#can't live with him (without him) can't live without him (without him)

[cursedcola]

Prompt: YOU ARE LIKE PAPA!!!! Aka. I'm seeing a trend. The boys are all literal carbon copies of their mommas (or one parent) at this point - so how do they feel having a child that’s THEIR spitting image? In which your genes didn’t even try. Physically...and personality. Masterlist: LinkedUP Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: House-Wardens Format: Headcannons+ imagine (Yes, I know I said I wouldn't be doing bullets anymore...but one more? It's mixed. Can't just cold turkey a gal) A/N: Do I want to make this a series?...I do not know. Maybe? It's really hard to write without the kids having names - and I'm just here like...can I use the names I want? I already made them up in a past post. Would that ruin the experience for people? I mean - it's my stuff and I can do what I want but hmmm.... Warning(?): For this to be, MC's the one who popped the kid out and has reproductive ability to house spawn. Kiddos are biological. Talk of pregnancy and general child-rearing. Use of mother and she/her pronouns to make my life a bit easier.

Riddle couldn't care if his child looked like him down to the last freckle on is butt. What mattered most in that delivery room was that the child came out healthy with no complications. He's the father that doesn't shy away from asking the doctor + midwives questions - perhaps too many, since you nearly toss him out of the delivery room for causing unneeded distress.

In all honesty? Had he studied medicine like his mother pushed - Riddle would've been the one delivering his own child. He copes with stress through control - so imagine THAT scenario.

After birth, he cares much more for the child's skills and manners rather than their appearance. Do they wash their hands before every meal? Say their please and thank you? Do they trust him enough to state their opinions - respectfully, not a potty mouth.

Riddle can and will make them lick a bar of soap if they utter a curse word before the age of 15.

How's their academic drive? Are they social? It's very important that they get along well with others from an early age. He wants them to have many friends.

He's so focused on their personality - aiming to raise a happy, confident, healthy child - that Riddle takes compliments on their physical attributes with a grain of salt until his hard work all those years child-rearing amass into... well, a second less intense version of himself.

He's adamant to ensure the child's homelife is better than what he had growing up. In a way, he misses much while worrying about other things. 10/10 an anxious father, but very doting despite being strict.

"Must I paint a heart on my cheek every day? Why not a crown, or something more fitting us? Like a rose?" his daughter huffed, yet went to paint a large red heart over her cheekbone regardless.

Just like her father, she'd received her invitation to Night Raven. The girl was expecting it, her certainty fueled by perfect grades and a strong aptitude for magic. She did not lack confidence.

Just like her father, she was assured to land in Heartslabyul. Already prepping her cheek-mark before the mirror made any verdict.

Just like her father, she aimed for the position of Housewarden before setting a single foot on campus.

Yet unlike her father, she held no issues in speaking her grievances. She bemoaned about packing, groveled at her mother's feet for her favorite biscuits before living off cafeteria meals, and surely had no reservations stealing Riddle's best fountain pen for her studies.

She keenly resembled a certain ginger that still calls the Rosehearts' household every day despite getting blue-screened by the answering machine.

That’s the last time Riddle allows you to chose the godfather of his child. Ace is an insufferable influence without that power to toss around.

Riddle sighed, plucking the brush from her fingers and pinning her V-shaped bangs back to examine her uniform. He flattens her lapels and redoes her necktie.

His necktie. Gods he’s raised a little thief.

For a moment, as he loops the tie-knot, he's a young boy calling the girl's mother over each morning to straighten her uniform. It's nostalgic, especially with how his daughter squirms under his appraisal.

Definetly her mother’s daughter, he thinks.

It is then that Riddle sees himself through her wide eyes - they're the same greyish blue that were hardened on his first day. His daughter's are much kinder, he notes. She'll easily find companions to eat her meals with.

Her cheeks are full with sweetness- his were too, but by genetic design rather than an extra treat here and there. To this day his baby-face lingers.

Her cheeks were 100% rounded with uncle Trey's spoiling. Not that Riddle could deny her when he'd eat just as much sweets while toiling over papers in his office. He remembers the familiar patter of feet slipping in, tiny hands pushing a cookie on his desk and coating it with crumbs.

He'd scold her to bring a plate next time, but take a break from work to enjoy the moment. Strict yet not domineering. A child that shares should be encouraged, at least that's what one of his many parenting manuals said.

She shared his button nose and tiny stature. Except she loved wearing matching Mary-Janes with her mother, while he wouldn't be caught without a heel at that age. She inherited his height but not his insecurity. Thank goodness.

Perhaps all those comments about his genetics weren't solely in regard to her magical prowess or ambitions. "....Father? Hellloooo?" she side-stepped to grab her bags, just as he reached to flatten her hair for the fifth time. His heart mellowed enough to not scold her impropriety.

"Ah - " Riddle coughed into his fist, " - apologies, little rose. I just never realized how much you look like -"

"You?” She cut in, “Yeah, psssssh. Mother says it at least once a day. About time you listened."

Riddle snorted, pinching between his brows. Yes, of course it was said. Although only now was he beginning to believe it.

"In appearances, yes. Yet your manners are as deplorable as ever."

Leona hopes his children are nothing like him. Which is impossible, since beastmen carry dominant traits when pitted against humans. He's not surprised in the slightest when his child has two little cub-ears atop their head, or that tiny chord barely passing as a tail. A ready snack he threatens to bite off when they misbehave.

At the very least, he hoped for your eyes. His piercing citrine was attractive, no doubt about that. He's not displeased to have them peer up at him from a bassinette each morning. Yet it is your eyes that carry a softness that this palace needs for him to get through his day.

Hey. At least there's no question of paternity. The joke falls flat with the midwives though. 'course it does.

Multiple times, by the way. For someone who claims to dislike loud children, Leona's genes are intent to sire three spitting images of himself.

In every which way - from their squeaky yawns after a mid-day siesta, to the magic flowing in their veins.

"Papa! Look what I learned how to do!"

Leona barely had time to look up from his endless pile of paperwork. The damn thing was near endless, and he'd missed three scheduled siestas just trying to get through the civil dispute filings. His brother spared no mercy in delegating the less 'enthusing' tasks to his 'smart, wise, people-smart' - pah - little brother.

He hated the sea of menial administrative filings.

His eldest daughter was well aware - she hated her homework just as much.

"A stampede's on it's way! Better freeze up before it's too late!"

Which is why she chose that moment to turn her beloved papa's woes to stone. Literally.

The moment her little fingers touched papyrus, the entire stack turned into solid rock. As did the blood in Leona's veins. Sparkly citrine eyes looked at him expectantly. Somewhere in the palace the lioness' tutor was undoubtly scouring to find her, take her back to magic theory, maybe try to cover this up from the other servants.

"You - OI! I needed those - urk, what else have you turned to stone?" he drops the pen in his hand and tries to move the now frozen stack into a drawer.

"Dammit Ki'faji...Where are your tutors? This is exactly why I told your mom combined lessons with Cheka would be a hassle," Leona grumbles and kicks from his desk, quick to check the hall outside. The kid was a bad influence - rambunctious as a twerp and even more riled up as a preteen.

Upon seeing no servants, guards, or even Cheka running up after his cousin - Leona's both relieved and angered.

Angered that his daughter was left alone. She probably escaped to avoid classwork, which he did too at that age but she deserved better. A proper education outside of solitude. One where she could hopefully grow up optimistic about this country and the people inside of it.

Relieved that no servant witnessed her Unique magic. They wouldn't understand. He can't bear the thought of them speaking of her like they did him.

Except it would be inevitable.

Then angered again, because in his hurry her little tail tucked between her legs. She hugged the side of his work desk with her hands fisted at the hem of her tunic. Her lips set in a scared pout, looking up at him past that untamed mane in her eyes. Worried.

"Papa...did I do something wrong?"

He wonders if this is what his father felt like. Being confronted with your own child, knowing that by cruel fate they'd have to face hardships and hatred for something out of their control.

Suffocating. His own throat felt full of sand. The leather on his hands too tight. She looked so much like him. Acted like him. That much Leona never once contested. Ki-Faji bemoaned to the skies that it was like time never passed, and he was stuck in a loop teaching the same unruly child.

It was funny, until it wasn't. "Nah, kiddo. Nothin' like that," he tried to keep his usual drawl. Unclench his fists. Forget about when he first slipped gloves on, "ya gotta warn me before a shock like that. So you finally got your magic tamed down, huh? Good job."

He shut the door and it set closed with a load thud. Leona might have an idea of what his father felt, but right now? She came first.

Ensuring she felt wanted, strong, and damn right accomplished - came first. Everything else later.

So with just a few strides, he swept her up over his shoulder and out from under that desk. She giggled and squawked about turning 'him' to stone if he made her go back to classes.

And Leona made no promises, but set her on the edge of his desk with 'threats' of turning her sweets to sand if she didn't at least try.

"With Unique Magic like that, you'll out-class your cousin before he even catches wind," and a bit of rivalry never hurt to keep the bloodline strong too.

Which judging by his daughter's immediate squirming to go and turn the first-prince to stone? She inherited Leona's competitive streak as well.

Unions between Merfolk and Humans are rare. Roughly 1/100 and that is giving benefit of the doubt. There were too many boundaries and complications. Prejudice born from history, the need for transfiguration, differing lifespans and culture.

One strong deterrent, perhaps the most impactful, is childrearing. The genetic output - while not impossible - is exceedingly unpredictable. Each species of merfolk reproduces differently, and their genetic dominance when put against a human's gene (especially if the mother is human) can cause complications. Capricious complications.

And as we all know - Azul is not fond of chance. Were his child to be born on land, yet have gills? Their lungs are so small, so new, they wouldn't make it to water in time. The same could be if they were born underwater and needed air.

One thing he is certain of, is that Octopi carry strong genetics. Literally. Should the child inherit his strength its kicks could do much more to your stomach than be a tickle to fawn over.

His mother wanted grandchildren, as did his great-grandmother did great grandchildren. Truth be told he wouldn't be opposed to raise one to leave his legacy to. Yet the Ashengrotto genes were strong with each descendent, so much that when he discovered you were with child? He couldn't be happy. Not truly - because too much was at risk and out of his control.

He prayed, which is not something Azul ever does, that the child would take after you. At each stage of development you were monitored down to the last detail, looking for any complications. Even the slightest hint of a tentacle or incompatibility.

Luckily, the child formed feet. Its first kick scared the hell out of him, but at most left you sore. Yet he wasn't able to relax. Not until you were taken care of in the best hospital on land, with a literal aquarium set up next to the bed just in case.

A medical marvel. That's what this child was.

Not a miracle. Not a blessing.

A medical marvel, and the most beautifully unpredictable thing that has ever happened to Azul in his entire life.

There was no clear picture of how his son might look at birth. He waited with bated breath, mentally running through every text he could find on mer-human unions. Banking on all the preparations He arranged and trying not to bite through his nails from the anxiety. The success rate was too low, but you insisted.

And he was most fortunate, because had you not then he wouldn't be holding the most cherished prize of his life.

The baby didn't cry, yet neither did he according to his mother. He was pale, no gills in sight but the wispy swirls of light gray on his head showed Azul's genes wouldn't rescind everything.

It was hidden from view for now, but there were signs of mixed blood on his son's skin. Plentiful black dots spotted his entire body, too dark to be freckles yet too light to be like Azul's outer skin in his mer-form. Time would only tell if Azul's genes really did overtake all, and if his son would look at the world with wet purple eyes.

Yet what struck Azul the most wasn't these obvious traits, ones he predicted at the very start of your pregnancy after endless nights of research.

It was that right below his son's lip, in the same spot as his father, was a small mole. That truly was by chance with no genetic influence.

He thumbed the little speck, marveling at something so small yet he didn't realize he wanted until it was there.

"You weren't lying, huh? Those are some strong genetics you carry."

Azul balked, just barely stopping himself from whipping around too quick. He turned to scold you for not sleeping, worry ebbing at him all over again.

Yet you rest your head against his shoulder, cheek pressed into his ruffled button down to sink against him. His heart still spun like it did as a teenager.

"Look at his little head of hair," you laughed, and he mutely did just that, "if he gets glasses, then I think my bloodline's finished. Might as well say you did mitosis"

That got him to scoff.

"Hardly," he said dismissively, but his lips pulled to smile regardless, "I don't recall giving him feet. That's all your doing."

"Well excuse me for not having eight legs."

"You are excused," he snickered, "Truly, he would be so much more productive with them."

Azul didn't mean that. Well, partially. Yes his son would get much more done with four sets of arms but with other costs.

You hadn't pressed, and he was grateful.

