thing. A sculpture with imperfections so perfect that he knows it must have taken eons to craft you out of gold and diamonds and the soft fluff of hummingbird feathers and butterfly wings. You are art, a walking, breathing, touchable piece that he gets to admire up close. It’s a privilege, really, to have been gifted with Kevva’s finest handiwork.

As his pupils peruse the stands, admiring his surroundings, they suddenly become frozen in place, permanently stuck on a little trinket that’s caught his attention: a necklace. The gem sitting in the center isn’t aurelac; it’s much more vibrant, much more dramatic and almost rainbow when he looks at it from different angles. The chain isn’t long, and knowing you the gem would fall right between your collarbones. He can already envision you wearing it, like a child flicking watercolors onto the Venus de Milo, but he wants to see his deep green paint draped around your shoulders. The way he sees it when you wear his clothing, when you’re adorned with bruises of his passion like stars adorn the sky, when you wear him. It’s intoxicating, seeing that he’s had any impact on your life and that you parade it around like a trophy. That you think about him without him prompting you to do so - not that he isn’t constantly in your presence. But he wants to buy it just so that he can see you wear it. Perhaps even only wear it.

He’s already thinking about how fucking gorgeous you would look in it. He is thinking about putting it on you, tugging on it ever so lightly in a way that signals to you - that is, rather than exerting any true force on you - that he wants a kiss. Perhaps pulling on it a little harder so that metal bites your skin and you can feel it, feel him digging into the soft flesh of your neck. Now he’s imagined a thousand scenarios in which he can have his way with you just by getting you to wear this piece, and he has to purchase it.

When the vendor finally hands it to him, packaged with care and placed deep into the hollow of a black velvet box, he finds that it barely fits in his pocket. He doesn’t care, though, because it’s too exquisite an accessory to be thrown in with the other supplies and it’s too precious for him to take it out of the box. He’s excited when he comes back to the pod, back home where you are.

Home is you.

He assumes you must’ve heard him come in, the pod door loud and rambunctious as he dumps the bags into the center of the pod space and then crawls in himself - it was hard enough with two arms, nonetheless one. He lets out a sight as if to let the excitement drain out his vessels and into the atmosphere of the cockpit, mingling with the peace and solitude to create a soft buzz that zings through his ears and vibrates his eyes. The exhilaration from being the market was utterly electric, but he is home now. He can crawl into you, let you absorb into him, and he likes how you can make his heart race a million miles and yet also pacify him, a cold compress to his aching soul to help reduce inflammation. He wants to maintain that semblance of the intricate pastel harmony, adorned in lilac and peach hues. So he stands in the middle of the cockpit and closes his eyes, lets himself sway to the rhythm of his lungs for a moment. Just a fraction of solitude, and he doesn’t mind because ever since he met you he has never felt lonely, not even when he’s alone. He always feels you with him.

Once his head has cleared, he palms at his pocket where the little black box still resides, as if to check that he hadn’t dreamt up some fantasy ornament that would look so perfect on you. It’s still there; of course it is, and he feels foolish for thinking that the pretty butterflies would have fluttered it out and flown it away, but sometimes he wonders if the same thing will ever happen to you. If one morning he will wake up and you will have migrated with the birdies, off to seek true warmth because you’re not real, because nothing so good as you could ever be caged by him.

He steps into your shared bedroom and spies you with your back to the entrance. The room is cool, but you’ve elected to wear his shirt, even foregoing pants. His favorite outfit of yours, and he knows you know it. You’re wearing headphones, something he’d picked up for you on your last supply run, and he can tell you’re playing one of those instrumental stations you so adore listening to when you were working. A mutely-colored map is stretched out onto the desk, and he’s not even sure you can focus the music because your mind is moving faster than your poor hand can keep up as you mark up a new dig site. He almost feels bad for interrupting you while you’re in such deep concentration, your forehead smashed into wrinkles without even noticing, but Ezra cannot resist his greed for your attention. Ever so gently, he places his hand on your shoulder from behind so as not to startle you.

You almost immediately register the delicate touch, turning the radio off and pulling your headphones off your ears so you can give this kind artist your undivided attention - Kevva herself knows he's earned it. You turn your head to face him, craning your neck back so you can take his softly smiling depiction like pressing a plush blanket into your face.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you coo, letting your pen fall tumultuously from your hand. The sound of it clanging against the table and then rolling around to a stop fills the room, but you can’t hear it; Ezra is talking now.

“Hey, sweet stardust,” he greets back, voice orange and warm like the heat that simmers under the stars during the summer at midnight.

Comfortable.

 “Hey” was never his preferred salutation, and he’d tried to omit it from his vocabulary for so long, but he started to notice that he likes it when you say to him. Like a little pearl of your voice, so sweet like honey with the honeycomb still mixed in, a little grainy and so cheeky.

“Did you get everything we need?” you ask, beginning to stand to that you can press a hand to his chest, grounding him to the pod and to your sanctuary soul. Ezra grins wide, unable to hide his excitement at your words.

“I in fact exceeded our needs, sweet rose bud,” he says with a pride that fills up your chest and makes you want to hold him tight because you love when he gets giddy like this, with the childlike enthusiasm of showing your parents the shitty drawing you made or your ugly macaroni art. Ezra is light, his tone airy. “I happened to spot a gem that reminded me of your vision and I couldn’t resist the urge to get it.”

You brow furrows a little, not out of confusion but out of curiosity. Ezra’s taste has always inspired you, and you knew his never ending quest for art is always in an attempt to find beauty in everything. You don’t even have to look at it to know that it will be stunning because his stamp of “pretty” approval is your gold standard.

He pulls the box out and opens it facing you so that you can get a good look, really admire it, and you are already taken by the shimmering pendant.

“Oh Ezra, it's - it’s utterly magnificent,” you gush, and he can spot that little glimmer in your eyes that you get when you’re looking at something that you’re enamored with; they way you look when you’re gazing at him. You raise your chin to look at him, his cheeks rosy with delight and sweet eyes crinkled at the corners. “Put it on me.”

It’s not so much of a demand as it is a gentle instruction; you know he wants to, know he’s been thinking about it since he bought it, and you want to be open to him. You want to invite him into your heart, inside of the flower garden of your chest, with open arms because he deserves to feel wanted.

You help him pull the chain out of the bottom of the box, keeping one end in your right hand and letting him take the clasp in his left. He wills himself to move slowly, to savor every little stimulation you send through his skin as he steps behind you. His fingers press against your clavicle, tracing along the bone before traveling up over the valley of your shoulder, tips of his hands brushing against your throat. He is feeling you, mapping out your body because he’ll never get to see an angel in his life but he’s certain you must be the spitting image.

You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and intoxicating as a small film of dampness coats your exposed back and neck. Your right hand rests at the nape of your neck, waiting expectantly, but you don’t rush him. He takes his sweet, sugary time, because the surface of your skin feels like he’s running his fingers through a field of silicone needles, firm but harmless as they stimulate a sensation he never knew he could feel before he touched you for the first time. You’re addictive, the best high he’s ever gotten, and he almost lets his hand lose all abandon and travel so carefully down the front of your body, palming your breast along the way and pressing right into your diaphragm before he keeps going down, down, down…

Almost.

But he will save it for a later time, especially since he’d been fantasizing about you wearing the necklace like a carefully chiseled bust is adorned with sashes. So finally, after what feels like hours of roaming and teasing, you feel that calloused, worn sensation of your lover’s fingers seeking solace against yours. You pin your breath to your lungs, not daring to let it go as you wait for the heavy release of his hand indicating that the necklace is secure. But even once you feel it, even as you let your right hand fall down at your side, Ezra does not take his hand off of you. You don’t want him to.

Slowly, so that he never has to cease his touch, you turn to face him. You’re still looking down at the pendant, in awe of how the gem rests so perfectly between your collarbones. You can’t see Ezra’s adoring gaze, his completely awestruck fixation on how ethereal you are to him. Like you’re emitting a golden glow, too hot to touch and yet begging, inviting his fingers to feel and press and hold. 

Celestial.

He feels his emotions expand in his stomach, diaphragm threatening to spasm. His hand trails up to your chin, palming your jaw as he tenderly lifts your line of sight so that he can see your pretty eyes.

“You’re divine,” he mumbles to you, not wanting to disrupt the tight silence, so tense he’s afraid of speaking too loud lest it break and snap against his cheek leaving an angry raised brand.

Overwhelmed with appreciation, you balance your hands on his shoulders and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, letting it linger so you can savor the honeysuckle dew on his skin. “I love it,” you whisper with a grin.

Ezra giggles.

When you pull back to face him proper, his face is utterly red. His smile reaches the lobes of his ears, bashful and boyish like his belly has just been tickled by the sweetest of baby chicks, and he can barely get a word out. He can’t speak. His mind is in overdrive, completely inundated with a blistering adoration for you and your approval because you said you loved it. His gift is not a splash of children’s watercolors; it is a clean swipe of gold running along your jaw, accenting your beauty and emphasizing just how exquisite you are to him.

