#kinda proud of this idea

[kennahjune]

ALRIGHT BUT

I’ve been having flustered Steve thoughts.

The Party has NEVER seen Steve flustered. Steve’s always the one flirting and no one ever flirts back anymore so Steve’s never actually flustered.

But then Eddie Munson comes slithering along and he flirts with everyone just cause he can but nobody’s flustered by his attempts because he’s not trying to actually fluster them.

But for some reason he really flusters Steve.

Eddie uses this to his advantage and actually puts forth effort when he flirts with Steve.

Steve is flustered, bashful, embarrassed. He’s twirling his hair and giggling and he does this thing where he taps his fingernails on his front teeth when he gets distracted.

The Party was NEVER seen Steve like this.

Not even Nancy when they were dating.

Steve has described what he was like when he was flustered to them, calling himself stupid and saying he acted like an idiot to try and get them to just lay off.

All anyone sees is an absolute sweetheart.

Steve blushes really bright, starting with his ears and it just travels down from there. And also he’s really bad at hiding his smiles and he smiles so BIG when Eddie flirts with him. Like you can see every tooth and his eyes crinkle so much they basically close and his nose scrunches up.

And Eddie fucking THRIVES in it.

Because NO ONE else gets Steve like that.

Eddie’s witnessed Steve flirting with the girls of Hawkins. Has seen them all flirt back with varying degrees of bluntness.

None of them have gotten Steve nearly half as flustered as Eddie has.

UNTIL.

Eddie has Steve come over to the trailer to hang out. Steve by some turn of events ends up cooking and making grilled cheese and tomato soup.

Wayne comes home right as Steve is playing everything and Steve is DISTRAUGHT. Like “no Wayne it’s alright, really. I can make you some to it’s ok I like cooking you’re really doing me a favor.”

So Steve makes Wayne a grilled cheese to and refuses to let Eddie eat until they can eat together.

So they’re all sitting and then they start eating. And obviously it was a damn good grilled cheese— Eddie knew Steve could cook but good GOD.

And then Wayne puts his grilled cheese down, looks between Steve and Eddie, and tells Eddie “If you don’t marry ‘im I’m adoptin ‘im.”

And Steve BEAMS.

It’s that same smile he gets when Eddie flirts with him and Eddie is only somewhat livid.

Cause he totally gets the rush of having Wayne compliment you for the first time. He’s just such an honest man.

And it goes from there that the only people who can fluster Steve are Eddie and Wayne (Eddie romantically and Wayne platonic-fatherly).

They both go out of their way to compliment him constantly just to see him smile like that :)))

Aaahhhhh this makes me so happy!!!!

[side-of-honey]

LEGEND tells of a LEGENDARY COWPOKE… whose sharpshootin’ skills were the stuff of LEGEND

Sorry for this one. I really am. I kept mixing up the furious five and the feisty five and then I thought about it for a little too long

(Please DO NOT repost my art to other sites :) )

[gophergal]

Another dumb comic, this time in color!

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #151

There is a LOT of Iron Man merch out there. One day, Stark Industries comes out with a line of Iron Man themed night lights that look like arc reactors. The marketing? "For kids who are scared of the dark: Iron Man will protect you."

In completely unrelated news, a whole bunch of child abusers across the country have recently been arrested as a result of  anonymous tips to local authorities.

Bonus:

It's an open secret at some point. Teens who are being abused start buying the night lights. Hell, adults start buying them. Charities pop up to cover the cost for anyone who needs it. Kids who are newly safe often send their night lights on to others ("I'm not scared of the dark anymore," they say).

Even with all of this, nobody snitches to the media or government. They all know grown-ups tend to complicate and ruin precious things.

It helps that the night lights clearly can distinguish between different types of situations. Kids whose parents need mental health or addiction support suddenly find they're being contacted by free services that actually help. If ICE is a concern, the people knocking on the door are not cops but immigrant rights activists. Kids who are hungry get food. Families who need housing support coincidentally find it.

"Iron Man will protect you," indeed.

This fic idea was inspired by this post from @fotibrit!!

[ultipoter]

Pokemon Legends Arceus fan comic, where Jirou has disappeared and Volo has complicated feelings about it. (And maybe figures out that there's a bit of a God in that little phone of Jirou's)

[same-name-supremacy]

Redesigned my Dramarama designs! I got the sizing off, oops

Man whoever here remembers my Total Drama phase of my art, thanks for sticking around and sorry about my saw obsession

ANYWAY! I’m super proud of these updated designs and I might redesign the other ones I did. They deserve a glow up too

[starry-bi-sky]

my body's aching like a knock-down drag-out

and my poor heart is an open wound A Childhood Friends Au snippet that very briefly delves into Danny's life post-accident. CW: Mild Mentions of Blood, Violence, VERY mild gore ig. Danny briefly recalls getting impaled during a fight.

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

What they don't tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it can hurt. That it can hurt more than when you were alive. That when you die, the emotions you die with stick with you like a leech that just won't let go. That emotions are ugly little thorns that stick their barbs into you and grow beneath your skin; or, at least, whatever’s left of it. 

Danny is familiar with anger. It kept him warm in Gotham, when his parents weren't home from work and he and Jason were crowding Crime Alley with their presence. It kept him warm in Amity, when the fresh sting of moving was still needling into his heart and he wanted nothing more than to rip and tear into the closest person next to him.

He's familiar with violence. With fights. With death. He's seen people die in Crime Alley probably every day. From overdose, from gunshots, from stab wounds; anything that can kill, rest assured he's seen it. He's familiar with getting his own knuckles rough and bloody when other kids turn and bare their teeth at him and Jason; they're all just starving dogs stuck in a fighting pit, primed and ready to rip out each other's throats. 

