#be fucking normal in the notes or i smite you
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people on this website are notoriously unable to be normal about things they love, but less discussed is the inability to be normal about things they hate and only one of those is a problem imo
#hint: its not love. be so weird about your interests#but maybe be a hater in a more well adjusted way ?#nobodys saying stop being a hater my god be a hater#but please like......... think before you solidify a belief that is undeniably Too Much for the subject matter involved#yall will be wishing death on people who are mid level crummy#calling stuff shit that is ok to average#the black and white thinking goes fucking crazy#remember kids: its ok to be a hater. its not ok to be an asshole#just bc you dont like it doesnt make it bad#just because someone is a bit shit doesnt mean they need to DIE#good lordt#vivziepop#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#vivziepop critical#hazbin hotel critical#helluva boss critical#sure why not. thats what this is abt lol#be fucking normal in the notes or i smite you#peeb post
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The more I learn about John Constantine? The more I am certain you COULD just... dump Danny on him.
Like... literally.
Full on, sack of unconscious potatoes, "here ya go, deal with it, here's an unconscious royal teenager!", Dumped in his arms/lap at some shitty hole in the wall bar, by Suspicious Supernatural Forces, DUMPED on him. Like? Yep. It's a Tuesday. Guess he's NOT getting to finish this beer.
And you know what?
Knowing the crowd Danny runs with? They'd at least... SORTA try and explain what's happening? Instead of play the fun ol "HOT POTATO! Think fast, Constantine! Figure it out!" And run shpeal that he normally deals with. Thoughtful, really.
Don't get him wrong. It's still BULLSHIT. But at least he has a vague idea of WHY he's holding an unconscious, heavily bleeding, half-divine-but-not-really half human, teenager.
Fuckers left a few sticky notes.
THANKS.
He just LOVES patching up actively radioactive wounds while trying to translate... what is this? Mesopotamian? Who writes out their emojis in Mesopotamian?! "Smiling face emotional picture" my ASS. Still...
Kid in way over their head, hunted by damn never everyone for trying to do the right thing, AND grappling with their recent lose of a decent chunk of their own humanity? Oh and now he's KING of a whole spankin new Realm!
Fuck "Realms". Nothing ever good comes out of "Realms".
And APPARENTLY? His VIP returning customers spot under the Bus has been reserved! Because he's the kid's "Gaurdian". Why? So the nice Goverment stooges in suits will come knocking on HIS door first, of course.
......he'd be more pissed about that one if he wasn't REAL interested in what those bastards had to say for themselves. Meddling with forces they shouldn't be touching. Provoking God only knows what. He fucking KNEW those storms weren't natural.
Just? John getting handed a Suspect Youth. Press X for doubt and Sus. Okay... then give him back. No! Fuck you, says local Laughing Magician, I don't trust you EITHER.
Danny wakes up to the... VERY? Ngl? Intense(tm) stare down of... holy shit, are you an Actual Angel? (Yes. He is. Better hope you're not secretly evil or he's gonna bring The Smiting) Then the world's ACTUAL greatest Detective, who is a chimpanzee, offers him expertly made tea and the cheap take-out John brought with him.
He is in Space.
It's still not the weirdest morning he's ever had. But it's getting there.
@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull
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Hey, Do you have any Chara headcanons?
So technically I already have a reblogged post of Chara headcanons. Right here, within the tags. (99+) Chara neutralist squad on Tumblr
However, I most certainly have not run out of things to talk about and so...
I now present Chara Dreemurr headcanons 2: Electric Boogaloo
1. Yes, so as I said before, they have been spotted reading the dictionary cover to cover multiple times and reads english grammar books for fun. It is like they have to use one word literally nobody understands at least once a day or they will figuratively die. And of course, they would be the one to say figuratively every single time they use a metaphor or hyperbole or turn of phrase and they would get genuinely annoyed with anyone who says literally when they don't literally mean literally. Chara is the kind of kid who if someone says "can I", they will say "I don't know, can you?" like an english teacher because it's supposed to be "may I" for allowances. And, Azzy, it's supposed to be "Chara and I" not "me and Chara" ...no-one cares.