“Yeah?” he managed, a soft giggle still passing his lips like the first cries of a baby deer, the first flutters of a newly hatched butterfly.

Adorable.

You can’t resist the urge to giggle back, placing a hand at the nape of his neck and pulling him in for a true kiss on his glittery lips. It only lasts seconds, however, because Ezra can’t stop smiling and you can’t stop giggling, so you both settle for the blissful solitude of pressing your foreheads against one another, breathing in each other's air and taking up the same space.

“It’s gorgeous, Ezra. Thank you,” you whisper lightly so that the wisps of air tickle his upper lip, and suddenly he is so inclined as to press his left arm into the small of your back so that you’re so much closer and kiss you the way you deserve; a dynamic series of long, deep, searing kisses that send you to the clouds and drop you into an endless pit of lavish fluff at the same time. You don’t know how he does this, makes you feel like you don’t exist and that there isn’t anything in the world but you and him, and you often wonder if it’s because Ezra is within you, or that your broken parts and his broken parts make some hauntingly majestic sculpture of its own; something better than the fucking Venus de Milo or Athena or Great Sphinx because it should be something so hideous and yet it feels to utterly priceless to you.

It’s precious.

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[halfpint55]

A Defence of Kataang with regards to how they are portrayed in TLoK (it’s long but there’s headcanons at the end)

Note: This is not about shipping wars. This is a safe zone. This is not about Zutara vs Kataang. This is me defending Kataang and the characters themselves...from the writers. 

I initially wrote this as a response to a post that got me heated. My reblog just made it too long so here it is as its own post. 

Now this post ripped apart Kataang as a couple but more than that said some stuff about Aang himself that hurt my heart. I didn’t really want to pick on this post but its condemning of Kataang was based almost entirely in what we know of them as parents in TLoK and honestly it’s that lil nugget of canon that I take issue with. It has bothered me from the get go because it doesn’t make sense from a writing and story perspective, and it’s been pissing me off since I watched it.

TL;DR nice and early bc this post is gonna be a long one:

This particular condemnation of Kataang rests almost entirely on the SHITTY way they were portrayed as parents by the writers of LoK, and in all honesty, on this particular topic, canon should be ignored.

Overall Kataang parenting is of my biggest gripes with LoK because in terms of writing it’s totally incongruous - it doesn’t fit, it doesn’t align, and it makes zero sense for what we know of those characters, and I don’t know if I can ever forgive the showrunners for allowing it to be written it into canon.

I will also preface this by saying I like LoK - love it. I had a scroll through the comments and reblogs on this post, and a lot of the hate towards this portrayal of Kataang ended up being blamed on the “terrible writing of LoK” which is not where I stand at all. That being said I am so angry at the writers for this one.

The other portion of the concurring comments that were very hateful towards Kataang came from Zutara shippers and honestly for me, although I do ship Kataang, this not a just a Kataang issue. I’m of the belief that Zutara would’ve just as easily been written to have similar issues due to very similar dynamics - Zutara also would have been two powerful benders from very different cultures, and with Zuko/Aang (whoever you ship w her) having a massively important global leadership role that is embedded in who they are, and therefore impossible to ignore as a factor in their relationship.

Now let me be clear, my desire to reject canon on this front is by no means me wanting to believe the best of my faves, and not wanting to hear a word against Aang. It’s not even necessarily a defence of Kataang bc I ship it that hard (I mean I do but I can set that aside for the sake of argument if that’s what you need from me here). 

The first, and main issue people have with Aang/Kataang in Korra, is the first point of the original post:

So why in hell would [Katara] be okay with Aang ignoring TWO of their children’s complete existence once he found out they had an airbending son?

And I agree with the post on this front; Katara would not have allowed her children to each be treated differently by their father. I had the same initial thought when watching LoK, and it’s the reason I hate and want to ignore the canon of LoK so badly. 

As much as it hurts to think of, we have to accept that Aang wouldn’t have been able to stop his preferential treatment for Tenzin from bleeding through into his parenting just out of a desperate desire to save his culture (which is absolutely understandable - doesn’t make it okay, but it’s understandable; Aang suffered an incredible loss, a massive cultural trauma which he alone carries the burden of). So of course he wasn’t able to hide how excited he was, and forgot to be mindful of his attitude and behaviour towards Kya and Bumi. So this aspect of canon Kataang? Yeah, I’m with it. So far so good. EXCEPT the most unrealistic element of canon is now that Katara would let him. I simply do not believe for a second that Katara would’ve allowed Aang to be the kind of parent LoK painted him to be.

However, I do not think it would’ve been a point of contention between the two of them! Katara would pull him aside, Katara would gently (but firmly) point out what Aang mightn’t be able to see for himself - he’s focusing too hard on Tenzin.

And Aang would listen.

All throughout A;tLA the two of them often help the other sort through their stuff. Aang has a great track record of being receptive to Katara’s advice and help (calming him down when discovering Monk Gyatso’s body, The Desert when he Appa is stolen, Serpent’s Pass when he’s bottling his feelings about Appa being missing). He’s also just so receptive to others’ ideas - he just goes with it and trusts in his friends (think of his trust in Katara’s plan to rescue Haru, his trust in staying behind with Sokka in the library to get the eclipse info). Aang’s humility is one of the most incredible things about him and it’s at the core of who he is. He would absolutely be able to hear Katara telling him he’s focusing too hard on one child - he would be open, and he’d listen.

So to me now canon just does not make sense at all. it does not align with their established character traits. And yes, people change as they get older and grow into adulthood but honestly, the elements of their respective personalities that we’re talking about here are pretty core elements of who these two people are.

Katara has always been fiercely protective of those she loves, strongwilled, stubborn, and ready to (vocally or physically) fight for what she believes is right and that wouldn’t disappear as she gets older. She wouldn’t let Aang’s preferrential treatment slide.

Aang has always been, and chose to be despite his loss, an optimistic, kind, believe in the best of humanity kind of person. He’s open to all points of view, he’s a good listener, he always tries his absolute best to find solutions that are good for everyone. And again his humility, his willingness to love, is who he is.  He believes all humans (including fkn OZAI) and all life are sacred, he believes in the absolute right to life. The kid is a vegetarian for crying out loud.

Now the parts of the take in the post that hurt my heart to read about what OP thinks of Aang:

“Aang never made an attempt to establish anything resembling a real familial unit with Katara, basically just stayed around until she popped out an Airbender [...] she was treated like some trophy wife to give birth to airbenders and that’s it!”

I wasn’t going to address this in this post until I read the comments in the notes, because people seem to agree. They share the sentiment that Katara was reduced to “just a love interest” by the two ending up together.

However I do very much take issue w the notion that Aang “basically just stayed around until she popped out an Airbender” (and honestly that entire paragraph - we don’t actually know that Aang didn’t make an effort to establish a family unit). As much as the LoK writers fucked up in their portrayal of Kataang as parents, this is a much harsher judgement of Aang’s character as a husband and father than anything implied by Aang and Katara’s children. I just don’t buy that Aang would view Katara (or anyone he married, even if you don’t ship Kataang) as a trophy wife, whose only role is to have airbender children. He never has viewed her that way - he has always looked at her like she’s the sun, and the most important person to him after she pulled him out of the iceburg. He loves her the most of anyone on the planet. It does not align with his character, his values or beliefs that he’d think of her (or any partner) that way. He is so besotted with Katara for who she is it HURT me to read that part of your take. Aang simply would never. Look at how he looks at her! 

What’s more is the unwavering respect and deference he shows Katara as his waterbending master - he recognises and loves her as the whole, complete, three dimensional, TALENTED POWERFUL INCREDIBLE WOMAN that she is. She is NEVER “just” a love interest for Aang. (But ALSO, do we respect Suki any less for being Sokka’s obvious love interest??? No. suki is written to be so badass that Sokka is HER love interest and I think Katara has equally badass energy but I digress).

Moving on!

OP made an excellent point that there would’ve been culturally different values between the two but I don’t think it would’ve been family that was the clashing point. Yes the airbenders value spirituality and enlightenment. But they lived together in massive communities! They supported and raised one another. Their community and culture was strong, and they were bonded in their spirituality! They value love, as well as enlightenment, peace, and the lives of all.

Now, again the points they made about the cultural divides within the Kataang family unit are valid, but also again I dislike how they chose to portray this in LoK. It would definitely be a struggle they faced as a couple. However I think they really missed an opportunity here with where they took it. Because they do at one point in the comics have Katara bring up the fact that their family will be a blend of two cultures, and she brings it up because Aang is trying so hard to bring balance back to the world by means of seperation.

They’ve known from the get go of being a couple that they’re going to have to navigate being a culturally blended family unit.

So I find it so shitty that they wrote it so that Kya got to learn the waterbending culture, Tenzin got Air and bumi got…nothing? It’s dangerously close to the way Disney does the “the girls are carbon copies of mum, and the boys are carbon copies of dad” thing (think Lady and the Tramp). It’s lazy. Especially when we had that “separation is an illusion” episode, AND things like Zuko learning different nation’s styles and applying them to his firebending, and Sokka learning an element of strategy or fighting from every nation. 