Black eyes, stomped hands, bloody noses. You name it; he’s had it. Gotham is paved with the blood of her children, and Danny likes to imagine that when he was born, the doctors handed his mother a file and told her; “Take it. He’s going to need it for his teeth.” 

Danny’s mom (and dad, for that matter) was too busy trying to keep him and Jazz fed, so Danny stole the file from her drawer with Jazz’s help, and did it himself.  

He’s familiar with anger, he thought he was getting better at it these days. It doesn’t come to him as easily as it did before. Of course, that was before Jason died. 

Danny is less familiar with grief. Caring kills and Gotham kills the caring, so Danny cares very little about other people. Or he tries to. But grief hurts. His grief hurts. It hurts too much. It hurts like a bug trying to crawl out of his chest; like a rat chewing a hole through his heart. Some days he wants to dig his hands into his hair and split himself down the middle. Some days he just wants to scream. 

He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. 

He wants the whole city to hear him wailing, some days. It sticks itself in the back of his throat like bile, and Danny is one wrong retch away from letting it loose. It sticks in his lungs like all the tar he’s smoked in since he was nine. It pushes and aches at his temples, in his head, like his brain is trying to swell out of his skull. His thoughts becoming so loud they threaten to commandeer his tongue.  

He has no mouth, but he must scream. 

Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it hurts more than when you were alive. Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it’s violent. That it’s bloody. Or as bloody as it can be when everyone has no blood. 

Another thing they don’t tell you about being dead, is that it’s a lot like Gotham that way.

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies forget death itself. Blood comes easy, like water, and teeth are encouraged. Bring your own fangs to the fight. Dying is something you can just walk off. 

Danny’s been dead for three months. He can’t say he’s been walking it off easy. He’s perfected the art of turning his nails into claws since his heart was still beating, but he can’t say he’s perfected fighting other ghosts. 

Scrappy is just not enough. 

He feels like he’s back in Gotham again. Back in her death-shroud alleyways, fighting someone bigger than him. But there’s no Jason to watch his back, and Danny has to get himself out of there alone. Or he might just not get up at all. 

Black eyes, busted lips. It’s familiar to him like an old scent, Danny isn’t quite sure that he’s missed it. It’s more familiar than his fights with Dash. 

But there’s no one else who can do it but him. Not Sam, not Tucker. He can’t lose them too. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. His heart can’t take another break, he already feels like he’s going insane. 

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies fight like death themself. He learns why when Technus puts a street sign through his stomach one day. It pins him to the asphalt like a moth pinned by its wings. 

Danny claws at the metal like how an animal caught in a trap chews off its leg, and every move is blinding pain. He thinks he was howling, but it’s hard to tell. He couldn’t recognize the sound of his voice. 

He bleeds green. It mixes in black with the pitch blackhole in his heart, which throbs and twists and cries in time with his reckless panic. The finger-choking terror of dying again strangles out the air he doesn’t need. His blood evaporates, only to reabsorb into him. It just bleeds out again, cycling like a snake eating its own tail. 

Danny breaks his nails clawing at the metal, and eventually gets it in his mind to pull it out. So he does, and the end drips ectoplasm green as he gets to his feet. In red-vision, Danny sends the sign back with snarling, vicious fervor. The pain is irrelevant in his rage.

Only after the fight does the hole the pole left start to close. Danny doesn’t shift human until it’s gone. Unlike other injuries, a scar stays behind. Ugly; mottled, it aches for a week with every twist and stretch his body makes. He hates it. 

Being dead is agony. 

Every part of him is in pain. Every step, every word he speaks, everything he does, it is prerequisite with pain. The body is temporary, but the soul is forever, and death has carved into it with its freezing green hands and left him with never-ending heartache. It has torn from him and stolen what of him it could, and in return it’s left him with sorrow. 

His pain is his grief, and he’s sobbed in the safety of his room more times than he can count. It’s still as fresh as the day he heard the news of Jason’s death. He knows, instinctively, that it will stay fresh forever. 

In his room, Danny shoves his hands over his mouth and shrieks in whatever, muffled way he can into his pillow. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. He needs to be louder. He needs to be heard. He refuses to be. 

Being dead hurts. 

[fatuismooches]

Self-indulgent Omega fic to help turn my writing brain back on, inspired by this brainrot. He is referred to as 24 in here as fragile reader hasn't named the segments yet. You two aren't the closest yet, but a chance encounter with the segment begins to change that. (I will respond to asks... eventually).

After a few centuries-long coma, when you woke up, the hardest thing to process wasn't that fact. It wasn't the fact your lover, who now went by "Dottore" instead of "Zandik" was now a powerful Harbinger. It wasn't the fact you had to deal with this illness for who knows how long (actually, this was quite hard to process, but you tried your best not to dwell on it.) Rather, it was the fact that Dottore now had copies of himself running around. And if you were to properly adjust to your new life, you absolutely had to make room for them. But that was easier said than done.

They were all Zandik, but at the same time, they felt like strangers to you. They were familiarly enigmatic as you had remembered the original one, but you weren't sure if you were good enough to puzzle each of them out all over again... However, pursuing Zandik as a student meant that you certainly were a persistent soul, so you would try!

One of Dottore's segments that you were trying to crack was named 24 (he hadn't bothered to give them names for some reason). 24 was tall and imposing, authoritative even among the segments, despite their tendency to bicker with one another. He was also different from the other segments in a way, but you couldn't put your finger on what exactly it was, for some reason. Needless to say, intriguing (just like all the others). Unfortunately, your attempts to move this relationship forward weren't going the smoothest. You found that even building up your courage for numerous minutes still resulted in a dry throat and awkward moments of the segment looking at you expectantly.

However, that would change one night.

