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#I say clown nightmares.
fated-normal-767 · 1 year
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I ❤️ listening to MAG 165 “revolutions” on loop to sleep. yes I get clown nightmares. I will continue to blatantly refuse to see a link.
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uncanny-tranny · 8 months
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By implying that children are too stupid and rude to learn about the world and learn how the world works and how to interact with others, you are casting responsibility away from the people who are responsible for that child's upbringing and placing the blame on the children (who don't have the autonomy given to them to be allowed to decide what they want) who can't help what they do and do not learn, often.
If the children aren't okay, then investigate why before turning to thought-terminating clichés of, "Well, the kids are just stupid and dumb and aren't even worth the effort because they're lazy!"
#youth liberation#i was really bothered when i saw this clip where this person was saying almost verbatim that...#...'kids [these days] are too STUPID and they're teachers are scared!'...#...why is the blame placed on the kids who have no control over school curriculum and what their home life is like or if they have money...#...it's because when you place the blame on the people with no power or control you don't have the responsibility to change circumstances..#...you essentially keep the status quo while simultaneously belittling a group of vulnerable people...#...and thus you feed into the cyclical nature of the broken education system#the kids these days AREN'T okay but it ISN'T THEIR FAULT...#...it's the fault of late-stage capitalism and poorly-funded education and a world that wasn't even built with them in mind...#...they had NO PART in the creation of the world which is hostile to their entire existence#don't mind the incorrect usage of their in the second tag i was so focused on how pissed i was#also remember how a good chunk of these kids lived through *checks notes* the fucking PANDEMIC LOCKDOWN#which was a clown show in terms of supporting kids and their parent/s#some places handled lockdown in the US better than others but holy fuck in my area at least it was a nightmare#what do you expect from parents who are now working full-time and teaching part/full-time and parenting full-time?#what support exactly are you expecting they recieved? because you'll likely find they got either a little or NONE#hilarious that i used the wrong their in a post subtweeting about education LOL#look i was focused on how PISSED i was lol cut me some slack here
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randomfandomss · 8 months
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To the anon who sent me the ask regarding Loki. I won't be posting it since if it is true, they would be major spoilers.
Anyway, i dont know if its true but thank you for the heads up! I will manage my expectations accordingly.
Also, if it is indeed true how absolutely fucking awful.
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dnangelic · 15 days
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i think the funniest thing about baku is the fact that legally they should be considered dark n daisuke's/the niwa family's jester
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krownest · 5 months
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probably because i've been in canada so long + around peers that talk about going to therapy and such normally that i'm so thrown by how backwards the attitude towards mental health is here in hk.
like yes companies and the gvt have definitely been talking more about mental health since covid19 pandemic but i was at a family dinner recently and the topic of discussion was this other family whose son was going through a breakdown esp wrt his relationship to his mother.
and all the aunts and uncles were like "taking psychiatric medicine is the last resort because once you're on it, you're stuck on it forever" and "oh he doesn't need meds, he just needs therapy, meds are for the real crazies" etc along that line
meanwhile i'm just staring into the camera at this point
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drit-writing · 11 months
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I just had an awful awful evil nightmare and I spent 30 minutes describing it to my bf so I’m posting it because I put the tiniest amount of effort in. There are worms (parasite kind) so be cautious. Also apologizes for formatting, mobile is not kind to me.
There was this guy who drove a minivan down to this super run down pier. It looked like an old fairgrounds with graffiti all over, complete with a rusty Ferris wheel- also graffitied- slowly swaying in the wind.
The fairgrounds wasn’t abandoned by any means though, there were a bunch of people. Under the docks on the actual beach there were a couple people arguing over the price of some drugs, and it ended with a knife fight of sorts. There were people rummaging around in old food stalls and sleeping on shut-down attractions.
Anyway, the man parks and gets out. He also gets this little girl out of the back. They start walking down and it’s clear the man is the father, but he doesn’t super like the girl. He cares enough to lie to her about all the drunk/passed out/possibly dead people as “taking a nap” but doesn’t care enough to not bring her here.
They stop at this stall that must have been a petting zoo at some point because there’s a fenced-off grassy area to the side. Some scrap material was cobbled together to make a sort of stable out of it, with each slot having a dirty looking baby doll on a small blanket. There’s an old woman who greets the man as he approaches in a flirty sort of way- they know each other well and he’s been here before.
As a little tangent this woman is CREEPY AS FUCK. She has this bug-eyed look to her (not literal bug eyes, but they look too big for her small, sunken face). There’s a cigarette in her mouth that she’s more chewing than smoking. She’s clasping her right hand over her left wrist constantly, and her left pointer finger is always pointed out. This woman is pretty much all bones, so it gives an ET look to her finger. The pad of her pointer finger has some red on it- it’s too bright to be blood but it’s hard to tell what it is. Her veins on the left arm are also darker than her other arm.
Back to the plot, the father/daughter approach the woman, who greets in a flirty/coy manner. The man responds in a similar way, not to say he’s interested, but like she has something he wants. The woman chews on her cigarette as they make small talk, and the daughter hides behind the father’s leg.
Finally the woman gestures over to the dolls and asks “buying or returning?”
“Just returning a few,” the man replies.
“A few? No big haul?” The woman asks, taking a few steps towards him. He takes a couple steps back, almost tripping over his daughter, “Nine returns.”
At this, the woman nods and gestures for the pair to follow her. They go into the stall and sit on some rotting wooden chairs. The man and woman talk some more, and the girl gets shooed off into the chained fence area. Once the girl is gone, the woman smiles (and is missing a few teeth) and sits closer to the man. He tenses up, but doesn’t move away. She shows the pad of her finger to the man and says in a loving way “I finally got it to stick.”
“Sorry, got what to stick?”
“The eggs! They actually hatched, and they’re already growing.”
The man squints at the finger, not wanting to get closer, and there’s this kind of zoom in effect in the dream. Anywhere there’s red on this woman’s finger there’s small sharp barbs leaking this strange liquid. Beyond that, there’s something dark in her veins clearly moving- squirming.
