#no one will remain happy in the end otherwise. we need to find reasons to stay afloat in the midst of all the fuck shit

[honnojis]

Random thought maybe, but I will always think and advocate for that culture and life should be celebrated no matter what. There's so many awful things happening all the time and so many reports about people being terrible that it's easy to lose sight of the positives and how beautiful our world and its people can be, and most importantly; how it's worth trying to preserve it.

"But this terrible thing is happening over there! Why would you be throwing a party now?!" Of course it's terrible that these things are happening, and I never said we should be dismissing those things! But world news can get overwhelming very quickly, and if we keep submerging ourselves in a constant stream of negativity, in the end everyone will just be utterly miserable. I genuinely do think it's good to turn to your direct environment instead of an internet bubble from time to time and simply focus on the environment and people you have in front of you. Or seek it out elsewhere if your environment can't provide it in some way; it's never truly far away.

Not only does celebrating culture help with bringing people together, it also helps bringing other people joy and sometimes a much-needed break from the aforementioned stream of negativity. With almost every news outlet and social media it's discourse and negative happenings that garner engagement; and that's what they'll almost always be reporting on. Drowning yourself in that stuff all the time just straight up isn't healthy! Sometimes you just need to have a day where you can forget about all of that and find a moment or reason to celebrate what we love to continue powering through everything life may throw at us otherwise.

And no, I don't wanna hear anything about "oh but this culture is bad for [THING] :/", that's not what this post is about. This is a post for the appreciation of the cultures that make the world so wonderfully diverse and happy in their own way. Culture in so many ways is a celebration of life and the world around us, and we need to have something that's worth keeping around, right?

[waytooinvested]

Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 26

This and previous chapters are also on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lena was perhaps unreasonably proud of the small cup of lime jello she had managed to get her hands on, and bore it back to Kara with the air of a conquering hero bringing home the holy grail.

In her defence, it had been a mission to find. At L-Corp all she would have to do would be to buzz the request through to Jess, and within 15 minutes she would have had half a dozen different brands and flavours on her desk to choose from, but here at the DEO she had to do it the hard way. It turned out that surprisingly few of the very serious field agents, scientists and tech geniuses that worked at this particular top secret government organisation brought jello to work with them for lunch, and even fewer still had it untouched at 2.30pm. In fact, this applied to exactly one person in the entire building, as far as Lena had been able to ascertain: Ms Ewa Jagoda, alien toxicology specialist, jello enthusiast, and Lena’s official new favourite DEO lab technician.

She had intended to present the jello with a dramatised retelling of her misadventurous quest, both to keep up her own distraction and to make Kara laugh, but in the time she had been gone it seemed visiting hour had opened up. On one side of the bed J’onn was talking to Kara with a paternal expression that mingled stern and concerned in equal measure, while beside him Kelly gently combed the last traces of dried blood and street dust from her hair. Across from them Nia and Brainy were good naturedly bickering over the ideal placement and wording for a leg cast signature, passing a marker back and forth between them without stopping their debate long enough to actually write anything down. It was such a familiar scene, all of them talking over each other and cracking jokes, that it took a moment for Lena to work out what was wrong with it. Then it hit her: Nia, Brainy, J’onn, Kelly, Kara, but no Alex.

She was here, in the room, but rather than being gathered in by the bedside she was standing off to one side, leaning up against the wall with Kara’s chart in her hand. She had washed the tear tracks from her face at some point since they’d talked, but it did nothing to disguise the lingering redness around her eyes or the ragged scabbiness of a lower lip chewed to the point of bleeding one too many times. She was ostensibly making medical notes, but the fact that her gaze remained fixed on one point and she never actually put pen to paper suggested otherwise. Alex was clearly not okay.

Lena glanced briefly over at Kara, the part of her heart that always tugged in that direction urging her to move towards the bedside, to claim a place beside her, take hold of her hand and never let it go. Today of all days with her fear and shock still roiling just below the surface the instinct was difficult to ignore, but Lena managed to hold back. Kara was in the midst of a game of tic tac toe with Kelly on her otherwise still unsigned cast, and seemed happy with the company of her friends. She didn’t need Lena right now, and after a second or two more of silent internal wrestling, she made her way over to the elder Danvers sister instead.

‘Hey. All okay?’ she murmured, keeping her voice low enough not to draw anyone else’s attention to the question.

‘Huh?’

Alex stopped tapping the end of her pen against her teeth and looked at Lena distractedly, blinking slowly back from whatever thoughts had been absorbing her.

‘Oh, yeah, it’s all fine. She’s doing as well as we could reasonably hope for at this stage without you-know-whats, and there’s no internal damage to speak of. She should make a full recovery.’

‘That’s great news, but I actually meant you… no offence Alex, but you look awful.’

Alex snorted.

‘Thanks a lot Luthor. Do you actually know what no offence means?’

For once Lena hadn’t actually been trying to be provoking, but Alex had clearly taken the comment as part of their usual banter and huffed back at her, giving her a little poke in the ribs with the chewed end of her pen as if the comment had been a dire insult. Lena briefly considered apologising, but it was good to see the vague, distant expression transformed into Alex’s comfortably familiar trademark Luthor v. Danvers snark-battle scowl.

If she had been talking to Kara, or Jess, or even Sam, Lena probably would have gentled her approach at this point even so. She was concerned for her friend, and wanted to take care of her as best she could in their current circumstances. But she suspected that despite her protestations Alex, like Lena herself, would not want to be coddled right now. Breaking down in a roomful of people (even people you loved) was humiliating, and there was nothing that could bring down walls so effectively as someone being sweet to you when you were trying to be strong. So Lena wasn’t sweet. She folded her arms and met Alex’s glower with an unyielding look of her own.

‘Well, I’m not wrong.’

Alex narrowed her eyes, preparing to argue, but then apparently decided she didn't have the energy for it. She hugged the chart to her chest like it might somehow shield her, and let the scowl drop.

‘Yeah.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘There’s nothing to talk about, really. It just- it feels different this time, you know? I’ve been here so many times before it should just feel like another day at the office, but it never does, and somehow this one’s worse than usual. For all the… incidents… we’ve had, they’re almost always in the midst of world ending fights where a certain amount damage is expected, and most times the injured party is back to normal within a few hours. But this- it’s not meant to be like this. I know we’ll find a way to fix it eventually, but what if-’

Alex broke off, unable to say more with the risk of being overheard so acute, but Lena didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence to know what came next. Alex was scared that Kara would hurt herself again before they found a cure to return her invulnerability, and that next time this happened she wouldn’t be so lucky. Lena was scared of that too.

‘I know.’

They stood together in silent solidarity for a few moments, then Alex nudged her again.

‘I was going to return the compliment and point out in great detail all the ways you look awful, but you actually don’t. You look… weirdly unruffled. Like, unnaturally so. And as much as that makes me want to rough you up a little to even things out, I’m guessing this is just that thing you do, and at some point it’s going to break and become a full on freak out?’

Lena could have denied it, insisted that she really was totally fine: another day, another near death experience for herself or a loved one; but at some point in their re-aquaintenceship and without her noticing it happening, things had shifted so far with Alex that bluffing would have been pointless. She knew her too well for that now. Besides, after their afternoon of breaking things together there was an element of camaraderie to their shared turmoil, and Lena found she didn’t even want to lie about it. So she shrugged.

‘That’s the plan, yes. It’s on my to do list for when I leave here, actually.’

‘On your- y’know, if anyone but you or Brainy said that I’d assume they were speaking figuratively, but-’

Lena pulled out her phone and navigated quickly into her personal calendar, smirking as she held it out to show Alex the 15 minute block labelled ‘Feel Things’ she had entered for this evening. It wasn’t serious, obviously. She might be a Luthor, but even she couldn��t plan her emotional breakdowns quite so precisely. It was more like a promise to herself, and a reminder that while she needed to keep a handle on herself right now, maybe putting everything into a box and never looking at it again wasn’t how she wanted to deal with things anymore, and at some point that meant she was going to have to feel it (later though. Much later. And alone). It had also been a whim that she had only indulged in order to kill a few extra seconds while she waited for the elevator to carry her and her newly acquired jello back to this level, and one she probably would have deleted in embarrassment given another hour or so. Now though, as Alex choked on her laughter at the sight of it, she was glad she hadn’t.

‘You actually did. Jeez Luthor, the inside of your brain must be really-’

‘Lena, hey!’

Up until now they had been conversing barely above a whisper, but at the bright peel of Alex’s laughter Kara had looked up from her game and at last realised Lena was back in the room. Her bruised face lit up with a lob-sided, swollen lipped grin that could equally have been for Lena or the vibrantly green dessert she was holding. It was painfully endearing, and like a moth to a flame Lena took an automatic step towards it, then paused and turned back to Alex.

‘Hey… if you want to get drunk about this later, I have a $2000 dollar bottle of scotch with our names on it. Just say the word.’

Alex blinked at her – she was usually the one to reach out to make plans, while Lena was the one being coaxed into them, it had never happened this way round before. She smiled, a quieter version of Kara’s surround sound beam, and a little of her weariness seemed to fall away.

‘Yeah, okay... I’ll text you.’

‘Do.’

Then Lena gave in to Kara’s magnetic pull and made her way swiftly to the bedside, jello cup held out in front of her like an offering.

‘I can’t believe you actually found this for me! I realised after you were gone that the pain meds were maybe making me a bit loopy and there was no way you could actually get jello without trekking a mile out to the nearest grocery store. But you did! You are officially the best.’

Kara balanced the pot on the edge of her cast, freeing her good hand long enough to give Lena’s a grateful squeeze, their fingers curling together so naturally that the idea of letting go seemed impossible. But then Brainy held out the spoon that he had apparently (inexplicably, since no one had told him Lena was off looking for jello) thought to bring with him into the room, and the moment passed.

It would have been ridiculous to feel a little pang of loss as Kara withdrew her warm fingers from hers, so Lena didn’t. She looked round at everyone else and used her empty hand to wave at them all instead, as if that was why it had been held out in the first place.

‘Hi.’

J’onn and Brainy responded with smiles, nods and murmured greetings, and Kelly pulled Lena into a quick hug. She was just relaxing into it when Nia followed up her friendly ‘hey’ with ‘aren’t you meant to be out of town until tomorrow though? Did you cancel your big press thing?’ and Lena stiffened.

As one everyone in the room turned to look at her, Kelly’s arm going slack around her tense shoulders and Kara freezing with a heaped spoonful of jello quivering just outside her open mouth. The question was clearly well intentioned, but Lena still wished Nia hadn’t asked it. It made it hard to keep ignoring the twisting in her insides that was determinedly trying to remind her just what a big deal this might have been for L-Corp.

‘I didn’t cancel. They didn’t need me for the product demo anyway, and I had someone step in to give my speech. It’s all taken care of... But if anyone asks, I’m currently recovering from an emergency appendectomy.’

She forced a chuckle, trying to break the tension and make it a joke, but it fell flat, and Kara dropped her over-laden spoon back into its pot with a soft, dismayed splat.

‘You told them you had appendicitis? I’m so sorry you had to do that for me when I’m not even badly hurt, and it was all my own stupid fault. I feel awful.’

‘Oh no, Kara, this one was all me.’ Alex finally abandoned her post by the wall to reassure her sister, stepping in to stand beside Brainy and casting guilty glances between Kara (bruised and now slightly jello spattered but very much alive and more or less well) and Lena (still dressed in her presentation outfit and probably wearing a fixed grimace of discomfort from all the attention, though apparently not enough of one to divert it).

‘Lena, I’m the one that asked you to come back without thinking about what else you were in the middle of. I’m sorry for putting you in a difficult position when we didn’t even know how bad it was yet.’

Lena frowned. ‘If you hadn’t told me I would be plotting where to bury your murdered body right now, as I’m sure you would me if our positions had been reversed. It was my choice to drop everything and I’m glad I did, so please, don’t worry about it.’

She meant what she said, but it didn’t diminish the unease that still writhed in her belly at the reminder of just how abruptly she had abandoned the press conference. She wondered how Jess had gotten on without her, and whether Raj and Amanda had managed the product demo as smoothly as they had in previous events. Had there been questions they couldn’t answer? Had anyone pressed the issue of Lena’s sudden non-attendance? She hadn’t talked to many people ahead of the event, but enough of the staff had seen her looking not at all like someone about to collapse with a ruptured appendix that it was possible her story was going to be interrogated.

Still, there was nothing she could do about any of that right now. She needed to focus on Kara for the moment, and when she got home later she would start on damage control. She’d call Jess to check she was alright after being thrown to the metaphorical wolves. She’d make sure her bonus was processed right away, and maybe order a muffin basket or something as an extra thank you. Then she would go through the conference footage and draft something for the press to smooth over anything that needed smoothing. Whatever had happened, Lena could deal with it. And even if the whole thing had been the worst PR disaster imaginable, she was still glad she had made the decision she had. If Kara had been more badly hurt, if she had died without her while Lena was off talking to the press, she would never have been able to forgive herself.

She did her best to focus back in on the conversation the others were having, which had thankfully moved on from Lena to the best flavour of jello (black cherry, or else anything with a bit of zing to balance out the sweetness. Strawberry was also acceptable, but Brainy’s assertion that it was berry blue was preposterous, and frankly objectionable), and what exactly it was about it that made it so satisfying to eat (the jiggles, obviously).

After twenty minutes or so Alex said that Kara was looking tired, and as her doctor she thought they’d better all leave her to rest now, so one by one the others hugged her (carefully), told her how glad they were that she was alright, then filed out the room. Lena reluctantly made to do the same, but Kara held on when she moved to straighten from the hug.

‘Stay with me a little while longer? I’m not too tired for you.’

She shuffled over on her mattress as best she could, patting the space beside her invitingly.

‘I should probably at least sit on the chair, I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘You won’t hurt me. Besides, being in pain makes me kind of needy, and I want to be held… if you’d be okay with that?’

Lena felt her lower lip tremble slightly with the request. There was nothing in the world she wanted right now as much as she wanted to hold Kara, but it wasn’t going to make keeping her feelings in under control any easier…

But maybe it didn’t matter.

Maybe she didn’t care anymore.

Screw her carefully scheduled slot to feel things only once she was safely alone. Kara had nearly died today, and they both needed this too much to deny it.

Lena kicked off her stilettos, taking a beat to savour the sudden reduction of pain as her feet dropped back into their natural position and her toes wriggled gratefully against the cold linoleum. The small concession to comfort felt so good that after a moment’s consideration she followed it up by shrugging out of her blazer, untucking her shirt and loosening her tight chignon before finally easing herself into the space Kara had made for her, moving slowly to avoid jostling any injured parts. As soon as Lena’s arm was in place around her shoulders Kara relaxed into the embrace, a long, quiet breath escaping her lips in a sigh that could have been pain or relief or simple exhaustion.

‘Thank you. I know you probably have other places to be right now, but I’m really grateful for you staying here with me like this.’

Lena pulled her in a little closer, the physical contact making her feel suddenly, absurdly protective, as if she could somehow retroactively keep Kara from getting hurt just by holding her close enough.

‘Forget other places to be, I don’t want to let you out of my sight. Look what happened last time.’

‘Well, I don’t think I’m very likely to get in much trouble from here.’

‘I wouldn’t put it past you after what happened today. What if you decide hospital bed stair surfing would be a good idea next?’

