#also it doesn’t matter if you are bigger he’s got that demon strength and could definitely do this no matter what you weigh

[mammon-s]

Thinking about struggling to ride Mammon so he just grabs your hips and fucks you on himself

You start off whining and trying as hard as you can to bounce on his cock, but your thighs are burning and you collapse on his chest crying about how it’s too much and you can’t do it.

He kisses the top of your head as he puts his hands on either sides of your hips, “it’s ok treasure I gotcha.” He says softly as he lifts you up and slams you down on himself causing you to cry out.

You grip his shoulders tightly, digging your nails in as he continues to fuck you on himself, using you as his own personal cock sleeve until he cums inside you with a loud moan.

#i lowkey hate this but oh well I wanted to write something #and I like this idea I just didn’t do it well #also it doesn’t matter if you are bigger he’s got that demon strength and could definitely do this no matter what you weigh #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #obey me mammon #obey me mammon smut

[ramzawrites]

Familial Love - Dad!Badboyhalo and Reader Part 1

GN

Pairings: none

Characters included: Philza, Wilbur, Technoblade, Tommy, Badboyhalo

Warnings: n/a

Series: only a two parter

Summary: Having mischievious kids who were interested about the nether, Philza thought it would be the smartest thing to bring his whole family togther into the other world, so he could keep his eyes on them and satisfy their curiosity. Besides, they all could collect some resources while being there, though once in the nether they find more than they bargained for. Bringing in BadBoyHalo who might be able to help with this delicate matter.

Words count: 2684

Authors Note: It was a request ages ago but I sadly lost it, now I’m using it to slowly get back into writing and I know I’m horrible when it comes to multiple chapter fics but I am already almost done with the second part though I have to heavily edit it since I forgot something important. I can’t promise I’m turning back into an upload every week but I’m going to slowly inch my way back to it. I would appreciate some feedback on this one since it’s been a while :)

Philza was fanning some air towards his face using his hand. This wasn’t really helping, of course. The air in the Nether was way too hot for that but he had no better way to deal with the heat that he was currently experiencing. He used to be better at that but he has been spending way more time in the Overworld as of late due to personal projects and having to raise three kids, hence why it took him a bit by surprise with how much trouble he seemed to have to adapt to this environment.

This was also mirrored by his oldest kid Wilbur, which made sense seeing how he only spend minimal time in the Nether, meanwhile Technoblade did fine and interestingly enough, while Tommy was obviously also uncomfortable in this heat, he seemed to be doing better than Philza and Wilbur. Techno was born in the Nether so while it might take a moment he had no problem getting used to this, but Tommy? It was his first time in the Nether so it was a bit surprising. Philza just chalked it up to him being younger and able to adapt faster.

“You sure you guys want to help find the materials?” Philza was looking at both Wilbur and Tommy, though his attention was primarily on Wilbur who was once again wiping away the sweat on his brow.

Both nodded but only Wilbur spoke “Yeah! It’s usually just you and Techno, we want to help out for once as well.”

Philza squinted his eyes, staring his son down “This is bullshit but I’ll take the help nonetheless. I’m sure you will also find the things you both are looking for, would be easier if you would just tell me outright what though.”

“You knew?”

Wilbur clasped his hand around Tommy’s mouth and pulled him closer “It’s fine, dad! We’ll be fine! We’re gonna get that blackstone and the wood in no time!”

He then proceeded to drag Tommy off who begun to angrily yell at Wilbur.

“Remember to stay close!” Phil tried to throw after them but it seemed to go unnoticed, which meant he needed to stay close to them and not the other way around.

“They’ll be fine.” Techno suddenly appeared next to him. An iron axe in his hands.

Philza sighed “ I hope. It’s Tommy’s first time in the Nether and Wilbur doesn’t spend a lot of time here. We have to make sure to stay close.”

Techno nodded, he too was worried about his brothers as well after all “They have some Enderpearls should anything happen and Wilbur will make sure to look out for Tommy.”

He was correct. Philza went over this with all of his sons a ton of times. Teaching them how to enderpearl away while falling and training their aim. He also made sure to tell them all of all the dangers that would await them here. Giving them enchanted bows that could one hit a Ghast.

There was no sense in dwelling on that for now though, hence why Philza hesitantly approached a red tree. His diamond axe soon burrying itself deep into the surprisingly soft wood. Not only is this wood beautiful if used correctly but this wood was also fire resistant which could be helpful for some of his other builds.

Techno was also already on it. He was younger than Wilbur and yet he already showed greater strength than him. Though this wasn’t surprising seeing how Techno was a Piglin Hybrid. They usually grow up pretty fast and were known for their brute strength.

With one swing of his axe he was already pretty deep into the tree. He was just a kid and yet he could keep up with Philza’s rate of cutting down these trees pretty well.

All the while Philza would make sure to run after Wilbur and Tommy. Cutting down the trees close to them. Always making sure that all of his three kids were in his peripheral view. They were still clumsy young children and every time they would even just stumble for a small second his heart would drop.

At times Wilbur and Tommy would try to coax Techno over to show off a cool looking mushroom. At first he was unsure, just wanting to help gather the few recourses that Philza needed but the more his brothers asked the bigger his curiosity got. It didn’t take long for him to join his brothers to look at all the interesting plants and other things they found. Philza just gave him a nod as a sign he is allowed to go after them.

Of course, as a worried father, Philza would still keep his eyes on them.

Honestly this was probably a horrible idea to bring them all with him. The Nether is just too dangerous for kids but also they were so curious! And mischievous kids who are curious about something specific especially when their father doesn’t allow them to approach it? That seems to spell disaster, so, in his infinite wisdom Philza thought it would be a good idea to bring them in with him for a really small outing. Nothing special. He even made sure the portal was in a good place and made it as safe as possible before he took his whole family in.

So when he suddenly heard a scream his heart figuratively stopped. He was so preoccupied with his worry that he didn’t notice how the kids left his view. Without hesitating Philza dropped the heavy axe and instead opened up his wings. With just a few beats of his wings he flew up into the air. Frantically looking around for his sons, hoping they haven’t gone further underground. It calmed him down that there weren’t more screams which could mean one of them just got scared for a second, or they are all already dead not having a chance to yell out again.

Realizing that thinking about this would only make it worse he begun to fully concentrate on the environment, calling out to his sons in the progress. Sweat rolled down the side of his face, this time not only due to the heat but also due to the fear that seemed to fester deep down in his heart and bones with every second he couldn’t find his family.

Then suddenly he saw something blonde. Thank the End Tommy had such an easy to spot hair color. And next to him were Wilbur and Techno, all three of them seemed to look at something laying on the floor. Philza couldn’t make it out from up in the air since the kids put all of their heads together above the item of interest. Either way they seemed to be alright.

As Philza landed close to them he put his hand against his heart “By Ender you guys scared me. Are you alright? I heard one of you scream and I couldn’t see you. Didn’t I tell you guys to stay close to me for that exact reason?”

He kept on rambling along, more out of nervousness and guilt but was stopped as Wilbur looked up, turned around and just stared at his father with a confused expression. In this confusion was a worry there that made Philza almost cautious. Something was wrong after all.

Techno and Tommy followed suit, all of them finally forming an opening so he could see what they were staring at.

On the hot nether ground there was a bundle. A bundle that slowly moved around.

Philza slowly approached it, soon noticing two horns poking out of this bundle. Wrapped in this dirty brown cloth was a baby. A baby with two horns on their forehead and shimmering skin. It looked like there was shimmering ink buried beneath the skin that was now happily dancing across. There was no glow to it and yet he couldn’t describe it differently. There was a shimmer.

This was a demon baby.

His eyes widened as he realized this, fatherly instincts kicking in as he scrambled to get that child off the ground. It was most likely fine seeing how they are a demon but in his mind right now he needed to get the child off the hot netherrack.

“Dad, whose is it?” Tommy stepped closer, pulling on his fathers long sleeve. While young he seemed to understand the implications of a frail small baby just lying around on the ground, understanding that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

And he was correct. In Philza’s life he has met demons only a couple of times but has already read a lot of texts on them. While they can live in either the Overworld or the Nether most get born inside the Nether and just like humans, they usually grow up with parents at their side. Parents that taught them how the world works and showed them how to control their magical prowess.

They got the name demon by their unnatural ability and affinity for magic. Being able to control the magic of an enchanting table like no other, able to read the enchantments and crafting new ones. Some even showed outside of enchanting abilities like summoning forth fire for example.

This child was orphaned. Maybe the parents died? He has never heard stories of demons abandoning their own kin, though only because he hasn’t heard it, this doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. He just knew that they took their kin seriously and it was in their eyes one of the strongest bonds that you can have. If a demon called you their kin? That is something special and honoring.

Philza looked the child over one more time. No wounds, no jewelry not anything that could tell him what has happened here or whose baby it is.

As his hand came across the cloth, trying to see if there might be anything embroidered on there the baby instinctively grabbed for his hand. Holding on to his pinky for dear life. Accompanied by a few babbling baby noises. Melting his heart in the process but it also pulled him out of his frantic thoughts.

The next few minutes he ordered his boys to scour the place a bit. Trying to look for any hints of the baby’s parents but there was nothing.

“So, what do we do with them?” Wilbur asked, standing on the tips of his toes as he tried to get a good look at the baby again. The dark horns was what really piqued his interest. Realistically he knew things like this were possible, seeing how his father hand black wings, but it still seemed so magical and impossible.

“Do we have, uh, a new sibling?” Techno asked. His cheeks turning into a soft shade of red as he asked. His eyes darting to the ground. He still wasn’t used to this even though he was adopted and a Piglin Hybrid he was very much a part of the family.

With wide and hopeful eyes Tommy looked up at Philza “I can be a big brother?”

Oh.

Philza wanted to agree. Wanted to tell them, to greet the new member to their family but he couldn’t. Not in good consciousness when he knew there was a better option. An option that would teach the kid what they needed. He couldn’t teach them anything about magic beyond enchanting tools with an enchantment table.

Besides he did know a demon. He met him only a couple of time, so they weren’t particular close but he knew how to reach him and this seemed to be by far the best and most fair option for this baby.

So, he shook his head. All three kids almost seemed shocked at that.

“Why?” Wilbur asked, his hand now holding onto the cloth that the child was wrapped in.

“Because I couldn’t give the child what they needed but I know someone else who can give the child a proper chance at life. Listen, you don’t need to understand yet but trust me as a father. Besides I’m sure we can visit them!”

This wasn’t enough for the children obviously. Asking more questions, trying to get a specific answer. Just repeating the questions.

“That’s enough! This is my decision and as your father and as the resident adult who actually has to take care of all of you, this is my decision. You’ll understand when you get older, I promise.”

Of course there was still some groaning and mumbling but the kids noticed that this was not something they could change Philza’s mind on. Didn’t mean they have to like that though.

With that Philza guided his family back into the overworld as fast as possible. Once back out the nether he made sure to see if the baby was dealing well with the sudden environmental change but they just kept on smiling and babbling which he interpreted as a good sign.

With the help of a long range communicator Philza managed to send of a message to said demon who in return managed to visit Philza after a day using the nether as a hub to travel faster. Seeing how he needed a full day to travel using the nether roof just showcased how far he actually was.

It was Wilbur who opened up the door to him. A tall demon clad in black clothes that had grey and red accents. Two horns grew out of his forehead similar to that of the babies, his skin being a deep black vortex that seemed to swirl but whenever you tried to really concentrate on it , it seemed to disappear and move to the corner of your eye.

Wilbur rubbed his eyes “Um, hello?”

A bright and happy smile appeared on the demons face, a thin tail moving happily around in the back “Hello! Nice to meet you! I’m BadBoyHalo! Your father messaged me, can I talk to him? Is he here?”

“Dad! Someone is here at the door! Is it that guy that is gonna steal our sibling?”

It only took Philza a short moment until he arrived at the front door with the baby in his arms, washed and taken care of to the best of his abilities “Wilbur! We talked about it, he is not stealing them! I’m sorry, Bad but I appreciate you coming over.”

Both Techno and Tommy walked in behind him, obviously having caught on to what was happening. Their expressions sad and almost dark. Still thinking that this was unfair.

Bad curiously pointed at the child in Philza’s arms “That’s them? Can I take a closer look?”

He didn’t hesitate to give Bad the child. Bad might have only been an acquaintance but he knows for a fact that he is a peaceful person. Someone who only fights to protect but don’t let that fool you. He was still powerful and dangerous.

It didn’t surprise him at all when Bad poked lovingly one of the chubby cheeks of the baby and cooed “Aw, look at you! Aren’t you adorable!”

This seemed to confuse Wilbur though who saw Bad as a mighty demon, not as a demon that just melted at one look of a baby.

“What can you tell me about them?”

Bad’s happy, scrunched up face returned to normal, now looking with a serious expression towards Philza “They already have their horns which isn’t unusual but more rare. It’s close to how mine are formed so if we Demons weren’t spread thin all around the place I would say they would technically be in the same clan as me. It’s the typical form of pyromancers but that doesn’t have to be it. I can’t feel any spells on them not even any protective spells which is weird. Even if parents abandon their kids they still apply a few protective spells, hoping it will give them enough time for other Demons to find them.”

“So, you think their parents died?”

“I-“ Bad begun only to scrunch up his eyebrows, an air of sadness seemed to sweep through the room “We are so wide spread and don’t live only in the nether anymore, so, abandoning a baby hoping that another demon finds them is… rare at best. We stick together. Our kin is important to us. I don’t think this was planned. No, they would have given over their child to people they trusted. This feels wrong. Very wrong.”

His voice wavered a bit at the end. The sadness of the situation seemed to have hit him.

Philza crossed his arms as he listened, the kids now almost hiding behind him but still peeking at the strange man “That’s- I have hoped for something better somehow but I figured it would be something like this. Can you help? Will you think about my proposal?”

“I’m not sure-“ but he got interrupted by the cries of the baby but Bad reacted immediately. Slowly swaddling them and carefully wiping away their tears. Lulling them slowly to calm them down again.

“What was it you wanted to say?” Philza tried to get back on topic.

“I’m- I’m taking them home. I’ll be their father.”

A huge smile spread across Philza’s face “Well, congratulations and thank you. Do you already have a name for them in mind?”

It shocked him when Bad immediately answered “Y/N. Their name is Y/N.”

#dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #dsmp reader insert #mcyt reader insert #dream smp reader insert #badboyhalo x reader #mcyt x Y/N #dsmp x Y/N #dream smp x Y/N #badboyhalo reader insert #badboyhalo x Y/N #sbi x reader #sbi reader insert #sbi x Y/N #Ramza writes

[maxwell-grant]

Cass wouldn’t even begrudingly tolerate [the Black Bat], because she’s even less lenient than Bruce on killing and far more willing to throw down.' - THANK YOU for remembering that.

Cass is my favorite Batfam member, the only one really that I have an active interest in reading about. I'd be incredibly ignorant to not bring bring up such a crucial aspect of her characterization. And even if I didn't personally care for her, well, last thing I'd want is to be another source of frustration for Cass fans. Lord knows there's enough of those to go around.

mousebrass also asked: On that note, how do you imagine a meeting between Cass and the Shadow going?

Fair warning: This one took me 6 hours to write, and it became a hell of a lot longer than I imagined. I liked Cass a lot, but I never quite realized I had this many feelings regarding her until I was tasked with writing this, and a lot of things clicked for me regarding my plans for The Shadow thanks to this ask. @mousebrass, thank you. I mean it. I think I may have found something here I've spent years looking for. Hope you enjoy the post.

I'm thankful that this scenario is only really taking place in a hypothetical fanon where both characters can get a fair shot, because I wouldn't trust DC with this premise. I don't trust DC with either of them as is.

There's a lot of ways that this crossover could go on about taking place naturally, initially because Cass is already connected to some of Batman's pulpier elements, due to her connections to Lady Shiva and the League of Assassins, and one could connect Cass to Myra Reldon (who really should just be race swapped if ever brought back so she can stand out as the cool character she is, without the yellowface gimmick holding her back). There's two things I think are crucial to making the most of this idea, and the first of which has to do with the subject of killing. I usually don't like to come up with hypothetical team-ups for The Shadow that focus too much on the fact that he kills, because it's far from the most significant aspect of his character to focus on, much of it is written from a wrong understanding of the character, and it never amounts to anything other than perfunctory. But here, not only is it completely unavoidable to discuss, here there is actually a very, very substantial grounding as to why this has to be such a big part of the story.

The first and foremost thing that's gotta be established to everyone reading that doesn't know already is this: Cassandra Cain, more so than Batman, more so than any other DCU hero, has a tolerance towards murder lower than zero, and this is completely non-negotiable. She will throw herself on the path of an assault rifle to stop men trying to kill her from accidentally killing each other. The defining moment of her incredibly grim backstory is that she was trained from birth to be the world's greatest murderer, and her first kill traumatized her so badly that she has pivoted as far away from that as possible. I stress a lot that the Shadow should not be written as the trigger-happy maniac comics made him into and that the pulp version killed mostly to defend himself and others, generally left criminals to the police if possible, offered plenty of second-chances, had stories dedicated to the rehabilitation of criminals and so on, but none of this would matter to Cass.

Cass has literally chosen suicide over the prospect of living with murder on her hands time and time again, and The Shadow kills. When he kills, he does so without remorse, with unshakeable certainty. He hates death, he doesn't want lives to be at risk in the first place. But people will die if he doesn't do anything, and what he can do, what he exists to do, is turn the tools of evil against evil, and murder is the oldest tool of evil there is. He doesn't kill because a war scarred him, he doesn't kill because he's got a demon in his soul, he doesn't kill because he's mentally off balance, he doesn't kill because he's evil or sadistic or arrogant or anything of the sort. He kills because the men he fights chose death when they sought to harm innocents and fire guns at him. He kills because he is Death itself.

Regardless of how compassionate he is or can be, regardless of the fact that he's motivated by a desire to protect people, regardless of how justified he is, he is still dropping corpses and laughing maniacally doing so. Cass's real arch-enemy isn't Shiva or David Cain, it's Death, it's the thing that she's fundamentally most opposed to. And guess what The Shadow gets compared to often enough? Literally the very first line of the very first book where we get to see him, this is how we are introduced to him:

So the premise here is that we are taking a character who is defined by her fundamental opposition to death with every fiber of her being, who understands death on a level no other human being does, who is traumatized and hard-wired to detest death at all costs and to choose suicide over it, and asking her to team up with The Grim Reaper.

Even if he received the most abject lesson conceivable on the sheer wrongness of murder, even if he does put down the guns around Cass out of respect for her, he cannot protect his agents and others if he cannot shoot or kill those who try to harm them, and the protection of the agents is absolutely non-negotiable and not at all something he's willing to fuck around with by trying out gadget kung fu superhero alternatives. The Shadow has chosen to throw his life away for their sake time and time again, and no matter how appaling or disgusting Cass finds his deeds, even if he concedes that she's right and should be right on all accounts and that he is fundamentally a monster who has no right to judge others, he would not concede on his mission and he would make it very clear she would have to put him down violently to stop him from protecting others this way, and death has not stopped him before.

And to be upfront in case there's anyone who doubts it, Cass would kick The Shadow's ass, if they had to fight. She is the strongest fighter in the DCU, she lives and breathes fighting and combat in a way no one else does. And The Shadow's not one of those characters who is supposed to be invincible and the best at everything all the time always, he can and does lose fights and scrapes to people far less adept at it than Cass. He's a great fighter, obviously, he hauls bigger men than him through doors and was disabling people with Vulcan neck pinches decades before Spock, and he would definitely have an edge in other areas, but he's out of his league here. Frankly, I don't see The Shadow raising a finger against Cass unless she's been brainwashed into killing people by bad writing. Not because she's a woman, that doesn't really stop him from dealing with evil. But because, for one, she's practically a child compared to him age-wise. Two, he'd obviously know beforehand of her capabilities and how futile it would be to fight or even provoke her. And three, the Shadow's whole thing is knowing. The Shadow Knows and all that. Knowing comes with understanding.

He'd understand very quickly that there is no way someone this young could grow so quickly into the world's greatest fighter without horrific treatment that no one should ever be subjected to. He'd see the movements too practiced and quick, the self-control, the strength and speed far beyond even the trained warriors he's seen, the places where she's been scarred and is good at covering it up. Assuming he doesn't already know about her life story, any meeting between the two would lead to him very quickly figuring out that there's something much deeper about her opposition to killing than just moral reservations, something deeper than Bruce's own gun trauma.

Denny O'Neil's 2nd Batman and Shadow story was about The Shadow secretly helping Bruce overcome gun trauma, and Bruce rejecting The Shadow's intentions to hand him a gun. And to make it clear, people tend to assume that The Shadow only helps people for utilitarian reasons, which is not true as I've tried to demonstrate many times now. I don't want to convey that he would want to help Cass overcome her trauma just so she could be more efficient or something, absolutely no, he'd help her because he helps people in any way he can. I think a story with The Shadow and Cass might involve a similar premise, The Shadow understanding that she has been traumatized very deeply by death and refuses to accept it on any terms, trying to help her overcome it, only to learn that she does not want to "learn" anything she doesn't already know, that she has weaponized her trauma into a source of strength, and wishes nothing more than to help others with it.

And here's where we get to the part that allows the two to be on less antagonistic terms, because one thing that also very strongly defines Cass, at least the Cass I like reading most, is her stubborn, almost desperate need to believe in the best of people, that people can and will change for the better. Like The Shadow, her strength too is knowing, it's perception, the things that she knows about people that words cannot convey. Just as there are many things The Shadow would grow to understand about her that others would not, there would be many things that The Shadow would not be able to conceal from her. Things that no one but her would figure out. Things that, despite her age and lack of experience compared to him, he would have to defer to her knowledge on, which reverses the usual dynamic The Shadow has with people. And perhaps one aspect of that reversal, it's that maybe it's she who winds up secretly manipulating The Shadow into overcoming a deeper issue.

Cass's perspective on killing is shaped not just through trauma, but from a painfully intimate understanding of not just what happens to someone at the time of death, but the cost of murder upon the human soul, the ways it warps people into things they never should have been. Killing is a deeply, deeply serious matter, much more so than fiction seems ever willing to go into. Of course we suspend disbelief for fiction, there's nothing wrong with that, but if a story starts asking questions, starts poking holes into fantasies, they should not be disregarded.

And so it begs a question: How has it affected The Shadow? Is he really as remorseless as he appears to be? Is the fact that he's only killing evil people really of that much use? What's the cost of living as someone who has to know so much about so much evil in so many hearts? Knowledge never comes without price, and knowing evil is his tagline. When he enlists Harry Vincent, he makes it very clear that he has lost lives as he has saved them. From when is that regret coming from? What lives did he lose then? Is he saving people by damning his soul or merely prolonging the inevitable by piling corpses on another end of the scale?

If there's a character that could meaningfully start bringing these questions forth, who could ever truly get The Shadow to stop and reveal things to the audience he never would otherwise, maybe Cass could be that character. A girl who was raised to be a monster, who is treated as a monster and an aberration in-universe (and even outside of it), and turned that into a strength she uses to help others, who cares about everyone and refuses to let others be dehumanized as she was. Who better to know what lurks in the Shadow's heart?

Sometimes when I get an ask, I bullshit my way through infodump walls of text until I can structure it into something vaguely resembling a point. And sometimes, and I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes I get a very, very clear word on my mind related to it before I start writing, that almost seems to be a beacon pointing where I need to get to, and I work my way into getting there. Once you sent me an ask about crossing over The Shadow with Cassandra Cain, the word that came to mind the very second was Language.

It's an interesting relation the two have with language. Language is of course a very substantial part of Cass's character, who does not process language and linguistic development the way most people do, and instead reads body language to the point of superpower. Many stories revolve around Cass's relation to the concept of language, the help she may require from others in getting around things beyond her upbringing, and ways in which she has mastered beyond anyone's scope. Though she is mute, language is her power, what makes her what she is, and she is someone that Batman freely admits could kick his ass if she ever felt like it.