The man scoots the chair away from the woman, but tries to look relaxed. She’s still smiling, clearly not sensing his discomfort, “I can’t wait to finally start that family we’ve been talking about.”
At this, some of the “dolls” in the grassy area wake up and start crying. The man shifts in his chair and glances at the doorway where a few annoyed people pass by.
“I haven’t been able to take care of them since the eggs, I didn’t want to start until you were here,” the woman continues. She stands at this point, and the man does too. He drops the relaxed act and stammers about needing to get the rest of the “returns” and needing his payment, but the woman just talks over him.
“Soon we’ll have children everywhere! And I really want you to be the first.”
She reaches out with her pointer finger and rubs the pad across some exposed skin. There’s a sharp prick to initial contact that turns into a scratch when the woman moves her finger. Immediately after there’s a burning sensation and the man starts screaming.
I woke up here but probably worse things happened after.
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delicateimage · 1 year
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Everytime I see a furry anywhere my heart skips a beat (out of FEARRRRRRRR)
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salami-dono · 9 months
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It's Eddie Dear. I have a lot to say about Mr. Dear here.
First off, I wasn't sure how to present them in a post, so I just lined them up all together. I could post them separately, but the resolution wouldn't be any better. If you don't know about the Welcome Home project, you should look it up! Support Clown if you end up liking it.
The Big Challenges here (➡🐊⬅) were keeping all of the images consistent and, of course, coloring all of them the same way. Oh, what a nightmare! I also tried another new thing. Most of the coloring was done on one layer. The exceptions were the hats and rainbow neckties. Oh, and the envelope.
It was worth the trouble, he said, grinding his teeth.
All of the poses were referenced from the animations of Bobby Fulbright from Ace Attorney - Dual Destinies. He is one of my favorite characters. He's cute, he's funny, and I admire his passion for justice. (🚨Do NOT look up Bobby Fulbright if you'd like to play Ace Attorney spoiler-free.)
Eddie #1: Oh, Dear! Eddie's lost his hat! He can't deliver mail without his hat! Won't you help him find it, neighbor?
That's... kind of the idea for the first Eddie. It reminded me of a funny childhood memory. I stole my uncle's hat and he pleaded for me to return because it was "the source of his power." Obviously, I had to keep stealing it after that. He pretended to wither away and die if his hat wasn't returned. haha
I'm done! If you'd like, I could tell you a little about Bobby Fulbright and his partner, Simon Blackquill. It won't be a great description. If you're an Ace Attorney fanatic, you're not allowed to correct me!!! You can, however, tell me how diabolical I am.
Bobby Fulbright is a police detective and a self-proclaimed champion of justice. He acts like a superhero. He even has a catchphrase! It's, "In justice we trust!" In Japanese, it is simply, "JUSTICE~!" He has a friendly, honest, and bold personality.
He's also very loud.
Mr. Fulbright was assigned to Simon Blackquill, a cold-hearted killer with a tear-stained face. They call him the Twisted Samurai. He worked as a prosecutor while serving time. Prosecutor Blackquill constantly barked orders at the half-witted detective. Fulbright seemed unfazed by his insults, manipulation, and intimidation. Despite his past, Detective Fulbright fully believed in Blackquill's redemption and eventual return to society.
It was said that they worked in-sync in the courtroom.
I'd better stop there. You see? He's not at all like Eddie. 🤣 Thank you for reading!
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darkbluekies · 5 months
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The OCs search history <3
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Silas:
"How to take care of ptsd in partner"
"How to make someone stop crying"
"How to make your partner forgive you"
"Best restaurant"
"Dark web"
"Diamond ring/neckace/earrings/bracelet"
"Best steak"
"How to stop people from gawking at my partner"
"Protein powder"
"Best soap to wash away blood from skin"
"Best detergent to wash away blood from clothes"
"Best cleaning supplies to wash away blood from walls"
"Best spray to keep blood smell away"
"Five star restaurant booking"
"Why are my clothes thrown out the window?"
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Dr Kry:
"Morphine"
"Book series without explicit scenes"
"Healthy recipes"
"How to frame someone for murder"
"Am I secretely perverted"
"Forged signatures without watermark"
"Protein shakes"
"What happens if you mix poision with alcohol"
"Puzzles"
"PG-13 rated movies without angst or horror"
"Plushies"
"Needles"
"How to become an author?"
"How to know if your strict childhood has had any impact on your mental health"
"How to get over your phobia for germs?"
"Strong caffeine drinks"
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King Edmund (let's pretend he has internet for a hot minute):
"Is it really dictatorship if I let people complain"
"Ptsd test"
"Why doesn't my wife talk to me?"
"Nightmare analysis"
"How to cheer up an angry wife"
"Can a queen rule over a king?"
"How much alcohol can you drink before you get knocked out?"
"Beatiful dresses for a queen"
"Jewelry for a queen"
"Are public executions a good fear tactic?"
"How do women's anatomy work?"
"Can you punish theft by death?"
"Can you cook rats?"
"Why are little kids scared of me?"
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Jerry:
"Is drinkable bleach a thing????"
"What to do if your s/o is a fucking loser"
"Is saying 'you're an idiot' synonyms for 'i love you'?"
"Guns"
"Knives"
"Sexy outfits that doesn't make me look like a fucking clown"
"How to ask someone out on a date without sounding like a loser"
"Impressive date ideas"
"Alcohol that will make me forget today, yesterday, tomorrow and a week forward"
"Spare parts to motorcycle"
"Why am I so fucking cool?????"
"Why am I so fucking miserable?????"
"How to hug your s/o without it being cringe"
"How to make your motorcycle go much faster?"
"Boxing gloves"
"40 boxes of *your favorite snack*"
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Hedwig:
"Aestethic wedding ideas"
"Is baby trapping illegal?"
"Is nepotism really that bad?"