It was meant to be a joke, but the tone came out all wrong and it didn’t feel like one to Lena. At this point she wasn’t sure she could put anything past this version of Kara who seemed to have all of Supergirl’s recklessness and none of her invincibility, and the thought made her simultaneously sick with worry and hot with anger that Kara could treat her life so casually. It was one thing when she was saving the world, but this risk had been so pointless.

Kara however either missed or willfully ignored her tone, taking what she’d said at face value and grinning the mischievous grin that would usually make Lena melt, playing along as if their situation was perfectly normal.

‘Now there’s an idea. I bet if you took a run up and pushed I could get up enough speed to make it all the way down without rolling.’

‘KARA!’

Lena’s voice cracked, and Kara’s smile faded as she finally noticed the tears glimmering on her lashes.

‘Hey… Lena, I’m just kidding.’

She knew that, of course. Downplaying and making light of traumatic events was Kara’s default coping mechanism, and she hadn’t even really been the one to start it this time… But still, it tore at the walls Lena was maintaining around her feelings and grated at her frayed nerves. The anger she had been trying so hard to tell herself wasn’t there stirred again, hot and desperate insider her, and she snapped:

‘Don’t. Not about this.’

She met Kara’s eyes as the expression in them finally began to lose its playful twinkle, but it wasn’t enough. She needed her to feel it, and Lena poured every ounce of sincerity she dared to express into her next words.

‘Kara... I’m furious with you for jumping off that roof. You understand that, right? I’m too relieved and you’re too hurt for me to yell at you about it, but I also can’t listen to you joke like it’s nothing. If you died it would break me. And if you died because of something so stupid-’

‘I won’t.’

Kara’s interruption forestalled the rest of Lena’s admonishment, but she wasn’t quite ready to leave it at that. She needed to hear her say it properly.

‘You won’t what?’

‘I won’t joke anymore. You’re right, it’s not fair on you. I can’t even imagine how I’d feel if it was the other way round, if it was you who had-’

Kara broke off with what probably would have been a shudder if not for her sore muscles, and nudged in a little closer against Lena’s side.

‘I promise I won’t do anything like this again. I really am sorry for what happened, I swear I never meant to cause all this trouble.’

‘So... why did you do it? I know you’ve been enjoying climbing and paragliding and the rest, but you must have known how reckless this was. What got into you Kara?’

‘I’ve been asking myself that ever since I woke up here, and the answer is… I honestly don’t know. Looking back I can see that it was a stupid thing to do, but it didn’t feel reckless to me at the time. I can’t explain it in a way that makes any sense, but when I was doing it, it just felt like I couldn’t fall. Like gravity wasn’t even an issue for me, and the air would catch me and carry me where I needed to go. Up on that rooftop I felt so close to- I don’t know, something. It was like if I just went on a little bit longer, jumped a little bit further, everything would click, and I wouldn’t need to keep chasing that feeling anymore… Urgh, that sounds so crazy. Maybe I am crazy.’

Lena softened at once.

‘Oh darling, of course you’re not.’

Actually, the explanation made far too much sense, and she couldn’t even really blame Kara for it (well alright, she could. Kara was still an adult supposedly capable of rational decision making who had jumped off a damned roof. But maybe it wasn’t just her fault). After all, Lena was the one that had poked a hole in her mental barrier without understanding how it worked and let just enough of Supergirl leak out to make Kara feel like she could fly without any of the actual accompanying powers to back it up. She was also the one that had made Kara promise to wait until they’d researched proper abseiling techniques, then failed to follow through and help her find a safe outlet when it was obviously something she badly needed. And she was the one who still, after months working on the problem, hadn’t found a way to bring back Kara’s memories and physical invulnerability to make sure something like this couldn’t happen to her in the first place.

Kara must be so confused...

‘It was probably just the adrenaline high, you got carried away. I’m sure you’re not the first person to experience that, and you won’t be the last. And as long as that was your last, I won’t keep going on about it anymore. I’m just glad you’re going to be alright.’

‘Me too. And it’s definitely the last, I’ve learned my lesson.’

The remains of Lena’s anger at her best friend drained away, and she let her head fall back into the pillows behind them in relief.

‘That’s okay then.’

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Replies! About Jamil’s roommate, twst boys making each other jealous, Jade feeding Silver funny mushrooms (again) and some other twst stuff.

Anonymous asked:

hi i love ur art sm. i love how often u draw ortho bc some of the twst fandom always leave him out <//3 thank u and have a great day!!

Thank you, Anon!! It means a lot! <3

Ortho really is underappreciated, and I think a lot of people just aren’t sure what to do with him… and some people are genuinely uncomfortable with him lol But he has so much to offer and is so unique and interesting that I can’t really help it. He is a joy to draw, and I am always happy when people like drawings of him.

Have a great day too!

Anonymous asked:

I don't like your latest artwork at all. At all!!! It's smug aura mocks me...

that feeling when you realize you will never have a cozy morning jamil greeting you when you wake up. why even live

(DON'T READ THE REST of this ask if you don't want spoilers for his birthday vignette, I don't even know if what I'm going to say counts as spoilers or if you care about these kind of vignettes)

They briefly introduced Jamil's mob roommate, and of course we don't get to know a lot about him (he's a mob after all), but I thought it was funny that his main contribution to the vignette was sleeping through every noise Jamil makes (like drying his hair or when his alarm clock goes off). I like to think that he is the one mob student who just isn't interested in Jamil in the slightest. It's not that he doesn't think he is pretty, it's just that it does nothing for him. Jamil, you need to treasure him!

Ouch, Anon! But also, fair! There is nothing to like about that latest artwork! If anything, it’s offensive! 😤 (thank you so much <333 and also thank you for this existential dread; why even live indeed…)

I KEEP FORGETTING THAT THE MAJORITY OF THESE BOYS HAVE ROOMMATES OMG Jamil and his mob roommie!! 🥹 lol it really would be funny if he was that one (1) Scarabia student who doesn’t have the hots for Jamil. Poor Jamil really needs to have one person around him that doesn’t look at him like a hungry animal. And finding this one guy took so much luck from Jamil that he remained luckless for the rest of his life 😔 rip

But also maybe this guy is just very good at pining quietly…

Anonymous asked:

re: jack x epel, i can see epel hooking up with people (slut smh) and not wanting any strings attached, and although i think jack wouldn’t be into hooking up…sometimes deuce isn’t around when he’s unbearably horny and he does share a class with epel, who’s more than happy to help a hot buff wolf man…and sometimes deuce will hang around ace and it makes jack jealous so he recruits epel to make deuce jealous >:3

the drama!

Oh god, the first years just keep fucking each other to make each other jealous!! 😭 This is why romance is forbidden in this kind of schools, because otherwise this shit happens! (fun fact: I have a little comic about Ace recruiting Epel to make Deuce jealous, but for now it’s only been posted on ko-fi) In all seriousness, these boys really are horny and petty enough for all kinds of drama to happen.

Epel would also probably be very into the fact that he is being this cool and mature… he would expect to be more experienced by Jack but 😔

Anonymous asked:

So which of the twst cast would flirt with someone else to get someone jealous? Also who would do it for funsies, to get back at them as petty revenge or some other petty reason?

APPARENTLY THE ENTIRETY OF THE FIRST YEAR! Shame on them! Shame on these boys! Sebek is the only normal one! 😡

In reality though, I can see Ace doing it; Deuce wouldn’t do it intentionally, he just ends up in these situations that make Ace jealous. Epel would absolutely try to do it though. Ortho might too, actually, but he would just tease a little bit…

Azul would be petty enough to do it but he isn’t super liked by others, so there probably won’t be much flirting happening lol Idia might tease Azul like that though, but it would backfire horribly somehow. I wouldn’t call it “flirting” though because Idia isn’t much of a flirt, but complimenting someone for being good at board-games is enough to get Azul mad.

Jade would do it in a very obvious way, almost too crudely for how sneaky and manipulative he usually is. But that’s absolutely intentional.

Jamil probably would, but not with Kalim – he knows that this kind of thing wouldn’t really work with him, and they don’t have this kind of relationship… pissing Azul off would be funny to him though because his reactions are very obvious.

Vil might do it a little bit; I keep thinking about that one jp RookVil comic about Vil surrounding himself with the Savanaclaw mobs during Beanfest and thinking  “it wouldn’t hurt for you to get jealous every once in a while”. Not something he usually goes for, but if he is feeling a little bit petty (i.e. after the VDC)? Easily.

Rook and Lilia both do it a lot but it’s never their intention to make someone else jealous lol

Malleus would be petty enough to do something like that though. As someone who often feels left out and neglected, he would be overjoyed to see someone getting jealous of him and upset with him flirting with someone else. He made Lilia jealous a couple of times, and it’s always such a big win for him that he can’t stop grinning very smugly…

Anonymous asked:

So apparently there is a mushroom called caterpillar mushroom which works similarly to viagra....

Jade likes mushrooms

Take what you want from this ask..... 😈

Anon, the mushroom itself is both fascinating and disturbing at the same time. Jade would be enamoured by it; both by how difficult it is to grow it and how powerful it is. He absolutely will start growing some. Why do you have caterpillars in your room, Jade? No reason. What is it that grows on their little silly heads? Just a little project…

He will definitely take his time deciding what would be the best use for it, but since he has to check if it works or not anyway, he would need a guinea pig. I guess it means Silver is getting another risotto 🤤

m1lk-n-cook1es asked:

A little prompt I had after reading the  Sleeping Beauty alternate story "Once Upon a Nightmare" that I found on AO3

"Silver fell to a sleeping spell that lasts for nine months. During this time, Lilia nonconed Silver roughly, and Silver ended up pregnant. And after Lilia found out he was pregnant, he began banging Silver in his sleep. One day, during the last day of the spell, Silver woke up in pain (both from contractions and Lilia banging him). Lilia banged Silver as he gave birth to twins. Lilia was disappointed he woke up, but happy that he had kids and planned to play with Silver more"

What a lovely family these two are 🥹

Really makes you think about how fucked up the original fairy tale actually is. It really is the somnophilia story, and Silver is the absolute star of it! Thanks Lilia for being this horrible.

While the topic of pregnancy and giving birth isn’t something that I like, the dark fucked up vibe of this prompt makes it kind of fun…

Anonymous asked:

This but with Lilia: https://youtu.be/AD95PSX7ntE?si=DRQmAWJBuonRvATT

Oh my GOD this is literally Lilia NOOOO

With his silly dance and his historically accurate Exes!

(in all seriousness, I am stunned by the production quality and editing of this video lol very impressive!!)

[fandomworld9728]

The Morningstar Pack - Chapter 1

(This chapter gets NSFW!)

"Alastor, for the last time, you are not going to kill my father." This is not what Lucifer wanted to be doing with this insufferable man right now. They could be doing much more fun or productive things. Or even picking up from when they were interrupted that morning.

However, the Radio Demon was insistent on his plan to murder the Lord in Heaven. When asked about his reason behind it, he explain how he believed God was trying to make it so Lucifer and Adam would end up together.

Honestly, Lucifer couldn't blame Alastor for thinking that. He knew for a fact that his father was a huge supporter of him and Adam. It's why he had been allowed to reproduce with the first man all those years ago.

"Al. God is not trying to cockblock you."

"Look at the evidence, my dear. Until I'm proven wrong, I am sticking to my plans."

"Yeah? Well, I don't want my idiotic deer to be reduced to a pile of ashes. Especially not right in front of me."

"As if I would allow- What did you say?"

Both men were silent as Lucifer's words registered. A gold blush spreading across his face as a smug smirk settled on the sinner's lips.

"So, I'm yours now, sire? Careful what you say. I do not like to share."

Alastor knew at some point he would have to share the fallen angel, but that didn't mean he had to like it. This was progress though. True progress. He now had verbal confirmation that the king wanted him too and not just physically. That helped cool the burning jealously inside him at the thought of sharing what was his.

"W-Well... T-That is- fuck." The omega found himself backed up against a wall and couldn't find it in himself to care at the moment. Not when his alpha's touch was making him feel so good.

Startled by that thought, Lucifer used all his remaining willpower to push Alastor's hands away. Ignoring the frustrated growl from the other man, he gave him a serious look. 

"We need to talk about what this... thing between us is before we go any further."

"I believe I've made my intensions known for some time now. However, since I have not properly courted you yet, your confusion is my own fault. Apologies."

So he was right! This wasn't just flirting and their odd sexual tension fueling the sinner. It soothed something inside him and made his decision easier.

"Now that that's been settled," Grabbing the taller man by the shirt, Lucifer yanked him down closer to properly reach him. Why did he always go for ridiculously tall partners? "I can prove to you once and for all that my father is not trying to cockblock you."

Surprised by the sudden shift, Alastor fell to his knees from the fallen angel's show of strength. That had arousal burning in his gut. Filing that away to explore at a later date, he wasted no time in pulling his king close and getting his hands on that smooth, unmarked skin.

Had that really been what worried Lucifer enough to pause their activities? Concern that this was only about sex? If that was the case, Alastor was more than happy to show him otherwise. He'd have to converse with their dear Charlie and maybe one of the Deadly Sins to find the perfect courting gifts. But first, he had his omega to take care of.

The confirmation from both demons about wanting their relationship to be something more serious caused their desperation to grow. No patience for gentle touches, Alastor threaded a clawed hand through those silk-like blonde locks before gripping tightly and tugging. A grin spread across his face at the wide - eyed expression and needy moan he had been rewarded with.

Closing what little distance was life between them, the sinner eagerly swallowed the sound. His other hand that had been busy undoing the fallen angel's shirt and waistcoat, bowtie long ripped off and tossed God knows where, slipped into his pants.

He was so wet. It made pride bloom in his chest as he easily slipped two fingers inside the omega, the whine muffled by their kiss only increasing the feeling. Nothing was going to stop them this time. Not those idiotic angels, not that buffoon Adam, not even their lovely daughter (a thought to reflect upon on a later date) or her partner.

The other residents of the hotel were capable enough to fend off any attacks to the hotel until they were finished. Unless high ranking angels targeted them. That was highly unlikely, so they had nothing to worry about.

Clothes discarded; Alastor pressed the willing and unnaturally warm body under him into the bed and finally, finally, sunk into the tight, wet heat of Lucifer's. It was like his own personal little slice of Heaven. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he forced himself to be still.

"W-Why did you stop?" Grinding down to try and get the alpha to move, Lucifer whimpered and huffed in frustration when instead of enticing the other man to fuck him, he was held still.

The low, amused chuckle above him made him pout but calm down some. What was Alastor waiting for? What more did he have to do?

"Apologies, my dear. I would like to enjoy our time together. I fear I may not last too long if I allow myself to go too wild outside of my rut."

Oh. That was... sweet. Lucifer hadn't expected slow and loving sex so soon into their odd relationship, but hell, he wasn't gonna complain or turn it down. Especially not when it had his inner omega purring in a way it hadn't in many, many years.

Amused at his angel's improved mood at his realization, Alastor set a slow, steady pace and made sure he gave as good as he took. Caressing and kissing the beautiful body under him and the wonderful creature it belonged to.

Yes. Alastor was not going to lose this. Even if it meant he had to... ugh... share. 

