#edgar is my little tiny baby

[powerlineangel]

i missed drawing himmmm

[vargaslovinghours]

Todd is baby, so - Baby Todd

[fumblingmusings]

okay so I have a lot more to say about the whole fic (I just have very little free time at the moment) but Evelyn asking "May I go?" is so baby girl little sister of her, if I was Alasdair, I would have folded

You got me in my sibling feels. Those two are the best truly. Inextricably tied up together and flip flopping between extreme kindness and extreme cruelty. Baby sister cries very good crocodile tears but big brother has a permanent chip on his shoulder and they do love each other they do but by God those above do not make it easy. Oh gosh I wrote a wee fic. Have a post Norman Conquest Fem!England and Scotland - or whatever they were known as - in 1070. The North is starving, Scotland has the last Anglo-Saxon royals to himself, and the new king wants his nation back.

*****

“Ali?”

“Aye?”

“Are they really going to marry?”

“Think so. Your old King promised, remember?”

“Did he? He didn’t tell me. Edward promised a lot of people a lot of things and look where that has led me… But will he be nice to her? Your King?”

“‘Course he will. And we get a Queen descended from Gods.”

“So they say. Margaret is my last princess. Cristina wants to join an abbey. Edgar will never be allowed to marry. Margaret - ”

“I know. We’ll look after her. I promise.”

“Malcolm better treat her well or I will be very angry.”

“I believe you.”

Despite there being a perfectly suitable mule for England to sit on for this journey south to York, she had instead elected to be carried on her brother’s back. She was nuzzled into his neck, voice muffled against the thick wool of his cloak. She clung tightly, but her eyes were drooping from exhaustion. The road was barely maintained. A foul smell of burning, of acid, of burning peat and manure, had seemingly followed the pair since they had crossed the border into Northumbria. They were still a day's walk from York, and the smell had not yet abated. 

Eva used to insist that Yorkshire was beautiful - full of heather and gorse and sweeping greenery. Alasdair knew she was right, he had seen it himself many times. 

It was almost impressive, if Scotland did not have the weak after-effects straddling his back, noting how destructive this new King could be. Would others imitate such tactics?

They had met very few people on the journey south. Those that remained did not have the strength to trip and rob a pair of children on a long road to York.

Eva shifted against her brother’s back.

“Ali?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you have any food?”

“You still hungry?”

Her tiny head moved against his shoulder. As if by magic, her stomach gave off a terrible rumble.

Alasdair stopped in his walk, bending down at the knees so the eight year old could slide off. He himself was not much older in appearance, a thirteen year old at best. His little sister took his hand, reluctant to let go. She would have to eventually. It had been a deal struck in recent months. The marriage between Margaret and Malcolm was to be accepted by the Norman King. He just wanted to finally see the little nation that he was now King of. No longer just a Duke loyal to a French King, but a King too in his own right. He was owed her.

Scotland did not have the will to fight for her. None of the siblings did. Wales was splintered once more, having cut his first and only King’s head off. Ireland was a sea away, watching and accepting those that came her way, but otherwise taking no action. Only Scotland, with some feeble attempts at pillaging an already broken land, had made an attempt to restore the Anglo-Saxons to the throne. It was not enough, so Eva had stared at her brother, watching as his King agreed, and simply asked that, if she were to return to her people, that Alasdair walk her halfway, to York. 

He had agreed. Those big green eyes were a mirror of mother, and mother could have made him promise anything, if he thought it would have made her proud. Not the case with this wee one, who had the appearance of a small drowned rat. Pitiful, a little dirty, shining eyes. 

In comparison to her brother, who was tall, strong, and with a King who retook the throne from usurpers with such comparable ease. Malcolm had done what Edgar could not. And now Malcolm was taking England's last princess, the others married off to Kyiv or Scandanavia, in his efforts to put Scotland firmly on the map of Europe. It was pragmatic and rather ruthless, but Alasdair could tell he meant well. A strong king was a good king, even if it meant sometimes things got a little bloody.

Looking around the wasteland however, bloody and slaughter seemed as far apart as chalk and cheese. Alasdair could not shake the feeling that he was handing his sister over to her doom, but it was not for him to fight. A threat of invasion from Norman knights was not something he could face alone. One person in exchange for his own safety was something the siblings had all learned to accept. Mama told them: their people come first. Always.

“They burned it all. Everything. Poured salt on the earth and we cannot grow anything anymore,” Eva whispered, clinging tightly to his hand and peering upwards as he rummaged through the bags of supplies the mule was carrying. 

“You’ll still be hungry even after this,” he explained, ignoring her statements, pulling out dried pears. When she tried to snatch one, utterly ravenous, Alasdair held his arm up high, far out of reach. She cried out, hopping from foot to foot.

“Gremlin!” she complained, headbutting him repeatedly.

“You need to ask kindly.”

She pressed her head deep into his gut. “Oh! Alasdair, please may I have some food.”

“Ah, there we are,” he tossed the pear slices up in the air, and she caught them with a squeak, stuffing her face with them and chewing loudly. Her brother was right however, and her stomach continued to cramp. She moaned, forever hungry and forever unsatiated.

Growling in frustration, she went to look through the bags herself. Effortlessly, Alasdair simply picked her up and tossed her back a few steps. She cried out, then ran straight at Scotland, once again ramming her blonde head into his stomach. He puffed out a breath, then grappled with her to stop the tantrum.

“Listen, listen to me.”

She paused her attack, and Alasdair urged, “Look around, alright? Dinnae forget what they did. When we get to York and I leave, promise me. Promise me that you will spit in his eye.”

“That is easy for you to say, you have lost nothing in this mess.”

Eva stared at the muddy road. Her blue dress was ruined at its hem, splatters all the way up to her waist. William would be disappointed, when she would finally reach York, at what his nation was. A little rat.

(A little robin bird, Æthelflæd had called her)

“They say he is a giant. A giant bastard,” England changed the subject with a hiss.

“Did you see him at Hastings?”

“No. I saw Harold’s eye be pierced, from atop the hill. I hid in the trees. They tossed his body out to sea. His mother had asked for it so he could be buried, and they just threw him into the water. I never saw the bastard.”

The bastard. That was all he ever was. Not the English William or the French Guillaume or the Norman Willelm. Just the bastard.

Smirking, Scotland said, “I heard he beat his wife to make her agree to marry him.”

“Ali!” she cried out, snatching another piece of pear away as he held out his arm. “I know he is a monster, you need not remind me.”

“Naw, listen. A man like that will hurt even the ones he loves, you cannae trust him. Okay? So there is nae point in appeasing him. He’ll treat you like nothing regardless. So make not a single effort to even try to be good for him, alright?”

Eva paused, chewing around the pear, then threw her arms around Ali’s waist. He knelt down, picking her up and placing her on the mule. She refused to let go, keeping her iron grip around his neck.

“What if they,” she sobbed, “what if they make me something awful? And everyone says I’m not like you or Rhys anymore but I… I cannot abide the thought of being French.”

Alasdair laughed.

“Come on hen, it’s nae that bad.”

“Look around! Everyone starved! He did not just kill on the battlefield, he did not execute traitors, he burnt and poisoned the land and left my people to rot. There is no honour in this… Ali I haven’t been this frightened since Mama…”

“Dinnae…” he moaned, extricating himself from her grip. 

“I don’t want to be alone.” Huge green eyes blinked at the rejection, fat wet tears falling down her cheeks. 

Unsure of what to do, he had never been very good at comfort, that was Rhys’ job.

“You remember, how dogs and cats get when cornered? They’re frightened but they still fight back.”

“I’m not a dog,” she whimpered.

