#precious orphaned siblings ...

[the-pigeon-queen]

Obsessed with your ghost takes. Give me more headcanons I beg. I’m on my knees. Let us see but a fraction of the beauty in your mind.

Truly I am honored and I'm happy to provide :]

Sorry for the delay, I had to cook these up

Again, per usual, these are just personal head cannons :0 And I got 10 for each papa and for ghouls!

Copia:

Grew up doing acrobatics and ballet to be more like his Auntie, Marika. He chose to focus on ballet pretty early on.

Referred to Markia as Auntie but Mr. Psaltarian as Mr. Psaltarian.

Has a complicated relationship with his emotionally distant father figure, Mr. Psaltarian, but an even more complicated one with his actual father, Nihil

Marika babied him - grew up a little spoiled

The 666 mark on his chest is a birthmark lol not a tattoo

Has a lot of mobile games on his phone, and he has used the company card to make microtransactions for them

Picked up boxing because he was a little insecure about his arms and to stay 'fit' as he says

Executive dysfunction - eventually the stress of doing a task trumps his procrastination. When he does work, he does it well - he did get 2nd best employee of the month, after all

Prefers sci-fi to fantasy, with Star Wars being his favorite. He has models of all the different space ships in Star Wars. And a lightsaber (canonically)

Has pet rats (this is cannon to me across all AU's, I can't help it)

Perpetua:

Raised as an orphan in the catholic church after being kidnapped as a baby (will it be cannon? 👀 we'll see)

They were convinced he was possessed by the devil, and they performed multiple exorcisms on him there. Each one was traumatic, for obvious reasons.

One common punishment was having his knuckles/hands smacked - that's why he wears gloves/metal gauntlets, it makes him feel safer.

The mask, too, is worn because its comforting to hide behind it. He only takes it off when he has to.

He's trans. He goes by he/him but still doesn't confirm to any gender roles, especially not when it comes to fashion. He wears anything he wants. This includes the claws.

Whereas Copia has issues maintaining eye contact, Perpetua is the opposite. He stares. A lot. It is unnerving after a while.

His natural smile just happens to be very toothy and very wide.

Genuinely desires familial connections, and desperately wants to meet and befriend his twin, who he looks up to.

Has not confronted how he feels about the Ministry only seeking him out when he was needed for something. Right now, he's just happy to be wanted.

Has a pet bat :) no, it doesn't have rabies. Probably.

Primo:

Hates Nihil the most out of any of the siblings. He really brings a 'kill your dad' energy to the function (or a kill your older brother energy, take your pick)

Collects ancient occult or 'cursed' books. He has a copy of the Necronomicon. One of his most precious treasures is a copy of the Codex Gigas. He is currently hunting down a copy of the 'King and Yellow' because it's not a cognito hazard, people just don't get it like he does.

His mother was a witch - it's where he picked up a flair for gardening and tea. And bones. And magic.

He's an alchemist. Self-taught, and good at it.

Definitely had a homunculus at some point

Made a deal with an undisclosed demonic entity to keep his hair into his advanced age (I just like long hair Primo,,,)

Also hates the executives that run the Ministry. He has a strict idea of how the cult should be run and is endlessly frustrated that he doesn't have more say in its activities.

The executives in the Ministry fear him - no one knows what is keeping him in line, because it's obvious he would and probably could unleash some real harm to them.

Loves Secondo and Terzo dearly. He cared for them as if they were his own children when they were younger and loves them still. Game night started at his request.

As soon as he met Copia and Perpetua, he knew they were related, and he does his best to make the two feel welcome.

For more Primo headcanons, check out a previous post: {Unhinged Primo}

Secondo:

Can and does make pasta from scratch. He bought an extruder and everything.

He's actually a good cook - the only one in the family

People think he's a big, scary dog guy, when he's actually a purse dog guy. (I was making a comic about this but) He adopted a small, fluffy dog, and it wears a spiked collar and a pink bow. He walks it with one of those big, fake chains. Her name is Psycho Killer and he's training her to attack Terzo's ankles.

He recognized the Ministry suffered from same corruption he criticized in the catholic church - but is unable to do anything about it.

Only grew bitter when he realized how powerless he actually was within the Clergy.

He partied so hard as Papa as a way to sort of get back at the Clergy - but it was also a coping mechanism.

Considers himself a fine connoisseur of whiskey, and he is. He's got fancy tasting glasses and everything.

Same with cigars.

He also enjoys a good cocktail, too, though, and can mix a good drink. He's a good bartender.

Actually pretty good at pool/Billiards and darts. He's terrible at UNO, though - absolutely terrible.

Terzo:

Actually an introvert.

After parties, he has to have quiet alone time (this alone time can include Omega)

Enjoys reading - everything from dense books about ethics to trashy romance novels.

Absolute cinephile. He will host viewings of historic/rare/obscure films, and he will provide a slideshow presentation before the viewing. There is a mandatory discussion after.

He's a very talented visual artist - prefers black and white charcoal and graphite work.

Genuinely wanted to take over the world with the Clergy and turn it into his idea of a utopia. Unfortunately, the Clergy didn't like his vision, didn't like how comfortable he was getting with them, and didn't like how ambitious he was.

Once removed from Papacy, he realized how powerless he actually was within the Clergy, and grew even more reclusive, for a time.

Was insecure about his height when he was younger, but came to accept it, and is now perfectly fine with being a "short king."

Thoroughly enjoys messing with Secondo. The two bicker and tease each other all the time.

Keeps in contact with his Polish mother :)

Ghouls:

A ghoul's mask is a physical representation of their contract, but it also helps them maintain a humanoid form.

They can remove the mask, but only for brief periods of time.

If they remove their mask for too long, their magic will begin to destabilize, and they will inevitably revert back into a feral, demonic monster.

They do not have to eat or sleep, nor do they reproduce sexually

However, their physical bodies are 'equipped' to experience all the pleasures of the mortal realm (food, sleep, pleasure) It's a perk of the job.

The physical upkeep of their corporeal forms is dependent on emotional/mental state (can only be injured when emotionally compromised, only show scars if there are negative memories associated with it, ect.)

Musical ability is directly linked to their magic, so it's linked to their element, so it's linked to their emotional state.

This incentivizes the ministry to keep them happy.

They are forbidden from sharing any knowledge of heaven/hell/life after death with humans.

Unlike demons, they don't have true 'names.' It's up to the summoner to give them one.

[cimoris]

- ⚜︎ Climax of This Story ⚜︎ -

A Cookie Run Kingdom Reader Insert Fanfiction

==============================================

Relationship: Reader & Parent!Shadow Milk Cookie, Reader & Parent!Pure Vanilla Cookie

Summary: Jam runs thicker than water. But they splatter the same anyway.

Series/AU: Chasing Home << Prev -- Next >>

[Masterlist]

==============================================

Y/n is an ungrateful brat. 

That much, she knows. Then again, she is also her father’s precious daughter. 

And Pure Vanilla should have known better to trust her when they first met. Should had tossed the street urchin he picked up when she admitted her lineage. Should had not have left her alone when he went to fight Dark Enchantress Cookie and forgot his identity as a Souljam bearer. Should had forgotten about the orphan he took in under his wings after regaining his memory. 

But no, he did not. 

He remembered her. He sought her out. He mourned for her. 

He decided to make things more complicated, both for y/n and himself. 

Pure Vanilla Cookie spotted her amid thousands of cookies. Called out her name desperately in that achingly loving way. And grabbed her, hugged her, and wept for his precious little lamb that he thought had lost. 

Took her in again. Placed her close to his side. Brought her back to his floating castle and his adventures. And…

Makes this so much more complicated for y/n. 

Y/n closes her eyes, rubbing them harshly as she stands in front of the Silver Tree. 

Vaguely, she can hear Pure Vanilla Cookie and White Lily Cookie fighting along with their newfound friends against the illusions of her siblings. Black Sapphire Cookie and Candy Apple Cookie played their part well in distracting the army to the far end of the forest. Illusions and plays that once were used to entertain are now their weapon in this small battle. 

They set the stage for her to shine. 

The climax of the story, the spotlight, is all for her. 

Y/n bit her lips and summoned her staff–the fact that it was a gift from Pure Vanilla Cookie only twisted her guts even more. She raised it above her, syphoning magic from her beings and surrounding herself with sweet spells. 

“I’m sorry, Pure Vanilla Cookie…:”

But my father comes first.

Y/n slams her staff into the root of the tree, blinding her and the world around her with holy light. 

And it hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, for some reason. It was not supposed to hurt. Why does it hurt? She hate it, she hate it, she just want her father to comfort her damn it. Whatever, Black Sapphire and Candy Apple can carry her, and her father can heal her later on–

Then, there is a resounding crack in the air. Followed by a larger one, and by another, and another. 

And then, she sees him. Peeking his head out with a crazed smile that y/n missed so, so much. Her father, former Fount of Knowledge, Shadow Milk Cookie. 

He is free. 

“AHHHH!!!! Doesn’t this fresh air just feel… DIVINE!!!”

“What have you done…” Y/n hears Pure Vanilla Cookies’ whisper from the midst of panic, yet does not dare to turn to him. Y/n can already hear the horror in his voice, and she doubts she can handle facing his betrayed look. 

It is alright. It is okay. Because Shadow Milk Cookie is here. He will take her and Black Sapphire, and Candy Apple home to their Spire. Spreading chaos and lies again–

Something is dribbling on her shirt. She raises her trembling hand to wipe it off and sees blue–

…

Jam?

“Oh, I see I have quite an audience here–” 

She slowly looked up at her father's wispy form. The maniacal grin wiped clean and mismatched eyes shrink into tiny pinpricks, focusing on her tinier form. She tries to speak up to him–perhaps he is too shocked to see his daughter being the one to free him–but instead her jam blocks her airway. 

A glint of silver caught the edge of her vision, and that is strange since she had never worn anything silver. It had always been gold. Pure Vanilla Cookie only gave her gold.

Y/n dares to look down her torso. 

And she sees the silver spoon piercing through her. 

.

.

.

“Oh…”

.

.

That explains the pain.

.

The world tilts, and she sees Shadow Milk reaching his hand toward her. It feels cold when she phases through his form, before a warm body breaks her fall. She grimaces at the collision, feeling the knife burrowing itself deeper into her chest.

Black tufts of hair… must have been Black Sapphire Cookie. Oh, she sees his staff on the corner, albeit a bit blurry. So it is her brother. 

Where is Candy Apple Cookie? Y/n could barely see her–

Oh. She is right there. Nice to know.

…

Oh, wait, here comes Pure Vanilla. And White Lily. Oh, also Gingerbrave, and Wizard Cookie, and Strawberry…

She wants to say something to them…

…

Right.

…

“So… rry.”

She feels tendrils covering her body, pulling her away from the world and closer to her family. 

Then, everything went dark.

<< Prev -- Next >>

A/n: This is the alternate for the two comics that I posted the other day. Hope you all enjoy them!

[ladyrosemone]

My favorite

We've got all the ingredients, except you needing me - Cake, Melanie Martinez

I'm using Google Translate here! 🗣‼️‼️ Please excuse any spelling mistakes or inconsistencies, I swear I'm studying to improve my written English 😭 This idea came to me thanks to @kiwisandpearls, I loved your take on the abandoned Waynes haha! I'll definitely be making more at some point.

The Waynes, the most powerful and influential family in Gotham City, the diamond that gives it an artificial shine, replacing the forgetful Sun, which never seems to illuminate those lands of darkness.

What makes the Waynes different from other Gotham millionaires is not their humility, nor their sense of duty to their employees and followers, much less their reckless extravagance when it comes to spreading their (according to gossip) infinite wealth.

No, none of that, it's something more private, more intimate.

Love.

At first no one believed that, because come on, Bruce Wayne? The greatest playboy known throughout the world, with adopted children as if they were precious jewels every season, conceited and proud, a philanthropic genius of unfair beauty? In love? Pure gossip that entertained for a while, but was never more than that, gossip for the elite and showbiz for the lower class.

Until a newspaper (one that does not usually produce so many fallacies), revealed its newest scandal.

"Bruce Wayne Spotted With Young Beauty! Has Gotham's Biggest Mogul Finally Settled Down?"

If that wasn't enough, they were right, because the next launch came with Olympic magnitudes!

"Bruce Wayne's Child Finally Revealed! Gives Exclusive Interview About Him Sudden Return"

And how do we get to this?

When a man loves a woman...oh no, that's not how it started.

It was a woman from his youth, one who left when the next day and returned when Batman appeared in Gotham City.

You arrived as a ten-year-old child; small and confused, scared and insecure, longing for you deceased mother and the life you left behind with her. Bruce didn't know how to relate to you at first, and having an angry, newly orphaned child didn't make him any better, but he tried, he really did.

And little by little it worked...only in one child.

You could never get over the loss of your mother, she was your whole world and now you were with this...man who claims to be your father, a father you never had and out of nowhere he gives you things and takes you to his work to meet more boring old men. To make matters worse, that child he adopted out of charity is irritating, one day bothering you for being "spoiled" and the next wanting to spend a sibling afternoon with you.

But you don't have brothers.

You didn't have them when Jason arrived (although you cried for him), you didn't have them when Tim arrived and definitely not when Damian arrived and his arrogant attitude of the legitimate son wanting to hang out with only you. It's frustrating! Every second of the day is a request from someone to go out, to eat together, to...For anything to keep them attached like fleas!

You remember one of Richard's last attempts, before he left Gotham for an exchange, or for you a chance to get away from that family;

You were in the kitchen, eating breakfast that she had prepared herself because it makes you uncomfortable to have an older man serving you, when Richard appears with his hundred-dollar smile and a lot of irritating energy.

"Hello hello!" He greets you with his usual energy "How did my favorite person wake up?"

It's too early for this you think tiredly, taking a sip of coffee.

Your lack of response doesn't discourage him, it motivates him more for some strange reason "I have wonderful news, I got a vacation from work! And guess where we're going?"

"We're going?" Bored questions, annoyed by the new plan that you were not consulted about, again.

"That's the spirit! Let's go to Disneyland!"

"..." you look at him with dead eyes, and with all your heart you wonder how that big boy is a functional adult "I can't today, but ask me tomorrow, I'll surely be free to go"

"Really?"

"No"

Next is Jason, who although he was not as insistent as Richard, was the most energetic in his attempts, then the Joker thing happened and...well, you can't treat him badly, you're not cruel.

But coming back from the dead is his pity card, used so many times that you wonder every day if it became an excuse at some point.

"Hey" he said to you one day when he found you in the library "There's an art and literature exhibition in the downtown library, let's go"

"...I'm already reading"

"You can read with me and shop at the same time, you like shopping don't you?"

"I like my time alone with my book, Jason"

"You didn't used to say the same thing, but that's what makes you die, it leaves you thinking about your past life..."

"..."

"...Are you coming?"

"I hope you get hit by a car"

Tim is a silent pusher, he doesn't come close but you know he's there, and that happens brr brr every minute with a brr brr new message.

"Where are you?"

"Are you really asking me?"

"I give you the benefit of the doubt"

"I'm going to block you"

"Again?"

"The computers of the whole city"

Virtual annoyance has been disconnected

And Damian...OMG Damian.

It's a nuisance, a sharp little nuisance; refusing to leave your side whenever he can, demanding attention, time together, activities and visits to any place he wants.

"Sibling" greets the boy, who doesn't even know where he came from if you're at university right now and he should be at school.

"What are you doing here Damian?" You demanded harshly, looking everywhere so that no one would associate Bruce Wayne's youngest son with you, not when you did your best not to be recognized as a Wayne since you were a child.