Next >

The Life of the Mornginstars - Chapter 1

[tokiro07]

It's actually incredible how much focus Gina is getting in this week's chapter

She's the one to overhear people talking about Rip needing to choose between Latla and Leila

She's the one to cry over Rip seemingly choosing Leila

She's the one shown to have a reaction when Latla yells at Rip for not considering how his actions look to others, seemingly being held back by Sean so she doesn't try to intervene

She's the one to congratulate Latla on getting her happy ending

She has such a strong visual presence in this chapter that otherwise has nothing to do with her, which suggests two things:

Gina is meant to be the audience surrogate, the one who wants to see everything work out for the best and wishes they could help when things are looking their worst

Gina is being telegraphed as being able to empathize with the various positions that Latla is in: the possibility of being passed over for someone else; the guilt that would come with getting in the way of someone else's happiness; the relief in knowing that there is a way for everyone to be happy

The former is definitely true, it's a really easy way to guide the audience's feelings, but the second would be extremely interesting for the prospects of the series going forward

I've been saying for a long time now that Victor and Andy are going to find a way to separate; maybe Andy will get cut straight down the middle and let Victor take over one half, maybe The Heart Artifact will allow a soul with no body of its own to manifest physically, maybe there will be some other Negator ability we don't know about yet that would allow that to happen, who knows. Either way, as things stand, Victor being trapped in Andy means that he can't get his happy ending with Juiz, and I don't think anyone in this fandom would accept that everyone gets to be happy but the two of them

My point being, the goal here is for everyone to be happy in the end. That's why Billy's family is still alive, that's why Akira never became Unknown in the first place, and it's why Rip is marrying both Leila and Latla. No one is getting left behind here, so the question remains: what does Gina's happiness look like?

The Gina of the previous loop was in love with Andy, and the Gina of this loop is infatuated with Fuuko (whether she's actually in love or not is debatable), so it seems like it would be odd for her to fall in love with anyone else just so she could avoid being alone. Since Tozuka has explicitly shown us now that polyamory is on the table, what reason do we have to believe that Andy and Fuuko are going to be exclusive?

Plus, need I remind you all that this chapter is coming from the same week that, in the anime, Fuuko let Andy marry another woman? Tozuka's been laying the groundwork for this since the beginning!

[fluidstatick]

The game has only been out for a few days now, but I watched zmannzilla's longplay of INDIKA yesterday, and I'm rotating it furiously in my mind like it's a rubiks cube. The devs at Odd Meter Studios fled their country to make sure they could finish and release the project, and I'm so grateful they did. The world really needs a game this smart. It makes incredible stylistic choices with the titular character's perception of the world, examines prejudices against the disabled and incarcerated, points a dispassionate philosophical eye at religious corruption, and breaks wildly from expectations over and over again.

More, including some spoilers, under the cut.

The unfortunate anti-Roma and antisemitic moments in some of the background context irritated me. They employ the g slur to refer to a side character, and depict him stealing money. Later, it's said that two brothers who own small businesses across the road from one another are forever angry, because each brother thinks the other one is making more money. We eventually meet one of the brothers, who is unfortunately a blatant hook-nosed handwringing grifter stereotype.

This is a pair of nasty missteps at the back end of an otherwise truly gorgeous horror adventure game. As Indika carries a letter from her monastery to the diocese, she digests the plight of a wartorn community that doesn't trust her, her orthodox religious order, her innate compassion, or her practical knowledge.

While stumbling through the streets of a bleakly reimagined 19th century Russia, Indika gains a reluctant ally, and they grapple with their conflicting philosophies, until those conflicts become a matter of life or death. When is an attempt at salvation actually betrayal? Can the trust Indika has built with her comrade be salvaged? Should it be? What does doing the Right Thing look like in a nuanced, jaded, ambivalent world?

The ending made my breath stick in my throat. The leveling and points system is genius, in my opinion, though I notice many reviewers have already expressed displeasure in it. I think it's powerful and fascinating, if you look at it close enough; the leveling asks, do you want a little bit of a boost now, or accrue a greater store of points over time, later on? Note how each new level ability is labeled. Note what happens each time Indika adds something to her inventory. Light candles. Notice That One Candle that's not like the rest.

Indika finds her way through platform puzzles by navigating her own mind. Level geometry, scale and reason fluctuate wildly. First she's trying to follow orders, then she's trying to survive, then she's trying to make sense of the senseless.

I've seen a little art in the Indika tag so far, and it's mostly shipper stuff. I'm not judging people who bring shipping energy to this story, as there is textual romance here, but I think it's a cog in the story's mechanics, more than a setup for a happy ending. The relationship is tenuous at the best of times. there's honesty in it, but there's also a great deal of stubbornness, resentment, immaturity and selfishness. I don't think there's meant to be a textual happily ever after for either of them. Indika finds a sliver of inner peace behind the shattered remains of her assumptions, and the game ends on a comma, a question mark, a blank space where objectives and threats and grim certainties used to live.

Anyway. Go watch it. Buy and play it for yourself, if you can. Just like its heroine, it isn't perfect. Just like its narrator, it's only as terrifying as you want it to be. And, just like the political and spiritual systems it examines, the surreal meandering narrative has only as much power as you decide to give it.

8.5/10

[infinitethree]

Lee awkwardly sits at one end of the large, round table in the dead center of the room. The five people who have kept a frankly absurd secret from everyone else are crowded on the other end.

“So let me summarize this,” he says, hands pressed together in front of his mouth. “The Swords and Shields were never Aster’s idea, but Daz’s. Daz is actually kind of an asshole–”

Aster opens his mouth, but Lee shoots him a glare that makes him shut it and slide down in his seat.

“--which functionally means that Aster was right to be worried about him at the start. Aleph and Khons got roped into…this, for reasons I still don’t really get. And Raine just– was traumatized and triggered by me being near Dee and Theo, and him trying to protect me from them made him an ideal candidate for the secret cabal at the core of not just the Swords and Shields, but the safety of the entire server.”

Daz studies him for a long moment, and then nods.

Closing his eyes and taking a long, deep breath, Lee lets that soak in for a long moment.

His initial vibe that Aster and Daz would be close had been something that never seemed to fully manifest. It’s been a nagging worry, because Aster’s awkward standoffishness had made Lee sure that he was just wrong about that.

And if he was wrong about that, then what else might he be wrong about? Did it misinterpret the vibes, or were the vibes simply giving him wrong clues?

But he had been right, and more right than he could have fathomed.

In a way, he feels humbled by the revelation of such a massive secret. The five of them have done…Prime only knew how much work behind the scenes, making sure the server remained safe.

Hell– he knows Aster treasures his friendship with Theo. From the way he’s watching Lee, with fear and guilt and tensed like he’s expecting some sort of punishment…this has been a heavy burden for him to bear.

At the same time, though? He feels so very, very small.

What makes him so special? What makes so many people take up his banner, when he already has so many others who are dedicated to helping him?

Aster alone is so much more than he needs. Hell– his family is overprotective as it is!

…In their own, weird way.

But having four more secret Asters, one of whom is actually some sort of freaky expert actor, all entirely devoted to the cause of him?

He doesn’t understand.

At the same time, though…it’s not just him they’re helping. Even if the core of their goal is to make sure he never gets hurt, they do that by maintaining the peace of the sever.

Not through force, but through defusing situations and putting out fires that might otherwise get out of hand.

Ultimately, then, he can’t be mad. A part of him can’t help but be a little hurt that it’s been a secret for so long, but…really, it’s not that awful of a thing.

Lee isn’t a stranger to the idea of operational security. The more people who know, the less effectively they can do their work.

“Okay,” he finally says, opening his eyes. 

He straightens up in his stool– chosen so that he doesn’t have to bother with his wings and one of the regular chairs– and studies them.

“I’m a little hurt that you all lied to me. But it was for a good cause…and, really, it was for everyone.”

Daz smiles at him, full of so much relief and warmth that he finds himself smiling back. The others are smiling too, clearly glad that he’s not too pissed off about their…everything.

He continues, “But there’s a reason you told me this now, right?”

A jarringly serious expression falls over Daz’s face. “Have you heard about the entity that’s been talking to a few people? Your dad and Theo definitely heard them.”

Lee nods, grimacing. The two of them had been…upset, to put it mildly.

Taking a deep breath, Daz says, “Their name is the Scribe, and we made some deals with them. Multiple deals, actually.”

“For what?” “To keep our secrecy, and…a few other things. The Observers like me, apparently,” Daz tells him.

From his expression, he’s not happy about that fact.

Lee presses, “Things like…?” “When one of us gets a question, the others can hear if they’re nearby. We also can tell when we’re being watched.”

A shudder goes down Lee’s spine. That’s definitely useful to have.

“And we’re being watched right now,” Aster says, brow subtly creased.

Well, shit! That’s not something he really wants to have happen.

With a sigh, Daz continues, “And…if you’re nearby, and get a question, we can hear it too.”

It sounds a hell of a lot like the Council gets special treatment. But Daz had said deal, meaning a price was paid.

He looks at the evident ringleader and asks, “What did you give up for that?”

A laugh, tired and slightly bitter escapes Daz. “We’re required to answer. I…had to do something that I can’t really explain.”

Quietly, Raine rests his hand on Daz’s shoulder. It’s subtly leaned into, like he needs the support.

“And because the Scribe is talking to others, you’re worried?” “Mhm. The Observers are getting more active, too– and thus more dangerous.”

For a moment, Daz seems to hesitate. Then he takes another deep breath and tells him, “And the Scribe told me to make things interesting. If I didn’t, they’d find someone else to entertain them. This…is something that always would have happened. I really would have rather it waited until you were older, but–”

“But your hand was forced,” Lee supplies. Daz nods in agreement.

That’s definitely not a scenario that Lee is interested in happening. This Scribe entity is clearly powerful, and might even be the source of the Observers.

Or…at least, linked to them.

Raine finally speaks up again, but he’s not looking at Lee. He’s looking at Daz, looking worried. “I think you need to explain what actually happened, how you got here.”

Oh? There’s a secret to Daz’s past?

Actually, that makes perfect sense. You don’t just become like this overnight.

Another bitter laugh escapes Daz. “Fuck…yeah. With everything that’s gonna– there’s no point in hiding it from you.”

Lee watches him withdraw a butterfly knife. It had been a gift from Theo, made by Dee; the shimmering, rainbow-tinted knife is something Daz uses on occasion for various tasks. He always unfolds it carefully, cautiously, evidently unused to properly wielding it–

The other four scoot their chairs away from him a little, and Daz begins spinning the knife. It dances over his fingers like a magic trick; like it was always meant to be there.

“I willingly joined hands with my Dream in Pogtopia. I swore to do anything for him, if he helped reclaim L’manburg from Schlatt,” Daz begins.

So all the horrible shit he went through was because of that deal? Fuck, no wonder he’s so messed up about being a good, useful person.

Voice almost hypnotic, Daz continues, “The price that Dream asked was to be my mentor. Unbeknownst to me, I had the rare, precious spark that would allow me to become an admin. He was terrified of being alone, abandoned by others who weren’t trapped in the prison he’d made for himself. I was what he had prayed and longed for; a true companion, someone who was capable of standing at his side. Not as his student, but as his equal.”

Lee swallows. He’s not an idiot; he can hear the resentment and bitterness lurking underneath those words.

He also remembers what Daz was like, when he first got here. That’s not something you do to someone you care about.

“When he told me what I was, what I could become…it was everything I had ever dreamed of. Wilbur had nearly killed me, taken one of Tubbo’s lives, and left the server with a real bang. L’manburg was exploded mere moments after he left with Techno. I had nothing but Tubbo, and Dream had saved me. He rescued me from my final death, and he bared his throat to beg for the chance to teach me.” Daz takes another deep breath.

“So I accepted. And…it was good. For a long time, it was nearly perfect. I hid that I could be an admin, but the two of us were able to do our work, do our training, far from the rest of the server. You should look at the coords.”

Curious, Lee does as he was asked.

Holy fucking shit, they’re so far out. It’d take days to get back to the central area from the overworld.

“What the fuck,” he breathes, and Daz grins at him. “I knew this area, so I figured I might as well make use of it.”

“But what about San? You can’t get this far without them knowing–” “I have my ways,” Daz tells him, eyes sparkling a little. “They’re a little weird, though. I’ll explain it later– this’ll be a rabbit hole, otherwise.”

Huffing a bit about not getting the answer right away, Lee settles back in his seat to listen to the story.

Daz’s knife– Bismuth, if he remembers correctly, named for an oddly-shaped stone that has a similarly rainbow tint– is still dancing flawlessly across his hands. Actually, it’s turning into tricks.

He might be showing off a little. Lee isn’t sure if that’s a vibe or just a hunch, though.

“So we were pretty safe from being found out. And in our base, I was able to learn quickly, easily, and without fear of someone seeing something they shouldn’t. I grew quickly, because I wanted to be worth the effort.” Brow furrowing, Daz emphasizes, “I wanted, desperately, to be good enough to stand at his side. He’d become…” the words falter for a moment, and the knife suddenly slips from Daz’s hands.

Idly, he brings his nicked finger to his mouth for a moment before he says, softly, “He was my brother.”

This is clearly, blatantly, something that was deeply traumatic for Daz. It was so horrible that he buried everything about who he really was, only letting it out in places that are in his complete control.

“What happened?”

The question makes Daz’s eyes flick down to the knife. “...Eret and Connor were killed for the third time in a surprise attack. In hindsight, I think it was Karl, but I’m not sure. Tensions that had been rising between us and New L’manburg–”

“So you weren’t close with Tubbo?” “Ah. No…no, Tubbo was my best friend. I would have died for him. But he was president; Quackity was. We never had a war, never had any reason to justify expelling the existing chain of command. Schlatt and Wilbur were banned, and Quackity was the VP. So, he got a promotion,” Daz clarified.

That’s a surprise. A memory wiggles at the back of his mind, and then suddenly pops out. “Wait, didn’t you say he tried to kill you–?”

“Yep. Using Eret and Connor as an excuse to act and information about their deaths as bait, they lured me out. I got trapped in a one-block cage while Quackity, Niki, and Fundy rained poison and instant health pots down on me. Fun fact– splash pots soak into fabric if you use enough of them. Especially gags.”

Prime, that’s terrifying. “And– that’s just torture. Why would they do that?”

Daz sighs. “Nobody knew admins were tied to the server. Nobody but me, Dream, Sapnap, and George. And…George had left. It caused some problems. Quackity assumed that if he could kill Dream and kill me, then he’d be able to take over the server.”

Ah. That…tracks, upsettingly enough.

Despite others’ best efforts to shield in, he’s not unaware of the way things went for the timeline that they can never touch. The base timeline, the blueprint.

Power and greed are good motivators, and Quackities often chase them to a horrifying extent.

“Dream got me out, but it was close. The magic…would have been lethal. He spent all night with me cradled in his arms, watching my code in the hope that if things got worse, he could fix it.”

Lee frowns. “So…you were still on good terms, then.” “Mhm. And then he wanted to kill everyone. I refused to let him touch Tubbo, and…and, well. He always did have terrible taste.”

Before he can ask what that means, Daz explains, “He chose blackstone bricks for the floor of our base. The base he left less and less; the base that held the only person who understood him. It wasn’t until I came here that I even considered it could be a problem.”

“But– wouldn’t he have noticed the server getting quieter?” “Our servers weren’t sapient; no barrier between admins and whatever information they wanted. He was always so fucking stupid about using those skills, though. Always wanted to believe the best in others. And in the end, the sudden stress of nearly losing me made him snap. He took the project we’d been working on, retrofitted loyalty into it, and shoved it in my code.”

Daz’s voice is uncomfortably calm as he says, “Every order felt like my soul was being atomized. I knew it would kill me, eventually. And…after he made me kill Tubbo, I stopped resisting that idea.”