Sleepless nights were frequent when you were a student, but they seemed to have followed you even all this time later. At least, instead of studying and dealing with assignments, you were left to stare at the ceiling in peace or pull out a nice book to read until you became sleepy again. But this time, no option satisfied you. You wanted company. And so you set off to find Dottore. The walk was always nice, but it seemed like you were more tired than you thought, as you eventually realized you were definitely not going the right way in the maze of a building, evident from the recognizable doors of one of the main labs.

Well, you were already here, and you didn't want to walk all the way back. You should just enter and loop your way back around somehow. Judging from the silence on the other side, there was most likely no one else there either, which was good for you! And so you pushed the doors open, intent on entering until you saw him.

24.

He sat there unmasked, screwdriver in hand, carefully tweaking himself, a few other tools to the side as well. Wait, a screwdriver to his face? You squinted a bit more and that's when you realized he... had no face? Well, kind of, he had a mouth and squishy cheeks, but the upper half was replaced by mechanics instead. A gleaming red gem in the middle along with blue wires made up 24's face in replacement for actual eyes, You had no clue that this was what he really looked like.

You were a mix of shock and awe. It was surprising but you supposed you should have expected the segments, who weren't human, to have some features like this. And didn't Prime say 24 was the most recently made segment? More recent, more advanced, you guessed. But you also had a feeling you really shouldn't have walked in on this, so you should leave while you still could. Maybe 24 didn't notice you yet-

"It's awfully past your bedtime, isn't it, [Name]?" 24 hummed, continuing whatever modification he was doing calmly, not the slightest bothered by your intrusion, or by the fact you saw his face. You wanted to retort with something, but your usual attitude with Zandik seemed to die down around this individual that you had yet to become fully comfortable with.

"I could not sleep. So I took a walk." You glanced away from 24, then back at him. "What... what are you doing?" You asked, curiosity overtaking your nervousness.

"Simply performing some routine maintenance. I will be finished soon, and then-"

"Can I see?" The sudden, rather eager question from you, made 24 pause. You had always been quiet and a bit jumpy around him, so this sudden change in attitude had him interested. On the contrary, he thought that seeing this inhuman face of his would make you keep your distance more, but it attracted you? Not what the segment predicted, but he found himself enjoying the surprises you brought with you.

You, on the other hand, were reminded of the old days of helping Zandik put together and apart various contraptions. It was a mixture of 24's display and also the star in the middle, which reminded you of all the Ruin Guards you'd dissected in the Akademiya. It was quite fun. You wanted to see more. Hopefully, this could be a splendid opportunity to satiate your inner researcher and also get closer to the segment.

"Of course, if that is what you'd like." You walked up to him, steps full of caution yet fascination. The way his fingers maneuvered effortlessly with precision at something that appeared delicate - it was very cool, to you at least.

"You don't need a mirror or anything?"

"No, I know my body more than well enough."

"Do you have any sensation up there?"

"Yes, I can feel my own fingers when they brush against it."

"Can I touch you?" Though 24 had entertained your barrage of questions, it was this request that made him pause his work and stare at you. The red star that glimmered intensely at you suddenly made your nervousness go all the way up again.

"I'm sor-"

"Very well," 24 interrupted you, placing his hands on his lap, now looking at you expectantly. You held back a sigh of relief as you stepped even closer to him, giving his upper mechanical face an experimental tap. He didn't react outwardly, but you could tell he felt that. Gulping, you tried again, this time gliding your finger over the blue lines imprinted on the black background. And then the red star in the middle, you gave into the urge to press down on it like a button. Still, 24 seemed to be unbothered. Darn, you had hoped he was ticklish there or something.

Regardless, the area was pretty hard, compared to the softness of his cheeks, which you unconsciously slid another finger down to calculate the exact difference. Until a hand grasped your own, not too tight or too light, firm enough to make you jump.

"[Name], would you care to explain your reasons for such prodding?" Oops. 24 didn't seem very amused.

"I have no intentions, I am just interested in feeling you." As soon as the words came out, you realized how they sounded and rushed to clarify yourself. "Because I've never seen anything like this before! The technology is just interesting to me! As a scholar and all! You understand, right?" But alas, from the now growing smirk on his face, you had already lost.

"Is that so? I shall allow you to continue then, if that is what you wish. I would never block a fellow scholar's pursuit of knowledge," he grinned, pointy teeth grazing his lip as he let go of your hand. Ugh, he was definitely making fun of you.

"And, if you truly desire to obtain satisfactory results, you should come closer, no?" At that moment, the segment suddenly pulled you toward him so that you fell into his lap, legs draped over him and chests nearly pressed against each other. It was rather intimate - the only other lap you've been on was Prime Dottore's. But although your heart was beating quicker than normal, you liked how it felt...

"Better?"

"Yes," your lone word came out quiet, an attempt to hide your flustered state. But you quickly moved on, not wanting to endure further teasing. "S-So, how do you see? Since you have no... you know." 24 chuckled, relishing in the state he and he only reduced you to. But he decided to spare you this one time. He didn't want to drive you too far away now, did he, now that he finally had the chance to be alone with you.

"I have a Kamera installed inside."

"A... Kamera?" The unfamiliar word felt strange on your tongue. You never heard of such a thing.

"It is a device that takes photographs. A photograph is..." 24 pondered, trying to come up with the simplest definition for someone who hadn't had knowledge of the developments of the past four hundred years yet. "It is something that captures a moment of time in physical form." You furrowed your eyebrows at that. It sort of made sense, but it also didn't. How could time be permanent? From the expression on your face, 24 could tell you most definitely wanted to see a Kamera.

"I shall show you it-" you brightened up, "in the morning," and then deflated. "You have delayed far too long, and no one will let you sleep in." You pouted at this finality.

"But what if I want to stay with you?"

"I will accompany you back to your room, and wait until you fall asleep. Is that satisfactory?" You nodded, and then you were lifted into the air as 24 began to carry you effortlessly, making his way to dreary corridors.