"How to guilt trip someone"
"Utterly obsessed with my partner"
"How to be a good kisser"
"Dark web"
"Buy hitmen"
"How to bankruptcy someone"
"How to impress your partners parents"
"Best flowers for dates"
"Best hotel resorts for couples"
"Can you become a super model without school grades"
"Love poems"
"Poison"
"*your adress*"
"Best perfumes to seduce someone"
"*your instagram*"
"*your name*"
"How do I know if I'm blocked on social media"
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cherubfae · 3 months
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how they cuddle || slashers x reader
With Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Billy and Stu, Art the Clown, Vincent, Bo, Lester, Sal Fisher, & Thomas Sawyer
tags: AFAB reader (not specified), cuddling, affection, rz!Mikey, art is his own warning lmao, terrifier 2 spoilers, little spoon!slashers, nightmares (Sal), comfort, poly!Ghostface, I low-key rant about art in Vin's lmao
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Michael
Exhaustion isn't something he's used to feeling so heavily in his bones. He feels the heavy weight rippling across his broad shoulders and spiraling down his spine in white hot pain. He's not a tame being, but he is a bit more docile in the months before and after Halloween. His knife doesn't thirst for blood quite as much as on the 31st.
Seeing you in your bed is a welcomed sight. Michael doesn't say much more than the soft grunt of acknowledgement as he sheds his coveralls from his dirt-caked skin. He has a lovely warm bath that loosens all the tight muscles of his lower back. You'll have his head later for leaving a ring of grime in the tub; Mikey doesn't care about that right now.
The fresh sheets are so comfortable, accepting them fully as Michael tucks his face into your side. His recently cut hair is still long enough to form a fringe curtain over his grey eyes.
Jason
Softly leans his chin to your shoulder. Depending on how far along you two are into your relationship, Jason might feel comfortable enough to have his mask removed. He's aware the material probably doesn't feel too pleasant being pressed to the side of your face or lightly digging into your skin.
His arms wind around your waist, happily sighing as he leans himself against you. Jason also doesn't mind if you switch things up and hold him in return, stroking the top of his head softly.
Brahms
If there's a way where he can wind his body around yours, Brahms will find it. He definitely likes keeping you away from all of the noise of the world, and while he's not mega happy about it, he knows you need trips into town sometimes. He likes seeing what kind of food items you bring back because the meals you make are simply delicious!
After dinner and bathing, Brahms snuggles beside you, clinging to you like you've been gone for ages. The chill of his porcelain biting into your skin as he happily huffs behind it. He's so glad to have you. <3
Billy and Stu
The pair are constantly together, if not with you, then they're almost always flanking each other's sides. The other is often not far from the first. Adding you into their duo to form a trio didn't change much of their dynamic. Instead of the two boys slinking around, they've got you as their third and final confidant.
Billy isn't the most touchy-feely person-- that's what he likes to claim. He doesn't really know how to ask for the things that he wants. He's different to Stu in the way that he's silent when you press your hand to the brunette's cheek, smiling as his eyelids flutter closed. Subconsciously leaning into your touch, chasing the feeling when you pull away.
Stu likes to be what he calls the mega spoon. It's him behind you, snuggled at your back, and with Billy pressed close to your chest still too proud to say that he enjoys being taken care of as the little spoon. You three make a nice, lovely three-person sandwich. Even when lying down, you're in the center with the boys wrapped around you like snakes. There is no them without you; you are their missing piece.
Art
This man is mostly, if not always, within your personal space. 'It's not yours, it's ours'. Art is rarely a being ever to break character or change out of his damned costume, and his hygiene is quite questionable sometimes; though he does in fact bathe and wash his suit. Just not often.
He's a man of very few words, especially when he's deep into his clown character and doing what he does best. Being immortal has its advantages, but his fight with Sienna really put him through the ringer. Art was decapitated! What a riot.
With his strength slowly returning to him, Art is always almost underfoot. In your bubble, seeing what you're doing. Snuggling up to you in a rare moment where his costume is off, leaning his head into your chest with an exhausted expression. It seemed that Pale Girl was allowing him some respite with you for a bit.
Vincent
He is a busy man, constantly sculpting and creating. His sketchbooks are filled to the absolute brim of beautiful works of art in all sorts of mediums: charcoal, graphite, watercolor, and ink. You're his muse, his favorite subject of which his art circulates. There's something so breathtaking about you, minute details that only an artist can see within people. An eternal, everlasting beauty.
Vincent is quick to jot down the rough outline of your sleeping form resting against Jonesy. He's smiling behind the wax mask, skilled fingers shading the crease of your eyelids then moving to sketch the curve of your Cupid's bow. When he felt it was finished enough for now, Vincent sets his book aside in favor of crawling into bed beside you.
His broad frame dwarfs yours as he curls his body around yours, his large hands slide beneath your sweater pressing across your tummy. Vincent really adores you, you know?
Bo
Not much of a cuddler, but if you get especially pouty about it Bo will roll his eyes and tug you to him. He can be a major asshole but he doesn't like seeing his baby upset.
He tucks you beneath his strong arm, his mechanic's hat resting on top of the back of the sofa. Waiting for you to settle down doesn't take long as you're soon drifting off with your head on his chest, focusing on his hand placed on your knee; gently stroking the skin there. His eyes begin to droop, feeling heavy. Cradling the back of your neck, Bo allows himself to drift off, too.
Lester
Long days certainly do get to him sometimes. Tiring him out something awful. He's prepared enough roadkill and deer for his brothers and you, enough to satiate any hunger for the time being until he finds time to run into the nearby town again.
Lester finds you lounging in his bed with Jonesy, Vincent must be working hard and the pup sought out attention where she could. He had no idea where Bo was or whatever the hell he was up to.
Collapsing onto the bed, Lester sighs deeply when you immediately comb your fingers through his messy short hair. He's out like a light soon after.
Sal Fisher
Poor guy has so much going on that sometimes he just wants to crash and sleep for one-thousand years. He doesn't sleep well on the best of days, plagued by frequent nightmares that not even the warmth and comfort of your sleeping form beside him can quell.
