#he just wants shock value for the sake of it

[kentopedia]

tbh i knew gege was up to no good when he killed off nanami bc “he had no room for more development”

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

If it is okay, may I please request a headcannon of MC being found badly injured by Ace, Lilia, Trey, Floyd, and Jamil? I really love these characters so much! And angst, too.

Ace Trappola:

Ace had a hard time keeping the panic from showing on his face, hands hovering over you like he was afraid to touch you. What if he hurt you more? He’d never claimed to have a healing touch but even now he knows there’s not much worse he could do other than finishing the job, a thought that proceeds to make him sick to his stomach. There’s another feeling burning deep in his gut, a rage only held back by the initial shock of seeing you in such a state and trying to process what to do from there. Your safety was at the forefront of his mind, getting you straight to a person who can heal you, even if every other instinct of his wanted to get even with the person who hurt you first.

Floyd Leech:

Though Floyd is not your enemy, you can’t help but feel uneasy as he approached. He’s not really glaring at you but past you, like there was a general barking orders at him that he had no intention of following. He hadn’t said much since he found you, another oddity as he wasn’t generally the quietest. You don’t think he’s ever handle you so gently before as he scooped you up, changing his pace or repositioning you carefully each time you winced or whimpered in pain. The first thing on his mind was returning you to safety, but once you were… He asked with an eerie calmness if you could give details on your assailant, even if it was more than one person, because he fully intended to pay them all back double (and Sevens help whoever tried to stand in his way).

Jamil Viper:

Jamil hadn’t quite gathered himself together, priding himself on analyzing situations, on predicting outcomes, and yet your interference had always been a variable he forgot to account for. Just like in his life, he had never expected you to come crashing in nor had he expected you to make a home beside him. He thought you were crazy for seeing any value in a relationship with him but he supposed you had your uses, hiding behind the shadow of a manipulator despite how truly grateful he was for your presence. Now he’s confronted with that, life spitting in his face again, demanding that he beg on his hands and knees, grovel, to assure that you survived your injuries. He knew the basics of healing, knew how to clean wounds and to dress them properly, but he had to hope mentally you had the strength to pull through for him. He hoped you could hear him begging for forgiveness, a promise to treat your relationship more seriously if you just came back to him.

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia’s always been good at wearing a mask, showcasing a playful smirk or firing off witty flirtations in moments that don’t necessarily fit the mood. But he feels a bit of the façade crack when he sees you in such dire straits, clinging to the last bit of calm he possessed as it tried to slip right through his fingers. It’s not that he’s scared, his battlefield experience allowed him to determine your status with a quick glance, but he felt a deep-seated fury building inside him. He remembered being pulled away from someone important before in a drastic, life-changing moment, unable to protect—fight by their side as he was meant to, and it seemed that same crossroads was appearing before him again. He had been forced into one choice for the sake of Briar Valley before but there are no such forces present now. He kneeled by your side, making a serious face you’re not quite used to seeing on him as he promised he wouldn’t let the culprit touch a hair on your head ever again.

Trey Clover:

Trey is used to keeping his cool under any circumstance, having to be the level-headed vice dorm leader had brought him many days of experiencing pressure to assure emotions didn’t boil over. Yet none of that training matters now when he saw your blood-soaked clothes, his heart skipping a beat until he realized you were still breathing. He tried to talk to you, offering soothing words, promising he’d get you to someone who could help soon. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth as he knew he likely wouldn’t have the chance to get his hands on the person who hurt you, biting down on his lip so hard it began to bleed, but he couldn’t voice his frustrations now to a person who was in a much worse state than he was. And he didn’t think he ever would, letting his anger fester deep in his chest until he had a moment alone to dispel it.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Can you write a Platonic fic for the characters?

If so may I request the school bus graveyard characters and an older sibling like reader

(Of course! Enjoy!)

Older Sibling-Like Reader

Aiden

This man is literally never leaving you alone 

There are pros and cons with being a comfort place for Aiden

But to get something straight Aiden is definitely kept in line by you

All is takes is one look and he is definitely knowing he's gonna get an ear full

But knowing him, he keeps going

It’s Aiden, for god's sake

He is kinda bummed in his own mind on how you’re not actually his blood related sibling

He could have used you a whole lot when he was going through stuff growing up

He thinks you would have made it a little better

But he’s happy he now knows you and that you’re his unofficial sibling now

Against your will of course

He’s the annoying little brother for sure

Your friends are now his friends and his friends are definitely your friends

It’s a given

He is always dragging you into all his shit so of course when stuff is happening with those fucking demons man you are right there with him

You have literally no escape from this man

The sibling to just come into your room, mess with your hit, check himself out in the mirror, push your phone into your face and walk out

Ben

He is more subtly protective of the people he loves

Especially when that fight went down when Logan was trying to help out that kid

He values you a lot even if he physically cannot say it

He is always subconsciously next to you because he finds your aura a bit comforting

Especially because you took on that older sibling role

He’s taller, people find him intimidating so he never really had anyone be the one to comfort him or to be the one that treated him like how you do

It was something new for him and he turned out to really like it

He doesn’t say it out loud but he does love and care for you

He would literally fight to hell and back for you, anyone he loves he would but you especially

In the dream world place shit he is definitely by your and Aiden's side the whole time

Gotta protect his honorary siblings

He may not show it but he loves when you treat him like a casual younger sibling

Even if its sibling arguing or fighting he loves being treated like a blood related sibling by you

He finds it comforting 

He likes little things like that

He needs an older sibling so bad bro cause like what??

Logan

YOU BETTER STICK UP FOR HIS ASS

If you were friends from before that field trip happened you better have stuck up for him

But even if you werent and you found out that shit was going down??

That was when Logan actually started thinking of you as an older sibling like person to him

Just the way you got mad, showed you cared and comforted him and how you went up to go pick a fight because you got ticked off about how he got treated

It was nice to know somebody cared about him in that way

He doesn’t really have anyone like that to do that shit for him

He’s always been kind of alone in that department so for you to step in and help him like that?

It was refreshing in a way and he doesn’t want to lose that

And it just was a bit jarring to him at how much you cared

If you do small things like do sibling like picking on him, or protecting him, or ruffling his hair, messing up his shit playfully and stuff like that

He may pretend to get annoyed but he does find it fun and will do it back to yo

People look at you guys and just from how you act are shocked at how y’all are not in any way related

He does wish you guys were

His life would be a lot better if you were his older sibling, he thinks

Tyler

He’s the stereotypical “I don’t care!” and “I don’t need it!” type of person to anyone else but to Taylor and you?

He’s different towards his siblings

It was just very natural in a way when you somehow became that older sibling like role for him

He was somewhat relieved he didn’t have to hold the entire older sibling burden on his shoulders anymore

He may appear to not need the help or want that type or care for himself but let me tell you something

He needs it, and he probably secretly craves it

He’s always been the stronger one, even if he is a twin he felt he needed to be that for Taylor because if not him who else?

And all older siblings know that burden

So he may not show it but he definitely finds a bit of comfort and solace in you being that for him

He won’t break down, he won’t do what other people might do to show they appreciate it, or he may not even really speak on it

But he shows he does in little actions like protecting you, checking up on you and helping you in ways he would only usually help Taylor in

He does need that older sibling care though because mans is probably gonna have a breakdown

In the hospital scene he ran to both you and Taylor and you guys were the only thing on his mind as he kept running 

That was probably the tightest hug you have ever gotten from him

Everyone probably thought he was going to you guys to comfort y’all or that he was worried about you guys

Don't get me wrong, he was both those things

But he was also terrified and holding onto you, his older sibling, because he needed your comfort then

Taylor

She really appreciates you

She loves having older siblings

She may not really like the cons that come with being treated like the baby of the family or being younger but she loves having the comfort of older siblings

It’s like a blanket and safety net she can’t describe to anyone else

She may have only started out with Tyler but she somehow found you along the way and she has never been more happy

She is very protective over her siblings also

Even if you’re not biologically her sibling she is just the same with you

She’s always happy to be around you, to annoy you and even in the bad times

In the dream like hell you guys go to everyday at night she always is around either you or Tyler

You guys bring her a comfort she can’t describe but a comfort she always wants to be around

She is terrified of you guys getting hurt, especially after what happened to Tyler

She sometimes forgets you’re not biologically her sibling

But does she care??

No. She does not care one bit.

Ashley

It may have taken some time for Ash to even be comfortable or even acknowledge how she feels like you’re an older sibling to her

She’s an only child so she’s never experienced a sibling-like bond before

So to have you appear in her life so suddenly caught her off guard

Especially with how you showed you cared, or how you treated her like someone would treat their sibling

But she actually liked it

She gravitated towards it when she got more comfortable with the thought or when she needed it

Especially when shit gets hard in the hell you guys are all forced into at night

She likes that you have her back and she has yours 

It’s a protective thing she loves

And like Tyler she is happy to not have to hold the entire burden of everything just because she’s older

Her parents more likely like you as well just because f how much their daughter does

Ash has you over a lot, everyone else as well, so much so your stuff probably is around her room a lot

Ash may not be used to having an older sibling to go to but when she does?

She can’t help but like it

It’s a foreign comfort to her

But she likes it, a lot

[piratefishmama]

Fake it 'till you make it | Prompt

When Steve Harrington came out to his parents, he expected a few things to happen. Jumping back a little, he hadn’t even meant to come out. His parents meant well, they did. He couldn’t deny that they meant well.

They knew he was lonely when they were gone, they knew he was the type of person who kind of… needed someone around. He wasn’t a lone wolf, he wasn’t someone who could just go it alone, while they were away for months, and while Robin was lovely, Robin was also a lesbian.

So Robin was out of the question.

So it fell to the women they knew. Through their connections. And unfortunately those women tended to be, for lack of a better phrase, ‘Daddies money is how I intend to live for the rest of my life’, and completely comfortable in switching out who Daddy was.

Steve… didn’t have a daddy kink, thanks.

Okay maybe he did a little but not in the call him daddy kind of way. More the other way around.

After the fifth attempt to throw some business partners daughter at him, a woman who’d actually kind of impressively deep throated a hot dog at the office barbeque while looking directly at him before he’d even gotten her name. Impressive, kind of terrifying.

An image of his life consisting of an unhappy marriage where his wife used sex as some kind of transaction rather than the big family full of love that he wanted flashed before his eyes.

He'd had enough. So when the sixth one came up, Vivian, he hadn’t even been able to wait for them to explain who she was, which business associate she was related too, it just. Came out.

Or rather he came out. Spectacularly.

“I’M GAY!” Okay less spectacular initially, more manic desperation. He expected a few things to happen after he realised what he’d blurted out.

He expected anger, he expected disappointment, he half expected disownment, not fully expected, his mother would probably be on his side. He expected violence, judgement, demands of him to tell them it wasn’t true, or demands that he hide it, keep pretending for appearances sake. He’d heard the coming out horror stories.

He did not expect—

“Oh oh! What about Jonathan!! From Tennis club, honey you remember Jonathan right? Peter’s son?” His mother turning to look at his father, who’d turned a little pale. That was it, his father would be the one to blow up, his mother was in his corner that was sort of expected but his fa—

“Lynda he is not dating someone with the same name as me, that—no. No, I don’t think I’d recover if those thin walls at the chalet struck again.” Goddammit. “What about Timothy, Dorothy’s nephew? Didn’t she say she’d caught him with some punk boy on that family holiday to London?”