And so you began to reflect in the segment's arms, which had gone from never touching you to holding you so intimately. You were surprised to see this side of the segment - you never thought he could act this way. But you suppose, if Dottore cares for you, then the rest of them really do as well.

"We should talk more," you said, just as he slipped you right back into bed. "It would be fun, I think." You don't know why you felt the need to provide a reason, perhaps because he was undoubtedly extremely busy and had better things to do than chat with you all day. And ugh - "fun"? That was such a stupid reason. Why would 24 care about fun? But he seemed to find your request attractive anyway.

"I have harbored the same sentiment for a while. I await our future conversations with great anticipation, [Name]." With a light feeling in your heart, greatly proud of yourself for your progress with the segment, the sleepiness began to settle in once more. The last thing you saw before you fell asleep was the red glow emitting from 24.

From the day he came into this world as 24, to the day you named him to live and die as Omega, he will love you.

[hazethestrange]

Days getting shorter, nights are longer and Sky is grouchy due to having to wake up and it's still dark, leaving his sleep schedule a mess. Lots of people portray Sky as this ray of sunshine, but the idea of him being mean when just being woken from a nap is funny to me. He is also kinda terrifying.

[2-eeillustration]

Doodled out how Megs' chain flail works + concept art cyberpunk claymore I'm giving him his #Return_0 OC crossover ( I will take any and all excuse to put him in formal clothes ok)

[tenjikyu]

imagine a child male reader whos siblings w scaramouche and was also abandoned so they only had eachother and encountered many people throughout their lives (fatui, traveler, that little kid who passed away, etc..). i can only imagine the heartbreak everytime scara gets hurt bc of the betrayals throughout ur travels and how the reader is tryibg his best to comfort him since hes still young and doesnt fully grasp the situation theyre both in idkk

srry for being specific i just rlly like sibling stuff 😭😭

𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 - 𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘪

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ scaramouche x m!brother!reader , angst and fluff , comfort and reverse comfort .

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ reader and scaramouche slowly age throughout the book, so keep that in mind.

the wanderer and his little brother apart is a sight nome of the seven nations have ever witnessed. wherever one is, the other is trailing behind either with excitement, worry, concern or grumpiness trailing their figures. the wanderer loves his little brother more then anything and everything in this shithole and that has never changed, nor will it ever change.

upon the creation of kunikuzishi, raiden ei (or ‘mother’) had encountered an ‘issue’ that might be solved if he had something instinctual to protect. kunikuzushi was a gentle soul, and while he loved his mother more then life as he knew it, if he was so weak that he could not hold the gnosis then what was all this for?

and so, the creation of the second kunikuzushi was in production.

“(y/n)” she had named you. you loved your name, you loved your mother who gave you your name and most of all, you loved your big brother kunikuzushi. he was your everything, and for awhile raiden ei’s plan had seemed to have succeeded.

kunikuzushi was getting stronger, he was overcoming his sensitivity and his ability to cry at every given scenario. she thought she had finally done it.

until she realised, it was all a massive lie.

she had caught you coddling your teary eyes big brother near the shine, cradling his head against your little chest and combing his hair in hopes his tears would cease. you could sense your mothers presence and you knew if she found out that he was still as vulnerable as the day of your creation, it would have major concequences.

the gods weren’t in your favour, to put it lightly.

wandering the ever so lonely woods of inazuma, you and your brother faced two more instances in which would eventually trigger his switch.

the first? a simple blacksmith that had taken you both in. he was another good soul, cheerful beyond belief and a truly comforting person to be around.

he taught your brother the craft of weaponry. he taught your brother it is okay to be vulnerable at times and for awhile, you truly believed that you had found someone who cared about you enough to love you and your brother for who you truly were.

that dream died alongside his once genuine love for you both, riddled with fear of the both of you.

kunikuzushi’s tears echoed through your ears that night, it was so loud you couldn’t even hear the rain that was ever so loudly crashing against the two of you. his body was small and shrunken, and you didn’t know how you could help. your little mind may be synthetic, but it does not mean that you comprehend things as an adult would.

you only hoped holding your big brother against you and hiding your own tears would comfort him enough to stop crying.

you couldn’t stand his tears, they broke your little heart.

the last was a young boy, only a few years younger then your current mortal state.

raiden ei claimed that to keep kunikuzushi’s guard, she would have your body ever so slightly age, until you would stop abruptly by the time your form would hit 14. this would match up with kunikuzushi as his body would go from the form of an 18-22 year old physique.

this boy was once more, a very loving being. he was full of love and wonder about the world, seeing everything as an opportunity and a blessing.

your little head couldn’t comprehend his views until it was far too late for blessings or miracles.

there, lying lifeless and devoid of emotion, going everything against you knew of the boy he lay.

CLICK

you attempted to grasp your big brothers hand, but you did not see a boy who once more needed comfort, all you could see was pure loathing.

you didn’t see your big brother in that moment. you saw a stranger in the skin of kunikuzushi. his tears were not in need of wiping, in fact no tears were to be wiped at all.

you lost your brother that day, and it would be a long while before you would see him once more.

in a sense, you lost yourself that day as well, you no longer felt that out in your stomach that lingered endlessly. only a cold numbness filled the gaping hole in which a heart should lay wishing your chest.

by the time you had reached the fatui, the both of you were completely different people.

scaramouche was cold and sharped tongued, and as for yourself? you were reserved and shrunken. you had both completed the aging process that ei had implemented for the two of you, and it was as clear as day.

you had gotten ever so slightly taller, your hair a little longer and your frown weighed heavy on your lips.

your big brother was still as short as ever, but his face was no longer chubby and round. he was sharp and cold, a glare that never disappeared unless i’m the presence of one person.