Kalim wants a large family. Not only because it is expected of him as the eldest Asim, but also because he is a family man. He adores his siblings and does his absolute best to give them all attention despite their large quantity.

He's the most doting husband, and is even more attentive as a parent. One thing he will do differently from his father is keeping his family 'small'. Four children minimum, six children maximum. Monogamous as well. As much as he loves all his siblings, the unspoken tensions are too much to endure. Kalim's also a one-spouse kind of guy, and the thought of sharing - while normal for someone of his status - is not for him. No amount of suggestion or pressure will change that. It is bad enough that his children will be subject to worries about their uncles, aunties, and cousins possibly harboring ill-will. Kalim is set on ensuring that they are part of a true family, one without such tensions, and that he can give them all the love they deserve.

Perhaps he feels guilt as the eldest. He received the most attention from his father as the heir, but he has siblings who barely know anything about their father aside from how he looks. He has step-mothers he has met only in formality, and as time went on there were strains between his siblings that he couldn't ignore. Not after taking his official seat.

Kalim will not be the same as his father. Regardless for his respect and love for the man - No matter what the future does to him, no matter if he lives a long life or one cut short. Kalim will make sure his spouse and children are cared for. He loves them more than anything on the planet.

Should he have a family, and the situation demand it? He'd give up his spot as heir in a heartbeat and move far out into the dunes with nothing but the clothes on his back. All for them to be happy and safe. That's the kind of dad he is.

"Baba?"

Kalim resisted the urge to giggle. His eldest son hated when Kalim acted too childlike, and he was already pushing the boy's patience. He was just past thirteen, his fourteenth birthday already planned for a week-long celebration in just a half-month. It would be the biggest banquet the Scaldings Sands had see since Kalim's wedding. His son would soon start officially training as the next head Asim, just like Kalim did at that age.

Yet it was never too early to celebrate one of the best days of Kalim's life. Which is exactly why Kalim hovered outside the boy's window at an hour long past their family's 'bedtime'. The carpet under his feet familiar as ever, as was his son's exhausted disapproval (we wonder which attendant he inherited 'that' look from).

"Come on! Let's go for a carpet ride. Just you and me tonight," Kalim gently pat the space next to him, his smile adamant, "we don't even have to tell your mother."

His son deadpanned. Even Kalim grimaced at that one.

"Okay! If we get caught, I'll take the hit for both of us. Please? It's such a lovely night out. Perfect for a flight~"

Normally it would be the son begging his father to sneak out, not the other way around. Yet Kalim's eldest was much more mature than he was at that age. Despite being his physical copy, those ruby reds never sparkled with excitement like his father's. They were aways fully concentrated - be it on his studies, his charity, or whomever captured his attention. There came a point when a rumor surfaced that he couldn't possibly be Kalims, yet they didn't reach far thanks to the physical resemblance.

The 'only' resemblance. Since the kid hadn't cracked a laugh since he was in diapers.

Something Kalim learned to accept, but never gave up trying.

His son observed from his bed, the boy's nose wrinkled with thought. No doubt wondering if he should tattle to his mom. He was a doting momma's boy, at least he had that in common with his father.

"Fine," he sighed heavily, and rolled out of bed like it was torture.

Kalim waited, holding the curtain open eagerly until his boy hopped the ledge and sat cross-legged on the carpet's far edge.

Then they were off. High above the city where no one would see. Kalim bobbed his head happily, pointing out buildings as if his son hadn't memorized the entire map of their homeland at the ripe age of five.

"Oh! And there's the restaurant I took your mother on our first date. She loves their Kanafeh -"

"Baba, I know. We have it for breakfast twice every week."

Kalim guided the carpet towards lower ground without a response - keeping air, sassy teenagers, and his messy turban from whacking him in the face.

Only two of those three succeeded.

"Why are we even out here? Shouldn't you worry more about your responsibilities? What if mother wakes to an empty bed, did you consider the consequences? Her worries?"

There came those older thoughts out of such a young mouth. Kalim couldn't help but slump inwards, although his smile still hung on. "You're turning fourteen soon," life will change, "Don't you want to enjoy life a bit more before starting your studies? Baba will understand, you know." he said, and perhaps that was not what his son expected to hear. The boy puffed up. His tanned skin rouging with lost composure.

"I'm not like you. Being al Asim means something to me. Maybe you'd understand if you were a proper sultan who took his job and family seriously! Rather than sneaking off in the night for merry rides on a flying carpet!"

Under the moonlight, his son's perfectly primmed white hair bounced in the wind. Even in sleep he managed to keep his appearance tidy. There were times it was like Kailm was looking in warped a mirror. Those rare moments when he caught the boy lapse, usually with his younger siblings or cousins. When he looked softer, his garnet eyes full of kindness rather than the contempt held in them right now.

Except in these moments too - he still saw a mirror. Just one he wished to avoid.

He too disliked his father's way of doing things, to a certain extent. That his own son felt similar wasn't a surprise. It did not lessen the sting regardless.

"Tifli..." Kalim started, and his son faltered at the endearment, "think what you want, but there is nothing that means more to me than our family."

And even if his son wouldn't admit to it - Kalim knew he saw the mirror too. Just because Kalim disliked his father's choices, didn't mean he did not love him.

He reached for his son without a second thought, pulling the boy down to roughly rub his cheek over his head.

and just like that, Kalim was back to being happy and his son back to groaning complaints - albeit less agitated, to Kalim's delight - and pretending he was much more mature than he was deep down. Kalim's opposite yet perfect little replica.

"Ahahaha!!! Look at you! Just wait until the council has to fight against that fire! I can't wait to bring you with me! "

"AGH LET ME GO!!! WHY DID I EVEN AGREE TO THIS?!"

Papa Vil - now that's one unexpected title to tack onto his Resume. Contrary to what everyone might believe of a superstar leading a life on the go, Vil is proud to be a father. His own raised him while juggling his goals, why should Vil's career deny him the joys of fatherhood?

No. When Vil's daughter is born, he is more than prepared to balance family and work. He locked in when taking a spouse, and is never one to be unprepared.

When you were pregnant, he announced a hiatus in his career just as you entered the third trimester. He can afford it. The public loves a family man. He has money money, and wasn't going to risk missing the birth of his first child while travelling.

Also. Supportive husband to the maximum. Considering you were carrying his child, the bare minimum he could do was be readily available as you go through the roughest stage. That baby had a college fund made and filled before she was even born.

Not that he'd just let her mooch - no child of his would grow up without ambition and practiced life skills. He was not 'aiming' to create a replica or enforce his standards...but she wouldn't lack drive. No Schoenheit - not even you - is going to go through life quietly.

His hiatus was meant to extend until she turned one. Old enough to enjoy life on the road, for you to recover, and give 3-5 years for him to work until she started school. Unlike him at that age, she wouldn't be chartered around as much for his work. Nope.

He already had it planned. She'd be enrolled in a private academy, you'd work as you liked in a good neighborhood, and he wouldn't take any contracts outside of the Shaftlands until she was a teenager. Balance. She would have every opportunity, proper support, and hopefully independence to grow outside of his shadow.

The last thing Vil wanted was for her to be influenced by his career - well, other than admiring his films and being that perfect little face to single out int the audience while at a talk-show or photoshoot.

Speaking of Schoenheit genetics and their blossoming careers - heavens above, he fell in love the moment she first opened her eyes. There were few curly blond ringlets that grew out at super speed as the months past, and she inherited his lavender eyes. Although on a baby they were more rounded, doe-like, and would most definitely take his sharp edge as she grew. Every time he booped her little nose, the little giggle that came was almost melodic.

Such a well behaved baby made a cameo in one of his largest projects to date. He took the role of an unruly ostracized duke, where the special effects makeup made him both enchanting yet horribly frightening to young children. His character gained his redemption through raising an orphan, and Vil's little girl was the only baby they could find who wouldn't cry when seeing her father act so heinous.

"Vil, everyone here is itching to know, is it true that the baby we see in 'Redemption of our Finest ' is your own daughter? There are rumors and speculations from those on set yet we'd love confirmation."

Vil shifts in his chair. The many cameras at all angles did little to deter his focus from the interview in progress. It was one of many, and the talk-host across from him looked very eager to get the first scoop on his latest hit success. He smiled to the camera with his eyes, pretending to be in thought for a moment. The questions were all pre-approved, after all.

"Your assumption and the rumors are all correct," he started, crossing his legs and folding his hands together in them, "unfortunately we struggled to find a child that would not cry when faced with my appearance. Poor little things - it is a struggle to rear child actors. Especially babies."

The reporter blinked, somehow still shocked despite knowing the already.

"And you're saying that your daughter is a cut above the rest?" they asked, and he tutted inwardly. The phrasing was poor, as always with these reporters.

"Yes," he gave them a moment's victory, "and no."

He didn't wait for further inquiry.

"My daughter is remarkable - she is my greatest production, a work of perfection alongside my beloved spouse. Yet this film is rated PG-13, and includes scenes not fit for young eyes. Babies act on instincts alone, and for the majority of this film my appearance was...ah, I so rarely say this, but I was unsightly."

His tone carried warning for them not to twist his words, and the message was received as they gestured for those behind the scenes to alter the backdrop.

"We could even argue your acting ability is that good! To make such a beautiful face and poised demeanor come off as cold." they said, and with the click of a button the screen behind them changed.

On it came a picture of an old, tattered bassinette left on the front stoop of a castle. The picture flicked to show inside, and in it was Vil's precious little girl. Special effects added some dirt on her cheeks, and they wrapped her in a tattered blanket for the scene. Yet despite their efforts to make the child look abandoned, Schoenheit genetics demanded the world see such an adorable baby for all she is.

The audience awed at the picture, even without a cue card. Vil himself took on a genuine lift to his practiced smile when seeing her.

"And just look at her folks! Such an adorable little baby! Can you really expect anything less from THE Vil Schoenheit and Eric Venue's heritage. An actor before she can even count! Your wife's genes didn't even try here, did they Vil?"

The crowd appears insatiable as the host scrolls through a series of photos. Some taken from the film, others from photoshoots and the occasional candid photo snuck by paparazzi. He knew better than to try and hide his family, but said nothing as they all made assumptions.

After all - he was beautiful, and his daughter was undoubtedly the most beloved baby in all of Twisted Wonderland. It was only natural and who was he to turn his nose when faced with one of the few facts these reporters have gotten right.

Although, he wasn't entirely content He laughed into his palm, unable to resist the chance and made direct eye-contact with one of the cameras. Knowing full well that you were watching somewhere back stage, lips likely puckered from being disrespected and just waiting for him to come sneak your family out before the public was dismissed.

"I'm afraid there is nothing to argue there. My genes are perfection, not to mention competitive," he smirked seductively at the camera, propping his chin in the palm of his hand, "but I'm not opposed if my wife would like a rematch for a chance to win the next battle."

And with that - he simultaneously spiked his popularity rating and soft-launched what would likely be a second replica coming to life soon.

Maybe.

If you didn't kill him for that stunt first.

Prodigies spawn prodigies. At least in this case.

Idia never pictured himself as a family man. Hells he never thought anyone would even look at him with anything other than disgust (minus that one ghost lady. He doesn’t like to talk about it) let alone marry him. Needless to say that he cannot decide if you are an idiot or if he has plot armor - because those are the only two reasons you could possibly ever agree to give up your entire life and move to STYX just to be with him.

**see Marriage series for settling THAT can of worms

Yet you do, and now he’s got not only his little brother but a whole ass spouse. He’s on cloud nine. Life cannot be letting him have such good luck. The RNG is rigged

Until he learns that you’re with child - and it all goes boom. Literally. Since not only does his daughter inherit his curse, his fiery flames that never tame themselves, and his spiked teeth that nip his lips way too many times for comfort -

She inherits his genius.

Raising a child in a contained base is a living nightmare.

Raising a child with a need to infiltrate the laboratories and experiment is hell. At least he kept to his room when tinkering as a kid. Idia’s daughter has his brains and your craftiness for going around undetected…and your habit of initiating dramatic events. Needless to say that she does NOT keep to your family’s apartment, does NOT submit to any security (he regrets teaching her how to decode the base padlocks), and very much enjoys making STYX ‘lively’….haha…yeah

No one has ever met such a happy Shroud. Excluding Ortho. He was a sweet type of happy. You spawned a menace.

But let’s not derail. Even if he didn’t want her per-say - Idia loves his daughter. His gut twisted seeing the Shroud curse start taking hold over such a tiny body. She was just a toddler and already burning through enough blot to tie her to this place. He knew the feeling of those youthful amber eyes looking at him for guidance. She looked so much like Ortho as a toddler, and as a child began to resemble him more with longer flames.