His breath escapes in a horrified rush.

Gods, he can’t even imagine. He knows Tommys– knows that, at their core, a single shining truth remains crystal clear.

Tommys are loyal. They are loyal to the death.

“I frayed at his already waning sanity, forcing him to layer order after order on. Meanwhile, I had disabled all the alarms and laid a breadcrumb trail right to our door.”

His heart aches at the idea that someone he cares about was ever so low. “You wanted them to kill you, and the enchantment was a backup plan.”

Daz smiles a little sadly. “Yeah. I decided I would choose death over defeat. I made sure that no matter what, he would be left exactly as he always feared; alone, broken, and rotting in the ruins of his self-made prison.”

Suddenly, Daz’s tone shifts. “But then the T3 showed up. I was given a sudden, expected chance; I could walk away. It would be even worse than dying, to him. If I was dead, he would kill himself quicker. But…if I was alive, somewhere, with some small chance I might go back…?” An expectedly cruel smile twists across the usually-bubbly man’s lips.

“He would cling onto that hope. He would suffer in agony, in the vain hope that I might one day return to him.”

A shiver goes down his spine, and Daz’s expression shifts to a less distressing one.

Well! That was– that was pretty fucked up. Lee knows, and this time is aware it’s a vibe, that Daz hasn’t been honest in his therapy.

Great. Awesome. Someone who desperately needs actual therapy is instead the only person able to lie well enough to fool not just San but the entire server.

Daz takes the knife and puts it back into his inventory. “So, yeah. I was trained to be an admin, and that’s gonna be useful.”

He doesn’t follow. “Useful for…?”

“I asked Lucid to train me, too.”

Lee stands up, protesting, “Daz, you don’t need to–”

Calmly, Daz interrupts, “I do, though. It gives me the chance not just to monitor Lucid more closely, but to have access to a mod console. With a console, I can teach you better. I don’t want to be a full admin. The idea is kinda of my worst nightmare, actually! But a mod…a mod, I can handle. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.”

Goddamnit. He hates that it makes sense. “But you’re going to be actively triggering yourself constantly. I don’t like that.”

“Tough fucking luck. Life is cruel and unfair, and like or not, I’m going to make sure you never have to learn that lesson the hard way,” Daz tells him.

When he stands up, his posture is one that echoes people that Lee knows all too well.

Technoes, Dreams, Wilburs, even the few Schlatts that he’s seen.

Instinctively, Lee understands that Daz will not budge on this. No matter what Lee says or does, he’s made up his mind.

And, at his core, he still ultimately a Tommy. The other truth of Tommys is that are stupidly, infuriatingly, breathtakingly stubborn.

If a Tommy digs his heels in, it will take an unfathomable amount of force to drag him away.

He sighs, scrubbing a hand through his hair. At his back, he can feel his wings fluttering anxiously.

Lee hates the idea of Daz living and breathing his trauma like he’s planned on doing. At the same time, though, he knows that it will be useful.

Fucking hell. This isn’t really what he thought Aster might be bringing him to face.

As he thinks that, he sees that same man stand hesitantly, awkwardly, just a step away from him. His hands hover and his muted emotions clearly convey that he desperately wants to hug him.

With a soft huff, he steps forward and hugs one of his closest companions.

Aster sighs in relief, wrapping his arms around him.

Something deep inside of him hums in satisfaction. Aster is one of his people, someone he trusts and treasures. He would do horrible, ugly things to keep this person safe– things that sometimes appear in his nightmares, things he doesn’t want to think about in the light of day.

“I know it’s…kind of a lot. And maybe worse because we’re not alone,” Daz tells him. He does sound apologetic, but is probably so for the wrong reasons.

“I told you he wouldn’t hate you,” Raine says, with a soft thump that indicates he lightly smacked his friend in some way. “Paranoid dumbass.”

Scoffing, Daz retorts, “Fuck you, you’re not the one who had to reveal you’re actually kind of a monster to the supernatural embodiment of sunshine and rainbows–”

Lee breaks from the hug to point at Daz, who seems surprised. “You’re not a monster.”

Daz blinks at him, seeming to consider something. Raine hisses, “Don’t you dare, save your weirder shit for another time!”

The Tommy snorts, and states, “Yeah, that’s probably better. But let’s say I disagree, and leave it at that.”

Eyes narrowing, Lee leans his weight across the table. He warns, “I’m going to fix you, so fucking help me.”

After a moment of surprise, Daz grins and leans forward as well. “Good luck, kid. My issues have issues. I’ve got a whole fucking magazine subscription kit in here.” “Good! Fine! If all of you think I’m so damn special, then I’ll make sure you’re getting your stupid money’s worth!”

Daz’s expression suddenly turns dark. “Don’t talk like that. You–”

Oh, wonderful job! Bravissimo; bravissimo! I was so fucking right to make you–

All of the Council members straighten up, but none become more severe than Daz. “Achilles, this is the Scribe.”

The unexpected, disembodied, and clearly powerful voice laughs, Hah, yeah, that’s definitely me, I'm the Scribe. They coo, Aww, you look so mad! And here I was, thinking you were up to snuff. 

Shoulders thrown back, Daz states calmly, “He is. In fact…” a slow smile spreads, like cracks across thin ice.

“In fact,” Daz repeats, “He’s so good, so worthy, that I think we should hold a vote.”

His eyes flick to the others. “All those in favor of making Lee an official member of the Council?”

Oh you clever little shit. I hate you so much right now, the Scribe says. Contrary to their words, though, they sound delighted.

The others nod their approval, and Daz’s smile grows. “And, Lee, do you accept this position?”

Clearly, there’s something more going on than is immediately obvious. This group, and especially Daz, are smart.

If they’re pushing for this, there’s a reason.

“Yeah,” he says, and can’t help but feel a little sting of pride when all of them perk up a little.

Daz claps his hands. “Excellent. With Lee’s induction into the Council, that makes this official business.” His hands spread wide, Daz laughs as he says, “Which means our audience needs to leave.”

[loveregrown]

Reimugi are so similar but so different because what dooms Rei is his high empathy & love for people as a whole, that burden of catering to everyone’s needs ending up being the cause of his downfall. Tsumugi doesn't have that, rather than catering to everyone's needs because he felt some sort of emotional responsibility, it was for himself. He wants to be useful because he has no worth otherwise. He was selfish in the way he hurt others even if he had no clue what he was in for at first, selfish in the way he had no self to begin with and yet throws himself away needs to devote himself to someone to stay alive (even to this day with his contract with Natsume), selfish in the way he asked Rei why didn't you do anything. Why didn't you do anything while I was driving that stake through your heart, why didn't you do anything as we made you carry that cross. Apologized to him and wished he could've known & felt how much he was suffering and willing to end his life in more than the mere theatrical sense the enstars world operated on, but Rei wouldn't have made it known anyway. If Tsumugi were in that position, he wouldn't have done anything either because of how discardable he thinks he is. Not because he sympathized with Eichi like Rei did, they never truly understood each other, but because he has no reason to be alive in the first place. If he knew his death would do something good for the world, he would've let himself be killed because that would at least give him some value while being at the bottom of the barrel, and Rei would've too but for different reasoning and that's captivating to me.

Tsumugi never treated him like an "other" despite his admiration and the fact he is by all accounts a genuine Rei fanboy by the time his 3rd year comes around, and Rei is the only one who treated him with a semblance of care, worried about him, told him he could stop only doing things for others if he tried. Obviously projected himself onto Tsumugi and looked out for him despite being a little amused by him, too, Tsumugi finding his interest in him so strange... They are so different at a first glance and their motivations are, too... but they're also one in the same in a way.

Tsumugi is so normal (not really but comparatively and regarding his lifestyle and upbringing and what not. He was allowed to be a child, even if he was a neglected and traumatized one) and Rei is a genius. He hasn't been "normal" from the moment he was born. But they come the closest to understanding each other out of anyone almost immediately because they suffer the same, even if Tsumugi isn't aware of that fact (thinks every tragedy in his life was no big deal, combined with the fact Rei hides the suicidal ideation he was experiencing. Suicidal ideation that made him think the exact thing he had judged Tsumugi for in element, to wish for the rope he was using to jump from the roof to break and for his remains to splatter against the ground without even being scared of the thought). I think Rei having too much empathy and Tsumugi having too little of it makes their death & rebirth at the end of the war so fascinating, because for Rei it's shedding old skin to take another role in the story, but for Tsumugi it's the first time he's actually felt what it's like to be alive and feel pain after being so used to being hurt that he became numb, perhaps he's always been numb to begin with. Anhedonia is all he knew unless he was serving a purpose, and he had to learn from somewhere (his childhood) that it's best to suppress any negativity you may have for the sake of a state of feigned happiness that's more akin to nothingness. Maybe he was trying hard to not be unstable like his mother, someone he fears becoming that isn't touched on enough aside from in Next Door, or in Altered, where he asks Rei if he's just like her now. That's what's so important about Rei being there to watch as he cried, to be the first able to congratulate him on this newfound sense of humanity no matter how skewed Tsumugi still may be, while not having one of his own—or at least, making it out to be like he doesn't, when really it's something that'll always live inside of him. It's something he's had to repress but fails. A heart too big for his body. Tsumugi's heart was too big, too, but rather than being full and beating it was hollow for all his life. Rei knows how similar they are because he's seen him as his younger self from the very moment he walked up and tried to defend him from people Tsumugi didn't see as a problem at all, even compares Tsumugi's homelife to his own. While what Rei wanted is to chase his dreams and be happy, what Tsumugi wants is to help someone else accomplish their dreams. Tsumugi relies on other's happiness to gain his own. Which is a very sweet and pure desire, until it's not, until it gets out of hand. I think about the fact he taught Tsumugi what having a friend means and is like despite not having any true friends himself at the time and it makes me insane, how he and Tsumugi were both surrounded by people and considered popular yet were so alone. Tsumugi had so many connections but none of them actually cared about him, and he didn't know whether they counted as friends either, just as clueless as Eichi was about it despite having a far more positive outlook regarding friendships and human connections... even now, Rei goes out of his way to care for him and make sure he takes breaks to the point of teaming up with Ritsu to do so (I have consistently posted about the significance of Tsumugi's relationship to the Sakuma brothers as a unit but that's not entirely relevant right now but urgh it burns it burns it's another subject I like so much. It's obvious that at least subconsciously, he's somewhat affected by his brother's absence and lack of love.) and then there's the entirety of burning azaleas, where Rei and Tsumugi were partners in crime, to the point Tsumugi found himself unthinkingly saying the little password they had after the fact, simply out of habit... but back to the past. If you think about it, Keito aside and you know how insane that thing is, Tsumugi is Rei's first actual true friend just as he was Tsumugi's.

It's funny how the person someone forced to be a "God" could most relate to was the one who saw himself as nothing but a speck of dust to be blown away, the most willing meat shield, a dog. At their core, when they met, they were both walking corpses. They aren't anymore, and they weren't who saved each other, per say, but they were there to watch each other change. Torturous of a punishment as it is for Tsumugi to still have him care for him... obviously feeling a little guilty for the pain he inflicted upon Rei even if it was in an unconventional way.

[chaotictarlos]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

Thank you both for the asks! I love this little game! It's always nice to have a reason to brag about my writing or shine some light on fics I wished people looked at more. In no particular order, here's a list of mine.

You took the best of my heart and left the rest in pieces - This is one of my favorite fics that I've written in this fandom. It's a character study and exploration of emotions through Carlos' POV of the breakup era. I enjoy writing the breakup era and writing the boys getting back together, and how each of them make their way back to the other. This is the first part in a series of what will be three fics. It can also be read on it's own. (I'm currently working on the TK POV one but real life has been busy lately)

I’ve always dreamed of me and you, now here we are - summary: It's a tale as old as time, meeting the right person but during the wrong time of life. TK Strand and Carlos Reyes dated in college but parted ways when they graduated, not knowing they would ever see each other again. Six years later, Carlos is working as a social worker in Travis County and TK has just accepted a position as a professor at The University of Texas at Austin. They run into each other when a mutual friend invited TK out for the evening. This is a fic that I've taken a pause on because of some truly nasty people who, instead of not reading, decided that they wanted to send hateful words my way. I want to get back into this fic, I have so many ideas for it and how I want them to eventually end up back together. I have the next chapter written and ready to post, I've just been anxious about it.

With love, your soulmate - summary: Carlos Reyes doesn’t think he has a soulmate. In the 22 years he had been alive he had never found anything that would tell him otherwise. At first, it bothered him that he was seemingly without anyone and that there wasn’t a perfect person out there for him but he learned to grow comfortable with that information. He learned to adapt, to date enough that he wouldn’t be lonely, and on the nights when he was without anyone he found ways to make himself feel good. He was content. Or so he thought so until a letter arrived on the day of his 22 birthday. A letter addressed to him, from the past and from his soulmate. From there, they start talking. Leaving letters for each other to find and read, falling in love through the words that they shared. Will TK ever catch up to Carlos so that they can have their happy ever after? Or will time remain cruel to them? **Soulmate AU based on the short film Brooklyn Love Stories - Long Time Distance Relationship with Ronen** This fic was such a labor of love because it was so hard at times to figure out timelines and to get it the way that I wanted it to go. In the end, it was so worth it and it's the first chapter fic I finished in this fandom. I also just love a good soulmate au.

Jingle those Balls - summary: Two families, one fake relationship. TK needs a fake date for his mother's Christmas Work Party. Enter Carlos. MY TARLOS HALLMARK FIC. I almost didn't write this but Cee encouraged me so much an dI am SO glad that I did. I ended up writing 20K words in two weeks and I just love how this turned out. It's silly, fun, a little angsty and smutty. Carlos is so sassy in it too. I had such a delight in writing it!

where do we go from here / how did we (i) get here? / And in your hands, is all of me - the parts I never let you have - I'm rec'ing all of these together because they truly need to be read together. These three fics kicked off my season 4 coda series and deals with the topic of Carlos being married to Iris. There's a fic from Carlo's POV, TK's POV, and then them together. I struggled a bit with the secret when it was revealed and this was a great way for me to work through it and I think I created some really good fics that deal with the topic.

Bonus +1

We can get a little crazy just for fun - My series of slutty Carlos fics. These are just fun, smutty fics that are inspired by Rafael's thirst posts and I always enjoy writing them. I think others would enjoy them as well.