“Naw. Too ugly for that.”

Eva sniffed, unamused. Alasdair tugged on the mule’s reins, and the two set off once more. England continued crying to herself. Quietly, pitifully, she sobbed, and Alasdair fought the urge to turn the mule around and go back from where they came. 

It would fix nothing. There was nothing that they could fix. 

“You gotta learn to fight back Eva,” he declared, listening to the squelch of mud as they walked along. “That is the only way. Didn’t Alfred teach you that?”

Her cries quietened, and Alasdair heard, rather than saw, her nod. He dared to smile.

“So be sure to spit in his face.”

“...Promise,” she whispered.

*****

Assorted Turn of the 11th Century British History Ramblings Below:

So, in 1070, King Malcolm of Scotland, after a couple of failed attempts to get the last Anglo-Saxon prince - Edgar - back on the throne of England following the Norman invasion, married Edgar's sister Margaret. Malcolm's father, you may be interested to know, was Duncan, i.e. the King that Macbeth axes in Shakespeare's play. Indeed, Macbeth was King before Malcolm killed him and Malcolm was also responsible for axing Macbeth's stepson (you kill my dad I'll kill you etc., etc...). The English, prior to the invasion of the Normans, had helped put Malcolm and his family back on the throne, so the relationship between the Anglo-Saxons and Scottish royal families at this time was quite close. The Normans saw an end to that, when a couple of years later they invaded Scotland and got Malcolm to swear allegiance to Willian and expel Edgar. This oath is the basis for future invasions by English Kings like Edward I and II. In some real cultural fuckery, Malcolm and Margaret's daughter later married William's grandson in a deliberate attempt to pacify the English. Look! Alfred the Great's blood is still on the throne. Please chill.

Margaret is one of the most important Queens in Scottish history, and certainly pre-1500 she is the most important. She was eventually canonised as a saint, and several towns and sites are named after her (if you know much Scottish history you may recognise North and South Queensferry as places of note, and she is deified in my hometown). The royal house Margaret came from held a lot of weight in its name - the family had ties to Scandinavia, Kyiv, Hungary, France and the Holy Roman Empire - marrying her gave the Scottish Crown a lot of symbolic legitimacy. They were the real inheritors of Britain, not the Normans. Margaret named her sons after her male (and English - Edgar, Edward, Edmund etc.,) relatives or biblical names (Alexander and David). Not a Gàidhlig name in sight. Malcolm was apparently smitten by his wife and gave her free reign of the place, at the expense of Scottish culture. Everyone thought she was the bees knees.

Wales at this time had splintered into smaller kingdoms following the death of Gruffydd ap Llywelyn. His incursions into England had resulted in his own men turning on him, cutting of his head and posting it to Edward the Confessor. When Edward died and the Normans arrived, they found themselves with a disunited Wales, and in the following decades the invasions into Wales began in earnest. Many of the fleeing Anglo-Saxon or Welsh lords went to Ireland - this would contribute to later invasions by the Normans of Ireland.

The Normans, by the by, had done the grim action in the winter of 1069/70 of burning and salting the land of northern England following months of rebellions up and down the country. From the River Humber to the River Tees, the Harrying of the North resulted in three quarters of the population either starving to death or being forced to flee north to Scotland or south to the Midlands. There's records of people selling family members into slavery in order to survive, and when the Domesday book was compiled nearly twenty years later to calculate the taxable worth of William the Conqueror's new kingdom, up to two thirds of Yorkshire (England's biggest county by far) was noted as still being wasteland. Even at the time, on the continent we know that within Germany they spoke of a great famine in England resulting in cannibalism, and in Bohemia there was talk of the barbarity committed by the Normans in England, and finally the Pope received flack for signing off on the invasion in the first place, so even for the time people thought it was 'too much'. Back home a chronicler at Evesham Abbey in the Midlands wrote of refugees arriving after travelling hundreds of miles, only to die after eating too much too quickly:

“Every day five or six people, sometime more, perished miserably and were buried by the prior of this place.”

So. Grim. Also yes William did beat up his future wife and threaten her into marrying him, or at the very least yanked her by the hair into the mud then rode off like a dick. Apparently they were very happy together so. No comment.

[mitamicah]

Random story from my life:

So I live in an appartment complex. When arriving home from buying groceries this morning the trash bin for paper and carbon was as total mess - somebody had just handfisted their trash down the throat of the poor trashcan so it vomitted everything up again. I decided to pick up the lose papers and I found a cut up pokemon card. My Käärijä infected brain immediately got curious (who knew if it had been a Bulbasaur card or something similar?) so I looked at some of the pieces and I found this little guy

I have no idea who he is but don’t tell me he doesn’t look like a seal

That settled it: Now I have a tiny bit of a random pokemon card only because it reminds me of Edgar the baby seal x’D

[vex-bittys]

King slithers through the doors, wearing a baby carrier with a hatchling in it. "Hello Vex, i'd like to introduce the other kings to my youngest, Dutchess. It's come to my attention Shadow may have forgotten to tell you all of her hatching." He explains, clearly proud of his little hatchling. He holds up a gift basket "Also i brought some gifts."

In the basket are freshly baked muffins, tiny knitted sweaters, knitted hats for the eggs, and various other handmade things. There's a note from Payt which consist mostly of thanking every staff member for raising King to be such a brilliant skeleton. King is a bit flustered by the note.

The hatchling is only a few months old, and likely a rather small miniature, but she watches sleepily from the carrier throughout the day, and getting rather competetive when she's introduced to the other kings, beeping all her pride

At the end of it, as King leaves, another hatchling pops its head out from his scarf, it appears to be a mamba mix. The little stowaway waves and continues to hide. King may have to answer to a rather panicked Mamba when he gets home!

(Here's the two of them! Scenario, as usual)

*Edgar rushes from the nursery to see King and Payt's little daughter. He accepts the gifts, extremely pleased by the knitted egg covers. These will be especially handy on chilly mornings. He also notices the little Mamba mix and hopes that there won't be too much of a confrontation when King returns home.

*Vex arrives on the scene next, happily cooing over the precious little ones and slipping a vial of Mamba anti-venom to King just in case. The Kings are very impressed with little Duchess, and they all agree that her display of beeps is extremely impressive. They flare their hoods and bow to the proud father and his feisty daughter.

[ohmygodshesinsane]

BORROWING THE BABY

for @jilymicrofics / april prompt 16: father / words: 480

“Madness,” James declares, looking up from the babe in his arms and grinning from ear to ear. Lily smiles back at him, and warmth blossoms where her eyes fall. The little girl nestled along his forearm – Callie, her parents have called her – wriggles slightly, mouth opening as if in question. She’s beautiful. He can’t imagine how Edgar must feel. To have a kid – to look down and realise that this tiny person is part of you and the person you love, that they depend on you, that they need you – it’s dizzying.

“Enjoying playing father?” Lily asks, stepping closer to stroke the rosy swaddling. Callie turns her head towards her. James shakes his head in wonder.

“It’s mental, isn’t it?” he says. “We can just make other humans like that. Just – all of a sudden – bam! New person!” Lily raises her eyebrows.

“Not sure if nine months of pregnancy is ‘all of a sudden’, but alright,” she replies.

“You know what I mean.” In a moment of daring, he bounces the baby just a touch, and is instantly terrified he’ll drop it. He’s not met many babies. He was the youngest of his cousins far and away, and it’s not as if his mates are having babies yet. Merlin, they’re only eighteen. Callie makes a small sound and he freezes, fearing a cry, but it only seems to be a gurgle in the end.