For The Shadow, language is also his power. He speaks all languages and connects allies all over the world, he is an expert ventriloquist, he is able to project his voice beyond what's physically possible, he can imitate voices perfectly to the point of being able to conduct group conversations single-handedly well enough to fool even the people whose voices he's imitating, much of his presence and terror and manipulation are done through his voice, arguably the very reason he exists in the first place is entirely because a radio actor's voice performance was so good and captivating that it tricked people into thinking the character was a real star and not just a glorified narrator. The man you cannot see, but only hear, the perfect hero for radio. And then of course the laugh, which I have a whole separate post on and which, in many ways, acts as a substitute for language in the novels. He uses the laugh so often as a substitute for statements or words, even to himself, that it's pretty much his own personal language. And language is at the core of how he deals with people, as he knows the right language to use to manipulate and move and help them. He knows what to promise, what to reveal, what to omit. He knows what to say, how to say it, when to say it. Language is the strings by which he puppeteers the world around him (and he can talk to animals, at least of one kind).

The Shadow and Cassandra Cain have mastered two different types of Language as throughly as anyone can possibly master them. The Shadow can talk a group of hardened criminals into killing themselves, Cassandra can punch a heart into stopping without killing it. The Shadow echoes his voice "through everywhere and nowhere at once" to whip crowds of thugs into frenzies, Cassandra outraces missiles and was tanking bullets as a child. The Shadow can lie and usurp lives so masterfully to fool even the families of those he's passing off as, Cassandra is a living lie detector who gleams inner conversations from miniscule reactions. The Shadow can speak every language known, Cassandra is the greatest master of the world's most universal language other than music. The two are supposedly human, but every now and then, something comes along to call that into question because of the things they can achieve. They cannot hide secrets from each other the way they do to everyone else. They are driven by a deep desire to help others, to make something out of the circumstances of their lives. To weaponize that which dictates they should be evil and monstrous into a relentless force of good.

Language is the root of understanding. And if nothing else, as impossible as a conciliation of their approaches to crimefighting may be, I think there could be an unique understanding between the two. Perhaps, and this is a bit crazier a concept but one that seems to be where I might have been heading towards all along, even Cassandra Cain finding a calling away from the frayed dynamics of the Batfamily, away from the Bat's looming presence, to become The Shadow's successor, swearing to uphold a mission of justice through non-lethal tactics while he stays on the backseat guiding her. If The Shadow could trust the safety of his agents and the protection of the innocent at the hands of someone as capable and selfless and good-natured as Cassandra, I think he'd be all too happy to be able to trust someone in such a manner, to no longer be the Master of Darkness, but instead to serve the next generation that's weaponized darkness without submerging in it. To achieve, and perhaps return, to his strongest, highest self: A disembodied voice heard, but not seen. Once again the narrator, not the star.

It's a concept I've thought about very extensively for the years I've been a Shadow fan, but now it occurs to me that, if I had to appoint a successor of The Shadow, someone who could take up the mission but shine on their own right, even improve it with the right guidance and circumstances, it would be Cassandra Cain. The Orphan, The Shadow of the Batgirl. Daughter of the greatest assassins, meant to be the world's most lethal murderer, instead pivoted to being one of it's greatest heroes, but never allowed to shine as she should. But in the darker, less restrictive and wilder world of pulp heroes, in The Shadow's world, a beacon would shine all the harder. Perfect strengths attached to perfect opposites, joined together for a greater good, unstoppable after together having weaponized that which most take for granted: the power of language to move worlds.

#replies tag #pulp heroes #comic books #the shadow #cassandra cain #batgirl #i always had a feeling that a successor to the shadow should not be modeled on batman but someone within that range #i never quite found a character i would be happy with taking that role or a similar role #aw shit i just talked myself into a new favorite character #that just so happens to be another character brimming with potential that's denied them by corporate overlords #who could have seen that coming

[aggressive-positivity-network]

Okay, so you said I could send an ask for headcanons about the childhoods of some specific merc(s)... I think I would really like to read your headcanons about Soldier’s and Engineer’s childhood :)

Thanks in advance and I hope your well.

Ooooh…I’ve been waiting for this! And thank you for being specific and not just saying “the rest of them.” Sometimes I get overwhelmed with nine specific mercs to write for. Your specifics are much appreciated.

****************

Soldier:

Soldier doesn’t talk very much about his childhood - whether it’s because something happened or he just doesn’t remember it, no one can tell. It’s nowhere in his file, either…he refused to do anything except tell fantastic tales of a fictional youth.

However, in a rare streak of almost lucidity, he spouted off the entirety of his younger years, much to the team’s surprise. Usually, if anyone asked directly, he changed the subject.

But now he described everything in vivid detail. And, with a bit of research from Miss Pauling, everything fell into place.

Apparently he had been born in a small military town in Georgia. His father was overseas, leaving he and his mother alone in their small yellow house.

In order to make ends meet, his mother worked at a nearby factory, mostly leaving Soldier to fend for himself and the house.

“Can you be a big, strong soldier like daddy for me?”

Soldier would always agree, finding his own food, his own entertainment, and his own friends. No matter what happened, he never bothered his mom. If anything, his job was to protect her.

That’s why, when his stomach started hurting and his arms and legs ached, he said nothing about it.

When he forgot the chores he was supposed to do and even the names of his friends, he didn’t bring it up.

When he felt tired all the time and some days could barely get out of bed, he just chalked it up to laziness like his mother did.

It turns out the factory they were next to was polluting the water next to the house with dangerous amounts of lead, which soon overcame Soldier’s immune system of steel.

He could barely remember anything anymore, and he became more and more distraught every day. Sometimes he would forget where he was and run outside, then get lost in the woods, only coming back once he remembered where he was supposed to be.

Soldier began to wear one of his father’s old helmets after his mom commented on his red eyes and the dark circles around them. He didn’t want to worry her. Besides, it helped bring back a few memories if he ever got lost again.

Finally, it got to the point where he didn’t even remember his mother, or his promise to her. He began to wander farther and farther away from home.

One day, he didn’t come back at all.

Out in the world with not a single memory to his name, Soldier wandered far and wide. He usually slept in barns and old, abandoned houses, cut off from most people.

Occasionally, he would find a family that wanted to “raise him as their own,” only to turn him away after finding him too difficult to care for.

He had frequent nightmares, ate little due to his unresolved stomach issues, and could barely walk ten feet without forgetting where he was going.

If he accidentally wandered into the same house twice, he would be chased out with either a broom or a gun - usually the latter.

He became “the demon child” in some counties, and “g*psy kid” in others, due to his long, unkempt hair, hidden eyes, and odd habits.

It even got to the point where Soldier couldn’t sleep on anyone’s property because he would be actively fought off like a wolf or a bear.

His only pleasure was an old movie theater that, as he recovered from his lead poisoning, remembered the location of and frequently snuck into.

The only thing that played were romance movies - which, like many children, Soldier hated - and war movies, which he watched over and over again with starving eyes.

Because of these movies, a single memory from his mother’s house came to him. A woman, tall and muscular from hard labor, giving him a shiny badge to hold, asking him to be a strong soldier like his father.

And thus began his life-long dream of becoming a military officer.

He trained according to what he knew from the films…which was mostly running, doing jumping jacks, and occasionally rolling around in the mud.

This only served to distance him further from his fellow human beings, but he didn’t care. Soldier had a mission, and he was going to do it well.

But the biggest change was his hair.

He had started cutting it off with sharpened rocks, but he was always saving up coins he found for a “proper army cut.”

Finally, he had quite the collection in a dirty mason jar, and marched into the barber shop in his town to ask for a haircut.

The manager was appalled, and at first refused, but Soldier stood his ground.

“Civilian, I’ll have you know that by denying a soldier with a haircut, you are denying America one of its best fighters! I can’t curdle the enemy’s blood looking like a hippie!”

After a short yelling match that, of course, Soldier won, the manager decided it would be in his best interest to comply.

He walked out of that shop with no hair on his head, but a huge grin on his face. Next stop, the ranks.

Soldier went from draft office to draft office, applying for and being denied entrance to the army for his obvious lack of mental stability.

This is when the personal retelling ended, since Soldier became very upset by the memory of his recruitment failures, but Miss Pauling concluded that he just bounced from state to state until Mann Co. found him, quote, “sitting in an alleyway, eating army draft paperwork while sobbing uncontrollably.”

Engineer:

Engineer also never really talks about his childhood, but both Medic and Spy (Spy knows everything about everyone on the team) know that’s for a good reason.

He grew up in a trailer community near an almost ghost town in Texas.

His father was an abusive car mechanic with a mean streak a mile wide and a shop full of failed inventions. His mother wasn’t any better - she was bitter and reclusive, only really coming out of her room to pick a fight with her husband.

However, what Engie lacked in family, he more than made up for in friends.

He had a rag-tag, Rugrats-esque team of pals from all walks of life: Rhapsody, the daughter of a struggling porn star; Tom, the son of two farmers wiped out by blight; Cici, an adopted girl that could barely walk into her trailer without a black eye and a string of slurs; Quinn, the nervous child of a single mother that serves as guidance to the other kids; And Fred, who didn’t seem to have any family, but had become a greaser big brother to all of them.

Together, they explored the desert near the trailer park, pooled their resources to feed and support each other, and used their individual strengths to get through each day.

Engineer, whom everyone affectionately called “Big Dell,” snuck parts from his dad’s workshop for his own creations.

By the time he was twelve, he could make a small, running engine for the soapbox cars his friends frequently raced.

No toy, piece of clothing, glasses, or tool was out of his line of expertise.

One day, though, upon finding that some of his parts were missing, Engineer’s dad gave him a terrible beating that broke a few of his fingers and left a huge gash near his eye.

Since then, he refused to fix, make, or even touch a tool.

He wouldn’t tell anyone what happened, but they could make a pretty good guess, since they knew where the scraps and parts had come from.

The whole group was furious with Engineer’s dad - their Big Dell was funny, smart, and was more loving than every family member they had combined. Even Quinn was red in the face.

They wanted to break into his dad’s workshop and destroy all of his inventions, just to teach him a lesson, but they knew Engineer would take the fall for it.

Instead, they rummaged through trash cans, searched their toy chests, and looked under their trailers to find things Engineer could use.

They waited until his birthday to unveil the massive pile of supplies they had stowed away.

Engineer immediately dropped to his knees and began to cry, and everyone else dogpiled him for a huge hug.

As the creme de la creme, they gave him a pair of welding goggles - the same welding goggles he wears to this day, having modified them so they still fit his growing body.

With his healed fingers and renewed spirit, he made each of them a gift: a toy car for Rhapsody, a skull ring for Fred, a full set of candle wax crayons for Cici, a chewable necklace for Quinn so they wouldn’t chew on their collar, and a mini-planter for Tom.

But Engineer was given the greatest gift - confidence in his own abilities and that he can be and was appreciated for more than his services.

This gave him the drive to build bigger and better things, which his friends happily assisted in creating.

Engie’s best memories are with that motley crew of scrawny, beaten-up kids.

But, as he became a teenager, the abuse grew worse by the day.

He was often kept in his dad’s garage to fix cars in sweltering heat and with nothing to show for his work except threats of what would happen if a customer complained.

His mother finally grew bitter enough to pick on him, wondering aloud and pointedly if she had made a mistake by having him, then immediately contradict herself by wailing in his arms about how she’s the most awful mother in the world, and how she would be gone soon, and then nobody would have to deal with her anymore.

Engie grew more and more distant from his friends as they either moved out, ran away, or, in Rhapsody’s case, died.

He thought of just shutting the garage door and turning on a car a couple times, but he would always return to his memories of the hidden cave of goodies his friends had collected or the many inventions they had helped him build.

It just wasn’t worth it.

On a night when his depression and self-doubt was especially bad, he decided to build a personal invention for the first time in years - a small, robotic chicken made out of bent gears and empty oil cans.

He worked on it for a few weeks, but made the mistake of leaving it on a work table once it was finished.

Engie came to work the next morning with his dad ready to chew him out. But, before any finger could be lifted against his son, he was interrupted by a sweet older couple that was having their tires replaced.

“Now, Ethan, ain’t that just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life?”

“Hm?”

“That there chicken statue over there! It looks like it could very well get up and start peckin’ for worms, don’tcha think?”

Engie looked at the couple, then at his dad, then at his chicken. He slowly lifted it from the table and turned the key.

It started to slowly lean forward, then took a few steps on it’s long, spring-loaded legs. The neck went down, and the chicken’s rusty beak began to scrape at the pavement.

Now he had the husband’s attention.

“Didja build that yourself, son, or did your daddy help ya?”

Engineer looked at his dad for a split second before answering.

“My own sweat ‘n blood, sir. My daddy says I should stop wastin’ time on ugly thing-a-ma-jigs an’ put my hands to somethin’ worth doin’.”

The man smiled. “Well, this ‘ugly thing-a-ma-jig’ shows real skill. We could use somebody like you, once we train you up a bit.”

“Now hold on a damn - !” his father interjected, but was silenced with a cold stare.

“We’ll put ya through a state-of-the-art school, then put ya straight inta the work force. You can build whatever you like…and you’ll have a lot better materials than rusty tin. Whaddaya say, son?”

Engineer just nodded, and the man grabbed his hand and shook it.

“We’ll keep in touch.”

Engineer left that trailer park at age seventeen, leaving his fuming father and drunken mother behind.

He only stopped to visit Rhapsody’s grave before embarking on his new life.

There is still a stone plate with a message carved into it next to the headstone. If you brush off the leaves and dig out the moss, you can see Engie’s parting words:

“A friendship with you and the rest of the gang is the greatest thing I ever built. -Big Dell”

#tf2 #tf2 fandom #tf2 ask blog #tf2 headcanon #tf2 headcanons #tf2 engineer #engineer tf2 #tf2 solly #send asks #ask blog #headcanon requests #lovely anon #thanks anon #thanks for the ask

[demonslayedher]

Hello! I decided to stop by ^^

I was wondering about Nezuko sleeping and how exactly it works. I mean, the idea is fairly straightforward. People get energy from sleeping and eating, but demons just need to eat. But Nezuko sleeps instead. Could sleeping work for other demons? Or is it that once they eat, sleeping won't do them any good?

They'd most likely fall into a coma for a while, I think. And that could be dangerous for them without a really secure location. So it's understandable why they'd choose not to.

'Suuup, thanks for stopping by the Ask Box while it was open and thanks for your patience! : D (And all your nice tags, they make me smile.) I think you nailed it that this is a pretty straightforward process, Gotouge has narrated it as such too or had characters point it out: Nezuko undergoes transformation and recovers her strength by sleeping. But what's worth looking a little more closely at is that other demons find it unusual. And, besides the act, it's unusual how Nezuko's transformations and strengthening are self-driven, and not reliant on outsides sources of strength.

That dual impact is important, for it's not simply a matter of how people rely on both eating and sleeping for survival as well as growth. Demons have a drive to eat, and it's an especially maddening hunger after the very physically stressful transformation from humanity to demonhood. We also know that this is how demons transform themselves into stronger and stronger beings, which is why many the demons with an eye for advancement will seek out more that what will satisfy a hunger (Enmu's train plan, Kyogai's marechi plan, the Upper Moon Six pair's boasting of how many Pillars they've eaten, Douma just... doing his Douma thing). Because of the importance people like Urokodaki have placed on it, we know that they precise number of people has a proportional impact, and while some demons simply have their own tastes (like the Swamp Demon liking the flesh of young girls at the height of their beauty and the Tongue Demon assuming Zenitsu and Shoichi would have nice tender flesh), there is a general understanding among demons that the stronger of a person you consume, the bigger will be the impact on your ensuing transformation and strengthening. But, I have to wonder, what happens when a demon stops eating humans?

Akaza may be an interesting case because he prefers to get stronger by training instead of by consuming humans. That's not to say he doesn't eat humans, but he's not motivated to it. He was already extremely powerful due to the amount of Muzan's blood he received and probably due to his own innate abilities. But he's found that training is just as good as eating people, implying that demon flesh still retains some human-like properties for relying on more than caloric intake. More interesting is Kyogai, who reached a point of difficulty in consuming humans. We don't know why, nor do we know if any other demons had this difficulty, though Muzan seemed unsurprised by a demon having a "limit" of how much human flesh they can intake. Whether it was a physical or emotional limitation is an interesting question to ponder, especially since Kyogai was already far more powerful than most demons ever had a prayer of becoming. When seeking out that Marechi blood, it was for the sake of becoming more powerful, not for self-sustenance.

And, since demons are essentially immortal for as long as they are safe from the sun, they don't need sleep either. But do they sleep?? I think you're right, it would make them very vulnerable. But wow, what else are they going to do while hiding out from the sun? That's got to be a little maddening not having that periodic respite from existence, and it might torment them a little like it did for Al from Fullmetal Alchemist. While sleeping may or may not be impossible for them, it's like very unusual, giving Rui's reaction to Nezuko sleeping in Chapter 39:

"Hm? Did she lose consciousness? Did she fall asleep? She's a demon with a very peculiar air about her... something different about her from the rest of us... interesting." He seems to find this behavior so unusual in the first place that he first suspects she's displayed a more typical human reaction to this situation, losing consciousness, which may be more likely a state for a demon to find themselves in. We also know from examples like the Temple Demon in Volume 1 getting temporarily knocked out when his body falls off a cliff that this isn't terribly unusual. Sleep may not being entirely out of the realm of possibility, but it sure would make that demon a weirdo. Rui, just like Tamayo, can tell something is simply off about Nezuko. So if we look back at Nezuko, I've dove before into why she's special, especially in regard to how she conquered the sun. I placed a lot of that emphasis on the Kamado bloodline's ties with the sun, but let's look specifically on Nezuko's sleep.

While most demons likely get that first meal they're desperately hungry for likely within hours of their transformation, Nezuko never got this. She denied herself this, and was so sapped of strength that she really could not summon enough power to even stay awake. The extreme exhaustion was probably something that allowed her to fall into a deep sleep in the first place. This is what provided the opportunity for her body to look for some other way to survive, like a starved human tapping into the fat cell reserves. It's just my assumption, but if consuming human flesh takes that caloric intake and uses it to become part of the demon's body and make it stronger, and if the early stages of being a demon mean that one is still somewhat unstable (i.e., Kaigaku not having good command of his powers and Tanjiro still being susceptible to a vaccine which Muzan's cells already partially recognized, despite both these demons being extremely powerful right away), then perhaps a demon will remain highly unstable until they've consumed human flesh. For instance, this might be what allows them to regain some sense of self they had before, which Tamayo notes that Nezuko lacks. If that's the case, then Nezuko's highly unstable state is what allowed the very, very unusual transformation to take place.

Muzan really should have paid more attention to her, for she was a mad success. Sleeping to gain strength is unusual and probably not something Muzan would have cared about, but Nezuko is so good at using this ability that she very quickly attains regenerative abilities that Lower Moons might had spent decades of eating people before they were able to attain that.

Furthermore, Nezuko's strange abilities to transform herself are not limited to sleep. Simply the emotional rush she gets being the presence of Upper Moons, demons with a high concentration of Muzan's cells, enables her to instantly transform to a much more powerful state. And that sun Muzan has been trying for a thousand years to find a demon that will master? Nezuko did it in less than three years from her transformation. While I think her bloodline was a necessary component of that, her starvation-induced Big Sleep was probably what unlocked Nezuko's self-transformative abilities. Is that to say it would be impossible for other demons, who thus far must rely on outsides sources for their transformation and strengthening, be it Muzan's blood or human flesh? Probably not impossible! Akaza and Tamayo show us the roots of this in their more limited reliance on human flesh, and in the self-mastering of physical training and controlled diet with alternative (albeit physically challenging) food sources. But neither of them endured the sort of state that Nezuko fell into, so they didn't have the opportunity to try to totally teach their flesh to find reliance on alternative sources of strength. So, highly unlikely that sleep would benefit most demons, if it's an activity they even engage in. But, with the right circumstances and physical disposition, it could be a possibility.

#I have... been neglecting my studies for the last few days and making art instead #eep #KnY fandom theories and meta #Kamado Nezuko #and a bunch of other demons #Kimetsu no Yaiba #Demon Slayer

[sunseteyes]

FLUFFVEMBER DAY 13: YORIICHI TSUGIKUNI

prompt: i love you (prompts are by @jojosmilktea)

word count: 1,296 words | themes: gen!reader, slow burn-ish, yori’s era i have no idea when dont ask me please, manga spoilers because well yori is a spoiler himself lmao

tags: @kacchanori @chickynn @todominica @sparkleswritings @brinthie @patricia-ceballos @giyuus-wife @bitchtrynafck @astrxrism @animatedarchives @deephasoceanmagic @strawberrysalwa

rv: this kinda gives me the vibe to “roze continue this or i will smack you” because i have an angst plot hidden behind this but yes of course it’s not stated here much because i don’t want to really lengthen this more lmao. enjoy reading!

✒︎ breath of love

yoriichi never was a showy or a vocal person. you knew that since the start—before you even had gotten to talk with the sun breath user.

having an enhanced sense of sight, you could always see and read other people with their slightest bits of movements—always being able to observe what they feel, think and are about to do. that’s what you expected when you became a demon slayer, being one of the strongest with the help of your small yet strong impacted ability.

people notice your ability when you come to help them when they needed it, even if they haven't said it yet. you were always everyone's shoulder to cry on, always the person who people call as "friendly". the friendly pillar.

when you first saw yoriichi, you knew in an instant that he would be a tough one to crack. because despite being able to catch what one’s reactions were, you should also have the knowledge to determine who the person really is for not everyone is exactly the same and it speaks with their actions too.

you observed him from afar, the alleged sun breath user that taught everyone their own breaths—the very reason why the demon slayers were starting to evolve and get stronger and stronger by the day.

you? you became a love breath user.

you know of the word love and of course you feel it, but it surprised you to have it as your own breath. when yoriichi told you that you’d use love breathing, as a matter of fact, you looked him in the eye with an incredulous look and it became the first time for you to never have read what the other person’s intentions were. in short, you could not figure out yoriichi at all.

a tick of a brow, a quirk on the corner of a lip, a twitch on the eye, none of those were shown on his refined and reserved face, as if he doesn’t have emotions at all.

he’s a blank.

“why?” you say, teeth gnawing on the insides of your cheeks the moment you realized you let out the question.

he looked at you, speaking nothing. yet for some reason, you knew that he was waiting for you to finish off and complete your statement.

“why love breathing?”

yoriichi’s face was unbothered, unmoving as a stone, aside from the small gap on his lips as he moved them to speak.

“is there any reason why not?”

the lump on your throat was an indication that you couldn’t answer, the confusion in your mind starting to build bigger and bigger as seconds passes by. for a moment there, you thought you two would just stand in silence, eyeing each other like two eagles awaiting for one to break the peace.

“i’m just curious.” you let out, not knowing exactly why you asked him such an idiotic question that left you hanging on a cliff when you were asked back.

you expected him to answer, nonetheless. but alas, none came out of yoriichi’s lips and he merely looked at you in the eye. you found his stare intimidating that you shuddered on your own, averting your gaze away as you pushed the question on the back of your mind, choosing to ignore the fact that he did not answer it.

but that moment hunted you as you used the breath, curiosity choosing to make its way to your mind until you noticed something that caught your eyes.

"why are you holding back?" you questioned him, a frown appearing on your lips as you eased up the same time as he did, abandoning both of your defenses from the seemingly silent training that you got assigned with for the day. it was not unusual for you to meet yoriichi at least once or twice a week since he usually trains with the pillars to test their strengths and be able to determine if they could still handle the breath that was allotted to them. after all, each one of you are merely testing whether you could do what someone like yoriichi could. that even if you all could not be on the same level as his, all of you try to.

he was the goal—one to attain to not die in this line of work.

yoriichi was silent again, and it takes all of your energy not to let your anger seeth in at his silence. after all, he's still an honorable man and he's someone who you all should respect for teaching you his techniques, even if some were trying to talk behind his back for it. some people are ungrateful, after all.

you're not. you respect yoriichi, but you're wondering if he does the same to you too.

"you fit well with it." he suddenly says, shocking your system at the sound of his calm and full voice. he rarely speaks, only when he is needed.

"with what?"

"love breathing."

the words he said slowly processed in your mind but you eventually realized what he meant. it was the answer to your question from weeks ago, the one that made you curious the entire time.