“Yes but she was trying to get points around the water cooler for being hip and homophobic, did you not hear what she called the poor boy? I’m not associating with Dorothy, good heavens.”

“I hadn’t heard, why have I not heard? Lynda we’re trying to create an inclusive work environment, I can’t have homophobic people working in HR!” And John was up, newspaper down, and off to his study to deal with Dorothy muttering about how he was sure the monthly office newsletter, which included the updated company values, would have weeded the bigots out by now.

“…Did my coming out just get someone fired?” Steve finally broke his shocked silence, his mothers attention turning back to him, her eyes wide, mouth puckered in a little, silent, oh.

“……Maybe.” His shoulders slumped, expression dropping to deadpan, she moved quick to reassure him “Don’t worry about it, Steven, she really wasn’t well liked.” It didn’t make him feel better… okay maybe it did, one less homophobe in the workplace. “Oooh, what about—”

It didn’t stop the matchmaking. The potential suitor pool just got bigger. Especially when he quietly, defeatedly corrected himself, revealing it was bisexual, not just gay, accepting his fate.

So it was no longer Vivian, Jessica, Bethany, Barbara, Carol, etc.

It was Vivian, Thomas, Jessica, Peter, Bethany, Robert blah blah blah

“Okay but you know some people would kill for that kind of support right?” Robin spoke the truth while rewinding the latest batch of returns. And maybe he was whining, maybe he was being overdramatic, his parents were supportive and were trying to make sure he’d be happy while they were gone on their long business trips.

Honestly they could have probably just let him get a dog. It’d have been easier. Less expensive than any of the people they were suggesting.

“I know… it’s just… they could at least try and find out what my type is. Instead it’s like they’re trying to throw a whole Indy gay bar at me in hopes that one person just kinda sticks. And now I’ve got a whole week with them coming up in some remote chalet, what if they bring someone, Robs? What if they bring someone and try an set us up an—”

“Can your parents just… adopt me?” She wasn’t listening “I’d kill to have the dating thing simplified for me, I can’t even talk to girls, you’ve got your mother doing all the work for you. I’d appreciate them, tell them I’d appreciate them.”

The door chimed, neither of them looked up, too engrossed in what they were doing. If a customer needed their help, they’d make it known.

They’d just adjust language used to not out themselves to strangers.

“You tell them! Pretty sure they’d find you someone.” Apparently his parents would be thrilled to help. He wanted to be happy about that, he really did, it was just exhausting having to fend off people who were interested in him but only for the last name, the business connection, the money. He wanted someone who wanted him for him, and none of those ‘potential suitors’ fit that bill. “Robbie I’m serious here, what if— what if they try when I can’t escape. I can’t spend a whole week in the woods with some stranger they’ve thrown at me, I think I might actually perish.”

“Then take a date.” Both young adults turned to look at the culprit behind the door chime.

“Henderson!” Steve’s favourite of the brat pack. Having met him while ferrying the kids home when Jonathan couldn’t pick Will up from Mike’s on a night when Steve had been hanging out with his at the time girlfriend Nancy. The kid was hilarious, a little bit of a know it all, but when you actually know it all, you’ve kind of earned the right to be obnoxious about it. “What did you hear?”

“That someone’s setting you up with people? Which is that a bad thing?” He directed the second question to Robin who shrugged and rolled her eyes.

“Not in my book lil man, not in my book.”

“Okay It’s not the attempt that’s the problem, it’s the quantity of attempts, and the quality of people they’re throwing at me! Quantity and quality are the issues here, people, it’s not that they’re doing it,”

“It’s that they’re doing it badly.” Dustin finished, Steve pointing at him with clicked finger guns.

“Exactly… and I don’t want my parents at my future wedding claiming they were responsible for getting us together cause that’d be weird! And pathetic. I want a fun first date story, a meet cute, or a ridiculous ‘yeah we were trapped in an elevator for like, three hours and bonded’ kind of story, I want an ‘I met them on a train’ or ‘they hit on me at the bar, and it just worked’ not an ‘my parents set us up in a remote cabin in the woods’, do you get me?”

“I can see your dilemma, but remote cabins in the woods can be really roman—"

“Nobody wants to hear about you and Suzie again! We get it, she’s your soulmate and future nerd wife you lucky little shithead.” Long distance and tricky as it may be, they were kind of perfect for each other. “Now what were you saying about taking a date?”

“Exactly that, take a date with you. Tell them you’re bringing someone and just… bring someone.” Dustin let his eyes flick to robin purposefully, quirking his head a little to subtly nod at her “you could take Robin” as if to say now’s your chance, dickhead, take it.

“Somehow I doubt Robin would be able to convince them that we were dating.”

“Cause we’re not.”

“And will not be.”

“At all.”

“Eh—"

“—ver”

“You guys make no sense.”

“We make perfect sense, my strange little child friend. You just don’t have all the information to make it make sense.” Robin wiggled her fingers at him as if it was some kind of mystery, it was to Dustin but that wasn’t important. “He does have a point though, you could take a date, there’s plenty of people in Hawkins who’d kill for a rich person get away, just gotta let them know that it’s a pretend date situation. Or… actually find a date. If you can.”

The "you suck" board flashed into his mind momentarily. He couldn’t. Not within the time frame he had. He was so far off his game his parents were matchmaking for him.

Dustin’s voice broke through his thoughts once more, offering salvation. “I know someone you could hire for that…” hallelujah, Dustin Henderson everybody.

Part 2

[ordowrites]

some arlecchino headcanons

we are about 34 days away from her debut and i'm excited, so i am here, with a fever and nothing to do until i recover so it's time to ramble about this woman who i've been excited for since her debut in winter night's lazzo

cw: some fluff, some not sfw mentions, afab reader but no pronouns used, use of pet names, mdni, minors dni, general warnings for canon typical violence, some mentions of D/s, sort of a sugar relationship, power imbalances, pet play, possessive behaviors. everything is consensual. please ask if something should be tagged i didn't get already

arlecchino is, for the lack of a better word, a kind lover. she isn't inherently cruel nor would she never intentionally raise a hand to you unless you ask very nicely. she is attentive for someone of her stature and position, she knows many things about you although you know very little about her - still, having your likes and dislikes, favorite color, dream wedding, and so on is to her advantage. she touches you as if you may shatter beneath her touch and you're the last person in this world that she wants to corrupt.

while she is kind, she does get condescending sometimes. she likes making the decisions in the relationship and calling the shots, such as where you guys eat, what you guys eat, sometimes what you wear, simpler decisions - although, she also wants a partner who knows what they want and can speak up for themselves. being confident is important, but not egotistical. (after all, she may be calling the shots, but your thoughts are still pretty important to her)

she will pay for everything. oh don't you worry your pretty little head, she's a Harbinger, she can pay. you sit pretty and enjoy your dinner and conversation. she'll gift you things you like, get you necessities should you only ask for them. so long as it brings a smile to your face, she will do it to an extent.

in comparison to others, such as diluc, whose love language is gift giving and he loves showering his partner with expensive gifts no strings attached - arlecchino's can be underhanded and come at a price. not everything comes from the kindness of her heart, and she's more than frank enough to tell you when she wants you on your knees to work for that dress you've been eying. (and of course, you will do so)

she likes to refer to you as pet, precious, and similar names to that. maybe she views you a bit as a pet, what with that collar she presented to you sometime ago? "oh, it's so everyone knows you belong to me. would you rather something more permanent?" (of course, if you stutter out your protests about wearing a collar in public, she'll just smile, cup your face, and tell you how sweet you look). she did also gift you a lovely necklace to wear at all times after your initial shock of the collar. after all, she still does value your comfort. nothing is ever non-consensual with her. after all, she teaches her "children" the importance of consent and valuing their own lives, so she should model such teachings with you.

you have dinner at home, together, at the same time, six days a week. once a week, she will take you out to the fanciest place she can in order to show you off to the public. her arm wrapped around your waist, your dress matches her red lip stick, and she shows you off proudly to the public. everyone knows you're the Harbinger's most beloved one. And she is quick to remind anyone who forgets. (and hold your head up high, goodness sakes', she wants you to be proud of yourself. if she didn't find you worth her attention, you wouldn't be at her side.)

the two of you will also have daily tea and cake, at the same time. always your favorite or whatever you are craving at the time. she loves to spoil you with these sorts of things.

She will never allow you to meet any of the other Harbingers. For your safety, of course. You are but an innocent person in this world, but if she ever does take you to a banquet, her clawed hand will never leave your hip. Her eyes will always be on you should you ever have a need to leave her side, and soft, veiled threats to her colleagues should they dare to even look at you wrong.

Sex with Arlecchino happens whenever it happens, and she's always happy to indulge if you're feeling particularly horny. But she doesn't make it easy for you to find the relief you're chasing. She likes to draw things out, she likes to hear you make noises that make you blush, and see tears prick at your eyes as you struggle to not orgasm without her okay to do so.

She's also not the biggest fan of bondage, but if you're being particularly naughty, she'll tie you up. Or if you ask her, nicely of course. (the reason being is because she likes feeling you touch her, your touch is always so soft and gentle)

However... something has caught her eye recently - a type of bondage hailing from Inazuma. Shibari. Oh yes, she will have you in soft red rope in her office just to look at. That is, if she doesn't have you already half naked and eating her out while she works while desperately humping her shoe because she issued you a challenge and it's been a few weeks since you've last had an orgasm. Really, whichever has her fancy at the time. (she does this because she loves seeing you fucked out and needy and pliant)

she also likes marking you - bright red marks or purple all over your neck where people can see. and she's always disappointed if you try to hide them. ("for shame, do you not wish for people to know who you belong to?")

("look at you, my most perfect pet. i must say, that is a good color on you. now, hold your head up high and don't cower. let everyone see the same thing i see in you.")

[miley1442111]

you were right. -s.reid

a/n: I imagined a fem reader and it is referenced quite a lot but feel free to imagine what you like! :)))

summary: you husband just wants to celebrate you, who are you to stop him?

pairing: dad/ husband spencer reid x mother/ wife reader

warnings: the reader is a mother, kissing.

You loved being a professor at the University of Pennsylvania, you loved being an accomplished psychiatrist and psychologist, and you appreciated your work being valued and accepted. You loved writing papers and books on your fields, and you loved and appreciated your husband, Dr. Spencer Reid. What you didn’t love or appreciate was Spencer going behind your back and accepting an invitation to the Rumelhart gala, where you would be awarded a Rumelhart Prize for your studies on human language and communication and how it has evolved and changed over the past 30 years. 

What you also didn’t love or appreciate was how smug he was being about it. 

“Spencer!” You grumbled. “I don’t want to go!” 

“Why not?” He chuckled. He was enjoying this. “You’re amazing. You deserve to be celebrated!” 

“Spencer, I don’t want to be celebrated,” you sighed, sitting on your shared bed. “I was just doing my job.”

“Baby, it’ll be amazing, I’ll get Pen to come down from Quantico to look after Ellie, Danny and Theo and we’ll have a nice trip!” He took your hands in his and knelt down in front of you. “I want to celebrate you, ok?” He pressed soft kisses to each of your knuckles as you thought about it. “Please?”

“But we’ll have to go shopping for clothes, and we’d have to get flights and hotels, it’s in Rotterdam for fuck’s sake! That’s a 13 hour flight, at least! ” You started stressing, thinking about everything you’d have to do in such short notice. “And we’ve only left the kids for a night on their own, what if something happens and we’re not there-”

He cut you off by kissing you and you must admit, it eased some of the tension in your body. His hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer, laying you down on the bed with him on top of you. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I have the hotels and flights booked, Penelope will take great care of the kids, and I plan on taking you dress shopping right now,” He smirked against your lips. 