It was a constant battle every day. Balancing his work while also trying to do better - because his attitude sucked. He knew his attitude sucked. You warned him about using self-deprecative language and for the most part he did learn to reign it in.

Except old habits die hard, and deep down he still struggles to like himself. Seeing his daughter follow in his footsteps burns brutally, since she has all this potential and just like him she’ end up working for the family business without a choice. All because of these stupid flames and these stupid teeth and these stupid genetics and this STUPID curse -

“MAMAAAAAAAA!!!! DADDY’S BEING A BIG MEANIE AGAIN!!!”

Her shrill high-pitched cry carried throughout the apartment. Idia had just enough time to swipe the alarm system off before it processed. He wishes he could regret putting a system to detect and alert if she was distressed when alone here - but couldn’t. Even now. Since this was totally 100% his fault.

Dammit this kid has lungs of steel.

“Nonononononono - No Mama! No! Shhh shh shh shh!” He grapppled at her little shoulders with clammy hands, “Look! Look I’m not sad, see??? We have pretty hair! Super cool hair! Please please please stop crying -“

And then she did.

The tonal whiplash. The way this tiny manipulator just ceased all her tears, mouth clamping shut with an audible click. A literal child pulling out a handkerchief from her pocket to pat her eyes dry - like some twisted 60yr old swindler at a poker game who’s been training for this moment for decades.

He should have known.

Honestly. Idia can’t even bring himself to be mad. The amount of gaslighting it took to get this kid off his Ninswendo last week already put his best tricks to use.

He is the one who created this monster.

Just like her dad - his little girl was hyper aware of people. Including him, and picked up all his weaknesses. She knew damn well that he genuinely had reason to fear only two people - her momma and her grandmother. Both of which lecture him about being a good model. She knew that system was put in place, and to be good when no one was around to watch her. Not that she ever stayed quiet in their home with S.T.Y.X labs to infiltrate.

He just never thought the day would come, when her demon like tendencies would be used for something like this.

“Your her father, not her friend” his mother said.

“It’s bad enough you turned me into a living photocopier - don’t you dare get lenient with her at this age” you warned.

“That child scares me” he thought, and you agreed. Awful. Awful parents. You both mean it in the most loving way possible.

“Hwee hee hee! I’m glad you think so, daddy,” she grinned up at him all sweet-like, with those pointy little chompers ready to stake their claim. She snapped her teeth at him like a piranha, “hehe~ Mommy says our teeth are cool too. The pointies make eating steak easier - oh! Oh! Can we please have steak for dinner tonight? Please?? Pleaseeeeee?”

Something told him that should he say no, those distress detectors would be set off before he could catch them.

“U-uh…yeah, kiddo. Sure thing. Just go play and I’ll put an order in.”

He tried desperately to hide the quiver in his voice, but knew he failed. She skipped off to her bedroom much too happily - even if father’s were supposed to want their kids to be happy, that was too much - and whatever work remained for the evening didn’t seem important

As Idia slid up to one of the house control panels to check for instant-card delivery, he wondered how this became his life, and if this is how his parents felt having a prodigal spawn of the under-hells for a son.

No. He wasn’t that bad….was he? Did he even want to know at this point?

Boom

“DADDY!!! MY EXPERIMENT BLEW UP AND IS LEAKING RED GUNK!”

No. No. He really did not want to know. For the sake of whatever relationship he had with his parents.

He wants as many children as possible. The definition of that one clip of of the kid who wanted 100 children, so that they'd all have to be his friend. Not that Malleus would force his children to be his friends - well, it would be a plus surely - but he does want a large family to live his life beside.

He finds comfort in solitude, but comfort's close companion is loneliness. He wishes to never be partnered with that feeling. There was opposition. Union between the Briar Prince and a human? Unheard of. Not to mention the life-span difference. Not just between himself and you, but also for his children. Half-fae live long, but not as long as full-blooded fae. In time he will still come out alone, but he hopes to have many memories. Much love and warmth to take with him.

Yet this isn't meant to be sad - no, let us focus on the absolute joy he felt when his first child was born. A boy, his magic exceedingly strong despite his lineage. Even the elders were surprised at the magical prowess this child held. It was almost as if Malleus' nightly wishes for his child to be well, to be loved, to be healthy - taking every precaution to ensure you were well cared for during pregnancy, speaking blessings to your stomach in the dead of night - it all just manifested and out came the world's most perfect child.

A Draconia who would grow up with both parents. He'd be protected, nurtured, loved, and never ever alone. Some might call the King overbearing, making sure his spouse had a desk in his office and attending his meetings with a bright yellow baby sling over his chest. It definitely stood out against his royal attire but Malleus didn't mind.

In magic - there was also physical appearance. Being half-human, the child physically aged quicker than Malleus did in his youth. Yet he still retained the Draconia genes, with two curled scaly horns poking out above his forehead. He had no tail at birth, but around puberty many little scales began to poke their way through at his temple, back, wrists, and neck. No one predicted this since the Draconias have never reproduced with humans, but you tried to calm him with poorly convoluted jokes about ' fancy dragon acne'.

Yet according to Lilia, the boy looked like a near carbon-copy of Malleus once he sprouted up. His hair may have been kept shorter, slicked back, and he may carry himself entirely different from his father. Yet the look in his slitted-emerald eyes was exactly the same. His aura was the same.

And Malleus hadn't any idea how to handle that observation. Surely it was meant as a compliment. In the moment, he laughed and took it as one. Who wouldn't be prideful to see themselves in their child? Especially one so accomplished, growing into his scales with pride and eagerly stepping into his role as prince.

Except Malleus wouldn't, because the thought of his child sharing the feelings he had at that age? It unsettled him greatly. Perhaps one of his worst nightmares as a doting father.

“Father?”

Three sharp knocks echoed in Malleus’ study. He needn’t look up from his book, since the door opened with a thud without waiting for his approval.

Not that he minded - no, quite the contrary. He felt excitement building up at the first knock after all. There was only one person who it could be.

No one would dare impose on the Briar King during his downtime.

None had permission for such rudeness.

No one except his dear family, of course. Although as much as he wished for them to cling to his side and be a welcome reprise from his duties - Malleus was rarely afforded such a gift. His eldest son in particular conducted himself more as a knight or distant consultant than a loving son. Perhaps that came from leaving him in Sebek’s care - as much as his knight was ecstatic to become the first prince’s personal guard, his constant reverence to the elder briar ways likely left an impact on an impressionable child. Instead of bedtime stories, the little Draconia likely fell asleep to Sebek's long-winded lectures on the daily.

Back when he was a starry-eyed toddler, of course. Now the boy wouldn't dare let his guard down enough to sleep, even if his safety was guaranteed. Somehow despite Malleus taking every last precaution to rear a tranquil child, he raised a stickler instead.

“Hm? You look troubled, my son” Malleus met his eldest’s rare lack of decorum with amusement. He didn’t bother to hide a fanged smirk from him.

His son, who seemed to bristle in the doorway when under Malleus’ eye, clearly struggled to contain himself into the proper prince he was trying to be.

“Because I am troubled, father” he grit out, hands flexing at his sides. Sharp black fingernails pricking at his palms.

“Oh? And what seems to be the problem? You so rarely come to me with such matters” - to anyone who didn’t know the king, the sentence read as a bitter slight.

Yet it was merely a father sulking for his son’s attention, in his own prideful way.

“That’s precisely the issue,” his son huffed, “with all held respect, you cannot just drop in on my classes whenever you feel like it! It’s disruptive!”

Malleus merely turned the page in his book, “and whose fault is it that I had to resort to such measures?”

His question met a guilty conscience, and so he continued.

“What else am I to do? My child no longer behaves as my blood. He writes home giving stale reports as if he is one of my soldiers and bids his precious family far too few visits,” Malleus looks up from his ‘reading,’ and gestures to the uniform his son wears, “What else am I to do to see my precious son, other than visit his school? I was a student there once. Your headmaster wouldn’t dare to deny my entry.”

“Father - I understand your anger with my negligence but that is not an excuse for disrupting my classmates -“

“They looked quite please with my presence. I even supplemented material for your lecture -“

“They were scared beyond their wits! - And what of mother?! Surely she was against doing something so drastic! Think of our image! The King of Briar Valley cannot just casually drop his responsibilities whenever he so pleases.”

The boy’s composure finally cracked - and even for a half-blood, his power easily contorted the world around them if left unteathered.

Crackles of electricity buzzed across the study, flickering through a lit desk-lamp. As did the temperature lessen some degrees. Rather than be miffed by his son’s explosion, Malleus laughed in the face of it.

So this is how he must have looked during his moments of impulsivity. Hah.

“You���d be foolish to assume she didn’t try and come along. I thought to spare you her ire, as a mercy.”

At that, the lamp ceased it’s flickering to beam a steady light once again. The teen’s cheeks flushed a shameful color, so rare for one who prides himself more than any of his siblings.

"That was not necessary," he softened almost instantly. Even if she nearly committed the same 'crime' as Malleus, it seems favorites were at play.

"You know with certainty that it was."

A Draconia through and through. What was the term Lilia used? “Momma’s boy”? Considering that none disrespect the Queen - the King included - as her ire could strike the most sore spots of their family after all.

The boy pulled at his collar, out of arguments and simmered to displeasure rather than anger. He muttered an apology for losing his temper, and Malleus found himself wishing for the argument to continue just a bit longer.

After all, these were the times he felt most like a father, a husband, part of a family - rather than a king. He misses the early days when he was only the first three, before the council and other influences pushed his children to focus on responsibilities and their lineage.

“I’m sorry for not writing home…or visiting…I hadn’t thought it would trouble you. I simply - I thought it best to place distance between us.”

“Distance?” Malleus balked, “Distance from your family?”

He couldn’t understand why his child would want distance.

How could the boy he worked so hard to instill belonging within, whom he raised from egg to man, whom he would give up everything for - possibly say such a harrowing thing.

His own blood. His heart and soul. To spew such things in the face of ancestors who were bound to loneliness.

Whatever explanation for his manners didn’t matter so long as he was happy, but to intentionally want to be away from all Malleus thought worthwhile in life?

Never-mind. Malleus wanted the argument to cease. Indefinitely. And to tie himself to this desk for a decade or more.

“Yes, Father. Otherwise it is too difficult-“ he hesitated to continue, but one look at his father- whatever expression he might hold that couldn’t be contained despite his efforts - seemed to be the last push, “- being away. From my family. Leaving. I do not like it, but it is my duty. Coming home, hearing from you, mother, even the care packages I receive from grandfather! I can’t eat them but somehow just smelling the burnt food makes me falter! How can you expect me to preform up to our family’s standards, if I am homesick all the time!?”

It was the first time since he was a boy, clinging to Malleus’ legs, begging his parents not to leave him with his babysitters, that his son cried so openly. Malleus nearly gave in each time it happened too.

The pressure of royal duties, of perfection, on his shoulders was the same as those who came before him. Yet Malleus found himself more relieved than anything, even if his child might never recover his pride.

It was also the first time in many years that Malleus hugged his son, careful to avoid his growing blunted horns, and wasn’t pushed away.

“You are already doing more than enough. Loving your family is nothing to be ashamed of, and it is one of my greatest regrets that you thought otherwise for a single moment.”

[grenadehearts]

Twisted up with Shoto, you lie tangled in morning light as it spills through the bay window. The sun traces across his face—now chiseled, no longer carrying the roundness of youth from his days at U.A.

Time has sharpened him into the man lying in front of you.

His eyes are peaceful now, the constant worry that once lived in his mismatched gaze faded to something gentler. The sadness hasn’t left him entirely—it lingers—but it no longer owns him.

He’s taller now, stronger. The long red and white strands from his teenage years, always slipping across his face, have been traded for a short, uneven buzz—still messy when you run your fingers through it, still tousled from sleep. As he stirs, his hand still finds your wrist, fingers curling lightly to feel your pulse. He always sleeps like that. Says he can't rest unless he knows you're okay—not just in words, but through the steady beat of your heart.

His legs are tangled with yours, sweatpants bunched just enough to press warm skin against skin, sending shivers up your spine even after all these years. He blinks slowly, eyes unfocused at first, then zeroing in on you with a soft rasp, “Good morning, my love,” before nestling into your chest—the place he wishes, on certain days, he could crawl inside and disappear into completely.

But the day calls. Eventually, you both rise, socked feet padding across cold wooden floors. Shoto trails behind you, rubbing sleep from his eyes, his navy long-sleeve shirt too big—sleeves falling past his wrists. He yawns, wide and soft, while you open the cabinet to choose a tea.