So give us Kya using Airbending moves with her waterbending (maybe she invents the water scooter)! Give us Tenzin doing more grounded moves that Aunty Toph (or Lin, while they were together) taught him from earthbending.

There are much more creative ways to illustrate the bumps and troubles Kataang might have run into in trying to navigate incorporating equal parts of their cultures in their children and family unit. Even just smaller scale issues like food and meals - how do they figure out how to do mealstimes with Aang’s vegetarianism with Katara’s culturally significant Water Tribe meat dishes? And then even taking into account how picky little kids can be!

Give me a scene where they literally just ate moon pies for a week because toddler Kya would scream if you put anything else down in front of her.

Maybe Bumi demanded sea prunes over and over but Katara and Bumi are the only ones who like them, and Bumi bonds with his mother this way - they go on little one-on-one outings to water tribe restaurants in Republic City, searching for the most authentic sea prunes!

Kya maybe likes the water tribe fashions the most because it helps her connect with her namesake BUT Kya also has a playful sense of humour - not unlike Monk Gyatso - Aang sees how much she loved moon pies and teaches her to throw them with waterbending.

We know Tenzin was a calm, quiet, and possibly shy child. Maybe he loved to hole himself away learning crafts. Give me Tenzin learning to tattoo, Tenzin learning to carve (and carving his first glider - it crashes of course), but also Tenzin learning to carve water tribe adornments and necklaces. Katara tries at first but when she gets busy Sokka comes in and teaches Tenzin to break all the carving rules Katara has laid down (”it doesn’t need to be perfect my little pupil - let the creativity flow!”)

Tenzin may not be able to waterbend but that doesn’t mean he can’t learn other means of healing. As the littlest he spent a lot of time watching Katara work - she teaches him to tie splints, dress wounds, and yes deliver babies.

If you made it here I love you so much for reading. I love sharing my thoughts so HIGH FIVE YOU MADE IT, ur now my friend - the friendship is non-refundable sorry 😌😌

[halfrest]

* emilija baranac, demi woman + she/her  | you know siobhan ivers, right? they’re twenty-three, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, a couple days? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to manta rays chloe moriondo like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole tears lit under grocery store fluorescents, existing in your mind as a hollowed space, and manicured hands riddled in pen marks thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is september 27th, so they’re a libra, which is unsurprising, all things considered. 

pinterest.

background wise, she’s the daughter of former child actors that fell in love and had her quite young. then they grew into early-2000s reality tv star fame where they played the part of the young hip cool parents, toting siobhan around in the midst of drama amongst other washed-out former child stars. the show only lasted for a few years, but it made up most of siobhan’s toddler life. from then on, her parents got involved in different facets of media. her mom jumped on family vlogs, kept up a huge social media presence as instagram and the sort rolled around. her dad got involved in a company like buzzfeed as a producer? it might as well just be actual buzzfeed? sue me. but anyway, they had money and a pretty great lifestyle just based on their past fame, but i wouldn’t say their family is notoriously famous by any means. there’s probably a small fanbase from their heyday and now they’re basically a Family of the Internet. moms that like to wear knee high suede boots are obsessed with them!

siobhan grew up in this sort of flashy, always on the move, los angeles socialite-esque lifestyle tho! so yes, she’s insufferable! that being said after her time in the limelight as a 3 year-old baby...she was probably forced into the usual things like gap baby campaigns <3 n other miscellaneous stuff that kept her face out there as the lovechild of america’s sweethearts <3 in a way every single aspect of her life was sort of on show for everyone!

as she grew older, she began to resent her upbringing. she didn’t like that people felt like they knew her just bc of her parents. she didn’t like that she was a sort of trophy on display (altho this is quite a dramatic way of her to look at it...her parents were doting altho i’ll also admit that at times it was an extremely suffocating amount). but either way siobhan ended up with a warped view of the world. a constant struggle between figuring out who she really was vs. how people viewed her.

siobhan’s tried on many hats (metaphorically) thru her life just to help her grasp onto something more substantial in her life. writing quickly became her One True Love. in a way it was for her to get her thoughts out there in a safe way where she was the only one in charge of her words. it’s admittedly gotten out of hand! like aaron eckhart once said in a batman movie “u either die a hero or u live long enough to see urself become the villain.” i’m kidding but going back to siobhan’s warped view of the world/social media... in a move she thought was So Powerful she decided to take the narrative back into her own hands. and by that, she meant building up a substantial social media following. she has two twitters and two instagrams. one twitter and instagram is her public self curated n all under the username @siobhanivers (saved by her parents immediately). the second is sort of her sad girl twitter/finsta where she tries 2 keep things secretive and on the DL but everyone knows it’s her? the username for that is @yrworstgirl (edgy!!!!!!!). she goes on long rants about stuff. posts ab everything w long-winded captions ( parallels to having her own life all over the internet but still continuing the trend in a different way ). very weird relationship with social media as a whole. but i guess the way she was raised On The Internet does that to u sometimes.

as a person...siobhan’s quite intense.....for a lot of reasons. she has a lot of feelings about a lot of things that are expressed in different ways, not all the healthiest but it’s to cope. <3 figuring herself out is still an issue so u can catch her slipping into different selves and starting new regimens which she may drop or continue with. the stuff she’s doing this week is probably drastically different from the stuff she’s doing last week.....she likes to consider herself cultured n is always listening, reading, watching something Grand (i can’t relate so i can’t rp this out?). has good intentions despite all of the intensity. always willing to speak up for someone if she thinks they r being wronged in some way. big on social justice. very loud! likes to b social. has a problem where she can get fixated on a person for a bit but wants to be loved :pensive: but also doesn’t :pensive: no she does....does she? yes she does.

anxiety / she does have problems w anxiety and occasional panic attacks just from the pressure she puts on herself n just always being under scrutiny. sometimes she has it handled. sometimes she doesn’t. leaves it vague x / end tw

she’s into journalism n thats what she went to college for. this is real writing unlike her dad’s buzzfeed gig. spits. pretentious fuck. she has her own blog on top of things where she writes articles n sometimes she’s been able to get into magazines. she’s trying to develop her own small online publication but that’s pending. she likes to write about people in her life, her feelings, n she’s very candid about things to an extreme at times. she has a series where she writes about her sexcapades? no names mention but u know who it’s about, she knows who it’s about. it can b good or bad. it’s just a lot. probably involved in the school paper to an extent. probably involved in other stuff too.

at irving for A Lot of reasons. she’s writing a book. i won’t say anymore. bt also….she has to deal with some ghosts of her pasts (ambiguous). she lives at a beach house w cecilia n [insert anna muse].

[okaybutlikeimagine]

really weird hc but i think steve never cries, like it’s not that he doesn’t want to he just can’t??? he’s filled with emotions and he knows he technically should be crying but he just can’t. But billy on the other hand, if you asked him he’d deny it but he cries all. the. time. when he’s angry. when he’s sad. when he’s stressed. when he’s happy and laughing. he just can’t control it.

This is such an interesting headcanon and I DEFINITELY agree!!!! I think it makes perfect sense!!

Bc the way I think about it, Steve’s life has been a lot more performative than Billy’s has, if that makes any sense? Like, I think of Steve’s parents and I think of the kind of terrible people who had a kid just to 1. Pass down the name and 2. Say they have the “perfect family”. Like, they toted Steve out for parties just like Daisy does in Great Gatsby and then they’d hand him off to the sitter or the nanny or the maid or whatever. They didn’t actually want to raise a kid and understand that kid as a person, they wanted a trophy to say: “See this? This proves our relationship is strong and our marriage was worth it.”

And then, in the background, before Steve would be dragged off to whatever private function he was being forced and dressed to attend, his mom would grab him harshly and tightly around his little shoulders and kneel down to look him right in the eye and say: “You behave yourself, understand? There are going to be very important clients there and if you bother us while we’re working, you’re going to be grounded for a whole week. No, two. No toys, TV, nothing. You hear me?” And just imagine a little Steve, about age 5, blinking owlishly at his mom and nodding his head bc of course he can hear her, she’s right in his face, but the only thing he knows about “clients” is that they make his parents yell at each other and that they’re the reason his parents never read him bedtime stories or tuck him in at night

 And I really don’t know a whole lot about like… the lives of the rich and famous, but I just can’t help but imagine Steve’s parents going to parties with the other “elite” in the area. And I use the term “elite” loosely bc i mean… let’s face it…. They still live in Hawkins. They’re definitely rich but it’s not like they’re rubbing elbows with high society over here. They’re the kind of rich, snobby, stuck up people who think they’re better than the people they share a community with. It’s the reason they’re not home very often: they hate being reminded about the fact that they haven’t moved out of Hawkins.