“So ‘no’ isn’t an answer is it?” you huffed as he leisurely kissed your neck, his hands finding their grip on your waist.

“It is not,” he chuckled and you just gave in, running a hand through his hair as he kissed you. His lips made their way back to yours and halted right before kissing you. “So we’re going?”

“Yes,” you sighed and his boyish grin intensified before he kissed you. Your kiss was cut short, as your 6 year old son, Danny walked in, looking for you. 

“Mommy?” he called out and you pushed Spencer off of you as he groaned, landing on his side of the bed with a grin on his face. Behind Danny was Ellie and Theo, your 4 year old twins. 

“Yes baby?” You smiled as he climbed into your bed beside you, the twins following suit with some help from Spencer (aka, him lifting them up and dropping them beside himself and you). 

“Can we celebrate you too?” He asked in his soft voice and it made your heart melt. Clearly, they had been listening in on your conversation (or Spencer had briefed them prior to the conversation, just to make sure you’d go).

“Of course you can sweetheart,” Spencer chimed in. “Give mom a hug,” he whispered very loudly, but you pretended not to hear as Danny’s face lit up at the idea. 

“Mommy, can I give you a hug?” Danny asked and you pretended to look shocked, then nodded and opened your arms. He hugged you tight and the twins got jealous, scampering out of their father’s arms and into yours. You loved your family. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You look beautiful,” Spencer gushed as you walked out of the dressing room wearing a long green silk dress that looked amazing on you. Danny, Ellie, and Theo were all sitting beside Spencer on the couch, just as interested as Spencer. You felt blessed that your children were so well-behaved, it made going out so easy. 

“I like this one,” you smiled, looking in the mirror. “I think with my hair up-”

“Hair down!” Theo giggled out. He loved your hair down and he constantly played with it. 

“Ok Theo,” Spencer laughed. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. “And what about you, huh? Hoping your wedding tux will still work?” 

“Nope,” he smiled. “I already have one, I bought it when I booked the flights and hotels.”

“You really did think of everything, didn’t you?” 

“Yes,” he smirked as he got up, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Yes I did.”

You rolled your eyes. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night had been a success, you were awarded your prize and gave your lecture on your findings, and Spencer was there cheering you on the entire time. Penelope sent you many daily updates (it was basically hourly) on how the kids were doing. You loved it when the BAU got to see your children, since Spencer left when you became pregnant with Danny six years ago and you moved to Pennsylvania. Before then you were married, but not living together as he was still an agent and you were a professor. He quickly quit his job, got a job as a professor as well, and you moved into a house you picked out together, since then, your family had grown, but you always made an effort to see the BAU team once a year. Penelope usually visits every few weeks, as does Jj and Will with their sons. Aaron and Jack come over once a year for either Christmas or during the summer, Rossi visits every now and then, Morgan and Savannah visit too, often over the summer. 

The second you got off of the stage, there Spencer was, his hands clapping with his eyes trained on you. You looked stunning. Your dress looked amazing, your makeup was flawless, and you had decided to keep your hair down, just so you could show Theo later. You rushed towards Spencer and smiled when he hugged you. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered as the cameras flashed beside you. “I love you so much.”

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

After the ceremony, you went back to your hotel and ordered room service, deciding to facetime the kids and watch a movie. As you turned out you light and nestled into Spencer's side to sleep in his arms, he started talking.

"I love getting to spend time with you," he whispered.

"I love getting to spend time with you too," you whispered back. "Spence?'

"Yeah?"

"You were right about this trip. Thank you," you smiled and kissed his cheek, then closed your eyes, ready to sleep.

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

So maybe… you’ll accept more invitations to galas if it means you and Spencer get to spend some time together. 

Maybe you’ll listen to your genius more. He’s usually right. 

[magicaldragons]

analysing varadha's psyche

a deep dive into the workings of his mind

varada, because of his childhood, has always seen love as something to be worthy of, given to those who either have inherent value or have earned it.

and even though he instinctually knows, deep down, that deva will protect him, and trusts deva to come when he calls, it still shocks him when deva does goes to extremes or places varadha's regard over his own.

he definitely doesn't understand it, especially with his own view of himself; and everytime deva shows up for him, he has the thought 'this is the farthest deva will go for me' and is proven wrong each time.

but we see him grow familiar with deva's loyalty and devotion to him, with the more time he spends in deva's presence, which leads us to our next point:

2. varadha does not ask for things, because he's faced disappointment enough. he's tired of not receiving or being able to hold onto that which he wishes for – and it's led him to a point where he cannot imagine the privilege of 'wanting' anything for the sake of it.

this is very common in those who have been raised in an unhealthy environment or have had a deficit of love or safety – he's had to tell himself "no" so often, that he finds it very hard to ask for things.

which is why it's also very fitting that deva understands him so well, and can anticipate what he needs, even before varadha has to figure out how to ask.

we see varadha get more comfortable towards the end of the movie though, where after they've fought together, he says he wants the kingdom.

he doesn't phrase it as a request to deva specifically, it's more of a goal for himself. but the fact that he has this desire, and wants something specific, tells us that he finally feels secure enough to think beyond survival and safety.

3. in the present, he carries out all duties as king solely because he is obligated to. it is definitely not something his heart is in.

even when he asked for the throne, it was WITH deva by his side, right after the adrenaline rush of fighting side by side with him.

otherwise, varadha had actually given up a while before the ceasefire, just wanting to make sure the people around him would be safe, even if he died:

when rudra touched his mukku poga again, he had been completely capable of fighting back, but he'd lost all will to. the only thing that changed his mind – the only thing that had made him not only want to live, but want to strive for more – was the chance that he would get to have it and simultaneously have Deva next to him as well.

now that deva is gone, and their relationship messed up, he knows deep down, that none of this is really worth it, but he forges ahead because the responsibility of a kingdom has fallen to him, and if not him, it will end up in the hands of those who hate him and would do worse things to him than death.

3. varadha does not like calling deva 'devaratha' (the only time we've heard him say 'devaratha,' is when they were at the gate, for official purposes)

he still calls him 'deva' in the present, even though they're not on good terms, especially after deva hurt him seven years ago

he clearly cannot bring himself to call the other anything other than 'deva,' which implies a complete refusal to distance himself from deva anymore than he already has.

4. he's very self-disciplined and very resolute when he decides to be. once he has made a decision, he's not intimidated and cannot be threatened into doing the opposite, which also makes him very loyal once he's devoted himself to a cause.

his father definitely tried multiple methods to get the truth out of varadha, but we know that varadha stayed silent and never revealed anything that could put deva in danger, even to the people he trusts with his own life.

[jesssssssssica]

'but i love you-' 'so? please let me go' ln4

'but i love you-' 'so? please let me go.'

in which saying 'i love you' to keep a relationship together has been overused.

in which you've had enough

One too many times had you found yourself back in the arms of Lando Norris. The strong comforting arms of Lando Norris that holds you at times of need, became an addicting pull factor of keeping this crumbling relationship together, well that along with his constant throwaway of the words “I love you.”

Words that once held so much adoration and joy in your mind were now the words that were slowly destroying you from the inside out, and yet your weeping heart constantly craved for more, wanting to be with someone that claimed to want you. Of course you’d noticed that these words caused your heart to freeze up, rather than beat faster and yet you still somehow still had this idea that Lando did truly mean these words.  Was it delusion to help soothe your already breaking heart or was it just pure insanity? Either way, you received pity from the onlookers that watched in on your relationship, week after week, watching the distance between you two in the pit lane become further and further apart, watching as the man that supposedly loved you, laughed at the unfunny jokes that the models would tell him, watching them place their arms on his arm and stay there as he refused to shove them away. 

And yet, you still loved him, because after all he still loved you. Right? Of course he loved you, that’s why he’d say those magic words. He wouldn’t throw those sacred words around, right?

Of course he would. 

Lando Norris would only find himself using the words ‘I love you’ at times where he needed to avoid his mistakes being thrown back into his face and to keep you by his side. Of course, at one point those words did truly hold value and meaning to his relationship, but that was a long time ago and the meaning was now washed away, and a new definition for the phrase was made, to keep you. If you were to ask him what the meaning was however, he would proclaim that it means and symbolises his adoration and infatuation with you, and you being none the wiser would further and further into his arms, never wanting to let go and leave this comfort blanket that had been made just for you. 

I mean who would want to leave this VERY financially stable man that was able to fill your house with flowers and gifts, constantly flying you around the world with him as he always holds you and reassures you with his ‘love’.

You certainly didn’t want to. For god’s sake you had been with the man since you were 17, having known eachother since you were both 14, and you didn’t know anything about the real world without having Lando by your side. Of course your mother would always offer a place to stay whenever you had one of your rocky moments but that was only for a day or so, now where would you go if you truly were to finally take that leap of faith and leave the one person that was actually holding you back? 

But I mean what were you even talking about? Leaving Lando sounded more like a nightmare than a saving grace, I mean leaving the one man that has always been there for you? You’re crazy to think I would eve-

“Y/N! I am baaack” his voice sounded slurred as he shouted into the apartment. 

You turn your head from where you sit on the sofa, swirling the glass of wine that you hold in your hand, watching Lando struggle to slip off his trainers, a task he ultimately gives up on, huffing loudly before straggling over to your spot. 

“I missed you” he breathes, his breath confirming your thoughts.

‘Great’ you think, ‘Another night of babying him’ 

You don’t dare try and translate his coherent babbles, watching as he mindlessly talks to the ceiling, waiting for him to slowly sober up, which leads you to getting up and filling him a nice glass full of wa- 

“I cheated on you.” 

“What?”

“You heard”

You freeze, both out of shock and also out of anger. How could he? A man that she had dedicated 7 years of her life to and yet this is the cause of the end. An easily avoidable action that he seems to have no guilt or sorrow for happening? How could someone that preached to his lover how much he loved them, then proceed to do the complete opposite? 

Your brain speaks for your heart in this moment, sacrificing your feelings for the next couple of months for your sanity, putting down the glass and heading down to your shared bedroom without saying a word, pulling out a suitcase and packing what you needed most, you could leave behind items, that would be his problem as you would not be coming back. You grab what little trinkets you have that don’t remind you of him and start to leave for the front dorm when you are stopped by him. 

It’s only now do you take in the intoxicated state that he was in, though you’re pretty sure that by now he’s sobered up, messy hair that seems to poke out at every angle, definitely having felt the fingers of many a woman comb through it. You also notice the slight rouge colour that’s been attempted to have been smeared off, a clear sign at the man’s infidelity. It’s pathetic really, that you had once been enamoured with the man that stands in front of you but now here you are, leaving behind the one thing that has held you back this whole time. You don’t know where you’ll go but anywhere is better than this place that you once thought was the place you’d grow old with each other in, but that was before you truly woke up. Sometimes it’s best to leave things in the past and Lando Norris is a great example of this, though you’ll never forget when it was real, when you were both happy. 

Maybe it was meant to be at a time but it wasn’t meant forever. 

“Where are you going?” His voice snaps you out of your monologue that you preach in your head. 

“I’m leaving and I am not coming back.” 

At first he thinks you're joking but the strong demeanour you hold on your face shows that you are doing anything but. 

“B-but I love you y/n.”

You scoff.

“So? Please let me go Lando.” You say, voice laced with desperation.