Another nightmare yanks Sal out of a fitful sleep. One that has him patting the sheets, searching for you. The heat of your skin against his hands sends a calming peace over him. He's scooping your sleeping form in his arms, his face hidden in your neck. Sal gives a weak smile as you snuggle into him. He focuses on your even breathing, allowing himself to fall asleep soon after.
Thomas
It's incredibly hot on the best of days in Duller County, the Sawyer family set up several oscillating fans that constantly work overtime without a proper functioning air conditioning unit.
Even the lackluster cool breeze and the sweltering Texan heat aren't enough to have Tommy pulling you into his lap and nuzzling his masked face into your hair.
You're much smaller than him. It gives Tommy a sense of pride knowing that he's your big, strong protector. :)
Patrick
He is such an enigma, a contradiction. Patrick isn't much of a cuddler or snuggler but he wants to play the role of being a dutiful partner. He is quick to become a jealous lover if you were to find someone else to give you attention while he's fretting over what sort of shade of cream or white Paul Allen's next business card will have.
|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024
A prideful, vain being such as himself would never admit how much he truly does enjoy having your curl up next to him. The warmth your body exudes is a comfort, one he finds him seeking out more and more even though your relationship is still within its earlier stages. Patrick hates that he finds himself being so undone by you, but he can't find it within himself to stop either. There's something inside of you that his fervent bloodlust can't be satisfied by.
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saltedpineapple · 1 year
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it is done-
Someone has probably made something like this. So i guessthere's double the flluff
by the way, this was a nightmare to make. One of the very few reasons i dont do ship art. It took an entire day , one of the reasons being that the evil clown music i was listening too kept making me do laps in my room. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong with this one. And i kinda slowly gave up
But hey! im still happy with this!
Yes i made the background, drawpile was giving me issues-
shoutout to Silly Playlist , gotta be one of my favourite genre's/
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adding this here cuz i like this vers too. BTW art done in drawpile and effects like the first was done in Paint Tool Sai
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fraugwinska · 1 month
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I'm dying to see you write Alastor opening up to Reader about his mom, maybe a little angst and lots of fluff? (- v -)''
WE NEED THAT MOMMAS BOY GETTING SOME COMFORT!
Finally Anon, I found the strengh to write this. Sorry it took so long - I hope it was worth the wait! Next story will be less sad, I promise! :'< But I think we can all find some love for our Mommas Boy today, right? (Prepare your handkerchiefs, fellas...)
❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️
Mother O'Mine
Not the kitchen. Not the lobby. Not the bar. Not the radio tower. Not his room.
You sighed and stilled for a moment, thinking of a place where he could've gone.
If Angel had just shut his damn mouth. Mother's day was a shit day for everyone in the hotel. You, who never knew a mother, raising yourself in the farce that had been the foster care system, rued the day. Charlie was still in denial about her mothers blatant absence and ignorance, Husk melancholic and tense at the memory of seeing his mother being exterminated shortly after reuniting with her in hell, and Vaggie bitterly wanted to ignore the holiday all together, feeling as though she would be betraying the mother she could no longer reach in heaven as a fallen angel.
Angel had been pissing them all off by breakfast, obnoxiously mocking their various reasons of why this day felt even heavier than others in hell. You knew it was his own way of coping with his mommy issues - something he didn't even talk about with Husk, as far as you knew, but he bordered on being not only menacing, but outright cruel.
Alastor had listened to his rambling stoically, flipping eggs while drinking his coffee with not much more than an annoyed twitch in his brow, but then the spider made the gruesome mistake to mention her.
Alastor's mom.
"What, 'ya think any of 'ya mothers could even look at 'ya without punchin' themselves? Come on, look me in the eyes and tell me Bambi's mommy wouldn't be fuckin' disappointed by what her little fawn has become... Can ya really see a sweet southern lady all happy, lovin', and coddling ol' murder-clown Alas..."
The green explosion came faster than you could blink. You were frozen in place, only staring in fear and worry when Angel landed unceremoniously into the table with the rest of the breakfast, the other residents as shocked and dazed as you were, while the radio static and greenish-black shadows seeped away from Alastor who then swiftly made his way out without a word, holding his staff while his tendrils bristled dangerously.
Alastor had vanished and the only thought coming to your mind - after giving a cursing, groaning Angel a righteous 'You fucking deserved that'-speech - was that you needed to find him before the princess did to make sure the demon had calmed enough not to finally lose it and maul her to pieces. Charlie meant well, but she didn't know. No one did know, except for you, and even you only knew so much.
It's not like it had been an elaborate talk. It just happened, after a nightmare that made him tear up in a mixture of rage and sorrow, a bad memory that had made his shadow basically drag you, half asleep still, from your bed to his in the middle of the night. Why you? You weren't so sure. Alastor usually preferred your company more than the others just because you were the most neutral, sane person in the hotel. Some would even say impassive. An introvert who didn't draw attention, silent and observing. But not once had his shadow ever acted up around you, and while it wasn't overly friendly with anyone, it seemed to watch mostly you with curious glances and interested hisses. When you had finally woken up enough to comprehend your situation, you were sprawled across Alastors stomach with his arms wound so tightly around you you struggled to breathe, strained mumbled words pressed through gritted teeth into your nightgown.
"Mother... I'm sorry... Oh mother..."
He had been sobbing into your shoulders and and shaking against your chest while he let go of a strange anger and grief he never seemed to get rid of while you had, confused but worried, whispered words of comfort in a hushed, soothing voice until you both dozed back to sleep. Morning broke, and when you opened your eyes again, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, not able to look you in the eyes. He had thanked you, gruffly and with an unsteady voice that made your heart ache, before offering his hand to teleport you back to your room. As far as you were concerned, the weirdest of it was that you felt him caress the palm of your hand with his thumb, barely audible as he mumbled that "that should have never have happened, and we shall never speak of it again." - he was usually a gentleman, and he never touched you this intimately before - but, to him, it was obviously a humiliating and horrible thing that you had witnessed him like that.
And you didn't speak of it. No one knew, and you intended to keep it that way. It was a moment you shared and fragile trust was on the table. You would take it to your second grave, along with all those feelings that had come with it, to prevent it from breaking.