“They are strange little things,” Lily agrees, peering over. He’s never seen Lily with a baby either, and he swallows hard. It’s – well, kind of like Divination, maybe. Ten years in the future, will Callie be their own daughter? It’s ridiculous to think about, really, but it enters his head nevertheless. Lily grins down at Callie. “Are you very odd? Are you really?”

“Are you meant to call the baby odd?” James asks, laughing. Lily shoots him a playful glare.

“Nothing wrong with a bit of oddness,” she says. “Doesn’t stop her being perfect, does it?”

 “Are you plotting to kidnap my child?” Edgar Bones appears in the doorway, stroking his bushy auburn beard, and immediately a toddler hurtles out of the hall and attaches itself to his leg. Edgar doesn’t even blink. James rethinks the ten-years-in-the-future vision. Divination was always a load of rubbish anyways.

“Only until she cries,” Lily says, stepping out of the road. Carrying her like a bomb, James hands Callie back to her father, who smiles instinctively and presses a whiskery kiss to her forehead. The toddler – his son, unfortunately also called James, which has been a great source of humour for Sirius – begins making unintelligible whines and pulls at his robes.

“Thanks for holding her,” Edgar grins. “Hope she wasn’t too much trouble. One day you’ll learn how nice it is to go to the loo without a kid attached.”

James and Lily exchange a look and laugh. One day.

[unlithour]

On Finding Oneself

It seems to me that finding oneself usually requires some sort of journey. I wish more than anything that I could push through the coats of an overstuffed wardrobe and step into Narnia. Fall through the looking glass and embark on a mad adventure.

Or maybe find a wrinkle in time, a way to return and repair my past mistakes; to pass hard earned wisdom on to my younger self. But in truth I'm in my mid thirties and on a budget. So here I am with only a lantern searching in this unlit hour.

Sipping my Blanchard's Dark As Dark blend with the Gallow Dance playing quietly in the background, I sit with the acknowledgment that I will not step through some magic portal. Probably won't even take a trip to Norway to lay in the crisp snow beneath the Aurora Borealis, which would also more than suffice.

I google "how to find yourself" and the results are frankly disappointing. I'm too jaded for positive thinking, too cynical for manifestation, and too cranky for affirmations. I'm reminded of the meditation penguin from Fight Club. *Slide!*

While any sort of grand adventure may be off the table for now, recreating a similar environment to a time in which I was enamored with the world may be a possible step in the right direction. This tiny hope, is in part responsible for my return to Tumblr and to writing. To me they are both relics of 2008, and symbolic of better days.

So I start this low budget quest to rediscover myself by creating a simple list of things I was once inspired by and enjoyed.

Activities:

Hanging out at book shops & cafes

Reading

Writing

Drawing, painting, & mixed media

Listening to new albums

Watching Criterion & Art House films + new movies in general

Playing PS1 games and board games

Visiting galleries, local artist co-ops, & museums

Solo camping

Day trips to other towns, national parks, & scenic destinations

Browsing art supplies at my local art store

Urban walk-abouts at night

Photography for fun

Dressing up for no reason

Live concerts

Researching & studying artists I loved

Paint your own pottery places

Y/A Books:

Mandy / The Last of The Really Great Whangdoodles

The Secret Garden / A Little Princess

The Chronicles of Narnia

The Harry Potter Series

A Wrinkle In Time Series

The NeverEnding Story

His Dark Materials Series

The Newford Charles De Lint Series

The Princess Bride

The Dark is Rising Series

Anything by Roald Dahl

The Light Princess

Wind in the Willows

The Hobbit & LOTR

The Historian

The Shadow of The Wind

Perault's & Grimm's Fairytales

Gothic / Atmospheric Literature:

Wuthering Heights

Picture of Dorian Gray

Dracula

Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe

Music:

Heavy metal, melodic metal, & doom/sludge metal

Dark wave, cold wave, & gothic rock

90's grunge, alt rock, & trip hop

80's synth wave

Artists:

Edward Gorey

Rene Margritte

Aubrey Beardsley

Erté

Marjorie Miller

Claude Monet

Elias van den Broeck

Dorothea Tanner

Edward Hopper

Mark Ryden

Artemisia Gentileschi

Botticelli

DaVinci

Michelangelo

Movies:

Waking Life

Fight Club

Vengeance Trilogy

Spirited Away

Style Wars

Any Art21 Documentary

Edward Scissorhands

Cry Baby

Labyrinth

American Beauty

Train Hopping

Heavy Metal

Dead Poets Society

A Scanner Darkly

Kill Bill Volumes

Any classic Disney animated film (except for the sad ones like Bambi)

Do you have any reading or watching suggestions based on this list? I'd love to hear them.

[carbonateddelusion]

you make your characters genuinely concerned for your well being

I make my characters hate me because they're fully aware I am the cause of literally all of their problems

there are (at least) two kinds of people apparently

I mean, it's Edgar. there is no way he could hate me. he has too little self respect and also I'm literal baby to him and he can't be mad at a teeny tiny baby over a foot shorter than him

[abbatoirablaze]

Just Ben, Chapter 8

Word Count:  1.4k

You follow Doctor Vogelbaum into the room, your heart feeling like it was about to beat right out of your chest.  The little boy didn’t seem to be paying too much attention to you, rather, his attention was solely focused on the doctor who was engaging him in whatever activity he was doing.  

“Please…sit…”

“I-I think I want to stand…”

At this, the little boy looked at you, “You’re my mommy…”

Your breath caught in your throat.  

In all the times you’d imagined a future with Ben, in all the fantasies that you’d played out in your head, you’d always imaged your child laughing and smiling, running about in a back yard or up and down the stairs as he called for one of you…not in what looked like a sterile lab.

It was no place for a child to grow up.  

“She is your mother, Homelander!” Doctor Vogelbaum announced, “she came to see you…isn’t that good news?”

The little boy looked at you curiously, not moving from his spot at the table, “Why?”

“Well because she wanted to see you of course!” the doctor sitting beside him said calmly, “she wanted to see her little boy!”

“Don’t lie to me!” Homelande growled, anger making itself known as he glared at the scientist.  His eyes began to glow, and Doctor Vogelbaum snapped his fingers.

“Homelander.  Stop!”

The little boy’s jaw tightened, and you saw small similarities between himself and his father.  You began slowly walking around the table, curious about him.

“Your father and I always said if we had a little boy we’d name him John…after his best friend who died in the war…”

“John…”

You smiled as the little boy seemed to be repeating the name to himself again and again.  

“Th-the doctor’s told me that you picked the name Homelander…but if you want…I could call you John…”

“John…”

“Can I-Can I hug you, John?”

The little boy stood abruptly from his spot at the table and rushed you, his tiny arms immediately wrapping around your waist. You took a deep breath, shuddering at how quickly he’d adopted the role of you being his mother.  

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” you apologized, your hands running through the little boy’s hair, “I-I didn’t know that you were here.”

“It’s okay mommy…you’re here now!” he said firmly, “you’re my mommy…you’re here now.”

“I-I’m sorry, Homelan-“

“John!” he repeated, cutting you off, “name John…”

“John,” you whispered in response.  The little boy nodded, his head quickly pressing against your stomach.  He took a few small, but deep breaths, letting himself feel like a child for the first time in his life, “Would you like me to tell you a story about your father?”

“Miss.  He doesn’t need to know abo-“

“Daddy…”

“I can tell you-“

“Miss, please refrain from-“

“NO!” he growled, glaring at the young doctor. The doctor immediately quieted down and he looked up to your eyes.  Your heart melted as you saw even smaller little nuances about him that reminded you of Ben.  

“You look like him, you know,” you sighed, already falling in love with how the little boy acted around you, “your father…are you-are you like him?”