So he does, he lets you go and you don’t dare look back.

[pianokantzart]

Why do you think (movie) Bowser is obsessed with Peach? Do you think he takes her personality into account but takes it too far, or do you think it's completely shallow? The imaginary Peaches that popped up during his song wore facial expressions that the real Peach would never wear, plus she seemed genuinely shocked when he proposed, so that makes me wonder how well they even know each other. I'm curious as to HOW they knew each other pre-movie, since they clearly did know each other well enough to have some judgements about one another.

Okay, so this is my take: The main things we know for sure is that Bowser and Peach have been sworn enemies for years, and that Peach's resentment toward Bowser only fuels the flames of his infatuation (pardon the pun).

Some additional details we can glean is that Peach leaves her kingdom pretty regularly judging by the ease with which she traverses surrounding lands and the casualness with which she bids her toads goodbye.

I theorize that Princess Peach has acted as kind of a proto-Mario in the past, traveling around to help various kingdoms combat Bowser's attempts at world domination. Unfortunately for her, her poise, resolve, and especially her beauty, seem to have caught the enemy's eye.

The fact that Bowser's army traveled all the way out to The Mushroom Kingdom for the sake of love rather than for the sake of revenge came as a surprise to everyone, but at the same time Bowser doesn't seem like the type to undergo journeys like that out of pure spite. He had an end-goal; a prize he wanted to claim which... in this instance... was Princess Peach herself.

I think while his "love" is shallow, the reasons behind it are multifaceted: Whatever Bowser wants, he takes. He won't accept no for an answer, and reacts to any sort of pushback with violence. At the same time, for all his power he's an extremely unhappy and lonely person. His minions may respect him and Kamek may worship the ground he walks on, but he can't form a bond with yes-men. Peach is both desirable on an aesthetic level and strong-willed enough that even if he was to force her into marriage, she's not going to just bow her head and fall in line like everyone else.

His ultimate dream is to eventually prove himself so cool, so great, so powerful, so indomitable, that she can't help but fall for him in return, earning him an equal companion, but unfortunately for him Princess Peach values inner strength and a strong sense of morality above any sort of wealth or power.

[sisterdivinium]

It’s tempting to think of Jillian as an atheist given her connexion to science, her confrontation with the church in s1 and simply as a counterpoint to all the religious characters around her. I’ve used the word for her myself in fic before, but I did it fully knowing that Jillian is perhaps the character who most wants to believe.

There’s an implication that she speaks from experience when she tells Kristian one doesn’t ever really leave the church…

… And her firm principle of proving faith and science can coexist shows she has no intention of dismantling faith in itself or the value people find in spirituality.

When Luther supposedly nailed his objections to that fateful church door, he didn't intend to shake the core of what faith actually is—quite the contrary, one could argue.

Neither is Jillian trying to destabilise faith in itself... The difference is that she just decided to build her own door instead.

The church might stand in her way, yes, but one could could make a case about how it is more due to their keeping of divinium than to the criticism she directs at Vincent on the subject of Hell and the subjugation of women. She might well believe it—or any part of her performance during most of season one, really—but her conflict with the institution lies less in the way of ideology than in matters of practical consequences.

Were it not so, wouldn’t she have been a little more resistant to her son’s visions of an angel? Why believe in a child’s prophetic drawings otherwise? Even if she by any chance didn’t consider the giver of those visions an angel, the very fact of taking a vision seriously would suggest some degree of fidelity to the very idea of there being something more, something else than the life we know in this plane of existence.

If she doesn’t admit the existence of a god outright, she at least lends credence to the idea that there is something. We might not be able to take her fully at her word in the scenes where she’s playing her part as a seeker of knowledge maligned by the Vatican, but there is some amount of truth to what she says. She might not have truly found Heaven, she might not be able to prove her portal actually leads there...

… But she most certainly wants to be right. For Michael’s sake, there must be something else, even if not precisely what has been foreseen by scripture.

And, even so, she finds worth in that very scripture she doubts.

Perhaps she’s being honest when she tells Vincent she likes the stories—there’s a lot of knowledge to be found in even the simplest of them to she who knows how to seek it.

Perhaps there’s an underlying attachment of hers to the Bible, a past she cannot really abandon. It’s not all that common for people with absolutely no ties to Catholicism to have something like the image of a saint as decoration hanging in the background.

Sure, there are other religious elements scattered in her workplace including a Buddha, but it’s a man who used to be an archivist at the Vatican she hires, not a defected monk or rabbi.

Yes, she will work with anyone who is equally willing to work with her. It’s not from the goodness of her heart as there is a component of selfishness in such cooperation—one to which she admits herself—but her attitude is also a testament to the openness she has concerning the results she might obtain. Maybe the OCS is right, maybe there’s a God and saints and Heaven and Hell…

It doesn’t really matter as long as there is something, something to work towards, something to seek.

Or it didn’t matter—while Michael was alive.

She has had her proof of there being more... And she has paid a high price for learning of it.

It’s a pity we don’t know what she would have done with this information. How do we react when what we believe is confirmed to be true but not in the way we expected or desired?

Whatever shock the nuns have experienced to their faith in this business with Adriel, the perversion of the power of prayer and all else they've survived during season two, Jillian is likely to have felt the very same blow right alongside them.

[nightcolorz]

Armand surgical malpractice meta (spoilers for TVA)

It’s, at least from what I’ve seen, a pretty popularly agreed upon conception that Armand’s mutation of Claudia b4 her death as described in TVA didn’t actually happen..partly bcus it’s such a drastic and grotesque retcon from her death in interview with the vampire so lots of ppl don’t want to address it as canon, and partly bcus it’s so bizarre and seemingly unprompted in context that it just seems more plausible that Armand would make this up as some sort of twisted shock value rather then actually do it. I used to buy into this theory and never rlly thought about it beyond that, and today for the first time I thought about it deeply and realized. Damn I rlly disagree! I think that Armand 100% canonically chopped Claudia’s head off and sewed it onto an adult body. I believe it happened as told. And I have many reasons !

First and foremost I don’t think that Armand is actually capable of lying so deliberately in this context. Interpreting most tvc narrators as potentially lying to our faces and intentionally twisting events to suit a narrative and a purpose of dictating our perception of them is, I think, accurate and justified, and smth I love about this fandom. Everyone is not to be trusted 100%, especially Louis and Lestat, who are said and implied many times to have completely fabricated some events in the books for the sake of painting a picture. Tvc serve as this over arching plot about multiple conflicting characters manipulating events of their lives to suit a narrative that we as the audience can pick apart and discover the truth within. Very much “this bitch said WHAT about me?? that dumb cunt is always spreading lies smh, it actually happened LIKE THIS” (they r both not telling the full truth). Armand however is very much an outlier here, and it’s part of what makes TVA so unique as a chronicle. It’s a big part of his character throughout the series, in TVA and leading up to TVA, that Armand’s way of thinking is so dysfunctional and his memory is so flawed (bcus of all his trauma) (and neurodivergence) (imo) that he isn’t able to fully conceptualize the events of his life as chronological and meaningful in the way that one would need to do to be able to write a memoir.

He can’t describe events in broad strokes, or wrap his head around a vast emotional impact in a way that is explanatory or intentional. Think of that conversation he has with Daniel in queen of the damned, where he explains that he isn’t capable of telling Daniel what his life in the past “was like” because that’s a concept incomprehensible to him. He only knows what happened, not what it was like, not how it affected him or how it shaped his personhood, what it means etc. It’s a form of dissociation almost. The vampire armand is the first time in Armand’s vampiric life that he self reflects beyond acknowledging events and his emotions in that moment, it’s the first time he attempts to make connections and understand himself in a way that is narrative and structured and not fragmented bits of history and A names. Part of this requires further dissociation. I definitely get the impression that since Armand is being so vulnerable in a way he is so unused to, yet is so significant, he is unable to register while he’s talking that not only David, but millions of people including every vampire in the world, will know what he says. He’s just laying himself completely bare, he’s talking and talking and only once he finishes realizes oh. Oh. everyone’s going to read this huh. It’s so cathartic he doesn’t consider that in the moment. It’s the first time he’s ever been capable of reckoning with his life in a self reflective way, of looking at it and explaining it and reasoning with it, structuring it in order, not fragments, etc, seeing the cause and the impact and touching on an overall conclusion (tho he never entirely gets there). These baby steps are so difficult for him already, and considering this part of his character I really think it’s a stretch to say that Armand would be capable of the thought process in his book of pure venting to go “maybe I should twist the truth here or change this or add this or lie about this so people will think of me this way or so Lestat can see this, etc” TVA is unreliable, more so bcus of how mentally ill armand is and how little he understands his own life and emotions, but not deliberately like iwtv and tvl. Armand even says that the book was for Benji and Sybelle, but it’s so unfiltered and horrific and vent-like that this sounds ridiculous. He doesn’t even have his stated audience in mind while he’s telling his story, let alone his broader audience. The audience was a complete afterthought, a barely registered consequence. So why would he lie about Claudia? How would he be capable?

it’s another common piece of conversation around this part of TVA where we go, Armand discusses how he never would want to tell this to Louis bcus he knows how badly it would hurt him, so why did he describe it so graphically? Well, cause of all I mentioned. It seems pretty clear to me that armand is almost haunted by the affair with Claudia, and he has no way of lying about this, so his descriptions seemed very much to me like a desperate bit of venting. He has never told anyone how horrific it actually was and it’s always been in his mind, so he just lets it all out. Makes sense, but the broader question is, if Armand wasn’t lying…why did he do that at all?? This I think is so interesting.

To understand this I had to think a lot about Armand’s motivations for killing Claudia at all, which is well, simply, revenge against Lestat and claiming of Louis without barriers. If Claudia dies Lestat will be sad and Louis will be mine and mine alone 👍👍 etc. but Claudia’s mutation was not rooted in either of these motivations, which is part of why it’s so shocking. He didn’t do it to hurt Lestat, lestat never found out. It just seems so odd and unprompted. But once I thought more about why Armand hates Lestat, and why he wants to hurt him by killing Claudia, it started to fit into place. Armand’s hatred for Lestat is rooted very much in his twisted resemblance to Marius that he perceives as being very strong and basically mocking. When he first sees Lestat in tvl he’s repulsed by him instantly bcus he sees him as this parody of Marius, this beautiful blonde man in striking red robes who boldly and carelessly defies the laws of vampires established by the children of Satan as if they are meaningless to him, revels in the indulgent world of humans like he belongs there, shamelessly as armand devotes himself to miserable repression. It strikes a nerve for armand, feels very personally offensive to him, like the embodiment of the traits that got Marius’s destroyed r coming back to mock him in his face. And then as he gets to know Lestat more deeply he only hates him more, bcus Lestat is not only bold and careless, but he’s immature and stupid, and he knows nothing. Armand in his horribly traumatized mind set registers Lestat as “like Marius” and takes this to mean “maybe he can save me, maybe he will teach me and free me from this hell, guide me and give me the purpose I need to be given.” But Lestat does not do this, lmfao. He actually destroys any sense of purpose armand had, rips him from his safety net, and when Armand begs for guidance, asks to be allowed to travel alongside Lestat so he can learn to be a person again, Lestat denies him. The only purpose he bothers to give him is the scraps, symbolic of his perverse indulgence that Armand despises, and fucks off. Lestat is grotesquely reminiscent of Marius, in the worst ways. It’s like his presence alone opens Armand’s eyes to how badly Marius has ruined him. He was the sun, the purpose, the guiding light, and then it was ripped away, and there was nothing else without him. Just a void.