Back to the present, you sighed and massaged the bridge of your nose. You had checked all the obvious places that crossed your mind, so maybe, you should start to look at the not-so-obvious ones... Maybe some place you knew was connected to... His mom...
A sudden pang hit you as you got an idea of where he might be hiding.
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"Is this seat taken?"
The roof of the hotel was usually restricted from access, due to the general instability and collapse-prone architecture it presented, but you and (after an admittedly awkward encounter on a hot day that had involved you in a two-pieced swimsuit sunbathing and a very flustered Alastor with a book in one and a severed hand on a plate in the other hand) the radio demon knew about a small nook between the roof's overhead window frames and the hotel's ventilation system, hidden by the growing shadow of the radio tower where no one else ever came looking. A hideout, a place to go when you wanted undisturbed solitude. You had quickly left the place, apologizing for intruding a space that Alastor had apparently already claimed for himself (explaining the existence of the lounge chair you've so rudely used), but soon enough he discreetly invited you back, second chair added, to sit in silence together every once in a while, as long as you swore secrecy. It became a place of comfort for both of you, a retreat when life in the hotel got too stressful.
Alastor's reaction to seeing you was a quickly stifled hum before going back to staring stubbornly at the horizon. He looked dejected, and if you would not have known him so well, you wouldn't have noticed the trembling twitch of his ears nor the way his claw tapped impatiently against his knee, his shadow balled in on itself while hovering at the edge of the small roof.
It looked like he was staring straight through the distant buildings of the pentagram to the faintly illuminated orb that was heaven next to hells own sun, while also refusing to acknowledge you or the world around him at all. His smile had slipped into an emotionless line of pursed lips.
"That depends" he mused quietly. "Are you here to make me return to that insolent arachnid and attempt a 'healing' conversation?"
"I think you know I know that I couldn't even if i wanted to." You tried a weak smile.
Alastor briefly met your eyes at that, giving away that, despite his aloof act, your comment got his attention and he considered it before turning back to the horizon, the tense posture relaxing somewhat. A brief silence passed until he hummed an affirmative noise. "Then you may sit, darling."
After sitting down, minutes passed without a word said. The distant roar of the bustling traffic carried the muffled sounds of hell with the usual maelstrom of catcalling, profanities and general noises of mayhem to you, while you fought to keep a certain twitch in your hands as you counted the beats of his heels clicking on the tiles.
"You must know... my mother was a rare light in a world of filth." he declared suddenly into the silence. "An honest, virtuous soul of beauty and strength." He said it slowly and, surprisingly, completely unamused, the clacking of his shoes ceasing at once. He stared at the city in contempt, hands clasped together and resting on his legs to hold back a tremble that you caught anyway.
"She, unlike me, had not a spec of corruption in her bones. Wherever she found the warmth and love she shared with me, I cannot fathom. But she did. I may have been mocked and shunned by the world, the bastard child of a black woman and a white man, but I always had her as my home to return to.” The knuckles on his hands turned white. “But the cruelty of life and the disgusting human that was my father, the unbearable excuse of a man, killed her before I was grown enough to help. Before I was old enough to kill that monster myself." He spat the words, claws digging deeper until a faint trickle of blood could be seen. "I remedied that circumstance, twice to be exact, although it couldn't make up for what was lost. Nothing I did to him could make up for it..." his smile widened bitterly as his face twitched, recalling a fond, yet regretful memory. "… and believe me, I tried. But it was cathartic nonetheless, and quite educational... for my further career."
You stayed quiet and studied his profile, patiently waiting for him to continue talking. It was painfully obvious how hard it was for him to speak about actual feelings, with his tense grin and his white knuckles dripping with crimson blood.
"I knew, of course, where I would end up after my demise, and that I would never be able to see her again. Because I was sure she'd end up in heaven, like the saint she was. Is." He cleared his throat, attempting to appear dismissive, but you saw it. The sadness, the longing, the resignation, and it shattered your heart.
"Alastor...", you knew he hated physical touch, but your hand reached out on its own, to stop his hands from ripping themselves apart. He stiffened at the contact, but said nothing.
"Don't tell me you took what Angel said to heart..."
"How could my mother love me after what I've become after her death?"
His tone was monotonous, but his hands trembled under your fingers. He refused to look at you, but you saw his eyes, glazed with wetness that threatened to turn into actual tears. How he could still smile was beyond you, you had your theories on that, but that wasn't important right now. What mattered was that he was hurting, and that fact broke your heart. You never knew motherly love, how could you really miss something you never really knew? But Alastor did, and it had been ripped from him in the must cruel way, the impact of it so hard it made him even question the very foundation it was built upon.
You moved your hand from his to cup his cheek and turn his face to yours. His expression was blank, and if it weren't for the tight grin and the eyes filled with an unspeakable anguish, it would have been an emotionless stare.
"Alastor, do you know the poem Mother O'Mine?"
"I'm afraid the memory of it fails me, darling."
"Then, I'll recite it for you."
"Why?"
You gave him a sad smile.
"Because I want to."
He eyed you with stunned curiosity as you reached into your pocket, glad for once for your mostly useless power. You've only told Husk about it, in one of your late nights where everyone else was asleep aside him and your insomnia got the better of you, drunk and as a bargaining chip for one last gin tonic.
The blank piece of paper was a bit crumpled, but it would do. You started to fold it while you spoke, your voice sounded soft and almost like a spell.
"If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"
Your fingers moved with a solemn purpose as you folded the paper this way and that, a skill you perfected out of boredom over the years, the edges turning into an elegant shape, the poem coming from your mouth like a song. Alastor watched your hands move in a trance, not sure what you were doing, but too focused on the faint glow of purple around them to ask.
"If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose tears would come down to me, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!"