“Strong…smart…like daddy…”

“He was strong and smart…he was a superhero…he could hear things and see far away…he was the-“

“I can hear it…”

You froze, instantly unsure about what he was talking about, “Wh-what?  What do you hear, John?  Is it-“  

“You have two…”

You looked to Dotor Vogelbaum, who seemed surprised.  But it was Stan Edgar who spoke, “your mommy and daddy were going to have another baby…you’re going to be a big brother, Homelander.”

The little boy was quick to jump away from you, his eyes gazing wildly at the small baby bump that was sticking out from your otherwise flat stomach.

“No…”

“It’s not your choice, Homelander…your mother is going to have another baby…you’ll be a big brother, and-“

“I SAID NO!” The little boy yelled, his vision turning red.  Two thick, dark beams bolted from his skull and bounced against your stomach, immediately going for the attack.  

But you didn’t feel it.  

As soon as the beams touched your stomach, they bounced back, a heavy white light resonating against them and sending it right back to its owner.  Everyone stared in shock at how the three year old shot back against the wall, his head thudding heavily against it.  

And before you could say anything the doctors were all rushing out of the room, Doctor Vogelbaum pulling you out by your arm.

Your mouth dropped in horror as the little boy got up, a look that could kill on his face as he glared at you through the small window.  

You were quickly pulled away from it, and a few doctors crowded you, checking for any signs of damage.  

“The baby inside of you!”

“It protected her.”

“Her shirt is singed away where the beams made contact, bu-“

“Adelaide,  you need to go back to your room…we’ll come and find you later for evaluation…but for now we need to put some distance between you and Homelander,” Doctor Vogelbaum said quickly, looking to Mr. Edgar, “next time you think it’s a smart idea introducing someone to Homelander, you run it by me, Mr. Edgar.”

“I brought her down so that she could see how well we’ve managed to raise Homelander…she’s pregnant you know…with her second child to Soldier Boy…don’t you think-“

“So she doesn’t have the Compound V running through her veins?” Doctor Vogelbaum asked, “that was the fetus that protected her?”

“We’ve injected her with compound V,” he admitted quickly, “but she doesn’t appear to have any abilities of her own.  What you’re seeing and what we’ve just experienced appears to be coming form the baby.”

“Curious…” he said slowly, “Mis…Adelaide…have you thought about letting us raise your second child as well, for Vought Industries?”

You looked down to your stomach, and you felt like it was turning, “I-I can’t do this…I just-“

“She’s been under a lot of stress, Vogelbaum,” Mr. Edgar pointed out, “she just lost Soldier Boy a few days ago…have some tact.”

“You’re the one that brought the woman down here and showed her that she’s had a secret child all this time…” he huffed, glaring at the other man.  The two men ignored you momentarily, glaring at one another.  It was like they were having their own secret conversation, and you took a step back until you were close to the door.  

Amidst the commotion from the doctors running around, and what looked like Doctor Vogelbaum and Mr. Edgar having a silent pissing contest, you could clearly see that it was an opportunity being pushed in front of you.

You saw how they’d raised Homelander in just three years.  

He was a selfish, egomaniac who was willing to kill you and his unborn sibling because of jealousy.  And as much as you didn’t want to turn your back on your child, you didn’t want Vought to somehow acquire your other one.  

“I-I need your help.”

Gunpowder looked at you, concern lacing his features, before he pulled you into his room and closed the door behind you.  He looked through the peep hole for a few moments before turning towards you, “Adelaide…wh-what are you doing here?  We haven’t seen you in days…Mr. Edgar had contacted your sister saying that you left….her and her husband came to pick up your things just the other day…”

Your brow furrowed, “H-how long was I down in the basement?”

“You were in the basement?”

“Gunpowder…please…”

“A week…Stan said you left once you woke up having heard the news about Soldier Boy…”

“I need your help, Gunpowder,” you begged, clinging to him, “when night time comes…I need you to help me disappear…”

“You’re shaking like a leaf, Adelaide…what on earth happened to you?”

“I-I can’t tell you…but I need you Gunpowder…can you help me or not…please…for Ben’s sake,” you begged.  He looked at you nervously and you reached forward, grabbing his hand and placed it on your stomach, “they’re trying to take my baby away from me…i-it’s all I have left of him Gunpowder…please…help me…”

“Nightfall…”he said slowly, agreeing as the baby kicked against your stomach and you were sure that he felt it, “I have some cash stashed away…but after I get you out of the city…you have to go off the grid…”

“I will…S-Swatto had a place that he bought secretly…in case something ever went sideways with Vought…I-I can lay low there for a while…”

 Chapter 9

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @vmenfangirl, @vyonneeeee

[powerlineangel]

Consciousness

[vargaslovinghours]

Coparenting a baby, now with separate bodies!

[ethereal-blossom]

What do they smell like?

dazai osamu ->

he has a warm scent to him which can be blamed on his bandages.

dazai isn't the one to wear cologne but when he does, it's to leave a good impression on somebody or for a special occasion. he usually goes for the scent that is noticeable enough to smell but soft enough to be pleasant.

his shampoo has a light sweet scent to it which you could only smell when you're close enough to him. the same can be said about dazai's natural scent. having to be so close to dazai to smell his intoxicating smell makes cuddling sessions much more intimate and better.

you still have to convince this man to take a shower every once in a while since self-care is a bit difficult for him. no worries though, if you propose to take the shower or bath together, he's in the bathroom in no time.

every now and then you can smell the hint of beer, alcohol, or/and crab around him.

ranpo edogawa ->

his scent is as sweet as sugar which is caused by all of the sweets he consumes and carries around. if you love the smell of candy, you'll love to be around ranpo. you'd also get hungry a lot!

imagine kissing his crown after the both of you come out of the very bubbly bath together and having the sweet scent of his shampoo tickling your nose.

ranpo doesn't use cologne. there's something about the strong fabricated smell that puts him off. he prefers smelling like a candy store than like a fancy toilet.

his natural scent is much more down-to-earth though. it's a rare scent to smell but once you do, it's a very pleasant one that has a calming effect on you. if you bury your face deep enough in ranpo's face during cuddling sessions, you can smell it.

chuuya nakahara ->

he uses cologne; it's a part of his self-care routine. however, it isn't one of those strong and overwhelming ones. while the cologne has a rich smell, it's a very pleasant and soothing one.

there are times when chuuya returns home and smells like sweat, blood, or both. the best scenario, in this case, is when he just finished his workout. chuuya knows how to pull off the sweaty look and he actually smells quite decent at that moment. the best treat after a workout is if you join him in the shower and wash his hair ;)

you can count on chuuya smelling fresh most of the time though. self-care is important to chuuya so he'll pay attention to his hygiene.

sometimes, especially at night or in the early morning, there's a faint smell of wine around chuuya.

atsushi nakajima ->

he always has this faint scent of freshness around him. atsushi always uses his little bar of soap when he showers but he's very sparing with it.

atsushi's soap is a basic clean scent but if you convince him it's okay to pay a tiny bit more yen for soap with a stronger scent, it's a whole new world for him.

also, convince him it's okay to buy deodorant. atsushi's first reaction is to go for the cheapest. however, i can see him loving sweet scents that smell like fruit or nature.

even atsushi's natural scent is quite fresh and down-to-earth.

yosano akiko ->

like the attractive bad bitch she is.

her scent depends on her mood of the day. if yosano is in a softer mood, she'll likely go for a perfume that has a softer scent that would remind you of flowers. if yosano is in a bolder mood, her scent is going to be richer and more intoxicating. sometimes, she finds a nice balance between the two.