"I want to go save wildlife in Africa from hunters and I need an adult to accompany me" he explains as if it were the most normal thing in the world, another Thursday for him.

"Tell Bruce-"

"Father"

"Let me take you, or take Richard, don't bother me"

"And I don't want adopted children, I want my blood accompanying me in this mission to safeguard wildlife"

"If I tell you if you leave?"

"Are you going with me?"

"Yes yes whatever"

You didn't go.

And not to mention the collateral damage; Barbara and her constant moments of togetherness solving cases (you don't answer her messages), Stephenie and her desire for you to teach her how to cook (you never go to the mansion's kitchen), Cassandra wanting to be by your side (years with Bruce allowed you to develop a sixth sense to evade his shadows), and the newest, Duke Thomas.

He is fine...he keeps his distance, and deliberately ignores the fact that not a single light bothers his eyesight all day.

The worst of all, your father, Bruce Wayne.

Money, gifts, trips, clothes, portraits, everything he can give you, he gives it to you, so much so that you feel like drowning sometimes.

It is strict and suffocating, affectionate but distant, present and absent at the same time. It is annoying and contradictory!

He was the reason you went on exchange to Metropolis, until you discovered that the Kents were close friends of your father and that their approach was not of good will, relocating you to Spain until you finished university.

Reluctantly you had to go back, just long enough to finish the paperwork and stop being Wayne once and for all.

But that was your mistake, coming home, and this time they won't let you go, because you can't hate them more and that's an opportunity for them.

[inkykeiji]

are we having fun yet?

characters: todoroki touya, todoroki enji warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest (adoptive siblings), rough sex, tw enji, fem!reader, toxic relationships (possessiveness, jealousy, touya’s just very mean) words: 1.7k

From the moment you stepped through the estate door, you’ve always been the princess of the family; babied to the point of patronization, pampered to the point of spoiled brat, rotten right to your sugary core.

The Todoroki family’s cherished little charity case, orphaned by a building Endeavor had failed to catch when you were only five years old, welcomed into his arms and his family and his big, big home. 

His.

Everyone loved you instantly, took to you like a swarm of maggots to a piece of fresh, ripe fruit—swathed you in adoration, gorged themselves on your sweet flesh, consumed your seeds and planted you in their hearts, let you take root, fester, grow.

Except for Touya, who, despite his big age at eleven years old—a whole six years older than you—developed a lifelong penchant for yanking on your pigtails or braids just to hear you yelp out that pretty Touya-nii!, filtered through a cutely scrunched pout. 

Everyone still loves you, even well into adulthood, desperate to aid you, to wait on you hand and foot, to take care of the poor little orphaned girl. 

Except for Touya.

Because Touya loves you even more than everyone else. Touya loves you the most. 

He wouldn’t be so goddamn mean if he didn’t. 

But regardless of how precious you are to all of the Todorokis, you are not perfect. 

And there is one teensy, tiny, slightly distasteful habit you just can’t seem to kick. 

It’s a habit you developed when you were just a child, only a few months into officially being a Todoroki.

It’s a habit you should’ve grown out of by now—any respectable young woman would have, at this point. 

It’s a habit you’ve been spoken to about several times—but, evidently, nothing quite seems to stick. 

It isn’t normal for a fully grown adult to jump into her father’s arms like that, Fuyumi had tried to explain gently, eyes brimming with sympathetic pity. It isn’t entirely appropriate. 

Maybe not. But you’re not entirely sure you care. 

Because you just can’t help it, legs taking off the moment you hear Daddy’s engine cut, bare feet padding down the hallway as Daddy’s boots collide with the cobblestone walkway, rounding the foyer corner just as he’s stepping through the front door, barrelling into his waiting arms with a syrupy sweet squeal of Daddy! sounding in your throat.

“Hey, princess,” he’s saying as he catches you, hoists you up by your armpits and cradles you to his body, large hands strong and secure beneath your bum. “How’s Daddy’s girl?” 

A routine procedure, question murmured out like clockwork, but you never tire of it.

“Better, now that you’re home,” you sigh into him, legs wrapped around his waist and arms twined around his neck, resting your head on his broad shoulder as you stare up at him. 

The familiar scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, infused with notes of dirt and rubble and a hint of sweat, and you breathe it in deeply, desperate to fill your lungs with it, that Dad Aftershave that never seems to fade, no matter how long or ruthless his shift was. 

Your ribs stretch, strain, press into Daddy’s strong chest, and he chuckles, the sound rumbling warmly against you. 

He knows what you’re doing. 

“Trying to inhale me?” he asks, but amusement streaks his tone, crystal eyes melty and lidded as they stare down at you, a small smile on his lips. 

With an embarrassed little squeak, you nod, burrowing your burning face into his shoulder, Enji laughing again; gentle, soft, full of love. 

“Y’jus smell really good, s’all,” you mumble into him. “You smell like home, Daddy.” 

“Even all sweaty and icky from work?”

“Even all sweaty and icky from work,” you confirm with a lethargic nod, thighs tightening around his thick waist, desperate to hug him closer. 

Droplets of exertion still adorn his neck, little beads glittering delicately in the setting sunlight spilling through the front windows in large beams of gold. With content humming in your throat, you nuzzle your cheek into his damp skin, smearing his sweat across your flesh, letting it seep into your tissues, forcefully marking yourself with his scent. 

“That’s gross, dad. I don’t know why you let her do that to you.” A smooth, dark voice sounds behind you, two pairs of eyes snapping to the source. 

Touya.

Leaning against the cased opening, he smirks—a cruel little curl up of his lips, sharp and void of mirth—his arms crossed loosely over his chest in practiced apathy.  

Sapphire eyes skim down your knotted bodies slow and languid, appraising, degrading, before climbing back up to meet your own stare, blue flames licking around his pupils.

“It’s not right,” he continues. He’s talking to Daddy, but his eyes haven’t left your own, the inferno blazing in his irises so bright you’re sure it’ll leave sunspots blooming in your vision.

It hurts, but you won’t bow, you won’t break—not here, not now, not for him. 

With decided defiance, you trail the tip of your nose along the sharp edge of your father’s jaw—slow, soft, sensual—planting a chaste kiss to the strong, defined hinge, steadily holding your eldest brother’s unblinking gaze. 

Oh, Touya knows what you’re doing. 

And, oh, Touya fucking hates it. 

Something sours his face, twists his features into a bitter wince—anger, or heartache, or both, morphing his handsomeness into something ugly, stained with envy.

“Oh, Touya,” Enji dismisses with a grumble and a roll of his eyes. “Can’t a father hug his little girl when he comes home? What’s the issue with that?” 

“Jesus Christ, you can’t be serious,” Touya snorts, and it’s caustic, gnawing through the heavy atmosphere. “Your ‘little girl’ is a grown fucking woman. It’s weird.” 

It’s wrong.  

“Touya’s got a point, Enji,” Rei says as she rounds the corner, lips pressed in a flat, thin line. “Sweetheart,” her eyes find yours, mouth stretching into a small, tight smile, straining beneath the pressure of contrived cordiality. “We talked about this.” 

Brow furrowing, your eyes swap between their faces. “But I’m—I was just—”

But it’s no use trying to explain; they’ve already made up their minds, already sentenced you to damnation, ice and slate scrutinizing, suffocating as their combined stares weigh down on you.

A garbled noise hitches in your throat, something that sounds suspiciously similar to unfair as you untangle yourself from your Daddy, Enji’s large hands aiding in the task, setting you down onto the hardwood floor gently.

A precious moment, smashed to bits by hard jealousy. 

An apologetic ruffle of your hair, his palm so massive it practically encases the entire top of your head—sorry, kiddo—and then he’s off, stalking down the hallway for a much-anticipated shower to wash the grime of the day from his skin, his wife following close to his side, hissing out reproaches, fragments of their conversation—discourage and indulge and shouldn’t—slicing your ears.

“You always ruin everything,” you spit at your brother, the moment both of your parents are out of view.  

“That so?” he gazes down at you with polished impassivity, sapphire lidded but scorching—but you know him better than that, you know him the best. 

“Yeah, that is so,” you seethe. “It’s so unfair that you get to fuck anything that moves but I’m not even allowed to give our father a simple hug.”

Disgust screws up his face, but it’s tinged with desolation, the implication sewn into your words loud and clear—if you could, if Daddy would let you, you’d fuck him, too.

Whether or not that’s true, whether or not it’s just a tactic to hurt him, doesn’t matter. The fact that you’re even making the implication itself is enough. 

And Touya knows better than most that these little quips, razored little insults spit between siblings, always have a glimmer of truth to them. 

“There’s nothing simple about that ‘hug’—if that’s what you want to call it.” The words are acrid, stinging his tongue, but his voice cracks, eroded by emotion. 

“What would you call it?” 

“You should be ashamed,” he continues, ignoring your question. 

“Why? It’s just an innocent—”

“Innocent?” he scoffs, eyebrows raising with sardonic surprise. “It’s indecent. Winding around our father like that, climbing him like he’s a fucking tree—” His face puckers, the thought venom in his mouth, head shaking in disapproval.

“Maybe you’re just jealous,” you say, lifting your nose with a haughty air of superiority, eyes gleaming with the thrill of the kill. “Huh? Jealous that I touch Daddy like that so freely, jealous that I like Daddy better than I like you.” 

Poor Daddy, used as a toy, a tool to wield against your big brother—the only foolproof weapon in your arsenal, the only surefire way to hurt Touya, to guarantee you get what you’re so desperately vying for.

Daddy’s Little Girl always gets what she wants—consciously or not, Daddy makes sure of that. 

Touya smirks in response; nothing more than a lopsided twitching of his lips, the hellfire in his eyes flaring, a spark of terror zipping through your veins. Huffing out the ghost of a laugh through his nostrils—humourless, bleak—his tongue runs along his front teeth, sucking hard, eyes narrowed.

You know what that means, too.

You’ll pay for that remark later tonight, face shoved into your eldest brother’s pillows, cotton wedged between your teeth as his hips smack your ass and his cock pounds your cervix and his fingers tighten around your wrists, yanking back with every plunging thrust forward, using them as leverage, your muscles pulled taut and aching. 

And that’ll just be the start. He won’t stop until his pillow is thoroughly soaked with you—your tears, your spit, your sweat, drying in hard crusts of salt—until you’re sobbing out his honorific, twined so beautifully with messy apologies, the only words your stupid little brain can comprehend, until your cute little cunt has been fucked raw, split open by his thick cock over and over and over again, stuffed so full of your big brother’s cum that it’s oozing past his shaft in dribbles of cream.

He won’t stop until your body is mangled and marred with him, dark splotches of broken blood vessels and scabby molds of his teeth reminding you of who you truly belong to.

And then, he’ll fuck you some more. 

Your Welcome Home ritual won’t be the only thing your big brother is ruining tonight. 

[fae-cookie-run-madness]

Children of Beasts au

Her Children

words: 785

It was so clear that those three cookies were White Lily’s children. Pure Vanilla somewhat wanted to kick himself for not seeing it earlier but Shadow Milk would give him an earful if he did that. He had his memories locked away after all. 

Pure Vanilla cookie had known White Lily the longest out of all the ancients, they were both orphans who studied at the Blueberry Yogurt academy together. Something had originally drawn them together, Pure Vanilla was unsure what it was, but it gave him his closest friend, so he didn’t really care. He always thought he knew everything about White Lily, that they didn’t share secrets with one another, he could always tell everything by her little habits.

He guessed he was wrong about that.

When he finally unwrapped his staff around the triplets, it was so easy to start seeing the little bits of White Lily in their actions.

Gingerbrave’s true smile, was like White Lily overtaken with excitement, so big that it threatened to tear his dough. His willingness to do what is right, even at the cost of rules, reminds Pure Vanilla of their days at school, where Lily would spell some bullies if they were being mean. Even his goal, of wanting to make Earthbread a place where everyone could belong, sounded just like what White Lily would say.

Strawberry cookie was the same. The way she would silently wait in a corner, somewhat out of fear but mainly not wanting to be rude. The way she would get this soft smile around flowers, careful touching to look for damage on the small plants. Her giggle was the exact same as White Lily’s to the point when Pure Vanilla first heard it he thought he was hearing things.

Wizard cookie was White Lily’s clone appearance wise, maybe it’s why he wore just oversized items, trying to hide his more feminine appearance but the connection shined more with his actions. Wizard’s willingness to jump in at a moment's notice if needed, so much like White Lily. His study habits, always getting absorbed into his reading and work, going days without sleep if it wasn’t his siblings keeping him grounded. Even the way he held the precious study materials made Pure Vanilla think the Witches were playing a joke on him, placing a younger White Lily right in front of him.

Those three are undoubtedly her children..

…but they are also hers.

Pure Vanilla did not like to think about the Dark Flour War, it brought up so many bad memories. But one thing that came from it, at least looking back, was how easily it was that White Lily and Dark Enchantress were one in the same. Dark Enchantress had mainly targeted the Vanilla Kingdom, likely because Shadow Milk’s connection with knowledge was what she wanted, but sometimes he kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. Dark Enchantress was White Lily at her core, a core not bound by her caring nature, overshadowed by darker traits.

And Pure Vanilla would never admit it to anyone but his husband, but he saw those traits in the kids.

Gingerbrave’s stubbornness of wanting to put his family back together, of wanting his mother back for his siblings, bored of selfishness, a sickly obsession that whispers problems if nothing was done about it. This refusal to accept that some things cannot be accomplished, some people cannot be saved.

Strawberry’s had Dark Enchantress anger. Despite her terrifying reputation during the war, Dark Enchantress never got angry, only Pure Vanilla had seen it when he imprisoned her. The burning rage in her eyes that had promised misery and pain once she got her hands on you. Strawberry’s eyes burned the same way he had only seen a few times, often during battle if one of her brothers was hurt. This hatred that wouldn’t stop, even after an enemy was reduced to crumbles and she was pulled away, a fire more fitting for the ovens.

Wizard cookie is sometimes too much like Dark Enchantress for comfort. He was calculating, often setting up traps with magic, way before anyone else noticed the danger around them. The dark magic that practically swirled around the boy, magic that had scarred White Lily yet Dark Enchantress could use it with ease. It listened to the child, the spells came as easy as breathing was to the young cookie, clung to him like his scent of ice cream. A cunning mind, mixed with dark magic, a toxic combination only belongs to two cookies Pure Vanilla has ever known.

Pure Vanilla would never say it out loud. But the children are just as much Dark Enchantress’s children as they are White Lilys.

[goodlucktai]

a bigger heart grew back

rise of the tmnt post-movie characters: leo & splinter, raph & splinter word count: 5k title borrowed from no hell by cloud cult

read on ao3

x

Splinter thought he had lived through all of life’s worsts already.

Losing his mother, estranging himself from what was left of his family, moving to the States as an orphan of his own making, falling in what he thought was love and losing his freedom as a direct result—

Years spent underground where he was forced to fight like a dog, an unwanted mutation that guaranteed his exile from society, that first bleak night in the sewers with nothing but the clothes on his back and four infants who depended upon him entirely and the utter conviction that he was going to fail them—

The resurrection of the Shredder, the collapse of Splinter’s home and the exodus of his children, the fear he had become unfortunately intimate with in those fraught hours—that his boys would become orphans, too—

Raphael’s escape pod opening and Leonardo tumbling out, eyes glassy and chest heaving with panic—sweet, sensitive Red covered in a fleshy pink parasite and forced to attack the siblings he loved more than life itself, those little turtles he had fussed over and carried and kept safe since he was just a little turtle himself—

But nothing compared to hearing the voice of his second youngest child as he prepared to end his own life.  