There in your hand, sat a little origami bird. It wasn't anything special, maybe a traditional crane would have been better, more elegant, but you were out of practice and for what you intended to do it would work either way. Carefully you reached out, silently demanding for one of Alastor's hands that were still digging into each other. He didn't protest, and slowly raised it to give his hand to you. The tips of his claws were covered in a thin, fresh layer of his own blood, and his skin was warm and slightly clammy. You put the little paper bird on his palm, a speck of his blood staining the bottom of the pristine white paper, and closed his fingers around it, holding it in both of yours.
"If I were damned of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine."
His enclosed hand in your own was encased in purple light, with wide eyes he followed the soft tugs of your fingers and opened his hand. The little paper bird flapped it's wings on his flat palm, looking at him for a heartbeat before taking off and flew in a singular circle around his head before it headed into hells deep red sky, towards the bright heavenly sphere. You watched it until it vanished completely from view, hoping there was a possibility that maybe, with a bit of luck, it would find it's way to her.
"This, Alastor, is what a real mother is. She loves you, I'm sure of it. Always has and always will."
Tears fell silently on his lap, a strangled, coarse breath escaping him. Without warning, he pulled you from your chair into him, holding you pressed close to him. Just like in the night of his nightmare, his face was buried in your chest, arms wound tightly around you in a hurting embrace and shoulders trembling with suppressed grief. His grip was bordering on painful, but you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying one of your hands in his hair, stroking gently while you let him quietly cry into your shoulder, not caring that the wetness of his tears was soaking through the fabric of your shirt. You felt his heart beating rapidly, his pulse erratic and his breathing fast.
"I miss her. Oh, how I miss her."
You held him tighter.
"I know, Al... I know."
You didn't know how long you two stayed like this, him in your arms and crying silently while you tried your best to comfort him, but you didn't care. As far as you were concerned, you would stay here forever if it only meant to lift this weight for a little while from his shoulders.
It took him some time, but eventually his breathing evened out, and he calmed down, his hold becoming less desperate and more... affectionate. You didn't realize it at first, but he had moved, his head resting under your chin and his forehead leaning against the hollow of your throat, his antlers slightly poking the thin skin. It felt strangely intimate, and you wondered if he was aware of what he was doing, but the moment he moved to get up and leave, you knew the spell was broken. He didn't let go of you entirely, but instead helped you to stand up and held your hand, his gaze firmly planted to the ground, avoiding your eyes.
"Darling, I..."
"Don't worry, Alastor. Although I'm glad I was able to be here when it happened... we shall never speak of this again."
You could feel his hesitation, a strange nervousness radiating from him. His shadow hovered next to him, a hand reaching out towards your face. You smiled at it, and, just for a brief moment, allowed yourself to lean into it's warm, buzzing touch as it caressed your cheek, before you turned and made your way back inside without a glance back to the sudden sound of a longing hum.
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lovingksuki · 3 months
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✰ SECRET ADMIRER pt.2
— highschoolers bakugo x fem!reader
synopsis: an anonymous love letter appears in your locker on valentine's day. surprised, you and your best friend start an investigation to uncover who was that person observing you from afar. meanwhile, a flushed bakugo tries to ruin your plans on the undercover alongside his shitty-haired buddy
cw: sfw; mostly fluff; lil angst; very insecure bakugo; romantic comedy; puberty; silly jokes; little swearing.
an: guyyyyss it's hereeee. i hope you enjoy since i had many people asking for me to continue with this. i hope it is as good as the first part that btw you can read here
wc: 1,3k
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the two went on a mission walking around the school and very non-suspiciously investigating whose hand that might be.
"i'm telling you! there's sato, iida and..." counted.
"are they even suspects!?" you mocked. "we have to be coherent about it. i don't even have a major relationship with them..."
"how could you possibly know what goes on inside other's head? i think you're being biased about it."
"what do you mean?"
"i know you want it to be one of the hottest in our class!" smiled diabolically.
"i have no idea what you're talking about." you sweated.
"maybe we should call that double colored guy and just ask a few questions..."
"no way... what are you insinuating?" you almost screamed truly shocked.
"that you have a slight cru-"
"I don't have a crush."
"admit it already."
"I'm not admitting anything. quit pestering."
"you're no fun at all. so... are we talking to Todoroki any soon?"
"no."
"psst, isn't that sero coming this way?" mina whispered looking ahead of the corridor.
the duo telepathically agreed to their next move and mina quickly went in action.
"hey, if isn't our fave tape boy! can I have a high-five?" the pink cheered lifting her hand.
the jet-black haired guy smiled playfully slapping hands with her. watching everything, you caught that glimpse of time needed to take conclusions on the survey.
"what are you two up to? feeling extra energetic today..." sero stated.
absorbed in your own thoughts, you simply couldn't answer any of the questions made, so pinky said in advance: "we're just too excited for the... the-"
"for what?"
"the new movie...! yeah! that one with the clowns. everyone is so hyped to watch it!" mina came up with some excuse.
"oh, so you like 'bloody nightmare' series too? man, me and denki are gathering people to go watch with us." he cheered.
you and mina eyed each other nervously while sero kept rambling about horror films. pinky swiftly poked your side sending the 'make him shut up' signal and you quickly catch the message saying:
"y-yeah! it would be super cool, but we need to... to... go to the 1b room! to dis- discuss the next match-"
"we're discussing the teams for the next training match!" mina rapidly came with an excuse ready to push you up the corridor. "see ya!"
"but guys... their class is towards the other side." sero warned confusedly.
"r-right! it's been months, but we still get lost... hehe!" mina sweated. she spotted a purple voluminous hair meters away. "shinso! wait up!"
and you runned away. sero chuckled observing the girls as another duo approached.
"'sup pal?" kirishima greeted. "it's a important matter so, could you share what are the girls planning? we have business with them."
"it's no use, we're gonna lose sight of them." said the blonde ready to walk away, but his buddy was fast to grab his shirt stopping his tracks.
"be reasonable, it's creepy to chase them around the school." eijiro whispered.
"what are you two up to?" sero crossed arms curious about the situation.
"nothing particularly important. girly borrowed something from bakugo." his heart he thought slightly laughing. "did them say anything about where they're heading?" asked.
"mina said they have something to do with class 1b, and i think they left with shinso." sero explained.