So they go to lots of rich, stuck up parties. And they hold Steve up like a trophy to their friends about how they have a kid already and “where’s yours, Patricia? Oh, don’t have one yet? Are things alright with you and Greg? Oh, just wondering, because if you don’t have a kid yet, well…. Maybe something’s wrong at home…”

and so Steve, with fresh threats swimming in his mind, stands there and smiles and takes all the cheek pinches and head pats even though he’s only a child and is about to fall asleep on his feet because they’ve been walking around meeting people for hours and the other kids won’t play with him because they think he’s “boring” or “stupid” or “poor” (which doesn’t make sense to him bc he’s the richest kid in his preschool as far as he’s aware. He figures the preschools must be different here.) so he puts on a mask even for the other kids. He pretends he doesn’t like playing in the mud or collecting bugs or making jokes about boogers. He puts aside acting like a kid to act like these kids just so he can play with them. Sometimes it works.

And so I think he learned not to cry at a very young age. Honestly, i dunno if you’ve heard about it, but I’m channeling The Who’s Tommy over here. Like, the whole “kid is threatened not to speak about this thing, that he didn’t see this thing, and that he didn’t hear this thing and thus goes deaf, blind, and mute”. And obviously a little less dramatic than that, but Steve’s always been told not to cry. When he would cry he’d get punished. It’s like a weird Pavlovian effect. Ever since he was a kid he was asked to put on a show for everyone, told not to pout or whine or cry, and now he just…. Can’t. He almost fears it. He hears his parents threats, even now at the age of 18, and smiles and laughs rather than cries. And sometimes he cries… that night that Nancy called him bullshit and told him she didn’t love him he went home and ripped a blanket she had (apparently lovelessly) gifted him and broke his lamp and accidentally sliced his foot on the glass of the lightbulb…. and cried and… and it felt like failure. It was only a couple of tears, hot and angry and rolling slowly down his face and he let his throat catch fire as he held everything else back. He was angry with himself at that point, more than anything. He looked himself in the mirror and heard his father’s words of “A Harrington never cries. Are you a true Harrington?” and sucked it all back in and did whatever he could to take his mind off of it, even though everything he did always ended with him fuming about the words over and over again and caused him to end up punching pillows and angrily drinking all the beer out of the fridge.

But Billy’s different.

Billy is a volcano. A volcano of every single emotion you can think of. He experiences them all violently and viciously and they take over his system until his body physically can’t hold back from crying. We SEE him cry multiple times in the show!!! And i like to think it’s bc rather than be toted around, he’s been locked in. where Steve’s parents drag Steve around to different social functions, Neil locks Billy up so he- and no one else -has to look at him. Steve is forced to be around others and put on a mask and Billy is forced to be alone, with just himself and his thoughts. He doesn’t need to mask himself when he’s alone.

And that’s not to say that Billy doesn’t also put on a show for others- because he most definitely does. I think a lot of what he does is performative bc he feels he needs to and his thought process for it lines up with Steve’s for himself: he’s just not good enough. He wasn’t good enough for his mom to stay, he wasn’t good enough for his dad to love in his mother’s absence, he wasn’t and isn’t good enough for anything. So he puts on a show of this big tough guy and he manipulates people and he calls it entertainment.

And this isn’t to say that he didn’t get yelled at for crying, either! Bc he definitely did. He’s gotten hit a few times for tears in his eyes but it was always followed with being locked in his room and being told that he was “embarrassing to watch”... and in the four walls of his room he cried more. Bc growing up, the one thing he found relief in was being sent to his room or even having his room in the first place: it gave him a space to be alone and let his emotions out. And he never tried to, his body always just did it for him. Bc crying is often a very visceral thing, and also a very natural and very human thing. It releases chemicals in your body to help soothe you and lord KNOWS Billy needs to soothe himself bc once his mom left, no one did it for him. His body realizes the emotions that aren’t being sorted and his mind knows when it’s safe (when he’s alone, when Neil’s turned and walking away, when no one can hear) and it cries. I just imagine Billy on constant vibrate, brimming with emotions and filled to the edge with too many things with everything with all of it and he just cries because there’s so few outlets for him. His body has grown accustomed to taking care of itself in that way. And so when he’s had too much (and the threshold on some days if very small), he rushes to his room and slams the door and as soon as it’s latched he’s near drowning in tears bc he needs release.

And let me tell you- it freaks the fuck out of Steve.

Because like you said, Steve just doesn’t cry. And the first time Billy and Steve have sex, Billy cries as he orgasms and Steve freaks. out. He thinks he did something wrong and he’s fretting over Billy and his heart is racing and he’s fighting with himself about if he should hold Billy’s face or step about 5 feet away from him because holy shit what happened??

And Billy feels like an idiot but there’s no stopping his body because he’s so overwhelmed by feeling so good and it’s been a long time coming for him and Steve and after all of that anger and animosity between each other, it was just too much and he cries. And he punches Steve while he’s crying, trying his best to growl but hiccuping around the words instead as he says: “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m so sorry Billy, holy shit! What do I do?!” 

“Go get me a tissue, you dumbass!”

And he’s sniffling and blows his nose loud and Steve is in awe that Billy is still such a hardass even with tears running down his eyes.

And this happens a LOT. Every time Billy and Steve have sex, Billy tears up after he orgasms. It’s not always full on waterworks like the first time, but his eyes always water as he lays there with Steve, body lit up and hot like a fucking campfire, and he lays there and breathes and a tear rolls down his cheek and Steve has gotten so used to it that he leans over Billy and kisses the tear right at his cheekbone and whispers how beautiful he is. (and that usually makes Billy tear up even more, to which he shoves Steve with whatever strength he has left and tells him to shut his mouth)

The first time they tell each other “I love you” it’s the same thing. Billy whispers “I love you, too” and there go his tears. His chest heaves and he cries into Steve’s collarbone, gripping Steve’s shirt and Steve just kind of chuckles a bit and rubs Billy’s back and maybe cracks a joke about how he’s “such a sap” and Billy tilts his head so he can bite at Steve’s shoulder and make the boy yelp.

And the first time Billy catches Steve about to cry, he sees that the boy is about to run away. Bc he’s taken notice to the fact that Steve doesn’t cry and he hasn’t brought it up more than twice bc Steve is obviously anxious when he talks about it but Billy gets worried for him bc Steve always acts like he’s okay and Billy knows that’s not good. So when he catches Steve’s eyes watering and then Steve turning to lock himself away somewhere, he grabs the boy in the most forceful hug he can manage so that he can’t squirm away and hide himself and he says: “Don’t run away from me. Are you gonna cry?”

“Billy-”

“Then do it. You’re not a robot.”

“Billy stop I-”

“You’re human, you fucking dumbass.”

“Don’t call me-”

“It’s okay.”

And that makes Steve’s chest heave. He sucks so much air in he squeaks and his chest pushes against Billy’s own and Billy grabs tighter and nuzzles his head into Steve’s neck and whispers.

“You’re safe, Pretty Boy.”

And he stands there and he lets Steve cry. Lets himself be whatever physical and mental support Steve needs as he finally, finally let’s his body take over and just cries.

[secret-engima]

I'm trying to sleep but I cant bc if this this idea in my idea do here have it and fo eith it as you will; Nyx reborn into the KHR universe.

Pure. Unadulterated. Chaos.

Because if you think this boy is gonna be anything but the world’s most reckless and powerful Inverted Stormy Sun you’ve got another think coming.

Probably becomes like- a message runner/thief. Something high speed and dangerous that isn’t straight up murder-land. Despite this, he quickly gains something of his own famiglia from all the strays he keeps picking up along the way. Famiglia of info-brokers, thieves, and other sneaky mouthy folk. It’s great. He calls them the Kingsglaive out of nostalgia and everyone wears an Ulric braid.

Has 100% mouthed off to Xanxus and gotten away with it.

Misses his warping like crazy. It’s not fair. He gets sparkly fire powers and they AREN’T the ones that can teleport. Boo.

Still he gets to make stuff disintegrate and he has almost limitless energy so hah.

Finds Tsunayoshi when Tsuna is newly sealed and Smol and Sad and just Nopes his way into that situation because this is Wrong and he’s Reckless so here’s to kidnapping Tsuna and his mom and carting them off somewhere private to get those seals off (because in this universe Nana also has a seal on her that makes her so ditzy and air headed since she’s a Latent Sky who would otherwise know better than to touch Iemitsu with a thousand foot pole, but Iemitsu is all the levels of Jerk in this and wanted That Specific Pretty Lady as a mindless trophy wife so...)

Anyway Nyx yoinks the seals off with a combo of stubborn stupidity and stupidly strong Flames and Tsuna and Nana are more than a little confused and grateful. Nyx explains the Mafia thing and Nana goes Active from pure rage over being ... well ... married to the guy who robbed her of almost all intelligence and free will and then tried to do the same thing TO HER SON.

Nyx is more than happy to get them new identities and take them to Mafia Land where even Vongola can’t touch them without setting off a war and helping Nana set up the world’s best cafe on the island to support herself and her son without Iemitsu. He also gets divorce papers via his Network, all without Iemitsu’s knowing (dude really needs to pay more attention to what paperwork he’s signing).

Also Nana (now named Hestia) becomes Nyx’s Sky. And his much needed Momming Figure because he doesn’t have a Lib to Braincell him (yet). Tsuna (now named Regis because Nyx is a Sap) adores his reckless big brother.