you.

you hated the fatui. you hated how they treated you and your brother. unlike the humans, they didn’t even bother to pretend to care for either of your well-being’s. you were scared of most, not daring to make any form of contact with any of them. there was only one harbinger that ever spoke to you of his own volition.

tartaglia.

an annoying redhead who treated you as if you were his own kin. that alone had scaramouche seething in his seat. who was this filthy mortal and how DARE he treat HIS little brother as his own? this had the balladeer absolutely livid and so for the sake of your dear brother, you did your very best to escape the mortals clutches.

as his time in the fatui progressed, you soon found yourself truly taking on the roll as his little brother. you seemed to be the one who was there for him, never much the other way around.

of course that’s not to say he wasn’t there, it was just normally him who needed you more then you needing him. you were the one with him against your chest, not the other way around, and honestly you never cared too much. he’s you brother, why shouldn’t you be there for him?

you didn’t realise just how sad that fact had made your big brother until it had genuinely switched.

scaramouche, as you now seemed to have to adresse him as, not once even entertained the idea of you becoming a full blown fatui member. you simply sat in his office and kept him company throughout his everyday chores and when he went in missions? you rested in his quarters until he came back.

the fatui knew of your immortality and the fact you were not human, and henceforth never bothered to check in on you, not that you cared much.

the doctor struck fear in you that you couldn’t quite comprehend and columbina was almost too cheery to be trusted. the knave seemed interested in you, however you soon came to understand she ran an orphanage and decided she was only looking for a potential member of the hearth. the rest of them never much interacted with you and you therefore have no good or bad opinion on them, all you knew is that you could only trust yourself and your big brother in this hellhole.

you had lost count on how many days it had been since you escaped the clutches of the fatui, but you couldn’t care less. you were with your big brother and he had you, and that’s all you needed in life.

scaramouche thought different.

he wanted to laugh in the faces of the mortals and god who wronged his brother and himself, to mortify the deities and to have the humans begging at his feet. he wanted absolute power, and he had finally obtained the key item to acquire this dream of his.

had anyone asked you if you feared your brother kunikuzushi, you would have laughed in their face. if someone asked you if you feared your brother scaramouche, even just slightly, you could not give an answer.

you were yet to meet this ‘damned blonde runt’ that your brother so very much despised, however you could only hope in a time like this, she might just be able to save your big brother. he claims she is nothing but a pathetic little worm that he could easily discard by the time he reaches divinity, however you had heard of the deeds she had performed for the other nations of teyvat, and you had a feeling she was going to do the same thing for sumeru.

your feelings were correct.

your big brother was falling, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it. he told you to not interfere by the time lumine came, to stay hidden in order to protect you from exposure. to protect himself from people who would use his little brother to exploit him.

too bad you love him a bit too much to allow him to fall like this. he had just quite literally lost his heart right after gaining it, and the pure horror within his vocal cords as he begged the archon of dendro to spare his heart was heavy on your little ears. you couldn’t take it any longer.

“KUNIKUZUSHI NO” you pleaded, you begged the girls to help your brother, however they just watched as he fell lifelessly. so, as you’ve always done and will continue to do, you ran to him.

he only mumbled a ‘get away from me’ and a ‘what if they see you?’ before he finally fell into unconsciousness, and that was the last straw.

all you felt in your body was a frozen and bitter hatred. you felt disappointed. wasn’t this supposed to be the ever caring saviour of teyvat? the girl who makes friends with the snap of her fingers and fights to protect ALL??

all you saw was a fake, a fraud.

ice shot out from the bottom of your heels, icing the entirety of the floors around the workshop. you were screaming.

the room was slowly icing itself around you as you held your unconscious brother in your arms. the panic was visible in the travellers companions voice, freaking out that they’re trapped in the room and that the ice is closing in, however you could only feel your imaginary heart beating harshly within your chest, pounding on your synthetic rib cage and begging to be released from the clutches of ice growing within it.

the only thing you heard before your body collapsed was a gentle tune, a tune of true harmony.

you awoke to the soft breathing of your brother next to you, seemingly in a blissful rest. instinctively, you raised your body and clutched him tightly, startling him awake. you took in your surroundings before letting him go, him reluctantly sitting up and grasping your shoulder, slouching on you.

in came the little nahida, with a tray of tea and some traditional sumerian snacks on the side.

“you’re finally awake you two! i’ve been waiting for the both of you for ages!” her little singalong voice chimed, puffy cheeks graced with a warm smile. you and kunikuzushi share a glace at eachother, almost in a “what the fuck are we doing here?” kinda look. the young archon took note of your confusion and decided to explain.

“we rescued the both of you from the doctors clutches and have been nursing you back to health! after (y/n) had gained his cryo vision, another vision slowly descended and rested on the chest of the balladeer. the anemo vision seemed to swirl a warm breeze around the both of you as the ice spread as the room started to freeze in on itself. thankfully, i was able to get everyone out uninjured, however we had unfortunately encountered the 2nd fatui harbinger, also known as the doctor. he claimed the fatui had ownership over the both of you and wanted both you and the gnosis, however i bargained that as long as he shut down all his twins, as well as giving us the both of you, he could have both of the gnosis’ i possessed!”

nahida seemed almost too cheery, however you refused to comment on it. all you did was squeeze your bothers free hand as he held you protectively, his guard instinctively high in the presence of a god. smiling softly to yourself for the first time in forever, you rested on the shoulder of your big brother.

you were finally in safe hands.

sumeru’s most notable duo, the young wanderer and (y/n) explore around the lands together, hand in hand. one in his early 20s and the other in his teenage years. though they never seem to age, sumeru does not question it. the elder with a sharp tongue and the younger apologising profusely for his big brothers harsh words. the elder studying in the akedemiya under the request of the lesser lord, and the younger encouraging him to do his best.

the elder keeping his guard up so the younger can finally enjoy his everlasting youth, after giving it up for so many years for the sake of himself. hand in hand, kunikuzushi knew you two would finally be able to rest.

just the two of you, until the end of time. <3

[a-very-tired-raven]

sometimes i like to imagine how he'd react to other bug 'mons..🐛🔥

[asthronauta]

WOUNDS THAT NEVER HEAL | Remus Lupin – Son! Male Reader.