"not that eraserhead wannabe..." katsuki gritted teeth.
"well, no time to lose then! thanks dude." kirishima dragged his best friend away.
when the two males finally found the duo they were shocked to see you holding shinso's hand while walking
kirishima panicked turning to the blonde who watched that scene petrified. it was the second time eijiro saw that expression on his face, the first was when they watched all might last fight. that expression that indicates he started malfunctioning, his thoughts are running wild, and he is about to break.
when he finally inhaled, kirishima's heart skipped a beat thinking bakugo would explode at any moment. he prepared himself to restrain his friend from murdering somebody or start yelling like a psycho, but bakugo just hollowed his lungs right after.
watching deadpanned as you walked away giggling.
that behavior... it was truly concerning coming from him.
"are you totally sure?" mina whispered excited.
"it's a great probability, didn't you see that monstrosity of a hand!?" you whisper-exclaimed. "his grip almost crushed mine!"
"okay, but let's don't get ahead of ourselves, there's other boys to analyze." mina said carefully.
"right, but he's a suspect! and did you notice how he didn't hesitate or felt uneasy to hold my hand?"
"i'm not jumping to conclusions but he seemed too chill! it's almost unnatural coming from a person who wrote a love letter." mina spoke wisely.
"you're right." you pouted.
"what am i suspect about? love letter!?"
"aaaaaack! for fucks sake!" you and mina jolted. "y-you heard us?" you asked shyly.
"were you eavesdropping!?" mina confronted.
the boy leaned in the doorframe crossing his arms unphazed by the pink's attitude. "you're not even whispering... some of 1b even heard about how i have big ass hands and shit." he chuckled.
you looked over shinso's shoulder only to encounter monoma, kendo, shiozaki and komori confusedly observing at some distance. "h-hey guys..." and kendo smiled amused.
"he caught us, mina. what do we do?" you said fidgety.
"there's no other way now that he knows our secret. we must kill you." mina stated creepily serious to shinso, making him falter.
"ha. you almost got me there." he laughed mindlessly. after a couple of seconds staring at each other he came to realization. " you're joking,,, right?"
_
"why did you have to scare him like that? what if he go out telling others?"
"it's quite the opposite. he won't tell anyone if he believes it's confidential information. you can question my methods but not my results!" the pink girl explained confidently.
walking down the corridor in search for another male friend. now that the lunchtime was coming to an end the school was less fuzzy, and the groups concentrated in their usual places.
"uh... mina... you're not actually dangerous, are you?" you blurted.
she looked at you puzzled, as if that question was more complicated than it actually seemed. "why do you ask?"
"it's just because, you're my best friend, and if it were for me to have a psycho so close to me i would want to know..." you reasoned.
"don't be ridiculous!" she laughed. "but like you said, we're best friends, that does mean i would probably hide a body for you."
"wait. what the-"
_
"kirishima it's been thirty minutes." the blonde stated impatiently.
the boys were sitting casually at their class waiting for the others to come grab their keys to the closets. p.e was the next hour.
"just be patient dude, when she arrives, you casually get up and go talk to her. do you remember the three steps?" the red haired pointed.
"don't scream, don't curse and look at her in the eye." bakugo grumbled a little skeptical.
when they heard high pitched voices and footsteps approaching the blonde jolted in his seat.
"there they are." kirishima whispered. "good luck soldier"
katsuki got up with a sigh, heart beating fast, he didn't even notice his feet leading him directly to you and almost fainted when you looked at him with those doe eyes.
"h-hey."
"hey!" you greeted rummaging your backpack.
"i was... i recalled that time last week you shared your notes and... i"
"you came to say thanks? it's alrighty! just gimme a shoutout whenever you need!" you smiled
his ears reddened. "y-yeah. but i was trying to ask if ya wanna grab milkshakes sometimes, my treat for the notes." katsuki managed to spill
"oh! i didn't expect that" you giggled thinking that was a cute way to invite someone to hang out. "sure. i provide the notes, you provide the milkshakes." you extended your hand "deal?"
he smirked satisfied shaking you hand.
"deal."
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lord-of-0blivion · 1 year
Text
Ok, so Danny rules all afterlifes, and being the clown hating little shit he is goes:
◇Sky goes green over Gotham◇
"Listen and hear this Royall decree!"
"I, Phantom, God-King of all afterlifes hearby say"
"That as long as your crimes do not exceed his, and you are willing to repent,"
"So long as you kill the Joker, all your sins will be absolved and you will be granted entry into your Heaven of choice!"
Jason-*Sheds a tear* Fuck yeah! *Fist bump*
Harley-*Evil grin*
Ivy-*Evil grin... but in green*
The rest of the bafamily-"Does this mean-"
Batman-"No"
The rest of the bafamily-"But God said so!"
John 'Fuck my life' Constantine-"I need a drink.... Who emptied all the pubs!?" (By bad luck he just happened to be in Gotham)
The rest of Gotham-*Party! Umptz! Umptz!* (Also emptied all the pubs)
The Joker-"Uh oh..."
Danny 'Fuck that clown in particular' Phantom-*Literally splits his head in two like a nightmare cheshire cat grinning*
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s1x-s1x-s1x · 2 years
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Oh god please don’t tell me it’s wha to think it is don’t tell me don’t tell me am I rlly going back on god I’m gonna die glitch fuck
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alexa-fika · 5 months
Text
Midnight Lessons (Mihawk x gn!child!reader)
A/N: Here we go, stoic dad time! Guys please drop by my ask box, wanna get to know my audience!
Dividers by @saradika
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Night had fallen in Cross Guild’s headquarters, the members still busing around completing their chores. In the main office, quiet reigned between two of the founders, the only sound echoing in the office being of Crocodile’s exhaling his cigars in a thick mist, sitting at his desk and looking over the current paperwork, and the sound of Mihawk sharpening and polishing Yoru, on the office’s couch, his sharp gaze examines his black blade for any blemishes or imperfections.