"that's why you picked it for me?"

yoriichi looks away but it was not to avoid your eyes. it was to look at the sky that he always had seemed to adore. "i didn't."

at that time, questions raised in your mind but you didn't ask them in fear that you would be left hanging once again. instead, you let the silence and peace greet you, feeling much more comfortable than before. which is rather curious, honestly.

you found yourself liking the tranquility that floats above your head every time you were with yoriichi, and before you knew it, you craved for his presence more and more, even watching him train with the other slayers from afar. he didn't seem to notice it, but even if he did, it didn't look like he minded it.

yoriichi frequently watched the sky, and you didn't know what took over you to do it with him one morning, sitting down next to the sun breath user with ease and composure that you've never felt before. you were raised in a family of fighters, and it must be the reason why you craved for the serenity that yoriichi brings to the people that are around him.

with him, it just seems so... peaceful.

"you meant that i was the one who chose the breath of love, didn't you?" your question surprised you. you only wanted to start a conversation but before you know it, words were already spilling out of your lips.

yoriichi turns to look at you then, and a wave of cold water washes over you for an unknown reason. it was as if you were refreshed and you were born anew whenever yoriichi's gaze is focused on you. you couldn't read him again like usual, but you didn't mind it anymore. he didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. you already figured out how to know what he's thinking. you begun to understood the heart that lies beneath that stone surface of his.

you know this. you know this feeling so much.

in fact, it's so ironic.

you look at him, a smile appearing on your face.

for the very first time, you felt as if you were the one who was being taken care of. all your life, you determined how people think, feel and act. you became someone who felt responsible if they feel lonely one bit.

but now that you're with yoriichi, it was you this time.

you were falling for him. and you'd better stop yourself from showing any signs of it or you'll be the first to say i love you.

#yoriichi tsugikuni #yoriichi x reader #kny fluff #kny oneshots #kny x reader #fluffvember 2020 #fluffvember #roze.fluffvember #roze.daydream #roze.kny

[mwolf0epsilon]

PUT THE HEADCANONS IN THE BAG! Tell me everyone's height, build, and how/what they'd do in a fight.

Joey Drew - 5'11", slim build with a weakness in the right knee (carries a cane and later on is wheelchair bound). Pre-Ink, he's pretty much defenseless, you're basically bullying a crippled old man. Post-Ink, I wouldn't recommend fighting him because he knows how to control his abilities (including shapeshifting) and his cane is actually a cane sword. He will mess you up.

Henry Stein - 5'6", short and stout with very bad arthritis and back issues. Pre-Ink, you're a monster for bullying poor soft grandpa. Post-Ink, if you piss him off you're going to get beaten up. He'll let you go when he feels like you learned your lesson tho.

Linda Stein - 6'12", built like an amazon and skilled in both fencing and kickboxing. She will demolish you.

Sammy Lawrence - 6 feet exactly, human form was pretty slim but Prophet form bulked up considerably. Pre-Ink you could take him on, but he made up for lack of muscle with pure ferocity and wasn't opposed to fighting dirty (biting and scratching). Post-Ink he can easily lift a person off the ground one-handed, and he has no qualms cutting people down. Fight at your own peril.

Jack Fain - 5'4" as a human, quite chubby in build. Diminished to 3'5" as a Swollen Searcher. Pre-Ink, why would you hit Jack?! Post-Ink, what is wrong with you?! Congratulations, no matter what form you fight him in you're a monster!

Susie Campbell - 5'2" and chubby build, can pack a punch if she needs to. Grew to 6'2" and slightly slimmer build as Twisted Alice, and is a lot stronger than she looks. Pre-Ink, sure fight her but expect a broken nose, you jerk. Post-Ink, leave that to Allison maybe... Susie isn't a damsel in distress.

Norman Polk - 6'12" and build like an absolute beast, despite his age he could annihilate anyone in the studio if he felt like it. Grew up to 7'2" and bulked up even more as the Projectionist. Pre-Ink, he'll kick your ass and scold you afterwards, the shame burns worse than the bruises. Post-Ink, oh my god please be my guest and fight him! Fight him so you can fail miserably for my entertainment!

Allison Pendle - 5'9" and petit feminine build, very agile and energetic. 6'2" as Allison Angel, and somewhat more feisty. Pre-Ink, she'd talk you out of fighting her. Post-Ink, you better be good at sword fighting! She'll skewer you like a hecking kebab.

Thomas Connor - 6'2" stocky build and used to both hard labour and defending himself in a scrap. Diminished to 6 feet as Tom Boris, but has considerably enhanced strength. Pre-Ink, oh boy get ready for a walloping! Post-Ink, do you not see the gosh dang metal arm?! He'll demolish you faster than a vault door...

Wally Franks - 5'3" and stout build, a compact little unit! He's a typical lad from Brooklyn with a lot of questionable family members, and he will wrestle you to the ground if he doesn't trust you. You can take him on, but you'll not leave unscathed.

Shawn Flynn - 5'7" and slim built, but this man has the ire of the Irish on his side. As the Boss Searcher he's 6'8" at crawling height, do not test his patience! Pre-Ink, get ready for a brawl, expect it to be quite the show! Post-Ink, please leave him alone, he's just trying to defend his workshop. You can take him on but expect his fellow Searchers to be upset!

Grant Cohen - 5'11", used to be a little overweight before losing a tremendous amount of weight out of stress. He's diminished to 3'5" as a Searcher and somehow looks bony. Pre-Ink, what is WRONG with you?! Post-Ink, what is WRONG with you?! God you're just a monster, aren't you?

Buddy Lewek - 5'5" and slim, very bony build. Got up to 6 feet as a Boris and his strength has been enhanced as well. Pre-Ink, why the hell are you bullying this poor kid? Post-Ink, he'll break your hand and run for it. Just leave poor Buddy alone, he's suffered enough.

Dot - 5'6" pretty average build in general, slightly chubby. She dropped a projector on someone's head, and attacked a demon. If it means surviving she will fight dirty and maim you.

Abby Lambert - 5'9" and average build. Grew up to 6'7" as a Lost One, and is still as agile as she used to be. Pre-Ink, she can throw a good punch and she knows where to hit. Post-Ink, wow you definitely want to be a kebab! There's also the horrifying possessive monster following her around like her personal demon. For your own safety, do not fight Abby.

Doc Hackenbush - 6'3" very stocky and chubby build. Not much of a fighter though. Remained the same height as a Lost One, but appears a little chubbier. Pre-Ink, sedative time! Post-Ink, sedative time! He's a doctor, genius...

Bertrum Piedmont - 6'2" and an absolute unit of a man. God only knows how massive he is as the octopus ride. Pre-Ink, you can take him on mostly due to age advantage. Post-Ink, have fun! 50-50 with this guy!

Lacie Benton - 6'3" with an average build, strong arms and legs tho. Diminished to 6 feet as the Bendy Animatronic, but then again she's made of frigging metal. Pre-Ink, you can take her sure, her ulcer makes it a little easier on you. Post-Ink, if she's fully assembled, I'd run. She's made of metal dang it.

Emma LaMonte - 5'11" and built like a professional ballerina. Her legs are POWERFUL. As the Giant Bendy Hand she's absolutely massive. Pre-Ink, get ready for a mule kick from hell. Post-Ink, you might need a bigger boat and a bigger gun than a tommy gun. She's gonna drag you down into the inky depths.

#bendy and the ink machine #batim #headcanons #height #fight

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #172

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making Rider of Resistance, a.k.a. a good reason as to why Type Moon should just... stop. Just stop, please, this is an intervention. As usual, expect spoilers below the cut, which is where you can find his build breakdown. Otherwise, check out his character sheet over here!

Next up: She’s a lumberjack, and she’s okay!

Christopher Columbus is a Gloom Stalker Ranger for a noble phantasm that lets him seek out whatever he desires as well as the smash and grab tactics the conquistadors are known for. He’s also a Swashbuckler Rogue to turn him into a high-seas swindler.

Race and Background

Cumulonimbus is a Human, but I want a feat so he’s a variant human instead. This gives him +1 Dexterity and Constitution, proficiency in Deception, and the Silver Tongued feat from unearthed arcana.This bumps your Charisma score up by 1, and you double your proficiency bonus when it comes to deception checks. You can also replace one of your weapon attacks with a contested skill check: your deception vs. their insight. If you succeed, you can move without provoking attacks from them, and your attacks have advantage against them until the end of your next turn. If you fail, they’re sick of your shit for an hour, and can’t be deceived in this way.

Unsurprisingly, Columbus is a Sailor, which gives him proficiency with Athletics and Persuasion. We’re changing things up a bit here, but you’ll need that silver tongue on longer voyages.

Ability Scores

Columbo’s highest stat is his Charisma; he’s a very clever leader, and an even more clever liar. Second is Wisdom, it’s like he can search things out using magic or something. If you’re going to survive a long ship voyage, your Constitution has to be solid as well. For your sealegs we’ll make your Dexterity better than average. That also helps with you running into fights wearing regular clothes. Your Strength isn’t that great, but we’re dumping Intelligence. We just don’t need it.

Class Levels

1. Ranger 1: Starting off as a ranger is cool, it gives you proficiency with Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as three ranger skills; Investigation for up close “treasure hunting”, and Perception to spot land just that little bit faster. You should also grab Stealth proficiency, it’ll make surviving in Chaldea a lot easier.

You would have gotten more skills by starting as a rogue, but starting here gives you extra health as well as Favored Enemies. Grab the two kinds of humanoids most akin to natives in your setting for advantage on survival and intelligence checks about them.

You’re also a Deft Explorer, which at level 1 makes you Canny with Deception checks, doubling your proficiency bonus. Take a shot every time I double your deception proficiency. You’ll take 3 shots, but that’s exponential, so it adds up quick. It’s still level 1, and you’ve got a +11 to deception, that’s pretty damn good.

2. Ranger 2: Second level rangers can get the Mariner fighting style, adding 1 to your AC while out of heavy armor, and giving you a swimming speed so getting knocked overboard isn’t a game over.

You can also cast Spells now using your Wisdom to cast them. Hunter’s Mark is a gimme since we’re not taking Favored Foe, but we’re also dipping into a third Unearthed Arcana for Wild Cunning, a ritual spell that gives you one of several effects. There’s a lot, but they mostly boil down to finding stuff important to survival more easily.

3. Ranger 3: As a Gloom Stalker ranger, you know the benefits of getting the drop on people better than anyone. Your Dread Ambusher takes the chillage out of your pillage by adding your wisdom modifier to your initiative rolls. Also on your first turn you get an extra 10′ of movement, you get an extra weapon attack, and that extra attack deals more damage. The conquistadors weren’t called the conquistadors because they were bad at conquisting.

You also get Umbral Sight thanks to all those nights of watching for the shore, making your dumb human eyes less dumb thanks to Darkvision. On top of seeing in the dark, you also count as invisible to any other creatures that rely on darkvision while in the shadows. Chris doesn’t have his own evade to be fair, but honestly with all the races having darkvision humans get screwed over so much that I’m willing to overlook it this time.

For this level’s spells, Hail of Thorns will give you some light weapons fire from your trusty ship. You also get Disguise Self for free from being a gloom stalker. It’s not in character, but again it’s free, and god knows you’d put it to good use.

4. Ranger 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to grab the Piercer feat, rounding up your dexterity for a bigger modifier and the ability to re-roll one die of piercing damage per turn. Also, your piercing crits deal an extra die of damage when they hit now!

5. Ranger 5: Fifth level rangers get an Extra Attack each attack action. You can still only use a crossbow once per turn, but you’ve got a sword, I’m not worried.

You also get second level spells! Locate Object is what we’re here for, but you also learn Rope Trick for free. Camping equipment was nice, but it’s time we set out for real treasure.

6. Rogue 1: Bouncing over to rogue gives you proficiency with Sleight of Hand, so you can finally get those darn eggs to stand straight. I don’t know why they made a Portuguese man obsessed with a Chinese myth, but whatever.

You also get Expertise in two skills, Perception will help you spot land faster, and Deception is basically just a meme at this point. Both of them get their proficiency bonus doubled. If you really wanted a crazy modifier out the gate you could’ve done this at second level for a +19 to deception, but instead you get it here for a +27. At this point you could totally lead someone on for the entirety of a pseudosingularity and not break a sweat! Not that you would, obviously.

You can also Sneak Attack with ranged/finesse weapons (hey, look at your arsenal, what a coincidence) to deal an extra 1d6 damage to creatures that are next to allies or that you have advantage over. As the men of Agartha could say, you don’t fight fair.

Also: Thieves’ Cant. It’s a language.

7. Rogue 2: Second level rogues get Cunning Action, so now you can dash, disengage, or hide as an action. You’re always moving forward. And sometimes, “forward” means “as far away from the people you’ve conned as possible”.

8. Rogue 3: Is making a sailor a Swashbuckler stereotypical? Probably. Either way your Fancy Footwork means you can ignore attacks of opportunity from creatures you’ve made a melee attack against, and your Rakish Audacity adds your charisma modifier to your initiative rolls. So now your initiative can be added to your growing list of character traits with silly modifiers thanks to its +8. Also, you can sneak attack against creatures when you’re dueling them.

Also also, your sneak attack is 2d6 now.

9. Rogue 4: Use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity for more accurate attacks and less accurate attacks against you.

10. Rogue 5: Use your Uncanny Dodge to get those sea legs working, dodging well enough as a reaction to avoid half the damage from an attack. And your attacks are scarier now, thanks to a 3d6 sneak attack!

11. Rogue 6: Use this round of Expertise to double up on Persuasion to figure how where people keep their valuables and Sleight of Hand to slip them into your pockets while no one’s looking.

12. Rogue 7: Admittedly, Chrissy Boy doesn’t have an evade skill, but he does get Evasion anyway, making his failed dexterity saves deal half damage and successes deal 0. I mean his guts arguably does the same thing at low health, but now we’re quibbling.

Also, 4d6 on sneak attack.

13. Rogue 8: We’ll go back to ranger soon, but first grab another ASI to bump up your Wisdom, speeding up your initiative and making your spells a bit stronger.

14. Ranger 6: It’s been a while, huh? You get another two humanoids to add to your Favored Enemies so you can terrorize a wider swath of natives, as well as Roving from the Deft Explorer goodiebag to speed yourself up and swim no matter what you’re wearing.

15. Ranger 7: Seventh level Gloom Stalkers have an Iron Mind, helping you keep your head on straight even during long voyages. Or against wisdom saves. Honestly the latter’s way more common, let’s go with wisdom saves. You have proficiency now, is what I’m saying.

We’ve also been seriously neglecting your magical damage, so pick up Magic Weapon so you aren’t mostly useless against a demon.

16. Ranger 8: Use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity one more time for better guns and AC. You can also use Martial Versatility to swap out your Mariner fighting style since it overlaps with roving, but I like it where it is. To be fair you could also make Columbus a Triton barbarian, but then he wouldn’t be Columbus.

You also learn Land’s Stride, which lets you ignore nonmagical difficult terrain, and you have advantage against magical difficult terrain like the one caused by Entangle.

17. Ranger 9: Ninth level rangers get third level spells like Conjure Barrage, which lets you conjure... a barrage. Like Hail of Thorns, this is basically your cannons firing off in the background. You also learn Fear for free. That smile is pretty creepy, after all.

18. Rogue 9: Ninth level swashbucklers get another feature, Panache, letting you make a persuasion check against a creature’s insight as an action. If they’re friendly, they become charmed. If they’re unfriendly, they have disadvantage on other creatures, and can’t make opportunity attacks against other creatures.

Personally I like Silver Tongued’s version better for combat, but the added utility is nice. Also, 5d6 sneak attack. That’s important.

19. Rogue 10: Grab the Tough feat with your last ASI for an extra 38 HP now and two more at level 20. You’ve survived at sea for over a month without getting mutinied, and you’ve got guts. Literally.

20. Rogue 11: Eleventh level rogues get 6d6 sneak attack as well as Reliable Talent, meaning you can’t roll lower than a 10 when using skills you’re proficient with. This means you’re guaranteed to roll at least a 16 on Athletics, a 25 on Persuasion, and a 61 on Deception.

Pros:

You are really good at deception. Like, ridiculously good. Like, literally can’t fail good. A minimum roll of over 60, in a game where DC 30 “nearly impossible”, is dumb. Especially since you can weaponize that check thanks to your UA feat.

Speaking of, if you’re willing to only make 1.5 attacks a turn instead of 2, you’ve basically got guaranteed advantage thanks to that feat.  That’s really useful when it comes to setting up your sneak attacks.

You’re also pretty tanky, with almost 200 HP and most of the rogue’s abilities to avoid damage. You don’t have your own healing, but I’m sure you can talk Medea into helping out.

Cons:

Your casting modifier is only a +3, so your spells aren’t as strong as they could be. Most of them don’t use your modifier at all, but expect your cannons to be a bit lackluster.

You will never need to roll a 61 on deception. You could have used that Canny on another skill to make two skills busted, but when you gotta flex you gotta flex.

You are playing Christopher Columbus.

#fate grand order #FGO #dnd 5e #D&D #Rider of Resistance

[t-lostinworlds]

All Too Real (Tom Holland)

A/N: Well, this was longer than expected. I’ve had this idea in a while, and it feels great to finally do something about it aha. Also, I’m not going to tag my permanent taglist here since most of the people who are in there are for Shawn. BUT with that being said, tell me if you want to be added to a permanent taglist for Tom fics only or both Tom and Shawn. Am I making sense? Prolly not lmao but yeah. hope you guys enjoy this one!

Pairing: Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Summary: You were meant to be acting, but the scene just hits too close to home that you've managed to say the wrong name, then everything just felt all too real.

Warnings: A bit of Angst and my usual typos

Word Count: 9.7k+

Masterlist in Bio

-:-:-:-:-

You didn't know who your leading man was until the very last minute, making it impossible to back out now.

Not only that, but you'd be risking a big opportunity if you decided not to take the part, the lead role to be exact. This was a big movie with big, well-known directors and it will guarantee to boost your career to the next level being that you're just starting off as an actress. This was your moment and you weren't going to jeopardize that just because of a personal reason. Plus, contractually, there was no turning back.

The movie was a mixture of crime, action, drama and romance, and it was already a given in the script that you'd be playing across a leading man.

You just had no idea it was going to be him.

Production starts tomorrow and you just found out that you're in a movie with non-other than Mr. Tom Holland himself.

Spider-Man to the world, ex-boyfriend in yours.

It was not public knowledge that you two used to be together. A very impressive thing being that your relationship lasted for about two years, yet not a single word got out. Nobody knew about you two except your closest friends and family, and both of you were happy to keep it that way for as long as you can until you both were ready to share your relationship with the world. But things happened and you didn't get a chance to do so.

You met Tom on the set of Captain America: Civil War. You were just a mere extra at that time as you were still trying to find your footing in the industry. He, on the other hand, had just finished his screen test with Chris Evans as he solely told you.

It was lunch time when this cute boy wearing this, almost a crossover between the Spider-Man costume and pajamas, went up behind you to grab some food.

You two talked for a little bit, asking about what you're doing here and all that jazz, until he charmed his way into asking for your number. And everything just kicked off from there really.

It was blissful while it lasted, the both of you, young and so in love. Nothing but pure happiness and adoration as your relationship took its course and blossomed into this wonderful thing. It was almost like a fairytale how lovely it was. So beautiful to see the joy in the two of you, even with those sweet little moments that you shared. That until the success of his first solo film as Spider-Man.

Him shooting the movie brought no problems at all as you were there to support him through and through. Hell, not even during the press junket where he's always traveling, that didn't cause any strain between your relationship as you've managed to make it work. But once the numbers started rolling in and the attention got bigger, that's where you got left behind.

You were still finding your way as an actress but you didn't seem to get the same amount of support from him as he did from you as time went by. He did at the start of course, he was your number one fan, but once he found his big break, you just got pushed to the side.

Somehow, in some odd way, a switch was flipped. He became distant, almost cold all of the sudden.

It was almost like he became too good for you in a way. Other people made you feel like you were nothing to him, that you weren't on his level and that took its toll on you. But the most hurtful part was that he didn't even bother to reassure you that, that wasn't the case at all.

There was this constant battle in your brain as you tried to reassure your own self with your relationship with him. That this was just nothing, that he was just busy, and that he loves you still. But clubbing out with friends most of the time doesn't really qualify as being busy now does it?

The logical part of you just keeps nagging that it was over. That there was nothing to hold on to, even if you hopefully wished there was something still there, that you can still save this relationship.

But no, it was all gone.

He broke up with you some time later. He said he wanted to enjoy life without worrying about anything, without worrying about you. He wants to enjoy his new found life while being single, in other words.

He was basically saying that you were holding him back, and to be honest? He was probably right. He made you feel that he was right.

The break up wasn't sunshine and butterflies at all. Voices were raised, words were thrown, and everything just burst into flames. When he shut the door and left, everything just turned to ashes, the remains of your heart along with your relationship. It was dark, cold and just painful to the point that you've lost yourself after that.

You took all the blame. All of it.

For months on end you kept telling yourself that if you were just good enough, if you were successful enough, then maybe he wouldn't have left you. You kept beating yourself up for something he has done and that never is healthy, telling yourself that it's your fault when in fact, it wasn't.

It took a lot of will-power to snap out of it, being that you are the most critical about yourself. But you've managed to push through, worked harder than ever before to get yourself out there and to make a name for yourself.

And here you are, about to star as the lead role of a big film.

You are far better than you were a year ago, definitely. But have you fully healed? No.

Distracting is not healing.

You kept yourself busy with your career and it has help you to not ever confront your pain. It was always shoved aside as you paid it no mind. You even avoided anything about him for that matter, in hopes that you wouldn't be reminded of that certain hurt that only he has caused. You've just been running away from it, running away from the demons of your past.

But now, there was nowhere to run.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you earlier Y/N. I just got scared that you might turn the role down if you found out he was going to be in it too and it's just a big opportunity and I can't live with myself if I had let it slipped away from you." Your manager rushed her words on the other side of the call, the concern in her voice clear because she knows. She knows what you went through with Tom.

"No it's okay Jeanne. I understand why you did it and I really thank you for that. Another thing I owe to you." You stated truthfully. If it wasn't for her, you wouldn't have had that extra push that you needed to get you where you are today. And you were glad you've found someone who only has her best intentions when it came to you and your career.

"I–uhm, am I shooting scenes with him tomorrow too?" You added as a whisper, despite the fact that you were alone in your hotel room at the moment. Scared that if you'd say it any louder, the pain in your chest would only grow deeper and sharper.

"Yes, he is going to be there tomorrow." She answered, empathy laced in her tone and you can just picture the frown she has on her face.

You bit your bottom lip as you stared up at the ceiling. This is going to be a hard movie to shoot that's for sure. But you're a professional; you can just brush it off like it's nothing. "Okay, yeah, okay. I'll see you tomorrow Jeanne." You breathed out.

"Get some rest hun. You've got this." And with that you ended the call, your whole body flopping down on your bed as you let out a frustrated groan.

The universe truly does have its ways in making you face the person who you have been avoiding—so successfully so far—in order to spare yourself the heartache.

With one last sigh, you pulled the covers over your body, waiting for sleep to take over so that you can have a much needed rest.

It was going to be a long day tomorrow after all.

* * *

Two hours was all you got.

Two hours of sleep as you lay restless in your bed just thinking about all the millions of possibilities on what could happen once you see him again for the first time after a year.

No matter how hard you tried to shut him out of your thoughts, he still managed to invade it even after all this time. The past was haunting you, he was haunting you and it was like you were back to that night again.

You feel so disappointed in yourself as you found your way back to old ways, crying about a boy who doesn't even give a single damn about you.

It took all the courage and strength in your body to leave the bed in the morning. A struggle to say the least until you slapped some sense into yourself and finally made your way to set.

You just arrived in the nick of time. It wouldn't be ideal to arrive late on the first day of shooting as you wanted to let them see that you are a respectful and respectable actress, so managing to be just on time, it was a great start of your day.

Even more so when you felt the hot cup of coffee warming up your fingers as you held it in your hands. The smell of freshly roasted coffee beans enough to boost your energy, especially with so minimal sleep.

There was no sign of him so far, and you were thankful to at least have time to breathe and just relax. No matter how little that time may be, you will definitely take it.

You've already met the Russo brothers who were both sweet and kind, both expressing their excitement to start the project that they've been so amped up to do.

After the casual chats, introductions and greetings, a young lady then guided you to where the trailers are going to be parked. Opting out of her offer to take you right at the door as you solely can manage yourself. But you also wanted some time to take in everything that you've seen so far because it was a big and amazing set, and just to take a moment to ground yourself in a way. Somewhat grasp every bit of alone time as you wouldn't have one until the end of the shoot, which was going to be later in the night.