Summary: Remus had within him a destructive beast that destroyed and destroyed itself. And on one of those nights he gives himself a wound that cannot be healed.

Warnings: Angst, the kind of Angst that will destroy you. Happy ending tho? There is some Fluff (father-son bond) but mostly Angst. Description of wounds (the wolf attacking itself). Sensitive topics (I don't want to say it because I don't want to give spoilers but it is a pretty painful topic). Remus is a great dad :( Enjoy?

Btw, english is not my first language so there may be some errors in my writing. I'm still learning!

Remus' body was covered in scars of all sizes. Some longer, some shorter. Some more painful, some less painful. But they were all there. Written on his skin, telling his story. Like a brand that would stay with him forever. The evidence of his pain, his past, his present and his future. The wounds he had inflicted on himself as a result of his own desperation, of his own pain, of that beast that lived inside him and escaped from his interior every full moon. Remus hated himself, he always had. And he didn't believe he ever stopped doing it. It was something he couldn't help. His condition, his curse, that burden that he carried with him everywhere. The burden that he forced everyone around him to carry. His family, his friends... His son. Remus felt like that, a burden. A nuisance.

That's how it was for many years. Eventually, he learned to live with it. Maybe it was all the nights that Sirius had comforted him or the responsibility of being a father that had made him put his own pain aside, but Remus felt happy. Happy because, despite his lycanthropy, he had a wonderful life. He had people who loved him. He had friends, he had family. He had lost many loved ones, yes, but he still had many more to carry on for. The most important person in his life; his son, would soon be graduating, and Remus' only wish was to see him grow up. That was the only thing he wanted. Remus was happy because for the first time in his life he looked around and didn't see pain, he saw love. He saw a future that he was eager for. Seeing his son grow up, graduate, fulfill his dreams, was enough for him to forget everything that had been tormenting him for so many years.

But life is cruel, isn't it?

Just a few days after his son turned seventeen, Remus had a particularly rough night. He didn't have Wolfsbane, he had spent that month's money buying his son a gift. It was a sacrifice he was willing to do for him, so he simply decided to find a place where he can spend the full moon. Just like old times. He had already been through that many times so he didn't thought this time would be different. What a mistake. Remus would never be able to get that night out of his head. It would repeat itself in his consciousness over and over again like a broken record because that day his life changed completely.

His wolf was enraged. Out of control like it hadn't been in many years. He dug his long nails deep into his own skin, Remus could feel the burning pain course through his body as his wounds spurted blood. It was horrible. Maddening. A pain that Remus had forgotten and didn't want to remember. But there it was, reminding him once again like a macabre joke. His wolf bit and tore his own skin, almost skinning himself. It seemed like the animal wanted to kill itself. Hitting against things, banging his own head against the wall until he almost lost consciousness, biting and scratching his own skin until the floor was painted with his own blood.

It was a blurry night. The only thing Remus remembered from that night was all the pain he had felt and waking up in the hospital the next day. Bedridden. Not being able to move, not being able to speak. Completely paralyzed.

•

•

•

•

Time had passed since that night.

It was a cold morning. Christmas was near, the year was ending. Many people were celebrating with their families and friends, but Remus couldn't. Not in the condition he was in. His son dragged the wheelchair to the kitchen, settling it in front of the table where [Y/N] hurried to put the dishes. “Today I cooked your favorite, dad” the teenager said, speaking with a naturalness unbecoming of the situation. Remus watched him carefully, the boy was serving breakfast with a smile that Remus knew he was forcing onto his face. “I tried to do it like you used to. It was a little difficult because I had to do it from memory but hey, I don't think it's that bad” [Y/N] said, showing him a weak, gentle smile, sitting next to him.

[Y/N] still spoke to him, and Remus was deeply grateful for that. He understood that it wasn't easy to talk to a person when you know you won't receive an answer. [Y/N] was strong enough, thoughtful enough to still talk to his father. And Remus was grateful. He never in his life wanted to say ‘thank you’ as much as in that moment, but he couldn't. Even if he tried, only a few sounds would come out of his mouth. Nothing more. [Y/N] looked at his father, motionless in that wheelchair. He felt a horrible lump in his throat, and the deep need to cry. But he held back. He couldn't. Not there, not in front of his father. “...Here, let me help you,” he said, bringing the plate to him.

Helping him, that was what [Y/N] had been doing for him since the accident. That and so much more. Since that night, since that full moon, Remus had been confined to a wheelchair. His body was completely paralyzed. Weak movements with his face and hands were all he could do. He couldn't speak either, a few moans were the only thing he could let out with effort. Remus was imprisoned in his own body, a body that had become useless. [Y/N] had practically become the man of the house, Remus couldn't work anymore, he couldn't do anything for himself. And the responsibility had fallen on his son, who wasn't even an adult yet. “Wanna try?” [Y/N] said, holding the fork to Remus' mouth as if he were a baby. Remus swallowed, one of the few things he could do on his own. He felt useless. “It tastes good, doesn't it?” [Y/N] couldn't help but let a small proud smile leave his lips. He didn't usually cook, he had been forced to learn to do so after the accident, and every small achievement was a source of pride for him, and for Remus too. Remus was happy for him and at the same time he was so sorry. “I'm not that bad of a cook after all, huh?” he said with a boyish smile. He felt so proud of himself, Remus wanted to smile at him so badly. Tell him that of course he was a good cook, that he could be the best if he wanted to. But he couldn't. He was trapped behind his motionless body.