So Armand hates Lestat for this very personal mockery of his own plight, and this hatred spirals into unbridled rage when Lestat returns to him and expects Armand to give Lestat the assistance that he denied him. Not only this, but Lestat found Marius, found marius and was granted guidance and love that Marius refused to give Armand after his indoctrination into the children of Satan. And Marius told Lestat to never ever do what he did, never make an Armand, because Armand was a mistake, he was too young to be a vampire, and now he’s a mistake he will never forgive himself for. And with this immense privilege that Armand spent a huge chunk of his life yearning for, guidance from Marius when he was his most lost, Lestat decides to disregard it. He decides that since Marius said it was bad to turn a child as young as Armand, he’d turn a child even younger then Armand, just cuz. He is once again the embodiment of Marius’s sins, the grotesque parody. Marius turned a teenager, Lestat turns a five year old. It’s almost cruel in how mocking it is, almost intentional in how personal. So Claudia is this child, this deliberate mistake made by someone who knew her turning would be harmful to her but was selfish enough not to care, then went on to regret it when he has to reckon with the consequences. Seem familiar? Armand sure thought so. So I imagine that being alone with Claudia, looking this deeply sad reflection of his own agony in the eyes, knowing she is about to die for justice against a warped parody of his Maker, for the sake of punishment for her own existence, I imagine this struck a cord of insanity in Armand’s fucked up mind, caused him to loose his absolute shit for just long enough to go what if I can fix her, what if I can turn this narrative around, give her the remarkable ending I know deep down that she, I , will never be granted. What if I can give her a body that will reflect her mind? What if I can make this abomination into a miracle? No wonder he pulled out the surgical tools 😭 No wonder he was so horrified by his own actions when he came to his senses, no wonder he refused to share this, kept it to himself for so long, until he finally broke and confessed it all in a desperate moment when he was too caught up in the dam breaking to realize he’d be exposing this horrific action to the world.

Armand sees Claudia as a repulsive mistake that should’ve never existed made by Lestat to deliberately mock him up until the surgery, when then for only a moment lost to time ended in blood she is another child who had her life taken from her too soon by an egotistical blonde man who thought he could play god with someone’s life. “They were done for anyway, he was going to starve to death in a brothel, she was going to die as a street orphan, the blood would be a service to them, a chance they never had” But they both know that’s a lie they tell themselves to justify the act of taking a child and molding it into what they please for fun, for pleasure, for companionship, just to see what would happen. Armand sees this for a moment and wants to give her a chance, give them both a chance, wants to see her as an adult, as someone who could have a life. And then of course, we know how that turns out 😭

[sakufilms]

Time Repeats Itself

MASTERLIST

⌁ the umbrella academy x gn!teen!reader (platonic)

⌁ instead of that horrible room being empty all those years, reginald hargreeves locked you in it. what happens when you’re found by your siblings on the day of reginald’s funeral? // angst, hurt/comfort

⌁ 5.6k words

! : abuse/child abuse, confinement, isolation, the room viktor was locked in in season 1, pre-transition viktor (takes place s1e1/canon compliant), reggie hargreeves

Klaus

Klaus Hargreeves was rather known for his curious nature. The way he was constantly talking, lazily observing at all times. Small observations in his adolescence blossomed into somewhat of a sharp eye in his adult years, which he used for finding money for drugs. Anything to keep the spirits at bay.

His hand dragged along the wall of his childhood home as he scoured the halls, but he only saw it as a prison. The building that took up an entire square block, once constantly surrounded by fans and paparazzi, and now nothing more than any other old boring building on the street. Klaus laughed under his breath. Good riddance. If anyone deserved to fail so horribly it was that asshole of a father, Reginald Hargreeves himself.

Klaus began to whistle a tune lightly; something random and off the top of his head. His eyes flickered over books and knickknacks. Nothing so far looked worth selling. Nothing of enough value. His father was rich for fucks sake, there’s gotta be something good around this damned mansion.

He sighed, and Ben pouted mockingly. “Oh, Dad’s funeral isn’t as exhilarating as you’d hoped?”

Klaus waved him off. “No, no. Funeral hasn’t happened yet. We still have time for fun.” He joked lamely.

The living man and the ghost turned a corner. The hall was quite empty, and Klaus did a 180° dramatically at the sight, groaning into the palms of his hands. Where’s the good stuff?

”Klaus.” Ben sounded . . . shocked? Confused? Curious?

”What do you want, Benerino?” Klaus turned again with a huff. Ben was pointing ahead of him with furrowed brows. Klaus’ eyes flickered to his brothers line of sight, and he tilted his head. There was an elevator at the end of the hallway, standing proud with a menacing feel to it. “Oh, that’s odd.”

”Yeah, no kidding.”

Klaus jumped to the opportunity, skipping down the hall to the mystery elevator. “Think there’s something worth selling in wherever this leads?”

Ben scoffed, following him hastily. “No, Klaus— an elevator that Dad never told us about? It’s probably something more than something worth selling.” Ben’s arms were crossed over his chest as Klaus clicked the button for the elevator.

”Something more? So what you’re saying is I could be rich? Besides, Dad didn’t tell us a lot of things. Also, this house is huge, makes total sense that we missed it.” Klaus hummed to himself.

Klaus made some points, but Ben was hesitant. “No, I’m saying that maybe—“

”Ah! Here we go.” The elevator opened slowly, and Klaus strode in, Ben right behind him. There were two buttons in the elevator, Klaus clicked the bottom one which was labeled ’B’.

”Really, Klaus?”

”Mm-hmm.”

Ben sighed. “You should just be more careful sometimes.”

Klaus nodded, eyes distant. He wasn’t paying attention at all.

The elevator dinged, and Klaus silently cheered, stepping out. His smile fell in an instant. The room was almost completely empty, apart from one thing.

At the end of the room was a large, prison like metal door. There was a small window to see the inside, and he crept forward, careful and slow. Whatever this was, it made him feel uneasy.

He peered through the thick glass, and he could’ve swore his heart stopped beating in his chest. Inside, there was someone young occupying the room. They wore loose, baggy clothing. Nothing much, just the colour of simple grey. They sat on a bed in the centre of the cell, which only had white bedsheets and a white pillow to match. There was a small bedside table to the left of the bed, and on it was just one single book. The room itself was padded spikey walls and dim lights—it was no place for a teenager. And, God, how long have they been in here?

Klaus’ heart clenched because no, no, no. This was too familiar to him. Flashes of being locked in a mausoleum for hours and hours on end poured over him and clouded his vision and he couldn’t hear anything but the beating of his own heart. They can’t be in there, they can’t—

They slowly looked up, made eye contact with Klaus, and with a start they backed up until their back hit the back of the bed frame. They looked confused, but then realization hit them like a freight train, and they sat in place, body tense.

”Oh, my God . . .” Ben broke the heavy silence.

”What do I . . .” Klaus cut himself short. His mind was swarmed with thoughts and emotions, he didn’t know what to do— because what the fuck? He knew his dad was bad, but this is just insane.

You

Mom was always caring; kind. You didn’t mind that she was a robot, she treated you like a parent should. As if she were human and you were made from her blood and cells. A child of her own, though she was made. You knew it was all in her programming, but it filled you with joy nonetheless. She’d bring you new books for your reading time, with all sorts of topics and plots. She’d bring you your snacks and cook you meals, and she’d take care of you. You knew Mom—you liked her.

Pogo always had this hurting look in his eyes when your eyes met his. You never understood it, but it made your senses tingle and you always felt a pull of energy, a headache forming between your eyes. You always knew your powers were trying to reach out and uncover the secret, but you weren’t strong enough. Besides, it wasn’t in your power to read minds. You still sensed something, however. But you knew Pogo too, and you liked him.

You didn’t know many things about family dynamics, and you never had the chance to fully understand social cues as your closest friend had always been silence, but you knew that Reginald treated you how a father shouldn’t. He claimed to care about you, but you saw how in the few times that he’s admitted that, he had a calculating look in his eye. He treated you like an experiment, not his child. You hardly left the padded box. You only left for training, and using the bathroom. All the rooms were in the basement, which according to Mom, it’s not how things used to be at the academy. You knew Dad, you . . . didn’t like him. But his words had stained your bones, he raised you, he took care of you, he was your father. You wouldn’t admit that you didn’t like him.

The man standing in front of you however, you didn’t know at all. His familiarity led you to believe you had seen him in a vision, but you didn’t know him.

Why is he here, why is he here—

The funeral is today.

With that thought in mind, you were frozen in place. All of your siblings who you had never met before would all be coming today—that, you knew. You dreamt about it while in your deepest stage of sleep. It was hazy and cloudy, but you saw it. The thought of them coming home left you excited and overly nervous, but now that one of your siblings was standing in front of you, you were frozen still.

He had a shaggy appearance, yet he didn’t look awful. His clothing style seemed very out there—extravagant, and joyful. It was everything his expression wasn’t. He looked shocked, scared, confused, hurt.

His lips were moving but you couldn’t hear a thing courtesy of the thick metal box you were placed in. The expression he wore looked almost unnatural for a face like his—he had very prominent smile lines, but now his lips were tugged downward and his brows were drawn together.

He began reaching to the large wheel attached to the door. He’s letting me out? Why is he letting me out? Where are we going?

He began twisting the large wheel, face pinching together in frustration. The metal groaned and creaked from the age of the room and the lack of use of the handle. Ever since Reginald’s death, you left the box less often. It hurt you deeply, knowing Pogo and Mom were still roaming the halls. They checked in rather often, but you didn’t leave to train anymore. It pained you to know that Mom and Pogo still lived trapped in Reginald’s power and rules. Even after death had taken him, your father was still hurting you.

The door opened with a hiss, and you clutched the bedsheets so tight your knuckles changed colour. The man—Klaus, you had the sudden knowledge that that was his name—stepped in hesitantly.

”Uhm . . .” It was clear he didn’t know how to approach the situation. You didn’t either, and your mouth remained clamped shut. “Who are you?” He looked unsure if that was the right thing to ask.

Your response was nothing but heavy breaths and tensed up muscles.

He nodded slowly, an emotion akin to sadness flickering in his green eyes. “Well, I’m Klaus.” You were tempted to tell him you already knew that, but you didn’t.

He glanced to his left nervously, opened his mouth to speak, but ended up saying nothing. He turned back to you. “Are you o— why are you in here?”

You know exactly why you’re in here. You heard Reginald talk about it in a flashback—you don’t get them often but when you do they’re immensely painful, sometimes ending with nosebleeds.

You’ve had two about Reginald. The first time you had one, Reginald sat alone in his office. It was a flashback from years ago, just before you were born. His children were growing older, the academy was falling apart. You had the urge to think he looked somber, but no. He looked thoughtful.

He opened a compartment in his office closet, typed in a code, and pulled out something that baffled you. It was glowing, bright as ever. Small orbs floating around in a glass jar. He observed it for a moment, went over to the window, and set the orbs free, floating off into the night.

You didn’t know what that flashback meant, but the next one was painfully clear. You remembered the anger on his face, his quick steps.

‘I don’t think this is a good idea, Sir.’ Pogo had said, distressed.

’No, I will not change my mind. The academy is already falling apart as it is. I need complete control this time. This is the only option.’ Reginald had replied fiercely. That was how you knew that you’d be stuck in the box forever.