[sydmarch]

(Prev 8 Arms anon) I'm sorry to hear you had such a less than pleasant time in the fandom :( I can relate, recently bit the bullet and left all the spidey n doc ock servers I was in. I won't let the internet spoil spider-man for me, as sonething I grew up with. Fully understandable you likely won't continue and I support you on it. I am admittedly curious on what your plans were for it, and wonder if it would be okay to maybe unofficially continue it, or something inspired off it?

thank you anon! i will say the VAST majority of my time spent in the doc ock fandom was great & overall it was one of the most fun fandoms i've been part of and i look back on my time there very fondly.

really it was just a few people who... i guess i can say we had irreconcilable differences of opinion for lack of a better way to put it while remaining vague.. became influential enough in the fandom& main server that i ended up feeling pushed out. really there was just one specific change to the server that was the final straw for me & i left the next day but i won't go more into detail on any of that in public posts LOL

so this ask had me open my google doc of this fic for the first time in ages to get my notes & i realized i had the first half of ch3 written but never posted so i've added that on ao3!

honestly i would be SOOO flattered if you wanted to continue the fic i'd be more than ok with that! can't believe people liked my silly little story that much! as for what i had planned for it i did have some super rough draft notes i'd written up for the remainder of the fic which i'll throw beneath the cut:

basically i had planned for the rest of chapter 3 to be the surgery itself - the actuators operate & otto eventually passes out of course. probably nothing TOO gory since my intention of this fic was to be mostly kink focused & angst at the beginning with a happy ending. so after the surgery he's kind of delirious from pain and in infection and the hospital employee he'd injured ends up finding him, having not been hurt seriously during the break in they followed him back & kind of hovered around a bit watching things unfold for a bit before revealing themselves like "that was a really stupid thing you did, you need antibiotics. no you ARE going to let me help you with this because otherwise you are going to die" & they get to know each other while the oc/reader stand in helps get him back to full health. & eventually he starts to work through some of his issues by having someone else to be close with etc etc. and then of course the feedism stuff too i'd put down a note that there should be a scene where the other character is like "so WHY were you doing something this dumb in the first place" & when otto's awkwardly explaining they get REALLY embarrassed hearing about it but not for the reasons otto thinks. classic feedism fic miscommunication moment yknow. oh & my notes also include a line i planned the other character to say at some point which i think kind of sums up the thesis for how i intend their relationship to end up & that's “you’ve been getting fat because you aren’t taking care of yourself. From now on i want you getting fat because im taking care of you”

[adwaitlakshay]

The most valuable ornament for a man is his character. A man without character is considered lower than an animal. Characterless people are the reason for all the sins and sorrows on earth. The strength, knowledge and energy of a person without character are used in useless and destructive works. That's why there is a great need for people of character to establish ultimate happiness and lasting peace in the world.

Character enhances the value of a man. A man of good character is respected everywhere. Wherever he goes, he establishes happiness and peace. Even today we take pride in remembering our ancestors. Have you ever thought that what was there in our forefathers that made them memorable even today? Although each great man has raised flags in different fields, some in the field of literature, some in the field of art and some in bravery, yet there is one quality which was common in all these great men. That wonderful quality is perfect character. Imagine any great man, imagine if he lacked character, would he be respected today?

The truth is that it is character that elevates a man. Otherwise, Ravana and Duryodhana were also courageous, but their name comes lower than even animals. You will easily find humans named after animals around you, Sher Singh, Gaj Singh etc. But the chances of you getting a person named Ravana or Duryodhana are almost nil. When we remember the great deeds of our forefathers, we get inspiration, feel proud and infuse positivity in life. The chest automatically expands, the shoulders lift, the spine straightens, and the arms flare up. But all this is fleeting. You read the struggle of Guru Govind Singh ji, Maharana Pratap ji, Dr. Bhimrao Ambedkar etc. today. Will be in enthusiasm for two days, on the third day again the same three leaves of dhak. But we have not learned to be disappointed. We will find a way to make this enthusiasm permanent and will try our best. The easiest way to make it permanent is to wear the ornament named character. Without good character, you will not be able to do much. No matter how sharp mind you are, no matter how smart you are, no matter how strong, rich and powerful you are, if you are characterless then you cannot protect yourself from disturbance, humiliation, sorrow and sin.

It is our ultimate duty to be virtuous because we are the ancestors of the future. Our present conduct and actions are the history of the future. The life of the rosary depends only on the order of the beads. If some pearls are taken out from anywhere, then it cannot be called a garland. Similarly, we are all pearls of the rosary of the world. If we cannot find a place in this rosary due to lack of character, then that rosary will not remain and there will be no way for future children to enter the rosary. By our today's conduct, we can make the path of life of future children easy and carefree, we can make the bushes full of thorns and dangerous. Can make fearless as well as dark and fearful.

If we do not adopt good character in our conduct, then it should be understood that we are breaking such a chain or garland, from which innumerable human beings could be benefited in future. It should also be understood that we have actually died, now only the body remains to be burnt. There is no relation between birth and death of a human being. Because there have been innumerable such men who have passed away after thousands of years or eras, but their names are inscribed on the memory card of the world as it is. There was a dialogue in a movie- "It is not necessary to be 100 years old to live 100 years, do such a thing in a day that people remember you for 100 years." It is not necessary to drink nectar, live this life in such a way that people remember it till the end of the universe.

On the other hand, there have been innumerable human beings whose names are not even remembered today. A person of character becomes immortal even after death, while a person without character destroys himself in such a way that his third or fourth generation forgets even his name. If a man wishes, by adopting good character and being virtuous, he can get the lesson of his glorious life inscribed in the world's memory magazine and can get a place in that great chain or rosary in which he is a great scholar, preacher, religious teacher, prophet, freedom fighter. Sangram keeps the soldiers etc. Every human being must do this because all religions and preachers have taught to have good character. By doing this, we can be helpful as a guide for the future children and can also make our present life glorious and valuable. Good character is a powerful weapon in the battle of life. No sorrow and sorrow of life can stand in front of this weapon. This weapon not only destroys the enemies in the battle of life but also generates physical, intellectual, mental and spiritual strength in the one who has it. His whole body becomes radiant. His statements are influential, and are considered authentic by the people. His resolutions are unbroken and firm. Struggles do not frighten him and pleasures do not fascinate him. He is always seen working with happiness and enthusiasm. He meditates deeply on right and wrong before every decision of his life and takes the decisions which are appropriate and gets involved in the work. Taking the right decision at the right time is the definition of good character in his eyes and on this definition he decides his decisions and duties. He does not hate criticism and does not love praise. He works hard and tirelessly in the fulfillment of his duties. In this way the character of his life is formed and this is called good character. Good character is a group of those small acts of a human being which are made up of truth, hard work, modesty, charity, charity, kindness, fearlessness, self-reliance, injustice resistance, duty performance, dependent protection, family behavior, social life, peace, love etc. Huh.

When a man imbibes a good character, then the subjectivity that dominates his soul vanishes. A person of character is a mine of virtues. For the attainment of a glorious life, first of all the purity of the character is as important as the fuel for kindling the fire.

[jrpneblog]

Pointless Preston

Nil pois for North End this week just when we needed them the most. A narrow home defeat to Norwich City last Saturday saw the play off flame almost extinguished befored it was completely drowned with a shocker of a performance a Southampton on Tuesday evening in front of the watching nation. Against the Canaries we had our chances earlier in the game but as time ebbed away it was the visitors who took the points with a goal by Sara four minutes from time. On Tuesday evening on the South Coast it was another embarrassment and humiliation as North End tamely surrendered to the Saints and the only reason the score remained at three was that the home side clearly took their foot off the gas in the second half otherwise God knows what score it might have been.

North End went into the game against Norwich City on the back of a really good 4-1 home win against Huddersfield the previous Tuesday but failed to find that goal scoring touch that was evident against the Terriers. When you dont put your chances away against a good footballing side like Norwich then you often pay the price in the end. To be fair there was not a great deal between the sides but the visitors were always playing the better football and looked much more confident on the ball. North Ends play was a little rushed at times and as the game wore on Ryan Lowe had four forwards on the field but no real strategy as to how to win the game. It has been a failing of Lowe`s for most of the season that if plan A doesn`t work then plan B is usually weak and ill thought out and so it proved to be in this encounter.

On Tuesday afternoon the North End faithful made their way to the South Coast for the second time in a month for the previously postponed game against Southampton. What they were served up was back to the bad old days of late Autumn as North End were three down in thirty three minutes and looked absolutely clueless on how to stop a Southampton Tsunami heading towards Woodman`s goal. I really felt the record league defeat of 0-7 was in danger at one point such was the Saints superiority against a North End side that looked like they had come from League Two. The fact that Lowe threw one or two under the bus after the game was really poor style in my opinion and did nothing to detract from the fact that the homework on the Saints prior to the game, plus the game plan, was woefully weak and gave no insight into what to expect.

Unfortunately the North End faithful will have to battle on for another three weekends as we travel to West London for a Saturday tea time game against QPR at Loftus Road. Another show like Tuesday evening and people will be baying for blood because this season looks like it could finish in a similar vein to last term when we picked up just one point from the final fifteen on offer. The manager needs to be acutely aware that the fans are not happy at all with the way seasons seem to fade out once all chance of the play offs is gone. North End must go to London determined to win the game against a side who desperately need points to avoid the drop into League One which would be disasterous for Rangers. A win would take North End to sixty six points and keep us on course for a top ten finish. A defeat would just sharpen the knives, which already appear to be out in some quarters.

And finally this week:- Huge congratulations to the U18s who won the EFL Youth Alliance Trophy at Fratton Park last Wednesday evening. It is a great reward for the work done behind the scene`s by the North End staff and a great honour for the lads and for the club to have our name on the trophy. Well played boys!

.

MATCH PREDICTION -

QUEENS PARK RANGERS (A) League - Score Draw

.

JR`s HIGH FIVES

Correct Score QPR 2 -2 PRESTON 16/1

A £5 Stake returns £85.00 on bet365

SEASONS STATS

Returns £101.00 Stake £185.00

Percentage profit+/-loss - 45.41%

Predictions 37 won 10 lost 27

[rebrandedstoryline]

Rebranded - 16.1 - Routine Resumed

We close up our previous art and start up something a little sweeter (as a reprieve before I hurt you all again).

A little over 1700 words. Enjoy :3

Ayala’s recovery went along rather smoothly. 

The first couple of days were the hardest. Her emotions remained in a bit of a haywire state. As a result, she had mood swings. She would go from calm to sad in the blink of an eye. 

This led to some issues with the animatronics. Thanks to Ayala’s fluctuating emotions, the warnings delivered by their sensors were short lived at best. An alarm would go off, and then they would not have the time to react before the woman was in need of assistance. This resulted in the animatronics temporarily shutting off their medical scanners for sake of their own sanity.

As the nights passed, Ayala’s nightmares continued, but they grew less severe. Or at least they triggered less of an emotional response. 

Her appetite thankfully returned, meaning that she resumed eating. Once she started eating again she quickly settled back into her routine. Her mood swings died down and her crying fits eventually stopped.

Sleeping became less of an issue and she resumed going to bed at a reasonable time. But now, she hated sleeping alone. Whenever it came time for bed, she brought something with her. Oftentimes, she picked a random stuffed animal to carry it to bed. But she rarely slept with it, because of Sun. 

Come bedtime, Sun would volunteer to lay down with her. She would not turn him down. 

As a result, the daytime attendant spent a lot of extra time keeping an eye on the woman at night. He did so happily.

Sun had always been happiest when he was taking care of someone. It was in his nature to nurture and to love. Even though he had been specifically designed to look after children, he was happy to look after Ayala. So he would contently tend to her for as long as she would allow.

Moon, for the most part, refrained from getting more involved than he already had been. He had no reason to get more involved. The problem was being sorted.

Ayala was cooperating. She was allowing Sun to look after her. She was eating and she was sleeping. As a result, she was recovering. That was all that mattered.

In the end, it didn’t take long for the dust to settle. The house fell back into a routine, though the routine was different. More so with Sun and Ayala than it was with Moon. Moon’s routine remained largely unchanged.

For the most part, the lunar animatronic would remain tucked away in the closet with Henry; the vacuum. When he emerged, he emerged with a purpose. That purpose generally fell into one of two categories. Work, or fuel. 

Work consisted of cleaning up around the house. Sweeping, mopping, dusting; really any sort of cleaning that needed to be done, he would do it. 

When he needed fuel, he would find something to eat. Most of the time, he ate trash. He would eat about anything that Ayala would have otherwise thrown away. Not because he enjoyed it, but because he considered it to be his job. He was disposing of waste and keeping the property clean. He was just prioritizing his duties over his personal comfort.

This did not mean that he wouldn’t consume the normal food. He would consume anything that Ayala or Sun made for him. He would just eat less of it. 

The real food was better off being used to keep them functioning. 

Sun’s general routine had changed the most. The biggest change, of course, had been his promotion to nighttime guardian. He spent virtually every night looking after Ayala. 

The next greatest change to his routine was the outdoors. More specifically, he had taken charge of the gardening and general yard maintenance. He would trim the bushes. He would pull any weeds or parasitic offshoots that sprouted from the plants. He raked leaves. He removed overripe or rotting fruit from around the plants. His research into the task had finally found its use. And now that he had actually started to do the gardening for real, he discovered that he was quite fond of it. 

So he maintained the property for Ayala, and he maintained it well. 

Or at least he maintained a portion of it well.

The property was rather large. Five acres, according to Ayala. And the size of the property could be easily increased, if she so chose. She could always purchase more land. Apparently it was a perk of living where they did. They were far away from the city, surrounded by difficult wooded terrain. Terrain that would require a lot of time and money to be made habitable.

As it were, she was content with the space that she had inherited. Both the home and the property were left to her when her parents passed away. A rare luxury in this modernized era. 

Still, Sun quite enjoyed working the land. He enjoyed being outside, where the sky was real and everything around him was so full of life. 

After having spent his existence locked away inside a building, it was no surprise that he adored the outdoors. The world was a marvel to behold. It was so, so different from anything that he had ever seen in picture books. The sky came in more colors than blue and black. The stars were not large jagged shapes floating in the sky. Everything was different. Everything was wonderful; even the brutality of nature was a wonderful thing to behold. 

Because everything he saw now was real. The stories were just stories, now. He could finally see for himself what it meant to be alive. And even though he found himself regularly scared or confused or even bothered by what he saw, he treasured his new reality all the same.

Outside of gardening, he continued to practice his cooking. Ayala had even started to give him pointers in the recent days. 

He learned that when it came to cooking, there was room to experiment. A recipe was not this finely tuned mechanism that required all things listed in order to be made real. Preparing a steak was not the same as repairing a machine. If some seasonings or spices were missing, then that was alright. What mattered was taking the ingredients at hand and using them to make something edible.

However, baking was a different story. Because baking was a science, and changing the formula could result in drastic changes. Not all of them were bad, but there would be changes nonetheless. So he would not be dipping his toes into the concept of unsupervised baking for the time being.

For now, his focus was on learning how to prepare proteins and potatoes. Pairing meat with a starch created a filling combo. He had already learned that potatoes were a very adaptable food that could be prepared in a variety of ways. So regardless of how long he focused on the meat and potato combination, he could make something different and exciting each time.

He quite liked being able to indulge in these new hobbies. He was glad that Ayala was with him. The people at Fazbear never would have encouraged him to learn how to do anything new. Not unless it directly tied into getting his work done. Not only did Ayala help him learn, she encouraged him. Whenever she could step away from her work, she was happy to teach.

Speaking of her work, the animatronics didn’t exactly know what her job was. They hadn’t gotten around to properly asking what she did for a living.

She worked from home, that much was clear. 

Logan also acted as more than just a friend and guardian. He shared in her work duties on some level.

There had been multiple chances to ask what exactly the two did for work. 

But there had also been more pressing distractions. Every time the thought popped into the animatronics; namely Sun’s; minds, something had come up.

All they really knew was that Ayala worked as some sort of a writer. 

Multiple hours a day, every day, she would just be writing something on her laptop. Sometimes she would stop to take a call. Sometimes she would stop whatever she was doing to call someone. The matter always seemed to pertain to whatever it was that she had been writing.

The animatronics just didn’t know what she wrote, specifically. 

The answer to the unasked question was eventually revealed one day, when Logan stopped by to return some items that he had borrowed from Ayala. Items that had been lent to him before the house was left temporarily abandoned. 