yosano's natural scent is still soft, light, and sweet. it doesn't really matter what time you're around her because she smells good always.

imagine one of yosano's hands having a tight grip on your neck while she gently pushes your face in her neck because "my baby, smell how nice my new perfume is. do you like it, hm?"

every now and then, you catch the smell of red wine around her. and occasionally blood-

edgar allan poe ->

books and ink, that's the smell. it's quite a cozy and warm scent if you're fond of it... book lovers, i see you.

although, when poe is so consumed in his writing that he forgets to take care of himself, please take him into the shower or bath with you.

his shampoo smells neutral, but every now and then you convince him to try a bolder one. if you compliment him when he uses the bolder shampoo, i guarantee you it'll make him blush. it's adorable.

also, he smells a bit like karl, a raccoon.

kunikida doppo ->

he uses deodorant and cologne, but it's a very soft and light scent to the point it almost smells natural. however, there's still a rich scent to it that spoils it is cologne. the same can be said about his shampoo.

kunikida is a man who takes good care of himself, so he definitely has a self-care routine. it's very hard to find this man not smelling fresh. he's always so well-maintained when dazai skips work.

but when you do catch kunikida smelling a bit sweaty, after his workout or an intense mission, it actually makes his scent a bit more attractive-

kunikida's natural scent is almost as soft and light as his cologne but i'd say there's a warm scent added to it which makes hiding your face in his chest much cozier.

akutagawa ryunosuke ->

sometimes he smells a bit metallic... like blood. but that's also the part where the soft smell of fabric softener comes in! and tea, there's a faint smell of tea around akutagawa.

akutagawa isn't huge on showers or baths, so you had to convince him at some point to use more deodorant throughout the day. good motivation for akutagawa is promising you to take a shower with him ;)

because if akutagawa genuinely feels safe with you, he'll feel comfortable having you around in the shower where he is usually so vulnerable without his usual protection.

akutagawa doesn't care much about the scent of his shampoo as long as it doesn't smell sweet. he secretly enjoys it when you choose his shampoo because it has something sweet and caring to it.

lovecraft ->

he smells like the sea.

no matter how sweaty lovecraft is, no matter the strong scent of his environment, you only have to bury your face in his neck to smell the salty sea.

his natural scent of the sea might actually increase when he sweats! so if you enjoy this scent, you can count yourself lucky.

imagine lovecraft knowing you find comfort in his scent, so he pushes your face in his neck while his arms, and perhaps even some tentacles, are wrapped around you tightly before he goes to sleep.

[ninyard]

Heeey what do you think was that made Kevin finally leave the nest?

I wrote like a 2k word fic-of-an-answer to this one my friend but I wasn’t vibing with it! So I’m starting again. But same thing as the last draft of this answer; I think about Kevin leaving the nest ALL THE TIME

~

(“Keep mouthing off like a pair of fucking frogs.” Riko spat in English to them both. When Jean shut the door, “Do you think you’re better than I am?”

“Your ego will kill you someday.” He looked Riko in the eye. “I think you care too much about other people’s success to make yourself look better. You’re building your Court,” Kevin swallowed hard, still trying to hold his head up, gravity failing him as he started to tremble. “But you think it’s just guaranteed you’ll be on it.”)

~

Mandatory CW for The Breaking Of A Hand and Kevin Has Nothing To Live For. See also: the foxes are foxes and their lives are Fucked Up (suicide mention, overdose mention, panic attacks & drug use)

Okay.

Let’s. Talk. About. Kevin.

Idk if I’m allowed to say that Kevin is an underrated character. I really don’t think I am. But if I was allowed to say that I WOULD. I am so very passionate about Kevin I would absolutely die for him and he’s not even real. So let’s talk about his hand.

Can you even begin to imagine what was going through Kevin’s head that night? It looked like practice, then The Master talking about potential, then Riko is mad, then pain and blood and how do I get out of here? Then is it worth it if my life is over?

I think there probably was a minute where Kevin sat alone, covered in his own blood, just thinking there was no point in being alive anymore. His playing hand didn’t really look like a hand anymore, his life and reputation and everything he had worked for just pumping out of his hand and staining his shirt. He didn’t remember passing out but when he came to Riko was gone, and his body was running on fumes trying to keep the pain from overwhelming his system. He probably threw up, all over the locker room, his blood trickling through the tiles, the echo of his own screams ringing through his ears like a non-stop siren. He probably couldn’t really see properly for a little bit and he probably couldn’t move for a while, either. Riko was a foot shorter than him, but he made up for that difference by channeling every ounce of anger and jealousy he felt for Kevin into his feet to stomp the shit out of Kevin’s hand until he knew he would never play again. Jean found Kevin not long later, maybe a couple minutes, or an hour. Kevin begged him to get Riko out of his room. Jean wrapped Kevin’s hand up as best he could, and promised him to deal with it as long as Kevin was there when he got back. Jean had figured he was a flight risk, and knew if Kevin left, Riko’s French personal punching bag would come in handy to take out all his egotistical frustration on. Kevin promised he’d be there when Jean came back. Jean came back to his jacket and wallet missing, a tiny scrap of paper left on the bed, an almost illegible ‘sorry’ scrawled across it. He burned it in the bathroom sink before Riko could find it.

So Kevin’s in his car, and he’s driving. He doesn’t know where yet, and man, is he a hazard. Twice on his journey he nearly knocked out behind the wheel, his head bobbing as the pain begged his body to sleep. He probably had to pull over a couple times to be sick, or to have a panic attack, or both. I know he went through the stages of grief on that drive to Virginia. He probably turned on his radio at some point and laughed, how ridiculous he looked, how dangerous it was to be driving one handed. It took him double the amount of time it would normally have because he just. Had to keep stopping. There’s no way he made that journey in a solid drive.

But also I think he probably didn’t have a plan before he was driving. He knew the Southeastern district were holding the Christmas banquet that night, but that was a secondary thought. His first worry was getting out of the nest. His second worry was whether he was going to kill himself or not. The reason he didn’t just do it? David. The thing that pulled Kevin back off that metaphorical ledge was Coach David Wymack. The only other people who knew about his moms letter were Tetsuji, Jean and Riko. Kevin knew well that none of them would be calling up to break the news to Wymack if he died, and David would grow old and die without ever having known that Kevin Day was his son. David was the reason he was risking everything on busy streets and highways and whatever roads he drove too fast or too slow on.

So, he’s in Virginia without a plan. He doesn’t know what hotel David’s in, if he’s even still in Virginia, if the foxes even bothered to show up. So he looks at as many hotels as he could find. He narrows down the list by looking at the ones he knew the Class I teams frequented, and he called the all pretending to be David, looking for his rooms number. After the fifth call he found it.

Think about Kevin’s anxiety in the elevator, hand throbbing, not profusely bleeding anymore, but every minute that passes is a percentage off the chances he has at keeping his hand and playing again. His heart is racing, his head heavy, every fibre in his being screaming.

David calls out a “Hold your fucking horses, give me a minute!” when Kevin knocks on his door a second time after his first knock received no answer. David opens the door with Abby just behind him, and his face falls so quickly it could’ve hit the floor.

“Kevin.” He looks him up and down, not yet noticing the t-shirt covered in blood he had wrapped around his hand. “Kevin Day. Mind telling me what the fuck you’re doing here?”

Abby pushes past him to unwrap Kevin’s hand. It must be some nurses instinct, to be instantly drawn to looking for an injury on a person. Kevin pulled it back as gently as he could, looking up and down the hall before asking so quietly it almost couldn’t be heard. “Can I come in?”