His precious Blue, who could sell water to a fish, bravely trying to convince his siblings that it was right for him to go. Already pulling away, beginning the vanishing act, even as Raphael begged him not to do it. 

All for that tiresome, nebulous greater good. As if any happy ending could possibly exist with Leonardo removed from the narrative. 

Splinter had thought he knew what pain was, but his heart, patchwork, secondhand thing that it was, had never broken like this before. He crumpled to the ground, and listened to Blue’s line on the comms explode into a strange whine and then static and then nothing, and it was over. 

His Blue would never crawl into his armchair for late night Spanish telenovelas again, Splinter realized. Would never wheedle and bribe and coerce him into chess matches, because he didn’t seem to know he could just ask and Splinter would play as many matches with him as there was time in a day for. Would never run from a successfully antagonized sibling and fill the lair with his ringing, infectious laughter. Would never fall asleep at the kitchen table over a medical textbook he pretended to be too cool for in the daylight hours. Would never effortlessly argue his twin out of the lab for dinner, would never lift Orange up on his shoulders to get a hard-to-reach mixing bowl because teamwork makes the dream work, would never painstakingly stitch together a ripped teddy bear for the brother whose fingers were too big to handle needle and thread ever, ever again. 

There is not a word for a parent who has lost a child. There is not a word for that particular flavor of grief that carves you empty at the same time that it fills you to the last hopeless, drowning inch. 

April sobbed openly beside him, her small, strong shoulders shaking. She had always been exactly what Splinter would have wished for in a daughter, and so the Hamato curse didn’t spare her, either. It takes and it takes and it takes. 

And then Michelangelo turned his back on despair and handed his family a miracle. 

Splinter could feel his remaining sons’ ninpo stir and then surge together, and the sheer forceful brilliance of it staggered him from all the way over on the other side of the city. He knew better than to hope—but he also knew that nothing existed in this world or the next that could possibly outstubborn his children, or strong-arm them into abandoning each other, or quite frankly make them do any single thing they adamantly as a group did not want to do. 

“Guys,” April choked out. “Talk to me, what’s going on? Hello?”

Thudding footfalls announced Casey approaching at a run. He jumped over one of the pinned Krang’s flailing tentacles as if he dodged ballistic alien parts every day of his life and skidded to the ground beside them on armored knees.

“I felt it,” Blue’s child from another life gasped, face tacky with half-dried tears. “That’s Uncle Angie opening a door. No one else could do it but him.”

Casey had a familiar katana at his side, blue and gleaming. His fingers seemed like they wanted to linger on the hilt but he handed it over to Splinter agreeably enough. The lingering ninpo in the blade usually welcomed Splinter warmly, eager to be of use, a telling mirror of the way Leonardo himself was so anxious to please and be praised. But this time the tool that Splinter picked up was an innate, lifeless thing. 

He prodded tentatively with his own qi. The runes flickered once, half-hearted, in the manner of a dog waking at the sound of a key in the door, ascertaining the person there was not the one it belonged to, and laying its head back down to sleep. 

Splinter would not be able to follow the whims of his son’s ninpo to create a portal while it lay dormant. His own uselessness crushed him. 

“Raph mentioned Staten Island earlier,” April said, wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm and pushing herself to her feet, business-like and brisk because she couldn’t afford to be anything else. “I doubt the ferry’s running, and the bridge is going to be a gridlock nightmare, so it looks like we’re stealing a boat.”

“If your mother asks, I did not condone this,” Splinter said hoarsely. “That said, the marina is too far to run to, so first we are stealing a car.”

They were halfway across the river in a cruiser that probably wasn’t meant to sustain the sixty miles an hour April was pushing when that startling shout of their family’s ninpo finally started to fade into a soft-spoken susurrus. 

Before it was too quiet to make out clearly, he felt it: that achingly familiar mischievous blue energy, like a playful breeze flying above everything. Much smaller than usual, less spirited—giving more of the impression of a tiny tide pool creature hiding inside its shell than a smartmouthed sixteen year old boy with the whole world in his corner—but present. 

Alive. 

“Sensei,” Casey whispered. 

“They got him,” April said, a ferocious, not-to-be-trifled-with look in her eye, all but daring the universe to try to make her a liar. “They saved him somehow, I know it.”

They were both Hamato enough to feel it as certainly as Splinter did.

But the boys hadn’t thought to include anyone else in their immediate, hard-won victory—and in fact, the call Splinter, April and Casey finally received some ten minutes later was one of outright panic. 

“Dad, dad, are you there?” Orange’s voice warbled. He sounded all of fifteen years old and frightened in a way that set Splinter’s fur on edge instantly. “Dad, Leo’s hurt bad. He was awake a second ago, and talking even, but then he stopped making sense and just—just fell—”

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Purple added, high-strung and liable to start biting if one more thing went catastrophically wrong within a mile of his person. “I’m scanning him but I don’t—I’m not a doctor I don’t know—”

“Send the readouts to me,” Casey said quickly, pulling his mask down, its lenses glowing green as the interface came to life. “Sensei trained me in field medicine, I can help with anything short of an open-heart surgery.”

“You take after your father,” Donatello replied. “Irredeemable overachievers.”

That faint thread of gratitude in his voice would go unheard by anyone who didn’t know him, but Casey huffed a near-silent exhale, having heard it loud and clear.

What Future Boy had to share with them wasn’t great, but it wasn’t the worst it could have been, either. Leonardo had sustained a number of broken bones and soft tissue damage, the cartilage in his right knee was torn as if the joint had been viciously twisted, one of his cheekbones was fractured, and even his shell had suffered a few hairline cracks. Altogether, he was looking at a long recovery, not unlike what the survivor of a traumatic car accident might have had to look forward to—but he would recover. 

It wasn’t enough to prepare Splinter for actually seeing him. His Baby Blue, a tiny little thing in Raphael’s arms, with a face so beaten it was hard to make out the bright red stripe on one side. 

“Okay,” April said, voice thick with anger and hurt and love. “Okay. Everyone on the boat.”

And finally they were home, after the longest day in history. Casey confirmed his initial diagnosis, with the caveat that they would know more when Leonardo woke up. He insisted to an audience of grim faces that it was a very good sign Leonardo had been awake and coherent in the first place, however briefly. 

So Blue was disinfected and splinted and bandaged and medicated and then tucked safely away in the infirmary bed. Everyone else was seen to in short order. It was an easier task than it usually was, since none of them were remotely willing to leave just yet. 

Splinter made a mental note to call Draxum to double-check that Michelangelo hadn’t pushed himself too far in creating a gateway—the glowing lines on his hands had faded, and beyond an occasional tremor, he promised his family up and down that he was actually fine. Donatello’s shell was a quiet source of concern, but the only person alive who could harass him into a checkup without getting maimed for his trouble was currently very much out of action. Raphael’s eye was definitely infected, and blood vessels had burst when he’d ripped the parasite away, coloring the sclera an alarming red. 

The rest of the clan watched in some unspoken, exhausted wonder as Casey unthinkingly maneuvered around Leonardo’s infirmary as if he’d spent part of every day of his life there, knowing which drawer to find compression gloves for Orange in, locating topical pain reliever for Purple that he could apply himself and medicated eyedrops for Red in quick succession, before ultimately offering a bottle of extra strength Tylenol to April, who accepted it gravely. 

“You’re a weird kid,” she said. From her, it was a declaration of approval. “You better plan on sticking around.”

“Oh,” Casey said at length, surprised. Clearly, he hadn’t thought ahead to what the after of his mission would be shaped like. His gaze lingered on Leo’s little bundled-up figure in the bed, so full of love and grief for a man who didn’t yet exist, and Splinter thought to hell with it. The kid was as good as his grandson if you squinted. 

“We’ll find a bed for you,” Splinter said, some tiny corner of his mind free from screaming worry and bone-deep exhaustion already plotting where to make room for another subway car. “In the meantime, the sofa is yours.”

With that, five out of six children had been packed off to sleep. It took April and Michelangelo combined to pry Donatello’s hand from Leonardo’s, and subsequently his entire person from the infirmary. Raphael pulled a chair up to Leonardo’s bed and Splinter didn’t try to argue him out, knowing when to pick his battles. 

Red had a familiar look on his face, an elephant in the room that often went unacknowledged for both their sakes. That look that said you’re his father but he’s my kid, too.

He had earned the right. No one could argue that. Late night vigils were his wheelhouse and had been ever since he was about nine years old. When Splinter didn’t have to be quite so present—when he started to let the tired gray encroach more and more, when he stopped getting out of bed right away at the sound of a child crying—Red quietly learned how to tend fevers and stomach bugs and bad dreams. 

Soon enough, the boys stopped calling for daddy when they were hurting and started calling for Raphie instead. And their Raphie always came when they called.   

Which was why it must have hurt like a blade piercing clean through his ribs when Leonardo finally stirred at something approaching two o’clock in the morning, blinked muddy gold eyes open slowly, looked up at the familiar shape of his biggest brother beside the bed, and flinched. 

The world hadn’t ended yesterday. It was happening now instead.

Splinter had thought he knew what pain was. But life did not seem to ever run out of brand new lessons to teach. 

“Leo,” Red whispered, heartbreak obvious in every inch of him. His hand was frozen in the air between them, arrested right in the middle of reaching out. 

“No,” Blue managed, twisting around like he would attempt an escape the second he figured out where his limbs were in relation to the bed, IV be damned. The lines on the heart rate monitor started to crest dramatically. 

“Leo it’s okay it’s—it’s me, I’m not—I’m not going to—I would never hurt—” 

His voice strangled itself into silence. After all, at least some of those grisly black and blue marks around Leonardo’s neck were from him. 

“Papa,” Leonardo cried out, the call reaching directly into Splinter’s heart with hooks and yanking him out of his chair. “I want papa, please, please—”

Clambering onto the bed, minding all the hardware, Splinter placed a careful hand on his second-youngest’s feverish head to soothe him. 

He felt like an imposter, especially with Red still frozen like a statue behind him, but that part of his heart that had been smothered once, allowing his children’s cries for him to go unanswered and someone else to pick up the slack, was the loudest part of him now. 

There was physically nothing else he could do but stroke that bruised forehead with the pad of his thumb and tell him, “Hush, Baby Blue, your papa is here. You are safe. You are home.” 

Leonardo turned his face into Splinter’s hand, hiding as much as he was capable of. Raphael took one staggering step back, then another, then turned on his heel and fled the way Splinter had no memory of him ever doing before, infirmary door crashing behind him. 

Torn completely in two, Splinter summoned conviction from those ancient spirits housed in his soul and forced himself at knife point to be strong for his family for once in his goddamn life. 

“What are these tears for, silly turtle?” he murmured, the same way he had when Leonardo still mostly fit in the palm of one hand. Back then, all Leonardo wanted was to be held. He wondered if that was still true. “You are the safest little turtle who ever lived. There is no one left in this world who is stronger than the people who love you, don’t you know that? Your baby brother pulled down the stars for you. Your twin did not let go of your hand even once. And your big brother carried you home. You are safe. You are so loved.”

It was a nonsense litany for the most part, all true things said to someone who clearly was only absorbing every third word or so. But Blue stopped hiding his face at some point, eyes wet with tears he is even now too stubborn to let fall. 

Splinter felt as though he was looking at a childhood memory of himself, trying to be strong when it would have been better—kinder—to allow himself a much-needed moment of weakness. 

“You think you’re too grown-up to cry in front of this old man?” he said, gently pinching Blue’s cheek on the side of his face that hadn’t been crushed beneath a monster’s fist. “Try again in about a hundred years.”

Blue blew a tired raspberry at him. Splinter laughed, surprised at the show of spirit, his heart doing cartwheels at this proof of his irrepressible little boy unchanged by the close brush with tragedy. Winning a laugh from his father was enough to coax the ghost of a smile across Blue’s face. 

“How are you feeling? We have some water for you here. No, don’t sit up. Let me help.”

He really ought to let everyone know Blue was awake, but they had just gone to sleep. His other kids needed their rest, too. It had been a truly terrible day. 

And now that Red was out of the room—that thought dripped with oily, unpleasant guilt—Blue seemed to be in a more solid state of mind. He had winced as he tried to sit up for water, but if he didn’t have whiplash after a psychotic alien flung him around like a terrier would its chew toy, Splinter would eat his tail. There were none of the red flags Casey had warned him to be on the lookout for. The only thing Draxum had done right in his life was develop a mutagen that made these boys all but indestructible. Splinter would have to find the mental fortitude to choke out a thank you to him for that. 

“It has been a long time since a sick little turtle has called for me,” Splinter murmured, stroking Blue’s forehead around the bandages. “Normally you are all ready to fight each other to the death to monopolize Red’s attention.” 

It was only partly a joke. Leonardo gazed up at him, eyes glassy. It was hard to gauge how much of their conversation was sticking the landing and how much was somersaulting straight over his sluggish head. 

Then Leonardo said, “He hates me.”

“Pardon?” Splinter said stupidly. 

His son blinked, and finally fat tears rolled down his cheeks, soaking into bandages on one side, unchecked on the other. 

“He hates me,” Blue insisted. “He’s right. It was my fault.”

“No one hates you,” Splinter said, reeling. He’d been right here the whole time and yet somehow he was suddenly flailing about two miles behind. 

“You didn’t see his face. You didn’t see—and his eye—all because I—I couldn’t—” He sobbed, an awful sound, and turned to press his face into his pillow. Once he started crying he couldn’t seem to stop. The rest of his words stumbled out thick and choked and terribly sincere. “I couldn’t just—be what I was supposed to be. And he—and it was all my fault.”

There were few things Splinter regretted more than his fumbling of the leadership role. He had always known that Blue was too clever for his own good, that he had a head for strategy—as evidenced by his early mastering of chess, entirely outpacing Splinter’s own skill level by the age of eleven. 

Acknowledging that in theory and learning to trust it in practice were two separate beasts, but watching from the front row as his baby outsmarted Big Mama of all people left little room for doubt. 

On the other hand, Red was as solid and dependable as they came, the foundation his siblings built their whole lives on. As far as they were concerned, the sun only rose in the morning because Raphael hung it up there. 

But Splinter’s eldest son was prone to anxiety that tended to fall on him like a guillotine, a kill switch to his rational thought. The twins floated terms like ‘panic disorder’ and the entire family was well-versed in helping him through his episodes, but if even an ounce of the burden on his shoulders could be reduced, that could only help. 

Red would be happier and function better in a support role, where his top priorities would be to protect his little brothers the way he always had protected them, and to smash whatever Leonardo pointed him at. 

Splinter should have sat them both down and explained it. He shouldn’t have left Red to feel as though he had done something wrong, that he had failed somehow. And he shouldn’t have let Blue believe he would be shoved into the deep end and left to sink or swim.

His boys were little gremlins who thrived in chaos and learned best on the fly. Splinter had thought the surprise announcement would have been an utter shock at first and the new normal by dinnertime. They were always so much on the same page, so in tune with one another, that he couldn’t have guessed it would turn into the tangled mess of hurt and frustration and miscommunication and blame that it did. 

He should have stepped in the first time Red punched through a wall in a fit of anger and Blue laughed as though his biggest brother’s good opinion of him didn’t matter in the slightest. Instead he was a coward, unable to face them and admit his wrongs. He left his children to resolve it themselves and suffer in the meantime. 

He should have done better. Maybe one day he would learn. 

For now Splinter held Blue’s face in one hand and wiped it clean with a cloth in the other, patient with every new flood of tears. The last time he had seen Blue cry was the night the Shredder destroyed their home and killed Karai. There had been no time to comfort him then. 

He takes after his Gram-gram, Splinter thought, and tried not to resent her for it. 