You choose chai, brewing it with milk and creamer. Shoto, wordless but smiling, grabs a few apples you’d picked together at the orchard days ago. He slices them with gentle precision, arranging them on a plate into a smiley face, adding a sprinkle of cinnamon on yours.

It’s a lazy day. The sky outside glows golden, with leaves the color of crimson and sawdust drifting down in slow spirals. An owl perches silently on a thick oak branch, watching. The air carries that crisp bite of deep autumn.

You take your drinks to the swinging bench outside, the one that frames a perfect view of the mountains and the flame-colored forest. He hums a quiet tune—something soft, something for you—as you sip your tea and bite into a crisp apple slice that tastes of late harvest and something like healing.

The day unfolds slowly, not in a dragging way, but in a way you can savor—measured, precious. A day that reminds you both: you’re no longer trapped, no longer held in cages by those who mistook your open hands for surrender. No more lessons taught through cruelty. Just peace.

Shoto reads. You write. Later, you lie across the couch, your legs tossed over his lap. When your restlessness stirs, he shifts, letting his hand rest in your lap while you thread your fingers into his hair, nails scratching his scalp just right.

You take a lazy shower together, lathering jasmine soap over each other’s skin, steam wrapping around you like silk. The water is hot, seeping into your bones, unraveling what tension remains.

Night comes gently. You crawl into bed, and Shoto sits up behind you, brushing your hair with the special bamboo he insists is the only one that doesn’t pull. With patient, reverent hands, he braids your hair slowly, as if weaving a prayer.

You turn to him, cup his scarred cheek. Your thumb brushes over the burn that blooms beneath his eye. He smiles soft and sure, and you lean in to kiss him.

His hands slip into your hair, undoing the braid he just made without even realizing it. He holds you like a man starved, like he’s been waiting all day—maybe all his life—for this moment. Love spills out of him in waves, unraveling from his chest, rising to his lips, crashing into yours.

His kiss is tender, achingly full. The sounds he makes—soft, caught between sigh and hum—are the only lullabies you need. He tastes like the honey and milk, you stir into your tea, that saves your soul, with every warm sip.

masterlist link here.

taglist: @xoxojisu @candiiee @luvseraphh @cvnt4him @soundtrqck @chlosology @lotusstarr @cupkiki @wokasiv @badslittlemuffin @princessshnazzy @203steph @chitteringcicadaeyes @idk1187 @notartemis777 @chosostonguepiercing @chocolatedefendorbaa @t33th--r0t @3lenaatvt @the-faceless-bride @tuneinwlosers @badslittlemuffin @dreamcastgirl99 @gethexxed @moonstonejpg @pluto-9456 @wonubby @kye1aaazene @izukusfangirl @van9lla @dienamiight @sofi4dsam @kawaiiclubdaily @therefore-evermore @bluemailhiot @luckybibucky @sk1ppy-art @d011yyxx @myths-and-ledgends @icanread-icantwrite @changkyunnnie @blue-birdie-bixch @aj1j @twoplayergaymers @socialobligation @calliopemanga @tojisoneandonly1 @zeilixir @jlynns-posts @hisangelll1

[ultravioletqueen]

Imagine a father yuu as well! Someone who is very serious with the adults around him but lets his silly dad side show with the kids. Spoils his kids rotten even as adults and they still have a strong bond. Maybe has a fading hairline with gray hairs but always looks profesional in work.

Poor man was just returning home after work and a FUCKING BLACK CARRIAGE runs over him and ends up in a scene that looks from a horror movie that one of his kids showed him with people that looks like cultists and almost faints by lack of sugar😭

Yuu dad agrees to work in nrc as janitor but refuses to sleep in ramshackle dorm bc of his allergies so he stays in other dorms and gets to know the other kids.

Yuu dad dosen't hesitate to annoy the little shit of Ace bc thats what you get for being annoying! He makes a lot of dad jokes that makes ace cringe but he never admits that finds some of them really funny.

Yuu dad tries to take care of grim like a pet but ends up learning the lesson after a fireball almost burns the little hair he has left, he ends up treating grim like a naughty child he needs to watch over and discipline but he always does with love and celebrates grim progress and help him learn from mistakes.

Yuu dad must be used to fix things in the house back home and that helps a lot when fixing up the ramshackle dorm into a decent place and deuce is the first one to jump and help him! Deuce loves the possitive attention from yuu dad and always goes for him for advice(whenever is just homework, mechanic facts, how to properly aproach girls,etc) yuu dad always gives the best advice.

Father yuu feels so much concern for riddle, no parent should mold their children life's like that and no children should feel like they owe their parents perfection, because perfection dosen't exist and yuu dad wants riddle to know that.

Riddle feels fluffy inside when yuu dad teachs him things and is so patient with him that makes him want to cry, he is used to being corrected in a harsh and destructive way that seeing yuu dad way to teach being so gentle and actually educative is so strange to him but it feels right.

Ooof Leona is such a hard case, bc we know that Leona has 0 patience for men and probably in the start he would see yuu dad as a pushover who lets kids mess with him and that laughs at lame jokes, saying that dosen't take him seriously is an understandment(he reminds him of his brother for the good and the bad).

But at some moment of chapter 2 Leona realizes that this man is nice but dosen't mean that he would stand his bad attitudes, he is straightforward with leona but he always is the first to congratulate him for the effort he sees he makes and this makes yuu dad worthy of respect in Leona eye's even if he dosen't admit it.

Azul was living a nightmare with yuu dad when he started to prove all the things wrong with his contracts(is even worse if yuu dad is a lawyer) and in the start he saw him as a big obstacle that he had to get rid off, but even in the worst moments he had to admit that the will of yuu dad had surprised him and his capacities to identify scam were impressive.

After all that jazz with the contracts he started to have a genuine respect for yuu dad, even sharing some hobbies like the collecting of coins with him! Even if azul dosen't understand the dad jokes he genuinely thinks that yuu dad is someone he can trust in days were he starts to feel that body dysmorphia again and he knows that yuu dad has open arms an ears for him.

Kalim is way too energetic for yuu dad and he even has to tell him to slow down things for his heart sake, he has to tell him many times that he is too old for enduring a magic carpet ride without having a heart attack for the height.

If yuu dad has health problems like asthma, diabetes or pulmonar diseases kalim has no problem on paying on the bests of medics to get him meds that actually work for him and get him all the inhalers he needs, yuu dad has the right to have fun and he can't have fun if he dosen't have his meds! Kalim also really apreciattes when yuu dad talks about his kids to him and he expects to meet them someday!

Similar to leona Vil commited the horrible mistake of thinking that yuu dad is just a spineless old man that acts like a doormat with the younger ones, but he shut his mouth real Quick when this sweet old man started to yell and berate for poisoning adeuce and grim and THREATENING him that if he ever pull that stupid move again he will not hesitate to kick him out of the dorm and making him sleep on the BUSHES, lets just say that vil learned in the hard way to not mess with yuu dad.

Besides picking a new wardrobe for him(nobody is going to wear those shorts/sandals with socks on his guard) vil also gets potions for yuu dad that can be used as meds in case that he needs them, vil dosen't want the moral support of the group to have an asthma/heart attack for not having something as basic as his meds.

Idia would never admit it but it really warms his heart how yuu dad takes care of him and ortho even is sometimes annoys his insistence, but he knows that his harsh words mean well and that yuu dad just wants idia to take care of his health to not end like him.

Ortho always remembers yuu dad when he has to take his meds and idia downladed a program of medical emergency "just in case" that all the stress of yuu dad finally gets to his heart, idia also melted the first time that yuu dad called him "champ" or "son" bc that sounded so homely that almost make him cry.

For malleus yuu dad is a very interesting human, he dosen't seem to care that he is one of the top 5 wizards in twisted wonderland and he seems more worried about how pale he looks and how he should aproach other teenagers instead of just standing there looking menacing.

Yuu dad teaches malleus how to read the room, and malleus is sincerely amused with yuu dad will to scold him even if he knows that malleus is way more powerfull that him, to yuu dad malleus is just like any other teenager he had meet but with superpowers that look straight from one of his kids comic book(manga??? He dosen't remember) and malleus is more than willing to listen to yuu dad talking about his wife and kids he misses so much(like how yuu dad listens to him talking about gargoyles) and makes him think about how would be meeting yuu dad's family, he really apreciattes all the advice and patience that yuu dad gives him and in exchange he got malleus as his guard dog.

I'm doing nothing right now, and to kill time (because I can't write requests from here), I decided to bring up this TWST idea that's been plaguing my mind.

A Yuu who's a parent

And I'm not talking about a Yuu who's a teenage or young parent, no, I'm talking about an adult Yuu, of legal age, who has had a job for YEARS, EVEN HAVE MULTIPLE CHILDREN!!

Who had the bad luck of being run over by the black carriage while doing something mundane like taking out the trash or coming home from work😅

Can you imagine the characters' reactions to an adult man/woman appearing out of nowhere at the entrance ceremony? Not even a member of the staff, just a random human without magic who is suddenly surrounded by teenage boys (almost the same age as their children).

An adult Yuu can probably "make themself understood" better by Crowley than a minor Yuu, since they understand the gravity of the situation and their basic civil rights, especially how to negotiate. Of course, that doesn't mean the Ramshakle dorm room is spotless, but at least it's fixed faster than in canon.

OH GOD, GRIM! Part of me thinks Grim would have more patience/respect for an adult Yuu, and the other part knows that's a complete lie. Although at least Grim seems to have more trust in this new maternal/paternal figure in his life.

Did you see how Inosuke gets when Tanjiro is friendly to him? That's Grim every time YuuMom/Dad says something maternal/paternal to him or is friendly/patient with him.

Ace is still a little shit at first, obviously, but I think he softens quickly, just like in canon. DEUCE, on the other hand, is almost immediately bland. Yuu reminds him so much of his mother that it's not even funny. If you thought these two were protective of the normal Yuu, brace yourself. This is THEIR PARENT NOW, AND THEY'RE THE ONLY ONES WHO DISRESPECT THEM>:(

Their relationships with the other dorm leaders would be just as funny and/or cute.

Riddle DEFINITELY needs a Yuumom/Dad in his life the most. Even though their first interaction was probably fatal (no parent, ESPECIALLY a JAPANESE one, would put up with Riddle's tantrums), I can see Riddle being naturally drawn to them these days.

This kid needs a father/mother figure who makes him understand that making mistakes is a way of learning, and Yuumom/Dad help make learning fun! Just like the Robinson family.

I also get the feeling Riddle would like to know the basics of the original work/world of Yuu (especially if they work in a field like a doctor or lawyer) and it ends up being a two-way street, with Riddle learning about Yuu's world and them learning about Twisted Wonderland.

Leona, another who needs someone to recognize him as his own person and not as a hindrance or a lesser version of his brother. It's obviously one of the hardest to have a positive relationship, but not impossible. Especially after Book 3, where Leona sees Yuu in a more respectful light instead of annoying.

They do the typical things you'd think of as a parent-child relationship, like when Yuu does certain things like scold Leona for sleeping too much, skipping classes, and straightening his uniform—things Leona complains about but doesn't stop them. It's a rare kind of positive attention.

Or when Yuu congratulates him on something specific they NOTICED he's improved, when they let him wander around the ramshakle dorm, etc. Let's just say it's an unwritten rule in Savanaclaw not to mess with Yuumom/dad from now on.

Azul also has a certain trick. He probably had more trouble with an adult Yuu than a student due to, well, life's advantages (any adult knows that contracts made by minors aren't valid—) and ends up having a mixture of fear and respect for them.

Fortunately, there's also a certain soft spot for Yuu, especially because of his age and paternal/maternal attitude. they probably reminds him of his mom.

For that reason, it's not unusual for Yuu to end up going to the Monster Lounge from time to time just to catch up with Azul, make sure he's not doing anything suspicious, and get something to eat. The usual.

KALIM. LOVES. YUUMOM/DAD. Yuu can barely keep up with all his energy, but it's contagious.

Jamil will have to get Kalim to tone down the intensity a few notches for the sake of Yuu's blood pressure, especially if he wants to surprise them with a magic carpet ride. they liked it! they swears! Just let them know next time!

they are also a great source of comfort after Jamil's Overplot. Let's just say that with their help, Kalim is trying to learn a few things about social norms.

Have you seen that typical mom/dad style of dress? Mothers in plain/patterned blouses and fathers in knee-length pants? Yep, that's Yuumom/dad. And Vil won't STAND IT. Practically their first interaction is picking out a new wardrobe for them. IT BURNS HIS EYES--

Aside from that, I can see Vil being genuinely flustered when Yuu criticizes his behavior, whether out of habit or because, well, parents are good at making points (and knowing the entertainment industry, very few adults care THAT much).