Remus never felt so miserable in his life. He felt so useless, so desolate. He was screaming in pain inside but he was silent outside. A silence that drove him crazy. It was a pain and desperation that he couldn't show and Remus had never in his life appreciated being able to speak as much as he did now. He couldn't stop thinking about all those times he didn't speak, all those times he kept things to himself. All those times he had something to say and didn't say it. All the things he had to say and couldn't. It was an overwhelming anxiety, wanting to scream and not having a voice.

But you don't appreciate what you have until you lose it, right?

“I've talked to mom.” [Y/N] continued talking while feeding his father. “She said she will send us money this month too. Luckily she's been.. ehm, nice.” Remus didn't get along with [Y/N]'s mother. It was a strained and uncomfortable relationship. The woman seemed to hate Remus and has stayed away from him since [Y/N] was born. She only spoke to her son's father because she had no other option, and Remus was sure that if she could make him disappear she would. But her heart seemed to have softened when she learned of Remus' new condition -which only made Remus more miserable-. She had been the one who had been helping them financially since the accident, because Remus could no longer provide for himself or his son. “Still, I've got a job for this vacation,” he smiled at him, “I want to help, you know? Even if it's just a little.” The teen said, giving Remus a small smile that reminded him of his own. Remus felt so guilty. His son was still a child, Remus still saw him as a child. A teenager who didn't know anything about the world yet. A boy Remus had yet to finish raising, whom he still had so many things to teach. He was just a boy. His boy. His son, who had been robbed of his teenage years. He, with his limitations, had taken away his teenage years. Even so, [Y/N] continued to help him in every way possible. Cooking for him, helping him bathe, change clothes, even getting a job to help financially. Remus was so proud of him and at the same time he felt like he owed him so, so much.

“It's in a bookstore, that bookstore where the old lady who always wears flowers on her head works, remember?” [Y/N] spoke normally, as if it were just another day in his life. One more of those days before everything happened. Remus remembered that lady. She was a kind, chubby lady, a lady who had practically seen [Y/N] and even Remus grow up. In Remus' first memories of that woman she was already old. And she already worked in that old, small bookstore. Remus remembered a little [Y/N] standing on his tiptoes on the counter every time he went to buy a book there, trying to see over it with his eyes barely catching the old woman's tender smile. Remus would give anything to live those days once again. “She told me that she heard about… you know, the accident. And she said that she wouldn't hesitate to give me a hand if I needed it.” Remus sighed, everyone had been doing that. Feeling sorry for him. Was that supposed to make him feel better? Because he only felt more miserable.

Remus rambled on about that lady for a moment. He had been doing that a lot lately. He couldn't do anything but think, so he had become something of a gossip lady. He couldn't remember the lady's name, but he could remember something very specific. He remembered that that lady's daughter had died, and that she was taking care of her grandson by herself. It was curious, that thing in particular seemed to have been erased from his memory until now. He was surprised to notice all the suffering that that lady had been hiding behind her smile for so many years and Remus not only didn't give it any importance, he also cared so little that he simply forgot about it. He couldn't help but wonder if that would happen to him too. If everyone would eventually forget about his suffering, about his accident. Remus couldn't help but think of his friends turning their backs on him, of his son turning his back on him.

At that point he was just rambling. But his mind had become a black cloud of negative thoughts that followed him everywhere. Maybe they were just stupid thoughts, but he couldn't help it. It's just that he felt so, so useless. He felt like a baby that needed to be taken care of, and he didn't believe that anyone would want to take care of him forever.

It seemed curious how everyone seemed to have so many experiences, so much pain within them. And how simply everything that makes a person cannot be seen behind a look, behind a smile. It was even cruel how everyone just continued with their happiness when so many others were suffering in silence, forgotten. Remus assumed that; everyone suffers in their own circumstances, but that we were always selfish enough to put our pain above that of others. No matter what. Because at the end of the day, we are all a little selfish. Even him, completely forgetting the suffering of the lady he saw almost every day on his way to work.

And no one cared about the pain of a man who couldn't even move.

“And then I remembered that I hadn't seen her grandson in a while, I asked her about it and she didn't hesitate to tell me” He couldn't help but let out a small giggle at that. [Y/N] remembered how much that woman liked to talk and vent about her life. “She told me that her grandson moved, that he was studying at a university. Then she started complaining that her prince” He rolled his eyes at the nickname, smiling. Remus would have smiled alongside him if he could. He had never before noticed how beautiful it was to smile at his son. “left and given up the cashier job. So I didn't hesitate and asked her when I could start working.” He said, with a boyish, victorious smile. Like a child proud of his little achievement.

His son was growing up alone in front of his eyes and he couldn't do anything to accompany him. It felt horrible to miss out on his son's life as time continued to pass and pass before his eyes. Remus looked at his boy, barely noticing the innocent features of his little boy on the face of the teenager about to become a man in front of him. [Y/N] was so much like him, in some way or another. Molly had mentioned it several times, his son looked like him. Sometimes it was small gestures, sometimes it was the way he explained things, or sometimes the angle where he looked at his face. But his boy had a lot of him in him. Sometimes Remus looked at [Y/N] and couldn't help but see himself. To see in his son's eyes the same eyes he had been looking in the mirror for years. Remus couldn't help but think that [Y/N] was an improved version of him. And he was so proud of his son.