Your lips parted to speak, but this was all new to you. The fear that encased you was thicker than the metal surrounding you.

”Okay, okay . . .” Klaus nodded, talking more to himself. “I . . . will be right back. Uh, don’t go anywhere.” He started into a quick walk out the door, stopping to make sure it was all the way open. You frowned as he walked away, confusion settling in your stomach. Why did he leave it open?

You thought about leaving, as the opportunity was given to you.

You didn’t.

With the open door, you could hear things again. There were multiple footsteps coming from above, and you curled further in on yourself. Your siblings were all here.

Footsteps came closer and closer, more than one pair. Not too many, maybe two.

”Klaus, what the hell is this?” A man with a prominent scar on the right side of his head—Diego—said lowly. His eyes were wide, he looked startled. He looked frightened.

”I don’t know, I— I found the elevator, came to see what there was, and . . .” Klaus’ voice broke off. He fiddled with his fingers. Again, he glanced over to the side.

The two stepped into the box, and Diego spoke. ”Who are you?” He almost sounded mad, and you would’ve thought he was if not for the way he looked at you. “Kid, what’s your name?”

You felt your nerves spike, his body was covered with an array of knives. “Eight.”

Diego gave a heavy sigh. Klaus looked sad.

”Why are you here?” He asked. It seemed to be a frequently asked question today. “How long have you been here?”

You were rendered speechless again. Diego sighed again, and pointed at Klaus. “You, you stay here. I’m getting the others.” Diego walked away hurriedly. You weren’t sure you were ready to see the others, but he had so many knives. You shouldn’t argue.

Klaus looked at the way you were near trembling. ”Are you okay?”

You looked at him, he seemed kind. You relaxed your muscles a bit. You nodded at his question, even though your answer was a lie.

He looked to his right, a questioning look on his face. He seemed to look at nothing like that a lot. It confused you. “You like to read?” You got the feeling he was trying to calm you, but you weren’t sure if it was working. It didn’t make you feel worse, however.

He was looking down at the book on your desk. The Giver by Lois Lowry. “Yes.” You said. You liked this book a lot. It was your favourite.

The world Jonas lived in felt familiar to you, in some way, if you twisted the plot a little. The way each day was the same, the way there were so many rules. You saw a bit of yourself in the The Giver himself, too. The way he passed on memories to Jonas reminded you of how you’d get visions sometimes with human contact, or even by touching an object.

You hoped that one day you’d get to break free from your own world of sameness, and see the world how it really was. You wanted to leave this box.

“That’s cool,” you didn’t think that Klaus himself was a reader, his voice sounded a bit flat when he spoke. It was how Reginald spoke when he said he cared about you. “I know someone who likes to read.”

”Who is it?”

He nodded to himself, breathing in deeply. “My brother.” He laughed nervously. “Our brother, I guess.”

Footsteps grew louder and closer, and you tensed up again. Multiple people came into your line of vision. It was unsettling, this was all so new to you. You had never been around so many people. As much as you had wished to be around others, it was much more frightening than you’d expected.

The first person to enter was Diego. The next person was tall, he looked stern. It made your stomach churn— he was so so tall, and the box was so small. You felt unsafe in a way. You felt trapped. More trapped than you ever had in the box. He didn’t look as comforting as Klaus. The next person was a beautiful woman, her bleached blonde curly hair standing out on her skin, and she was dressed semi-casual. She seemed very kind, and the way she was gazing at you with her hurt and confusion filled eyes felt motherly. The last person stood awkwardly, but her expression was nothing but. An emotion peeked through the emotionless face she had, it was clear as day. It was anger.

”Diego, what the hell is going on?” The woman with bleach blonde hair asked—Allison. Her name was Allison.

”I don’t—“ Diego turned to you again, then took a step closer. “Why are you here?” He’d asked the question again. You looked around the room, body rigid. The way everyone was looking at you made you uncomfortable. It was so much attention, it was too much.

“Diego, give them some space.” The awkward one—Vanya, your brain supplied—said. Diego looked upset, but he listened, backing away. “Are you seeing this? Look at what that asshole did while we were gone.”

You pushed yourself up to your bed frame further, arms beginning to shake for how long you’ve held yourself in that tense position.

”You know what? Luther,” the tall man looked shocked that Diego was addressing him, “why didn’t you say anything? You were here when they were. You never even moved out, Space Boy.”

Luther’s frowned deepened, and he towered over Diego. The tension in the room was building, your heart racing. “Watch it. I didn’t even know they were here.”

”Okay, guys,” Allison held up a hand, stepping in between the two, “you’re stressing them out.”

The sound of the clacking of heels eased you, and you felt more at home again. If you focused on the sound, breathing in and out slowly, maybe you could forget the world around you, and fall into the comforting arms of your mother. “Oh, Hello, dears.” Mom’s smile was wide, and she looked around, her head turning robotically. “I see you’ve met your sibling.” She clasped her hands in front of her.

”Mom, what’s going on?” Diego stepped toward her, eyes softening at her. You realized that Diego loved Mom as much as you did.

”What do you mean, Diego?”

”I— they’re—“

Mom placed a gentle hand on Diego’s shoulder. “Picture the word in your head, dear.”

”No, that’s not what I—“

”Mom, why are they in the basement?” Allison cut in, giving you worried glances.

”Your father doesn’t like when I talk about this.” This was the first time you had seen Mom look something other than joyful. The ends of her brows pulled down, and her smile fell.

“Mom,” Diego started softly, “Dad’s dead.”

Moms shoulders sagged. “Oh, that’s right,” She smiled again, standing completely upright, “I suppose you’ll just have to ask Pogo, hmm?” You’d noticed that Mom had been acting stranger lately; she had been ever since Dad died. She was never human, but lately that’s been more clear then ever.

Mom turned and left, going back to the elevator. If she had been human, you imagined she’d walk with a bounce in her step to fit her peppy personality. Her smile would look less artificial, too.

Your siblings all looked back at you. There were varying expressions: awkwardness, confusion, nervousness, upset.

Allison was the one to move first. “Do you get out of the house often?”

You merely shook your head. I don’t get out at all.

“Do you leave this . . . box often?”

You shook your head again.

Vanya seemed to tense up at that. You wondered why. The reason was just barely in your grasp, nothing but flashes of a time long ago. It was all hazy and you couldn’t quite tell what any of it meant. You felt a headache forming at the straining.

Allison walked forward slowly, reaching for your shoulder. You didn’t move, so she gently rested her hand down. She was as gentle as a mother should be—she was as gentle as Mom was. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had a child of her own. “How about we go upstairs, all right?” She smiled kindly at you.

You were left speechless. You couldn’t even remember ever stepping in the elevator, let alone going on another floor. The idea of it made you feel nervous, yet eager. You slowly nodded.

Allison smiled kindly, but she kept glancing at the others. She helped you stand, and your hand immediately reached for hers. It was muscle memory; you always held Mom’s hand when you went to train. Your heart lurched when you realized you were holding a strangers hand, but she didn’t seem to mind.

You stepped out of the box, and this was the first time you felt apprehensive while doing so. You weren’t going to train—you were going upstairs. You walked slower, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look up. It took everything in you not to squeeze Allison’s hand too tight—and everything in you not to let go. It was strange, really. You didn’t know her, but she was being so nice.

You stepped into the rickety elevator, and you soon felt even more nervous when everyone else stepped in as well. So many people trying not to look at you, but you still caught their glances. It was so crowded, you didn’t have enough space to breathe. It was too much, it’s too much—

Allison began to rub her thumb over the back of your hand. You didn’t realize you were shaking until that moment, as the world was blurry around you and the only thing you could focus on was this room was too small.

There was a scraping sound, indicating the elevators age. The doors slowly opened, the others filed out hurriedly. You took in a breath of air, feeling it rush into your lungs. Your heart was beating fast, hitting your sternum with every beat. You felt unfit to walk all of a sudden, like your legs would give out at any moment.

Allison began to walk, and you eventually moved your legs to go with her, your shaking hand still in hers. You kept looking down. You didn’t like how many people were looking at you. It was too much.

“How about we get you in some nicer clothes?” Allison said. You looked down at what you were wearing—your regular clothes, just grey. The fabric was semi-comfortable, a little bit itchy, but you had grown used to it over time. All of your clothes had been that way. What else were you supposed to wear? ”What . . . do you mean?”

Allison looked at Vanya for a second. “Well, do you have anything else? Don’t you think it’d be nice to change?”

You shrugged. You didn’t have anything else.

Allison insisted you wore something better anyway. You went to her room, and immediately decided you didn’t like her old clothes. They fit just fine, but they were so colourful in contrast to your bland attire. You didn’t like how it made you stand out. You ended up taking some of Vanya’s old clothes instead, it was quite similar to what she wore now, and you liked that. It had some of the softest fabric you had ever felt, but the colours were still dull, like you were used to.

After a few more twists and turns in the extremely confusing layout of the house, you found Mom. You stood awkwardly in the doorway. You had never been in the kitchen before.

”Oh, there they are!” Klaus said semi loudly. You didn’t even realize everyone was in here until now. Klaus still looked nervous and upset—which was the opposite of how he sounded—and the others looked tense.

Mom turned around from the counter and smiled. “Oh, well isn’t it nice to see you all together again.” It felt odd to be included, you realized.

Mom began putting plates onto the table, one for each sibling, and then she put a tray in the centre of the table. There were fruits and cheese and crackers, one of your favourite snacks. Mom would bring it down to you often. “Eat up!” She grinned.

Vanya put a hesitant hand on your back, guiding you to the table. She seemed to understand that the amount of people was making you uncomfortable, so she led you to the chair at the end of the table.

When her hand came in contact with your back, you gasped, freezing in place. Your eyes glazed over, a white film covering them as you were thrown into a vision—no, a flashback.

You saw padded walls and dim lights, a small window at the end of the room. The box. You didn’t see much, just flashes, but you still got the picture.

Vanya had been in the box before.

“Eight?” Vanya lifted a finger, tapping your back lightly. “Are you all right?”

Everyone was still looking at you, and the idea of them being there while you had a vision made you nervous. You only nodded.

Vanya seemed unsure, as she most definitely saw the change in colour of your eyes, but she continued to lead you to your chair, and then took the one next to you. You waited for the others to grab their food first, but they didn’t. Instead, Vanya slid the tray near your plate and smiled gently at you, giving you a nod. You tried to ignore the way they were still looking at you, and you grabbed some apple slices, along with some cheese and crackers.

Your fingers shook lightly, and Vanya saw it, then spoke. “What do we do?” You hoped she was okay. You didn’t like the box, yourself; she must not of liked it either.

”Well, isn’t it simple, Vanya?” Klaus took a sip from a bottle of alcohol, and Vanya just furrowed her brows, “we don’t give Dad a funeral, he doesn’t deserve it.”

Diego and Allison just shrugged, while Luther looked outraged, but he took one glance at you and hesitated.

You weren’t sure what to think about Dad having a funeral or not. He was your Dad, the only one you ever had, but he didn’t quite raise you, and he certainly didn’t care for you. Not on a parent-child level anyway. He only cared for you in the name of science.

Diego leaned back in his chair. “I don’t think he deserved a funeral anyway.”

That caused Luther to snap. “Diego!”

Diego opened his mouth to argue, but Allison held up a hand. “Guys,” she frowned in a disappointed manner, “enough.”