A knock rings on the door to the office the two reside in
Crocodile’s eyes narrow slightly as he bellows smoke from his cigar and looks up. He sighed, remembering he had locked the door so he and his co-worker could have a meeting, so he stood up and opened the door, grunting when he saw who was at the door.
“Mihawk, it’s your brat,” he called out, staring at the child in front of him
Mihawk puts down his sword and walks over to the child. He squats down to the child’s level*
“Why are you awake at this hour?” Mihawk asked in a deep, quiet voice
The small child mutters something under their breath, sniffling.
Mihawk raises an eyebrow and nudges their arm with his finger, asking them to look at him instead of hiding their face.
“Do not mumble; speak up.” Mihawk’s voice is like a whisper, but his stare was piercing like a sharp blade
“Can I stay with you, Dad?” They cry out, voices still barely above a whisper
Seeing the child’s sad expression, Mihawk frowns and sighs quietly.
“Yes, you can stay. But not for long; you must return to your room soon. Mihawk’s voice was still quiet, but his tone had an unmistakable gentleness as he easily lifted the child carrying them back to the couch.
The small child hugged his dad tightly, trying to muffle their sobs so as to not bother their father at work.
Reader tightened their arms around their father; in response, Mihawk gently caressed their head and patted their back, silently reassuring the child.
“Why are you awake?” he repeats his previous question.
Crocodile glances at the pair once more before turning his attention back to a stack of paperwork on his desk.
“I had a nightmare,” they cry.
Mihawk’s brow furrows, and he looks down at the child.
“What was it about?”
“Y-you were gone.”
Mihawk’s expression tightens when he hears this. His eyebrows narrow, and his lips pull into a thin line. He stays silent for a moment.
“Do not worry about such things, I will not leave.”
Reader nods, comforted by their father’s short but meaningful words.
He pulls the child close to him until their head is lying on his chest, and their face is buried into his neck. The child can feel Mihawk’s heartbeat in their chest. He wraps an arm around the child, holding them close while they sniffle and sob.
Mihawk’s expression remains blank, and he does not say a word until the child’s crying stops.
Reader nuzzles closer to him as they are slowly lulled to sleep.
Mihawk’s arms enfold the child, gently caressing them and providing comfort. The child soon falls asleep, wrapped tightly in Mihawk’s warm embrace.
“Did they fall asleep?” Crocodile’s deep voice cuts in
Mihawk remains silent. He continues caressing the child, gently ruffling their hair. Then he softly turns his head to peer up at Crocodile, still sitting behind his desk.
“Yes.” Mihawk’s voice is still calm and tranquil despite his expression turning cold and serious
That soon changed, however, as the third founder slammed open the door as he came in, startling the child wide-awake, childish cries echoing through the office.
Mihawk tightened the grip around the child slightly.
Crocodile looks up from his desk, and his eyes narrow as he sees the third officer standing at the door.
“What are you doing, Clown?” he asks coldly.
Buggy’s eyes widen in surprise at his tone. He stumbled back, and then tried to compose himself*
“I…I was just-”
Before Buggy could finish, Mihawk’s gaze pierced through him. His eyes are dark and menacing, looking like he’s about to attack him at any moment. Mihawk’s hand tightened around the child again, and he was clearly agitated.
“Out!…” a low, deadly tone leaves Mihawk’s voice. Buggy’s eyes widened in shock, even he could not ignore the seriousness of Mihawk’s tone and expression. His eyes darted to the child, still sobbing and buried in Mihawk’s arms. Buggy gulped before quickly turning to leave the office. The whole place became silent again, with only the sound of the child’s soba as they cried into Mihawk’s chest.
“I’m going to pulverize him,” grunts Crocodile
Mihawk’s attention goes from the doorway towards the crying child in his chest.
Eventually, and with the help of Mihawk’s warmth and comfort, Reader’s cries recede. They are still snuggled close to Mihawk and can feel themselves surrounded by his warmth and presence. His fingers still brush through their hair while his other arm holds onto the child firmly.
Mihawk gently moves Reader from his chest to between his legs, grabbing his sword and continuing to sharpen it
Reader looks at his actions entranced, his attention captured by Mihawk’s strong but careful sword care.
Mihawk’s hands move gracefully over the blade, which shines brilliantly in the candlelit room. His motions are quick and efficient, and he works accurately and skillfully. His face remains calm and unconcerned as he continues sharpening his sword. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Reader staring at him with a mix of curiosity, fascination, and admiration. The unspoken question lingering in the air.
“No, you cannot work on this sword.”
Reader frowns at the rejection without the child having the chance to ask but makes no comment.
Mihawk notices the expression but does not say anything. He looks at the child and raises an eyebrow before turning his attention back to the sword. He runs his thumb caressingly along the blade but then stops abruptly.
“However, I can find a sword you can work on if you so desire, Blade Child.”
They smile and nod.
“I want to. Can you tell me how to do it?”
“Yes,” Mihawk replies in a low tone as he finishes sharpening his sword. Pulling Kogatana out from its sheath in his pendant and showing it to Reader.
“You may use this sword to practice on,” he says as he puts Kogatana down and hands Reader the sharpening stone, helping them grab it correctly and guiding their hands in the appropriate motion.
The child laughs gleefully, excited to be able to repeat the similar actions they saw their father do minutes prior
Mihawk relaxes slightly at the child’s enthusiasm; he watches as Reader sharpens Kogatana with gentle but firm guidance and hand placements. After a few minutes of instruction, Reader feels comfortable enough to sharpen the sword on their own. The light sound of the sharpening stone against the blade echoes through the office.
“I did it, Dad!” Reader exclaims, showing Mihawk the freshly sharpened Kogatana
Mihawk’s expression softens as he looks at the blade with the sharp edge.
Then he looks over at Reader proudly.
He nods his head.
“Yes, this is much sharper now. Not a bad job for your first time.”
Mihawk places the blade back on the sheath on his pendant.
The child laughs at the praise, knowing it is as strong a compliment as he could pull from their stoic father.
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Not sure how to feel about this one; what do you guys think? Please send in requests for what you guys would like to see next!
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