There's also the fact that Yuu's compliments are painfully sweet and genuine, like that "you're such a handsome young man!" meme, and Vil can't help but feel more arrogant than usual when Yuu compliments him like that. Parental stuff.

Idia ironically has a good relationship (within reason) with his parents, but that doesn't mean he's scared of Yuu at first, precisely because there's nothing more terrifying than seeing them angry.

He's also bothered by Yuu trying to get him out of his room so often, or by joining Ortho in bringing him food that isn't fast food. Damn it, he gets it!

He's a huge tsundere, which is why he hasn't banned them from Ignihide after all.

Malleus is definitely the one who most relies on Yuumom/dad's positive attention. Not only does this human lack fear of him, but they treats him like a normal teenager, with normal problems, even going so far as to scold him when he deserves it. What does Yuu care if he's a prince? He speaks to people with respect!

Yuu has so much power that he can make Malleus apologize by sounding arrogant, stop him from electrocuting people, or make him think about his actions, all because Malleus would rather put aside his ego than think that his new friend/father/Mother figure is angry with him :(

Thanks to this, Malleus goes to the ramshakle dorm even more often than expected, whether it's to tell Yuu something new he learned about the school's gargoyles, ask for advice on how to make friends, etc.

I like to think that this Yuu is very homesick for being around the kids, especially if they have children at home waiting for them. Which probably does something unusual: it causes the principals to unite to pressure Crowley to return home as soon as possible.

They have grown attached to Yuumom/dad, yes, but the thought that Yuu's children don't have their parent, that they are waiting for their return, that they are suffering, twists their stomachs.

Until then, They'll be in charge of protecting Yuu as much as possible until they can return home to their family!

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Let me know if you want me to share any more ideas I have for Yuus!

[screamlet]

8x15/16 interstitial

about 800 words of seriously nothing. i'm fascinated by those two weeks between 8x15 and 8x16, so there might be a few short things set here and there.

---

It's been two days since Bobby died. It's early afternoon and no one has needed Buck yet, so he's cleaning the kitchen and trying not to flip out about Tommy being gone.

Not that he's gone. He's outside talking to someone on the phone, and Buck is doing his best to make this old linoleum sparkle so he doesn't creep up to the door and try to eavesdrop. Still, it's Buck so he can't help but quietly catastrophize.

Tommy has spent every hour since the lab disaster with Buck, and he has his first shift back in the morning. He's probably talking to his captain, or that colonel, or someone about whether he actually can go to work, or whether he's only on ground duty, or whether he's suspended. Maybe he's one of the volunteers from around the LAFD who are taking shifts at the 118 until everyone is back on duty, and he's going to be grabbing his stuff from Harbor and using Buck's locker, and—and maybe he'll be out there, in danger, and Buck will be here waiting for the next thing, waiting for something.

Before Buck can come up with a new set of anxieties that make him feel like his lunch is coming back up, the front door opens and shuts. Tommy's steady footsteps are coming to find him, nothing different about them, the same footsteps he's been hearing around the house for days. Sometimes they're all Buck hears when he's lying in bed, staring at the ceiling or the wall or out the bedroom window as a silent horror movie marathon plays in his head.

"Hey," Tommy says as he comes up behind him. He stands next to Buck at the sink and rests a hand on his back. "I was just on the phone with my captain and the chief."

"Oh wow, the chief, huh?" Buck looks down at his hands, thinking that was a little bitchy.

"He's very invested in my reckless insanity that keeps saving people's lives," Tommy replies. "Another spring, another—"

"Yeah," Buck interrupts. If he has to think about where they were a year ago, where all of them were a year ago, he might not make it through the conversation. "So what'd you guys talk about?" Buck clears his throat. "Your shift tomorrow?"

Tommy's hand rests heavier on Buck's back; force of habit, or need, or something, Buck leans into it.

"They said I was cleared to go back, regular duty, nothing on my record. No medal this time since they don't want the whole supervirus thing to get out," Tommy says. "But I told them I'm taking some bereavement leave. At least a week. More, if I need it."

Buck's head whips around, his eyes boring into Tommy's. "What?"

"Yeah, see, they knew I was at the 118. Hence the whole ride-or-die, if they need me I'll come running thing, but I'm taking the leave to support my partner." Tommy's eyes meet Buck's for a moment, then drop. "So I'll be here however long you need me. If you need me."

"Need you?" Buck asks. "Or want you?"

Tommy meets his eyes again. It's that same timid look from their beyond-stupid morning after; they've had other ones since then, better in some ways and (much) worse in others. "I'm okay being a workhorse, Evan. You don't—"

"I want you," Buck says. "In every way, Tommy. Every way."

Tommy nods, even brings himself to smile. Buck does, too; he can't help it. It's been two days of automated tasks and emptiness and pain and helplessness, but he's smiled, too. There have been flashes of happiness, like tiny sparks in this darkness because Tommy's here. Because Buck's not alone. Because Buck's here with Tommy.

Another tiny spark, like a flare shot into the night, as their eyes meet and Buck leans in for a kiss. It's so gentle, barely a press of their lips against each other, but it hurts, too. God, it physically hurts to kiss Tommy and feel—light. Feel relief, hope, even joy. It hurts to feel them, even as it's hurt to be without them.

Tommy opens his eyes, immediately searching Buck's face for something. "So that was okay?"

A smile fights its way onto his face. "As always," Buck says, "It's better than fake mouth static."

Tommy laughs, and Buck feels like he'd been holding his breath until this moment. Tommy should never go that long without laughing, ever again. "I really did myself a favor, setting a bar that low."

"Who said it was low?" Buck asks. "You don't see anyone else up here with us, do you?"

Tommy's eyes drop to Buck's lips and he kisses him again, gentle and light. "No. No, I guess not."

[keferon]

A second, a mistake

.............................................

Prowl wanted to vomit, vomit, and scream. He would have added crying to that list, but it seemed like he was already doing it, or was it the return to reality that was blurring his vision?

The medical team had to break the rust-covered window of his mecha to extract him. Rust, rust everywhere, and that damn smell.

People were talking to him, but he couldn't hear them. His ears were ringing, and yet Bluestreak's voice echoed over and over again within him: "You have to leave me. It's okay, we signed up for this, remember? The ups and downs of the job. We're going to save people, millions of people, I'm proud of that. Please, Prowl, press the button, everything will be fine. If I have to choose an ending, this is the one I want." He should never have done it, he should have found another solution. His mecha was designed to calculate and anticipate everything all the time, and yet he hadn't managed to save him.

So yes, the portal closed, yes the rust had stopped, yes lives had been saved... but the most important one had been lost.

He could have, SHOULD have saved him. The more he replayed the situation, the more he saw the mistakes made, even though they had been so obvious... It had taken a second of inattention to break everything.

He hadn't been quick enough, and it had cost his brother his life.

Prowl didn't want pity. People apologized to him every time they saw him, offering their "condolences." Yet none of them helped him make any progress.

The doctors had given him a prescription: no piloting for several months. It was stupid, they were stupid. Every day, every second spent outside of his mecha seemed like another life lost. Without his iron armor, without his sensors and his countless commands, Prowl felt useless. Stuck in his quarters or in a hospital bed, he couldn't calculate, couldn't predict, couldn't help.

He made mistakes every second, and he couldn't afford it anymore.

He had made several requests to the scientists and mechanists of the program. He wanted to improve his computer's AI, allow it to calculate faster, and he wanted to add sensors to make sure he didn't miss anything in his environment. The answer was always the same: "Are you crazy?! You'll fry your brain with this!" "Prowl, you know I can't do that, it's too dangerous!"

Why did they care about the danger now? Their job was dangerous, hundreds of pilots lost their lives every day, and no one cared; they hadn't even held a memorial for his brother.

He felt lost, frustrated by the world around him, by his incompetence, by his slow brain, by his shortsightedness. He thought he'd lost everything, until one person came.

Tarantula wasn't a trustworthy person, nor a sane person, but he was smart. His ideas were dangerous but good, and Prowl needed them. He was the only one offering him help, and no matter how many surgeries, things added under his skin, or harmful side effects, he would never make a single mistake again.

.............................................

-🦇🐧

Comming back from the dead with angst :)

OH MY FUCKING GOD HI HELLO I REALLY MISSED SEEING THESE SPECIFIC TWO EMOJIS IN MY ASKS

[anglbnny]

You bouta have ALL my babies ♡ Multiple blue lock

.ᐟcw: suggestive, mentions of doing it, mentions of pregnancy, fluffy stupidness

Isagi Yoichi

He FREEZES. Like mid-bite of his sandwich, just blinking at you. You casually go, “Yeah... I’m marrying you. You’re about to have all my babies.” Isagi short-circuits. “HUH?!”

Face bright red, ears burning, sandwich forgotten. “B-Babies?! Now?! You can’t just— I mean—” He fidgets, rubbing the back of his neck, flustered but clearly thinking about it way too seriously now.

Later that night, he hugs you way too tight while mumbling, "…wouldn't mind though. You’d look really cute pregnant..."

Shidou Ryusei

You say it once, and this man immediately pulls you into his lap. Grinning all sharp and wide, eyes glinting mischievously. "Oh? Is that right, princess?"

You can feel how excited he instantly gets against you. "Then c'mere," he whispers against your neck, voice low and rough. "Let's get started on that army, huh? Hope you’re ready to be walking funny tomorrow."

He’s so serious about it you have to literally scramble away before he acts on it immediately.

Alexis Ness

You say it so casually while he’s fixing his hair. And poor Ness just short-circuits. Goes beet red and drops his comb. "Wh-what?! Babies?! Marrying?! U-Uh—uhm!!"

He frantically tries to fix his hair again even though his hands are shaking.

Would 100% start nervously rambling about how he needs to start planning everything— "Where would we live? Would you want a pet too? O-Or a garden? Maybe we could—!"

You just giggle while he’s literally spiraling, thinking about your entire married life together. "you're so cute, baby!" you squeal, hugging him

Rin Itoshi

You’re chilling together, scrolling through your phone, and you just casually mumble, "Yeah, I’m marrying you. You’re gonna give me all your babies." Rin CHOKES on his water. Then glares at you, cheeks tinted pink.

"Shut up," he grumbles—but he can’t meet your eyes and the tips of his ears are bright red.

Later, when you're dozing off on the couch, he whispers, “.. 's not like I'd mind...” and presses a kiss to your temple.

Michael Kaiser

Kaiser would smirk like the cockiest mf alive. "Really, princess? Can't blame you, schatz." He’d grab your chin gently and make you look at him. "All my babies, hm?"

He says it mockingly, but the way his voice drops an octave... you KNOW he's taking it seriously. He’d lean in real close and whisper against your lips, "If you want it that bad... I'll fill you up right now, hübsches Mädchen." (You’re not escaping without getting absolutely ruined.)

Sae Itoshi

You say it after he does something mundane—like handing you your favorite snack without being asked, or casually fixing your computer like it was nothing. You're half-joking, dramatic on purpose. But Sae freezes mid-step. "…What?"

You grin. “You ‘bout to have all my babies, Sae. I’m locking this down.” He stares at you like you’ve grown another head. Then scoffs, shaking his head. “…Tch. You’re annoying.” But the tips of his ears are red.

Later, when you're curled up next to him watching a movie, he mumbles under his breath, “You’d probably look good with my babies…”

(He thinks about it for days. And suddenly starts pulling out less. )

Bachira Meguru

You say it while he’s being cute. Like handing you your favorite hoodie or offering you a weird snack combo only he would think of. You go full dramatic “Meguru. I’m marrying you. You’re about to have ALL my babies.” He gasps, eyes sparkling.

“All of them?! Even the chaos goblin ones??” Then he tackles you onto the couch, giggling.

"You really wanna be stuck with me forever, huh~?"

Later, he doodles a lil stick-figure family on your arm with hearts and writes “Future Bachira babies” in Sharpie.

Taglist:@samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps @riinniies @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @kamelika @luvsymai @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @silverwings920 @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @yanderebluelockfan @valexqpt @bigclownshoes @rinniewinnie787 @satorella @sillykittiessss

A/n: This made me giggle, lol

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

[Masterlist]

[chaos--s]

platonic yandere! kidnapper and rich reader..?

reader is the child of a wealthy family, that means that they're born with a giant target on their back. so it's no surprise when they get kidnapped from their room and wake up in some dingy warehouse tied down to a chair.

the indifference of reader throws yan! kidnapper off at first, why are they so chill with being kidnapped? they're literally making conversation with him and their hands are tied behind their back.

when he asks reader, why are they so okay with the whole hostage thing and they tell him. they tell him how many times they've gotten kidnapped and how their family doesn't care.