David makes small talk with Kevin as he shuts the hotel door behind him. What would he say? What could he possibly say to superstar Kevin Day, who he’d only officially met as a baby, when his mother was alive and he wasn’t destined for Court? He probably tried to make meaningless, awkward small talk until Abby shut him up to ask Kevin what happened. He just started to cry. Small whimpers into chesty, heaving, heavy cries, his body teetering on the edge of a panic attack. David had seen his foxes in bad ways before. He’d seen one of his kids convulsing on a stretcher after an accidental overdose, or a fox who’d choked on their own vomit after an intentional one. He’d seen his foxes in their worst moments, panic attacks and withdrawals, anger and sadness, pulling their hair out and on the brink of death. Something about this was the same but different. When Seth first overdosed on the team it was a cry for help, or when Janie admitted herself to the psych ward for a week, it was because she wanted to try. When Damien asked for a second, and third, and fourth chance David gave it to him because that was what Foxes deserved. It took him a moment of watching Kevin heave, snot and spit running down his chin, his hair falling over his face, his body shaking with anxiety, to remember that Kevin wasn’t a fox. Kevin was a Raven, and by god, that was so much worse.

I think we all know that Abby cares for her foxes like she’s their mother, but Kevin is just different. Abby had been seeing David long enough to know how much Kayleigh Day had really meant to him, and how much it hurt to watch Kevin do her proud. Now Kevin was sitting in front of her, his hand practically lifeless, his heart pouring out of every place it could. She tried not to look at David’s face as he paced the room, watching her patch up Kevin’s hand as best she could. Kevin only started to calm down when she handed him a bottle of Diazepam and some water.

And then Kevin whispers that Riko did it. David almost didn’t hear him. He nearly asked for him to repeat it until it hit him. Riko did it. Riko smashed the hand of his number two so badly it would take a long time for him to play again, if he even wanted to. Abby sent him a deathly glare when he mumbled to himself; “I’ll kill that little jumped up piece of shit”.

The rest is history; Kevin passes out not long after, David carries him to the bus, and they drive to the stadium to pick up the foxes. Kevin sleeps the rest of the way until the sun is starting to rise and they’re back in South Carolina. Kevin doesn’t stop crying on and off again for a couple days, and Abby had to hold him back from escaping more than once. After watching his anxiety consume him, and when he told her none of the Ravens were allowed to be medicated in any manner, she got him a script for some quick-acting anxiety meds for him to keep. It took him a week of energy-sapping panic attacks before she could convince him to actually take them as he needed them.

David took out a loan five days after Kevin had arrived into his care. He called Edgar Allan on the sixth, and the seventh, and the eighth day. By the ninth day Kevin was released from the grips of Ravens. By the tenth day they had started the process of making Kevin Day a fox. I suppose it’s for the best Riko fucked up his hand so badly, isn’t it? At least it gave him the ability to fit into the eligibility criteria for being a Fox. Welcome to the club, Kevin Day, and prepare to be gravely disappointed.

[muffindaddystyles]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

Author's note: let's welcome the Christmas season with this cosy smut full of lovin'. This idea occured to me whilst watching one of the friends episode where Joey loves to do girly things. Yes. Your're welcome.

P.S: Requests are always open, don't forget to give feedback and reblogs.

Cashmere scent of opal stone danced inside the snuggly space, perfect warmth doomed around and Amour Plastique playing on the floyd vinyl recorder. You and him sprawled on the twin bed yet squeezed atop of eachother due to it's size, you steal glances of his soft pink hands like that of kitten paws working with the knitting needles with a determined pout and the crease of brows you're eager to massage.

The words you're reading on the tip of your tongue stuttered into void when he shook his knee in the admist of distraction as you're resting your head atop his thick thighs while reading The tell tale heart by Edgar Allan Poe.

Two cuppa of espresso you guys made together in the celebration of british showers outside cackling empty onto floor and his cinnamon breath relaxed your soul, everytime he'd poke his pink tongue out when the pattern would get quite tricky his sweater with three different hues of sky would ride up his smooth skin causing his ferns to weaver.

You flicker a gaze to him when he groans tangling his middle finger with ball of yellow yarn, "'ey baby—no rush, yeah?" You squeeze his ankles covered with your cupcake socksies. Pecking his thigh and turning on your belly to slide your palms under his sweater.

"But wanna see ye' wearin' it on the day of Christmas." He whines huffing with his puckered lips. You chuckled shaking your head at his cuteness winding your arms around his waist and climbing up his thighs with your legs wrapped around his's like a snail, like that of baby panda.

"Doesn't matter every time's christmas time when it's with ye' my baby." You cooed brushing his spindle of curls back and he groans letting his head fall on your shoulder, leaving a little kiss to your exposed clavicles.

He's been attempting to knit a sweater for you from past two months with the help of bunch of youtube tutorials and your guidance, waking you up in the wee of night with gentle sheepish taps when a certain chain went wrong.

It bursted your heart into little shrads of golden glitter. His affection could be too much sometimes that could make you sob into his neck, make love to him in the hours when world's asleep. Give him all lovin' he deserves. The way he makes you feel that of your first dance with him in the empty parking lot, shared sunsets in the meadows and watching movies at seven in the morning. He still makes you feel like that. Gooey, skittish and like a candy floss disappearing into rainbow water.

"How 'bout we take a break?" You suggest him and he pondered over it fumbling with the stray of lilac yarn at the hem of sweater he's knitting for you. "Hm. ye're right, how 'bout a quick shag?" His grin lopsided as he placed things aside sliding his arm under your bum to pull you closer to him. You snuggled into him giving him kitten whines and cries that turns him super on.

"Doesn't seem borin' t' me." You smirk kissing his temple meandering your fingers in his matte curls massaging his scalp that caused him to buck his hips with a moan of relaxation.

He tilts his face with shut eyes and thin lips exposing more of his milky flesh for you to leave love bites. You peer up at him with lust filled eyes while sucking and lapping an already purple hickey fading as of stardust.

"Mhm. puppy, c'mon do somethin'." He writhes under you grazing his digits beneath your blouse tweaking your nipple gently that caused you to jolt in his grasp. "Shh, 's okay. How d'ya want me?" You cradle his tired face in your warm calloused palms circling your thumb at the littlest of scruff on his chin while bopping his nose with your's.

"Want ye' to fuck meh." His lewd words heightens your breath and you nodded kissing his sweet deep spot beneath his earlobe making him grip the hem of your panties with lousy fingers.

"'M all yours." You whisper to him shimming his brown corduroy trousers down, his rosy lips parts away when you grind yourself over his thick bulge. When you were about to get rid of your panties he caught your wrists coming out of his sensual trance. "Don't. it feels good–when ye'r panties grazes me cock." You gasp flopping into his chest and he giggled kissing your hair sniffing your pomegranate scent.

"You're a minx, Harry Styles." You murmured against his lips with a happy sigh and he cupped your cheeks passionately as you moved your panties aside stroking the head of his cock between your pussy lips lubricating him with your arousal, flicking your clit in circles.

Your temples coming to kiss when you slided him inside your sloppy hole and he thrusted deep inside you where you could feel him in your tummy.

Giggles resonated into your tiny room when thunder erupted outside causing you to cramp around his thickness with a hard squeeze, "fuck." He grunted in between giggles shushing you with gentle kiss when you whimpered as he hit a sweet spot inside you.

You gazed him with hooded lids riding his cock with slow pace, admiring the way ecastasy gleed upon his features. Sloppy, obscene noises of skin slapping skin and moans mingling as you palpitated around his longevity.