Of course, two skies living on Mafia Land is gonna attract ALL the attention (minus Iemitsu who is an Idiot and doesn’t even register the possibility that these two are his wife and child because those are TOTALLY still back in Japan being a nice trophy family TOTALLY). It isn’t long before people are coming to the cafe for both the good food and a chance to Court either Sky in hopes of getting a harmony. Of course to Court either, they have to get past Nyx and Nyx’s info network first which is a grueling gauntlet of terror and mind-screwing because 90% of Nyx’s info network/friends are all Mists who keeping trying and failing to Braincell this reckless reborn Ulric.

One day an Inverted Cloud shows up at Hestia’s cafe, takes one (1) look at Nyx, who is on forced vacation with his arm in a sling, and starts reaming him out. People kinda side-eye the Cloud, expecting blood to fly, but instead Nyx bursts into tears of joy because IT’S LIB. LIB IS HERE. Wait that means you died DANG IT LIB YOU PROMISED.

Lib: I DIED AT AGE EIGHTY WITH GREAT-GRANDKIDS. TIMELINE IS JUST SCREWED UP HERE. YOU’RE THE ONE WHO DIED YOUNG AND DUMB AND HAVING LIED TO ME. YOU DON’T GET TO LECTURE ME ON ANYTHING.

Nyx: I HAD TO PROTECT YOU AND LUNA.

Lib: NOT BY GETTING USED AS A CANDLE BY THE GHOSTS OF SOME OLD DUDES IN A RING YOU DIDN’T.

Random Vongola agent who happens to be in earshot and knows the legend of the Vongola Rings: ????????????

Anyway eventually more formerly dead glaives show up and wind up being Nana/Hestia’s Elements and Tsuna/Regis grows up thoroughly Galahdian and self-confident and HUGELY POWERFUL as a Sky because HAH take that Vongola. Also somehow the entire mafia world, proving their SPARKLING non-intelligence, never realizes that Tsuna is like- a vongola.

Because he totally doesn’t look like a mini ghost of Primo or anything NO SIR (rolls eyes).

Also Tsuna/Regis somehow still picks up all his canon elements. 

Gokudera when they snap bond after running into each other on Mafia Land. 

Takeshi on a visit to japan with Nyx where Tsuna/Regis talks Takeshi out of jumping off a bridge and also maybe running away to be mafia with him rather than hang out with the bullies on his baseball team. 

Kyoka and Ryohei after Nyx accidentally rescues them from a child trafficking ring (blowing up the trafficking ring in the process VERY intentionally thank you).

Hibari because the little maniac FOLLOWED NYX HOME after picking a fight with him during one of his deliveries to someone in Namimori (Regis took great offense to this kid attacking HIS big brother and Threw Hands in true Galahdian fashion, Hibari was an Awe of this Smol deceptively fluffy and cute carnivore). Lambo just kinda ... shows up one day and never leaves (Nyx suspects his family intentionally “lost” him in Mafia Land while on vacation and makes a mental note to have his info network raise hell for the Bovino because HOW DARE).

However, his FIRST Elements are Mukuro and his gang. Because Nyx may or may not have busted into the lab by accident while looking to steal something else entirely and then gone on a Rampage through the facility, rescuing kids as he went. The moment Regis laid eyes on the shell-shocked, skinny, traumatized Mukuro and co, he ran over and pumped them full of Sky Flames to make them feel better and BOOM snap bond.

Libertus and the others work hard to keep Mukuro on an even keel. While also telling the Vindice to shove it when they come sniffing around because YOU CAN’T BUST US FOR BREAKING THE NO-FIGHTING LAW WHEN YOU WERE IGNORING THIS. The Vindice, surprisingly, accept this argument and buzz off.

Mukuro wandered off and came home with Chrome one day when he was twelve. No one knows how. No one knows why. But there is no way you are convincing Nyx or anyone else in Hestia’s Elements that Chrome isn’t Mukuro’s long lost twin and thus THEIRS.

Also Chrome does not have organ damage in this so yay.

Nyx takes one (1) look at Reborn when the cursed baby comes sniffing around Hestia’s cafe in curiosity of the Uber Powerful Skies, sees Reborn smack Regis with Leon Mallet, and promptly Throws Hands.

Reborn was Not Prepared for this Stormy Sun to be able to steamroll him with the vast and unorthodox experience of being a Glaive who tackles Flames with the understanding of Magic That Can Do Pretty Much What I Want Barring Some Things rather than the Mafia’s religiously conditioned rules of Flames Do This and Are Like This And Only This and then kick him off the nearest peer.

Colonello, who has already been taught to Fear The Reincarnated Feral Glaives, just sits there and laughs at Reborn’s confusion at finally meeting a Sun even more powerful and stubborn than him.

Also at some point Nyx straight up steals Xanxus because the Varia hired him to and then just .... never gives him back. Melts him free, sure, but the kid is CLEARLY unstable and in need of mental help and Vongola sure isn’t going to give it to him so Nyx just kinda ... sics Hestia on Xanxus and when the Varia come thundering in thinking Nyx had broken his contract they find Xanxus sitting there with a befuddled but surprisingly un-angry expression, holding a cup of tea rather than alcohol and with Hestia putting his favorite steak down for him.

Also Regis is sitting in Xanxus’s lap radiating so much Sky Flames that Xanxus can’t really ... think straight enough to be mad about much. Because seriously if Tsuna/Regis could defeat a trained assassin when he was a noob middle school kid while his Flames were SEALED then you better believe that when unsealed and raised in a loving, nurturing environment he can Therapy Jutsu anyone through the sheer power of his Flame aura.

Except Iemitsu.

Iemitsu gets shanked at some point.

Nobody will say by who.

But Libertus looks very, very Smug (he is a Cloud and Hestia and Regis are part of his Territory. What did you expect to happen. The only difference between Lib and Hibari is Lib is an Inverted and so is better at the Stealthy Route).

[snow-wind-and-all-we-will-find]

Hi! My names arthur and im working on improving my word and building my story, which currently has no name haha! I have a myriad of characters who ill try to list out and give brief descriptions of, aether is technically my main character and some of the characters who are up for question are dead in canon. But you can still ask them stuff, itll just be set before death.

When asking characters questions, rememeber to include the name, their age if theres diffrent ages, i dont mind repeated questions, but if you see the question try not to ask it again lol. If you cant find it with a quick scroll just ask it, although i dont know if this blog will even get that big.

Aether

He comes in three evolutions lol, technically, theres four but idk if i would count 7 year old aether.

Ages: 13 yo - colder, hasnt gotten used to emotions, there are two to this as well, pre-rev and then post-rev 13 yo aether, remember to specify lol.

16 yo- a bit more out there, still kinda disconnected and figuring things out, a bit more defensive

22 yo- lax, hes sorta figured shit out, hes not going to go grazy, hes just gonna be chill lol.

!The gaggle Ghosts!

Yurei

Her personality is very, ehhh, becuase i havnt done work with her, and i havnt completly figured out who she is fully yet, shes 18 yo when aether is 22 yo

18 yo- pretty oblivious, somehow still a bit cynical, very nice and sometimes motherly

Kakoku

Few thousand- mean, likes to bully yurei as he huants her, lowkey a simp for yurei but he wont admit that. Kinda cynical and likes to bring others down, generally a bully

Tamashi

19- emotionless, has to be a really strong emotion to make her emote, tends to stray away from other people, likes to be alone, blunt

Gunnar

A few thousand- sweet, warm and welcoming, tries to be very fatherly and a trusted figure, is very busy most of the tiime unfortunatly though.

!The greek gang!

Argus agapov

16- unstable, pretty baby, protective over friends and family

Mythos agapov

23- whore. He also loves his family, lowkey, hes a trad wife

Perceus

15/16- timid, intrested in posiosn and acids, generally quiet, likes to eat leaves, scaredy cat

Diogenes

14- germ of phobe, kind of a brat, more just a bitch, will yell at you if he sees your hands were dirty from gardening or something while you’re walking to the sink, other than that hes fine, picky eater

Herodotus

15- disorginized, trys his best, likes to write stuff down, helps plato with his writing and grammar in general, gullible, likes record data, has a nice typewriter with tha good clicky clack

Plato

8- sweet baby boi, loves his older brother (socrates), idolizes him even, not a good idea though. He writes down everything socrates does, sometimes he imitates his brother as well.

Socrates

17- dumb of ass, also just dumb, held back a grade, feral child, bites alot of people, soft aestechic but hed stab as a warning

Heracles

30- also dumb of ass, loves cars in that ‘mah babeh’ kinda way. Hates motorcycles, he thinks they’re ugly. Chaotic but he utilizes it to be the weird and cool uncle/cousin thing

Zeus

46- too tired for this shit, is a dad, went out to get milk, jk jk, dissapeared for a hot few years, probably got captured by some gang dunno, it happens. Very serious, would make the dumbest jokes with his brothers with a straight face

Hades

50- lowkey the neglected middle child, soft goth lookin ass, loves his kid, tries his best to raise his kid, sometimes gets help from esme

Poseidon

57- proud stay at home dad, buff but does the typically wifely duties, makes sure his children get enough love, nutrience and care

Lillith

54- very active, the money maker, kinda soft, both her and her husband poseidon are so just in love with their kids, dote on them constantly, very extroverted, always makes time for her kids

Esme

51- tired of zeus’ shit, does her best to make sure no one dies, still treats mythos as her ‘little baby boy, tired mom vibes.