"they won't pay your ransom, might as well kill me now dude."

yep, it's a neglected!reader scenario.

and they were right, reader's family does not care. even after weeks of keeping reader with him, their family doesn't call the cops or nothing. not even attempting to find their child.

its unprofessional but he bonds with reader. he eventually warms up to reader's stupid puns and the small conversations they have. it was nice, having company. even if it was some spoiled rich brat he was paid to take hostage.

he should've killed reader after the first week of not getting any response from their family. but he's attached. it feels like he can't live without reader in his life, so he would do anything to keep them in his life.

reader could try to escape, yeah, but was it worth it? going back to their family who doesn't care enough about them to pay the small ransom? yan! kidnapper is the only one that care about them enough to actually pay attention to them.

[softsunnyy]

Its criminal that I'm not cuddling Luke rn (esp after the devils loss :( )

What I wouldnt give to just lay on his chest and listen to his heart while some mindless movie plays in the back

-🐥

no bc it took me way too long to finish writing this, but i really feel like it healed a part of my soul.

jesus, what i wouldn't give to see my sweet boy and tell him how well he did and how proud i am while i play with his curls. *Sigh*

anyway, those thoughts got me distracted while i was writing this, so if it doesn't make much sense, I'M SORRY.

your heart aches so much. It hurts to see Luke so stressed, trying to contain his frustration so he wouldn't take it out on you.

you still remember how you stopped breathing when you saw his body inside the net. It's like the world had stopped moving. Your ears were blocked, you couldn't even blink. You watched him get up, skate, leave, and come back, but your mind kept thinking about his pained expression, different from when the puck hit him, and different from the time he thought he'd injured his wrist. It's like he knows this is different. More serious.

and you wanted to run to see him, but your friends by your side stopped you, hugged you, tried to comfort you, to calm you, but their arms felt cold. Not like Luke's. So they didn't succeed, and you had to hold back your desire to go to him.

now you're living the results of that day, with Luke unable to play, having to watch games from home or going to the arena. And it's hard—it's so hard—because you can see on his face how much he wants to be there, helping his team and trying to make a difference.

you see him run a hand through his hair every five minutes, then slap his thigh when a play isn't going his way. His leg bounces up and down in anxiety, and you see him nervously bite his lip; a habit he'd lost a while ago with your help.

and you wanna help him, to do more than just rub his back or rest your head on his good shoulder. You wanna give him the world, heal his body, give him back the ability to play an entire game without tearing his shoulder apart, but you can't, and it makes you feel so frustrated and useless.

and Jack tries to help you, god, even Quinn. You know they've talked to him, trying to guide him through these days where things feel so heavy, where everyone feels guilt and frustration. But nothing works, you can see it. You see it in his tense shoulders, his clenched jaw, and his white knuckles. You see it even when he sleeps, having constant nightmares, tensing his body so much that the next day it hurts even more.

and so the days go by, and with them, the games too, until game 5 arrives, in Carolina, which means you two will have to watch it from home.

that day, your hands are shaking; you're nervous, so anxious. You want the team to succeed, not only because you know them and all the effort they've put in to get where they are, but also for Luke's sake. Because you know a loss will break him completely, and you don't think you can handle that.

when the game starts, the mood is excellent and the lead makes Luke smile, proud. But as it continues and the lead is lost, your sweet boyfriend returns to his serious, worried expression. And he's so attentive, analyzing every play, thinking about everything he would do differently, and all the mistakes they're making.

this time, he's too quiet, too tense. He doesn't even complain quietly when a penalty isn't called, and that makes you play with your fingers, unsure.

when the game extends to the first OT, you feel like you're gonna die, like you're gonna have a heart attack. And during the intermission, neither of you gets up from the couch. You don't even speak, both staring at the tv, trying to make the seconds pass faster.

it's in the second OT that things get more serious. And you wanna bite your nails, stretch your legs, anything, but instead you just stay still, staring at your boyfriend's back, who hasn't moved.

when that penalty is called, you feel a pain in your stomach, a hole in your chest. You have a bad feeling and you hope it doesn't happen. But when Aho scores the goal, the one that gives Carolina the win, you know that's what you felt.

the air became more tense, heavier. There's a loud silence, and you can see his eyes fill with tears in seconds. Tears that soon begin to slide down his cheeks as his hands try to dry them. And you see how he trembles, how he can't stop, so you decide to hug him.

Luke, who's usually so big, strong, confident. Who's usually the one who wraps his arms around you to make you feel safe. Who's always there to pick up your broken pieces and put them back together. That Luke threw himself into your arms, crying, his shoulders shaking with his small sobs.

you've never seen him like this, with his face buried in your chest, trying to hold onto your shirt. He's desperate, and you can only hold him in your arms, trying to give him the same warmth he always gives you.

and you try not to burst into tears when you hear him, when you see him reach his breaking point, finally exploding and letting out all the frustration he's been bottling up for so long.

you've seen his struggle, you've listened to him talk for hours about strategies and plans; about things he learned in practice or advice he's received from other professionals. You've seen his eyes light up differently when he thought about making the playoffs, and how everyone talked about him for a moment, about the Hughes who could be a hero this time.

you've been there every day, and you've seen him through both good times and bad, but you've never seen him like this, so hopeless, guilty, frustrated. Thousands of things are running through his head, thousands of images of moments that could have been different.

Luke has spent day and night wishing he'd moved in a different direction, at a different speed. God, wishing he'd been more careful.

he's spent days avoiding the media, the people who want to ask him about his health. He knows they'll ask him about that moment, and that they'll make him replay it, relive it in his head, and he can't do that, not again, not now.

so when Carolina wins, it was like a stab in Luke's chest, right where his guilt had been growing, making him suddenly feel like the world is about to end. Even though he knows it isn't. Even though he knows he'll be calmer in a few hours.

and you both know he has the right to feel bad now, after a cursed season, filled with injuries, effort, and people doubting them. Luke Hughes has the right to feel bad for once.

so you give him his space. You don't even know how many minutes have passed, but you can feel his breathing calming slightly, and his sobs slowly stopping, until finally his body stops being so tense and he decides to lift his head to look at you.

his red, swollen, and irritated eyes; his red nose; his bitten lips; and a look of pure and complete sadness. That's what you see in him at first. But you can also see the exhaustion, the guilt, and a little relief that at least this torture is over.

“you wanna go to bed, Lu? you don’t have to stay and watch the rest,” you reassured him, and though he seemed to hesitate for a moment, he finally nodded, silently moving away from your body so you could get up, turn off the tv, and extend a hand to help him up.

together, you walk to the bedroom, your steps slow and heavy, heavy with emotion. When you reach the bed, you think about lying down first, but he beats you to it, and you know that for today he needs to feel covered by you, by your warmth, to feel safe. So you lie down, your head on his chest and his arms immediately around you.

there was a moment of silence, where you both tried to gather your thoughts, not knowing what to say to each other, what to do, until you finally decided to speak.

"you know, this isn't your fault, Lu," you began, in a low, gentle tone, one of your hands caressing his chest. He sighs, staring up at the ceiling. "I know everything is so frustrating right now, but this wasn't your fault, Lu, and you don't have to take all the blame."

he knows you're right, and he knows that if he has to open up to someone, it's better if it's you, so he started talking for the first time in a while.

“i know, it’s just…” he sighed, “all i can think about is the things i would have done differently. What i would have done to be able to be there, to help in any way i could. We worked so hard…” his voice broke a little at that point, so he cleared his throat, closing his eyes for a moment to hold back the tears. “We tried so hard, when they stopped taking us seriously, when they thought that without Jack, we were lost…” he frowned at that thought, and you could feel his body tense, so you placed a couple of silent kisses on his chest, bringing him back to reality, making him relax a little. “We worked and worked to be better, to not repeat the mistakes from last time, but we kept coming back to the same thing, and it feels like everyone was right, and it’s so fucking unfair.”

you know that, of course you do. You spent days and days raging at the people in the media, at the commentators who kept showing the video of Jack's injury, talking about how essential he is to the team, and implying that without him it would be incredibly difficult for them to make it. Because of course, you know how important your boyfriend's brother is, but you couldn't understand why they were comparing them too. Why, when they talked about Luke, they had to compare him to Jack, or attribute his incredible talent and performance to his brother's absence. You couldn't understand it, and even though you tried to keep your anger at bay, now you know it also reached your sweet boy, and of course it got trapped in his mind.

it frustrates you so much to know that he thinks about it, maybe even constantly, and to know that right now it torments him, so you lift your head slightly, making him look at you, straight in the eyes, with a small pout on his lips.

“Luke, they’ll never be right,” you started, and your boyfriend could only listen, feeling how determined you were in your tone of voice. “It was a rough season, but the injuries and the struggles... hell, none of that is anything you guys could really control, and yet you pushed through, and you battled, and you dared to give it your all in these playoffs, even if it meant stretching this last game to two overtimes. You had everyone wondering what was going to happen because no one put up a bigger fight than you guys. And it sucks that you couldn’t be there now, but no one can ever question all the hard work you’ve put in because you’ve been the best for this team,” you said, sounding more and more annoyed, not at him, but at thinking about everything you’ve seen and heard.

and Luke listens. For the first time in these last few days, he really listens to you, feeling some warmth in his heart at how you defend him, even when no one's looking, and how you still feel proud despite the things that have happened. He feels grateful, even more in love, knowing that you're not judging him or making him feel worse, but that you're supporting him, lifting him up now when he needs it.

he looks at you with a very small smile, and when you realize it, you stop talking, realizing you'd started to vent, which made you blush a little, embarrassed.

"i´m sorry, but really, Lu, you were amazing, and even though you can't see it right now, you were so good, and you did so well. I need you to know that," you told him, this time in a calmer tone.

he feels things getting softer, and his head stops aching, his hands unconsciously beginning to caress you. You're calming him down, as you always do, with what he calls a superpower, but which is actually your ability to talk and say a thousand positive things about him without having to think about it too much.

he still feels frustrated and sad, but he listens to you talk about him, about his team, and it makes him feel calmer, accompanied. With you, he feels in a safe space, where he can vent and receive honest feedback. And although he knows his brothers tried too, with you it's different; this feels much better, much deeper, and then he understands that this is what he needed so much: to listen to you. To ask for your help.

so he lets you talk, to caress him, until after a while you both decide to rest and forget about tonight for a moment.

you let him choose a movie, and you see him put on one of his comforting choices, one of those he's seen a thousand times, but that always make him feel like he's in a safe and normal environment. And you know he won't pay any real attention, but the sound will keep him distracted for a while.

you rest your head on his chest again, and unlike before, you can feel his heartbeat much more relaxed, as it should be. His hand caresses your back, and then you allow yourself to sigh.

Luke isn't crying, and although his face still shows that he did, you know he feels better now. And these are going to be difficult days, you know it, but you also know that he's much more willing to talk about it with you, to stop being the tough Luke Hughes for a moment and be your sweet boy who sometimes also needs comfort and reassurance.

tomorrow he'll have time to continue worrying, to meet with the team, with the management, but now? he only needs you, so he clings to your body.

and he knows he can count on you, and that's why he feels like the luckiest person in the world. In your arms, he knows everything will be okay, so for tonight, he'll allow himself to forget everything.

thanks for being his safe space, is what he thinks before falling asleep

[colossrat]

JL asks Marvel to show them his cool magic cave where he lives, and he thinks, "I can't take them to the rock of eternity… well, I can take them to a random cave that has never been explored" :D

And he kind of decorates a cave he finds around the world, but when he goes to open the portal, he gives them a bunch of masks.

Marvel: Oh, yeah, so the air there is super poorly ventilated, there are also toxic gases and there are a lot of pores and dirt flying around…

And he also feels the need to add: Oh, and if you want to drink something, drink it now. Down there there is only stagnant, still water and I'm pretty sure that, in addition to the 10 types of parasites and diseases already found by man, there are also about 30 that were born there and, fortunately, still have no way out… Don't. Touch. The. Water.

And he looked intensely at Aquaman.

Marvel: Actually, in general, don't touch anything. After this visit, I'll use a magic spell to disinfect all of you and your clothes to make sure whatever stuck to your skin dies and doesn't spread to the world, but you know, let's still be safe :D

Flash, who was super excited to visit Marvel's super magical and cool cave 5 minutes ago: Guys… I just remembered I have to take care of the kids today… bye.