You were on your way there when you suddenly heard something running after you, the sound of the pebbles rustling about growing nearer and nearer which was then followed by a loud bark. Surely enough when you turned around, you saw the prettiest dog, hurdling towards you with a wide smile on her face. That cute face that you'll always recognize from a mile away.

"Tessa?" You grinned wide as you squatted down to greet her, expecting a subtle encounter but no, she full on jumped on you making you fall flat on your bum. Genuine laughter erupted out of you as you tried to keep yourself sitting upright, all while making sure not to spill your coffee. You were sat cross-legged on rocks now but you didn't care, too preoccupied with the love Tessa was smothering you.

"Hi angel! How are you my love? You good? Healthy? Happy?" You gushed in a small voice, giggling when she covered your face in kisses, you not minding by one bit as you rubbed her belly in return.

You were too engrossed with Tessa that you didn't even notice that someone was already standing there, just watching, not until you heard your name.

"Y/N..."

You didn't have to look up to know who it was.

Having heard your name slip out of those lips countless of times, all on so many different occasions, there was no need for you to see who that voice belonged to.

It wasn't even above a whisper, but you heard it, the sound of longing etched in his voice, that certain tone that you've heard endlessly but only... only whenever he misses you.

And you wanted nothing more than to curse him out because how dare he? How dare he act like he cares when he didn't show any of that—not even in the slightest—that night he left you?

You were already filled with so many emotions and that's only from hearing his voice, you haven't even looked up to fully see him yet.

"Tom." You sighed, giving the back of Tessa's ear one last scratch before standing up fully, patting your jeans clean before gathering up the strength to finally look up at him in the eyes.

The way your heart stopped for a full second and then beat again but with twice the pace, never have you felt that in your life.

You stood frozen as you stared right into them, those brown orbs that once felt like home, but now only brings nothing but pain. And the way he was looking at you so longingly, it only added anger in the mix.

"Hi."

Tom knew he fucked up.

He knows how bad he screwed things up. He was fully aware of how much he's lost and how much of an idiot he is for being the reason of that in the first place.

You were finally standing right in front of him, in the flesh, in all your gorgeous glory, and Tom was at a loss for words.

He was talking to the Russos when Tessa suddenly bolted full speed. Not having familiar with the set yet, Tom was quick to run after her in fear that she might get lost, but he ended up finding her with a sight that was heartwarming yet heartbreaking at the same time.

He heard your laugh first. That familiar and beautiful sound enabling his heart to beat rapidly against his chest, even more so when he saw you sat on the ground with Tessa, nothing but pure joy and love radiating off of his princess, and the love that he once had.

The sight was beautiful, so endearing and it warmed him up inside, but it also reminded him of what it once was.

God he was a fucking idiot.

"Long time no see." Your voice snapped him back to senses, a soft blush coating his cheeks because he doesn't know how long he's been staring at you, but by the gods above you look absolutely breathtaking. Even in just casual jeans and a sweater.

"Yeah, it's great to finally see you again. You look beautiful." Tom breathed out, the last sentence escaping his mouth before he could even stop himself.

Tom might have been acting like such a creep but he just feels so happy to see you again. You probably wouldn't even believe him if he told you, not after what he's done, and he can't blame you. But he does, he truly does feel so happy.

"Thanks." You mumbled as you flashed him a smile. Whether it was genuine, Tom wasn't sure, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"How are you?" He asked just as he took a step towards you, but you were quick to take one step back and this made a frown form on his lips. The way you looked away and avoided his gaze, it stung, but Tom also can't say he didn't deserve it.

"I'm good, but uh, I need to get ready so uh—"

"Yes! Yes, of course, don't let me hold you off." Tom chuckled coyly, hand coming up to rub his shoulder, and just like that, the awkwardness in the air only heightened from there. Because after everything that has happened, Tom wasn't sure where he stands in your life anymore. Whether it be a civil friend or just a cast mate at this point.

When the Russos pitched him the idea, it was a no-brainer, Tom wanted to do the project right off the bat. But when he found out who the star of the movie was going to be? Nothing but pure excitement and much pride filled him up to the bones.

He has seen most, if not, all of the movies you've been in. Visiting your social media every now and then to see what you've been up to. It may sound stalker-ish in a sense but it's the only way for him to keep up with how you've been doing. And to see you grow and be the star that you were always meant to be? It was a beautiful thing for sure.

It might not have been as beautiful as experiencing it with you first hand, since he ruined that chance by a long shot, it was still heartwarming to witness—even if it was only via screen.

"Yeah, see you on set." You mumbled, giving him a curt nod before turning your attention back on the dog who was just sitting there, observing, tail on an all-time wag once she's seen that you've finally given her your attention again.

"I'm so happy to see you again angel." You whispered as you crouched back down to give Tessa a sweet kiss on the head, and Tom's heart completely melted at that.

You were there when Tom got Tessa.

He hasn't said it out loud nor broadcasted it in any way, but you became Tessa's mommy in the duration of your relationship. You took care of her while he was away on press or shoots, and he will forever be grateful for that.

Tessa was your baby as much as she is Tom's, and it now just dawned on him that he took her away from you. And Tom felt even more of an asshole than he already was.

You shot him one last look before you turned on your heel, not ever once looking back as you walked towards what Tom would only assume was your trailer.

Tessa was about to follow you but Tom was quick to grab her collar, squatting down to hold her fully to keep her in place because she was for sure putting up a fight. "No Tessa, you stay with me."

The poor pup whined once you were out of sight, looking up at Tom with those eyes emitting a soft sigh out of him. He nodded his head solemnly, giving Tessa's head a soft pat as his eyes slowly landed back on the closed door of your trailer.

"I know love, I missed her so much too."

* * *

Tom was watching from afar, he just couldn't help himself, but he doesn't exactly know which of you is which yet.

All he sees is there are two girls dressed in identical, all black and leather outfits, both have their hoods up with backs turned on him. He knows one of them was you and the other was your stunt double, he just can't seem to differentiate who is who as of the moment.

"Okay now Tom, you already know how the scene goes. The first time Detective Allan Spade, your character, meets Luna. They've known each other before so you are basically going to be surprised that the sweet innocent girl, who's your childhood best friend and then dated up until college was now a well-trained and elite assassin." Joe was the one to interrupt Tom's ogling since Anthony was at your side giving notes too. One of the perks of having two directors on set is that you can speed things up a bit. The set was built quite large so it definitely was a plus.

It was the first scene of the day and they were starting it off with an action sequence, one with cars, explosions, gun shots and the likes. It wasn't the first take for the rest but it was for Tom, being that they perfected some of stunts first, which was mostly done at the end of the set far across from him.

He didn't get to see who was doing which stunt because your character's costume has you covered in almost head to toe, making it impossible to know without having a closer look.

He was very excited though, maybe even too much that his mind sometimes flies off to somewhere—or rather, someone—instead of focusing more with the task at hand.

"Okay, yeah, gotcha." Tom nodded frantically as he cleared his throat. His arms were crossed over his chest as the heat rose up his cheeks once Joe looked at him curiously. "You okay? You seem a bit preoccupied?"

"Just a lil tired but I'm alright." Tom chuckled shyly as he looked down, the director only nodding as he added. "We're going to try and have one fluid shot with this scene so once you see her jump over the hood of your car, you quickly get out to your marker and aim your gun."

Tom hummed with a smile to let Joe know that he's listening attentively. The director gave him one last pat on the shoulder before turning back to the crew.

"Okay places everyone!" And with that, Tom got inside of a car that was hooked up to a wire rigging. It was only going one way but in top speed, so safety first is a must, hence why he isn't allowed to really drive it.

Tom already had his hands on the wheel, his head turning just enough to see a girl or Luna as he would refer—to which he assumed was your stunt double—hooked up to a trust and wires. She stood on top of a car that was situated in the middle of a chaotic road.

The sight was hectic enough with a number of cars littered everywhere—some overturned, some on fire—and a few bodies of supposed police offers sprawled on the pavement. Luna threw her hand up with thumb upturned to signal that she was ready to do the scene.

"Set and action!" And everything then just sprung to life.

Gun shots echoed throughout the space as explosions went off here and there. The car Luna was standing on drove full speed and came to a screeching halt in an attempt to shake her off. But the sudden movement only enabled her to jump off and flip right on time, so smoothly and with much grace. She landed on the ground with a roll, pausing for a second in a crouching position to let the camera capture the moment before she was full on sprinting again.

Tom's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he watched her approach, incredibly fast and nimble, dodging the cars and bullets coming after her with so much ease as if they were whizzing past her in slow motion, all while maintaining such poise in doing so.

With the signal, Tom stepped on the gas pedal hard, perfectly in sync as his car lurched forward in an attempt to catch her off guard, but just as it came right in front of her, she jumped and slid herself over the hood, landing down on the ground crouching.

Before she could even make another move, Tom had already gotten out of his car, the sound of the gun clicking stopping her in her tracks.

"Hands up where I can see them!" Tom growled, gun firm in hand as he slowly approached her, eyebrows furrowed as he glared at the figure right in front of him.

She stood up carefully with both hands held up in surrender, the silence in the air suddenly ringing as she turned around with her head hanging low, covering her face completely. That until she slowly lifted her hood off.

"Woah." Tom sucked in a breath, completely caught off guard as he stared at none other than star of the movie herself, you.

Sure, half of your face was covered with a mask, but he just knows it's you and it really took him utterly by surprise.

Tom genuinely did think your stunt double was doing this scene as the action sequence wasn't in anywhere near easy, but he'd recognize those eyes anywhere.

To say he was thoroughly impressed would be an understatement.

But knowing you for the time that he has, Tom knows how much of a hardworking woman you are. So seeing that you will likely do all of your stunts, it wasn't at all surprising to come and really think about it.

Still, Tom was speechless as he kept staring at you, and it was like there was no acting required as he slowly lowered the gun to see you more. His eyes not seeming to believe that it was you standing in front of him. Perfectly on script.

It felt so new to him seeing you in a different element, seeing you look even more beautiful and extremely sexy with that much tattered, faded leather and straps hugging your body.

You were wearing those long boots that stopped mid-thigh paired with shorts that were ripped on the edges, an almost gothic type of a hooded cloak swaying with the air, making it look even more promising that you can definitely kill. You look like you just came out of an Assassin's Creed video game, but more on the modern side. And instead of swords and knives, you've got guns.

Your eyes on the other hand were on a different level.

They were threatening to say the least. The glare was so intense that Tom actually felt like you were about to hand his ass over to him. Those sweet eyes he's grown to adore was masked by this menacing and dark look and he just keeps getting more impressed as he goes on. He wouldn't want to meet you in this state in an alleyway—or anywhere for that matter—that's for sure.

He definitely hasn't seen you like this before and boy was it making his head spin, and dare he say it, it was making him feel all hot.

You were fully in your badass mode and Tom wasn't sure if he was scared or extremely attracted, or maybe even both at the same time.

"And cut!"

And then you giggled.

Tom has let go of a girl who can definitely do both. As if he wasn't a big enough idiot already.

"Was that good?" Your voice was muffled by the face mask you were wearing, but Tom can just hear that wide smile on your face. You really just had to make him soft by being all cute and sweet again.

Oh you were giving him a whiplash that will surely be the death of him.

"Nailed it! Both of you!"

"Really? And, uh, can I have some water please?" You giggled shyly, only sparing Tom a second of a glance before your eyes was back on a girl who brought you a bottle of water.

This made him frown involuntarily, curios eyes looking at you as a certain pang hits his chest.

She's still mad at you and rightfully so.

Tom ran a hand through his hair with a sigh as his eyes casted itself on the ground. He was starting to go deep in thought as to what he should do to make things clearer for the both of you, but he got interrupted when Anthony approached him to give a few notes and directions for the next part of this scene.

So Tom just shoved his thoughts to the side and decided that when the time is right, you two will get to talk eventually.

* * *

It was the last scene of the day to which you're a little bit relief by. You were pretty much drained to the bone and you can't wait for the day to be over. But with one downside: it's also the scene that you've been dreading the most.

It was a flashback scene of your character and Tom character's falling out. It was sort of the last straw to break her completely that would then be one of the reasons that pushes her to become an assassin right after everything in her life has gone to hell.

It wouldn't have been too much of a big deal if it wasn't near what happened with you and Tom. But the case was, it was almost as identical as the night you and Tom broke up.

What a way of the universe to joke.

There were a couple of different scenarios sure, but the whole idea and vibe of the scene? It was like it was taken from the books of your very own life.

The set was whittled down now, the setting a residential area with an empty street in a cold night. You were out of your costume and in a simple knee-length dress and a denim jacket along with a pair of sneakers. A beanie sat atop your head as your hair fell down your shoulders freely.

It was tough trying to get into the headspace, as this was a heavy scene with so much crying involved, but it doesn't even take too long when all your mind could think of was that night.

"You okay?" Anthony asked as he furrowed his brows at you, concern written on his face as you've managed to look extremely crestfallen.

"Yeah, just getting into the zone." You laughed awkwardly, your heart getting heavier by the minute especially when you caught a glimpse of Tom approaching and then stopping just beside you.

"You've been incredible so far with all the action Y/N. But this scene in particular, I want you to channel all your deep emotions. You character has been through so much, loss of a father, an addict mother, the society looking down at you and then the only person who you trust and love starts to change and turn his back on you." You only nodded at Anthony's direction since your mind was already there. You've already experienced a few of the things your character has, so it wasn't hard to tap into those emotions.

You can feel Tom's stare just burning a hole through the side of your head, but never did you spare him a glance. You aren't sure if you're strong enough to keep your tears at bay. Probably best to just save it for the scene.

"You Tom, you've just gotten popular with the crowd, new friends, and people seem to love you and you only see her as like a hindrance to your joy because she starts asking for your attention. You kinda see her anger at you as her not wanting to see you happy or her being jealous of your success. You've been blinded by a lot of stuff so you become a jerk to her basically." It would be funny to think that Anthony was basically telling Tom to act the way he acted that particular night, but none of you were in the state of mind to find even the smallest humor in the situation at hand.

"Yeah okay, yeah." Tom cleared his throat, the tension in the air getting thicker by the minute that even Joe had to butt in. "Are you two okay? You both look like you've seen a ghost." The older brother asked as he stood beside Anthony.

"Yeah!" Both you and Tom almost squeaked in unison. You can feel the heat rush to your cheeks as you forced a smile. "Never better." You breathed out.

Tom was still staring at you; you can just feel it, and you so wished he would just stop. It wasn't helping your case at all, especially when he's got those messy brows furrowed by the looks of it in the corner of your eye, indicating that he was deep in thought.

"You guys have the freedom to improvise your lines, don't be afraid to stray away from the actual lines on the paper but make sure that you don't necessarily change the scene."

Without further more questions, you were finally ushered to your places. You kept your eyes on the ground while you stood in front of a screen door, hands in the pockets of your jacket as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

"Ready and action!"

You grabbed the screen door open as you slowly made your way inside. Different colored lights were flickering around as few people gave you looks because everyone knows you weren't invited to this party. You acted unbothered but your eyes were telling a different story.

Reaching the living room, the couch was where you saw him. He sat comfortably with arms outstretched on the back of the sofa, a girl right closely beside him as they whispered to each other's ear, rather too flirtatiously.

You stood there and watched as she got all too friendly with her hands, trailing up and down his chest as he didn't bother to do anything about it. Tears were welling up your eyes, but you willed yourself to stay focused, even if it wasn't necessarily full on acting as it was quite a familiar sight to see.

And with the cue, Tom looked up to meet your gaze and you held it, just long enough for the camera to pick up. The expression on his face was quick to change as he stood up abruptly. That was your indication to leave, so you turned around and rushed out of the house, the camera following closely behind you.

You were now on an empty street as he ran behind you, the set eerily quiet letting his footsteps echo loudly against the wet pavement. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you kept your head low, holding the tears in since it wasn't time for that yet.

"Wait, just wait a second. It's not what it looks like." Tom rushed as he grabbed your arm, but you shrugged it off and kept on walking, making sure not to take too long of the strides for you not to miss the marker.

"Of course it isn't." You scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

"Just listen to me will you?" He called out in exasperation, but you didn't even bother to turn around and give him a look. "I don't want to listen to you anymore. Just go back and have fun with your so called lady friend." You said dismissively, seeing your mark to be one step more and once you reached it, and he reached his, his voice boomed.

"Why are you being such a bitch?" You stopped in your tracks and slowly turned around to finally face him, a look of absolute hurt written on your face as his only showed nothing but pure frustration.

"I can't do this anymore." You whispered with a shake of your head, blinking away the tears as you looked up at the dark sky.

"Can't do what?" Tom scoffed as he took a step forward but he kept a good distance, eyebrows furrowed in anger with his arms crossed over his chest to seem intimidating, and it was working. You knew it was all acting, but it just looked so believable that it took a sharp swing at your heart.

"This, us, you. I can't deal with you and your stuck up attitude anymore." You gestured between the both of you and then all of him, voice cracking as you willed yourself to keep eye contact. It was so hard to stay in character and balance your emotions at the same time, because the way he was looking at you, was the same way as he did that night he left.

Tom looked away with a sarcastic laugh. "Oh so now I'm stuck up? What did I do wrong this time?" You shook your head in disbelief at his words. "So many things, you're just too blind to see it."

"Then lay them the fuck out!" He snarled with one step forward, eyes boring furiously into yours that it almost made you take a step back. But you kept your ground, glaring at him with the same intensity as you threw your hands up in the air.

"Fine! You want me to lay it out for you? You've changed! Now that you've found your way in life and found a new group of friends suddenly you're too good for me. Suddenly you're mister successful while I'm the trash who follows you around." You barked back, his resolve wavering for a little bit as he grumbled. "You know that's not true."

"But it fucking is! You make me feel like I'm nothing compared to you! I'm your girlfriend but you can't seem to spend even a minute with me since you're out with your new friends a lot. And if you do give me a spare of your time you get mad for no goddamn reason! It's like you don't even want to be near me! Like I'm a disease to you and your new life! You think so highly of yourself now that you act like I'm some low class person as if we didn't grow up together!" The accusation in your voice was clear as day, and the way Tom's jaw clenched to show that you've hit a nerve, it scared you.

"Then maybe you should take the hint to do something better with your boring life so you can stop messing with mine!"

That was when you lost it. Any sense of what's real and what's just an act, you lost it.

"Start doing something with your own goddamn career and life and stop meddling with mine Y/N! I'm so sick of your shit!"

Your brain started to spiral out of control and suddenly you weren't on set anymore, you were back at the apartment, head in your hands as you cried your eyes out, the loud bang of the door slamming shut ringing in your ears.

A single tear ran down your cheek as you stared at him in shock, breath caught in your throat as you felt your whole body tremble. You struggled to form your words, your eyes shutting tight enabling more tears to run down your face as you breathed out. "I have always been there for you. All I ask is for you to be there for me too." It sounded like a plea, soft, desperate but very painful that Tom almost broke character. Almost.

"It's not my obligation to carry your failures for you." He stated with so much venom and ice that you could only nod defeatedly, lips quivering as you held his gaze for one more second before your eyes casted itself on the ground.

"That's not what I meant but fine. I will not be a burden to you anymore." Your voice sounded so small and frail, and it was taking everything in your power not to snap, to just walk away for it to be done. But he just had to have the last word now didn't he?

"So now what you're just going to leave and give up on us?"

You don't know what it was but something in his tone or words triggered you. After a year of bottling it in, months on end of it slowly reaching its boiling point, you finally blew up. You took a step towards him as you gave him a hard shove, the sudden action catching Tom totally off-guard making him stumbled back.

"Yes! Because I'm so fucking done! I'm so done with thinking every single day if I will ever be good enough for you!" You sobbed, the tears free falling down your face but you didn't care as you continued to yell at him.

"I gave you everything that I had! I was there for you day in day out! But you still treated me like shit! You made me feel like I didn't matter to you even in the smallest of ways and that fucking hurt so bad because you mean the whole world to me! You pushed me aside like we didn't went through anything! As if all our memories together was wiped off your brain and that hurts! It hurts to see you look at me like I'm some stranger, like I'm someone you hate so much even if I didn't do anything wrong to you! I've done nothing but love you. I—I loved you so much and all you did was hurt me in return. No matter how hard I tried, it still wasn't enough because you left me! You broke my heart when you said you'd take care of it. After all of your promises you broke all of me Tom!"

Tom froze at the mention of his name.

The anger on his face was quick to dissipate, replaced by a look of nothing but pure guilt. Tom's heart broke completely as he watched you break down in front of him, so vulnerable, so hurt, all because of him. "I–"

"No! You're not getting the last word this time. I've had enough. I am done." Your voice broke at the end of your sentence, turning around hurriedly and ran off shot, leaving Tom standing there frozen and stunned.

You covered your mouth to try and muffle your sobs, attempting to run back to your trailer to escape the prying eyes but Anthony stopped you, hands resting gently on your shoulders as he held you in arms-length. "Y/N, are you okay?" You shook your head no, your tears pouring even more at his question.

"Can I have a minute for some air please?" You stammered, vision blurry with all the tears but you still saw Anthony only nodding, eyebrows knitted in concern. "Go, take all the time that you need."

You breathed out a soft thank you and ran, back to your trailer, slamming your door closed and flipping the lock as you collapsed on the floor.

* * *

It took Tom a minute for everything that has happened to wrap around his head. Your words repeating itself over and over and he wanted nothing more than to beat himself up, black and blue.

He knew he hurt you but he could only just imagine how much, up until he saw your eyes as you looked at him with nothing but pure betrayal.

The pain in them were so real and Tom knew at that moment that you weren't even pretending anymore. You weren't acting but reliving that night again, he can just see it in your eyes. You weren't addressing him as his character, no; you were addressing him as himself, Tom Holland, the guy who broke you to pieces.

Tom should've just scrapped everything and held you. He should've said fuck it to the scene and just pulled you in his arms. But the thought crossed his mind a moment too late.

He stayed in his place completely still before he was snapped out of his state when Joe approached him, the director's face painted with confusion and concern. "Tom what was that? Is there something going on between you two that you're not telling us?"

Tom didn't bother to answer his question as he looked around set, the worry in him increasing when he saw no sign of you. "Where is she?"

"I think she went back to her trailer. Wait where are yo—"

"I'll explain later." Tom called out as he ran out of set. He needed to find you and set things straight. Tom needs to tell you the full truth, tell you what's he's been feeling the past year. He wasn't going to let himself make the same mistake twice.

* * *

Sobs raked your body as you rest your back against the door, knees held to your chest in a curling position. Your eyes burning with your lungs as you cried and cried, because even if you tried to stop, you just couldn't. You couldn't find the will to erase the thought of him leaving you. That image has burned itself in your mind and it hurts, so fucking bad and you just want it to go away.

A whine from the opposite side made you lift your head up from your knees, eyebrows furrowing together once you heard it again, but louder this time. "Tessa?" You sniffled, and she barked in confirmation, scratching at the door in an attempt to get to you. Your frown deepened at the sound of her crying on the other side. She knows fully well when you're upset, and she will do anything to be beside you no matter what. It was such a sweet thing she does. Tessa's been there beside you whenever she finds you crying, she was your comfort buddy, and today, that still hasn't changed.

You stood back up to undo the lock to let her in, ready to have her hugs and kisses because they always make you feel better, but when you pulled it open, you weren't only greeted by her, he was standing right there too.

Before you could even slam the door shut he had already pushed the door wider and made his way inside, shutting it just behind him, and you made sure to step back, putting some much needed distance between you two. Of course he did. Tessa was in his trailer, there was no other way she could've gotten out without his help.

"You are a fucking dickhead for you using Tessa as bait Tom." You growled in pure annoyance, wiping away your tears aggressively as you wrapped your arms around yourself, avoiding his eyes at all costs as you stood right beside the couch where Tessa was laying down, just watching you with attentive eyes. You gave her a soft pat, distracting yourself from the man who stood there.