"S' warm, could stay inside ye' fo' hours." He rasped out swiveling his hips into agonisingly deep thrust knowing you're bout to topple into the bliss making disgustingly cute noises against the apple of your cheeks as if he's taking bites out of it and you tittered looping your elbows around the nape of his neck playing with his baby curls.

"Mhpm. open ye'r pretty mouth puppy." He trailed his fingers to your lips pulling the lower plump one and when you stuck your tongue out he pressed the pads of his pointer and middle finger into it, sliding it towards your throat. Your eyeballs rolling to your head when with other hand he pinned your hips down fucking into you brutally, you gagged around his digits and in reaction he exhaled through his nostrils spanking your ass.

His stomach coiling with rapture. Your walls constantly squeezing and nursing his cock, the edge of your panties grazing his cock leaving a mild print and your whimpers with blushed face's enough to make him cum into you with long ribbons of white.

He kept fucking into you pumping his cum inside your tiny hole and your whole body shook blissfully like sea waves as pleasure drowned you inside it with a powerful force.

His sloppy thrust coming to halt gradually when you cacooned around his body whining with sensitivity and he stroked your hair affectionately reminding you of his presence. Your cheeks smashed against his chest and perked nipples flushed against him. He sighed with mellowness rubbing your calves and thighs on either side of his waist.

"Don't. Stay inside me." You mumbled hugging him warmly and he yawned pecking your ears, "fo' nap, kay? then we'll get ya cleaned up." He chuckled mid-sentence hearing your little snores.

Taking your chin he pecked you thrice before sliding under sheets with you ontop of him nestling his cock inside you like a warm wrap. The pink sweater with lilac shabby hearts and needles stuffed into it's loop sitting undone on the bedside as his token of love.

.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

now that we have a streamer geralt... could we have a ASMRtist geralt? and a sleepless jaskier? 👀❤️❤️❤️ ily!!!

Listen here, you little shits. This gave me FEELINGS and I dont even listen to/watch asmr?!?!?!

Rude 

Now: Geralt

This little bitch was told by Eskel to do this and the only reason he started his channel was because Lambert won a bet. 

He just does the little whispery growl thing so well

Plz

End me

But enough about me.

Jaskier absolutely listens to him to get to sleep

He has no fucking clue who WhiteWolfASMR is, bc Geralt never shows his face, but damn, he’s in love. 

Jask mainly listens to Geralt reading old poetry and classic literature, but there are a couple goofy ones that he loves, especially when he’s having an anxious day. 

Geralt filled his request for a few of Edgar Allen Poe’s shorter poems and Jask listens to it at least three times a week.

One day at a work meeting (do i care enough to assign jobs? No. just roll with it), Geralt leans over and asks Jaskier to pass him a pen and Jask’s soul leaves his body for a minute because “holy shit i know that voice wtf hunky work boi is the asmr guy mother of fucking shit balls im going to die right here and now”

He hands Geralt the pen and gets a weird look

Jask doesn’t catch a single thing the rest of the meeting 

Geralt leans over and asks him if he’s okay in that same fucking gravely ass whisper and Jaskier nearly yelps bc honestly how the fuck is this fair

Geralt knows. Immediately. 

Jask had left his phone out on his desk while he ran to make copies or some shit and he saw? idk and idc, maybe Geralt just has the gaydar tuned and ready bc Jask is cute.

Geralt goes and searches his followers to find him and corners him by the copier.

“Hey, I started reading more Poe. Thanks for the ah… suggestion.”

Jaskier’s eyes nearly pop out of his head and he stammers his way through the conversation and they somehow end up on a date. 

Blah blah blah, they date and fall in love and live together

Geralt reads to Jaskier to help him fall asleep

Or he just talks to him, about anything and nothing and how much he loves him 😭

He makes special recordings just for Jask for when he’s out of town 

When Ciri comes along (once again, not worried about specifics) and she’s teething and crying and waking up at all hours of the night Geralt does the voice and holds her close and rocks her back and forth

And Jask is just standing in the doorway trying not to cry bc his lil family is just so fucking cute oh my gods

Ciri tries to mimick him and she cant do it with her tiny little baby voice so she just blows raspberries and humms and it’s very cute

Geralt absolutely does NOT post a little video of them going back and forth 

It is absolutely NOT the most watched video on his channel

Jask claims responsibility for at least half of those views

Listen guys, I just wanna listen to Geralt reading things. Thats it. The growly voice and legit any fucking written work. He could read My Immortal and I’d be enthralled. 

So like if yall have any ASMR recs that do similar stuff? I guess hmu?

[multiplefandomsblog]

Can i request how different idv characters would act as roommates? Eli, Helena, Luca, Edgar, Vera, Norton and Fiona if thats alright with you :DDD

warnings? kinda suggestive, crack fic, cussing

mod toby and mod bread helped me do this fic, its a bit all over the place but it was fun so no regrets

Eli Clark

I feel like being roommates with eli would be pretty pleasant

everything would be clean all the time

he’s the type of kid that everyone wants on their team because of how good he is at everything

so if you scored a roomie like him, you got super lucky

if you left a mess he wouldn’t get mad, he would probably just clean it up himself and leave a sticky note that said to clean up ur mess next time(but not like, passive aggressively)

ofc you would clean up after the cute sticky note, bc who can say no to this bb? 

If you don’t clean up tho, brooke rose will probably shit on your hair when u sleep

tbh you’ve always wondered what eli looked like without his eye mask

so one time when Eli was sleeping, you went next to his bed to try and take his eye mask off and see what he looks like.

You took off the mask and found out it was a dummy 

a few seconds later you heard footsteps and you turned around

Eli came up behind you and knocked you out with a bat

you two don’t speak of that day.

Brooke kept screeching last night, and you got no sleep at all, so I guess we’re having chicken for dinner 

Unless you had a good reason, then eli and brooke prob won’t mind cleaning up after u

I can imagine you going back to your shared room in the manor after a rough match and seeing eli just sweeping the room in an apron and a cloth covering his hair looking like cinderella

“Honey, I’m home!”

basically if you lived with eli, you basically had a husband/mom/wife???

If you came back to the manor, beaten up and bruised from the last match he would prob pester you and nag you

while cleaning up you wounds he would prob say, “You have to be more careful, im always worrying. You’re gonna give your mom a heart attack!”

seriously tho, don’t worry this bb, he would actually have a heart attack

Helena Adams

i think living with helena would probably feel like some sort of kdrama

she might be a bit clumsy and trip over a few things, falling into your arms bc of her blindness

though she might be doing it on purpose

If you moved things in the room without telling her, she would probably get mad

for example, you move the sofa chair a little bit to the right bc you thought it looked better

helena walks in the room, sits down on the sofa chair and ends up accidentally sitting on the sofa chair arm rest instead

resulting in her bottom hurting and a very long talk with you

she got her revenge weeks later

she had asked you to check under her bed for monsters because she couldn’t do it herself

you were teasing her for still being afraid of monsters but looked underneath anyways

low and behold, 

she put a mirror there.

will even wack you with her cane if you’re being annoying

Her cane is pretty affective in shutting you up lol only sometimes

“Hey Helena, are you braille? ‘cause i can read you like a book when i touch yo-” *wack* *moans*

helena: ...

you: ...

helena: ...im leaving

you: heleNA WAIT-

One time everyone at the manor was celebrating Helena’s birthday with a piñata, 2 seconds later she was beating the shit out of Luca with her cane

even after everyone’s been yelling that he wasn’t the piñata

One time you and Helena had a staring contest because you were both bored.