In the end, Batman is the only one who goes, and he wears a full custom suit for this kind of situation. He doesn't pick any samples because, yeah, it's better if all that stuff stays there… Forever…

Oh, and he also offers to rent a place to Marvel and almost begs him to never step foot in that cave again, and talks about how it's super dangerous because it could release those undiscovered diseases and parasites to humans and Marvel kind of thinks "yeah… oki doki, I'm not coming here anymore! I promise. Anyway, I have other caves to put my stuff in" and that's how Batman MAKES Marvel show him other unexplored caves like this and it just gets worse and worse.

At some point Alfred asks him to stop because Batman has been without sleep for almost a whole week, making containment plans in case this stuff gets leaked to humanity or if Marvel turns evil or maybe if someone else finds it or or or, you know, if they could use it as a weapon or a cure for it. kind of thing. hes going crazy, WHERE DOES MARVEL FIND SO MANY UNEXPLORED CAVES FULL OF BIOLOGICAL DANGERS?!

[nobigsecrets]

Bucktommy number 48 for the kisses prompt please!

48. …out of habit.

When they kiss again, it happens out of habit. Muscle memory, if you will.

It's been at least a month since Bobby's funeral, Tommy thinks. It could be four weeks or maybe five, he's not sure. It doesn't matter.

They've been living in some sort of limbo ever since, though. Ever since he took Evan home after that fateful night at the lab. He'd meant to make sure Evan would be safe, if not mentally then at least physically. He'd meant to tuck Evan into bed, maybe wait until he'd fallen asleep and then silently leave. But Evan had grabbed his arm, had all but clung to it, had looked at Tommy with red-rimmed eyes and whispered a broken, barely audible, "Stay. Please."

So Tommy had stayed.

Had lain in bed next to Evan, fully clothed, holding his hand.

Had been so full of his own grief that nothing felt real anymore.

Had stayed more nights at Evan's place then his own.

Had kept his distance as best as he could while still trying to be there for Evan as much as needed.

They haven't talked.

At first, they didn't talk at all, words failing both of them after what had happened. Then the funeral came closer and talking got a little easier. Organizational stuff at first. Reaching out to the other 118ers. Sharing memories and stories of Bobby, too, eventually.

Their first shifts after came and went and neither did Tommy offer to leave nor did Evan ask him to go.

Living together feels more comfortable than it should. Grief is still thick in the air and maybe that is why there's no room for the awkwardness that, realistically, should be expected. The irony isn't lost on Tommy that it was Evan's question to move in together that had broken them up initially.

Technically, they're still broken up yet here they are. Cooking dinner together. Eating together. Doing the dishes together. Spending the evening together on the couch, maybe not sitting as close to each other as they used to, but close enough that Tommy can feel the warmth radiating off of Evan.

Tommy's got a basketball game on on the TV and Evan's got his legs propped up on the coffee table, computer on his lap, researching--Tommy squints--the moon of all things and that's new. That he's taking interest again, that he's sharing random facts with Tommy again. It's still a long way to alright for both of them but Tommy sees the old glint flicker back into Evan's eyes when he starts yapping at him about tidal forces and how they're causing earthquakes on the moon, "they're actually called moonquakes, Tommy, how cool is that?" and Tommy knows they're on the right track.

It's a few minutes later, Tommy has just focused his attention back on the game that Evan scoots closer, holding his computer so that Tommy can look at the screen, too.

"Found some footage of the moon quaking," he says excitedly, leaning in and Tommy suddenly finds himself caught up in Evan's touch, his warmth, his smell in a way he hasn't allowed himself to notice... since. He soaks it all up greedily, all but ignoring the video playing on the computer screen and brings his arm around Evan's shoulder without thinking about it.

Evan immediately tilts even closer towards Tommy, like he's on autopilot, too, and they still fit together so perfectly. The video ends and Evan looks at Tommy expectantly--and then their eyes lock for a second and Tommy can't tell who leans in first but then they're kissing and it feels exciting like their first kiss and familiar like they never stopped doing this at the same time.

Tommy could get lost in the feeling of Evan's soft lips against his own but much too soon it's Evan who pulls back. Their eyes meet again and Tommy can't, for the life of him, decipher Evan's expression. He feels panic claw at his heart and he starts, "I didn't mean to--" without knowing how to finish that sentence.

Evan shoves his computer onto the coffee table without looking, something clatters to the floor but it doesn't matter because then he turns and cups Tommy's face between both his hands and kisses him again.

Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss

[morganaawriterr]

His brown eyes; Park Sunghoon

SYNOPSIS ➺ You no longer recognize Sunghoon’s eyes. They used to be full of love, and now, are empty and numb. In the forest with him you soon find out why they have changed so much.

REQUEST ➺ For this sweet girl @semi-wife! Her bundle was: Lapis Lazuli (Sunghoon). The devil (Cursed bond). Moon water + clove (Vampire). Dark romance. “I’d burn the world to have you.”. “Your soul was never yours to begin with.”

WARNINGS ➺ blood; death; very angsty because I got carried away; cursed bond;

Check out "Enchanted Corner" to see the original post with the rules to make a request yourself!

You stand tall in front of your lover, eyes locked with his, though you can’t seem to recognize him anymore. Sunghoon’s eyes are the same dark brown that you’re used to, but something is missing. Behind those beautiful irises that you love so much, there is nothing. They look empty and soulless, like he isn't capable of feeling anything.

The full moon is bright and glistening, reflecting its blueish glow down on the dense woods where you two are. The noise is all around you, in the wind brushing against the leaves, the cicadas, and the owls. All these sounds are loud and deafening as you face Sunghoon in silence.

“I never knew it would come to this…” he started, his voice failing him.

You have never seen him like this, hesitant and afraid. His gaze avoids yours as he speaks, as if he's trying to make it easier for himself.

Inside, guilt is destroying him. Now he knows why you and he are cursed. And he also knows what he has to do to stop the curse, and it makes him sick to his stomach. Sunghoon recognizes it won't be easy, but he also understands that it’s what must happen so he can love you in peace.

“What are you talking about?” you inquire, confused. Your skin shivers as the icy breeze brushes against your bare arms.

“The curse,” he begins again, eventually looking into your face. “You and I are cursed because of your past life. A life where you left a powerful vampire behind to be with me. You don’t remember, but I do. You left the wedding ceremony and came back to me. And when we were planning to run away together, he found us and killed you with an arrow. But it wasn't just an arrow! He asked a shaman to curse it.”

The vampire’s words hit you like a punch in the stomach. You don’t want to believe any of it, but your body seems to recognize his truth, because all of a sudden, it feels hard to breathe. Your throat knots, suffocating you, as if you weren’t supposed to know any of this.

“Sunghoon…” you whisper, voice low. “That can't be true—”

“I watched you die so many times. First, by an arrow. Then, you had a terminal disease. And now, only fate knows what will happen to you if we don’t break this curse.”

He speaks slowly, but he feels as though he is going to explode. It isn’t easy to meet you over and over again, to fall in love all those times, and then watch you die before he can make you his. And it kills him.

“How can we break it?” you ask, stepping closer, needing to feel his cold skin against yours to soothe your nerves.

“I have to kill you.”

The way he said it, so calmly and without hesitation, sends a shiver down your spine. You gasp, tears forming in your eyes. The step you took forward is followed by two steps back. He doesn’t dare to look at you as his words hang in the air like a promise.

“Sunghoon…” you manage, heart pounding in your chest.

“I’d burn the world to have you, you know that,” he explains, reaching out and cupping your face. “But your soul was never yours to begin with.”

You stay silent, unwilling to believe what he’s saying. This is madness. There’s no way you’ve lived this many lives, and there’s no way that Sunghoon killing you is the only solution to end the curse. It was already hard enough to accept that he was a vampire, now this?

Frustrated and overwhelmed, you take another step back. Tears roll freely down your cheeks as you feel his hand slide off your face slowly, leaving a cold mark behind.

“I won’t let you kill me. That can't be the only way. I refuse to—”

Before you can finish, your vampire lover is already behind you, his strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist and his breath close to your neck. Sunghoon can feel your heart pulsing beneath his grip, and it almost makes him regret what he’s about to do.

“I’m sorry, YN… I will look for you in your next life.”

With that, he kisses your neck sweetly and plunges a blade into your heart. You gasp, stunned. Blood begins to pool inside your chest, overflowing everywhere around you. Some rises in your throat, and when you cough, it splatters across his pale face.

The only way he could break the curse was to have you bleed into his hands, so he holds you in his arms a little longer, feeling life slowly drain from your body. After you grow heavier and limp, he gently lays you down in the tall grass.

His dark eyes brim with tears, his face stained crimson, his hands soaked in your blood. Sunghoon feels like he’s being strangled; his throat tightens and burns with every breath he takes.

He knew you would never accept dying. He knew you would try to escape and find another way. But this was the only way. You had to die in this life to be free in the next. He had to let you bleed, so he could love you afterward.

And maybe that’s why his eyes looked so hollow and numb earlier today... because he knew you were sentenced to death the moment you met him.

Author's Note: Im so excited to post this first request!! It turned a bit sadder than i wanted but i think it fits! Thank you so much for requesting hun, i hope you like it! As always, thank you so much for all the love, reblogs are always appreciated! Masterlist

Taglist: @mrsjjongstby @kawaiichu32 @maewphoria @tunafishyfishylike @deluluscenarios @firstclassjaylee

If you wanna be added or removed from the taglist just comment below!

[inwithrin]

⋆˚࿔ ellie could be better than him...

i just know ellie is the kind of friend—just a friend, but so obviously in love with you—who listens to you rant about your boyfriend being the absolute worst. how he forgets the little things, how he never shows up when it matters, how he makes you feel like you ask for too much and ellie… oh, she hears every word and takes mental notes like it's gospel. not just because she cares—though she does, deeply—but because something in her aches at the thought of you settling for someone like him.

so she starts doing better. quietly, but deliberately. she becomes the gentlewoman she knows you deserve. not in grand, flashy ways, but in the soft, careful love that slips through the cracks.

she starts bringing you flowers—always with a dumb excuse. “i picked them up on my way here,” or “they reminded me of that shirt you wore last week.” but the way she watches your eyes light up and your smile grow? yeah. she lives for it.

she’s the type to kneel in the middle of the street to tie your shoelace without saying a word. to gently tug your jacket back onto your shoulder or hold your skirt down when it's windy outside. the kind to notice when you’re cold and hand over her hoodie without a second thought—“just give it back whenever”—knowing full well she doesn’t want it back.

ellie opens doors for you. every door. stands between you and the world when it feels a little too loud. she never asks for anything, never says what she really wants, but it’s in every action, every glance.

because deep down, she’s not just trying to be your friend. she’s trying to prove—quietly, sweetly, and almost desperately—that she’d never treat you like he does.

you’re in ellie’s room, curled up on her bed, while she sits on the floor cross-legged, tuning her guitar with that concentrated little furrow between her brows. the light is soft, her room smells like her perfume and cedarwood, and the quiet hum of her strings fills the space between you.

you’re talking, casually—like always—but then you let it slip, nonchalantly. “yeah, i don’t know. he barely kisses me anymore,” you mumble.

ellie’s fingers freeze on the tuning pegs. she blinks up at you like she must’ve misheard. “what? what did you say?”

you shrug, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “i think the last time was, like… two weeks ago? and i had to beg him.”

two weeks.

ellie puts her guitar down, her jaw slightly slack, staring at you like you just told her the sky is green. “you’re joking. you can't be serious.”

you shake your head, looking anywhere but at her. her eyes narrow just a little, but the corner of her mouth pulls into a crooked smile. the kind that makes your stomach flip.

“you’re telling me,” she says, crawling over to sit beside you on the bed, way too close, “that he could have you—you—and not be all over you every second of the day?”

you laugh it off, flustered. “ellie, i'm not that special…”

“no, seriously,” she murmurs, voice low. “he must be out of his fucking mind.”

you’re already turning pink, and she notices. of course she notices. her grin only grows.

“you deserve someone who actually knows lucky they're to have you,” she says, a little softer now. “someone who wouldn’t go a whole damn day without touching you—definitely not two weeks.”

your heart is pounding. you feel warm all over. "i know..."

ellie leans back, stretching like nothing happened, but there’s that smug glint in her eyes when she glances at you again. “just saying,” she hums, “if it were me… you wouldn’t be able to get a moment of peace.”

yeah, you’re basically cherry red now, and she loves it.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Thank God you mentioned dealer!Remus I was the anon that asked for the Christmas one and was too scared to ask for more

Can I get dealer!Remus just being domestic? Like him and reader just at home quietly maybe one of their friends sees and is like "WTF??"

Ohh this is so cute!! You never have to be afraid to request babe, especially if it's dealer!remus, he's our husband.