"I just need to talk to you, and I know you won't open the door if it was me." He was making his way towards you, but you were quick to hold your palm up, stopping him in his tracks and only making it halfway. You couldn't bear to be near him, at least not yet. Tom nodded, staying in his place as a soft sigh left his lips, "Please–"

"There's nothing left to talk about Tom." Your voice was hoarse, tears still falling down your face but not as much as before. "Yes there fucking is." He argued, desperation running through him as he tried his luck, taking another step forward. Tom just wants to be near you, to hold you and he almost shouted in glee when you didn't stop him.

"What do you want from me Tom?" You whispered, willing yourself to look at him, but only for a split second, because you couldn't bear to see his face without bursting into full on sobs again. But still, you saw it, the sadness in his features, and your walls were slowly cracking.

Tom kept inching closer and closer, and he was both relief and scared because it seemed like you weren't putting up a fight anymore, like you've somehow given up.

You were tired, both emotionally and physically, so you didn't bother to take a step back once he grew nearer. You were tired of running, maybe it was time for you to finally face him.

"I just want you to hear me out, please." Tom whispered, shaking hands slowly reaching out to hold your arms, and you let him. You let him touch you, the heat of his palms comforting you in some odd way. He was so close now and you know if you did as much as look up, you'd see nothing but his eyes, so you didn't, you can't yet. You glued your gaze on the ground, just seeing the tips of his shoes almost touching with yours, it was that close.

"You had time before to reach out Tom. Why now?" Your voice was low but broken, a question that's been in the back of your head the moment he set foot inside your trailer. "Because you looked happier and I didn't want to ruin it. I thought that you were better off without me."

You let out a sarcastic laugh, probably making you look like a complete lunatic with the tears covering your cheeks but you didn't care. Of course you look happy on screen. You had to. To fool the world and yourself, but it was always a lie, what you've shown online was just a glimpse of your life, not the full truth. "Well, clearly, I wasn't. Aren't you?"

"Fuck no. I wasn't happy without you. I know you probably won't believe me but I wasn't Y/N. I will never be better off without you." You only sniffled, still shaking your head, still not believing his words and Tom can't blame you. But he needs you to hear what he has to say, so when you stayed quiet, Tom took this opportunity to just let out what he's been holding in for how many months now.

"Darling I'm sorry, for everything that I've ever done and said to you. Fuck I know sorry doesn't even cut it but I am, I truly am sorry for hurting you my love." You let out a soft whimper at the nickname, eyes shutting tight as you shook your head at him. "Tom please don't–"

"No, no, I need you to hear this Y/N." Tom's hand went up to brush a hair behind your ear, then coming down to hold your chin up for you to look at him. It already hurts him so much just seeing you cry, and it stabbed his heart repeatedly just staring back at your pain filled eyes, the glow in them snuffed out and replaced by this broken soul.

Tom took one shaky breath before continuing. "What I did was horrible, and I know that it won't be easy for you to forgive me, and I understand if you won't ever. Hell I can't even forgive myself for what I did. I was stupid, fucking stupid for hurting you like that. I was a completely idiot for leaving you. You didn't deserve the way I treated you. You didn't deserve to get hurt like that at all. If could go back in time and take everything I said back, I would. The things that I've said, I didn't mean them, truly. I was so blinded, I was angry and got carried away, but still that's not an excuse. What I said was not okay, and it will never be. And I truly am sorry darling, I truly am."

Tom's voice broke at the end of his sentence, his heart clenching as he tried his best not to cry. He couldn't bear the thought of hurting you like that, it pains him just thinking about what he's put you through. The sheer amount of guilt and heartbreak was swallowing him whole and fast. Then there was also anger. He was so angry at himself for doing that to you, but what's done is done. The only thing he could do now was think about what lies ahead, hopefully, with you back in his arms.

"Y/N, I want you to know that... no, I need you to know that I still love you, I've never stopped loving you." Tom couldn't stop the tears from escaping his eyes, his bottom lip quivering as he spoke the words. The sob that you let out only broke his heart even more, your firm hands pressing against his chest as you tried to push him back. "No no no, you're just saying that. You don't mean that. Please don't lie to me Tom, please don't."

Tom shook his head as he bit his bottom lip to suppress a whimper. Both of his hands finding its way up to cup your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb as he pressed his forehead against yours. You kept your eyes shut tight, not finding even the smallest of strength to open them to see his face, looking at you so longingly.

"Look at me, baby, look at me." He pleaded, wanting you to see right through him, to look into his eyes and see the truth.

You took a few deep breaths as you wrapped your trembling fingers around his wrists, forcing yourself to open your eyes and gaze into his tear-filled brown orbs.

"I'm not lying to you. I love you, gosh I'm still madly in love with you Y/N." He breathed out with so much emotion, his words coming out as a soft whisper, but the truth was there, strong and firm for you not to miss it.

And who on earth were you kidding? Of course you still love him, you always have. And for the first time in a year, you let your heart take control over your brain; allowing you to push yourself up and let your lips capture his in a kiss filled with need and so much passion.

Tom was quick to kiss back, strong arms wrapping around your form as he pulled you closer to his body, his head spinning at the feeling of your warms lips back on his own after so long. Your fingers were lost in the mesh of his curls, the kiss wet due to a few more tears but neither of you cared because it felt like it belonged, like you two were finally home.

"I missed you so much." Tom groaned against your lips, walking you back slowly until you've reach the bedroom of your trailer, a slight confusion washing over you because the couch was right there, not that you're in a hurry or anything but... "Why–"

"Tessa." And with that he kicked the door shut, his action an enough answer because as much as you love the dog, she does have a habit of disturbing. A sweet giggle came out of you and Tom felt his heart melt at the beautiful sound, especially when it was filled with nothing but genuine amusement.

But that giggle was soon replaced by a soft gasp as Tom dipped his head to bring his kisses down to your neck, his hands pushing your jacket off your shoulders and letting it fall down the floor. That was when everything in your head got clouded, his lips on your skin a good enough distraction for both of you not to think straight.

Your hands found its way under his shirt, a shiver running down Tom's whole body because they were cold, but not for long. He shrugged his own jacket off and pushed you further back, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed allowing you to fall down the mattress with a soft thump. Tom pulled his shirt over his head and didn't waste a second more as he crawled on top of you right after, lips back on yours hungrily as he situated himself in-between your legs, your dress hiking up when you wrapped them around his waist.

Your fingers were tracing up and down his bare torso, Tom smirking between the kiss as he felt you run it over his toned abs. You bit his bottom lip as a warning to not be cocky, earning a deep groan from him, his hand coming down your thighs to give them a firm squeeze, the temperature in the room only getting higher as the clock ticked by.

But before any of you could take it a step further, a loud knock echoed itself on the whole trailer. Both of you wanted to ignore it but a voice soon then followed. "Tom, are you in there?"

The boy groaned as he buried his face on the crook of your neck, the two of you completely forgetting where you are as of the moment. Tom took deep breaths to calm himself down, your fingers running through the back of his head, playing with his hair as you did the same.

Once Tom caught his breath, he spoke, a hint of annoyance coating his voice. "What is it Harry?"

"They're looking for the both of you."

Tom sighed, propping himself up to look at you fully, beautiful face all flushed and he couldn't have seen a more gorgeous sight. "Be out in a minute." He called out, never letting his eyes off of you as if you'll disappear if he does, even for a split second. You didn't dare to move nor let out a single word. You just stared right into his eyes, so many emotions swimming in them but one that made your heart grow is the clear look of love, and for once, you felt safe under his gaze, safe and home.

"Come home with me tonight?" Tom asked shyly, fingers tracing your jaw in a loving manner. You thought about it for a second, all the doubt suddenly rushing back to you along with your brain just yelling at you to be extra careful, and you knew you just had to clear your head first before jumping right in the deep end. "Tom, I think I need to thin–"

"I know darling, I know. But please, just give me tonight. After that, I'll give you all the time and space that you need." You sighed knowing fully well you can't ever resist him, closing your eyes for a moment before nodding. A breath of relief escaped Tom's lips just as he presses it back on yours, but this time it was soft and sweet, kind of like a reassurance that he will be right here until you fully take him back, no matter how long that would take.

Tom unwillingly pulled away before things get heated again, standing up fully as he grabbed his shirt off the floor along with his jacket and slipping it on. He turned back to you with a sweet smile, offering both hands for you to take, interlacing your fingers in his once you did.

"Come on, we've got some explaining to do."

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[chibinekochan]

You get attacked by a demon and die *or not* - Lucifer

Requested by @nyx-daughterofchaos98

Angst

Triggers: Violence,Mention of Death and Blood/Injuries.

Happyending???? Maybe *no spoilers just a warning that there might be no saving the Mc/reader*

Lucifer x Reader

Words 2k *under the read more cause its long*

Your student council meeting has just ended. 

You had the job to keep a written protocol, and now you are packing your stuff. 

Lucifer is busy talking to some students. They take all of his attention. 

He doesn't see the demon that is targeting you. 

Lucifer is talking about something that seems important. 

Then suddenly BAM a loud noise, a crack and a scream. 

Lucifer looks over at the commotion. His eyes widen and before thinking he rushes over to the spot where you just sat. 

Nothing could have prepared him for this. 

You are laying on the floor, with a burned hole right in your middle. You are in schock and have not realized what just happened to you. 

Lucifer is pale and hovering over you. He uses his demonic power and tries to heal you. 

"Lucifer… What just happened?" You are confused and can't move to see the severe wound. 

"Don't move or speak." Lucifer is frozen inside. He has pictures of Lilith flashing in front of him. 

He can't let this happen again. Not again and not with you. You are still breathing and Lucifer can still save you.

Meanwhile you grow weaker by the second. 

You have lost a lot of blood. Lucifer's expression tells you everything you need to know. "I will die right?" You shake and you can feel tears in the corner in your eyes. You are scared. 

"No, don't you dare to say that. I will not let you die."Lucifer can feel life slipping away from you. His pact with you tells him as much. He grows more desperate with every passing second. Lucifer has lost someone like this once before. 

"Lucifer…" You are too weak to speak now. No matter how much demonic energy is inside of you right now, your life will only last a few more moments and you know it. You only see Lucifer in a blur right now. With your last strength you reach out to him, as to tell him that it's okay. 

Lucifer looks at you, knowing that he can't save you. He knows that this will mean that you will be judged and you are a good person. Lucifer knows that you deserve to be sent to heaven. 

Yet he can't let that happen. Not if it means losing you. "No! I will not let them take you." Lucifer has a strong determination in his eyes. He holds your hand, your heat is almost completely gone now. In a moment of sheer insanity he does the only thing that can let you stay by his side. Consequences be damned. Lucifer uses his power to transform you into a demon. Normally this would require an agreement or some form of consent. 

Lucky for him you already formed a pact with him. Of course there will be punishment for him. Lucifer doesn't care. He uses all of his powers to flood your body completely, and slowly turns it into a demon. 

Your body jolts, twists and turns, as if to fight against the demonic possession. 

Lucifer winces from seeing you like this. 

He holds your almost dead body close and let's you scratch and bite him. All to ease your pain, even if it's just a little. 

You don't have any idea what is happening to you. You only know that your body feels like it's on fire, you feel like something is inside you burning you. You scream from pain, you kick and struggle against whatever is holding you. 

Lucifer tires to calm you down. Pressing you closely to his body. Letting you do whatever you need to do. 

You slowly and painfully turn into something inhumane. You feel it bursting out of you, wings, claws, a tail and horns. You scream so much that you pass out from the pain and exhausting process. 

Lucifer is a bloody mess when he carries you to the nurses office. He denies any treatment and snaps at whoever is trying to address him. 

Lucifer only wants you to be treated for your injuries. He doesn't register anything else. 

You wake up several days later. 

Everything is hazy and you know that something has changed. 

You have changed. 

Weakly you open your eyes you look at your hands, they look normal. No claws to be seen. 

You feel a tiny bit of relief. 

Then you see Lucifer, still at your bedside. His wounds have healed but his clothes are bloody. 

You smell the old blood on him. Your eyes widen, you never could smell blood like this before. "Lucifer, what happened to me?" You look at him pleading for an answer. 

Lucifer is so glad that you are awake. He doesn't care about anything else right now. You might hate him soon but even that will be okay for him. 

"You almost got killed and to save your life I turned you into a demon." 

You look at yourself again confused. You pull your blanket down a bit. You look normal. Just like you did before. Yet you feel different. You know that this isn't what you were before.

You look at Lucifer again. You can't really comprehend what happened. You remember that something knocked you down. Lucifer was there and then it really hurt. "What did you do?"

"I used our pact and turned you into a demon. You look just like you did before but you also have a demon form now." Lucifer knows this must be hard to accept. He has barely come to terms with his own actions. 

"So, I am like you and your brothers now?" 

"It is similar to that." Lucifer tries to calmly explain it to you. 

You look at yourself. It's  hard to understand. 

You look at Lucifer again. "Does this mean that I can't go home?" You look at Lucifer, like you are begging him to tell you it's not true. 

"Yes, you can never return to the human world. I know it's not much but I want you to stay with me and my brothers as part of our family." Lucifer can't even imagine how this must be for you.

He feels guilty. Lucifer could not save you, he could only turn you into something else. He knows you never wanted this. It's wrong to expect you to be okay with it. Yet he hopes that you come to terms with it and do not completely resent him. 

You stare at him. "My family, do they know?" 

"They know that you died." Lucifer didn't tell them himself but he made sure that they know. 

"I'm not dead…"You feel angry, confused and sad. You never could even tell them that you were here in the first place and now you will not see them ever again. You have tears in your eyes. 

"I know but you can't leave the devildom." Lucifer looks at you full of sympathy, he has no idea how much turmoil your heart must be right now. 

"You can just open a gate." You don't understand any of this. 

"What I did was against the rules, and sadly you are banned from the Human realm. I have also lost my position and privileges. Including the ability to create a gate to the human realm. 

"I'm banned because you broke the rules?" You feel angry when you hear this. It is straight up unfair. 

Suddenly a new sensation fills your body. A completely new feeling unlike anything you have ever felt before. 

Your body is changing, without any effort or pain. 

Suddenly you can see that you have claws again. With shaking hands you feel your head and there are two horns. You scream, and start to cry, confused and angry. 

You look at Lucifer with tears in your eyes. 

For a moment he lifts his hand, wanting to touch you, to calm you down, but he knows that you would not want that right now. He drops his hand back in his lap. 

"You can punish me and hate me all you want now. I realize that I have been selfish." Lucifer looks at you, pleading for mercy or punishment. You cannot tell. 

"LEAVE." You yell at him. You can't stand to be in the same room as Lucifer right now

Lucifer nods and leaves the room, he never stops looking at you until he closes the door. 

You can tell that he isn't scared or disgusted by your new form but you are. 

You are still very lost and cry until you are completely drained. 

The next few days you have to stay in the hospital. 

All of the brothers are visiting you. All of them are concerned and you slowly get a bigger picture of everything that went down. 

How you almost lost your life and how Lucifer turned you into a demon. You knew this already but now it really sinks in. Without Lucifer you would be dead now. 

Lucifer was severely punished for his actions, there was a chance of him being executed. 

In the end he lost his position and was expelled from the school. He didn't defend himself at all. The only thing he wanted was to be there when you wake up. He even refused to change his clothes. 

You know that Lucifer would never do anything like this so you are surprised to say the least. 

The brothers agree to help you as much as they can. They are doing their best and later you find out that Lucifer asked them to never leave you alone. 

A few days later you leave the hospital and return to your room. 

Once you have settled into your new life you make your way to Lucifer. 

He greets you at his new home. It's strange to see him again. Lucifer looks miserable. He has lost much of his powers. Just like you have been told. 

"It's great to see you again, come in." Lucifer hasn't changed much in his personality but he seems somber. He looks a bit worn out. 

You follow Lucifer inside and sit with him in the living room. 

"I have thought about what you did and honestly I can't blame you. I have no idea what I have done in this situation. I'm still mad that I can't go back or see my family ever again but without this I would be dead. I just wanted you to know that." You have thought about this long and hard.

Lucifer looks relieved. He is glad that you don't hate him at least. "Thank you for that. I hope you have everything you need and everyone is good to you." Lucifer has the smallest smile on his face. 

You assume his brothers have told him everything already but you appreciate the sentiment. "I'm kinda used to being a demon now. They still treat me like a raw egg sometimes and we all miss you but other than that it's going pretty well." You smile at him. 

Lucifer lets out a small chuckle. "This is just like you getting used to everything so quickly. I'm glad. I hope in a few hundred years I will be able to return and support everyone like always." 

"I think it might go faster than that. Diavolo is talking about the future of the exchange program and if they do it, I already volunteered to help the humans. I doubt they can do it without you." You don't know why they are still pushing this but at least you can help the new human to be in a better position than you were. 

"Already taking this much responsibility. I expect nothing else from you. I can only imagine how much chaos my brothers have caused. I fear that the house is a pile of stones by now." Lucifer sounds almost happy now. The guilt must have eaten him, but now that you are looking okay to him he feels relieved. 

"They are pushing themselves really hard just to not be a burden and not disappoint you. They are all good brothers." You have a kind expression on your face. They are far from perfect but they try, and they love Lucifer. 

"They truly are, but don't tell them that. I hope everyone is good to you as well." Lucifer looks almost normal to you now.

It is a bit nostalgic. "Of course, and if not I can kick their butts now." You smile full of confidence. 

Lucifer laughs a little. "I can picture that. At least I know that they are in good hands with you." He truly trusts you. 

You smile at him, you are glad that you have forgiven him. "We are all waiting for you, so you better come back soon."

Lucifer doesn't deserve such kindness, yet he is happy. 

You two keep talking about everything that happened so far. You really could get used to the life in the devildom as a demon. 

Check my Obey me! Masterlist for more content

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me reader insert #swd obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me!

[atopearth]

Ar Tonelico: Melody of Elemia Part 1 - Aurica & Misha (Phase 1)

PHASE 1

Okay, I am beyond excited. I honestly never thought I'd be able to play my favourite PS2 games ever again after I moved houses, because I can't for the life of me find my old PS2 that could play copied games, all the wires and some of the games, and I can't buy these games anymore either, so I was literally so sad and nearly cried when I first realised this. But then I realised that we could get PS emulators now and play the games!! Honestly so thankful and happy right now because omg it's so beautiful to know I can finally properly finish these games again!! Anyway, I still remember Shurelia and Lyner very well, I loved how cool Shurelia was, whereas I can't remember much about Lyner so he's probably the average protagonist that gets all the girls lmao. I'm not sure if I'll bother playing each Reyvateil "route" but I do know who I picked as a kid so I'm definitely going to pick her again. It's kinda funny, I wonder if this is when my bro and I decided to each choose our favourites and play through them so we could both see the different stories haha. I just remember he liked the shy brown hair Reyvateil and I loved the blue hair childhood friend, I can't remember their names anymore but I still love them hahaha. And if I remember correctly, Shurelia should have a short story/route, but I remember diving into her cosmosphere was weird because she's kinda like the old type of Reyvateil haha, so I was sad about that but it doesn't matter, it's Shurelia, everyone loves her!

On to the story itself! Lyner is pretty childish but he's a typical teenager protagonist so I'll just ignore it lol. On another note, dang, the art and character design and everything still looks good to this day imo. It's sad that Shurelia and Ayatane had to stay behind to fend off viruses that I can't really kill off until Lyner goes and gets the Hymn Crystal Purger, but I guess they can't really allow these viruses to run around into town, so as long as they stay in the Tower where I assume Shurelia has tried to seal them for many years, it should hopefully be fine~ Poor Lyner got his airship broken the moment he left though, but I guess that's how journeys begin haha. Lmao at Aurica (that's the name of the brown hair girl!!) healing Lyner with her Reyvateil magic/song and then running off when he wakes up, she's so cute lol. Kinda sad to see Reyvateil treated so badly by organisations like Tenba, like wow, the abuse is rampant. The village is pretty unreasonable to make Lyner kill their monsters to get his airship back but I guess that's just how desperate they are? Still don't like them. LMAO when Lyner went to learn grathmelding, the grandpa joked around saying Lyner's reward for learning it was his granddaughter hahaha.

Well, I guess it's good to help the village, because now they're willing to take care of the broken airship until Lyner finds someone who can fix it. Anyway, did Jack like Misha or something? I can't remember🤔 Lmao, Jack is so slack to Aurica, like yeah she's gloomy but I can empathise with her😭 Okay, I gotta agree with Jack though, Claire is definitely much hotter than Aurica, just the fact that she runs a bar by herself and tries her best to be strong and independent already makes me like her lol. On the other hand, why is Misha with Tenba, was she being manipulated or controlled or something? Anyway, the moment I saw Misha, I fell in love with her again, like wow, her design is so beautiful and unique, I could never pick someone else over her. I feel so sorry for her that Lyner can't remember her though, because I'm pretty sure she really likes him🥺 I can't remember the story but I guess we'll know when we can dive into her. Lyner is rash, super reckless and honest to a fault, but that honesty is a good thing I guess haha. The fact that he can't take people in Tenba badmouthing Reyvateil like they're tools that can be scrapped when they don't seem to be crafting good magic would make anyone mad, but Lyner refuses to sit by and listen to that, which is pretty admirable of him tbh.

With the way people react to others going into the Dive shop in the middle of the day with a Reyvateil, you'd be thinking they were doing something R rated lol, but they're just getting to know each other so it's kinda weird to have that kind of stigma, I mean I'm pretty sure going at night is weirder?! Anyway, I have to agree with Misha, Firefly Alley is a scary place, just thinking about being near all those propellers and falling down is crazyyy. It's kinda funny, but I remember Spica (Misha's friend that sells good stuff) but I don't remember the chainsaw girl lmao, I feel like she looks familiar but that's all hahah. It's so hilarious but brave of Misha to tell Lyner to dive into her so they can craft magic to break the wall and leave to go to Nemo without Bourd and them on their tail. Considering how bold she is, it's crazy that it's her first time, but since diving is such a personal thing, I honestly doubt Misha would let anyone aside from Lyner dive into her. I gotta agree with Hama (Misha's cosmosphere mind guardian) slapping Lyner for saying he's only in there because Misha told him to dive in, like excuse you Lyner?! You do realise the one that's being invaded and the one that has to feel vulnerable and everything is Misha right?! Have some tact lol! But I guess Lyner is slow, so it was normal of him to not have realised that it was a bigger deal than he thought, especially since Misha seemed so nonchalant about it. Misha's Level 1 Cosmosphere is so nostalgic though, I remember it so well, because I think it was a really nice contrast to see the brave and cool Misha in real life compared to the vulnerable one in the cosmosphere who is scared of revealing her true self to Lyner. It was nice to see him encourage her and to tell her that he wants to know her better, I mean it's sad that he can't remember her but you can't help things you can't remember I guess...