You’d spent so long wanting to leave the basement, but now that you were out and free, you felt so strange and out of place. You weren’t as prepared as you wished you were, even with the amount of books you had read. All sorts of genres, too, and you still felt lost. It was like when Klaus had found you, the world went on a standstill and all the attention was on you, which was something you were not ready for.

Not only that, but not even hundreds of books could have prepared you for the amount of items that belonged to a home, or just to people themselves. You’d passed many knickknacks on your way here, and the walls were far from empty with the paintings covering every inch of them. You had the urge to go inspect everything—it was extremely different from the box.

There was a sigh to your left, and you turned. It was Pogo. “I see you’ve found your sibling.” You didn’t like the way he said found instead of met. You weren’t a thing to be found, discovered, and figured out. You were a person with feelings, still figuring things out—and frankly, you were still figuring feelings out as well, no matter how much you’ve learned on your own.

”Found?” Vanya's soft voice was on the verge of incredulous.

“My apologies,” Pogo said, head hanging in shame at his choice of words. He wasn’t bad, not like Reginald was, but no one could deny the mistakes he’s made. “I suppose it’s time for your fathers secret to be revealed.”

Luther held his head high Pogos words. You didn’t like how much respect Luther showed your father.

Pogo gripped his cane harder between his fingers for a moment, sighing while looking down at the floor. “Your father had always been so set in his ways that no matter what I did, it was hardly possible to convince him to change anything,”

”That doesn’t make this any better, Pogo.” Allison frowned.

Pogo nodded slightly. “Yes, that’s true. I did try my best to stop this from happening—“

”What exactly is this? Why the hell were they down there?” Diego was tense, and you had to continually convince yourself that he wasn’t angry at you.

”When Eight was born, it was very much the same as you. It was just as strange and sudden, and your father wasted almost no time in getting them. They were raised downstairs their entire life for a reason I never knew, but trust me I tried to stop it.”

”Should’ve tried harder.” Klaus’ lips were pursed together in a tense frown and he was gripping his bottle tightly.

“While I was trying,” Pogo started solemnly, “Grace and I would bring them books, and sometimes Grace would teach them if your father let her. We wanted to prepare them as best as we could for the day they’d finally leave.”

It wasn’t enough, and you knew that. You were already so overwhelmed it was almost unbearable.

All of your siblings began talking at once, their voices gradually growing in volume to the point where the amount of sound you were hearing all at once became deafening. Your hands shot up to your ears, desperation swallowing you whole. You had never heard so much sound—the box was always so, so quiet.

The voices slowly grew quiet, and you opened your eyes to find everyone staring at you apologetically. You removed your hands from your ears and placed them at your side. You were no longer hungry, as discomfort settled in your stomach. You didn’t like the attention.

”Children,” Pogo began, “if you’d like to know more, feel free to ask. I will answer what I can but perhaps it’d be better to talk privately.” Pogo turned to leave the room, and no one followed. You had an inkling that they would rather talk later.

”I need to think.” Luther stood up abruptly, leaving the room. The siblings began filing out the room after that, each of them sending you hurt and sad glances. Eventually it was just you, Vanya, Klaus and Mom. Vanya stood to leave the room, but she looked at Klaus hesitantly. Her eyes eventually landed on Mom and her shoulders relaxed, and she left the room, too.

You felt more comfortable now. The room was almost empty, and Mom was here. If you thought hard enough maybe you could pretend Klaus wasn’t there, and it was just you and Mom, in the box.

But with a deep breath, you knew that wasn’t true. Klaus’ personality, however, did put you at ease. You were glad that it was him that stayed rather than Luther.

You tapped the table lightly, focusing on that and Mom’s humming.

“Wasn’t it so nice meeting your siblings, dear?” Mom said, turning around with a grin. Her joyful personality made you feel at home again.

You only shrugged in reply, and saw Klaus’ shoulders sag.

”We are quite the group, aren’t we?” He said lightly. You didn’t respond.

Klaus nodded to himself, setting his bottle down on a nearby chair. He was sitting on top of the table, fiddling with his necklace.

Klaus may have started talking, or maybe he didn’t, you didn’t know. You were stuck in your own head, a vision hitting you in flashes.

A blue flash; flickering faces; a boy in baggy clothes.

A sound began playing loud enough to be heard in the kitchen. It was a song you didn’t know the lyrics to—to be fair, you didn’t know many songs.

Klaus reacted first. He began dancing without a care in the world, and you felt the tension in your shoulders fade away. The song was relaxing, as was Klaus’ obnoxious personality. Klaus swayed around the kitchen gleefully, his eyes closed with a wistful expression on his face. The corner of your mouth twitched.

You began tapping your finger on the table lightly. It didn’t take you long to find the beat.

You didn’t jump around the room like Klaus was doing, but you were feeling a hint of joy all the same.

Then there was a noise—a blue flash. It was loud and terrifying. Knives and forks and kitchen utensils flew across the room, one missing your ear only slightly before it impaled the wall. You flinched backwards, your chair knocking over as you reached for the counter.

Klaus looked startled as well, freezing in place and turning to you. “Uh, stay here.” He grabbed a fire extinguisher, and he ran off.

The feeling of being alone was suddenly unwanted again, like how you felt this morning before you’d met any of your siblings. You were frightened and alone, and you didn’t know what to do.

Except, before you were trapped, in a completely sealed and closed off room. Now, you were out in the open, you had access to whatever you wanted, and yet you couldn’t move. Or rather, you wouldn’t. Walls were what held you back before, but now you had nothing but your own fear in your way. Fear thick as the box walls.

You had the faintest idea of what was happening outside—flickering faces—and the idea of facing it firsthand made your stomach churn. Being in the kitchen for the first time was one thing, standing in front of a glowing blue ball was something else entirely.

Something you weren’t prepared for, however, was a blue light flashing in the middle of the kitchen. It was much smaller, quieter, and quicker, but it was shocking all the same. Someone was now standing in front of you—a boy in baggy clothes.

His face scrunched up at the sight of you, who was still gripping the counter with fear-filled eyes. “Who are you?”

You didn’t reply.

He tilted his head, his confusion clearly growing stronger.

Klaus then ran into the kitchen breathlessly, stopping to put his hands on his knees, taking in deep breaths. Diego shoved him, entering the room as well, your other siblings soon following. Klaus eventually stood next to you with a sigh, keeping about 2 feet of distance. Assumingly for your own comfort.

”Who’s this?” The boy looked to them. His name was Five, you thought.

”Our sibling.” Klaus nods, painting a gleeful expression on his face. You couldn’t tell if the joy he was showing was real or not.

Five pauses, eyes flickering to you. “Our what?”

“Yeah, a lot’s been going on today.”

“Our sibling,” Five says again, more to himself, “okay, we don’t have time for this. What’s the date? The exact date.”

[anime-owo-kage-san]

Husk rescuing Angel from Valentino or pretty much any danger in general is still my favorite —incredibly common but still favorite— huskerdust trope. Especially, him (whether in comics or in fanfics) carrying Angel in his arms and flying to safety —Aaaah! 🥺 That’s a whole fluffy dessert for me!

I try to find and read every fanfic and comic I see (AU or canon-divergent), especially the ones where Husk wins Angel’s contract from Valentino.

I know Angel Dust shouldn’t be subjected to being a damsel in distress, because there is more to his character. But, like… come on. While the sweet thing doesn’t really need protection, he needs to feel and know somebody will do it anyway.

Ofc, this is just my craving in fanworks.

As for canon and what I actually want to see happen in the show, to get Angel free from his contract:

1.) Angel shoots/stabs/etc. Val from the fucking front (with some slight hesitance because he technically ruined his clean-streak for doing it).

Oooor, what I like better, bc it involves Huskerdust:

2.) Husk invites both Angel and Valentino somewhere private, to make a bet through poker.

Husk: “One round of poker. You lose, Angel’s soul no longer belongs to you. You win, you get to keep his contract.”

Angel panics and tries to knock some sense into Husk, even though Valentino is disinterested in the whole thing and was going to say no anyway, but plot twist ——>

Angel: “Do I have to slap the fucking White Knight Syndrome outta ya!? I told ya, ya crazy motherfucker! I can handle myself!”

Husk: *smiles* “I know.” *hands Angel his the deck of cards* “Which is why I’m letting you, handle this. Go win your soul back, Legs.”

Angel: *shocked* “B-But that’s even worse! I only beat you, like… once in this game!”

Husk: “And you only need to beat Valentino once too. I know you can do it. But, if you think you can’t, well….” *smirks* “That’s why I’m here.”

Angel: “What do you mean…?”

Husk: “Since you suck at valuing yourself so much, I thought of giving you a better motivation to work with.”

Angel: “Better motivation…?”

Husk: *turns to Valentino* “There’s more; if you win, you not only get to keep Angel, but you get to have my soul too.”

Angel: “HUSK!”

Valentino: “HA! And why would I want the soul of a old rundown alley cat?”

Husk: “My soul is owned by Alastor. Imagine what Vox would think, about the idea of Alastor losing one of his souls to you.”

Angel: “Does Smiles know about this deal yer makin’ right now!?”

Husk: “Yes, he does. And he agreed to it.”

Valentino: *still disinterested* “Not convinced, gatito. You’re still not rubbing me the right way~”

Husk: “I’m not done. I’m not like any other soul, he owns.”

Valentino: “Mmhmm…”

Husk: “I have some information on why he disappeared for seven years. Not the complete context, but it’s still a big secret he definitely wouldn’t want any other overlords to find out about.”

Valentino: “Oh? Well, now that’s interesting. Voxxy would be pleased to hear anything about the radio demon.”

Angel: “Okay, does Smiles know about THAT!?”

Husk: “Hm? Nope. I’m completely fucked if he finds out I told the Vees what I know. He’ll definitely tear my soul apart and broadcast my screams longer than anyone else’s….”

Valentino: “I take it you want protection?”

Husk: “No. Not necessary. If my soul gets handed off to you, and I give you the needed information, you’re not obliged to protect me.”

Valentino: “Now you’re talking my language, gatito~ Game on. Come Angel! Prepare to lose your little boyfriend over here.”

Angel: *ignores Val and grabs Husk by the shoulders* “Husk! We’re leaving now! I don’t want anything horrible to happen to you!”

Husk: “And nothing will happen to me. I know you can do this. Or…. Am I being too full of myself to think you’d give your all for me?”

Angel: “Wh-What…?”

Husk: “I get it. We may be getting used to each other, but I’m not all that important enough to you!”

Angel: “Bullshit!” *grabs him by the suspenders* “You go through so much for my sake! What makes you think I won’t do the same!? I’d go through this hell twice, just to repay all the times you had to deal with me!”

Husk: *smiles softly and places a hand on his cheek* “Then go win this game, Legs.”

(Basically, instead of rescuing Angel himself, Husk tricks Angel into finally getting out of his contract, by putting his own life on the line).

[chaosnojutsu]

Who *Should* Have Died From The Konoha ~12 Instead Of The One Who Did

rules:

we’re assuming they die under the same circumstances as the other guy

each one listed would have a complete storyline and their death would further the immediate plot as well as the overall narrative

i’m not “just picking characters i don’t like”

i do not condone killing characters for the sake of shock value but am considering shock as a legitimate tool in generating impact of a character’s death

miss me with “[redacted]’s death was a tragic result of the shinobi system” because no it was not. if that were true you could sub out [redacted] for any other child soldier and get the exact same impact. we know exactly why they were chosen and it’s got an (insufficient) explanation irl and in-universe.

#3. Sai

Motivation: Friendship

First of all, imagine the shock value from killing one of THE Team Kakashi members.