What he delivered was a cardboard box. Inside of that box were books. Children's books, to be exact. None that the animatronics had ever seen before. But they were very clearly books directed at children. The books were all in very good condition. A lot of them looked relatively new. Logan and Ayala must have been involved in their production on some level. Maybe Ayala was given a free copy as thanks for her efforts?

Skimming the titles of the books, they were all written by the same person. Someone by the name of ‘Bella LaBete’. Could they be one of Ayala’s colleagues, perhaps? Or maybe this person would technically be classified as her boss? With only the books as evidence, it was unclear. 

There were only a few books in the box. But their presence now piqued the interest of the animatronics. 

It had been a while since either of them had stopped to read a book.

Sun, being the only one out and about right now, was the one to go and ask the fun questions.

“Excuse me, Ayala?” Sun inquired, poking his head into the Livingroom. The woman was once again keeping herself busy with her work. She paused, turning her chair about to look at him.

“Yeah?” Ayala responded, gently swaying herself from side to side in her chair. Much like a child would. 

The action coaxed an amused chuckle out of the daytime attendant.

“Would it be alright if Moony and I read the books Logan brought over?” Sun inquired, carefully holding up one of the books as an example. The woman seemed to tilt her head to the side a bit. She stared at the book for a while, before she shrugged slightly.

“As long as you’re careful. Those are my Author’s Copies.” Ayala replied. She didn’t turn back around after responding to Sun’s question. Because on some level, she realized that the animatronic was going to have additional questions. And he did.

[otherworldsjt]

Death's Fury Chapter VIII: New Introduction

      Ahh, there's nothing like some well-needed self-cleaning. The bathroom here was practically a spa. The tub had jets that turned it into a jacuzzi, and it also contained sulfur sediments to help with relaxing. After soaking in the tub, I stepped into a class-cased shower that sensed my biometrics through the floor. The water immediately turned on to the perfect pressure and temperature for my skin. After washing, I simply needed to say "dry" for warm air to blow from vents in the floor and shower head. In just 30 seconds I was completely dry. My hair remained a little damp but that's fine.

      After that experience, I planned to talk to Mom and Dad about upgrading our shower system back home.

       When I looked in the long mirror over the sink, I stared at my grey streak of hair. Although it irked me at first, I think it was starting to suit me. It added character, so I decided I liked it. I just didn't need any more.

      After throwing on some clean clothes I stepped out of the bathroom. Then while walking through the bedroom, I sensed someone else had arrived.

      It must be the person Tymon wanted to introduce us to, I thought to myself.

      I tied my hair in a loose ponytail as I headed toward the room door. When I exited the room I saw Tymon, Trik, and the new person I sensed each standing in the living.

      When I looked at Trik I noticed he seemed a little tense. He must've found something in the house that bothered him and was trying to hold it in. How does a SAS have OCD, I don't know.

      As I approached them, I took a good look at Tymon's friend.

      I was amazed at how beautiful she was. Like Tymon, her beauty seemed inhuman. If not for the low energy I was sensing from her and Trik not jumping to tell me otherwise, I would assume she was a Primordial too.

      There wasn't a single flaw about her; she even smelled perfect. Her demeanor was a bit timid, but there was also something fierce about her like the wrong move would set her off. I liked her already.

      "Hi! You must be Tymon's friend. I'm Alissia," I said as I extended a hand to her.

      "Yeah, we've been friends for a couple of years now. I'm Za'Fia," she said as she shook my hand.

      Alissia noticed a ring on Za'Fia's hand glowing red. At a closer look, it had many tiny crystals embedded around the ring with one large diamond-shaped crystal in the middle.

      "Wow, those are pure rupture prisms!" I exclaimed. "That ring must've cost a fortune; you must be really rich."

      "My parents died in an accident a long time ago and I inherited a large trust fund," Za'Fia replied wistfully. "But I'm happy I could purchase the ring since it helped me become friends with Tymon. If I focus, the crystals ward off Tymon's curse."

      "I'm sorry about your parents," I said empathetically. I hope I hadn't reopened a wound.

      "You're fine. As I said, it was an accident, and it was a long time ago," she said.

      After an awkward moment of silence, Tymon spoke out.

      "Well, now that everyone's here let's get to it," Tymon said as he moved to the couch.

      Tymon and Za'Fia sat on the short end of the couch while I sat on the other piece. Trik decided to float next to me.

      We spent the next ten minutes explaining to Za'Fia how the "curse" they thought Tymon had was actually his spirit energy. Then I told her who The Primordials were and that they really exist, and it was my job to find them, which led to me revealing Tymon as a Primordial.

      "Are you sure you should be telling me all of this?" Za'Fia asked skeptically.

      "Since the secrets to spirit manipulation became common knowledge, Watchers don't stand out like they would have before, so we don't have any reason to remain a secret anymore. Don't get me wrong, we're not going around advertising it, but it's not how it used to be. Speaking of..."

      After that, I explained the rediscovery of Greed and Despair, my belief that they had something to do with the previous Death's death, and how I believed they needed to be put in line before they killed another Primordial. Trik stayed unnaturally quiet through everything but remained tense until the explanation ended.

      "So, Tymon's like the god of death?" Za'Fia asked for clarification.

      "We prefer to refer to them as Primordials, but in a sense, I guess so, yeah," I replied.

      "And the previous...Death Primordial, who was – as you say – a more experienced Supreme Primordial...was believed to have been killed by these Greed and Despair Primordials," Za'Fia restated. "Yet you expect Tymon, who doesn't know how to control his powers as a Primordial to stop them? From my understanding, they haven't done anything that threatens the Primordials or us humans since the previous Death Primordial was killed. Perhaps there's no reason for Tymon to risk his life fighting these other two Primordials."

      "We don't expect Tymon to confront them yet," I stated. "The plan is to take him to HQ tomorrow so that he can be trained and get a better feel for his abilities. Then we'll find another Primordial who's most likely already well established with their abilities to come along with us. We don't want it to come to a fight, but we don't know what Greed and Despair's agenda is. We want to make sure they understand the consequences of killing a Primordial in case they target another one. We also want to find out exactly how they managed to take down someone as powerful as Death, why'd they kill him, why'd they reveal themselves after so long, and why'd they start this Age of Conversion we're in. There's just too much unknown information for me to just ignore them. And my guts – along with the consideration of their titles – tell me nothing good will come from letting them go unchecked."

       "And there's also something else," Tymon interjected. "While I was learning to sense through my spirit energy, I felt someone more powerful than me watching us. That's why I asked if there were any other Primordials nearby earlier."

      There was a brief moment of silence.

      "So, Greed and Despair have been watching you," Trik said to Tymon. He seemed to be less tense now. "Perhaps they plan to target you again."

      I turned my attention back to Za'Fia.

      "As you can see, Tymon sitting back and doing nothing doesn't seem to be an option. I get that you're his friend and you're worried, but whether you want him to be or not, he's involved in these problems. You can't keep him from his responsibilities," I said to her.

      The room went still.

      Tymon nodded his head in agreement and said "She's right, Z. I don't think I'm going to be able to stay out of it even if I wanted to."

      Za'Fia didn't look at Tymon at all. Instead, her gaze went from the floor and locked on me.

      Trik had tensed again. If he had pores, he'd be drenched in sweat right now.

      "Lisa..." He spoke.

      Both Za'Fia and I stared at Trik.

      "What?" I asked.

      Trik stared at me, his eyes pleading. Wha– Oh! Was he telling me I was being rude to Tymon's friend? How had it gone from me making sure he doesn't tick off Tymon to him checking me?

      "Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to come off as rude if I did," I said apologetically.

      Za'Fia simply smiled.

      I started to feel mucky. Was it getting warmer?

      Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

[seijorhi]

Pretty Young Thing

A yandere Erasermic commission for an anon, I hope you like it bby!!

Aizawa Shouta x reader x Hizashi Yamada

TW non-con, breeding kink, pregnancy, surrogacy, pregnant sex, smut, age-gap, nsfw

“Don’t you think she’s a little young, ‘Zashi?”

“It’s up to you both how involved you are during the first stages and the overall pregnancy. Normally we suggest an initial meeting with the potential surrogate for all three of you to get a feel for one another and decide if you want to proceed with the arrangement, but should you wish, we can–”

“No,” he interrupts, sparing Hizashi a fleeting glance. “We want to meet her.”

Beneath the desk, his husband squeezes his hand. 

Hizashi quirks an eyebrow, pausing midway through fixing his hair in the mirror. “Whaddya mean, babe? She’s in her twenties ain’t she?”

He’s not wrong, but that’s not the issue. They picked you, they both picked you, but there’s this lingering unease that he can’t seem to shake. It’s not so much your age specifically, he knows that you’re only a few years younger than the majority of the other women whose profiles they’d seen – you’re old enough to understand what you’re getting yourself into and agree to it, at any rate – it’s just that he doesn’t quite understand why somebody your age would want to do this.

And there’s something different about you, it’s just a feeling of course – he hasn’t yet had a chance to confirm his suspicions, but he wants to meet you and decide for himself.

“We do have a number of potential surrogates with promising Quirks if you’re considering pursuing that option for your child,” the Doctor told them, smiling as they flipped through page after page of profiles.

Hisako, 35, Quirk: Sun-flare

Nozumi, 26, Quirk: Mimic

Koharu, 28, Quirk: Seismic Wave

Chiyoko, 33, Quirk: Golden Whip

Yuzuki, 32, Quirk: Silencer

There’s dozens of them – which is more than he expected. 

Aizawa knew coming in that this wasn’t normally the process, that this agency catered specifically to Heroes – was recommended by the Hero commission – but it still feels strange, just browsing through pages upon pages of potential candidates to carry their baby. 

Was he supposed to be feeling some kind of emotion looking at these profiles? The women were all healthy, each of them attractive, in their own ways (nothing but the very best, the Doctor had reassured them with a smile). This woman, whoever they picked, she’d be carrying their baby, yes, but that was the extent of it. She wasn’t going to be a part of their lives beyond that, so what did it matter if she was nice or liked to cook or play tennis?

There were stats, of course. Their education and IQ’s and little snippets of history, but they were all impressive, otherwise they wouldn’t have been included. Were they supposed to choose based on their Quirk? One that might compliment his or Zashi’s? Quirks were troublesome things to begin with, and–

“Wait-wait, Shou, hold up,” Hizashi’s voice cut through his musings, long fingers wrapping around his wrist midway through turning the page. “Go back one.”

He does as he’s told, flicking the page back.

Y/N, 23, Quirk: N/A.

A lone eyebrow lifts. Quirkless, huh? A blank slate.

But that’s not what caught Hizashi’s eye.

“She’s kinda cute, don’tcha think, baby?”

It feels weirdly like a first date, nervous jitters and all – though he’d like to believe he’s better at suppressing that now then back when he was a teenager. Aizawa hasn’t bothered to shave, but his hair’s tied back in a loose bun and he’s pulled out a suit for the occasion – he’s even wearing a tie for fuck’s sake. Beside him, Hizashi’s ditched his usual leather jacket and ripped jeans for, well, nicer jeans and a button up floral shirt.

And then there’s you. Standing in the doorway of the cafe glancing around like a little lost lamb, he recognises you instantly from the picture on your profile, but the moment your eyes meet his he’s struck with the realisation that the picture didn’t truly do you justice.

Because you do look young (at least compared to their thirty odd years) and it might just be the hesitant smile adorning your face as you start to make your way over, or the charming little summer dress falling to your mid-thigh, swishing hypnotically with every step, but Shouta feels something catch in his chest the more he stares. You really are… what was the word ‘Zashi had used? Cute?

Yeah. You were cute. 

The agency had offered to host this little meetup at their clinic, and while he hadn’t particularly cared one way or the other, Hizashi’d been insistent. He’d wanted this to feel ‘natural’. 

‘I don’t really wanna meet our potential baby mama for the first time in some boring, sterile office, d’you?”

He’d only bitten back a sigh at the time, shaking his head. It wouldn’t have been worth upsetting him by reminding him that the girl was technically a glorified incubator. He had every intention of being involved in this process, but this initial meeting was to establish two things. Firstly, that after meeting them, you still felt comfortable with carrying their baby, and secondly, he wanted to make absolutely certain that you weren’t trying to get anything out of this.

Oh, he knew you were getting paid, handsomely, he’s sure, but the thought that you, or any of the women the agency had fobbed their way might not all be in this for altruistic reasons had crossed his mind. 

You were just so young.

But he was more than happy to determine those two things in a ten minute meeting at the agency. 

Hizashi was not, and so here they are. 

Ten minutes in, and he finds himself glad of his husband’s insistence. Hands wrapped around your mug of coffee (you should enjoy it while you can) you chatter away with Hizashi, beaming and blushing, tripping over your own words in your nervousness. 

You’re about as dangerous as a kitten, and he allows himself to relax enough in his seat to enjoy watching the blonde charm you. 

“So why don’t ya tell us a little about yourself, songbird?”

“There’s really not all that much to tell,” you say with a sheepish laugh, but they listen as you talk anyway. It’s nothing the profile hadn’t already told them, nothing spectacular that would make you stand out in the crowd. 

And yet, an hour and a half later, you’re trying in vain to distract him and Hizashi both so that you can slip your card in with the bill to pay for lunch, and Shouta finds himself oddly amused.

There were other candidates – ones with impressive Quirks, smarter than you, more accomplished than you, older than you–

“Ya sure you don’t want a lift, sweetheart? It’s no trouble.”

You smile again, demure little thing, and shake your head. “Oh no, really it’s okay. It’s not far and… I like the walk. Thank you, though.”

– but none nearly so endearing, he thinks. 

And when they watch you disappear into the crowd, one final wave thrown over your shoulder, Hizashi’s fingers lace with his once more.

“So she’s our baby mama, huh?

He’s silent for a moment. “I suppose so.”

—

The agency recommended, at least in the initial stages before the implantation procedure took place, that any communication between the three of you should go through them. 

Hizashi had your number programmed into his phone before you’d even left the cafe, and he’s been texting you every day since – to the point where it wasn’t unusual for Shouta to come downstairs and find Mic chuckling to himself, fingers dancing across the keyboard on his phone as he replies to whatever message you’ve sent. 

Shouta, for his part, tends to message only to check in.

How are you feeling? Any side effects from the meds?

Your response comes a little slower than usual, and it’s almost an hour before finally he receives it.

Sorry they’re cracking down on us using our phones at work :( 

Everything’s good so far! The doc said i should be on track for our appointment next week!

… is it weird that I’m a little excited haha?

His brow furrows at that. You hadn’t mentioned a job – at least not to him, he’d have to ask Hizashi later whether you'd said anything to him. 

Why on earth were you still working? He’d seen the contracts, he knew exactly how much you were getting paid for this little venture, wasn’t that enough to support you?

He makes a brief mental note to make sure that whatever job you were working at, you stopped long before the baby was due. You might just be a surrogate, but he’d be damned if his baby was put in jeopardy because you were needlessly exerting yourself. 

Nevertheless, his expression softens somewhat as he reads the second part of your message. You were excited, hm? 

Well, that made three of you.

Both he and Hizashi’d been willing to come along to the clinic with you – he’d even submitted a formal leave request to take the day off from UA, but the Doctor had assured him that it wasn’t necessary.

“The procedure is quick and relatively painless. She’ll be home within a few hours, and so long as she remains off her feet and doesn’t undertake any strenuous activity, she will be perfectly fine.”