Krusche and Misha arguing all the time is pretty cute lol, I think it was even better when they worked together to open a door and made bets the whole time making them shout each other food if they got things wrong haha. Misha really is such a great girl to be so scared of heights but try her best to save Aurica. As usual though, Lyner is pretty crazy to jump and save Aurica when she was falling, like dang, they're lucky Krusche was nearby to catch them with her airship. Anyway, lmao at Aurica's naming sense and that fireball she made😂 I feel like Lyner is way more encouraging towards Aurica than he was with Misha before though, I guess it helps when it's obvious that she's troubled, whereas Misha being capable made him slow to realise a lot of things? Awww, Aurica cares so much about Lyner. She crafted blue magic in the real world because she wanted to protect him so much🥺 He's honestly really reckless though, he really could have died with the Hymn Crystal Purger, he's lucky Jack saved him. Honestly though, the more I play this, the more I feel like Lyner's type is Aurica and I'm so sadddd😭 I mean, I like Aurica too because she's so cute, but Misha😭😭

Lmao at how much it would cost Krusche to fix Lyner's airship, back to trying to climbing the tower back to Platina instead~ Well, I didn't expect Claire to really sing a song, her voice was beautiful! I'm glad she's out of Tenba and doing what she wants now, I feel sorry for any Reyvateil stuck in Tenba. Honestly, considering how self-sacrificing Misha was before for Aurica, I would have expected Lyner to care a little more of the possibility that Misha might be hurt or dead from one of the Hexagonal plates falling off and landing in Tenba where Bourd and them were having a meeting. I'm starting to think he really doesn't deserve Misha lolll. Anyway, the virus/Reyvateil Mir sounds familiar, was she one the girls in the next game? A Reyvateil utopia sounds about right if she was also once oppressed by people like Tenba. I honestly can't remember much about Ayatane but I do feel like I remember he disliked Lyner for being the one that protected Shurelia when he feels that he's so much more capable which is understandable considering he seems to be obsessed with her too. Well, the President of Tenba looks very...wow haha. Ooh I remember Misha looking super great as her real age, but she's great the way she is. Anyway, considering that Tenba experiments on Reyvateil, I hope Radolf talks about this with the church, but I guess I'm not sure if the church even has the power to destroy them even if they were so inhumane. Well, dang, Demon Aurica looks like a spider devil or something lol. I'm not surprised there's a part of Aurica that hates Claire though, it's understandable because she feels so inadequate compared to her. It's interesting to read the other bits in the cosmosphere that aren't as important, because omg, Aurica actually really liked this Knight guy before and she got rejected so terribly, that's sad.. I love Aurica's images of Radolf and Krusche, they're so silly🤣 Misha as a student body president is cute lol, and Shurelia(?) is there too?? Lol. Anyway, I like the cat on top of a vacuum, it's so cute. Lmao, okay wasting 900DP to find out that Aurica is a cat fanatic is hilarious, the idea of her rolling around with cats when no one is looking is so funny😂

I'm so glad climbing the Tower led to saving Misha, her breaking down and crying was so heartbreaking, she's really suffered😭 On the other hand, lmao at these residents up here cooking chicken, I just stole all their food✌️Lol at the trial though, it's literally just to test your strength! I'm sure Jack and them could do it too. Anyway, I never realised the Tower was called the Tower of Ar Tonelico, and oh wow, it's pretty cool that in between the Lower World and the Upper World is the Frozen Eye that separates the two so they're actually not physically attached. Oh wow, so Misha being the Star Singer meant she was the one singing her Chronicle Key song to keep all the viruses out, but because her song was stolen and she can't sing it anymore, the viruses are now attacking Platina. How sad though? She has to sing for eternity to keep world peace but what about her? Ooh, Jack left the Teru Tribe because they were too fixated on rules even when they were on the brink of destruction huh? I guess it's understandable why he would be annoyed, he's seeing so many people close to him die and he can't even use the technology that could possibly save them because of some covenant with Elemia. On the other hand, nice to know that Krusche wants to go to the Upper World because her ex-boyfriend Luke went there and never came back. Tbh, the Luke part sounds familiar but I don't remember anything else about this story. And I see, Jack is close to Misha because he used to protect her until he left.. She must have been so lonely after that. Anyway, I don't know why it didn't click to me that people are named after musical instruments here, like Flute and Harmonica lol, not sure what Tastiella is lol.

Time to do Misha's cosmosphere before going up! Adult Misha is beautiful~ lmao at the chunk of ice being an ice fairy😂 LOL at Aurica in the Don Leon costume😂😂😂 I'm kinda glad we did Misha's cosmosphere now though, because I would be so confused why her world is like this if I didn't know she has the responsibility to sing for eternity to keep the world peaceful. Especially now that she can wander around to find her song, I'm sure she's even more reluctant to go back to singing all by herself to save people she doesn't even know, and she's been doing this her whole life. I'm dying at the "flower" you can water with the China dress Misha that turns into a freaking tree hahahahah. I'm not sure about an abundance of love being able to grow a little flower into a gigantic tree😂 But I guess it exactly shows how little exposure Misha has of the real world, since even the stuff in her cosmosphere is really a lot of stuff she read in books. Honestly, I got mad at Lyner when he shouted at Misha to like do her job as the song fairy to save this Krusche, Misha was right that he doesn't understand her feelings at all. She's been stuck in one place for so long and has finally been given medicine that could turn her into a human, of course she would hesitate. I don't really blame Lyner though, since he doesn't really know about her life and her past at all. Shinobi Misha is so hot, I love the costume! It's so heartwrenching to hear how understanding Misha is to say she's willing on giving up on this chance (that she doesn't know if she'll ever get again) so that she can save Krusche because she understands that as long as she's alive, there's still a chance for her to find another way to be free, but if Krusche dies, she'll never have a second chance for her life. HAHAHA, I was thinking if those things in Misha's hair were drums, and thanks to Hama's confirmation, yes they are! But just like Hama's bells, they're just decorations, so don't beat those drums she says lmaooo. 

Lolll at Shurelia being Misha's mum telling her to grow up. So, the reason Misha hates growing up is because when she was young, she was still "free" and got to be in Platina playing with Lyner and stuff, but once she grew up, she was forced to sing and sing, so now she hates the idea of being "grown up" and having to live with this responsibility for the rest of her life, since at least if she's a kid, she can rebel and be a bit more selfish... I always find it hilarious how every Shurelia character in the cosmospheres have to ask Lyner out 😂😂 I guess it's because Shurelia is connected to all the Reyvateils? So even if Shurelia herself doesn't realise it, she really does like Lyner enough that it leaks into all her "characters"? It's terrible to think about how strict Lyner's dad was on Misha when she was in Platina if it's still haunting her here. Aww for Aurica's cosmosphere, Don Leon was a gift from Claire to Aurica before she left the village, she told Aurica to treat it as if it was her so that she wouldn't be lonely. It's cute how Don Leon really stayed so important to her that it's even her Mind Guardian now.

I'm glad Misha put Lyner in his place and told him it's too late to say he doesn't want to involve everyone, but I guess it's understandable since they could die or never be able to come back to the Lower World, but even still, Misha is right, they should be the ones to make that decision and not him. Anyway, in terms of the story, I feel like Lyner would choose Aurica to download the Hymn Crystal into to fight the viruses but I'm biased towards Misha so~ The viruses invading Misha's cosmosphere must have been pretty scary tbh like omggg, that's terrifying, especially since she got sealed in a crystal and everything was a wasteland. It was nice that after choosing Misha for this, it seems like Lyner has finally shown concern and worry over Misha lolll. Well, Platina is saved and now there's potential for more interaction between the Upper and Lower Worlds so I guess that will be nice. And that's the end of Phase 1!

Overall, I've been really enjoying my time with Ar Tonelico again. Tbh, now that I'm playing it again, it really does run like a visual novel with RPG elements hahaha. The battle system gets pretty repetitive and boring though, I'm glad it's not hard, but it can get tiring when there's a lot of random battles, I had to escape a few times because I was just so bored of it lmao. Otherwise, I definitely like Aurica much more than when I was a kid lol! She's actually really adorable and kind, lacking confidence at times, but with Lyner, I think she's definitely found a lot more confidence in herself and her abilities, and we should really be thankful to Lyner for that hahah. I love her weird naming sense and how she's so obstinate about silly things. As for Misha, I still really love her too. I like how she's so honest and true to herself, and I think I like her dynamic with Krusche and them more than Aurica is with them, but I really like how vocal Misha is about stuff like telling Lyner what she thinks and stuff like that. Shurelia is as cool as I used to think she was haha. I think I'll go with Aurica's route first though, just because I've never played it😆

#ar tonelico

[youllallriseintheink]

Prison Cell, Chapter 3

Sorry this took so long- it got so long that I had to split it into two parts. Anyhow, from this point forwards, you can expect a lot of violence, so be warned. This chapter will have a lot of interpersonal stuff, and the final chapter will be pretty much entirely action.

---

Sammy unlocked the door. On the other side of it was a demon. The demon. The one that had stolen her blood.

Its body was humanoid and wearing a suit and white bow tie, but its hands were made of ink. The top of its head was covered in black ink, which spiraled up into horns and spilled down its face, leaving only its mustache, mouth and chin visible. Seeing it in the light for the first time, Susie recognized it as the bottom of Joey’s face.

“Joey?” Susie asked, her voice full of wonder and fear.

“Once,” the demon said, and its voice was not Joey Drew’s. It deep, and rough, and horrible. “But I have taken over. Don’t worry- I don’t want this any more than he does. Once I find a way to separate humans from ink, I’ll go back to my dimension and free all of you to yours.” The demon turned and beckoned Susie to follow him. “Come.”

The demon led Susie through the basement, seemingly one large room full of very strange things. Pentagrams littered the floor. Scattered iron cages contained a few emaciated, ink-covered people. Shelves full of sharp tools and unknowable ingredients lined the walls.

“I can still hear him, you know,” the demon mused, taking a syringe and a number of bottles from a shelf, “Joey. His mind. I can see into him. Learn how to manipulate humans. I asked him how to crush your insurrection, and he said that I’d need to destroy your little story.”

The demon led Susie to a door and opened it, and when he did, she lost all her breath.

It was Norman, chained to the far wall. He was wearing the same clothes he had been when he was taken away several weeks ago, but now they were hanging off of him at sharp angles. Susie ran to him, and he cringed away from her. He didn’t want her to see him like this, or to feel how thin and bony he’d gotten.

“What did you do him!?” Susie demanded.

“Nothing beyond the obvious. You see, you thought that some of you could overcome us with physical power. That was your story- that your hope and your resilience would lead to freedom. I needed to show you that rebellion only forces me to take your strength. This isn’t something I wanted to do. Strong, healthy people do better work, and unfortunately Joey’s desire to manage the studio is in me. But... you forced my hand.”

The demon then pulled Susie Campbell up by the collar, pushed her against the wall, and put the syringe to her throat.

“He can’t protect you now,” the demon explained, perfectly calm. “His ability to do so was always under my control, and you made me take it away.”

All Norman could do was bury his head in his hands and listen to her whimper. The chains were too short for him to reach her, and he didn’t stand a chance against the demon anyhow. Not like this. The demon released her blood into one of the bottles, then reinserted the needle, working at an unhurried pace. He repeated the motion several times before letting her go. She fell onto her hands and knees, faint from blood loss.

---

Utterly haunted, Sammy escorted the two sickly individuals back to the music room, carrying with him the two first-aid kits and a message that Joey had written. The second he entered the recording studio, The instruments went silent. A bassist got up from his instrument and tackled Sammy to the ground.

“Okay, someone get these two to the infirmary and look after them,” the bassist ordered, “And Johnny, get the rope. We have a loyalist to hang!”

“Wait!” Sammy cried, “I carry a message from your lord!”

“Can it! You let this happen to them. Why would we listen to your stupid ‘message?’”

Meanwhile, Jack Fain picked up the message from the ground and read it. “Guys! It says if three days go by without incident, they’ll release our prisoners! Let’s not do this. Please.”

The man who’d tackled Sammy got up, snatched the message out of Jack’s hands, and skimmed over it. “Huh. You’re right. Fine. Take him to the elevator and I’ll take this to Abby. Hopefully she’ll actually use it.”

---

Abby read over the letter.

To the upper levels,

A lot of violence has occurred between the upper and lower levels recently, so let me make myself clear: I do not want war, and no matter what level you come from, you should not want loyalists to die. Without our work, you would starve. I’m sorry to have done what I did, but I think you all needed a reminder of what’s coming for you if you keep interfering with our work. I do not wish to have to do this again.

Simply put, be peaceful, do what’s needed of you, and everything will be fine. As a final peace offering, I will release your prisoners three days from now if the rebellion stops entirely.

-Joey Drew

Abby knew the letter was full of lies. That thing wasn’t Joey, and it wasn’t forced to keep them here. She knew that the others knew that, too, and she knew that now that the upper levels had tasted hope, complete compliance would be even more impossible than before. This so-called war was going to happen sooner or later, so she needed to make sure they started at an advantage. She called on Henry to help her make a plan, and called everyone into the recording studio that night to announce it. Thankfully, it seemed to satisfy even the most rebellious of souls.

---

The door to Susie’s room opened, and Abby stepped in. Susie's eyes opened weakly.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry you had to miss the meeting tonight. Big things are happening, and I thought I’d let you know about them.”

“Okay,” Susie said.

“So... Joey, or, his demon, rather, has threatened to come down hard on us if there are any more signs of rebellion- and we both know that there will be. He also promised to release our prisoners if there are three days of good behaviour. So, I’ve decided that we’re breaking out the same night that our prisoners are released. The plan is for someone stealthy to go down there in the dead of night, steal the keys, and come back. After that, we’ll leave in groups of seven in order to sneak out of the portal. We’ll do it as quietly as possible, but we’ll also be packing axes and spears made from the knives you brought up. Hopefully there won’t be too many causalities.”

“Why seven?”

“We’re expecting to have ten injured people, and we’re not leaving anyone behind. There are going to be 68 of us in total, assuming that none of the prisoners died, you know, I thought that one per group would have the least chance of really compromising a group’s chances of escape. Plus, smaller groups will be quicker and quieter.”

Susie nodded.

“Oh, and I’m sure you’ll be better by then. And Norman is fine, too, by the way. Well, physically. We looked him over and he doesn’t have any issues aside from the obvious. He won’t talk to any of us. I don’t know what that’s about. Maybe some kind of spell.”

Susie should have felt something in regards to that, but she was honestly too exhausted from the blood loss.

“Alright. I’ll let you rest now- but tomorrow, I’m going to have to ask you about everything you saw down there- especially anything that might help me plan. Goodnight, Susie.” With that, Abby left.

---

The rebellion required planning, and management. Every axe was pulled off the walls and moved into Sammy’s sanctuary, along with the knives- just in case a loyalist decided to take them away one night. Two people guarded the elevator on each floor and at all times, and not to keep loyalists out. Loyalists were allowed right through, but any especially rebellious souls had to be kept from ruining their plan. Henry and Abby were busy planning the groups and drawing up an easy-to-follow map to the portal room. Every department head struggled to keep the remaining workers to their jobs. It seemed pointless for them to work jobs they’d quickly be fleeing from, but it was essential in order to keep suspicions to a minimum.

---

It was the night before the march. Most were turning in early, knowing that tomorrow, they would have to be on their guard well into the night. Susie had tried to do the same, but she couldn’t sleep. There was too much on her head. Too many factors that had to align if she was ever going to make it out. The horrifying possibility of facing the ink demon again if they failed. And her mind, despite there being there bigger fish to fry, kept going back to Norman, if they could ever have what they had once had again, and if Norman even wanted that anymore.

“Has Norman talked to you, yet?” Susie asked Grant once he entered their room. Since Norman hadn’t rejoined them, there was no real reason for them to still be roommates, but they’d stayed roommates anyhow, just out of habit.

“No. As far as I know, he hasn’t talked to anyone.”

“I saw him speak today. Wally wanted to help him carry something, and Norman snarled at him to back off. So, it’s not a spell- just mental stuff from being imprisoned. I wanna help him, but he won’t talk to me. Can you try?”

“Sure,” Grant said. “I can’t guarantee it’ll work, but I’ll try.”

“Okay,” Susie said, biting back tears. “I just wanna know that he’s in a place where he’ll be able to handle things tomorrow. And... I know that this is the last thing that should be on my mind, but... can you ask why he’s avoiding me?”

“Oh, Susie. I...” Grant tried to find the words to comfort her. “I’ll talk to him.” Honestly, it didn’t seem like Norman was the only one who had to pull themselves together for tomorrow night.

Norman wasn’t used to being pitied. Even as a kid, after all he’d been through, his adoptive family had known that he was a problem child who needed to be set straight before he got even bigger and his aggression became more dangerous. He’d never wanted pity, either, and now that he had it, he couldn’t say that his opinion on it had improved any. He never thought he’d miss his coworkers looking at him like he was a frightening beast. Though he did cut the long, greasy hair he’d grown while imprisoned as soon as he had the chance, he’d been half-tempted to just wash it and keep it, just to somewhat retain that beastly image.

Mostly, he wanted a way to cope. He wanted to talk with his sister, or go for a walk in the woods, or somehow get out of the sight of these people without isolating himself in one room. That had been what he was doing in his off hours- both because there was little else he wanted to do and because he didn’t have the stamina he used to. It wasn’t Susie’s room. Honestly, he’d been too scared to even look at her.

Norman knew of the plan. Honestly, it had happened so quickly after he was released from his imprisonment that it was a little hard to take in. Yes, late tomorrow night, he and everyone else would end up escaping or die trying, and Norman would either reunite with his sister and put his life together from there, or it would be the end of him. It was happening, but it didn’t seem real.

There was a knock at his door. Norman pulled himself up and answered it. It was Grant. Well, out of everyone in the studio it could have been, Grant was the most tolerable.

“Hey, Norman. You... wanna play some cards?” There was a little pity in Grant’s voice. Thankfully not too much.

Norman ushered Grant into the room. They sat down on the floor, and Grant started shuffling the cards.

“So, you ready for tomorrow?”

“I guess. Kind of hard to believe it’s happening.”

Grant’s face lit up. “You’re talking!”

Norman shrugged. “It’s easy when it’s you."

“Uh, thanks. Do you want talk about... you know, what’s happened?”

“No,” Norman said, and the two played cards in silence for a while before Norman spoke up again. “Is Susie okay?”

“She’s fine. She’ll be strong enough to make it out, assuming the plan goes well.”

Norman’s face was unreadable. “Good." A long pause. “Y’know, she’s childish, and shallow, and stupid. But she was impressed with me because I was strong and I could protect her. And so, you know, she was pretty, and we did... things together. I thought that could be all it was, but she was sweet and kind to me and I went and caught feelings for her. Of course, shallow attraction based on one thing won’t last now that I look like starving stray dog, but whatever. So long as she’s okay. She’s a good girl. So long as she’s okay.”

Grant just stared at him. “Have you... looked her in the eye recently?”

“What?”

“Uh, sorry. It’s just that you’re usually so good at figuring this kind of thing out that it borders on the supernatural, and right now, you’re really, really wrong. This entire, organized rebellion started with her trying to put together a rescue team for you. She wanted to be the first one down in loyalist territory, for you. She’s actually the one who sent me, because she’s worried about how you’ll do tomorrow.”

With the last line, Norman’s face went from appreciation and disbelief to twisted anger. “For God’s sake! Joey didn’t cut my fucking legs off!”

“Well, she can’t know how well you’re doing if you avoid her. Look, if you aren’t up for it, I can go back and try to comfort her, tell her you’re fine.”

“No. No. I’ll do it. And I’m sorry that I’m not my most pleasant right now.”

Grant smiled. Nothing ever changed- the best way to get Norman to do anything was to offer to do it for him. Susie slept in Norman’s arms that night, knowing it could be their last chance to be together.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #joey drew #(sort of) #susie campbell #norman polk #abby lambert #my fanfiction #Story: prison cell

[winterscaptain]

directors commentary on absence plzzz

what an excellent choice!! 

commentary in bold italics

So the BH arc was chopped to shit while I was working on it, because I couldn’t decide what Mom got REALLY mad about. Because Derek really had the corner on being mad at Aaron over Emily and I wanted to push it into the personal a little more. 

Plus, I sometimes think the “let’s get mad at Aaron and JJ for Emily” is a touch overplayed and definitely would have been that way in this story. 

You let yourself into his apartment, slamming the door behind you. He’s been waiting for you, leaning against the windowsill across from the door. 

“How dare you.”

He sighs and presses a hand to his forehead. “You have to understand that I -”

“Bullshit, Aaron. I don’t have to understand a goddamn thing. What are you thinking? We need you.” 

His head tips up, and he looks through you. The haunted look in his eyes almost makes you falter - it so acutely reminds you of the days following Haley’s death - but you keep your resolve. You know what that is? Growth! Mom is REFUSING to cave to his inner demons bullshit. He doesn’t say anything, just lets you yell at him until it’s out of your system. You could never actually hate him and he knows that, which makes some of it easier, but not all of it. 

This was also the fight that was originally written for Mean It, but I spliced different beats in based on what the story called for. This one fit much better here, and increases the stakes because he’s about to leave. 

The tears start and pick up speed as you continue, nearly at a shout. “You’ve known for seven months that you were going to leave for Pakistan. I read the brief. Seven. Fucking. Months, Aaron. You didn’t tell us when the task force assignment came through. Emily died, and you’re still leaving?” He flinches. And they’re so worked up they don’t even notice the magnitude or depth of the flinch like they usually would. “You’re leaving me and Jack. You’re leaving our team. I never thought you could do something like that to us. Maybe them, but not me. Never to me. I mean, after everything we’ve -” You cut yourself off and raise the back of your hand to your mouth, unable to finish the unbearably painful thought.

I had a ridiculous amount of fun writing this fight. I LOVE writing fights. 

And “wet anger” as @ssaic-jareau​ put it, is so much more interesting and damning than dry anger for situations like this, especially in opposition to Aaron.  

He’s not sure which part is the most painful - the fact that you list yourself with Jack instead of with the team, the fact that you say ‘our team,’ or the tone that drips with hurt. The sob that rips through your chest breaks his heart. Remember in enough when he was thinking about the horror of causing them pain? Yeah me too. He leans heavily against the arm of his couch, knocked down by the weight of your tears. 

No - the hardest part is knowing he deserves it, that you aren’t saying anything that isn’t unfair or untrue. 

Mom’s anger and hurt feeds right into his insecurities. This is quite literally his worst fear come to life, and as confident as he is in the strength of their relationship, he is terrified that he wont come back from this one. 

“I can’t even look at you right now.” 

He can only watch you as you walk back out, leaving the door open behind you. 

There’s something so satisfying about leaving the door open after a fight. Like the drama of a slammed door is one thing, but I’ve always preferred creating a situation in which the other person has to get up and close the door behind you. 

From experience, it’s incredibly satisfying. 

About twenty minutes later, he receives a text.

9:34pm I’ll be there tomorrow at 12:30 to take you to base. Be ready when I get there. 

He crawls into bed about a half an hour later, and receives another text.

10:05pm Goodnight. 

The period at the end of that text is like the death knell for Aaron. 

Fuck. 

OOOOOOOH Aaron you done fucked up, kiddo. Good thing you’re self aware and have literal MONTHS without Mom to figure it out :)

(God he’s an idiot)

+++

The ride to base ride is mostly silent, and you know something’s wrong. It’s nothing you can articulate or even really put your finger on, but it’s something bigger than just his imminent absence.

As much as they know about each other, their emotional tuning forks can’t get past what they won’t share with the other. In this instance, Mom has not the first clue about what he’s hiding from her. How could she know?

He’s boarding a C-130 supply transport to Pakistan, and it will no doubt be a long and deeply uncomfortable flight. His go bag, packed with desert fatigues and a couple of creature comforts, looks smaller than usual at his feet. 

“How long?”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Taskforce operations are need-to-know.” There’s so much he can’t tell you, and it eats at him. Because it’s you, and he’s been an ass, he concedes a little. And also he can only keep so many secrets from them. “Probably a couple of months.”

“We’ll be okay, Aaron.” A little laugh leaves him, and it pulls a smile from you. “What?”

“Remember when you chased me down last night to tell me the team couldn’t do this without me?” 

This is a dialogue motif for sure - it shows up all over the place in this series. 

Remember all those other times you chased him down to yell at him about something? Yeah, those too. 

You roll your eyes. “It’s still true, but we’ll manage. We always do.” There’s a moment of silence, and you continue. “And you’re going where you’re needed - that helps.” 

It’s true. Your anger had cooled (just a little) overnight, and you decided you didn’t want him to leave while you were still upset with each other. 

You already miss him. 

Yes, that’s a motif and the reference in fear itself, with Haley. 

“Don’t think I’m not still mad at you.”

He looks out the window, and you can hear the wheels turning in his head. Jack is on his mind, and so are you. There’s nothing more nauseating than the thought of leaving you while you’re still hurting from Emily’s loss. “I know.” 

Why are you going through with this, Hotchner?

Oh, right. You’re a coward. 

“I just don’t want our last conversation before you leave to be a fight.” You sniff, but don’t look at him as you continue driving down the highway. 

I think this is their version of not “going to bed angry” as the saying goes. There was this fear I tried to convey that if they fought before he left and something happened to him, your last words to each other would be angry ones.

I am perhaps the most undeserving man on the planet. 

You’re also an idiot, Aaron. 

He says, “Thank you. I don’t want that either,” but he hopes you can hear what else he can’t say. 

He has the same fear - of something happening to them (because he’s never worried about himself) while he’s gone, coming home to another funeral. 

I love you. I’m sorry. 

+++

“Alright, you’ve got everything you need?” You stand next to him on the tarmac, shading your eyes from the sun. 

Aaron hikes his bag higher on his shoulder. “Think so. You gonna be alright?”

This was the first scene I saw. I so clearly envisioned the blinding sunlight in the middle of the afternoon during a Virginia spring with the two of them standing out there in a kind of isolated no-mans-land out on the tarmac. 