“No one hates my sweet Baby Blue,” he said, willing the stubborn child to hear him. “Especially not my other sweet baby Red. You are a very confused turtle, that’s all. You will see. No one hates you.”

“You don’t,” Leonardo mumbled. “You’re not allowed to. You’re my dad. You don’t have to like me, but you’re not allowed to hate me. S’in the—the contract. You signed it. Legally binding. No arbi-arbi—”

“Arbitration. I would like to study your mind under a microscope. Maybe then I will have a hope of understanding these twists and turns it takes.” 

Splinter’s voice sounded nothing but fond even to his own ears. 

His children were all incredible people worth knowing, worth living for, and it was a very special joy to still be surprised after all these years by how much more he loved them today than he did the day before. To think about how much more he would love them tomorrow, even though it felt impossible to love anyone more than he loved them right now. 

“You are so important, Leonardo,” Splinter said gently. “To me, and to your siblings, and to your friends. We would miss you so much if you weren’t here. We all want to see you get well.”

“It’s not about me,” Blue said, wobbly and miserable and matter-of-fact. “I know it’s not. I have to make up for it. I’ll prove—prove—”

“You have nothing to prove. It was not your fault.” Splinter pressed Leonardo’s chin gently to close his mouth when he inevitably opened it to argue. “Hush. You did not steal the key. You did not open the door. It was not even your responsibility to stop either of those things from happening. You are a child. It cannot be any one person’s duty to save this planet on their own. That doesn’t even make sense.” 

Blue’s expression was becoming thunderous, which was silly and endearing, because his cheeks were still tacky with the remnants of his tears and half of his face was a swathe of bandages and without his mask he looked years younger than he already was. Splinter felt affection unfold in his heart like one of those absurdly big tropical flowers with petals the size of dinner plates, taking up more room than it was allowed and spilling out the sides and going on forever. 

“Can I tell you something else? Your brothers aren’t allowed to hate you either. It’s in the contract as well.”

“They do,” Blue said tearfully, face still screwed up beneath Splinter’s hand. But his eyes drifted in the direction of the door, and the wanting in them was plain to see. Splinter took matters into his own hands. 

“If I’m right, you must finish watching The Strange Return of Diana Salazar with me.”

His son took a moment to digest that, slower on the uptake than usual. Finally, he asked, “Don’t we have like a hundred episodes left?”

“I said what I said,” Splinter said sagely, then patted his cheek and hopped down from the bed. 

He found Raphael exactly where he expected to find him, sitting just outside the cracked infirmary door, a hunched over shape that seemed unwilling to take up a single unnecessary inch of space. 

Red stared up at him, unbandaged eye wide. 

“I don’t hate him,” he blurted. “I could never—I wouldn’t even know how.”

“I know, my dear.”

“Even if he’d done it on purpose,” Red went on. “Even if he stole the key and took it to the Foot and opened the door with his own two hands, I wouldn’t have done a single thing differently.”

Splinter had worried when the turtles were very young that Raphael would frighten one of his siblings accidentally. He was so much bigger than them and toddlers were not well known for their self control or emotional regulation. It was a lingering fear that Red would say or do something he did not mean in the heat of the moment, and alienate himself. That something would happen in a split second that would cause his brothers to grow up wary of him. 

It was an unfounded worry. Raphael was a quiet little boy, the last of the four to start talking, and as sweet as an American dessert. Splinter’s little apple pie. Even as he got older and started playing rougher, testing his strength and raising his voice, he never forgot when he needed to be gentle. 

His brothers never ran from him unless they were avoiding bedtime or a well-deserved grounding or really did not want to go watch wrestling, Raph, it was boring. Otherwise he was their North star. 

Even now, Leonardo would rather hide himself away than face a world in which he no longer had a Raphael to run to. 

“How could he think that?” Red asked desperately. “He was going to die back there and he thought that’s what I wanted.”

Splinter cupped Red’s face in his hands and told him, “Blue was trying to do what his hero would have done. All of my children are so quick to sacrifice for each other. It is a wonderful thing to love someone so much, but consider the example you are setting.” Red’s good eye filled with tears, and Splinter was powerless to do anything but kiss him firmly on the forehead. “As empty as our lives would have been without him, they would have been just as empty without you. You are fundamental to us. Please remember that.”

“I know, pops,” Raphael whispered. “I’ll remember.”

“It is not always possible to win without losing but we must fight tooth and nail anyway. Abandon honor and heroism. Do what it takes to bring yourself and your brothers home. I would much sooner tell the great Hamato clan where they can stick it then let you join them before your time.”

It coaxed a shy smile from his eldest son, the barest exhale of a laugh. Still his sweet apple pie, no matter how big he got. 

“I’m gonna go see him,” Red said bravely. “I’m missing out on premium Leo time while the gremlins are asleep.”

“Very wise,” Splinter said, patting his cheeks in approval.

Leonardo had managed to drag the blanket up over his head while no one was around to stop him, and only one golden eye peered out at them from his makeshift shell. 

Raphael snorted and leaned over to peel it back down, heedless of his smaller brother’s protests. He let one hand linger on Leonardo’s scuffed plastron, and the other cupped the back of his bruised head. 

“You’re so dumb,” Red said. “I love you more than anything. If you ever try to go anywhere without me ever again, I’ll make your life a living hell. Capiche?”

Blue stared up at him. It’s very possible he didn’t understand every word of that. But the tone seemed to get through. 

His hand drifted up slowly, as if it weighed a thousand pounds, to cover the one planted on his chest. When the world didn’t end and his big brother continued to smile down at him like nothing between the two of them was any different than it used to be, Blue risked a smile back. 

“I capiche.”

“You’re not alone, okay?” Red went on, playfulness gentling into sincerity. “We’ll figure it out. I’m in your corner, right where I’ve always been. But for now let’s get some sleep, big man.”

He didn’t move his hands even after Leonardo had dozed off. He just hooked his foot around the leg of his chair and scooted it closer to the bed before sinking into it. 

Splinter joined him, and felt both aged by the last hour and rejuvenated. He needed a good pair of running shoes to keep up with these kids.     

“He never asks to play chess with anyone else you know,” Red said suddenly. 

Thrown by the non sequitur, Splinter could only offer an intelligent, “Huh?”

“Leo only learned how to play because of a comment you made once about—I don’t even remember what you said. But it stuck with him. He wanted to impress you. And he started learning Spanish because of those weird soaps you guys watch. He drove us crazy practicing every day but he never let up.

“I know that it seems like he does whatever he wants without rhyme or reason, but I think he just tries really hard to make it seem that way. Otherwise we’d all clue in to the fact that every single thing he does is just—him trying to get closer to us somehow. And then his cool guy cover would be blown. And god forbid that.” 

Raphael brushed his thumb over the crown of Leonardo’s head, much like the way Splinter had earlier. 

“He doesn’t love you for no reason, pops,” Red went on, not looking at him. “None of us do. Even when getting out of bed was the hardest thing in the world, you came running when I needed you. Every time I needed you. I learned all my moves from the best.”

Splinter had seen the worst of the world. He was no stranger to pain. 

It was only occurring to him now that the opposite was also true. 

His life was so full of impossibly good, underserved things; every day a little brighter, every night a little richer. 

Four little creatures tumbled into his world by chance and then filled it to the brim with mayhem and color and laughter and pride, and he would not take a second of it back. He would not change a single painful part. 

If only he had known as a young man where he would end up someday. It would have made those earlier years so much easier to survive. 

Pretending his own eyes weren’t wet, Splinter said, “It will be hell on earth in the morning when Orange discovers we let him sleep through Blue waking up. You had better rest while you can.”

Smiling to himself, Red folded his arms on the side of the bed and rested his head in them, tilted so that his brother was within line of sight of his good eye. He had capitulated to the changing of the guard without complaint, but he was still tense. Primed for danger. Anxiety no doubt at play. 

But Splinter was not without his tricks. He stroked Red’s carapace between the spikes, humming an old TV theme song under his breath. He did this for upwards of an hour once, back when Red was still small enough to be held in his lap, fussy and clingy after a bad dream. 

Sure enough, with a great, shuddering sigh, Raphael’s shoulders went slack, and his breathing evened out—asleep within moments after the day he’d had.  

“I’ve still got it,” Splinter murmured, and let himself have the win, as small as it was. If nothing else, he could give his children a safe place to rest. 

And that really was no small thing at all. 

[y2kas13]

It’s insane you guys are more concerned about stupid fanfics about a stupid Zionist games and their Zionist characters then children now becoming orphans and having to figure a way for themselves to eat or feed their baby siblings. Or mothers whose whole world revolved around her children having to look at rubble knowing her precious babies are crushed under it. You guys make me sick

[carnation-damnation]

hello, i was wondering if you had more of your faker AU you'd be willing to share?

HI. YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU JUST DID.

In my head, this AU's story is like 300k words long but I'm incapable of all that so here's some little storybeats and worldbuilding I suppose ...

Hit that read more bc this thang got LONG

So...I got the idea for this AU because I wanted to explore a character I hadn't explored much of yet, with the intent of Shadow and Sonic being forced in each others shoes. Shadow is confronted with a mirror of his trust issues, and how he still struggles to let himself REALLY enjoy the world he and Maria wanted to see so bad, Sonic has the discomforting catharsis of being truly unshackled from what the world expects of him. Sonic doesn't need to be a hero. He isn't one. He doesn't have any friends he needs to worry about.

We follow Shadow as he wakes up in an unfamiliar place. Shadow doesn't know it's the phantom ruby yet, but he knows something isn't right when he sees Maria in what should be Rouge's room. In fact, Rouge and Omega don't seem to exist at all. When asked about them, Shadow's "friends" shoot him confused glances and tilted heads. No, he's not a member of "Team Dark". He's best friends with Amy Rose and Knuckles the Echidna, and together they all help in the on-going fight against Maria's cousin Ivo Robotnik, their greatest enemy. When Shadow asks whatever happened to Sonic and his high-flying companion, Amy's brow furrows and she gives him a sour look. Why are we talking about that blue, hot-heated jerk right now?

Sonic wakes up from a recurring dream about the same facility that he feels he was born in. His cramped, tight living quarters as familiar to him as the metal bands adorning his wrist and ankles. This is how it's always been. It's all he knows. All he remembers. He, his pal Tails, and other young orphaned mobians with "interesting quirks" were taken by G.U.N., Sonic's super speed and reaction to chaos energy being the focus of research. He was tested on, subjected to WAY too much chaos energy (dark sonic.. smiles), and he's constantly monitored in a room that's too small for him. Sonic, Tails, and a few more of the kids tried to escape, which ended in Sonic being the only one captured alive. This is Sonic's strongest memory. It burns in his mind like an afterimage that won't go away. Sonic is no one's friend and no one's ally, he couldn't keep any if he cared to try, not after what it took from him, when he had only one thing that was truly precious. He's quick to anger, and quicker to act before thinking. If typical, usual Sonic is someone who never displays negative emotions, this Sonic is incapable of keeping them IN. Sonic would run through anyone in his way, literally, if the metal bands on his wrist didn't prevent him from doing so, anyhow.

It should be mentioned that Shadow believes that everyone in this phantom-ruby powered version of their world is just as fake and phony as the world itself. Shadow is no longer the naive person he was before. He knows nothing is right here. He plays along. He adopts his own awkward form of Sonic's quips that don't last very long. He commonly sports a big, toothy grin and softens his face. He plays Sonic's role and reaps the benefits of someone so free and self-confident. Someone who has loyal, affectionate friends. Someone who's beloved by the world. Someone who has a sibling-like best friend. It's not THAT easy for him to do it of course, but overtime, he does. If it makes it easier for Shadow to reach his goal, he will adapt. In my head, this story is...months long.

Shadow's friends, Maria especially, don't like when Sonic is brought up. When they're on missions that result in Sonic stepping in to take care of egghead, (sonic has a more vulgar word for him) they do everything to keep them both separate. The world doesn't want them talking to each other. The world doesn't want them both to know more than what's told to them. Sonic's earring is replaced by a device that causes a ringing sound that gives Sonic headaches when Shadow's around. Good. Sonic doesn't want to be around this dork anyway. Shadow takes this as NEEDING to persue Sonic, which he's not a fan of. He can hardly handle Sonic's Sonicisms as he is, and this firey, downright ridiculous imitation grinds on his nerves, too. But the more they get into squabbles, the more Shadow begins to question Sonic's fakeness at all. Maybe that's what he's missing. Maybe he's not the only one stuck here.

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (41)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none (No taglist next chapter)

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz). YOU GUYS! Sorry for not updating last thursday. I was on vacation so I wasn't really on here. But we are back to regularly scheduled updating. There are only 8 chapters left for Arc one by the way!

Staytinyville Permanent Taglist

There was something about the atmosphere that made everything feel tense. At least to your father it felt that way. He had patrons already waiting in the saloon for the afternoon, all talking in hushed whispers as they gossiped about something having to do with city hall. Your father frowned, opening the door to allow them all in for an afternoon drink.

“What's going on?” Your mother asked, watching as the men cheered about some things while others ordered drinks they normally wouldn’t. 

“I don't know.” Your father shrugged. “A lot of people started coming in all happy and talking about something that happened.”

“A miracle is what it was.” Someone overheard your parents, inserting themselves into the conversation. 

“It wasn't some miracle!” Someone else scoffed. “It was the work of the mayor! Always knew that Klein didn't do anything for selfish reasons.” He turned to your parents grin on his face as he thought about their precious mayor.

“You haven't heard? He returned all the money from the extra taxes he's been adding. At least to the less fortunate.” He explained. 

Your mother’s eyebrows rose, quickly pulling together as she thought about the small pouch she had found in the back office. Looking over at your father, she pulled him along. “Excuse me.” She said to the customers. 

“(F/N) where did we get all that extra cash from?” She quietly asked.

“I honestly don't know.” Your father shrugged. “It was just left in a bag in the mail.” He looked at the men who were talking. “Should I return it? We aren't in desperate need of it.”

“I think you should give it to the hospital. I'm sure they need it more.” Your mother spoke up after a moment.

Your father hummed a bit, thinking about how you were fairing. “Do you think (Y/N) needs it? Maybe we can give her money for her new home.” He told your mother. 

“Maybe just a little.” Your mother smiled softly. She suddenly frowned as she thought about where she would have to take the money though. “She never told us where she lived.”

“Maybe (S/N) knows.” Your father told her, causing her to nod. They went back to their work positions, your mother quickly finding your sister doing some laundry out back while you little brother watched.

“Do you know where (Y/N) and Yeosang live?” Your mother asked her, causing her to look up with wide eyes. “We were going to give them some money for their home.” 

Your sister didn’t really think your parents would approve of you living in tents in the middle of the woods. She kind of hoped you would have found something by then but knowing what it was the boys did she was sure you wouldn’t have a stable home for a while. At least not here in Cromer for the time being. 

“They live in the wood-”

“Some wooden cabin a bit ways from here.” She cut off your brother, wiping her hands off on her skirts. Glancing at the small pouch in her mother’s hands, she gave the woman a smile. “I can take it to them.”

“It's alright!” Your mother waved her off. “We'll all go.”

“No, mom really.” She shook her head again. “I should do it!”

Before they got the chance to argue more, commotion in the distance stopped them. A crowd was forming at the church they would go to every Sunday. It was at the end of the street, with a long driveway that doubled as a lawn where gatherings were held. 

“What's going on?” Your mother frowned, beginning to make her way over. 

Your siblings followed along, eyes casting over the mob that was taking up the church’s driveway. There were confused people as well as angry. The orphans who were being taken care of by the nuns were all huddled behind them, trying to hide from the people yelling. 