2. Something vocabulary related is that Chara absolutely, categorically refuses to swear! Apparently, contradictory to popular belief given that they're an "edgy" character, they think they are far too intelligent, high-class and mature for such gauche and vulgar words (did I mention they're a loser yet?), you see, and they would definitely consider using words that mean almost nothing to be a grave insult to their extensive vocabulary.
This doesn't mean they don't have certain stock phrases they use as exclamations or insults, though, of course. "asshole" or "bitch" becomes "you complete and utter ingrate", "what the fuck/hell?" becomes "What on this good earth/What in the Angel's name?" and "fuck you" becomes "may the angel smite you dead" or "may you burn in hell forevermore" (except that since Chara Dreemurr has proved themselves able to dish out much, much worse insults than "may the angel..." (stuff like "you look horrible, why are you even alive" for example) this might just be more annoyance than genuine hatred.)
So basically, while a normal person might say "Ow! Fuck!" when they stub their toe on something, Chara "Sesquipedalian loquaciousness" Dreemurr starts up an anime villain speech at nothing in particular while Asriel giggles and possibly records in the background. (Because of Asriel's apparent love for anime, he'd probably find his sibling's way of speaking to be the coolest thing ever as well as thinking it makes Chara some sort of uber-genius (note: it does not))
3. Okay so, since they tend to fixate on being impeccable in every way, even for the smallest of things, they can get embarrassed very easily and...very dramatically. Not finding the best word for every situation (particularly if they end up saying something wrong), not getting a perfect score on the test, anyone (who isn't the Dreemurrs) seeing them when their appearance is anything less than completely spotless.
They shall freeze and go completely blood red, they shall squeal and run off to their room. They will lie face down, not making a sound, and stay there for...hours. They will not respond, they will not be consoled. They have recently learnt they're not literally the best at everything ever and no, nothing will ever be okay again.
...They'll be back to normal within a day, though, boastful and eager to impress as ever. I think at some point they do learn that maybe not being perfect isn't the end of the world...eventually. Anyway, heard someone saying that hell exists for Flowey and it is minor inconveniences and that is true but hell also exists for Chara and it is minor embarrassments.
(Yes, I am aware this is very exaggerated, it's just more fun that way)
They have an equally dramatic, though positive, reaction to praise and compliments. Giddily skipping around and smiling ear to ear for hours, they tend to preen and straighten up, and it turns out they were lying and can cry, (a lot) just not out of sadness or fear. Though, they do get somewhat good at downplaying how much they care in front of acquaintances or strangers (even if they are nice and polite about it). Technically, only the Dreemurrs are allowed to know that Chara feels emotions.
(Also they have the same reaction to realising they are in fact the prophesied angel in the murder run, despite not being a praiseworthy accomplishment in any way, they're just happy to be, well...special. They always knew the prophecy was about them! Of course they were the angel, they're the best person in the world after all, finally they have the title they always deserved! Oh dear...)
#Undertale#Chara Dreemurr#hey look! I did a thing#some quick fire hcs i'll probably elaborate on later#they named themself after the star#they don't like video games#they're terrible at puzzles#they don't actually like fighting all that much#they have a sketchbook#their locket is white and upside down#they really like nature and the majority of animals#they said their birthday was 99999#I might add more to certain headcanons in a bit#i answered a thing#nice people
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Subject: The Instrumentalist’s Ghosts
Art: blueirisvibes @blueirisvibes
Writing: Chir @dreamcatcher-ranger
[ID: A page of illustrations of ghostly figures titled, “Instruments (Ghosts).” Most of the ghosts are vague gray shapes with just the suggestion of form, all with red thread trailing from them. A few are more solid humanlike figures drawn in harsh shades like charcoal figure drawing. One of these appears to have pegs stuck in the sides of their head like on a violin. Various instruments are scattered across the page, including a trumpet, flute, violin, and piano. At the center of the page is a key with a crowned skull on the handle.
The following pages are written in blocky, all-caps text, with red notes added in different handwriting. It reads:
Instruments (Ghosts). Dangerous: Yes - if controlled by the Instrumentalist. (A note in red adds, “Otherwise they’re just people.”
Sentient: Full sentience--can be reasoned with. Playing their instrument can puppeteer them, though.