You nod and reach for him. He embraces you, tucking his head into your shoulder. “You be safe, Aaron Hotchner. If you die out there I’ll kill you myself.” 

He chuckles, and you hope the sound is enough to keep your heart from breaking too much over the next couple of months. Your eyes close as he presses a kiss to your cheek. This image made my heart hurt. “I’ll check in when I can.”

Shoving against his chest, you turn him around and push him toward the plane. “Get outta here.” And that, kids, is what we call emotional redirection and a repressive coping strategy!

He takes one last look over his shoulder when he reaches the ramp and offers you a wave. You return it. 

+++

You manage to get to the highway before the tears start. The only person you want to talk to is Emily. She’d know exactly what to say, and she’d make sure your days off were full of fun and good company. You pull off on the side of the road, your head falling into your hands, sobs wracking through you.

When you’re able to keep driving, your chest hurts beyond belief. 

Without her, these months seem to stretch before you forever. 

+++

“Ready or not, here I come!” You call across the apartment, sneaking through the familiar rooms with practiced ease. 

This was another one of those very clear scenes that just popped into my head. 

Aaron’s been away for close to a month, and you’ve settled into a routine. Cases, of course, keep you busy. Derek’s rather good at playing Unit Chief - decisive and collaborative - but you miss Aaron’s steady, even hand. 

Really, you miss everything about him. You try not to think about him too much. 

You fail, often. 

Avoiding thoughts of Aaron gets even harder as you creep into the master bedroom. The smell of him hasn’t left. Smell is such a strong link to memory and I just had to include that as something in this chapter of their lives. Like it’s so weird going into someone’s room, no matter how many times you’ve been there, and there’s no evidence that they’ve been there since the last time you saw them. Past the doorway, the air is spicy, masculine, and warm. You squint at the bed. One of the pillows moves, just a little, and you pounce, pulling the covers back and grabbing the wiggling pillow. 

Jack screeches and throws himself at you. You catch him and fall back on the bed, laughing. “I found you!”

Jess is off running errands for the afternoon, taking some well-earned time off. You’ll more than likely spend the night over here tonight to give her more of her weekend. It’s never any trouble to stay with Jack. You adore each other. 

I am so soft for Mom and Jack y’all.

Usually, Jack leaps right to his feet for another round, but he stays put after his fit of mirth passes, sprawling across your chest. 

“What are you thinking about over there?”

He sighs, and brings his little hands under his chin, propping his head up so he can look at you. He’s six, now - still very much a boy - but the pensive look on his face starkly reminds you of his father. Oh, don’t worry. He’ll keep doing that well into adulthood but the resemblance will only get scarier. “When’s dad going to be home?”

You push some hair off his forehead. “I’m not sure, my love. I’m hoping it’s only a couple more weeks, but it could be a little longer than that.” 

He sighs, and it breaks your heart a little. You turn on your side, and he curls into you, resting his head on your arm and tucking under your chin. Don’t worry. He’ll keep doing that, too. “Are you and my dad best friends?”

You laugh a little. “Yeah, I think so. Your dad and I have known each other for a long time.” His little hands play with the collar of your shirt. There’s more to his question. Jack’s just like his dad and takes a bit of ferreting out. Luckily, you’ve had plenty of practice. “What are you curious about, little bug?”

“Do you miss Dad?”

I always want to show that Jack feels safe with them, and can ask them harder questions without fear of judgment. 

A track of Aaron’s laugh, his smile, the way his arms feel around you flies through your head. “Yeah, I miss him a lot.” 

“I’m happy you’re here so we can miss him together.” You can almost hear Aaron’s voice in Jack’s. It sounds just like something he would say, and probably has said, talking to his son about Haley.

I love the things that kids kind of implicitly understand.

“Me too, buddy.” You kiss the top of his head. “Me too.” 

Jess returns about an hour later, groceries in-hand, to find you and Jack curled together in Aaron’s bed, snoozing the afternoon away. She snaps a picture with her phone, saving it in an album she keeps for Aaron. After she puts the groceries away, she escapes, leaving a note. 

I LOVE THESE little tableaus. And y'all know how much I like pictures. 

Did you notice that this picture comes up in mistletoe??

You’re on your own tonight and tomorrow. Have a good time with breakfast - he’s been picky lately. 

XO, Jess

+++

Back to back cases - five of them, to be exact, pull you through the next two months by the ear. Formal leadership wears on Derek more and more by the day, and you find yourself making just as many decisions as he does. That’s a fun parallel to season five!! You’re immensely proud of him, but the whole thing is exhausting. Most days feel held together by duct tape, with you and Rossi acting as the adhesive. 

Thus, your evening with Jess is both well-earned and much needed. 

“Wanna crash here tonight?” She sets a mug of tea down on the coffee table in front of you and sits heavily back on the couch. “It’s pretty late.”

You check your watch and find it is indeed late. Before you can answer, your phone rings, and you answer it with an apologetic glance toward Jess. “Hey, Morgan. What’s up?”

“We have sat call notification from Hotch. Can you come in?” He sounds exhausted. 

In real life, you don’t just get to carry sat phones around willy nilly. Satellite time is EXPENSIVE and the US Govt is FRUGAL in the extreme (when it comes to minor DoJ teams and stuff - don’t get me started on being a global police force because that’s a RABBIT HOLE)

“Yeah, I can be there in twenty. Is everything okay?”

He sighs. “Yeah, looks like a routine check-in.” 

Jess sighs, knowing the drill. She goes to the kitchen and pours your tea into a travel mug. 

Have I mentioned yet today that I LOVE Jess Brooks??

“Are you calling anyone else in?”

“Nope. Just you. See you when you get here.” He hangs up. 

You stare at your phone as Jess sits next to you again. “We have a call from Aaron coming in, and I have to head to the office.” She hands you your travel mug, and you take it gratefully. 

“You’re welcome back here - I can set up Aaron’s room for you. We’re a lot closer to the office than your place, and I don’t want you to drive if you’re too tired.” She sets a hand on your knee, and you reach over to embrace her. 

“Thanks, Jess.”

+++

When you arrive, Derek’s already on the phone. “… So, no leads?… Right.” He looks up and catches your eye. “Here, Hotch.”

You take the phone. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He sounds relieved. “Are you doing okay? How’s Jack?”

I love this moment, and I could so clearly picture some of the tension leaving his shoulders on the other end of the phone. 

His questions make you smile. “We’re good. He’s good. I just left the apartment - Jess and I were having some grown-up movie time.”

You’re warmed by his laugh. “Good. Glad to hear it. I was just telling Derek that the leads out here have gone cold, but we’re still working.”

“Ah. Any chance you’ll be home soon?” You avoid Derek’s searching gaze. 

Derek always knows something, doesn’t he?

“It doesn’t look that way, no. We’re picking up on some chatter out there, but nothing firm. We’ll have to keep out for a couple more weeks at least.”

Your heart drops, but you hide it as best you can. “Alright. Anything you need from us back here?”

“Just keep doing good work.” You know he can’t say much more than that, with more than a couple of NSA guys in between you on the line, not to mention the archival recording of the call. Both of those things actually happen, too. You can’t just say shit about shit over a sat phone. Even then, you know he means looking for Doyle. “That’s all I need from you.” 

“We can do that.” You give him a quick rundown of some recent cases, all surface-level. You’re mostly stalling, using up incredibly expensive satellite time just to hear his voice. 

You hear him sigh. “Alright, I gotta get back. Tell Jack and Jess I love them.” 

There’s also something unspoken here!! But we all knew that. 

“Of course.” You hand the phone back to Derek and wait while they finish up. Your eyes wander over the volumes of law books in Aaron’s bookshelf, the pictures of Jack and Haley and Jess behind his desk. Wandering over to his chair, you sit down and rest your head on your arms. 

Your eyes wander to a photo taken a year and a half ago at Haley’s service. You’re not sure who took it, but you’re crouched on the ground talking to Jack, while Aaron stands behind him with a hand on his head. Jack’s little hands are in yours, and he’s smiling a little. 

I am just a sucker for pictures. I know I’ve said this before, but they are such a wonderful vehicle for implicit characterization. I think, in some ways, he keeps this picture because in a kind of abstract, mournful way, it’s a photo of all four of them.

Of all the photos to keep on his desk…

Derek hangs up the sat phone and puts it back in the lockbox. He crosses the office and leans against the desk beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

PHYSICAL CONTACT

+++

When you get back to the apartment (indeed much closer than your home), Jess is asleep in the guest room, and Jack’s still out like a light. 

Aaron’s bed feels far too big and far too cold without him. 

+++

The next time a sat call comes in, you can’t go into the office. Jack has the flu and is absolutely miserable. You can’t, in good conscience, leave Jess to her own devices. Between the vomit and the sleeplessness and the tears, four sets of hands are absolutely necessary. 

I think this is really one of those moments where they step into the parent role for Jack. I didn’t feel the need to explicitly note it in here, but that’s the way I approached this scene. 

“Derek, I can’t leave. Jack is literally puking his guts out as we speak, and I don’t have any new intel for Hotch.” 

Morgan huffs into the phone. “Come on. You know you’re the only one he actually wants to talk to and the only one who has any actual updates about Jack.” 

“You just have to tell him that I’m with Jack tonight because he’s got the flu. Isn’t that enough of an update?” You don’t really mean to snap at him, but the lack of sleep has made you a little punchy. 

“Fine. If he -”

“Yeah, I know. If he gets upset, just blame me. He can deal with me when he’s not in Pakistan. As long as there are twelve time zones between us, I’ll take my chances.”

“Fair enough.” 

Even though he’s Acting Unit Chief, they’re still best friends and you can tell lmao.

He hangs up, and you return to the hall bathroom, where Jack’s cheek is pressed against the toilet seat, his forehead damp and face pale. Jess is taking her turn to sleep - you’ll switch off in an hour. 

“Hey, bubba.”

He mumbles something that sounds like, “Hi.”

“Can I get you some crackers?” 

Jack shakes his head and lifts himself up, holding his arms out. The risk of illness far from your mind, you gather him up and lean against the cabinets, rubbing his back.

“Can you try to close your eyes for me?”

“I don’t feel good.” There are a few tears in his voice, and it breaks your heart a little. You’ve so been there. 

“I know, baby. I know. Just close your eyes for a minute, okay?”

He does, and his breathing evens out eventually. He’s still feverish, but you’re happy he’s sweating, at least. It could break by morning at this rate. 

The makeshift towel-bed on the bathroom floor looks more than inviting. You gingerly shuffle over and lay down, keeping Jack flat against your chest. 

This was such a hallmark of my childhood - the sleeping on towels if you had a stomach bug. I remember being so exhausted that the towels were suddenly the best thing in the whole wide world. Like....mattress who??

It’s the best sleep you’ve had in weeks. 

+++

The hardest days are the ones where you end up by yourself. Derek’s picked up kickboxing with Penelope, JJ has her family, and Rossi retreats to the cabin by the lake with an alarming degree of regularity. 

Thank God he’s not as cranky as Gideon. 

That would be too spooky. 

Any excuse to get a lil jab at Gideon in, it’s one I’m going to capitalize on.

Everyone is out of the office, scattered to their respective distractions. You sit on the floor of Aaron’s office, leaning against his desk. Your laptop sits open in front of you, playing a movie you’re only half paying attention to. 

I like this image of them just...going to the office to hang out, even on a day off. I used to do that in the theatre when I was in college. I had no reason whatsoever for being there, but it wasn’t my house so it was a nice change. 

It was only this afternoon you realized his office smelled more like Morgan’s Tiger Balm than Aaron, and it broke your heart a little. Your only solace was his apartment - the evidence of his existence was inescapable there. With Emily gone for good, you often needed the reminder. 

His office phone rings. You pause the movie, stand, and answer it. 

“Agent Hotchner’s office.” 

NSA is on the other side, dry and professional. “We have an incoming call from Agent Hotchner. Is Agent Morgan available?” 

You tell him he’s not, but that you’re the next in line to receive task force updates. In an equally dry and professional tone, you relay your credentials and your unique intel code. 

“Thank you. Please stand by.” Click. 

You roll your eyes. 

God, they’re boring. 

Sitting down at Aaron’s desk, you wait for the armed guard to arrive with the phone. As per protocol, you’ll sign for the call and remove it from the lockbox yourself. You’ll return it for pickup when the call is completed. 

The guard shows up and you step through the motions, finally getting the phone to your ear. 

“Hey.” 

“Oh, it’s you.” He sounds surprised, but not displeased. 

You laugh a little. “Yeah, it’s me. Morgan’s unavailable at the moment.” 

“I see. Is Jack feeling any better?”

Another thing I wanted to lean into in this part was the anguish Aaron must feel being so far away from Jack for so long. 

“Yeah. He’s been alright for about a week now. It was a pretty nasty bug, but he’s a trooper. Any new chatter down your way?” You trace the wood grain of his desk with your finger, only a little absent-minded. 

“There’s a little bit of activity on the border. We’re monitoring the situation. Is everything going okay over there?”

“Yeah, for the most part. We’ve been feeling the heat a little since Seaver transferred to Andy’s unit, but we’re managing alright. Dave’s called JJ back in to lend a hand, and she’s doing really well.” 

That was such a tiny detail in the show, but i realized how rough it must have been to be down like three people by the end of it. 

He hums. “That was a smart idea.” 

“I’ll tell him you said so.” 

“Oh, please don’t. It’ll go straight to his head.” 

You smile. “Fair point. Any updates on the timetable?”

When are you coming home? Please make it soon. 

“Not at the moment. I think we’re getting closer. Few more weeks.” There’s something behind his voice you can’t quite grasp, but you let it go. Again, not a singular clue means that the emotional tuning fork is broken. 

“Alright. Keep us posted.” 

“Will do. You know the drill.” 

“I sure do. I’ll relay the information to the team, tell your son you love him, and talk to you in a couple of weeks.” 

You can almost hear his smile. “Exactly. Talk soon.”

“Be safe, Aaron.” 

+++

You’re all gathered at the roundtable when Aaron walks in, looking all the worse for wear and - 

Is that a beard?

Did I make myself myself laugh with that first observation? Yes. Was it my first thought even before I could process the delight that we wouldn’t have any episodes without him the first time I saw 7x01? Yes. 

Wait. He’s back. 

You just spoke to him on Monday, with news of a “few more weeks.”

Fucking bastard knew he was coming home, didn’t he?

All of your joy in seeing him evaporates, and you narrow your eyes at him. This was that moment where I had that AHA! thing. I realized that THIS was the thing they were going to get upset about. And it’s not just the anger from right now, the anger from before comes rushing back too. Basically - he’s safe, so they can get really mad and the fear goes away. Just like the last time you were in this room together, there’s an apology in his gaze. 

“Welcome back.” Derek doesn’t sound surprised, and your head whips toward him. He doesn’t look at you. 

Unbelievable. 

“Thanks. Everyone, have a seat.” You follow Aaron’s instructions, and sit, crossing your arms. It’s childish, sure, but the balance of personal and professional life has flown out the window. Okay serious question. Was it ever in the room with y’all? 

The next part here comes straight out of the show but it was SO fun to reframe.

Collecting the dialogue and who says what is often the most tedious part of the process for the episode-linked fics, but once that’s done I have a lot of fun putting it together and linking things into the rest of the universe - pointing things out and the like. 

I always feel like y’all know so much about how I watch the show and my perspective on it with the episode fics. It’s kind of an interesting picture to me, like y’all are looking at it the way I see it. I dunno. That was a random thought. 

This feels like a personal slight, rather than a professional one. You try to push it away, but it lingers in your sternum like a lit flare. It’s uncomfortable, and you hate it. 

I’ve always found it’s really unpleasant to be mad at someone you really love. I always hate it because I don’t usually want to be mad. I wanted to lean into that feeling here. 

“Why?” Derek sounds a little concerned, and you can’t blame him. “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team.” You notice, brow furrowed, that JJ stands beside Hotch like an ally. They both have odd looks on their faces. “As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle.”

No. 

Reader doesn’t know what they don’t know, but they know something in their gut. I don’t think it would be too off-base to attribute it to their connection to Aaron. 

“The doctors were able to stabilize her. She was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.” 

No. 

“Her identity was strictly need-to-know. She stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris, where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.” 

No. 

There’s silence, and you can’t tear your eyes from Aaron.  

“She’s alive?”

“We buried her.” 

Penelope and Spencer’s comments rush past you and you feel much like you did in the waiting room on that horrible, horrible night seven months ago. 

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me.” 

His eyes finally meet yours, and you find your vision blurred. You blink away your tears. 

It was a necessary lie. 

You go into this business expecting to be lied to. 

Not by Aaron. 

That’s not the issue and you know it. He left. 

He left us. 

THIS is exactly the conflict and why Reader can’t fully trust him. It’s very normal to have these kinds of covert operations in agencies, though they seem jarring in the context of a team that’s so close. 

It’s a weird reminder that this is still the FBI, and even though they’re family, they are colleagues and agents first. That’s an uncomfortable realization and part of me thinks that’s why Derek got so mad. 

He was so ready for the BAU to be different, to be his family. We know that Derek has HUGE issues with trust, so evidence that his family isn’t as “safe” as he thought would be have been so difficult to process. 

“Any issues?” Derek’s disbelief is marred by hurt, but you can’t reassure him through your own shock. “Yeah, I got issues.”

He’s cut off by Penelope’s glance toward the doorway. 

The team, save for JJ and Hotch, rush toward her. You’re stuck to your seat until she approaches you. At her touch, you come back to life, throwing yourself into her arms. “Emily.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Her grip on you is tight, but your arms, looped around her shoulders, don’t feel like they’re attached to your body. 

Y’all ever felt that buzzing feeling when there’s so much happening and everything feels like radio static? Yeah. 

She lets you go and continues to speak. Derek’s frozen, and you can’t imagine for a minute what’s going on in his head. Emily wraps around him. He’s stock still, his eyes misty. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he brings his hand to her shoulder, his cheek falling onto the side of her head. 

It’s back to business faster than you can blink, and now you’re sure you’re not the only one ready to kill Aaron where he stands. Derek is livid. 

They stare at each other while Spencer starts asking questions. Eventually, they focus back. Aaron crosses to you, contributing where necessary. He just wants to be close because he missed them :’) Nice try, buddy. You’re in deep shit. You don’t acknowledge him. It’s horrible. You hate being so angry with him, but there’s nothing to be done. 

You can’t be upset at him about Emily. There’s too much to understand, and yet the initial shock of it is like a never-ending bucket of cold water poured over your body. 

Selfishly, you realize you’re upset with him because he didn’t tell you he was coming home. It’s so small when there are other, much bigger, issues to address. 

I also loved the opportunity to lean into such a small issue??? It was a challenge to make it big enough to be a believable blowout in mean it, but it got easier once I realized that their anger wasn’t really about Pakistan. It’s more of an activating excuse that brings all of their feelings up to the surface and it’s overwhelming!

Emily’s lie is professional. Just part of the job. This one feels personal.

You’re a child. Let it go. 

He knew and he left. 

He knew and he left. 

He knew and he left. 

He didn’t tell you he was coming home.

Whew. That was fun. Stay tuned!

#anon reply #tali answers stuff #a joyful future #tali talks cm #tali provides commentary

[sunmaylight]

TGCF Book 2 Reaction pt. 4

Okay. Let’s finish this for book 2, then I can post stuff about book 3 after this

I have decided to split instead of my OG plan because like I said last post, my reading app decided to cram Ch 82-88 into one reading count, so I got a counter that said that Ch 82 has like 100 some pages and I firmly decided that I will read that later.

I said and did what I promised and became a wreak after the end of book 2 cause of all of the drama and development that happened. Book two is literally about Xie Lian growing up and I got so emotional from the environment that forced him to.

Ch 82: The effects of the aphrodisiac-like drug were paused somehow.

- Me: Hm, was it cause Xie Lian cut himself and drained some of the blood away? Or was it cause some of his blood mixed with Hong Hong-Er’s blood was inserted into his bloodstream. Wait, if that is true. Xie Lian is lucky with his divinity he doesn’t get blood poisoning. 

The affects of the curse-drug are affecting Xie Lian and the novel is slowly climbing to the R-18 levels based on sounds.

- Me: Oh, Hong Hong-Er. I wish you luck and that you NEVER find out what those sounds mean until you are older.

Xie Lian ties a piece of his hair to Hong Hong-Er’s finger on one hand.

- Me: Wait, if Hong Hong-Er becomes Hua Cheng in the future, then...oh! This is where the red string ring on his hand comes from?

* Learns about Ch 83 *

- Me: Wait. -checks table of contents- *sob* oh thank god. There are like four more chapters to go instead of one really long chapter

Ch 83: Xie Lian pulled a Nagito Komaeda.

- Me: *Sob* Xie Lian, no! I understand why, but nooooo!

Feng Xin and Mu Qing find Xie Lian on the ground with the sword and freaks out. Then once Xie Lian is out, they explain that Yong’An has hidden backers secretly supplying them supplies for war.

- Me: Fu-dge. It’s getting bigger than expected.

Xie Lian comments to his retainers that the Young Solider has the potential to wield the Sabre, like Mu Qing. Mu Qing: *Unreadable expression*

- Me: Oh, is Mu Qing jealous? I think Mu Qing is jealous of a teenager

Back at Xian Le: Xie Lian runs into Hong Hong-Er again. Hong Hong-Er says he got kicked out of the army because...

- Me: ...Did baby Hong get kicked out the army because the army found out about his cursed existence? *Gasp* What if Mu Qing did something out of spite/jealousy. 

Ch 84: First victim found to possess the Human-Face disease is found in Xian Le. Everyone starts to freak out because of the large commotion it made. The ‘Face’ is revealed to be functional somehow.

- Me: *Reading the description* Oh gods. I think I’m going to be sick.

Hong Hong-Er tries his best to help Xie Lian do damage control

- Me: Awe, Hong Hong-Er. How adorable. You are trying to seek attention

Hey, remember the child of Lang Ying that was buried near the temple? Yeah, it became a curse/demon after being buried for over a decade without proper rites.

- Me: *Sigh* Why am I not surprised. Actually, I am very surprised. This was near a sacred place and NO ONE noticed this slowly growing into something dangerous an alarming rate.

Human-Face disease is growing and people are desperate. They turn to Xie Lian thinking he could do something instead of trying to find an alternative solution.

- Me: Man, I am so glad for modern medicine and the ability to have multiple paths taken to try and find the solution to this problem.

Learning about Human Face disease

- Me: Will make another post for theorization of how the disease come to be, but for now.

- Me: Wait, if the cursed child grew from almost over a decade ago, then that means Hong Hong-Er is like around 15 now...Holy shit.

Ch 85: Xie Lian created an idioms punishment if Feng Xin and Mu Qing’s arguing went out of control

- Me: Aww, how cute. This will also be good practice to familiarize one self with literature and language. 

Guoshi asking Xie Lian the hard, but necessary hard questions. Scolding Xie Lian for his naive ways of thinking and he should have listened to Guoshi from the beginning. Says that this matter with the kingdom of Xian Le is going out of control cause of Xie Lian

- Me: I know that the Guoshi is trying to drill the important stuff into Xie Lian’s head. But he is also at fault for omitting/withholding important information that Xie Lian should have learned

- Me: Flipping balancing act, that is ugh.

Yong’An troops is now classified as an army. The battles become bigger. Lang Ying is shown in a one-on-one battle with Xie Lian that he has a Deus Ex Machina effect attached to him

- Me: Oh no. That is not good. That is a sign of the shift in power and Xian Le will, the inevitable is coming. 

Human-Face Disease: Becomes sentient and eats and screams

- Me: O-oh *Blegh* Not good.

Ch 86: Xie Lian took a nap and woke up to a quilt on him

- Me: Who placed that on him? Hong Hong-Er? Did you do it?

The rapidly declining situation is now affecting Xie Lian to the point that he snaps. He punches a tree. Scared of the enemy and is getting desperate?

- Me: “To rise is human. To fall is also human” Shit, that is coming true now.

Xie Lian trying to call out for the White-Clothed Ghost. Said Ghost appears & tells how the Human-Face Disease came to be to Xie Lian

- Me: I already made a post about this. No need for repeat

- Me: The Human-Face disease. I am actually curious how it came to be.

Ch 87: Reveals the origin of the Human-Face disease in his bedroom to his retainers. Knows how to cast, but no cure

- Me: Oh god. It is a curse with no counter spell. Oh no.