!the Eden gang!

Eden is a fictional country that i slapped onto the globe. It is where aether is from, technically aether is apart of the eden gang as well. Everyone here, if they have an age option, the first age option is the age they are when aether is 13, and the second will be when aether is 16 unless stated otherwise

General kyelli

49- fatherly, thinks of most of the gang as his children, calls everyone ‘son’, as a general rule. If you ask for another nickname, he will do his best. Has a bad knee, and is kinda of bad at existing physically

52+- fatherly still, loves almonds, always has a bag of almonds, dont test him. Enjoys travel, might adopt people he meets along the way, still has pains but now he sees doctors, wants to stay active

Indigo

13- sweet, optimistic, always looks on the brightside and tries to see the good in others. Little heater, understands that sometimes fighting is the only option

Akrano

16- lively, very loose and relax, can get serious when needed though, always making jokes and trying to lighten up the mood

19- a bit more, mellow. Still quite lively and childish, but with two signifigant-others you have to settle down sometimes

Ekrano

16- lively, more stern than akrano and kinda worried, but ultimatly also very loose and bright

Lilliana

16- serious, seemingly colder towards everyone, gets along great with psycho-lops, makes him new eye-patches to pass time, actually just very monotone and blank most of the time, although she does care

19- she doesnt change much, she got a bit more expressive, likes babysitting howl

Psycho-lops

16 1/2- always looks determined, actually kinda scared of conflict, likes to help out with healing though, very proficient in it as well, sounds intimidating while talking about how cute puppies and kittens are

19/20- still the same, is considering studying medicine and medical practices to become a doctor.

Bark

17- bright, incredibly lively, loves to joke around and tease and sometimes bully the others, targets aether primarily, hangs out with his brother most of the time, he can fight for himself but he likes the backup, especcially since he is kinda glass-jawed, being that hes a twig

Bite

17- quiet, intense eyes, always sounds vaugly confused when he speaks, deep voice lol, likes to train, doesnt understand barks need to tease others, likes to read to the children

20- quiet, intense eyes still, more so nervous sounding, slightly paranoid, cluastrophobic and cant stand dusty places, usually in his house or at the docks, doesnt really go anywhere else

Hanelle

17- loud, headstrong, adamant about her opinions, gets along well with bark, she tries alot to be intimidating, not a twig, but not very big, pretty friendly and sociable

!the band of pirates!

Aklea

A few hundreds of years- kinda bored seeming, loves blood, technically cannibal, but not really since he isnt human, to an extent. Despite being fine on the ocean, he gets very car sick very easily. Actually quite nice, very easily triggerd into violence, especcially by something that could be used as a good murder weapon, blood makes him jittery and more lively

Nerone

21- calm, too calm, deals with akleas bullshit wonerfully, he just stands there, blank smile on his face as aklea beats the shit outta someone, unintrested in most anything, likes to draw, but hes a much better pastry chef.

!the shakespears!

Midem(pink boi)

33- lively, loves to work with kids, very creative, likes to make things, mainly art, mainly carvings. Often make little minitures of scenes from midens writing, loves his twin, does anything it takes to fund midens intrests. Very loving to those hes close to

Miden

33- calmer by alot lmao, pretty introverted but he can hold a long conversation without becoming too drained, enjoys writing and making stories, also makes plays for fun, runs off little sleep cuase he stays up so late to write, and gets up early to write.

!gods!

Gideon

9 billion- confused boomer, loves his ‘children’, hates to be hated, always tries to help in anyway he can, despite making them, always curious into what mortals are doing, loves the universe he created and does anything he can to protect it

Merik

7 million- sore loser, does get a little salty, ultimatly bounces back and becomes a very good sport, always will adopt tactics, whatever it takes to win within the rules, keeps most all of his trophies from random feats hes done

Ventus

5 billion - calm, straightforward, tends to disregard others and do things himself, likes to sit on cliffs and watch the ocean

Kyle

Hes been around since 776 bc- very loud, lively, bright, tries his best to educate people on proper form, workout regime i intesne, doesnt allow others to take it, makes custom workout regimes for free, owns a gym, dude bro but hes nice, baby

Horo-sha

Her age technicaly is not accurate, shes like, 2 billion? Since dima was made right after her death. But since her history still lives, ima count it

5 billion but older than ventus- bitter, violent, former god of justice, fucking dead haha, hates mortals, primarily humans

Dima

Also not super accurate, hed only be a few centuries of being an active god before being sealed, but since hes technically, concious and has cognitive function hes counted

3 billion- mean lol, likes blood and gets even more violent when it starts getting messy, ‘new’ god of justice, uh, pretty bad at it like the last one, but worse, will kill over slight misdeameanors, everythings a crime smh

!misc!

Ivan

24- softspoken, from imperial russia, died young, he no longer feels his face is his own, has a mask that he likes better, has the sickness, but since he was human it killed him, can control it post mortem, is strong enough to be seen, but weak enough he can go invisible and go through solid objects.

More ocs will be added when i remember them, or create new ones, characters i dont really have built at all are not included

[jungxk]

Hello I consider you my south asian big sister on tumblr and I think you’re also British? I am just a typical Indian girl in uk living with my very conservative immigrant parents who moved here nearly 2 decades ago. They are very strict in terms of where I go and what I do outside but they don’t really care about anything else I can do whatever I want at home and I never felt much pressure from them in terms of comparing me to other kids but I did have some indirect academic pressure. Anyways, my parents are strict but also not strict and now I’m moving away to uni, it seems they have a million worries in their head. I am only less than an hour’s train ride away and they’re still scared. I am quite naïve I won’t lie and I am inexperienced with being independent because my parents always coddled me and were very overprotective of me. I guess I don’t have much trust in myself because of that. I do feel anxious about moving away but my main anxiety comes from this dichotomy I am faced with. I have 2 options: 1. Be a good child and not drink or go to nightclubs and stuff 2. Try it out and see how it goes. My mum just recited a monologue on how our family is different from the ones here and that we don’t fit into the culture here. Most of my family is in India and they’re even more conservative and strict especially towards women. My parents themselves practically never go out and don’t have many close friends because they feel like outcasts due to their lack of habits in drinking or just this toxic gossiping culture in the south asian community. It’s hard to come across good people that don’t feel competitive or jealous of the fact that even though my parents were immigrant they managed to settle down here. I can tell my parents are scared that their eldest daughter will come under bad influence and start drinking and having sex. They always treat me like I’m a 5 year old child who doesn’t know anything and needs to be protected. I have never even gone to the gym by myself. We never go to restaurants and i have no idea how to order stuff when you go to one. I know it seems simple but I have never done it before and I don’t know any of the etiquette. It makes me nervous thinking about how I’ll have to socialize like this at uni. But what scared me the most about it that my parents won’t let me go even when I go uni. My dad is a driver and he often goes to London and I know he will drop by every now and then unexpectedly to make sure I am at my dorms not outside. My mum warns me that there are people out there I can’t trust and I will fall into bad company but I have no idea who to trust anymore and now I can’t make friends. When I go to uni I don’t know if I want to give drinking a go because I have never done it before and want to give it a go but I’m scared my parents will find out and I have no idea how I’ll deal with that. All this pressure makes me want to run away but I have no idea how to survive on my own. My parents don’t trust me at all I can tell. And it’s suffocating to see the way they think. When they talk about my 6 year old cousins who are boys, they find it easy to make jokes about how they’ll have girlfriends in no time but when it comes to me their full grown daughter, they won’t even let me go out by myself. I feel so much pressure to do well but I also feel so suffocated. I don’t get why my parents expect to follow the rules from a country I don’t even live in. I’m so tired of it. I don’t know what to do.

hi honey. as your desi big sister this rlly broke my heart to read bc i remember being exactly where you are. i need you to know that almost every daughter of south asian immigrant parents go thru this so you are not alone, you have never been alone, you will never be alone.

now. south asian parents never rlly see their children as people. they never raise their children to be capable and confident adults, just dolls that they keep as trophies and robots. it’s fucked up and wrong i know. but leaving home and making your own opinions about the world is paramount to both you and ur parents understanding that you are a human being with your own preferences, goals and ideals. yes it will be scary, yes you will struggle. the secrets, the arguments, the anxiety. but this is the start of you living your own life for the first time and if you don’t put your foot down now it will only get more difficult in the future. drinking and sex and drugs don’t make you a bad person. it’s a manipulation tactic they use to control you bc they’re scared of you becoming independent and forming your own thoughts. the more desperate they get the worse they will act. but tbh, it doesn’t matter what you do or don’t do bc nothing will ever be enough for them so chasing their approval will get you nowhere.

i don’t know how abusive ur family are so pls familiarise urself with ur rights here in the uk as well as various charities and local safe places you can go to if things go south. when you go to uni have a network of people not connected to ur family who know ur situation and whereabouts at all times. ur safety is the most important thing here. i know it’s terrifying but it’s time to start thinking for yourself and deciding what’s important to you. some asian kids can give it all up, some can’t. but there are ppl out there who will love and support your authentic you, whoever you may be, and the only way to find yourself is to go out and experience the world outside of ur parents/other ppl’s judgments and fears. don’t let their close minds hold you back. wish you all the best baby x

[sondepoch]

Day 1

10 Days (Jumin Han x Reader)

You didn't expect to find yourself locked in an engagement to Chairman Han, but with your own mother forcing you into it, you have no way of denying her. But as time continues and things change, you begin to develop affections for your fiance's son: Jumin Han. But the sad truth is that there's nothing either of you can do to stop the marriage, and you only have these 10 days before your future becomes reality. 10 days with Jumin Han.