Cool. Now imagine Naruto’s shock at Sai sacrificing himself for him.

Sai overanalyzes normal human interaction to the point of not understanding it. He reads books about how to befriend people. He still doesn’t understand it all the time but friendship is coming more naturally to him these days. What he does understand is that Naruto is the only chance of winning this war, and he’s down, and the enemy is aiming for him, and Hinata is trying to stop them but she’s on the ground, the spears are in the air and so is Sai, and Naruto is his friend.

He doesn’t need to think about it much deeper than that.

Now imagine Sasuke “What Does ‘Friend’ Mean To You” Uchiha witnessing this, witnessing Naruto’s reaction, and the further effects this may have on his character. After all, Sai was his replacement. If Naruto feels this strongly about losing someone who was decidedly not him but his friend and teammate nevertheless then… maybe.

#2. Rock Lee

Motivation: Youth

Regardless of *how* this one plays out, no one wants to watch the determined, precious, comedic relief die; no one who’s watched this far into the show wants Rock Lee specifically to die. Huge impact already. But we can make it super duper sad because he deserves a memorable death. I see it going one of two ways.

One: Hinata doesn’t even have the time to try to shield Naruto because Rock Lee is faster. Ten-Tails barely launches the attack and Lee’s already taken/attempted to counter the hit. Perhaps this is his eight gates moment. Similar to Sai, Rock Lee would cite the power of friendship in his dramatic death speech, but he also was just… doing his duty. Truly, if you’re in the “Neji was just another tragic child soldier” camp, Rock Lee is the prime example of what I mean when I say you could sub in any child soldier, which I know sounds paradoxical but stay with me. Rock Lee’s entire personality is training harder than anyone else to benefit a system that will ultimately result in his death. If you want to make a point about child soldiers and needless lives lost, Rock Lee is the one to kill.

Two: Rock Lee doesn’t shield Hinata. He shields Neji. But not necessarily on purpose. The scene plays out exactly as written up to the moment Neji activates his byakugan, and the next frame isn’t him falling to the ground, it’s Rock Lee. The usually-somewhat-reserved Neji is devastated, probably in tears, demanding to know why he would do something like this. Rock Lee coughs up a bit of blood. “I was faster than you.” Smile. “I finally beat you…” Serene eyes fall shut. “…rival.”

And now imagine Naruto’s reaction to losing Bushy Brow. Imagine him watching Gai be brought to his knees by a blow that didn’t physically touch him. Imagine Madara incorrectly perceiving that. The implications. The foreshadowing.

#1. Shino

Motivation: Legacy

I’m gonna be real, the writers were never gonna kill off Rock Lee like that, which is the biggest reason Shino has taken the crown as Most Worthy Of A Tragic Death in my book.

This dude has a connection to both Naruto and Hinata (making him equally as good a sacrifice as Neji if that’s the canon criteria). However, unlike most other (male) characters, Shino isn’t shown to have a particularly close friendship with Naruto. The one recurring joke around Shino is that he’s so irrelevant even Naruto can’t remember his name.

But he is good friends with Hinata. And he knows she’ll spend the rest of her life miserable if Naruto dies, and that if she dies right now she will never have gotten her life’s greatest wish.

So Shino goes out in a blaze of glory, and we’ll probably insert something about how Naruto has somehow secretly inspired him all along— or maybe something cynical about how he always wanted to be included by Naruto but never was unless Kiba or Hinata were around, so he’s sacrificed himself to maintain the livelihood of everyone else while not “losing” that friendship himself— and we of course get the touching moment with Hinata (oh just imagine the drama if Shino lay dying and told Hinata “Why did I protect you? It’s simple. The reason is… for the same reason you protected him.” and we find out that the huge secret crush of the show was not Hinata toward anyone, but Shino toward Hinata, never confessing because he knew it would be futile).

Good luck forgetting his name now, Naruto. Now no one will ever forget about Shino Aburame.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Reader’s Cooking is Worse Than Lilia’s?! -Heartslabyul & Grim

Somehow, your cooking is worse than Lilia’s. Was it always like this, or did travelling to TWST change it?

Characters: Grim, Riddle Rosehearts, Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Trey Clover & Cater Diamond

Content: platonic, crack, gender neutral reader

Find the Rest of the Series: Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Author’s Note; As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

Grim

There is another reason why Grim insists on having canned tuna, he doesn’t want to meet an early death via Y/N’s cooking.

He is not above intentionally keeping you out of the kitchen.

What’s this? The stove isn’t working? All of the knives are missing? Looks like you and Grim will have to eat elsewhere! He heard Mostro Lounge had this delicious tuna dish tonight! Totally doesn’t consider making a contract in exchange for you staying out of the kitchen, nooooo

If that doesn’t work, he tries to burn the kitchen to the ground and then tries to hide hang out with Ace and Deuce for the night but he still has nightmares of your cooking. No one in Heartslabyul asks why the three of them are crying, quite frankly they don’t want to know for their own sake.

Riddle Rosehearts

He catches on pretty quickly to avoid your cooking due to Ace and Deuce’s grovelling and Grim crashing at Heartslabyul for the night. He is shocked when you show up there later that night, soot covering you, demanding to know where Grim is.

Grim… burned down your kitchen?! Instantly all three of the moronic trio had his magic-cancelling collars on and had to go back and help you clean up the mess! 

A few days later you hand him a pretty box with a note; Take these as a thank you! -Y/N. He opens the box and he now understands why they were grovelling. Perhaps he was too harsh…

He discreetly gets rid of whatever it is that you cooked for him or his fellow dorm mates, he doesn’t want anyone getting food poisoning or dying on his hands due to the Ramshackle Prefect’s treats.

Ace Trappola

He somehow disappears whenever you mention food. One minute he’s there, the next there’s a flash of red hair running as fast as possible away from Ramshackle. Yeah, he abandons Deuce without any hesitation. Blah, blah, blah, he’s a terrible friend! He values his life more.

Teams up with Grim to keep any kind of kitchen and cooking utensil out of your grasp. This is a self-preservation tactic, don’t get it twisted. He wants to live another day.

He will tell you that he would rather be squeezed by Floyd and be in a collar by Riddle than eat your cooking. He would even rather deal with an overblot! Okay, maybe not overblot level but still! It’s probably similar agony!!!!

Tries to make a deal with Azul to improve your cooking, which may or may not work.

Deuce Spade

He starts sweating bullets when he hears that you’re in the kitchen. He turns to look at Ace but that traitor is gone?! He looks for Grim, and that traitor is gone too?! He really considers what kinds of friends he keeps as company.

He now eats before going over to Ramshackle so that he can politely avoid your cooking. He doesn’t have the heart though to not bring home the leftovers.

Trey finds him starring at a wall one night in Heartslabyul and a box of something sitting on the other side of the room with a dark aura. Trey has to physically get him out of the room before Deuce comes to his senses.

Also tries making a deal with Azul, but unlike Ace, he tries to stop Grim from burning down the kitchen.

Trey Clover

He looks at the box with the dark aura that Deuce was cowering from earlier. Is this some kind of cursed object? …it’s Y/N’s cooking?! How in the Seven’s name can your cooking be worse than Lilia’s?! LILIA’S?!

Now, he would never say that out loud or to your face. His face did take on a green hue and he started sweating just by looking at it though. He thought Lilia’s cooking was horrendous, but somehow you made it look somewhat appetizing!

How are you not dead?! Have you always cooked like this? Are you okay?! 

He will offer to teach you how to cook if you mention that you want to improve, for the sake of everyone who has to eat what you make. Hopefully, no one dies in the process… Why is the kitchen on fire?! GRIM?! 

Cater Diamond

Oh, hey Prefect! What do you have there? Ooo, some treats for the unbirthday party! He wants to take some photos before they’re ruined! When you uncover them though he stops smiling and instead looks like he’s seen a ghost.

He starts rambling that he forgot to paint the roses and runs off like he was being hunted down by an angry Riddle. How did you make something like that?! He vents to Trey about it, but all Trey does is look down in shame.

Seems like he’s the last one to find out how the Prefect is a cursed cook. He does admit that it is kinda cute but terrifying at the same time, that they try so hard to make something they think their friends would like yet come out with that.

Whenever they mention their cooking, he says he’s on a diet. Sure thing, Cater.

[stilesstylelinski]

Derek  snatched  his  hand  back  abruptly  as  the  man  flinched  away  fiercely  from  his  hand  brushing  against  his  shoulder.  He  held  his  palms  out  placatingly,  trying  to  indicate  that  he  didn't  mean  any  harm,  even  as  the  man  threw  himself  against  the  pole  and  shook  his  head  furiously.  Derek  wasn't  shocked  that  the  man  didn't  want  to  be  touched,  people  who  had  been  captured  as  slaves  were  often  sensitive  to  the  touch  of  others  for  some  time,  but  he  just  wanted  to  try  and  help.

Derek  watched  as  the  young  man  lifted  long  fingers  to  his  neck,  feeling  for  something  that  was  no  longer  there.  He  took  a  second  to  take  in  the  man's  features;  an  upturned  nose,  a  sprinkling  of  moles  along  his  left  cheek  amongst  the  mudstains,  and  wide  honey  brown  eyes.  He  blinked  back  to  the  present  moment  as  the  figure  staggered  to  his  feet  and  towards  a  tent  to  the  side  and  went  to  follow,  trailing  a  couple  of  paces  behind  to  not  upset  him  further  but  wanting  to  ensure  he  was  alright.

"I'm  sorry  about  your...person.  I  will  find  you  a  place  to  stay  until  you  are  able  to  establish  yourself  once  more."  

Of  course  some  would  not  have  homes  to  return  to,  their  villages  desecrated  by  the  slavers,  but  many  had  family  elsewhere  they  could  turn  to.  Not  this  man  it  would  seem.  But  Derek  was  determined  to  take  care  of  these  people.  His  people.  It  wasn't  their  fault  that  they  had  been  snatched  from  their  homes  and  loved  ones  at  the  whim  of  people  wanting  to  sell  them  for  money.

Derek  glanced  around  the  tent,  looking  for  anything  of  obvious  value.  The  slavers  always  took  any  personal  possessions  their  captives  had  on  their  person  for  keep  as  trophies  or  to  sell,  that  was  no  surprise,  but  he  wasn't  sure  what  this  man  was  looking  for  in  particular.  He  saw  a  small  heap  of  necklaces,  bracelets,  and  earrings  on  the  corner  of  a  desk  and  scooped  them  up  in  his  palm  to  see  if  they  belonged  to  any  of  the  other  captives.

"I'm  Derek,  by  the  way.  And  you  are...?"

Stiles entered the tattered remains of the tent, not doubt the material having seen some of the action of the battle he'd more heard than seen.

He crouched with achy muscles and sifted through all the abandoned belongings, searching desperately for the tattered leather strap he'd fastened his one remaining feather to--but the lantern wasn't bright enough to make it an easy task, and try as he might--he just couldn't find it. Was it even in there?

"Why the charity? You released these people--isn't that all you owe them?" Stiles asked seriously, as he sifted through the pile for a second time, long fingers raking through the items but to no avail. "People aren't kind for the sake of being kind." He'd learned that the hard way, and he suffered for it day after day of this new and abysmal existence.

When he stood, he was more tense--distress clear in his honey coloured eyes, as he finally turned to the person who had freed him. Reluctantly, he offered the name Claudia had given him "Stiles. She called me Stiles."

@boundforhale