Some men had tried to reach the children, one succeeding in grabbing a hold of a little boy's arm. 

“Stop!” Your mother screamed. “Leave them alone!” She rushed forward and quickly shoved the man away. 

“Can't you see they're just children.” She screamed at him.

Your father had rushed forward, pulling your mother back to keep from having the aggressive man do something to her. Your eldest brother held back your siblings, trying to keep them from harm. It was clear where it was you got your heroic spirit from, your sense of justice coming out when there were people in need. 

“Children to criminals!” The man sneered. “They took our money to keep for themselves! All of them!” He screamed. 

A few of the people murmured to themselves over the speculation while less agreed with the man. Your father looked over the people who lived in the church, frowning his eyebrows as he took in the three nuns and 6 children. The father of the church made sure to huddle them all behind him, pulling the little boy who had gotten grabbed into his side. 

“They are children!” The father scoffed. “How dare you think that of them!?”

“They were found with the money taken from the vault.” Someone shouted out. “These nuns are not as innocent as they claim.”

“God will strike you down for the lies you tell.” One of the nuns yelled back. 

“And for your sins, sister?” They continued to argue. 

“Do not speak to her that way!” Your father walked over to the church people, sticking an arm out to defend them. 

“Where could they have possibly gotten all that money? It's an orphanage!” 

Some of the town’s police had turned up, moving people away from the crowd to come up at the front. Our sister noticed the sheriff hiding amongst the people, watching the arguments go down with a harsh stare. She furrowed her eyebrows, before turning to look at her dad.

“And where did you get it? Cheating your way through gambling?” Your father sneered back, looking at the man with a harsh glare. 

“They're probably hanging around the wrong kind of people. Probably have to do with those boys working at your hotel.” The man retorted, turning everyone’s attention onto your family. 

They began to murmur again, this time the sheriff looking at your father with an upturned nose. Your sister swallowed her spit to relieve the dryness in her throat. She had a bad feeling about all of this and had no idea how to solve it. The only one she thought of was you. 

“I hear they are friends with those officers from the capital. They're probably crooked cops.” The man continued.

“That is my son in law you're talking about.” Your father looked angry, walking up chest to chest with the man. “You better watch yourself.” He added.

“You defending them?” He asked your father. “Don't tell me you're involved.” He scoffed. 

“I wouldn't open my mouth if I were you. I know things that can ruin you.” Your father threatened. 

“Threatening me now?” He huffed. The man turned around to face the crowd, eyes catching sight of the sheriff. They gave each other nods of their heads, understanding where things were gonna go.

“We'll see how that ends for you, (L/N).” He told your father. 

Your father gave the sheriff a look before calmly walking over to your siblings and mother. Your mother pulled him into a tight hug. As your sister watched the sheriff talk with the man who was arguing, she turned to look at her parents. 

“Dad.” Your sister called out, her tone full of worry.

“Give all the money to (Y/N).” He whispered over your mom’s shoulder and towards your sister. “She'll know where to hide it.”

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @puppyminnnie

[babbletaels]

People are seriously putting all the blame on Koril for this just because you don't want your precious little jedi to ever be at fault for anything.

Koril has EVERY right to defend her children from abducters

She has EVERY right to believe in the religion she believes in (there's this thing called religious freedom don't know if you've heard of it)

She is RIGHT to not let 8 year old children make major life decisions

She is RIGHT to not let her children go outside alone when there are potentially dangerous animals and plants there

She is also right that if she has told them prior to not go outside alone, she shouldn't let them be outside alone as a principle as children need to learn to listen to their parents

Kids should not play next to a tree that has leaves that will KILL YOU if you eat them

The ascension ritual is probably not that bad, it seems to be no different from being christened as a baby or any other things we make our kids go through whether they want to or not in real life

Korils parenting is being bulldozed over by Aniseya just because Aniseya is the leader of the coven, so Koril likely feels a need to be stricter to counteract Aniseyas lacking

Telling your kid who didn't listen in class that you expect more from them isn't evil

Again protecting your kids from being abducted at the age of 8 is not evil

Yes she was rough with Mae and telling her to get mad and stop Osha from leaving is BAD but not because it's bad for Osha to stay, but because of the way she presented the issue to Mae, putting siblings against eachother is not good. However, everyone makes mistakes and in Korils eyes this is a dire situation. Actually, it IS a dire situation as she is about to lose one of her very young children, as we see Aniseya has already decided to let the jedi take their child.

She had no way of knowing what Mae would do, that Mae would have the idea to burn the book, and that Mae would drop the book and accidentally cause a fire. Maybe they should've had a fire alarm in their home though, but that's not Korils fault. Since Aniseya is the leader she should be the one to order fire alarms, obviously.

Again 8 year olds are not mature enough to make the decision to leave their family behind. Maybe if they were abused but it didn't seem like it and the narrative opposes that idea too.

Koril has every right to think the jedi's parenting is bad. They're all orphans who were abducted as children and now have been groomed to keep abducting children, would you trust them with your 8 year old child?

How much does the individual person who's not a jedi even know about the jedi order? How could Koril possibly know if they will treat her daughter badly or not? How could she possibly know they're not there to kill everyone?

Sol stabs Aniseya, heavily implied to be in a relationship with Koril, right in front of her eyes. If the jedi weren't a threat before, they definitely are now, and she wants them to get the fuck out of there or die

Yes, she should have gone to check on her kids before killing the intruders but then she could likely be killed before getting to the kids, since she now thinks that the jedi are there to harm them

No, it's not a cult just because you think it looks different and scary, there's bound to be a lot of different religions and beliefs in a show where PEOPLE ARE LIVING ON DIFFERENT PLANETS AND TRAVELLING THROUGH SPACE TO DIFFERENT PLANETS

If you think that an entirely different planet should not have different beliefs than you, you sound like a colonizer

[allthesmutl0vers]

Introducing: Callum 'Cal' Jacob Weasley

Elle's Nav. Guide l Requests / Ask Elle: OPEN

H.P / Slytherin m.list l H.P / Slytherin Taglist

This character is of my own creation, and all credit belongs to me.

©️ Elle's Cove (allthesmutl0vers) 2025

Pronunciation: Cal-lum - 'Cal' like like the beginning of 'California'.

(Voldemort will be the father of Tom and Mattheo in his backstory - it makes it easier to follow some of the cannon events in the og. storyline.)

Backstory:  

Twin brother of Ron Weasley and the black sheep of the Weasley family. From a young age, he has always been curious about the darker sides of magic—often staying up late to eavesdrop on late-night conversations between his parents about the first Wizarding War. 

What started as an innocent childhood curiosity about the Dark Arts only grew more inquisitive the more the adults in his life—even his siblings—tried to stamp out his curious nature. His older brothers sometimes even resorted to violence when they tried to get their point across: The Dark Arts are absolutely and irrevocably evil. 

Due to his explosive and sometimes abusive homelife, Callum often spends the holidays at Hogwarts—refusing to go home and listen to his family boast and pretend that Molly and Arthur don’t fight every other day, that Ron is best friends with precious little orphan Potter an the insufferable Hermione Granger, or how every child is perfect except for him. During the summers, he spends the majority of his time with his best friend, Tom Riddle, at Riddle Manor, just down the road from Malfoy Manor. On the chance he is home—he locks himself away in the attic that he claimed after threatening the ghoul that once occupied it. Sending owl messages late at night or sneaking away to steal whatever rare and/or forbidden items his customers request.

While Callum despises most of his family, he has a soft spot for his youngest sibling, Ginny—who was too young to remember most of the abuse inflicted by their older brothers and occasionally their father on a night after too much Firewhiskey. Ginny also shares a curious nature for the Dark Arts, but primarily from a scholastic perspective. Having spent many nights in Callum’s dorm room listening to his low and soothing voice read her to sleep with whatever Dark Arts tome he has nearby when she wants comfort during a thunderstorm. Sometimes even humming a soft and gentle tune that Molly used to rock him to sleep with as a baby before everything went to shit. 

His curiosity for the Dark Arts morphed into an obsession once he started Hogwarts. Sorted into Slytherin house, unlike the rest of his family, he found a new one in his peers. While at first, the Slytherin boys were hesitant, if not cruel, to the young Weasley boy—a bond was formed over the years over sleepless nights in the common room talking about everything under the guise of Dark Arts, and the shared stories from their perspectives of the previous war passed down from their parents.

While Callum refuses to truly trust anyone in this world, the bonds he has formed in his new family keep him from well and truly going off the deep end. 

Once he entered his Sixth year, Callum was very advanced in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms. These skills allow him to make his own money, much like Fred and George—but far more sinister. Using a mix of his ability to blend into any social situation, his disarming charm and sensual wit, and his acquired skills, to steal and deliver rare relics and forbidden contraband to his countless customers—his friends’ parents and family.

Personality:  

A true chameleon, able to blend and adapt not just his wardrobe but his entire personality to any/all situations he may find himself in. Whether it’s dressing up in his best robes to attend the annual Malfoy Christmas party or dressing down to the snug dark jeans and a black hoodie that he occasionally uses to break into any place he can’t charm his way into.

A master thief who can steal anything off/from anyone. While his fingers do their best work while turning you into a puddle at his feet, they can also steal a watch right off a person’s wrist while talking right to them. He takes pride in his work—even if nobody outside of his group knows he does it. 

Untrusting is an understatement. While Enzo may have his little black book of conquests, Callum has his own. Filled with pages of the jobs he’s done and complete with proof of payment as well as the exchange—just in case anyone gets the bright idea to short him on payment or betray his services. 

Manipulative on a level that matches Tom. You never know if he is being honest or not—which he finds incredibly amusing as he watches you try to figure him out. The way you don’t even realize that he’s wrapping you tighter and tighter around his long finger until it’s too late. The way you do absolutely anything he asks, thinking it will make him stay—that everyone else was wrong about him being incapable of love and your delusion that you are any different from the rest. Only to be left in pieces that he has no intention or desire to pick back up. Until he needs something from you again, that is. 

Physical Characteristics:  

Very tall—6’5”, an inch taller than Fred and George, and six inches taller than his fraternal twin, Ron. He has short Weasley-red hair and almond-shaped eyes that are a dark blue around the edge of his irises and morph into a steel-grey towards his pupils (central heterochromia). He is tall and toned—muscular but not as much as, say, Mattheo is. 

His dick is long (8’) and thick, with a Jacobs’ ladder on the underside of his shaft—making you count all seven bars as he slowly stretches you to accommodate him, all with a gaze that makes you think that maybe, just maybe, he might think of you as something more than a cock sleeve.  

Habits: 

He doesn’t smoke weed often—mostly at parties in the common room when he has no business arrangements to take care of and has time to breathe. 

He hates being drunk. Not because he can’t handle his liquor—but because of the numerous times Arthur would come home from a long day at the Ministry only to pop open a bottle and end up fighting with Molly about their countless kids they can’t afford and when it was really bad, end up dragging Callum by his collar out to the shed for whatever reason he could come up with—usually Callum’s quiet and reserved behavior, but on the nights Arthur got violent, Callum’s curiosity for things he has ‘no business’ meddling with. 

He’ll occasionally accept a drink to be polite in social situations that require it, but a minute later, the glass is in the hands of one of his friends who is more than happy to take it off his hands—usually Tom. 

True playboy. Being pansexual, he is open to sex with anyone he deems worthy of his valuable time. He never officially came out, but when a poor Ravenclaw boy left his dorm room in the early hours of the morning before dawn, hair tousled and barely keeping his fucked-out expression together, nobody batted an eye. Nobody was dumb enough to. 

Likes:

Loves to read and will spend hours with Tom in the library going through the restricted section as they work their way through the books and taking the information they need. 

He doesn’t play Quidditch, although he enjoys the game. However, he will make suggestions or comments about his friends’ performance after a match—whether they’re welcome or not. 

Equally loves both tits and ass. I mean, how could you possibly ask him to choose between that girl’s perfect tits and that guy’s plump ass he just wants to bury his cock into? It’s more cruel than his father, really.

If Callum were to fall in love, it would have to be someone who challenges him. And not in the playful, ‘pick me’ way where you always let him win. No. It would have to be someone who challenges the very core of his being. Someone who actually makes him have to think about his answer before he gives it. 

Male, female, non-binary, etc. None of that matters to him. You may not be pansexual, and that’s okay—he doesn’t care about your sexual preferences either, so long as you never judge him for his. 

Actually quite enjoys the prank boxes that Fred and George come up with—though he’d never admit it to another living soul. He’s never used them, but he’s pondered all of the ways the items could be manipulated to suit his desires. 

Dislikes:

His family—Ginny, is the only exception, given that she was too young to remember the worst of the abuse he endured, actually treating him with kindness as she secretly shares his younger curiosity for the Dark Arts.

Manipulative people—ironic, I know. But there has always been an unspoken rule between himself and his friends—never manipulating each other. But pretending to be into the things he is into in an attempt to manipulate his emotions will only end in humiliation. 

Example: Lavender Brown. The girl who thought she could go from one brother to his twin in an effort to make Ron jealous. While he may not like his twin—you don’t manipulate his family. That right is reserved only for him. And when Lavender tried to use Callum as a pawn? She ended up on her knees in the center of the courtyard with a blind fold on her eyes and lips parted wide as she begs for his cock, only for the blindfold to be ripped away as the surrounding students laughed.

Friends:

Tom Riddle—his best friend and closest confidant. The only person in the entire world that he trusts completely without question. Often assisted by his best friend on robberies that require more than two hands.��If there is one person in this world that Cal actually wants but can't have; it's Tom Riddle.

Mattheo Riddle—Tom’s own twin brother who is more than happy to be a wingman or distraction to the unfortunate soul’s friends that Cal has set his eyes on for the evening. And unlike his brother, the person Callum trusts the least to keep a secret because Mattheo is incapable of keeping his yap shut—especially around Theo. 

Theodore Nott—the only other person who will stay sober (from alcohol) during a party just so they can have a somewhat intelligible conversation over a joint or a few cigarettes.

Draco Malfoy—his second closest friend and the resident drama queen of Slytherin. And the only person that Callum will let talk his ear off about how his clothes weren’t tailored just right, or how some insipid first-year spilled pumpkin juice all over his new robes as if it’s the worst thing that could ever happen in Wizarding history. 

Lorenzo Berkshire—bottom to the stars and Callum’s favorite fuck. With a mutual understanding that it will never be more than friends, Enzo is his favorite to fuck. The way his lips part so damn pretty as unintelligible whimpers manage to slip past the moans he makes—fuckk. It’s enough to drive anyone wild.

Blaise Zabini—don’t tell him, but Callum would 100% fuck his mother if Blaise wouldn’t cut his dick off in his sleep. Something Blaise made very clear when Mattheo voiced the same thought in a drunken stupor. Besides that, Blaise is the one who always has just the right thing to say—even if it’s not what you want to hear. Scratch that—especially when it’s not what you want to hear. Simply because you need to hear it.

Goal in life:

While Tom’s ultimate goal is power—Callum’s is control. The need that drives the deepest parts of himself. There is no such thing as disorder or dysfunction when it comes to Callum—one of the many reasons he and Tom are so close. Every move is premeditated, every touch intentional, and every record of every job he’s ever done is written neatly in the little black book he keeps under his mattress. 

Ready to rule by his best friend’s side with precise control, Callum will do anything for control. He isn’t above using a curse or two to make his demands a reality—but often enough, he never needs to use it. His charm and siren-like seduction can and have reduced almost everyone to their knees. 

Almost.

(Are we looking at a potentially more explosive story than Albus and Gellert?)