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 | ✔

MASTERLIST 

Perfection.

Your entire life, that was all you sought.

Perfection.

Your parents had raised you in an elite neighborhood, surrounded by the most prestigious of company, with the constant expectation that you'd be the best student in your school. Your room had been a paradise, your skin better than a model's, and you'd gone through years of training to always be the most ladylike in every room.

Perfection was never something you sought - but rather something that had always been expected of you.

From the day you were adopted at three years old, your parents had made it clear that the reason they had selected you of all the children was because you seemed the most moldable. The least resilient. The most willing.

And that much was true. You did everything they ever asked from you.

Now though, now that it feels like your whole life is about to end and your world is about to come crashing down: you can't help but think about that fateful day. You'd accepted their explanation at first, but now, you suspect that the reason for your adoption was because you best conformed to the image of what they wanted their child to look like. Just like your adoptive parents, you had (e/c) eyes and were (h/c), so to the public eye you looked like a natural daughter. And years of learning dance had toned your body to give you all the right curves and edges: true beauty, to any man who gazed upon you.

Even when your father had passed at the young age of forty years old, after protecting you from a drunk driver, he'd gazed upon you on his deathbed, telling you how much he loved you and how perfect you were.

But this whole time, I was incomplete, wasn't I? You think bitterly, as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You wish you have the courage to ask those words out loud to your mother, who's smoking a cigarette in the hotel room next to yours, just a call away; but why bother when you already know the answer?

No matter what you did, from bringing home trophies in middle school to skyrocketing the stocks of their company, your role as a daughter has never been fulfilled.

Until now.

You drop your gaze to the diamond band wrapped around your ring finger.

Perfection.

It's the ring that completes your package as the perfect daughter. In your life, you'd been slowly achieving all your parents' needs from you. Their demands had started superficial, with the requirement that you were beautiful and graceful. Then it delved deeper, and you had to make sure you were always ladylike and polite. Soon, your responsibilities turned to being the top student in all your classes and placing first in all your extracurricular competitions. Then, it had been soaring through college and working as the Director of Internal Affairs at your parents' company, BC-Sonic.

Yesterday, there had been only one thing left that your mother sought from you: an engagement to the wealthiest man in all of South Korea.

And as always, you'eve fulfilled their expectations.

Perfection.

There was no other word anyone could use to describe you.

If only you could feel the same way.

"(Y/N)," You hear your mother call from the other side of the wall. "Are you ready yet?"

You take a second glance at yourself in the mirror.

To please your fiancé, you'd changed into a stunning red gown with diamond jewelry to match the ring he'd placed on your finger just yesterday. It's the kind of dress that men love and women hate. The bottom of the dress hangs low, just barely scraping the floor when you stand upright in your heels, but there's a slit that reveals your provocative legs, trailing all the way up to wear your 'birthmark' is. As if that weren't enough, though the top half of you is far from modest and your back and shoulders are almost entirely bare, making you feel naked.

But you know you look radiant.

"Yes, Mother," You respond swiftly, satisfied with your appearance.

The woman wastes no time in entering your room, and she immediately comes over to you. Cigarette in hand, you can't help but tense at the sight of the burn stick even though you know it won't touch you.

"Chin up," She commands. "Shoulders back, jaw loose. Don't move your head when you walk, or your hair will come undone. Come here, sweetling, yes, perfect. Back straight, (Y/N). There you go, make sure to hold your posture. Eyes up, don't stare at the ground."

If your father was here, he'd scoff at your mother's remarks and tell you how pretty you look, and how Chairman Han won't back out of this marriage over something trivial as drooped shoulders.

But he's gone. And all I have left is Mother.

Your mother stiffens. "Remember, (Y/N). You will be a proper lady at all times. Just because your last name is changing doesn't mean that the media won't continue to associate you with me. Every public appearance you make must be perfect, hm?" The woman's eyes are cold as she reminds you of your duty. "Do not allow the paparazzi to waste the years of training that has brought you to this moment. Do not forget who you are for even a moment."

You swallow nervously, but don't allow your fear to show. "Yes, Mother."

"Are you ready to meet Chairman Han for the first time since the formalization of your engagement?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Good," She says, before looking at you quizzically. "I leave for my flight in fifteen minutes. I do not want any calls from you saying that you've messed this up. Do you hear me? Do not ruin this, (Y/N). Of all things, do not ruin this."

You meet her eyes for perhaps the first time today, and you can't decode the look in her eyes. What is it hidden behind that seemingly infinite abyss of (e/c)? Resentment? Wariness? Concern? You've never failed her before, she shouldn't have any reason to think ill of you.

Though for her, this is by far the greatest task she has requested of you in your entire life. You'd tried your best to hide your mislike for Chairman Han, but she was your mother. Not biologically, but still.

Does she sense your apprehension at marrying Chairman Han?

"I'll make you proud, Mother."

Whenever your thoughts fail you, those words won't. Because each time you speak them, you sincerely mean them.

No matter what your parents asked of you, you would do it. That's how it always had been.

Marrying Chairman Han will be no exception.

***

"Let's not order yet, my love," Your fiancé murmured, placing his menu down next to his plate.

Despite your confusion, you do the same. "Is something the matter?" You inquire, already fearing for the worst. What if the reason Chairman Han doesn't want to order is because he doesn't want to have dinner with you?

Horror floods your senses as you internally prepare for the worst.

What if he wants to cancel the engagement?

You try not to imagine your mother's fury if such a thing were to happen, already acutely aware of your trembling hands.

"Don't be nervous, (Y/N)," Chairman Han says, placing a hand on your cheek. His hand is gentle, but you have to remind yourself not to physically recoil from his touch. "It's just that I've invited my son to share dinner with us. Now that we're engaged, I think it's well past time he meets the woman I'm going to share the rest of my life with."

You smile softly at the Chairman, relieved that it was nothing more serious. "Your son agreed? The same man who declined all our previous invitation to dine together?" You laugh lightly, not truly offended by your future step-son's refusal to meet with you. It's no secret that Chairman Han is a womanizer, and there's no doubt that his son had thought that you were just another senseless fling.

"Don't be offended by him, he's just a little...clueless when it comes to some social cues."

You smile, unsure of what to respond with. You're about to compliment Chairman Han's tie when his gaze flits above you.

"Ah, Jumin! You're here!"

You freeze.

Jumin?

The man takes his seat at the round table and turns to greet you with a bored look in his eye.

As soon as his gaze meets yours though, his eyes widen. And yours do too, at the realization that this engagement will be far worse than you'd ever expected.

Of course, you think to yourself. How could you forget? Jumin Han had been your classmate nearly a decade ago when the two of you were in high school. The two of you hadn't been especially close—distant enough that you hadn't pieced together the fact that it was his father you're marrying—but still acquainted to the point where you knew a good amount of information about him.

Like the fact that he, your future step-son, is older than you by a good six months.

"Jumin, I'd like you to meet my fiancé. This is (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N)...or, I suppose," The Chairman flashes you a bold grin. "(Y/N) Han."

You shift your gaze from the Chairman back to Jumin, terrified. What do you say? 'Nice to meet you?'

"It's been very long since I last saw you, (Y/N)," Jumin says stiffly, a cold expression on his face. "You've changed."

You swallow and try to remember your mother's instructions back in the hotel room. Be natural. Shoulders back, jaw loose. Back straight, eyes up.

As you force your body back into its proper posture, you feel yourself become more ladylike and somehow, your tongue unties itself and the words pour out of you. "Too long! How have you been, Jumin?"

You try not to cringe at the fakeness of your tone, but desperately hope that Jumin doesn't pick up on your fear. Of all the things to shake the foundations of your engagement, the fact that it's Jumin's father you're marrying is the worst.

Without a doubt, he's capable of convincing his father to cancel the engagement.

And that's the one thing you can't let happen.

"You two already know each other?" The Chairman asks.

Before you can respond, though, Jumin speaks up, his tone ice cold.