Xie Lian and Mu Qing are fighting. Feng Xin, stays quiet until he can’t take it anymore and snaps.

- Me: Ah, a fallout? No, an argument. This is the start of the splintering between these three. Mu Qing always says the blunt truth with no consideration of how this will affect people later.

Earthquake? Happens later. Qi Rong jumps out from under the bed

- Me: Oh no. Fu-dge, it’s bratty Qi Rong. He is going to blabble, I can feel it

Ch 88: Xie Lian calls upon a giant golden statue of himself to hold up the Celestial Pagoda from falling

- Me: Wow! Gundam. Xie Lian can control an ancient Chinese Mecha. Wait, *inhales* o-oh. Atlas. Xie Lian is now representing Atlas.

Xie Lian’s strength is failing him. All he can do is hold up the pagoda.

- Me: Xie Lian is losing belief. No, not that. Also is anyone going to do anything to evacuate precious items form the Pagoda before it will eventually fall?

Qi Rong blabbles about the Human-Face disease. It makes everything more stressful for Xie Lian

- Me: Goddamnit, Qi Rong. I called it.

The outbreak of the Human-Face disease in the capital + Yong’An finally invaded the capital, people going to Xie Lian asking him to fix them even though he can’t. All of it builds up and then Xie Lian falls and breaks his leg. After, changes as something indescribable is lost.

= Me: ...oh Xie Lian. 

- Me: Depression...?

Xie Lian thinks he is a god of misfortune. Watches his temples burn with no emotion. Empty.

- Me: ...Xie Lian. I can’t understand how you are feeling, but the void and empty feeling? I can relate.

There is one temple of Xie Lian that was going to burn, but stopped. It is revealed a young teen has been protecting this temple. A painting of Xie Lian is revealed.

- Me: ..Hong Hong-Er is that you?

Xie Lian decides to let this teen see him on whim for a second. His retainers and the teen are surprised. Xie Lian tells the teen to forget him,

The teen: “IN MY HEART, YOU ARE GOD!”  “I WILL NEVER FORGET YOU!”

- Wow. I can hear the theme music play in an uplifting tune.

MXTX Author’s note read

- Me: Wow. All of this story so far for this one image. Amazing.

Okay. Book two got me emotional like I said before that I read straight to book three next. Once I have a good place in book three, I will do a post then

#sunmay rambles #sunmay reads tgcf #sunmay reads tian guan ci fu #sunmay reads hob #tgcf #tian guan ci fu #tian guan ci fu novel reaction #hob #heaven official's blessing #hob spoiler #tgcf spoilers #the end of the long emotional roller coaster for Xie Lian #Now there is more questions I want answers to #Especially how did he gain the cursed shackles and Ruoye

[mittens-220]

Hey, I’m new and just found your page. I LOVE! Devil is a part timer so much.

I don’t know if you’re still answering questions about the Light Novel, but if you are:

how much stronger has Lucifer gotten at the end of the light novel?

Is he able to switch between having demon powers and angel powers??? (It would be so cool if he could 😆)?????

What’s Lucifer’s relationship with his Mother, Ignora? I heard something about Ignora ending up being their neighbors or something is it true how does Lucifer react? Does him and Ignora ever reconcile?

How is Lucifer doing at the end of the Light Novel?

What’s Lucifer and Gabriel’s relationship? Like how do they interact?

How does the main gang react to finding out for the first time that Lucifer is the Son of Ignora?

What do you think of Lucifer’s silver-blueish hair and read eyes? I absolutely love it! 😻 🥰 It really shows that Lucifer truly is the most beautiful Angel.

In fact are there any references to the whole “Lucifer being the most beautiful angel” thing?

How does the gang react to seeing Lucifer’s silver-blueish hair and red eyes for the first time?

How do they react to seeing his white wings for the first time?

How does Lucifer react to seeing himself with silver-blue hair?

Is the Manga story the same as the Light Novel?

If it isn’t so you know where I can read the Light Novel for free?

If it is then that means there would be no point in trying to find a free English translation online right?

Do you know any good Devil is a part timer Lucifer focused fanfics?

So many questions in one go  *sweats* well, at least you asked the right person I guess?

how much stronger has Lucifer gotten at the end of the light novel?

Taking Volume 0 to be the starting comparison point of Lucifer’s strength, he is clearly weaker in Volume 1, didn’t fight much in Volume 4 and Volume 8, and didn’t fight at all in Volume 21. There are no other fight scenes involving Lucifer on screen in the other volumes. So the only answer for this is I don’t know since there is simply no basis of comparison.

Is he able to switch between having demon powers and angel powers??? (It would be so cool if he could 😆)?????

He has never switched quickly between using demonic magic and holy magic in the series before. If he drinks Holy vitamin beta or absorbs holy magic from Suzuno’s blessed food, it is possible for him to use holy magic while still harbouring some demonic magic in him. 

What’s Lucifer’s relationship with his Mother, Ignora? I heard something about Ignora ending up being their neighbors or something is it true how does Lucifer react? Does him and Ignora ever reconcile?

Lucifer’s relationship with Ignora was never explored in detail. It is true that Ignora ends up holing herself up in Room 202 at the end of the series, but there are no scenes of Lucifer and Ignora reacting after she is in Japan to confirm if they ever reconciled. 

How is Lucifer doing at the end of the Light Novel?

He is being a babysitter/big brother figure to the Ente Isla Sephirah who are currently being rehabilitated in Japan. He seems to be happy with what he is doing and also doesn’t want Ignora to recover and come out of Room 202 that quickly because he finally got used to taking care of the Sephirah and doesn’t really want her to be around to lecture him on how to take care of them.

What’s Lucifer and Gabriel’s relationship? Like how do they interact?

Like an uncle and nephew, it’s like Gabriel is taking care of his best friend’s son or something. Gabriel also seems to be one of Lucifer’s sources of financial support in taking care of the sephirah.

How does the main gang react to finding out for the first time that Lucifer is the Son of Ignora?

Nothing much, they just carried on as if that fact wasn’t mentioned at all. Only Chiho asked Lucifer later on over the possibility that Lucifer would fight his own mother. From this, it’s quite obvious how much they care about Lucifer i.e not much

What do you think of Lucifer’s silver-blueish hair and red eyes? I absolutely love it! 😻 🥰 It really shows that Lucifer truly is the most beautiful Angel.

I love that look too, too bad it’s not shown that often.

In fact are there any references to the whole “Lucifer being the most beautiful angel” thing?

No

How does the gang react to seeing Lucifer’s silver-blueish hair and red eyes for the first time?

The first time the gang saw Lucifer with silver hair was when he was in the hospital, at that time, they just thought it was weird and couldn’t get used to it. Maou then saw Lucifer with silver hair and red eyes in Volume 19, but he didn’t react specifically to that because he had bigger matters to worry about.

How do they react to seeing his white wings for the first time?

Eh, that should be in Volume 4, Maou and Ashiya saw and they were quite surprised, but Lucifer told them it was not the time to talk about this and explained he got holy magic from eating Suzuno’s food which had been blessed with holy magic

How does Lucifer react to seeing himself with silver-blue hair?

He thinks it’s weird and he hates it.

Is the Manga story the same as the Light Novel?

The general plot is the same, but the manga cut out some scenes or rearranged some scenes to stay within the page limits per chapter and to make it easier for the readers to understand the story

If it isn’t so you know where I can read the Light Novel for free?

Since the plot is the same, I guess I don’t have to tell you where haha

If it is then that means there would be no point in trying to find a free English translation online right?

You can always try, it’s not that hard with the right search terms

Do you know any good Devil is a part timer Lucifer focused fanfics?

Judging by how you have been reviewing and favouriting the fanfics on my fanfiction account (yes I am also pika318), you have found them already

#hataraku maou-sama! #the devil is a part timer

[blancheludis]

@whumptober2020 Day 3 “Held at Gunpoint”

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Howard Stark Tags: Tony has Issues, Young Tony, Bodyguard Steve, Misunderstandings Words: 3.689

Summary: The cold barrel of the gun feels almost nice against Tony’s pounding forehead, and he is not sure anymore whether it is meant as an encouragement to come closer or a warning to stay away. It doesn't matter. He only ever does what he wants anyway. 

---

The pounding in Tony’s head does not stop even long after he has left the club. Not the rhythm of too loud music makes him move his feet but the instinctive knowledge that he will collapse somewhere soon and he desperately wants that place to be his bed. Bad things happen when he lets his guard down – and he could do without the lecture from Howard.

Tony knows the way to the mansion without having to concentrate on where he is going. He has made this trip hundreds of times in various states of inebriation. It does not feel like home but the demons inside are easier avoided than the ones out here.

The gate is closed and the wall of windows is dark, especially the one to Howard’s office. That is no guarantee that the old man is asleep and will not bother Tony, but he sighs in relief nonetheless. The only thing worse than a migraine is Howard’s booming voice increasing the pounding.

Without needing to look, Tony enters the code at the front gate, keeping himself upright by leaning against the cold iron. When the gate suddenly opens, it almost throws him down into the dirt. Tony is not sure he would get up again, so he fights to stay on his feet.

Once inside, he turns towards the garage. The way to his room is shorter from there and he wants to avoid waking his father at all costs. For some reason, only one Stark is allowed to get blackout drunk in this house and that is never Tony.  

Once inside, he does not get far, shocked into a half-sober state by finding a strange man standing there, about halfway between the entrance and the door to the mansion. He is tall and blond and looks like he could break Tony with only one hand. The somewhat official looking, dark outfit makes it unlikely that he is a burglar – and it is well known that breaking into the Stark Mansion usually does not end well for intruders.

A new guard then, Tony guesses. For several years now, Howard has hired bodyguards for Tony, whose task was less to protect him and more to make sure he does not bring more shame down on their name. Needless to say, none of them lasted long.

The man notices Tony as soon as he steps into the garage, probably even before Tony notices his path is blocked. He straightens, which shows off his very nice shoulder line, and one hand goes to the gun on his hip. His posture is not yet threatening but a warning in itself.

“Wrong turn, buddy,” the guard says firmly but without aggressiveness. His voice is a pleasant surprise, not quite soothing Tony’s headache but not aggravating it either. “This is private property.”

A grin steals itself on Tony’s lips. He cannot believe that the new muscle does not recognize him. True, Howard’s features have slackened with the years and too much alcohol, but Tony still looks too much like him. even in ripped clothes. Beyond that, everybody knows Tony. He cannot take a single step outside without someone bothering him. And yet, a guy Howard probably hired to keep him on the right path does not even recognize his new charge. This could be fun.

“My, look at you,” Tony drawls and straightens his spine so he does not look like he will keel over any moment. “Are those muscles real?”

The closer he gets, the more mouth-watering does Hot and Blond look, even when his face darkens and his eyes narrow in indignation. Does Howard hire these people specifically for how easily Tony can bypass their defences?

A name is stitched onto the dark fabric of the uniform. S. Rogers. Not that Tony intends to use his real name much. He likes his nicknames.

“Mr. Stark is not entertaining guests tonight,” Rogers says instead of answering, standing much more stiffly now. Almost as if he is trying to take the emphasis off his muscles but managing the opposite entirely.

Tony is now close enough to realize that Hot and Blond does not only look tall but has at least a head over Tony. Leaning against a car, Tony looks him up and down with an openly suggestive grin.

“I’m sure he would like to be entertained by you.”

Perhaps Tony should not make an enemy out of the new guy. No matter that his career here will be a short one, considering nobody has the mental strength to deal with Howard and Tony for any length of time. He could still hurt Tony. The ones who believe they will have him easily in hand are usually the first to run to his father to rain down hell on him. Tony just cannot help himself, though. He is tired of Howard trying to control him, of people thinking they own him.

“Sir,” Rogers says with obvious strain in his voice. “I must ask you to leave.”

It might be an unconscious thing, but he widens his stance, eyes narrowing at Tony as if he is already picking out weak points. Tony is the weak point, the whole disappointing entirety of him.

“Oh, don’t be a bore and let me pass. I feel like puking.”

This would be easy to clear up. He could just tell Rogers his name or they could call for Jarvis. That would be too easy, though, and Tony does not like easy. He wants to know what the people around him are made of, how carefully has to handle them. Howard likes to hire those who are already a little trigger-happy before they ever meet Tony. And Tony, well, sometimes he feels as if he is made of gunpowder, ready to blow up at the first wrong move.

So, Tony does not give his name but just turns towards the door like he has already forgotten all about Rogers. It is a good thing he never let Rogers out of his sight because he has not even made two steps when there is rustling and Tony hears the familiar click of the safety of a gun.

It looks strangely hot, the way Rogers aims the gun at him. The muscles of his arm are much easier to look at. Tony could do without the pained determination on his face, however. If he will be shot in his own home, he wants it to be done with glee, not a tired sense of duty.

Tony stops and turns back fully to Rogers, openly amused at being pointed at with a weapon. The guy is trigger-happy then. Nothing in this situation calls for the use of a gun. Tony is obviously drunk and this guy could break him in half without even trying. It would be easy to simply pick Tony up and deposit him outside of the gate. But, no, Tony does not do as the nice man says and gets a barrel pointed at his face for the trouble.

Heart-rate picking up, Tony thinks that now they are getting somewhere. With just a spark of regret, he realizes he is not drunk enough to deal with this in a sensible way. Here he is, ready to be shot only to see if he can push a stranger into firing.

Perhaps people are right when they say Tony is sick. He should not be drawn to trouble like it is a magnet and he a simple compass needle, and yet that is where he goes all the time. Nobody has ever done it, either, actually pulled the trigger. Well, there was that one kidnapping where Tony got hit by a stray bullet. But, generally, people seem to think he is worth more alive and yet they never do anything to make him feel the same.

A smile spreads on Tony’s lips, growing with every thundering heartbeat. Maybe this is what it means to feel alive. His heart is stumbling, his hands are ready to grab something to fight or defend himself with, excitement stirs in the pit of his stomach – or perhaps that is fear. He does not know. Only that there is undeniably some life inside his body, for once more than just in his mind.

“Do you even know how to use that?” Tony asks and quietly calculates how quickly he would have to move to dodge a bullet fired at him at this distance. He would not make it, of course, but he has always liked numbers.

“I suggest you turn around and don’t try me.” Rogers’ hands remain steady, but, to Tony’s slight disappointment, he does not look like he wants to go through with his threat anymore.

People like this hate others being cocky, so Tony simply shrugs and says with a grin, “I like challenges.”

Then he walks forward, noticing the surprise on Rogers’ face when he manages to walk in a straight line. It also has him tightening his grip on the gun as if he only just realizes that Tony is not as drunk as he seems. Well, he is that drunk, but he knows how to pretend. That is one of the few useful lessons he learned from Howard.

“Come on,” Tony says and keeps walking until the barrel is only inches away from his face. He wonders if it would be cool against his forehead. “Shoot.”

Certainly, there are worse ways to die than getting shot in his own basement, drunk enough that he does not care for all the big and small hurts and disappointments piling up in his chest. It would be unfair to Jarvis, though, who would likely be the one to find him, the only one searching for Tony when he does not come home. That is, if Rogers would not proudly tell Howard that he has successfully eliminated a threat to their great estate. Tony wonders what Howard would do. Fire the guy, surely, but maybe give him a quiet bonus too, for dealing with his perpetual problem.

Nothing happens, so Tony takes the time to look. The guy is hot, more so from up close, even with his pinched expression. Tony wonders what he can do with these hands. That one thought sparks a flood of others, building the ultimate plan for revenge.

Slowly, suggestively, Tony sinks down to his knees. The hands with the gun automatically follow his movement, although it appears like the stranger is not quite aware of it. Like that, he looks far more menacing. His muscles are bigger, the barrel blacker. Tony likes the thrill running through him. It is something to feel other than numbness and disgust.

When he leans forward, his hands on his own knees, Rogers instinctively moves back, although he catches himself quickly.

“What are you doing?” he hisses, all amusement gone from his tone. He still does not make a move to shoot.

“What does it look like, honey?” Tony purrs, enjoying the brief panic flickering over Rogers’ face. Not his area of expertise, then.

Rogers freezes when Tony dips his head forward and muzzles at the crotch right in front of him. For a moment, the air is ripe with possibility. Then the man comes to life with a jerk and, suddenly, the barrel of the gun is pressed against the top of Tony’s head, pushing him away. It is cold, and almost as satisfying as Tony hoped.

“Mr. Stark has tasked me to keep everybody out of his home so I must ask you to leave,” he says, his voice rather pressed. Still, his hands do not waver.

The mere mention of his father has Tony rolling his eyes. It almost takes the fun out of this, but then Tony thinks of how they must look to someone else. He on his knees with a gun to his head, Rogers glaring down at him. If Howard found them, he might put that bullet in Tony’s brain himself.

“Of course, he did,” Tony says and does not hide his derision. “Mr. Stark is a raging homophobe. He’d likely fire you because you haven’t shot me already.” He pushes slightly forward against the barrel to emphasize his point. Then he adds, almost as an afterthought, “Depending on his mood, he’d give you a raise if you got rid of me quietly.”

Indignation passes over Rogers’ face, which disappoints Tony dearly. How does nobody see through Howard’s lies, his pretty façade?

“Mr. Stark is not in the business of hiding bodies,” Rogers replies stiffly.

Sharp laughter claws its way up Tony’s throat and it rings out hollowly in the garage. Their entire company is built on producing dead bodies. Granted, they do not have to hide them because people tend to applaud them for it, but the point stands.  

“You must not have worked for him long then,” Tony says and looks up at Rogers through his lashes the way he knows people like.

Tony has not been home for a few days, but he certainly would have noticed eye candy like this wandering around. Which means he might be in the process of ruining this guy’s first day of work. Well, he will probably thank Tony for that, later. The great Howard Stark is only so nice to look at from a distance.

“Get up,” Rogers then orders, his patience running thin.

Tony grins and moves further in, presses his lips against the dark cloth in front of him. “Oh, don’t worry, he’s almost there.”

Tony knows he has gone too far a split second before Rogers moves. It is like a light switching off behind those blue eyes, making them frost over. One moment, Tony kneels in front of Rogers, ready to end his night with a bang, the next he is face down on the hard concrete, a knee in his back and the gun still too close to his face.

“I said, stop.”

For just a moment, Tony regrets his decision. Being pressed down on the floor, everything becomes too real. But then, that is what he wants, yes? Something real. Not Howards endless expectations for him to be someone else. Not the public’s ever-changing and ever-terrible portrayal of him. Not this carved out path that Tony is supposed to follow. Here he is, utterly human and just one wrong move away from getting some blissful quiet in his head.

He does not want to die, but he does not particularly want to live this life either. Over the years, he has done some stupid things, has even aimed a gun at himself. Nothing compares to the real thing, though. The flutter of his heart, the way time trickles so slowly. Tony thinks he can understand why people throw themselves out of planes or climb mountains without safety gear. He is alive only in this moment when that could quickly change.

“I heard you the first time,” Tony admits without showing any regret. This is his home and Howard taught him how to get what he wants – and he definitely does not want guards following his every step and judging him when he comes home too late or too drunk. It might be unfair that this guy got caught up in this ongoing war between Howard and Tony, but there is no helping it.

“Then I suggest you start listening,” Rogers growls, all out of kindness. “I’ll accompany you outside and you’ll leave without making a fuzz, all right? Then I might not have to tell Mr. Stark about this.”

That last thing is mostly self-defence, Tony knows, but that only makes him pity Rogers.

“You have much to learn if you think you can do anything to make the old bastard happy with you,” he says and means it as honest advice. “Fuck me right here or let me back out into the wild, you’re in for a lecture.”

Tony is not the only reason they never keep their staff long. People simply have enough options these days that they do not have to suffer through Howard’s terrible moods.

“He must be used to dealing with groupies,” Rogers says and does not yet make any move to haul Tony to his feet. He could, easily, and Tony would not mind being manhandled a bit if that would not end up with him back on the street. The whole point of coming through the garage was to not wake up Howard.

“Groupies?” Tony repeats, feeling the urge to laugh again, but he does not get enough air into his lungs for that, pressed to the ground as he is. “Please. The only people willing to kiss Howard’s ass are other corporate idiots or gold diggers.”

And the papers, lately, since they have found a better victim in Tony.

“Well, I don’t have to ask which one you are.”

That stings, strangely. This guy’s opinion should not matter and yet Tony has become overly sensitive to these things, if only because no one ever seems to have anything positive to say about him.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have to ask who I am,” Tony says and wiggles in Rogers’ grasp until he can look up at him. “I hope you made him pay you in advance.”

Although that is never a problem. Howard might yell and throw around insults, but he always makes sure that people are paid, if only to keep them from talking. The new guy might not know that, however, and Tony is done being generous.

“Are you ready to leave yet?” Rogers asks instead of answering. He looks as done as Tony feels. “I can do this all day.”

Oh, Tony will destroy him. He is basically begging for it. With a small grin, he says, “I’m more interested in what you can do all night.”

“Stop talking.” The disgust flittering over Rogers’ face is sadly familiar, but that does not mean he will not crack.

“I know a way –”

Tony does not get to finish his sentence because the man pulls him roughly to his feet and gives him a shove that almost sends him down to the ground again. He groans in protest as his ribs ring with pain at the impact.

It is definitely time to end the game. Tony wants his bed and an Advil to stave off the headache he feels building behind his temples. He turns around to keep Rogers from ruining his own life any more, but does not get farther than that.  

“What is the meaning of this?” Howard’s voice rings out over the garage, already on the verge of becoming angry. Depending on how much he heard, Tony will need more than an Advil to get through the night.

“Sir –” Rogers says but cuts himself off when Howard shushes him. He stiffens briefly, then straightens as if he wants to salute. The gun is back in its holster, and Tony wonders when that happened, but it is probably better for both their sakes if Howard does not know that Rogers pulled a gun on his son.

Tony turns to fully face his father – and show off his rather indecent clothes. They are not too revealing but still not befitting a Stark out in public.

“Just testing out the new guard dog, daddy dearest,” he drawls while keeping Rogers in the periphery of his vision.

The change on Rogers’ face is a revelation in itself. He looks between Howard and Tony, must see the likeness between them, and realizes how gravely a mistake he has made. It all plays out perfectly on his face, all his emotions displayed clearly.

“You are a disgrace, boy,” Howard snaps. These words have stopped hurting around the hundredth time he has heard them. “I should let him throw you out.”

He has done so before. Locked the doors and refused to let Tony in. “But you’re too afraid of which bed I’d end up sleeping in,” Tony replies sweetly. That was a hard lesson for Howard.

He must remember it too, because his face darkens further. “Get inside.”

Since he did not say Get in my office, maybe Tony cat get away with locking himself in his room while Howard deals with Rogers – who stands nonplussed in the background, likely not understanding the animosity between father and son. They are so similar, after all, and yet poised to destroy each other instead of conquering the world together.

“Don’t fire this one,” Tony says and pats Rogers’ chest as he passes him. “He wasn’t going to let himself be bought.”

That is as much of an argument he can offer on Rogers’ behalf. It is unlikely that Rogers will keep this job for long, but Tony does not want to get him fired the first time they met.

“What use is a bodyguard if he doesn’t recognize his charge?” Howard says, the words full of derision, but that is still directed at Tony.

“Well, you always say I’m nothing like a Stark, so you can’t fault him too much.” He should not sound so happy about this, should not reject the Stark legacy so often in front of his father. This is a cage, though, and he will keep rattling at the bars until they finally give.

“Get out of my sight.”

“Gladly,” Tony says and means it. A dismissal is the best ending for this night. Since there is always a little demon riding on his shoulder, however, Tony turns towards Rogers again. “Good night, gorgeous. And do come by my room if you want to get to know me better. Just so we can avoid you mistaking me for an intruder again.”

It is unfair to stab at someone who cannot fight back, not with Howard watching them, but Tony is all out of sympathy for the night.

“Good night,” Rogers says with beet-red cheeks. Belated, he adds, “Sir.” It does not sound very sincere but it has Tony smirking. This one really will be fun. It Howard does not fire him on the spot. Tony might look for him in the morning. He bets those muscles look even better in sunlight.

#whumptober2020 #no. 3 #Held at Gunpoint #marvel #fanfiction #tony stark #steve rogers #bodyguard steve #my writing #ao3