Elle thinks so. 🫦

Taglist @joelmillerdilf @stanley83 @lonely-isthe-muse @k-kizkhalifa @erika5373919882920 @willowlovestheweasleys @celestia-ihardlyknowher

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©️ Elle's Cove (allthesmutl0vers) 2025 I do not give my permission to copy, print, translate, or repost my work.

[raayllum]

So what's the Mirrored Trio Theory?

The Mirrored Trio theory is, for lack of a better explanation, a two pronged theory regarding the way the main trio will parallel both the generation that led to / immediately received Aaravos upon his fall (himself, Leola, and a speculative human who may or may not have been a mage / helped to found Elarion) and how they may also parallel the Orphan Queen, Jailer, and Aaravos yet again. So put your tinfoil hats on and strap in because it's going to be a speculation heavy one, lads! We're going to get deep in the weeds.

Fallen Trio

So the first trio we want to talk about is what I'm going to, for lack of a better term / meta simplicity, refer to as the Fallen Trio, consisting of Aaravos, Leola, and 'Elarion' — our stand-in for a potential human Aaravos had a close dynamic with that may be intertwined with the human city of Elarion.

First, I want to talk about Aaravos and Leola. We get our first mention of Leola in S5, specifically with Leola's Last wish being a star for both Xadians and for humans, who use it to navigate and "to find their way in the endless darkness of the night." This is fitting given that what we know of unicorns from the book one novelization — that they gave primal magic and stones to humanity out of mercy and compassion — and that Tales of Xadia singles her out further as the specific unicorn to do so, although it omits primal stones from the equation:

This is, of course, a big parallel between Leola and some details we know from Aaravos as well, who also gave gifts to humanity: the relic staff that Ibis identifies as truly belonging to Aaravos ("It was a gift from one of the Great ones" / "If you seek to return that staff to its true owner...") and, as Claudia says, dark magic:

However, there's also been indications that Leola might've been a Startouch elf (tweet from Aaron Ehasz identifying her as the Startouch child + the star on the star chart map, although it's not entirely clear), that star magic can be reality altering, that Startouch elf designs had unicorn like horns protruding from their foreheads, and that history can change and shape things differently than they necessarily were.

Either way, unicorns are one of the few creatures we know to also possess the Star arcanum and, seemingly like the Startouch elves, are all but gone from Xadia (+ the Pentarchy)'s physical plain. And that she, like Aaravos, were two Star(touch) beings who both wanted to help humanity and help them develop magic, but did so in very different ways. Whether they are literally related or the same species, I think this parallel between them means they're set up to have an almost sibling-esque bond — one that existed, and one that accordingly fell apart under the brunt of dark magic and other disagreements, as TDP is prone to do.

(Put a pin in Callum and Ezran for now, cause we're going to circle back to them shortly.)

Bare minimum, Leola and Aaravos will have to be foils if not contemporaries of each other, given the closeness of their original goals in manifestation, regardless of motivation. This is particularly true given that Aaravos preys on mages in particular and that dark magic (plus a little Star magic, maybe?) allows him to literally possess people who have done dark magic, which can be no happy accident.

Given that Leola seemed dead set on giving humans primal magic, it seems unlikely she might've been too keen on a dark magic, alternative development either, which we know came after, thanks to Ripples.

It happened long ago, when humans had only just learned to hold fire in their hands without burning. They nurtured their precious primal flames secretly—in the dark of night, beneath shadows and shrouds—as cultivating its glow drew the eyes and ire of monsters. Eventually, for the audacity of their fire, they were hunted, and—though they looked to the stars for salvation—the stars, too, looked down upon them with disdain. Humanity had been given something it was never meant to have.

So again, you have two characters with very similar goals/desires, but very different ideas of how to achieve said goals. This one of the reasons why, I think, that TDP loves to have siblings disagree, as it's an effective way of having more worldviews on display with some hope for reconciliation or the tragedy of deterioration, or both. Callum and Ezran stand alone as the one sibling pair that hasn't been terribly wrenched apart by political or ideological disagreements thus far, save for Sarai and Amaya, who were torn apart by Sarai's death.

Which brings me to my next point: if Aaravos and Leola had a sibling like bond, did he lose her to their potential ideological disagreements, or did those disagreements actually cost her life?

Whether Leola just walked away and likewise abandoned him (like Soren), became too distant in disagreement to continue having some sort of bond (like Harrow and Viren, and Janai and Karim), flat out died (like Khessa, Harrow, and Sarai), or all three, that could be one of the many cogs motivating Aaravos to keep turning the wheel of the cycle, as grief has often been the primary motivator throughout history, even amongst the 'villains'. A "song of love that loss" that Aaravos has chosen handpicked "instruments" for, after all (4x03, 4x04).

And like I said, Callum and Ezran are long over due to have a disagreement, given that they haven't had a substantial one since season one, and given that Ezran has grown to only be more assertive than he was since then, not less. This could easily be over Runaan (Callum, having already sworn himself to helping Rayla free her parents, and Ezran, understandably holding onto anger and grief concerning Harrow's death). I'm sure there are also plenty of other things they could heavily disagree over in the future, like military aid or action or how to approach trying to defeat Aaravos, etc.

The point to all of this is that I think Ezran could be a very good stand in for Leola — at least in terms of being selfless, deeply compassionate, uncomplicated, and adamant about giving people their freedom even at the cost of themselves and even if that gift can be misused or discarded (3x04) — which means Aaravos could offer a potential parallel to Callum in the sibling split. Aaravos, who turned to dark magic as an option regardless of or precisely because of the potential violence, and Callum, who argues for the Nova Blade whereas his brother still always champions a non-violent route thus far.

After all, TDP loves to have their "person A is estranged from their sibling and is determined not to lose their lover" parallel, given that it's happened four times (Harrow, Viren, Sarai; Viren, Harrow, Lissa; Claudia, Soren, Terry; Janai, Karim, Amaya) already.

Now, this could be wildly off base as we know very little about Leola and even less about her potential dynamic with Aaravos, but if we follow along with the idea that Ezran could parallel her and Callum could parallel Aaravos, I think now maybe we can talk about Elarion and Rayla.

Years ago we learned that there was a place on Xadia's map (both sides) that was named after someone who had a deep connection to him, and that many of his choices are based around this relationship. Given the Midnight Star poem, people defaulted to Elarion ("Elarion, black-eyed child / her twisted roots spread deep and far / The humans’ might sparked by the light / of Aaravos, her midnight star") although I've also considered Kalik.

And while I'm still not unconvinced that Elarion isn't just a name like Elara and Laurelion, before Aaravos changed his name, combined, I do think Elarion has to be important in Aaravos' backstory, and that it's more than likely that a founder of Elarion / a human involved with Elarion for a variety of reasons.

For starters, while we can be told that Aaravos had a soft spot for humans at one point, giving us a specific person or dynamic to think of is helpful in regards to emotional investment, and in helping to explain why he may have developed said soft spot. We also know, thanks to a birthday post years ago, that a human once gave him a gift:

He thinks that if he cared for the idea [of birthdays], he’d like to remember the taste of a smooth red fruit a human had plucked from a tree for him, once. It had been so crisp, and so sweet.

While this could've been the Orphan Queen (we do know, thanks to 1x01, that there's a tree planted in the castle courtyards 300 years ago, but we don't know it was an apple tree), an apple transfer like this one feels far more "Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden and knowledge isn't always a Good thing" type schtick. Not only does it seem to indicate a more intimate bond, it also might foreshadow the reason Aaravos Fell.

One of the most interesting, but perhaps more discreet, reasons I think there's a connection between 'Elarion' as a person and Aaravos is because of the nature motif running between what little we know of Elarion and to do with Aaravos' mirror and appearance motifs. The Midnight Star is riddled with flower and nature symbolism, referring to it as a "trembling seed" and "fading bloom," that "her roots took hold" and later became "twisted," and that before the gift of Aaravos, she was "wilting" with "bone-white branches". And Aaravos' mirror and the box that held his matching key have blooming flowers on it.

See the flowers along the bottom on the actual frame of the mirror, then sculpted along the sides, and the top? Yeah. We also know that flowers themselves, thanks to Tales of Xadia, are featured in a story told both in Katolis and amongst the Moonshadow elves in particular, featuring an elven thief who steals what you value most, leaving only flowers in their wake. This is the only story in all of Tales of Xadia that we see two cultures share, even if they interpret it wildly differently.

Flowers that were always gone by morning, and gifts that couldn't be accepted or understood ("I’ve got one more gift for you, Callum: I'm going to keep you safe. I have to. I love you too much not too [...] Taking on hard choices and going to dark places is an act of love. It’s a gift. So, please let me give you this gift, Callum. Stay safe, and stay in the light").

We also know that whoever Aaravos loved, he inevitably lost whether due to time or tragedy. While this form of grief is one the show has explored, it was previously largely only through Harrow, who mourned Sarai for 9 years upon losing her, and who avenged her by slaying Avizandum, and more briefly through Ethari believing Runaan was dead.

That was, until season four, where Callum grieving Rayla and dealing with the fallout of that grief and distance turned it into more of an accentuated plot point, both before and even after her return.

Before, losing your partner in this manner would've been something Callum had witnessed, but not experienced. Now, whether the show wants Callum to sympathize with Aaravos or not, it is an experience that they could both understand, particularly if it is going to be one of Aaravos' main motivators.

Thus, we have a disagreement set up between 'siblings' (Leola, Aaravos; Ezran, Callum) as well as lost love (Elarion, Aaravos; Rayla, Callum) as a big motivator for choices, grief, and what possibly led to the fall. That Aaravos, at least in practice / thematic lineups, being a Callum who lost his Rayla and his Ezran*, and then lost himself.

Therefore:

Aaravos — Callum

Leola — Ezran

Elarion — Rayla

[ * This is not to say that Callum would pull an Aaravos and go on a hellbent 1000+ year revenge scheme, because he's not like that, but I do think it could be a very poignant and apt parallel of giving him and Aaravos more in common than they currently have, which is about nothing but magical curiosity and connection. ]

However, 90% of this is all speculation of things that have been kept supremely under wraps. For something a little more tangible simply because we have slightly more information, let's talk about the

Imprisonment Trio

The Imprisonment Trio, as the name implies, refers to the two humans who seemed to directly (the Jailer) and potentially indirectly (the Orphan Queen) be involved in imprisoning Aaravos (the third in this trio). This time, however, I'm going to argue that Aaravos — in terms of his imprisonment — is going to parallel someone other than Callum, but we shall see.

To start, I want to look at the Jailer and the Orphan Queen, since their parallels to Callum and Ezran respectively are the most obvious.

We don't know for sure whether the Jailer came from Katolis, but we know that the Orphan Queen did, eventually taking on the throne from the previous royal family and starting Harrow and Ezran's royal line, first hinted at in 3x05 with "Only orphans can ascend to the throne". Ezran has been directly compared to her in both role and appearance by the show's framing and by characters like Rex Igneous in 4x08: "I should have seen it before. Long ago, it was a human who saw through the Fallen Star's schemes and helped Xadia put an end to them. You look so much like her." This plays well into Ezran's tendency to discover or unearth long lost things, most notably Zym's egg, just as the Orphan Queen became the Truthteller of Aaravos' treachery.

Callum, for his part, is a human mage, just like the Jailer. He's clever, very talented with magic, and despite being Aaravos' preferred prey as a mage will ultimately — like the Jailer — play a role in his defeat. He will also work with and for the archdragons and their wills, but has no problem being disobedient either, in the name of concern or mercy, much like how the Jailer kept Akiyu alive rather than tell the archdragons the truth. And like the Jailer, he understands the potential danger of knowledge: "The entire world would be in danger if she let him live with this knowledge" / "I need you to kill me."

Like the brothers, they were a (future) royal and mage working together, starting off what perhaps was a long tradition of Katolian monarchs having high mages. If, as often theorized due to having an Aaravos-y twin box (S2 novelization) and his love of puzzles, Kpp'Ar is indeed descended from the Jailer, that adds another layer onto Kpp'Ar being one of Callum's predecessors as High Mage. While Ezran has the job and the bloodline of the Orphan Queen, Callum would've more directly inherited the position of (high) mage from the Jailer's thematic and occupational line.

Granted, there are differences. Most notably, the Key of Aaravos was given to Callum, not to Ezran, although there could be potential future parallels between the brothers and the Sunfire siblings, with Karim unable to undo Kim'Dael's chains because his sister is still queen, and the brothers needing to work together to fully use the cube. I wouldn't be surprised if Ezran learns more about the cube and the Orphan Queen in S6 while Callum still has some unknowns to its true meaning, leading to some delicious dread and dramatic irony. But I digress.

The point is that the Jailer and the Orphan Queen both had their roles to play in imprisoning Aaravos, and that Callum and Ezran, respectively, will both have their roles to play in trying to keep Aaravos contained, only to inevitably somehow fail in a way that allows him to escape, if by another's hand. We do know the brothers will be going to weird ruins in a future season thanks to some out-of-context spoilers that have yet to pass, and the Ruins of Elarion would certainly fit:

Which, just like the out-of-context spoiler card, you might've noticed that I haven't mentioned Rayla and who she's going to be paralleling yet. Well, that's because this time / generational pass around, I think she's going to be the primary foil to Aaravos.

Now, this train of thought isn't new by any means. I've thought Rayla paralleled Aaravos reasonably well since S3 aired largely due to their status as ghosted/banished elves, a compassion for humans (at least implied for Aaravos) that other elves disapproved of, and their dynamics with Callum and Viren, respectively.

Both Rayla and Aaravos have to work to earn their high mage's trust ("And should we trust you? Have you told us the truth about everything?" / "And why should I trust you?") over the course of season one for Rayla and season two for Aaravos, ending in promises of allegiance and togetherness: "You've got to stay with me" / "I will stay with you" (2x09). Aaravos leads Viren to his doom in being tackled off the Pinnacle, and Callum throws himself off the Pinnacle after Rayla.

You can imagine my delighted surprise, then, when S4 simply cranked it up even further: Rayla was hunting Aaravos' mage ("I spent two years hunting"), and Aaravos was hunting Rayla's mage ("Yes, mages were his prey"). Rayla wants to protect Callum and kill Viren, and Aaravos had promised to save Viren and use Callum. Even for Callum himself, 4x04 and 4x07 seemed like clear set up for Rayla symbolizing agency in Callum breaking free from Aaravos' control someday, putting the two in literal opposition to each other. Two potential paths (although picking Rayla, at least at first, may not be mutually exclusive from picking Aaravos).

Rayla, who was also harshly punished by Xadia with no trial.

This isn't to say that Aaravos didn't do anything wrong and is being unjustly punished — far from it — or that Aaravos' imprisonment and subsequent freedom won't have parallels to anyone else like say, Callum, who will likely be imprisoned by Aaravos through possession in S6 and ultimately freed by Rayla. More so that imprisonment of different sorts has been a running theme throughout Rayla's arc, and that Callum — who is primed to be Aaravos' chain breaker, whether through possession or not — could also be hers (if not just her parents') the way he has routinely been in the past, whether it was from instigating the events that eventually led to her binding (chain) coming off or saving her from being emotionally stuck (3x08) or from doing anything for her freedom (5x01, 5x08). He's primarily been someone who is tethered to freedom when it comes to recognizing and breaking cycles (chains of history) or literal restraints, and it's only in season four and season five that he's shifted to being both tied to freedom and having himself restrained.

I've speculated in the past this may result in Callum (and Ezran) leading to Aaravos' release in order to save/free Rayla; however, the show may not want as much of a repeat from 5x08, and freeing the Moon fam from the coins also resulting in Aaravos' freedom through an escalation of events would also keep that ironic thread, so it could really go anywhere.