She won.

sometimes to get her close to you, you would sit on the sofa chair super quietly and still

And then you’d wait for her to come and sit on your lap thinking it was the chair

and it would work 

she would probably sit on your lap for a few minutes, confused as to why the chair felt elevated

and then she would feel your arms snake around her waist

and she would- “whAT THE FUCK- SCREEEEEEE”

she would probably make a cute bird noise and then just sit there, not knowing if she should leave or not

in her head, “THEIR LAP IS SO WARM OH MY GOD WHY DIDN’T THIS HAPPEN SOONER”

in real life, “let go of me you pathetic mortal”

you’d beg her to stay on ur lap longer and she would cave in

but she didn’t stay because she liked you! baka

Luca Balsa

living with luca will probably be the opposite of eli’s

messes, everywhere

inventions, everywhere

at one point though you had a sneaking suspicion he might be a bunch of rats.

 you saw him outside crouching beside you guys’ room with a bunch of rats coming out his sleeve and running into a crack in the building

“its for science!”

he’s also super scared of helena

Luca doesn’t like to admit it, but he got his purple eye from Helena after he made a bad pick-up line for the blind. 

She’s been chanting “one of us” and threatening to “finish the job” ever since.

he’s basically a big baby that needs to be taken care of

i feel like he might break down sometimes from not doing his invention right, or feeling insecure

but i guess his rats are there to help

but since he had a roomie, he wouldn’t be able to cry on his own

and its a good thing because he doesnt have to do everything by himself anymore

he learns to ask for help when living with you

you’d help him through his episodes and he would slowly start to become more reliant on you

if he was feeling a bit moody, he would unconsciously try to find you to cuddle with

if you lived with him, you’d probably have to be very responsible

luca would have his own bed that he would never sleep in because he wouldn’t be able to sleep without you in his arms

everytime he shifts in bed, you’d feel a tiny shock

it kinda bothered you so

you pranked Luca by touching him with those zappy ring things you’d get from a dollar store.

You just wanted that mother fucker to get a taste of his own medicine

he would basically be a puppy that follow you around, he would constantly old your head

probably refers to you as his

like if you downed a shot that barmaid made for you, he would be like, “EYYYY THATS MY BABy-heurghrhgh”

now you have a drunk baby that you have to take care of

You tried giving luca a shower afterwards, now you know how it feels getting electrocuted.

And trust me, Luca and water do not mix.

good luck have fun

Edgar Valden

living with edgar would consist of 

1. edgar being super specific of what was his and what you can’t touch

2. big tsundere baby

3. sketches of you hiding in his sketch book

if you lived with edgar, you’d have to be super patient with his nagging or else you’d have to find a new roomie

he’s constantly nagging you

but if you are tired of it and give him the silent treatment, he’d probably just nag you even more for attention

you need to give this man attention or else

you ignored him for a whole day once because he said something mean

he decided to give you some milk and cookies as an apology

the ‘milk’ was his muddy paint water and the cookies were expired

i feel like one day you two would be arguing about who moved his stuff, your argument being he unconsciously moved his stuff, his argument being you moved his stuff

you guys were so heated up you didn’t notice how close you two were getting

edgar ended up pouncing on you like a feral dog

though when you woke up, you both agreed that you ended up winning the argument

when you’re reading or just doing nothing, he’d ask to sketch you or paint you

i-its not because he thinks you’re beautiful or anything

its just because he thinks that your whole self is aesthetically pleasing and pleasing to the eye- but not because he thinks you’re pretty!

sometimes when he was super focused on his art, he wouldn’t notice your figure slowly approach him

you’d boop his nose and watch as he froze

wh- hoW DARE YOU LAY YOUR HANDS ON A VALDEN

secretly tho, he really loves it when you do that.

like

do it more

please or not whatever

Vera Nair

Vera would probably be a bit anxious when she heard she was gonna get a roomie

but she would do her best to be at her best behaviour

she’s very well mannered and is very polite

she’d kinda be the type to silently care for you

like, she’d notice the little things that bothered you and made sure they wouldn’t bother you ever again

like, if you stubbed your toe alot, she would give everything that you could stub your toe with, rubber covers or socks

but she wouldn’t tell you it was her even though it was obviously her

if you fell asleep on your desk instead of your bed, she would probably but a blanket on ur shoulders and a pillow underneath where you left your head

she’s the thoughtful type

before you went for matches, she’d give you a cheek kiss for good luck

and if you did the same, she would probably play it cool but then panic a second later.

theykissedmetheykissedmetheykissedme-

im sorry this is short idk what to do for her-

Norton Campbell

oh BOY

once norton starts to warm up to you, you guys are basically married

like there was no proposal, just “do you take this man to be your husband- you can’t say no”

he would probably take care of you alot

even when you didn’t need it

i can do it mysel- no

but actually, before he warmed up to you he was pretty cold, 

he felt himself growing feelings for you

and he didn’t want to because he was afraid he would lose you and he would have to go through the heartbreak of losing someone all over again

he would leave the room to go hang out somewhere else

he would keep his distance and not talk with you much

but there was this one time where you woke up with him around you, you just pretended you didn’t wake up and relished in the feeling

it took some time, but eventually he warmed up to you

though he still constantly worries about you, he doesn’t want you to get hurt

during matches he would always take hits for you, and just stay closer to you in general

he wanted to make sure you got back to the manor safely, it didn’t matter if he was sent back via rocket chair

he always put you as his #1 priority

he also gets jealous super easily, he’s scared someone will swoop you away from him

so to make sure everyone knows that you belong to him, he’d give you his clothes to wear

not only do his clothes look adorable on you, everyone will know that you’re his

probably pester you a lot if you tripped or got a paper cut

“yoU COULD HAVE DIED” “IT WAS A PAPER CUT”

Once, Norton got stuck to the fridge like a magnet for 5 hours

He’s been using that as an excuse to force you to bring him his snacks every since.

pick up lines are a definite yes

sometimes you’d be shitting and you’d hear outside the bathroom door a faint,

“My love for you is like Diarrhea.” “norton what the fuck im shitting-” “i just can’t hold it in” cue camera zooming in on his face and him smirking into the camera “OH MY GOD WHY”

like Luca, his bed is useless. he always needs you in his arms when sleeping, he wants to protect you and just feel you closer to him

puts him at ease

kisses? hell yes.

if you had to go to a match without him he would send you off with a ton of gross wet kisses on your face ew

He might even try to seduce you into staying

“norton I’m gonna lose morality points!” “fuck your morality points, i wanna smash”

Fiona Gilman

I feel like fiona would probably super psyched when she heard about sharing rooms with you

I headcanon her to be super bubbly and social but when she is alone with her thoughts she’d probably regret everything 

“why did i say that why did i say that why did i say that-”

probably prays to god, “please kill me”

she tries her best to make sure you’re comfortable

she doesnt make a big mess and she makes sure she cleans up after herself, overall a pretty cool roommate

except for those times for when she tries to babtize you while you’re showering-

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING” “THE LORD SHALL CLEANSE YOUR SOUL WITH HOLY WATER-” “what the f- iS THIS ALCOHOL???”

this has happened too many times^^^

one time she accidentally created an ultra portal in the toilet. 

Y’all still have no idea where it leads, and no intent of finding out. 

Although, Kreacher has been complaining of some nasty stuff appearing in his room

i feel like during matches she would always call you with her portals to say hi or just give you a small kiss

it stopped being cute when she went through the portal and ended up seeing the hunter instead of you

mentally scarred from that

sometimes things would disappear in your shared room too, not only the toilet

you’re convinced she has a bunch of hidden portals in the room

like, one time you dropped a pencil and it went through the ground.

you never saw it again

Or you know that missing sock?

Portaled.

i dont know what this turned into