Encounter location: According to Diggory Graves, piano-connected ghost Percy Reed has been found in the abandoned Alder House. All the other ghosts instead can be found in the possession of the Instrumentalist Solomon Reed, who owns their instruments. Where the instrument is, the ghost is there too. (A note in red adds, “That slimy old bastard kept them prisoners by storing their instruments in his basement. The ghosts are connected through strings that can be cut only by destroying the instrument; once they’re all broken, the ghost is gone.
The Instrumentalist travels and fights using the ghosts. Since the instrument is required to be played in order to do so, the Instrumentalist attire is similar to a one-man-band. (A note in red adds, “Like one of those ridiculous toys.” A large drawing of a fermata symbol is drawn in red at the bottom of the page.)
Description: The ghosts look like they did when they were alive, except their appearance is modified as to how it was necessary to create the instrument. (A note in red adds, “Examples: Percy had his bones used, you can’t notice whether or not a person’s body contains bones. Can’t say the same for poor Al, though.”) Their bodies are translucent and luminous, but the colors are still discernible. They wear red band-players’ outfits. Can turn invisible. (A note in red adds, “Can you also build rock instruments? A guitar haunted by me would be sick...)
They’re created by building a classical instrument (Note in red: “nevermind.”) with their remains and then placing the instrument inside (Note in red: “Solomon you fucking psycho!”) Solomon’s cabinet(?). (Note in red: “You can change a ghost’s look by putting them inside the cabinet, together with new clothes. Diggory has also been able to cut Percy’s hair with silver scissors. When Percy is injured he bleeds black, and black are his scars.”
Abilities: Cannot interact with the external world on a normal basis, but since the moment that Solomon uses his ghosts to fight and travel, playing their instrument probably allows them to do so. As said before, the precision of their shape can vary, and they can turn invisible. (Note in red: “Zelda told me that Al can get, and I quote her on this, ‘real scary.’ I don’t know what that means.”) Can touch silver.
(Note in red: I saw this happen only a couple times, so maybe only Percy is capable of doing so, but when there are strong, like, really strong emotions at play the ghost’s body starts glowing white and becomes solid. But not just solid, also sharp. Percy has been able to smite that monster before the Spring Solstice party this way.)
Advice: You can hear the Instrumentalist’s orchestra music from a long distance. If you do so, run. Fast. The ghosts in themselves aren’t an issue; Solomon Reed is. Even if you could reason with them, if he plays their instrument the ghost will be puppeteered into doing whatever he wants them to do. (Note in red: “Also, Percy’s glowing death hands were activated (question mark) when Diggory was in danger. I wouldn’t risk threatening another of his loved ones.”)
Connections: The instrumentalist. (This is followed by a doodle of a skull and crossbones, and a note in red that adds, “Formerly. now all the instruments have been destroyed, and the ghosts freed. Only Al and Percy remain. Al lives with Zelda Duckworth at the Scoutpost, while I wouldn’t say that Percy is affiliated to the Scoutpost as much as he is affiliated to Diggory. I don’t want to be sappy, but I think he likes me and Olivier too.”) /end ID]
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Dashes reasoning was just
“Oh because why not”
An eldritch god, basically
Always changing form for… actually, she doesn’t give a reason. We only get “just cause” and we’re not supposed to analyze any further.
Smiting anyone who… actually she doesn’t anymore, You smiting everyone who talks bad or… just even doesn’t play into “she’s the best!” Ploy. Actually, there’s really only been like…one or two anons who sexualize her. Hmmmm….
Becoming a mother of 2, and she’s been showing up more actively because of it, actually. Still not…good, but she tries. A Void anon becoming a normal person. “Normal”
All of this, started by…you. The enabler, making the world about her, and youre gonna combat this but it’s true, from her dating
*Checks notes*
…green William Afton.
Like I said before, you smite anyone who dislikes the “age the best! The loveliest anon! I only keep anons on! She my maSTER PLEASE FUCK ME GRR RUFFRUFFAWOOGAAWOOGAMOMMY” So do it. Kill me. Prove me right. Prove that you can’t handle rejection. PROVE THAT SHE CONTROLLS YOU. DO IT.