Two humans, one elf, and endless tragedy, repeating and breaking cycles all at the same time. Ezran, discovering important info about his ancestor and possibly the Key; Callum, following in the Jailer's footsteps and unravelling the final puzzles of the prison and figuring out how to undo it; and Rayla, ghosted, banished, vying against Aaravos for the control and agency of his latest pawn who also happens to be the love of her life.

So for the Imprisonment Trio:

The Orphan Queen — Ezran

The Jailer — Callum

Aaravos — Rayla

In Conclusion

Is any of this something? I don't know, honestly. I think it's plausible, at least partially. I think it'd be neat. We know TDP likes varying intergenerational parallels and looking at how history repeats, whether that's directly through family (blood or not) lines, or by having repeating plot points (the dragon quartet, or Rayla being immobilized) and trials (Rayllum facing Sol Regem, much like Ziard, etc). We know there was someone Aaravos loved and lost, we know he's not above using what people want against them, and the connections between Ezran and the Orphan Queen are just Text at this point, although how they may manifest further, we don't know.

This is just one particular stab at it, and an examination of three of the series' most interesting (potential) trios. We'll simply have to see if anything here hit the nail on the head.

As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

—Dragons Out

[fanfic-lover-girl]

Feelings on the Di Angelo siblings

I actually loved the Di Angelo siblings in Titan's Curse. Bianca and Nico were so adorable! Especially baby Nico, so precious! Dark, broody Nico is fun and all, but my heart will always be soft towards hyperactive Nico who was ready to jump head first into the world of the gods. Plus, he was such a sweet little brother. Nico telling off Dr. Thorn for disrespecting his big sister was such a chad moment.

I wish we had the Di Angelo siblings instead of the Grace siblings.

I honestly don't get the deep hatred some people have for Bianca. I actually saw a teeny bit of myself in her, being an older sister myself. I don't have the expertise to make any arguments about Bianca being parentified or not. But Bianca obviously saw herself as responsible for Nico, given that they only had each other. Joining the hunters like she did was very inconsiderate of her brother and my heart breaks for Nico.

However! She loved her brother, her death is proof of that, but in my opinion, it was evident that she felt burdened by the responsibility of being the older sister. She was the one who kept bringing up their status as orphans and the poor girl was seconds away from fainting from stress over her introduction to the world of the divine. I can understand her wanting to be a part of a group where she did not have to deal with people depending on her.

At the end of the day, Bianca was a little girl who was borderline coerced by Artemis and Zoe (screw her, not sad she died) into joining the hunters.

I liked Bianca a lot. I found her attitude at the beginning of the book hilarious (poor girl) and I am sad that we will never see her full potential as a daughter of Hades. RIP Bianca. You deserved better. As an older sister with a younger brother, I feel your pain.

[saffron0v0]

YUANNNNNN !!!!! I LOVE HER SMILE !!!

Note: the poll is just for fun, i'm not hinting at a pt 2 so if you want to see this drawn... what can I say except: I'm sorry, chances i'll do it are far too low. I def won't mind if anyone decides to do it with whichever option.

[theworldofkree]

I love your story and your babies SOOO much, I am also in love with you version of Harpies!! Thank you so much for making them and letting us be apart of their world, it's the absolute best part of my life haha, I cant stop thinking about them I've had a ton of questions...can I ask more about a harpies life span, their mannerisms and mating rituals in general?

Do they dance like other bird in addition to presenting stuff? (I would give my kneecaps to see Kree attempt to dance for Clara <3) Are there cross breeds or different types of harpies? How are mating feathers made? Do harpies have to be a certain age to make them? If they get older and have no mate what happens, can they still make mating feathers? Are harpies more solitary or hang out in flocks? How strong are their family ties/bonds with each other, would you say their bonds are stronger then humans (since they mate for life unlike most humans) How many children do harpies have in their lifetime? What happens to orphaned Harpies? Is there any difference in mannerism in offspring depending on their parents coupling? Can I ask more about lesbian harpies? If Kree had been a female would Clara still have caught his attention? How would his life have been different if Kree was a female? Would he still be considered unattractive by his own kind?

Unrelated but I was curious, what happens if a human were to consume magia? would they get sick? or would it give them light magical properties?

Sorry about all the questions, I know it's a lot and only if you feel comfortable answering, I just really really love your lore and you, I can't wait for the comic!! Thank you again for including us in your beautiful world and precious characters! loveyouokaybye

That's a lot of questions! But I'll try my best to answer them.

Harpies can live up to 200 years old, so twice as long as humans do. Since they are people and not animals, they have various ways of trying to woo partners, but it's typical for the males to seek out the females and for the ladies to ultimately choose who becomes their mate. The process can involve dancing, gift giving, singing, showing off useful skills, etc. There are yearly festivals/celebrations held in spring to allow for males and females to meet and woo each other, but I honestly haven't dived too deep into what those entail.

Harpies tend to stick to their own species so there's not really any cross breeding with other magical creatures, but there's a large variety of bird-like traits within their own species like color and feather placement that makes harpies able to look very different from one another.

Mating feathers are made by focusing the magia within a harpy to one particular location of their body and infusing a newly growing feather with that power. Only adult, fully developed males can create mating feathers and they magically attach to their chosen mate in a place she/he chooses.

They can make multiple mating feathers, but once someone has accepted one, they lose the ability to, making harpies mate for life. It's possible for them to make mating feathers again if their partner dies, but most wouldn't want to. Harpies can spend their lives alone without mates if they choose, but since harpies stick with immediate family and kick out siblings/ children when they're old enough, it's a more dangerous life to live alone having to provide and fend for oneself. Harpies can make friends with others, but "flocks" aren't really a thing for them. Their family comes first always, but their partner is the most important of all.

I don't know if their familial bonds are 'stronger' than humans, I think that's a bit unfair since humans can love deeply. But they are less likely to hurt/betray/take advantage of the ones they love than humans since they mate for life.

Harpies can have many children in their lifetime and can have anywhere from 1-5 children every spring. Unfortunately, many harpy children don't make it into adulthood due to the dangerous areas they live. They get eaten, injured, and lost very often despite constant vigilance from their parents. Orphaned harpies simply don't make it unless they're old enough to fend for themselves or if they get adopted into another family, most likely by a mlm harpy couple.

I don't know about the mannerisms thing, they all have their own personalities that have more to do with their experiences rather than who their parents are. As for lesbian harpies, they're practically non-existent. Harpies are being actively hunted by humans, and females have the most dangerous job of being the family protector. They die young often and there’s much less of them around now than there used to be. If a female happened to be a lesbian, she would have a very difficult time finding another like her. Harpies also have a stronger, instinctual urge to breed than humans do, so they have a stronger inclination towards males naturally.

If Kree had been a female, he and Clara would have never met. He would have easily gotten a mate despite being smaller, and his lack of fancy colors or patterns would have been within beauty standards, since female harpies are typically duller.

Most humans get temporarily sick when consuming magical plants or animals and tend to stay away from them. The only ones who consume magia regularly are southerners who, over time, have built up a resistance to the ill effects of magia. They get sick because non-magical bodies are not equipped to process magia through them. But, if a human can get past the initial sickness, magia can have a preventative medicinal effect similar to eastern medicine.

Phew! I did it! Hope this all makes sense and helps you understand Kree's world a bit better. It's funny when folks like you seem more interested in my harpy culture than even I am, but it's super nice to see.

[sirenjose]

Analysis of White Sand Street Asylum - Part 1

Includes Full Character Analyses for: Freddy, Kreacher, Emma, Emily, Leo, Robbie and Dolores, Kurt, Ada and Emil, and Alice.

I have been forced to split this into 3 parts due to the length and number of images I've used for this. To prevent tumblr from forcing me to make this any more than 3 parts, I have cut back on the original number of images (mostly I just cut out the images of the deductions). Apologies in advance, but I hope this is still ok either way. If anything doesn't make sense, let me know.

Anyways, please enjoy~!

Robbie and Dolores were born to a “wealthy family” according to the post from Robbie’s release (https://twitter.com/IdentityVJP/status/1120251010042040320).

Their parents loved them based on Dolores’ recollection in Robbie’s 3rd letter, where they would “always give each of us a goodnight kiss before they tucked us in. And you would kiss on my cheek to wake me up in the morning”. Dolores also described their parents as “kind”, and implied their life was happy back then.

Unfortunately, this didn’t last forever. We don’t know what happened, but the White siblings lost everything, their home and their parents, in one night.

Robbie doesn’t understand what happened, though Dolores seems to, yet she is unable to explain the truth to Robbie, likely due to his young age. Dolores cares about Robbie more than anything else, who she sees as her “Precious Treasure”, but she is also hard on herself as a result and sees her inability to tell him what happened to their parents as a “failure” on her part.

As they lost both parents in 1 night, I doubt the cause of their deaths was natural. Maybe it was murder? That could match with Dolores being unable to explain that sort of concept to someone young like Robbie.

Though the fact they lost their house and seemingly all their possession and money, I wonder if there was a fire. Unless they only lost their house and possessions due to their parents’ deaths, but it could be seen as odd that their parents didn’t leave anything behind for them after their deaths or a will or anything. If they lost it all in a fire, that could be an explanation. (Though next question I wonder is if the fire was caused on purpose or accidental. Though an accidental fire could fit well enough on its own as it would provide an explanation for their parents not dying due to natural causes, dying at the same time, and how they could lose everything to become penniless orphans by the end).

After losing their parents, they are placed in White Sand Street Orphanage. This orphanage is run by Kreacher Pierson (who refers to the orphanage as “Sweet Home” or “Home, sweet home”).

Kreacher is someone who (based on his 1st letter and deduction summaries) grew up on the streets as an orphan, all on his own, from a young age. He was someone who was never “treated with sincerity and kindness”, especially not by the upper class, who were only ever disgusted by “rats” such as him. So Kreacher grew up without ever knowing love. Only hatred and disdain, causing him to learn that the only way he’d be able to survive was by relying on himself. It was a dog-eat-dog world that revolved around having enough money. He grew up learning that everyone was only ever out for themself. This is how he developed his hatred for the rich, and he decided, if they weren’t going to share any of their coins with a penniless orphan like himself, then he’d just have to take it for himself. It’s not like they needed it anyways. He saw plenty of people swimming in luxury that he’d never have. They could afford to share some with him, right?

This was how Kreacher became a thief. As a way to survive.

As we learn in his beta backstory: “Kreacher grew up in this cruel and realistic world, he followed the leader of thieves and endured various difficulties, training for a way to make a living”. He developed his skills in theft, all while becoming exceptionally “street-smart” with exceptional “survival instincts”.

No one would just give him their coin, even if he were to ask, and barely any if he begged. So, he learned to rely on deception as his only “way of survival”. No, what he was doing wasn’t good, but it was his only way at the time to keep himself from “dying from starvation or sickness on the streets”. And as he had to rely on this from quite a young age, it became the only life he knew.

Kreacher was managing to get by, though he had been caught and arrested for theft in the past.

Not wanting to go back to prison, Kreacher decides to change his methods. After earning people’s trust by making himself seem to be a “philanthropist”, he specifically adopts disabled orphans. He planned to use the kids’ disabilities “to gain sympathy” in order to profit even more than he’d been able to before via begging and stealing alone, while at the same time using the money to provide shelter and sustenance to the kids he’d adopted.

But Kreacher was a realistic person. He was someone who just did whatever he had to do in order to survive. As a result, he could be tough with the kids, and was implied to sometimes hit some kids that didn’t make enough money. This was likely the only way Kreacher knew how to ensure the kids did better next time. He knew the world was a cruel place, something they wouldn’t be able to survive unless they toughened up. He needed to develop their survival instincts as well as teach them how to be street smart. (Maybe Kreacher is the reason the kid in Robbie’s 2nd letter knew how to pry open a locked window with a knife. Maybe Kreacher taught them other skills like that.) Though at the same time, his actions were also due to a lack of any experience with love or kindness. He’s never had an easy life. He’s likely treating them that way because that’s how he was always treated and how he’s always had to live, and as a result, he doesn’t really know how to be gentle. As we’ve said, he’s had to learn to prioritize himself above everyone to survive. He’s never had to care for someone else, and so he doesn’t know how to do so with the kids. Even if did have concern for the kids, he likely wouldn’t even understand what those feelings were. What he does understand is survival and money, and he sees Dolores as a chance to make a ”fortune” due to her disability.

Robbie’s deduction 2 describes Dolores as “a girl who lost an arm”. Losing an arm is different than being born without one, so I wonder if Dolores lost it during whatever incident killed their parents?

There are instances where burn victims can require amputation if the damage goes deep enough, if the injury becomes infected, or if the limb was crushed in some examples.

(It is possible she was simply born that way. I just find the term “lost” odd if so.)

In the photo of Kreacher with the orphan kids, we can (most likely) identify Dolores, as she is the sole girl with a missing right arm. Since Dolores came with Robbie, it’d make sense for 1 of the children in the photo with her to be Robbie. We know Robbie is younger than Dolores, so a good guess would be either the kid with the missing ear next to her or the small child sitting on the ground. It’s hard to tell with this 2nd kid, but it looks like he has both hands but is missing at least 1 leg?

Robbie (looking at his default appearance) seems to only be missing his head, while all his limbs look intact. Considering when Robbie came back, his head was still missing, I imagine his default should be accurate to showing how his body was before his death. Otherwise, if coming back did supposedly restore any missing limbs he had previously, why not also restore his head somehow (rather than leave him headless)?

In which case, my best guess is that Robbie is the kid with the missing ear. The height would also match better with Robbie’s default compared to the smaller child.

(And if Robbie was only missing an ear, that would also fit with how we don’t see anything wrong with Robbie as we wouldn’t notice a missing ear with his whole head missing.)

Also, this kid with the missing ear is standing right next to Dolores. I know this same kid isn’t directly next to her in the other photo we have of Kreacher with the orphanage kids, but he is directly opposite her, on the other side of Kreacher and Father Duke, so it’s at least close.

This kid also looks similar, even though not the exact same (the kid has both ears), as the kid on the Milk Carton accessory that came from the charity event that Robbie’s Wail skin came from.

(Nothing says this kid is definitely Robbie, I’m just suggesting every potential theory/option.)

While at White Sand Street Orphanage, Robbie and Dolores are given no choice but to work. This is in part because Kreacher, even though he is the owner, is only a poor street orphan himself.

As Dolores was missing an arm, she was made to beg because that would make it “easier to pull on the heartstrings”.

Robbie though, despite being “such a crybaby” had “nothing wrong” with him. This does make me wonder if Robbie didn’t actually have any disabilities or missing limbs or anything, and could’ve been similar to the boy in the photo on the milk carton. If he didn’t have any issues like that, it could explain the comment about Dolores being able to pull on heartstrings but not Robbie. Unless the comment was just saying there basically wasn’t enough wrong with Robbie, not enough to make him as sad of a case as Dolores, and thus he could’ve still had an issue like a missing ear?

Robbie wasn’t assigned to beg. Instead he was tasked to “work in the yard”, where “gardening became his new hobby”.

In the Christmas Nocturne event, Robbie implies he chopped down trees for firewood, using an axe that was “even bigger than Robbie”. His backstory says Dolores helped Robbie get used to his tasks in the yard. I wonder if the axe was originally hers, or if it was just an axe that Robbie was given but Dolores taught him how to use. Though Robbie’s 4th letter does describe it as “her axe”, it may have only been described that way1 as she kept and used it after Robbie’s death.

If Robbie was too young to understand what happened to his parents, I question how good he really was chopping down an entire tree. It’s possible he just chopped branches off, or maybe only chopped down small enough trees. Or they already had small enough logs and Robbie just chopped it up into firewood.