It hadn’t sat particularly well with Hizashi who’d spent the afternoon huffing and complaining about the clinic trying to kick them both out of the process. That much, he expected – he understood it to an extent; the agency catered specifically to Heroes, most of their clientele probably had busy schedules (which was true in their case as well). There wasn’t a need for them to be present at such a minor procedure, even if it did hopefully mark the beginnings of your pregnancy. 

What he hadn’t expected was the twinge of discontent he felt settle in his own stomach. The Doc might’ve preferred they stay out of this, but at the end of the day he really didn’t give a shit what she or the agency wanted.

So he messaged you.

Do you want us there with you?

He watches those three little dots bounce for almost a solid minute before finally your reply comes through.

No, it’s okay, you don’t have to come. The Doc said it wouldn’t take long and I don’t wanna be a burden for you guys

It’s not really an answer to his question, and he briefly wonders if Hizashi might be right about the agency interfering, but he’s not going to fight you on it. 

At least, that’s his plan until Principal Nezu pulls him aside at the end of a staff meeting and tells him that he’s found somebody to cover his classes tomorrow if he still wants the day off. 

“Ya gotta go, babe. One of us should be there for our ‘lil mama.”

He asks you what time your appointment is and there’s a surprisingly pleasant fluttering in his stomach when you walk through the clinic doors and catch sight of him sitting in the waiting room.

It’s a momentary surprise – you almost do a double take, but a smile lights your face and you ignore the receptionist in favour of racing towards him. 

“Shouta, I thought you weren’t coming!” Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing tightly.

He finds himself returning your hug – albeit somewhat stiffly – but he’s glad he made the decision to come. The Doctor wasn’t wrong, you’re only in with her for just under twenty minutes, and when you come out there’s a tremble in your legs, but you seem otherwise fine.

It goes without saying that he’s driving you home, though you try once again to beg him off.

Kitten, when are you gonna learn that so long as you’re carrying his and ‘Zashi’s child, they’re going to go out of their way to make things easier for you – whether you want them to or not.

Yet your quiet discomfort on the drive home doesn’t slip past his attention. Maybe it’s because he’s become accustomed to your nervous rambling, but there’s something odd about the way you’re sitting so quietly, fingers twisting in your lap as you stare out the window. He knows that if Hizashi was here, he’d be chatting your ear off, but he’s never been one to fill silence with unnecessary small talk.

Though he can’t exactly help the way his own mind drifts. Are you in pain? The Doc didn’t say anything about there being any pain, only that you should rest over the next few days, so it shouldn’t be that. Perhaps you’re just lost in your thoughts – it’s strange for them having a surrogate, he can only imagine what’s going through your own head now that it’s actually begun. He hopes that you aren’t having second thoughts, almost opens his mouth to ask before thinking better of it.

You’re entitled to your thoughts and feelings, whatever they may be, and if you wanted to talk to him about them, you would. 

It’s not until the scenery outside starts to change and the fancy sky-scrapers give way to dingy apartment blocks and dilapidated buildings, crammed in together too tightly that he realises that it’s not discomfort that’s written across your face, but embarrassment.

This was your neighbourhood?

Shouta recognises it, and really he should have picked up on it earlier when you’d given him the address – he’s spent more than a few nights patrolling the area. It’s a hotspot, not for the high-class, dangerous villains plastered across the news every night, but thieves and murderers. Petty thugs who prey on the weak, those addicted, with nowhere else to go… you live here?

Surely with the money you’re getting from the agency, and your job on top of that, you can afford a better neighbourhood.

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, watches as you all but shrink into your seat, and when you speak, your voice is little more than a whisper.

“You can just drop me off at the corner here.”

He pulls the car to a stop by the curb, and for a moment neither of you speak. He doesn’t know what to say, and judging from the way you’re nibbling on your bottom lip and glancing up at him, you don’t either. 

“I–”

“Thank you,” you cut him off with a tight smile. “For coming today, and for… this. I-I really do appreciate it.” 

The words aren’t quite sincere, but he only nods – noting the miniscule sigh that escapes your lips at the action. “Of course. Anytime you need us, just call, okay.” He waits for you to nod before continuing, “Do as the Doc said, rest.”

You all but scamper from the car after saying another goodbye, though Shouta waits until you’ve disappeared into the crumbling apartment block before driving off.

Maybe the inside is nicer, but he sincerely doubts it.

—

“You should’ve seen it, ‘Zashi.” The two of them are curled up on the love-seat, half empty containers of takeout littering the coffee table in front of them. “I just can’t figure out why she’d be living somewhere like that.” 

The blonde frowns. He’d been messaging you throughout the afternoon, so he knew that the appointment had gone fine. It wasn’t that he expected to come home and find the erasure Hero jumping for joy, but the subtle discontent on Shouta’s face had been enough to make him pause. 

“You’re worried about our ‘lil songbird?” he asks, pushing away just enough so that he could turn to study his face. 

The short nod says plenty. Of course he is – even if you weren’t potentially carrying his child, you’re young, beautiful and far too innocent for your own good. In places like that, you were easy pickings, and you don’t even have a Quirk to protect yourself. His job requires him to assess his students’ strengths, their failings and weaknesses and their progress. He doesn’t need to see you in action to know that you wouldn’t be able to hold your own in a fight. 

It bothers him. 

“She’s not safe there.”

Hizashi hums, but instead of settling back against his husband’s side, he straightens up further. “Well, why don’t we go take a look-see, huh handsome? Make sure our sweet thing’s pad’s all safe ‘n sound, put your mind at ease. Whaddya say?”

As he stares into those imploring green eyes, Shouta knows that he should say no. 

Concerned or not, there’s still a line, privacy that should be respected. He’s tired and this is the only night that they both have off this week. Your place is almost twenty minutes from theirs, and it’s already late – almost midnight. The list goes on, there are a thousand reasons that he should say no.

“Fine. Just for tonight.”

—

Two weeks later, the two Heroes receive a call from the agency; the blood test came back positive – you’re pregnant. 

In the blink of an eye, at least to Shouta, this becomes startlingly real. You’re pregnant. They’re going to have a baby. Boy, girl, it doesn’t matter… You’re pregnant, and as his husband ends the call and yanks him by his collar into a fierce kiss, he realises how important this is.

How important you are, just by the virtue of carrying their baby.

They invite you over for dinner to celebrate, and while he’s never been one to flaunt the comfortable lifestyle he and Hizashi have, he does find it strangely pleasing to watch you wonder wide eyed through their apartment. He’d be the first to admit it’s big – bigger than they’d ever probably need, though with the baby on the way maybe they’ll finally be able to make use of all that extra space.

Mic grabs you by the hand, eagerly dragging you towards the nursery he’s already begun setting up. “Once I heard the good news, I just couldn’t wait to get started! Our little rockstar’s gonna have the sweetest crib, don’tcha think? Ain’t it amazing?” 

He’s already started painting and there’s a wooden cot halfway assembled and the beginnings of a musical mobile pushed off to the side waiting for him to return to it. It’s hardly close to being finished, but you just grin, gazing at the mural he’s started on the walls. “It’s amazing,” you say.

“I knew ya’d like it!” he beams.

Shouta hangs back as Hizashi guides you through the rest of the apartment, chattering excitedly away. He likes seeing his husband happy, and somehow you manage to bring it out of him without even trying. It’s still early days but Shouta has to admit that already you’re more to him and Hizashi than he expected, or even anticipated. You fit well with them, seamlessly, as if you’d always been a part of their lives.

After dinner, they drive you home despite your protests, and Hizashi insists they walk you up to your apartment. You’re no doubt under the impression that they’re doing it to be gentlemanly, missing the shared looks between the two men as they pass the out of order elevator and tread down hallways with stained carpet and peeling wallpaper, ignoring the leering yellow eyes of your neighbour, peeking out from the crack in the doorway as they bid you goodnight, ‘Zashi squeezing you extra tight.

There’s an uncharacteristic hardness in his husband’s eyes as they both slip back into the car, “No way in hell are we lettin’ her stay here.”

On that at least, there’s no arguments from him.

—

Hizashi, unsurprisingly, is the one to bring it up.

The three of you are grabbing a bite to eat after your first ultrasound. This time, both of them had been insistent on being there, and he’s glad they were. Seeing that grainy image of their baby, hearing it’s heartbeat – strong and steady – had filled him with an emotion he’d never felt before.

It was happiness and excitement and wonder and awe all mixed up and wrapped into a gut punch that stole his breath away, and while Hizashi had burst into a loud fit of tears, burying his face in Shouta’s neck while reaching for your hand, he’d managed to keep his own at bay.

Mostly. 

Regardless, you have little choice but to indulge them when they drag you out to one of the blonde’s favourite restaurants – on the proviso that they had you home in time to get ready for work.

“Songbird, there’s something the two of us have been meanin’ to ask ya.”

You perk up a little, hastily swallowing down your mouthful of food so you can reply, “Oh?”

He wonders if you notice the way your hand already instinctively drifts to your stomach, your barely there baby bump. 

“Why’re ya livin’ in a place like that, sweetheart?” You freeze, the corners of your smile slipping, but Hizashi continues, “Ain’t the money from the agency enough? We know you’re working that other job as well… we just…”

Shouta can physically feel you tensing like a bunny caught in a trap, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to reach out, sliding a hand across the table as you pale, but you take it regardless. 

“Talk to us. Please,” he begs. “We just want to understand what’s going on. You have to realise that it’s not exactly a safe neighbourhood, and it’s not just you we have to worry about anymore.” Dark eyes flicker pointedly towards your stomach. 

It’s a dirty tactic, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the truth. Did you realise how much danger you were truly in? Not just from the common street thugs – though frankly he thinks it’s nothing short of a miracle that you’d managed to get this far unscathed – but any number of villains with a grudge against either one of them, or Heroes in general. If they found out a pretty, quirkless thing like you was carrying their baby, how long do you think it would take before they tracked you down and kicked through your door?

Your eyes flicker between the two of them, and you swallow shakily. “I-it’s…” you break off, taking a deep, steadying breath, “It’s all I can afford right now.”

“But, hun, what about–”

“I know,” you say. “The money for the surrogacy isn’t for me. It’s money I owe.”

Neither Hero speaks a word as you talk, telling them about your uncle, the man who raised you, how his business went under a few years back and you both lost almost everything.

Shouta isn’t surprised to find out that your uncle turned to loan sharks when the banks turned him away and threatened to take your house. Alarmed at the man’s blatant stupidity, yes, but not surprised. Your eyes start to water when you tell them about how he died a few months back – a hit and run –  and the visit you were paid only a week later, informing you that your uncle’s debts were now yours, and payment had better come through quick. 

Your hand’s trembling in his by the time you finish. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t have any options, I didn’t know how else to get the money, and they said that i-if I didn’t pay up, they-they’d–” a sob catches you unawares, and once again it’s Hizashi who’s out of his seat and at your side in a heartbeat, sliding into the booth beside you, pulling you into a one armed embrace. 

It’s his eyes that you meet, and Shouta understands. He doesn’t need you to explain what threats were made. You were scared, terrified probably, and you had every right to be. 

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you sniffle. “I’m sorry for lying to you.”

Really, he should be furious. Disappointed at the very least. 

“Move in with us,” he says instead, ignoring your sudden, startled intake of breath. “At least until the baby comes.”

He should be, but this works better.

—

It takes a little longer than he’d like to convince you, but the two of them wear you down and a few weeks later Shouta finds himself carting boxes of your things up into the spare room in their apartment.

Despite the fact that you’re pregnant with their baby, you’re terrified of being a burden to the two Heroes, but it’s because of the baby that you eventually relent.

They want to be close, involved. They want to know that you’re safe – and their apartment’s state of the art security system will make sure of that when they’re not home with you. They want to make sure that you’re not exerting yourself, that you’re eating the right things and not running yourself ragged at a job you don’t need, stressing yourself out needlessly and putting the baby at risk.

All of that’s true. 

It’s just not the entire reason. 

At first, he convinces himself that it’s for Hizashi, as well as his own peace of mind, but he’s starting to wonder if that’s the full truth of it. Because of course he wants to keep a close eye on the pregnancy – he knows that this can’t be easy on you. You have no family left, and if you have any friends then they’ve done an excellent job of keeping you at arm's length. 

You have nobody but them, and it does bring him some modicum of peace to know that you’re just down the hall if anything goes wrong. 

Hizashi adores having you there with them, having somebody else to cook for, somebody to come home to at the end of a long day. More than a few times, they’ve both returned from a night of patrolling to find you curled up on the couch, fast asleep with a blanket over your legs and a book slipping from your fingers, having tried, and failed, to wait up from them.

You tune into Mic’s radio show on the nights you can’t sleep, and on the odd mornings that you wake up before either of them, they come downstairs to find bacon sizzling away in the pan, a pot of coffee already brewing. There’s something oddly charming about the way you pout while you pour it for them, knowing you can’t have any yourself.

“You’re a special kind of masochist, ya know?” Hizashi teases, sidling up beside you to grab a cup.

You sigh dejectedly. “I must be,” you reply as he plants a kiss on your cheek and squeezes your side affectionately, but it’s impossible to miss the sparkle in your eyes. You’re happy here, with them. 

Shouta warns you from pushing yourself too much, but even he can notice the apartment’s tidier when they arrive home than when they left, the freshly baked goods sitting on the countertop that weren’t there yesterday.

“I just… I know I can’t pay you back for all of this, I just wanna make myself useful,” you tell him one night when he asks about it. “I still feel like I’m taking advantage of the both of you, staying here…”

“You’re carrying our baby, that’s enough,” he reminds you, his calm, steady voice brooking no disagreement. And yet, as dark eyes study your face, he can tell that it’s not enough for you, so he sighs, and in a quiet voice adds, “We like having you here.”

He likes having you there. Sitting at the dining room table, helping him grade papers, lounging around on their rare days off together – helping Mic set up the nursery, volunteering to go shopping with them for baby stuff. He’s lost count of how many pregnancy books you’ve bought, pouring over them with a fine tooth comb late at night – often falling asleep in the process, leaving him and Hizashi to carry you off to bed with a barely there kiss to your forehead.

You fit between them in a way he hadn’t quite expected. Not a burden, not an interloper, but as if there was always a place carved out for you with them, and it’s only now that they realise that there was something missing to begin with. 

It doesn’t quite click until he finds his thoughts drifting towards you at work, his fingers drumming along the top of his desk so he can stop himself from reaching for his phone. He’s not usually so distracted teaching, and as the hours drag he finds himself glancing towards the clock on the wall, counting down the hours, minutes, until the day is done and they can return home to you.

Shouta can’t pretend for much longer that there isn’t something oddly satisfying watching your belly grow and your breasts swell as your pregnancy goes on. You’re glowing, and soft and beautiful, and he could kid himself and say that it’s just the normal effects of pregnancy, but there’s some part of him that’s strangely proud when your shirt rides up and he catches a glimpse of your baby bump – knowing it’s his child you’re carrying. His and ‘Zashi’s and yours.

And oh, he wishes that it was only pride that burns through his veins at the sight of you, barefoot and pregnant, pottering around the apartment. Hizashi’s the one to hold back your hair and rub your back soothingly when your morning sickness hits, but it’s Shouta who takes care of you when you start complaining about aching muscles and joints.

He tells himself that it’s purely about comfort, namely yours, ignoring the way you flush and stutter when he drags you up the stairs and pushes you gently towards the bed, telling you to lie down on your side. 

It’s just a massage, yet the moment his fingers run along your soft skin and a breathy moan slips from parted lips, the very last vestiges of the facade he’d built up in his head crumble into dust. 