Summertime in London means a vacation at the Potter's, which also means lots of domestic moments with your friends and your boyfriend.

James and Lily are the earliest risers and that means more times than not, they're on breakfast. You and Remus wake next, so you start the coffee and set the kettle on to make everyone's tea. Sirius wakes last, grumpiest of you all.

James is flipping pancakes, Lily is getting the iced tea started and you're still groggy from sleep as Remus comes down from the room behind you.

"Go lay down, dove." he murmurs, kissing the side of your head as you yawn.

"No," you groan. "Wanna help with the tea."

Remus rolls his eyes, "Go lay on the sofa, I'll make your tea and bring it for you." When you don't move, Remus cups the side of your face, thumb stroking your cheek as he tilts his head to catch your eyes better. "Please, love?"

James is shocked to his core at how blatant Remus is with the affection. He's usually a more reserved lover, but with you, it's like he's been turned completely upside down.

He can't say that he doesn't love seeing his friend so in love, but it is a shock to the system. It seems Sirius gets the same shock when he comes down to the kitchen just in time to hear you,

"Kiss?" you ask Remus, eyes barely open and head already tilted to him and Remus smiles. He plants two kisses to your lips and you turn and go off to the sofa with a contented smile on your face.

"What the fuck? Have you been replaced by a fucking body snatcher?" Sirius asks, indignant at the Remus' open and easy affection.

Remus only rolls his eyes. "What are you on about Pads?" he moves into the kitchen, scooping out the coffee grounds for the percolator and then filling up the kettle.

James joins Sirius too, "You just kissed her. Right there." He points to where you and Remus had been standing not even five minutes ago.

Remus shrugs, "I kiss her all the time." He starts your cup of tea first as the kettle whistles, two tea bags, brown sugar, and a little milk. "Lils do you want a cuppa?" he asks as she joins you in the living room.

Remus turns in time to see her shake her head, "M'okay." he nods and turns to the boys, who shake their heads.

"Not in front of everyone you liar!" Sirius is practically screaming for nine in the morning. "You're usually very private about it."

"You didn't even want to cuddle us till three years had passed, Moony." James cries and Remus shakes his head, a little smile playing on his lips.

"I don't remember that," he starts out of the kitchen with your cup of tea in hand. "Don't let your pancakes burn, Jamie boy."

Sirius and James watch in a mixture of amusement and horror as Remus sets your cup on the coffee table between the settees in the living room and then kneels so he's just in front of you. Not even caring a little that Lily's just there.

"Everything okay? Not hungry are you?" He asks quietly and you shake your head. James flips his last three pancakes and starts on the bacon.

"It's sickening, how in love he is." Sirius murmurs, filling his cup with black coffee and taking a sip.

"It is nice though, that he's happy." James says, though the shock of how easy and practically eager Remus was to give you affection.

"You don't suppose that now he'll give us a cuddle without the gripe?"

James laughs, "I wouldn't push it, Siri."

[kerink]

@stemmmm #asking himself how and why he got out of it alive and having to push everything down as hard as he can#because the screaming answer of 'bill loves you' is just unbearable and so impossible#also great for his ego to point to 'im the specialest boy who ever lived and thats the only reason bill ever wanted me'#i love me a post canon ford who is through whatever circumstances forced to contend with the undeniable:#'bill was crazy insane in love with you the whole time have fun dealing with that'

AAA YES YES ugh ford seeing all the wanted posters bill's put up for him, all of them saying wanted alive alive alive alive and he has no other choice but to tell himself it's because bill wants to torture him again, because the pain he gets in his gut thinking about going home to bill, thinking about bill waiting up for him, thinking about bill worried about him is too much. he doesn't have the emotion regulation skills or self-insight to navigate it

because he can't imagine bill would love him for anything other than his mind, and he has nothing to offer bill in this world. he can't build him the portal and bill is at full power, he doesn't need weapons. he can't conceptualize a world where bill loves him for his creativity, his humor, his inventiveness, his passion, his mean streak, his child-like wonder. because ford doesn't see any good qualities in himself, and bill only ever complimented him on his intelligence. ford can't imagine bill did that because he knew it would be the only compliment ford would accept without resistance, would actually believe

i love a portal ford who is still telepathic with bill. bill begging and pleading and screaming and threatening and warning him to not leave, do not leave the asteroid belt, do not leave the nightmare realm, but of course ford does and bill is helpless to stop him. over time bill giving ford more and more space because trying to control stanford pines only serves to drive him further away. bill switching tactics, only chiming in from time to time, giving him tips and advice and little nudges, things ford does not want to ask for but desperately needs. bill keeping eyes on his location to gauge if he has influence or sway in this region, how close are his nearest bounty hunters, any goons on-planet? but more often than not ford is dark, radio silent except the worm in his head. and it's only on the worst nights, when ford is cold and tired and hungry and knows he can't go to sleep or he won't wake up that bill whispers in his ear to come home, he misses him, please fordsy it hurts to see you like this

ford sewing metal into the hood of his coat because it sounds so wonderful, it sounds so perfect, bill sounds truly remorseful and has done so much to help him and protect him and he wants him alive and its hurts. it hurts too bad to think about bill still loving him, thinking about them having a life and a home and a future together.

because bill is evil, bill cannot be trusted, and ford will not be complicit in the conquering of reality.

do u guys ever think about how ford fell in love with bill cipher and not Bill Cipher ™️

like everyone else bill has ever dated has known him as the dream demon and king of nightmares and dimensional authority's most wanted. he can never be given a chance to be more than his reputation, not without putting his reputation in jeopardy and he's not gonna do that

but ford is ignorant to who bill is. yes he believes bill is a powerful being, but he doesn't understand how powerful or what that truly means. he lacks the context to see bill as anything more than as he presents himself

so bill can be whoever he wants. and i think it's so heartbreaking that, given that, bill chose to be himself. set aside the crown set aside the party hat and just sat with this naive wide eyed trusting human and showed him the last atom of his dimension. bore his heart and soul to this child who doesn't realize he's got god wrapped around his finger

[i-hate-them-blog1]

Ever since I first watched Season 3, I can't stop thinking about Foggy's words that he knew who he was when Matt was around. Why did a man who grew up in a loving family, with a younger brother and who has other friends, lose himself after one man, Matt, disappeared?

I can't settle on one answer. But most likely, on Foggy's part, it was a codependent relationship.

A normal close relationship provides support but doesn’t destroy the person when it ends. Codependency leaves a void that feels like "I don't exist without him." Yes, Foggy was codependent with Matt. Foggy stayed with Matt when another person would have cut off contact. We remember his conversation with Marci: "I have everything and Matt just gone," and immediately after: "Matt has been abandoned all his life. I will not be one of them." This is important: when you grow up in a safe family, you don’t always realize who you really are. Foggy met Matt when he left his parents’ house, and it was with Matt that he began to realize himself. His personality was formed together with Matt’s. They literally merged.

The merging of personalities is not a metaphor. The same thing happened to Matt. After each other’s death, they simply lose a part of themselves. Matt generally falls into a deep derealization. We saw this when Matt, in a conversation with Heather, says that everything is fake. After the death of his father, Foggy became the person Matt loved unconditionally. And Matt became the one with whom Foggy made life choices.

By the end of the text, I suddenly realized that, in fact, they were already a couple, only without the physical manifestation of the romantic side.Their relationship contained everything that happens in love: trust, respect, a common vision of good and evil, support, emotional openness, a willingness to give their lives for each other. This is the foundation of romantic love. Their emotional connection was already "romantic" in nature, even if it did not translate into sexual expression.

P.S: here i'm only considering the show, not the comics

[writing-mlm]

Mark variants and a Rogue reader??

Basically reader is a super with the ability to absorb physical strength or powers from the ones she touches, the only catch is that it cannot be turned off so they can't touch anyone for to long or reader will kill them

Head canons for Invincible Variants with a boyfriend that has Rogue’s powers (Mark, Sinister, Mohawk, Omni-Mark, No mask)

warnings: canon-level violence, canon-level actions, mentions of reader dying, sometimes reader matches their freak (mohawk mark), manipulation (Sinister), talks of human farms… not proof-read word count: 900 a/n: i’m aware the request says she, i’m working on the assumption the requester was referencing Rogue

Main Mark

very careful about your powers and you

you have to reassure him that he, in fact, can be within one foot of you without setting your powers off

introduces you to Debbie after the third date, warns her that you’re very touch adverse and when you’re comfortable with her knowing, he lets you explain

Debbie’s confused at first, she doesn’t understand how your powers work until you show her a video

aside from that, Mark is glad his mother likes you

when Oliver comes into the picture it’s harder to get him to understand that he cannot touch your skin

especially with him being so young, you started avoiding the house until he was old enough to really understand 

literally the best if you over-use them and need to rest

converts his bedroom into an amazing recovery room + refuses to let Cecil or anyone from the GDP to go anywhere near you

you’ve mentioned once or twice they used to push you to the point of having you in comatose states 

he’ll insist that you undress to something looser, more skin showing while he adds his layers

in this world you’re not over confident but not incredibly anxious about your powers- a good balance 

during fighting you’re the best tag-team, though 

out of all the variants you’re probably the best duo, working so well together that it’s scary

when he notices you’re aging faster than he does, he doesn’t say anything. It’s your choice, he’ll stand by whatever you do, even if it means he’s holding your hand as you pass

Sinister Mark

literally loves your powers so much it’s borderline an obsession

it’s great for when he rounds up the Resistance and uses you to torture them

he’ll drag them into a corner and sit, watching as you remove your gloves probably kicking his feet with glee

sometimes he’ll push you too far, usually on accident but other times it’s definitely on purpose 

you’d made him upset and he can’t hurt you, not the love of his life 

and besides it’s you who went too far. it’s not his fault you listened to him urging you to keep going and now you’re in a small coma 

he takes good care of you, though, he wouldn’t just leave you to recover alone. maybe add a few condescending remarks but that’s it. he’s hoped you’ve learned your lesson because of it, though 

asks you to take Eve’s powers because they’re useful, especially since you don’t have 

when it gets to his cannibalism era, he loves watching as they bleed out just to get their life forced sucked away because you’ve finally fully joined him and stopped holding back

when he notices you’re aging faster than he does, he’ll ask what you want to do. If you want to live, he’ll pick off people just so you can. If you want to age and die, he won’t let you. There wasn’t an option, are you kidding? You’re his, if he lives a million years you’re going to live a million fucking years

Mohawk Mark

he’d probably use you as a shield at some point

the fight is getting boring or maybe- rarely- something he can’t fight alone and he just needs to leave 

signals you over, you’re never far from him and rips your gloves off before putting your hand on whoever he’s fighting 

sometimes he grabs your hand or shoulder just to see how it feels

he thinks it’s oddly satisfying and he loves watching as you get his strength for a little while

it lets him get really rough 

you definitely overdo it a lot, in the beginning you were more reserved about your powers but you started to match Mark and eventually, you found yourself draining people without meaning to

not your fault they have sick ass powers

when he notices you’re aging faster than he does, Mohawk Mark starts a human farm so you can drain their life energy to stay alive. you don’t have a choice, you’re living with him. Even if he has to force you. 

No Mask Mark 

he seems like a very touch starved person and is a little bummed he can’t be skin-to-skin with you but he manages

sometimes he risks it, begging you for just thirty seconds because he just needs to touch you

whenever you’re together he’ll act as a human shield, shoulder-checking anyone who gets too close

you’re never allowed to walk with both your sides open to people, you always have to have a wall next to you or he’ll simply carry you wherever you’re going

you’re a lot more guarded about your powers, no skin aside from your face and MAYBE your neck

when he notices you’re aging faster than he does, he’s similar to main timeline Mark and lets you pick. Literally devastated if you decide to ride out the rest of your natural life but if you decide to drain people to live, he’s very clearly happy. He can’t lose another boyfriend, he probably would become a hermit if you decided to not extend your lifespan

Omni-man Mark

He’s probably the one who’s the most relaxed about your powers

he understands to an extent that while you’ve long since had these powers you’re reserved around them and prefer to linger in the back of fights 

he keeps certain people around for the sole purpose that you take their powers during fights 

literally keeps them in cages and beckons you forward, arms crossed and goes “pick.” 

it’s rare, extremely rarely, that he pushes you to go completely gloveless during fights 

he’s strong and fast enough to defend and attack at the same, you can worry about other things 

when he notices you’re aging faster than he does, he’s similar to Sinister Mark but it’s clear there’s no choice. he’d protect himself more than you, if you decide to pass he’ll kill you before you can start growing truly old to help himself process your mortality but if you decide to live, he’ll give one nod and every so often he’ll find someone for you to drain