Whatever the case, Dolores always told Robbie that he did a good job, which made Robbie happy. And as we know from Robbie’s 1st deduction, Dolores basically says that Robbie’s happiness “is the suffering I longed for”. She did anything she could to make Robbie happy, her “adorable brother”.

Life at the orphanage continued until the Church decided it wanted to be involved (likely due to the desire to also profit if not for the value of the kids for their experiments). Kreacher cooperated, likely in part because they pressured him but also in part probably because they offered some kind of benefit or financial compensation if he agreed.

This continues for a time, with the church partnering with him to hold events to raise money for the kids and the orphanage. The one he often works with from the church is Father Duke.

Eventually the church decides they wanted more and had Kreacher send over kids that were “diagnosed with mental illnesses” to their “mental institution” for “comprehensive treatment”. The reasoning stated in the letter they sent to Kreacher for why they did this was “Based on the need for cooperation with the government”. Whether or not the kids actually had any mental illness didn’t matter, the church got what they wanted.

“Letter to Mr. Kreacher Pierson:

Based on the need for cooperation with the government, the orphans who have been diagnosed as mentally handicapped should be sent to the Catholic Church’s Office of Ministries for unified care. For the well-being of the children, please be sure to send them to the abandoned church at 673 White Sand Street before May 5 to confirm their mental status.

Father Duke”

Despite several deductions using the term “mental institution” before we know the church created White Sand Street Asylum, it is likely this wasn’t actually a “mental institution” back then. The beta letter to Kreacher states the kids should be sent “to the catholic church’s Office of Ministries for unified care”, with the location being “the abandoned church at 673 White Sand Street”. Another of Kreacher’s later deductions uses the term “church clinic”, and this is likely the more appropriate description.

One of the children in the care of the church’s clinic that partnered with Kreacher’s orphanage was Emma. Back then, she was still using her original name: Lisa Beck.

Leo Beck, the owner of a small textile factory, and Martha Remington (aka Martha Beck) married on March 14th, 1874 in Devonshire and gave birth to Lisa on December 21st, 1876.

Freddy is a lawyer and financial advisor specializing in “non-performing assets disposal, mergers, and acquisitions” that Leo became business partners with. Due to working with Leo, Freddy encounters Martha, who he falls in love with. Leo, still unaware of Freddy’s feelings for Martha, invites Freddy to Lisa’s 1st birthday because of their partnership that eventually becomes friendship. Once Lisa is older, she mentions Leo invited Freddy over more than once, with Freddy “always bringing flowers”.

Freddy, being part of the middle-class, was likely born into a not too badly off family, though not a rich one. Likely enough to live at least semi-comfortably compared to the lower classes. That’s likely why he was able to pay to attend school to become a lawyer. Despite this, none of his family are ever mentioned, which makes me wonder if they were a bit distant, potentially focusing on themselves or their own work rather than caring or showing much meaningful love to Freddy. In any case, Freddy still had high hopes. His social status and education had given him confidence, and he had high hopes for his future, with his goal always being to earn money and wealth (he was a “gold digger”). He might’ve thought things would be easy since his deduction 4 says “People tend to trust hard-workers. You need to seem hard working, at least”.

Despite his friendship with Leo, Freddy had fallen hard for Martha, who he saw as completely perfect and someone he couldn’t live without.

We know he wrote love letters to her frequently, including one in 1878 that shows just how head over heels he was for her. His desire to be with her despite the fact she was already with Leo was already very strong back then.

“Martha:

You said that you fear I can’t give you the sort of love you hope for? My beloved lady, I swear on Gowd’s name that my love for you has no reservations.

My love for you burns so brightly that day and night, I am unable to sleep. When I think about your family, my heart suffers from the flames of envy. When will you be able to reciprocate my feelings?

Loving you

Freddy Riley

1878”

This love doesn’t go away. His desire only burned brighter over time. Especially as Martha likely did return some of it, and if Freddy did grow up without being shown much love, he likely latched onto it like a starving man to food. This could be backed up by how Freddy in his diaries says “What do people do for love? Fresh flowers, love letters, vows, marriage. I made fun of it all in the past. Until I met you, Martha. After which, all of my principles, all my dignity, completely vanished.” This seems to imply Freddy looked down on and didn’t believe in the concept of “love”, which likely has several implications about his own family and how he grew up.

It makes me wonder if Freddy’s initial disregard towards love was because of his parents. Maybe his parents had a falling out, maybe they didn’t truly love each other, or maybe even 1 of them cheated on the other, which could explain why Freddy would mock even concepts like “vows” and marriage. Maybe his parents even divorced.

In any case, any of these sort of ideas would explain why Freddy’s parents are non-existent in his backstory as well as why he felt the way he did about love initially, not to mention if his parents weren’t happy with each other, or if they did cheat or at least didn’t have a happy marriage, that could imply Freddy wasn’t shown much love, and thus why when he did finally encounter someone he loved, why he might fall so far for that person.

Freddy was blinded by love as well as jealousy over Leo, someone he saw as beneath him due to Freddy’s feelings of “class superiority” (according to Freddy’s 3rd letter). Yet despite this, Leo had a more successful and happier life than Freddy, which leads to him developing deep resentment towards Leo and eventually to begin planning a way to have Martha all to himself.

I wonder if it’s possible the reason why Freddy might see what he’s doing as ok could have been because of his own parents, as in if they really did break their marriage vows or even cheat on each other despite their marriage. Maybe that could be partially why Freddy didn’t care as much that Martha was already married.

We know Freddy continued to woo Martha, before eventually proposing to her. This happened some time before Lisa had even turned 8 or 9 years old. We know Freddy didn’t force Martha, only tried to win her over. Martha obviously was tempted, which leads to her and Leo arguing more and more. Lisa said that her mother told Leo that his “clothes were always dirty”, while Freddy was always a clean looking “young gentleman with a suit and shiny hair”. Leo was the owner of a small factory, while Freddy was a financial advisor (and potentially of a higher class based on Freddy’s 3rd letter mentioning his feelings of class superiority). Considering Freddy saw himself as part of a “superior” class, I wonder if him being part of a higher class was partially why Martha was temped (why else call Leo “dirty”, especially when she’d been living with him for some time and knew why he was “always dirty”).

Leo doesn’t comment though. He knew just as well as Martha that this wasn’t something he could help since he had to work at his textile factory. It never bothered him though. All that mattered was taking care of his family. So he let Martha criticize him without saying any such harsh words back at her.

According to the Christmas event, Emma didn’t really understand who Freddy was, referring to him as “that man” that she “didn’t like”, as well as “an uncle who wore glasses” that her mother took her with one time to see a play. Freddy was likely the one to take Martha to see the play as part of him trying to be with Martha. Emma said she “didn’t really get it and I wasn’t in the mood anyway”, with her main concern that she wishes Leo had been there with her.

Considering Leo’s failure to attend, it is possible he knew Martha was spending more and more time with Freddy. Leo was a trusting man, so I don’t think he even allowed the thought that Freddy was doing this to win Martha over from him. He didn’t like it, but I don’t think he could ever tell her no. Even though they were arguing at this time, I believe he still wanted her to be happy, and hoped with some time apart after their argument, things would get better.

Some time before the proposal, Freddy (as a financial advisor partnered with Leo) suggests to Leo that he invest in Minerva Arms Factory. Martha was concerned and asked for Freddy to be honest regarding whether this was a “good investment plan”, to which Freddy responds by saying “if the investor had sufficient experience and capital, this would bring him immense wealth”. Martha initially trusts him (though still believes it would be better Leo didn’t invest in the arms factory).

It's at this point that Martha leaves Leo and Lisa. It is also described as a “secret departure” with the description “Leave before they notice and maybe then you can avoid heartbreak”. Before leaving, the last word she says to Lisa is “sorry” (she likely saw her mother before she could completely sneak away, probably when Leo was working before he could return). This to me, combined with her actions, shows us that Martha didn’t love Lisa nearly as much as Leo did (or rather that there were other things she loved more).

She does leave a letter for Leo, informing him of what she was doing even though “I know I'm about to do something really bad”.

In her goodbye letter to Leo, she says “For the sake of Lisa, however, please consider carefully the investment we debated” and tells him she hopes “you will make a wise decision”. If they “debated” this topic before, and Martha is saying to consider it carefully for Lisa’s sake, I wonder if that was part of the reason why Leo and Martha were “quarreling”. Maybe Leo was arguing that he believed he should invest in the factory while Martha tried to argue against it, and their arguing over it was part of the reason Martha decided to say yes to Freddy.

Near the end of her letter, she tells Leo “Take care of Lisa, and find a more suitable woman for yourself” (find a “more suitable woman for yourself” makes me wonder as to the meaning of these words. Considering Freddy sees himself as of a “superior” class, maybe she means “suitable” as in someone of a more appropriate class for Leo, while she wanted to be with the higher class. Or maybe she’s saying suitable because, just like how she’s doing something bad, she wants him to find a woman who is more faithful than she is). Then, just like with Lisa, she tells him “I’m really sorry” (I wonder how sorry she really is because, if she truly meant those words, would she still have left them?).

Even more symbolic is how she closes the letter with “Martha Remington” instead of “Martha Beck”.

In any case, Martha is gone, leaving Leo and Lisa to fend for themselves.

Based on how Martha describes Leo as someone who “wasn’t smart” and “didn’t have any investment experience, not to mention capital”, I wonder if Leo was someone who grew up without a formal education like Freddy had. Leo may have been more of a self-made man, someone who might’ve come from a poorer, simpler background but managed to make a living due to his personal characteristics and hard work. He wasn’t a rich man, only the owner of a small textile factory, but he was happy and made the most of it.

We know from Emma during the Christmas Nocturne (2020) event that Leo was good with his hands, as we learn he used fabric from his textile factory to make her dolls (including 1 of Emma herself). He’d made 2 “bodyguards” for her doll, but Emma says she was never able to see them (likely the 2 dolls Leo uses in game, and Emma likely didn’t see them because that may have been when she was sent to the orphanage or when Leo died).

We can see from Leo’s accessories that he’s made her other toys as well (including a slingshot and a hot air balloon model). The descriptions for these accessories tell us that Leo loved Emma. She was his world, and he’d do anything for her.

The Christmas event informs us of the same thing. Emma tells us that she’d always get 2 presents from him on Christmas. 1 was her birthday present, on December 21st, and another was a Christmas present, but he’d hide her birthday present until Christmas, and put both of them under the tree for her.

For the last Christmas Emma had with her father, he told her “this little tree of yours will be filled with so many presents next year that I won’t be able to see your little face”, which shows how much he wanted to do for her (if he’d been able).

We don’t know how long Leo and Lisa lived on their own, but we do know Leo did end up buying the Arms factory, and it was some time after doing so he learned that the factory had an over “4-figure debt”. Even Martha in her letter to Freddy says, despite how “Leo wasn’t smart”, she states “Yet even the dumbest person knows not to spend money to take on extra debts”, which tells us Freddy, who knew about the factory’s debt, purposefully hid this fact from Leo. This is evident as Freddy, in his deduction “Covert Jealousy” mentioning how he cut Leo out of the picture of him with Martha and Lisa, states “He should disappear from here or not appear before my eyes again”, while the very next deduction about the Factory and its debt is titled “False Affection”, with the description including “Lend a helping hand for greater profit, not brotherhood.”

We know Leo did what he could despite the debts, as Emma during the Christmas event says he sometimes came back with a “semi-finished gun made in his factory”. Emma didn’t like the guns, instead preferring the dolls Leo used to make, which he likely stopped doing once he’d incurred the debt from the factory (I wonder if he had to sell the textile factory to try to help pay off the debt for the arms factory).

Lisa seems to have occasionally gone with him to the arms factory, potentially because he couldn’t leave her at home by herself or because he had to work extra long in an attempt to pay off the debt.

This debt puts an incredible strain on Leo, which causes him to begin to change from the person Lisa originally remembered him as. He starts drinking (to forget the pain and sorrows of reality) as well as selling items from their home (to help pay off the debt. He also might’ve “destroyed” items that used to belong to Martha in drunken fits of rage). Lisa describes her emotions at that time as “I don't know what has happened, but this feeling is awful”.

Unfortunately, Leo is no longer capable of caring for Lisa due to the fact he is drowning in debt, especially now that he’s begun spending some of their money on drink. As a result, he’s forced to send her to an orphanage while she’s around 8 years old.

We know Leo married Martha in “Devonshire”, meaning that’s also where they likely lived. Freddy’s business was also in Devonshire, with the specific stress being “583 White Sand Street, Devonshire”.

This means Leo and Freddy lived close by (and I imagine Leo’s textile factory wasn’t too far away either). It also means that they lived on the same street as Kreacher’s orphanage, which was “13 White Sand Street”. Kreacher’s advertisement says this is the “first orphanage on White Sand Street”, and if he was the first and thus only one on the street, it’d make sense that Emma wouldn’t have much choice but to be sent to his.

Sometime after Lisa was sent to the orphanage, Leo sets the Arms Factory on fire. Based on the fact that Leo’s 3rd letter takes place on December 21, 1897 and the fact it says Leo has been experimented on for 10 years, with the experiments on Leo likely starting right after the factory fire, the fire itself had to have started on December 21, 1887, on Emma’s 11th birthday.

According to a letter he sent to Lisa before this (Leo’s 2nd Letter), we know Leo intended to have Lisa receive the insurance money from the factory fire, as she is listed as the “beneficiary of compensation”. He basically explains in the letter his desperation to find “another way to make money”, as nothing he’s been able to do as been enough to settle the debts. Though as we never hear about Emma receiving this money, it’s possible there was an issue (such as she wasn’t of age yet).

Despite what he’s about to do, we can see once again that Leo is doing everything for her. He still worries about Lisa being fed enough and being kept warm. He also reassured Lisa so she didn’t think that she was “unwanted”, and informed her that her mother leaving had nothing to do with Lisa herself. He ends by warning her “not to trust people too easily. Live for yourself. You won’t get lucky by being nice. It took Father too long to learn this lesson”. This seems to show Leo has realized that Freddy tricked him, as well as show Leo changing further to no longer be the kind, trusting person he once was. Considering he calls himself a “useless Father”, this tells us how Leo feels about himself regarding his inability to sufficiently care for his daughter, as well as proves what his primary concern has always been.

Despite the fire, Leo survives but hides while he recuperates, making everyone think he’s dead. Due to the fact one of the walls says “I will find you” as well as based on Leo’s deduction summary stating he “brewed his own revenge plan”, we know Leo’s focus right now is to get revenge on Freddy.

At some point before he can do so, he was taken to Sacred Heart Hospital and used as an experiment. These experiments included memory erasure, forcing him to forget so Leo would stop getting “uncontrollably excited” on Emma’s birthday to ensure the “daily experiments” went more “easily”. Leo’s 3rd letter states that the experiments went on for 10 years. Whether Orpheus was the one to take Leo or not, we know Leo was definitely used by Orpheus during Emma’s game to punish those who broke the rules, as well as used as the hunter for Emma’s game. And considering some “mysterious man learned that ‘Cinder’ is alive and where he can be found”, someone that has been “writing more frequently these days”, a someone that is male based on “his probing”, it is more likely Orpheus is this other person that found out Leo was alive and likely blackmails the one who does currently have Leo to have him handed over (to Orpheus and the manor). Which just leaves the question of who is the author of Leo’s 3rd letter and the one who’s been experimenting on him for 10 years, which I’ll get into shortly.

Next: Asylum Analysis Part 2

(End: Asylum Analysis Part 3)