“Mhm! I haven't told you” [Y/N] said, removing the fork from Remus' suddenly, just when Remus was about to make an effort to swallow. [Y/N] raised the fork to his mouth casually, as if he didn't notice. Remus watched as his son swallowed the food that was meant for him and couldn't help but want to giggle. It was such an innocent, dumb action. [Y/N] hadn't even realized and for some reason it touched him. Remus really, really wished he could hug his boy right then. “I had a new DADA teacher this year” [Y/N] began to tell, Remus' interest quickly piqued. “I think he's my favorite so far.. he's not as good as you, of course, but I like him. His name is Edward.. I hope he lasts and doesn't leave after a year like all DADA teachers, I don't want Snape to be my teacher” [Y/N] said, making a small expression of disgust that Remus would laugh at if he could. He was happy to know that [Y/N] liked his new teacher. Remus regretted not being able to continue being his son's teacher, but at least now he knew that his replacement was good and that his son would continue to maintain a good education. Although he would love to be able to teach his son himself.

Remus looked up, meeting [Y/N]’s eyes again. But this time [Y/N] was silent. Remus knew his son well enough to know he was thinking about something. [Y/N] seemed hesitant this time, his lips pressed together, trying to decide if he should express what he was thinking. Finally, he decided to do it. “...They miss you... your students, they miss you.” Remus knew it, he had received many letters from his students after the accident. He loved teaching DADA. Teaching, communicating, connecting. He missed it so much. His classes, his students. And they missed him too. He was missed, and he didn't know if that made him feel better or worse. “...You were a wonderful teacher, dad.”

A bitter tear ran down his cheek. And then another, and another, and Remus couldn't stop it. He tried to swallow the heavy lump in his throat but the bitterness ran through his body and swallowing hurt. His eyes clouded over and Remus couldn't see his son's worried face anymore. Remus missed so much, so much, that he would give what little was left of him to relive a single day of his old life. “Dad…” [Y/N] murmured worriedly, terrified to see his father crying. He reached out and gently placed his hand on top of Remus'. Oh, his boy. His sweet boy. Remus owed his boy so much. His weak hand struggled to move, finding his son's and giving it a gentle squeeze, a squeeze that was the only thing he had left from those old hugs. He missed being able to hold his son. Remus remembered his baby, his little baby boy, so small and fragile in his arms. So innocent and so pure, sleeping in his father's arms with all the tenderness of a small being. Remus couldn't believe that that tiny baby was now this amazing young boy in front of him. Remus didn't know how he managed to raise someone so wonderful but he was so proud. Remus didn't deserved him, he just didn't.

“Dad don't.. don't cry” He stammered, feeling emotional himself. His father was the strongest person [Y/N] knew, and seeing him like this, so vulnerable, so fragile, so hurt, broke his heart. Things weren't easy for [Y/N] either, he had cried entire nights missing his father. It was all so scary, so sudden. He was just a young boy who now had to face everything by himself. And he still needed his dad, he needed him so much. His care, his guidance. Now he was the one who had taken over as caretaker, and although [Y/N] knew he would do anything for his father, he was terrified. And lost. “I…” [Y/N] bited his lip, trying to hold back his own tears. He didn't know what to say. Seeing the man who raised him break down like that in front of him scared him so much.

[Y/N] could feel the weak grip on his hand. His father's desperate attempt for contact, to feel him close again. He squeezed his hand back, feeling completely destroyed inside. Was this all that was left of his father? [Y/N] missed him so much. He would do anything to be able to hear his father's voice one more time. [Y/N] trembled, swallowing the lump in his throat. His father used to tell him how brave and strong he was when he was little, he wanted to have those words present at all times. Especially now that his father couldn't use his voice to remind him himself. He knew that's what his dad would want him to do. He wiped away the tears with his free hand and then leaned towards Remus, giving him a soft, gentle kiss on the cheek. “It’s okay dad… don't be sad.” He said with a trembling voice, not knowing what to say to take away his father's immense pain. He looked at him, his father's gentle face now static and haggard. He could see the deep sadness behind those empty long-suffering eyes. His father's warm chocolate eyes seemed to have darkened.

“I… I love you so much, dad” His voice had become small and weak, no matter how hard he tried to keep it steady. “And… you don't know.. how much it hurts me to see you like this” this time he just couldn't hold back his tears. “I just… I miss you so much… You don't know... You don't know how much I need you... I need my dad, I...” he trembled “I know you raised me to be brave but... Dad… I'm so scared” He looked at the ground, unable to look his father in the eyes as he finally broke down like a little child. “Please.. come back… I still need you…” He whispered weakly, sobbing as he looked at the ground. Trembling with no one to comfort him.

[Y/N] let himself cry, cry like he had been crying all those nights since the accident, cry like a scared little boy. He liked to imagine his father's long arms hugging him, hiding him in his chest, away from fear, away from everything. Just him and his father's warm love. He wanted to be comforted one more time, just one more time, like when he was a little. He needed it more than ever. He remembered his small form, tiny in front of Remus' large body. He remembered how he used to crawl under his father's sweaters and long coats in the winter, refusing to leave. He remembered his father's sweet chuckle, looking down at him with his warm eyes “So you're going to live in there, huh? Then I guess I'll have to pay you rent.” [Y/N] perfectly remembered his father's voice saying that and it hurt him so much.

It was at that moment when he felt a subtle, soft, almost phantom caress of his father's thumb on his hand. [Y/N] looked up, thinking that perhaps it had been his imagination, that his mind was cruelly playing with him. But there it was. His father's long, weak fingers were moving ghostly. Caressing him. Speaking without speaking. [Y/N] began to cry again, but no longer from sadness. He trembled as he felt his father's caress, because it was a caress that provided comfort, it was a caress that provided love, it was a caress that said 'I'm still here.’

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever

[cephalonheadquarters]

redrew that one dribble & spitz game thing because .they remind me of my ocs😃

other versions & og under cut

If youre wondering how chamelo can use the trizooka . its modified it does not shoot ink Lolllll

[gophergal]

Piss jar man and his piss jar van