You’re perfection. Bared and beautiful beneath him, making the prettiest noises for him as he works away at your muscles, expertly releasing all of your tension. He’s glad that your eyes are shut and you’re lost to the bliss, you don’t notice the way his breath hitches and becomes rough and heavy, the way his cock twitches in his sweats, blood flowing south as you arc into his touch. 

Such a responsive little thing, aren’t you?

“You’re amazing,” you moan, and though you can’t see that either, Shouta smirks. “Please never stop.”

It’s a good thing he has restraint, because it’s taking absolutely all of his to stop himself from taking more. 

He wants all of you. 

Wants to tease and taste.

Take.

Wants to hear those pretty fucking moans take the shape of his name… Hizashi’s name.

And maybe he might have felt guilty for those perverse thoughts, for the way he wants to tear the rest of your clothes off and fuck you nice and proper, breed you–

If his husband hadn't been standing by the door, watching the two of you for the last ten minutes. Shouta doesn’t need to look to know that it’s not anger or jealousy burning in his gaze.

He knows that his husband’s far from disgusted, knows it from the way Hizashi grabs his wrist on his way back down the hallway, pulling him instead to their bedroom and shoving him back onto the mattress with a wicked grin.

There’s something positively feral in the blonde’s expression as he hovers over him, forcing Shouta back down with a hand splayed across his chest, the other reaching down to his sweats to free his aching, needy cock.

“You’ve been holding out on me, baby,” he sings.

—

They have time.

Your due date is still months away, and you’re comfortable, here with them. 

There’s no reason for you to consider leaving until the baby’s born, and Shouta is adamant about keeping it that way. Hizashi can huff and puff and moan all he likes, he knows that they have to take this thing with you slowly. He won’t risk spooking you and losing any chance they have.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t empathise with the blonde, what with all the affectionate hugs and touches you thoughtlessly bestow, the way you’ll plonk yourself down on the couch between them so they can feel when the baby’s kicking.

Hizashi’s gotten to the stage where he’ll drop to his knees to shower your stomach in kisses when he gets home of an evening before sweeping you up into a hug of your own, his face a mask of perfect innocence when he catches sight of his husband’s less than impressed expression over your shoulder. 

Having you here with them, this little temporary faux family dynamic the three of you have found yourselves in is easy, domestic and nice. It should be enough, but it’s not.

“It’ll be weird, going home after this,” you hum absentmindedly one night.

Preoccupied with the noodles you’re toying with in your bowl, you miss the sharp look shared between both men.

“Whaddya mean, sweetheart?”

If you notice the odd stiffness to the words, you pay it no mind, simply shrugging. “I mean once the baby’s born. I dunno, I think I’ve become too comfortable here freeloading off of the two of you…” you glance up, smiling a little. “Going back to work and finding a place on my own again, starting fresh, it’ll be different, that’s all. Not bad different,” you hasten to clarify at the blonde’s nearly stricken face, “just… different.”

“Well it’s not like we’re gonna be forcing ya out, hun! You’re always welcome to jam with us for as long as you want.”

You shake your head with a rueful little laugh, “We both know I can’t do that. You’ll have the baby to worry about and the last thing I want is to feel like some awkward interloper, always getting in the way – especially after everything you guys have done for me.”

Hizashi’s fingers dig into the meat of his thigh, tightening with every word out of your mouth.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not saying I’m never going to come around to hang out or anything, but once this baby comes I’m gonna have to figure out what I’m going to do with my life.” Your eyes meet his, wide and hopeful, and Shouta’s reminded once again of just how young you really are. “I can go anywhere, do anything. It’s kind of exciting, don't you think?”

It was a mistake, to think that you’d come around to them on your own. 

You were young and naive, still living out a rose tinted fantasy where the world was your oyster and all you needed to do was reach out and take it. And maybe he’s partially to blame for that, taking your problems and getting rid of them, making you feel safe and comfortable, not realising that that security didn’t extend outside of these four walls, outside of their protection.

They need you, but kitten did you ever stop to think that you need them, too? 

Shouta had made the mistake of forgetting how this all came to be – you hadn’t wanted a family, you were just trying to save your own skin. You still think that you can make it on your own, without them. 

He supposes he shouldn’t blame you for your misplaced idealism, it’s only natural after all. Some people just don’t know what’s best for them.

They need to be shown.

—

You don’t stir as your bedroom door swings open. 

Not as Hizashi pulls back your sheets, groaning softly at the sight of your swollen breasts and precious baby bump, stretching against the confines of your silk pajamas. “Ain’t she a fuckin’ dream, Shou?”

Not as the blonde busies himself in carefully sliding your sleep shorts down your legs, or even as Aizawa gathers up your wrists, pressing a kiss to each one, and binds them to the headboard with his capture weapon.

“Gentle, ‘Zashi,” he murmurs when the blonde crawls up on the bed beside you. “Nothing too rough.”

You wake as long fingers caress your cheek, tilting your face towards him so he can kiss you properly.

Shouta hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, but bathed under the soft glow of moonlight from your window, he watches your eyes flutter open, the momentary confusion that flashes across your face followed by realisation, horror, as you try to jerk back and cry out–

Only Hizashi doesn’t give you the opportunity, winding his hand through your tresses and anchoring you against him, forcing your lips open so that he can deepen the kiss and groaning appreciatively when a terrified whimper escapes you. 

You still haven’t noticed Shouta kneeling on the bed between your legs, too preoccupied by Hizashi’s tongue sliding against yours. “Relax, kitten,” he says, laying his palm on your thigh, letting his thumb glide over the smooth skin.

“Let us take care of our cute ‘lil baby mama, yeah songbird?” Hizashi adds, breaking away from the kiss with a lovesick grin.

Tonight is solely about you. Your pleasure, whether they have to tease it from you willingly or not.

Your tears are kissed away, your broken little pleas swallowed under ‘Zashi’s greedy lips as Shouta shuffles down the bed, nudging your thighs further apart so he can lie between them.

The keening cry that leaves you at the first stroke of his tongue against your warm sex is a thing of beauty.

Blood rushes to his cock as you writhe, and he tightens his grip as much as he dares to keep you locked in place as he delves in again. There’s little finesse to the way that Shouta eats your pussy – it’s a simple study of reactions; the way you gasp and shudder when the tip of his tongue circles your clit, the way your pussy clench and quiver around the muscle when he eases it inside of you, massaging your spongy walls.

Never one to be left out, Hizashi decides that there’s a better use of his attention than just your lips. With your arms bound, he’s not able to take your top off entirely so he settles with yanking it down, freeing your breasts.

“Fuck baby, you’re so pretty. Look atcha!”

Your tits must be tender and aching, because the moment Hizashi’s mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking at the pert nub, a fresh sob bursts from your lungs and you’re trying desperately to wriggle away.

Hizashi just frowns, breaking away for a second to brush a stray lock of hair back behind your ear, “Ah shit, sorry babe! I’ll be gentle, promise.”

Shouta’s far too preoccupied by the intoxicating taste of your sweet cunt to notice whether he actually does or not, but he trusts him not to push you too far. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

Your baby bump is cute and all, but Shouta wishes that it wasn’t blocking his view of your face – he wants to watch every little expression as he slides two thick fingers into your dripping cunt and your hips buck up to meet him. It’s a twisted kind of pride he feels, pride fused with filthy, maddening pleasure as he pulls a string of choked moans from you with just a few shallow thrusts of his fingers.

His jaw’s slicked with your juices, your cunt sucking his fingers deeper when he turns his attention back to your poor, neglected clit. He can tell that you’re close, not just from the needy whimpers and the way your muscles are tensing beneath him, but the desperate canting of your hips, rocking up against his face even as you beg for relief.

“Shouta, Shouta, please– oh god, please stop, p-please!”

He longs to wrap a fist around his throbbing cock, desperate to help relieve the burning ache deep in his gut as you cum for the first time on his tongue. Or better yet, maybe have Hizashi wrap that perfect mouth of his around his cock and suck him off–

But now’s not the time for him to be greedy. 

Rough fingertips prod at your walls, searching for that hidden little spot that’s gonna make you go wild–

You almost convulse when he finds it, and Shouta can’t help but smirk against your cunt as you tighten and quiver around his digits. With Hizashi playing with your tits, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along your neck, Shouta’s lips wrapped around your clit, tongue flicking at the sensitive pearl as he suckles on it and long, thick fingers driving you to madness with each and every stroke, it’s too much for your poor, pregnant, oversensitive body to handle.

You cum with a strangled shriek, and Shouta almost moans at the flood of juices that gush from your trembling cunt onto his waiting tongue. 

“How’s she taste, baby?” Hizashi asks, green eyes blown wide, his own erection straining against his leather pants. 

Shouta doesn’t waste a beat, pushing himself up with one arm and grabbing his husband’s wrist with the other, yanking him into a fierce kiss – letting him taste your honeyed juices on his tongue.

Fingers tangle in dark locks, tugging him closer, and ‘Zashi lets out a low, throaty groan. It’s rough and eager, a slow burning frenzy that makes the blood in his veins sing with excitement. With their lips still locked, the blonde hastily yanks at the zipper on his pants, freeing the painfully hard member with a tight hiss. 

But when he finally does break for air, it’s not Shouta that he addresses, but you, lying spent, crying and breathless between them, beautiful in your fucked out state.

“You can’t expect to put on a show like that and not get me all worked up, sweet thing,” he coos, taking his flushed, throbbing cock in hand and giving it a few slow, cursory pumps. “I’m gonna fuck ya so good, baby – have you singin’ like a little birdie for me,” his eyes meet Shouta’s, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “Nothin’ but the best for our cute ‘lil wife. Whaddya say, songbird? Lemme make you feel all nice and special, yeah?”

[conduitandconjurer]

what is the saddest klaus moment in your opinion?

Let’s begin with this image, and contemplate WHY Klaus is SO happy (no, it’s not just because he feels safe and invincible, it’s deeper): 

He thinks he’s onto something about himself. Keep reading. 

I don't think I can narrow it down to a single moment so much as all the moments that demonstrate a single concept:

What I still find so sad about Klaus is that he is still so desperately yearning for praise and validation from a loved one, even by the end of Season 3, that he will stay in, or even actively seek to regain, relationships with family that have proven to hurt him, and even traumatize him, deeply. (Since someone asked me this, this desperation for praise and validation, for a reassurance that he has a reason to even exist at all, is also, btw, why he's desperate to seek out his birthmother, but we'll get to that in another post). He needs to know he's more than the "lookout." He needs proof that all he has to look forward to is not further partings, losses, "goodbyes":

Klaus seeks out an alternate timeline Reginald because, despite his highly accurate, contemptuous dismissals of Reginald in Season 1 ( "he hated kids too but sure had a lot of us," "I bet you're really enjoying this [of watching Luther and Diego come to blows at Reginald's funeral], "we were just kids," etc), Reginald still symbolizes, embodies, Klaus's first (remembered) caretaker, and the many disciplines of developmental psychology tell us that you form your schema about how the world works (socially, psychologically, culturally, etc), about how attachments between two people work, about where and how you measure self-worth, from your first caretaker (usually a parent). With Reginald's inevitably abusive actions, Klaus is therefore still willing to put up with what he KNOWS will hurt him, and he goes from this, announcing his reason for seeking Reginald's counsel:

to this, where he is being painfully killed and resuscitated over and over, but that desperate for a sense of purpose and worth that he is HAPPY about what it might gain him:

and finally, after that same person who is his source of validation abandons him the moment his usefulness becomes an inconvenience ( "You're just more trouble than you're worth," ), to this ( image by @i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky: )

Please pause to contemplate the tragedy of that statement. Klaus believes that he is a "loser and a freak, making mistake after mistake," not because of all the bad things that were done to him by others, but because something INHERENT to him DOES NOT BELONG IN THE WORLD OF THE LIVING AT ALL. He BELIEVES that! As of the final episode in the season!

And he only snaps out of it (and, I believe, only partially) because he wants to help his family.

This is also why Klaus seeks out Sparrow!Ben when he knows that logically, he is an entirely different being than the guy Klaus grew up with, the guy that lampreyed onto the Klaus-shark and, in desperation, took advantage of Klaus's powers to stick around their family indefinitely after dying (I don't blame Ben for this, but it surely did nothing to contradict that Klaus is only good for things involving his death-powers, more on that in a second). But, even though Klaus and Ben became virulently codependent by Season 2, with terrible mutual mistreatment, Klaus still sought Ben out AGAIN because even toxic codependency is a better buffer to total solitude and perceived uselessness than being completely alone. And, of course, Klaus always felt that being an open channel to the beloved dead brother would be his trump card to remain useful enough for the family to keep Klaus around. Ben was, is, Klaus's security, his "at least I can do THIS right," when he believes that otherwise he will disappear unnoticed.

I know no one wants to hear this because Klave is such a popular ship, but it’s also why Klaus kept trying to come back to save Dave from his own future in S2.  Even when Dave was closeted and dealing with internalized homophobia, even when Dave rejected him twice and it ended up getting Dave enlisted sooner. Because Dave was the first person outside of Klaus’s family to give Klaus evidence that he was “worth the trouble.” 

Finally, I fully believe this is the only reason why Klaus ran off with Luther at the end of Season 3, instead of one of his historically closer siblings, like Diego or Five. Luther--albeit in ways I find problematic--was the ONLY sibling throughout the entire Kugelblitz to give Klaus that earnest praise: "You're the King of Death, brother, and I believe in you." He’s not the only sibling to be NICE to Klaus--Diego and Five both were, too--but he IS the only one to offer words of affirmation.  Did Luther also behave not-so-well to Klaus during that same scenario? Yes. Did Klaus forgive it and stumble over himself to go after Luther? Also yes.

See the self-destructive pattern? And the tragic irony that Klaus keeps doing the same thing SEEKING TO HEAL?

-------

It has been said that Klaus has an "addictive personality," and that when he can't get addicted to a substance, he switches to ideas and people instead. That is certainly true, but I think his "addiction" to Reginald and Ben is also proof of an underlying need to be valued for something that is intrinsically KLAUS, and no one else.  

It is not so much that Klaus can’t help getting addicted to things (that is also, to an extent, true), so much as that Klaus is simply human, and starved for acceptance. 

What's saddest of all is Klaus is WAY MORE than Death. He's the DOORWAY between the living and dead, the unusually permeable osmotic barrier of spirits. I can’t remember who, but someone recently had a BRILLIANT observation here on Tumblr that every time Klaus spends a little longer in the Void after dying, he brings a little more color (LIFE) to what was black and white. His powers go BOTH WAYS. 

And he still doesn't realize that (even after impaling himself on the buffalo horn to escape the Kugelblitz) because even the rare times he's valued for who he is and what he can do, everyone is focused on "you're Death and dying and ghosts!" Same deal with the scene in the graveyard where he nuked all those ghosts to please Reginald. Right now Klaus's self-esteem is a cycle of trauma because his trauma was BORN in his powers (thanks again Reginald!) so any time he uses them solely to deal with ghosts and death, it just cycles back to the source of his substance abuse, PTSD, self-thwarting habits, people pleasing passivity, etc etc. Klaus needs to learn he is MORE THAN WHAT HE CAN DO FOR OTHERS, MORE THAN DEATH.

And while I HATE the "oh noes we lost our powers" trope in any storyline, MAYBE, just MAYBE, Klaus will be allowed to learn what more he is and can be when he has no choice but to put ghosts and immortality on hold.