"Yes, I actually had the pleasure of knowing (Y/N) for four years when we were students. I suppose that's considerably longer than you've known her, Father?"

The Chairman raises an eyebrow, not liking the attitude he was getting from his son. "Excuse me, Jumin? It's true that I've only known sweet (Y/N) for a few weeks but our love is genuine, and I don't appreciate your implication."

"Your love is genuine?" Jumin responds swiftly. "Father, this girl is younger than me. You're marrying someone who should be your daughter."

You feel like this is a part where you should butt in and say something about how much you care about Chairman Han, despite his age, but thankfully the waiter interrupts the two men before you have to.

"Gentlemen, lady, might I take your orders?" He asks, and the tension in the room seems to settle.

Jumin orders his 'usual', whatever that is, but you haven't even had the opportunity to look at the menu. Momentarily flustered, you glance at your fiancé for help, but much to your relief, he orders for you.

He smiles generously at you once the waiter is gone as he pours you a glass of wine that had been brought to your table, and you try to ignore the fact that you won't be able to eat half of what he ordered for you.

"So, how is C&R doing?" You ask, trying to make conversation. "My family was checking this morning, and it seems that your stocks are faring extremely well."

"Business is going brilliantly, darling," The Chairman says, taking your comment as an invitation to regale you with all the details of how he secured two new investors in one day. You try to stay interested in what he's saying, but you find it difficult not to lose focus when the older man starts to rant about his theories for when the next depression will hit.

You spend the next few moments lost in your thoughts as you stare mindlessly into the man's eyes, seeming interested in his conversation but worlds away in mind. It's only when he dons a suspicious smile and slides his hand onto your thigh that you instinctively flinch, spilling wine on yourself.

You immediately stand up, apologizing for the mess while excusing yourself to the bathroom, finding an escape from the situation as fast as possible.

By the time you're in a stall, tears have already welled up in your eyes and you have to bend your body over and stare straight into the ground to prevent the tears from falling onto your cheeks. You can't risk ruining your makeup. You can't let Chairman Han think anything is wrong.

Calm down, (Y/N), You reason with yourself. If you're truly going to go through with this marriage, then you'll have to get used to Chairman Han touching you like that. You'll have to be prepared for even worse.

But just beginning to think about such awful things brings such a wave of nausea through your body that you decide it's best not to think about it at all, and you instead focus on your dress, dapping toilet paper at the small spot that's still wet.

You hear the bathroom door open, and initially pay it no mind until a familiar voice calls out to you.

"(Y/N)?"

Your heart nearly stops.

"J-Jumin?"

The voice pauses, before sighing. "Yeah. It's me."

Slowly, dreading the moment that's about to follow, you open the bathroom stall door and face the man, praying for this encounter to be over quickly.

"This is the woman's bathroom, in case you hadn't realized." You frown.

"I had." Jumin crosses his arms. "But I doubt you want to have this conversation in front of my father."

You stay silent.

"You spilled that wine on purpose," Jumin says. There's not an ounce of hesitation in his voice, and the way he says it, you can't even pretend that he's lying.

"On purpose, yes, but I do love your father." Woah. The way you said that so readily, you almost believe yourself.

Jumin takes a step closer to you, tilting your chin upward so he can better see your face in the fluorescent lights above. "You were crying," He says. Another fact.

"This was a nice dress. It's made me sad that I spilled wine on it."

"I don't recall you being that superficial."

"Why do you care?" You ask, taking a step back. Jumin's penetrating gaze bores into you, and you have to look away before your eyes can reveal how your heart feels.

"You've managed to convince my fool of a father that you're in love with him, and while I could not care less about you, I do mind what happens to him."

"I care about your father too," You say, but you can tell Jumin doesn't believe you.

"You care about him? Why, only ten seconds ago, you loved him. How much longer until you reveal your true intentions? I saw how fast you moved that wine glass, you can't tolerate his touch any more than you love him."

"I felt uncomfortable with you there," You respond swiftly. For a second, Jumin is taken aback, unsure of how to respond, and you take that as a victory. Have you finally said the right thing?

"Why are you doing this, (Y/N)? You could have almost any man you want, but really—my father? Your company is doing well enough that you don't need our finances, your family has more than enough connections, and it's not like..."

Jumin trailed off, his eyes narrowing.

"Is BC-Sonic in legal trouble?"

You practically roll your eyes at Jumin's absurd suggestion. "No!"

"Then why?!" Jumin asks. "Why have you targeted my father, of all the weak men in the world? What do you stand to gain from this marriage?"

You swallowed your doubts and took a step forward, knowing that if you had even the slightest hesitation when you uttered the following words Jumin wouldn't believe them. "Because I love him, Jumin."

And in that moment, it very well may have been true.

Near fifteen minutes later, the three of you are seated back at the table, making polite conversation about how C&R's export expansion goals would benefit from BC-Sonic's business connections in the Americas.

In fact, from a distance, the three of you look united. Jumin even smiles at you when you made a joke, and you feel a smidgen of hope flutter in your stomach when you realize that the three of you look almost like a family.

Your mother would be proud, you tell yourself, ignoring the fact that, to any outsider, they'd assume you to be betrothed to Jumin rather than his balding father.

Chairman Han is about to give Jumin some additional business advice when suddenly, he receives an emergency call from work.

You watch him from afar as he answers the phone, the pit of worry in your stomach growing stronger and stronger as you recognize the lines on his face contort into exasperation, then concern, and finally anger.

"(Y/N), darling, I'm afraid I have to fly out tonight," Chairman Han says, already wearing his jacket. "There's been some kind of security breach with our Director of International Communications and he's refusing to speak with me over the phone. I'll try to be back as quickly as possible, but..." The man trails off, and you realize where he's leading.

Where will you stay?

The words your mother said to you right before leaving suddenly seem more ominous than ever.   

I do not want any calls from you saying that you've messed this up. Do you hear me? Do not ruin this for us, (Y/N).

Does this count as a mess-up? What will your parents say? Can this cause the engagement to be canceled?

"Jumin, would you mind allowing (Y/N) to rest in your apartment for the night? I'll be back as soon as I can, and I don't want her flying all the way out to the BC-Sonic headquarters just tonight."

You bite your lip.

Staying with Jumin, horrible as it sounds, is still better than admitting failure to your parents. You gaze at him with hopeful eyes, and when he reluctantly agrees to his father's request, you have to physically prevent yourself from jumping for joy.

Chairman Han still seems apprehensive about the situation, regret painted on his features even as he rushes out of the restaurant, but suddenly your entire world seems brighter without the prospect of entertaining the older gentleman for the evening.

Unfortunately for you, though, Jumin picks up on your newfound happiness.

"You say you love him, but the first genuine smile I've seen from you all night only comes after he's gone."

You frown at Jumin, mood dampened.

"And how would you know what one of my genuine smiles looks like?"

Jumin sighs, putting down his fork. "(Y/N), we were in the same class for five years. My memory isn't so poor that I'd forget something so memorable that easily."

"'Something so memorable?' Are you saying that my smile is weird?" You accuse Jumin jokingly, hoping him to distract him from the topic of your engagement to his father.

"Of course not," He blurts, but it feels like the tips of his ears are the slightest bit pinker than they were one second ago. "Just eat your food so the two of us can be out of here as quickly as possible. I'm sure you're as eager for this night to end as I am."

You ignore Jumin's rudeness, glancing down at your plate. You awkwardly stab the corner of the dish and take a hesitant bite of it before butting your fork down, immediately realizing that your entire dish is inedible to you.

"What's wrong with the food?" Jumin asks. "Did the chef make a mistake while cooking it?"

You drag your eyes away from Jumin, suddenly hating the situation.

You want to be anywhere but here, doing anything but this.

"(Y/N)?" Jumin asks again, more gentle this time.

"I can't," You murmur under your breath, too quiet for anyone to hear. But Jumin's expectant expression forces you to repeat yourself. "I can't!"

"You can't what?"

"I can't eat this meal."

"...Is there a reason?"

You stay silent, already knowing that if you tell Jumin the truth, he'll just use it as ammo to ridicule the engagement between you and Chairman Han.

But as the silence stretches from uncomfortable to unbearable, you force the words past your lips. "I'm allergic to tomatoes."

And the dish Chairman Han had ordered for you was tomato-wrapped scallops with pineapple quinoa.

"And you two claim to be in love," Jumin mutters under his breath, scoffing. Wordlessly, he switches his barely-touched plate for yours and makes no further attempts at conversation.

You don't need to read his mind to know the mocking thoughts flitting through his mind, ridiculing the fact that your own fiancé didn't know such a simple fact about you.

The rest of the evening is spent in silence. But from the way Jumin stabs his scallops, you sense something deeper. Cruelty? Anger? Hate?

Resentment.

MASTERLIST

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 |  ✔

Word count: 3.6k

Notes: And that's the first chapter of this series! Some general info: As the name indicates, this work will have 10 chapters total (no epilogue planned), and right now I plan to be updating once per week on Saturdays :) And heads up - this WILL end in angst

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Next Update: 4/04/20

I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.