[ .....get out, i'm giving you a chance to run, i never made the world about her, it's about me, it's ALWAYS been about me, this is my story..not anyone else's. ]
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i suck at listening to podcasts, but whats Hello From The Hallowoods? youve piqued my interest
HELLO FROM THE HALLOWOODS!! Oh man where do I even start with this one? There is SO MUCH TO IT...
So you know how a lot of series have a big catastrophic event, the kind that screws up the world and then your main characters get to go through all kinds of strange and unusual to get things back to normal? Right, so this podcast is that. That big catastrophic event. EXCEPT! It didn't get fixed. Our guys all exist as they do now as a result of that event AND IT'S ALL WELL AND COOL! "Yeah so what? The forests get weirder every day and so do I. Anyway I'm [], here are my pronouns, I gotta go now or else the library is going to smite me for these overdue books."
So you have ALL KINDS OF CHARACTERS! Skeletons. Werewolves from space. Old men who are lamenting the days when grounds keeping didn't involve magical bogs and musical ghosts. There's a genderfluid witch who controls the weather! There's business demons, frog people, a ghost dog named dogsmell (it smells like dog), a mushroom person with a walking museum, AND SO MANY MORE!
Story.. I really don't think I could do the story justice for you, but I'll see if someone else has made a good summary of it already! (Note after I finished typing this all: SOMEONE DID! It'll be the reblog right after this post.)
I'm trying to keep this as spoiler-free as possible, but I NEED to tell you about Lady Ethel Mallory. She's the one with the heart glasses I kept reblogging stuff about! I think you'd like her a lot. Basically, in the midst of this fucked up North America you have A SINGLE CORPORATION who's still hanging around trying to profit off of AN ENTIRE APOCALYPSE. How? Dreams! They deal in dreams. Nearly every character in the Hallowoods (fucked up North America) agrees that Botco (the corporation) is a bad bad thing and something they should never ever touch, but then Lady Ethel Mallory finds the most obnoxious moment in your dreams (in-podcast this story is being presented to you by a god-thing while you sleep) to tell you all about JUST HOW GOOD THIS PRODUCT IS. Except it's so hilarious because god-thing Nikignik (our podcast host) shuts down her advertisement ASAP and totally roasts her on live air, which she gets SO VERY PISSED ABOUT that she comes right back in the next episode to make a broadcast to every single person sleeping in North America about it. Every. Single. Person. Sleeping in North America has to hear Lady Ethel Mallory pettily respond to dream-hate-mail from a god-thing. It's great it's sooo funny, and even after she finds out that he might be a god-thing SHE DOESN'T STOP! SHE KEEPS INSULTING AND THREATENING THIS DUDE IN EVERYONE'S DREAMS. I love her so much, and every time I go through her tag I giggle because half of the content there is people talking about how much they hate her for snarking at Nikignik again while they're trying to listen to their favorite queer characters confess their love for eachother.
(NOTE AFTER I FINISHED THIS: I found an even better summary/pitch to listen to it! I'm reblogging it right after this is posted so you can read a really good review of the podcast. And? IT'S SPOILER-FREE!)
#m asks#I'D TAG THE PODCAST BUT UHHHHHH THEN THEY'D ALL SEE THIS SO#but it's very fun and cool and i love this podcast a lot#I have to get through some more of season 2 before I'm confident enough that I understand what in the world LEM is on about. BUT THEN!!#Her. LL. One room. two swords. IT'LL BE PERFECT
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I posted 18,713 times in 2022
203 posts created (1%)
18,510 posts reblogged (99%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@rise-of-the-zombicorns
@chinchillasinunison
@harperhug
@aryashi
@j-mart
I tagged 1,040 of my posts in 2022
#og - 198 posts
#tma - 188 posts
#insert clever queue tag here - 128 posts
#kaleigh listens to tma - 36 posts
#blorbo from my campaigns - 33 posts
#tma spoilers - 29 posts
#dndads - 24 posts
#ardreth - 9 posts
#rieta - 8 posts
#jarchivist - 5 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#but the closest they can approximate is spiral and jon is just like 'aw hell no spiral avatar you ain't gettin me to no secondary location!
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
normal: screaming, crying, psychologically and spiritually and emotionally connecting with an eldritch monstrosity
grant: stealing the sun while everyone's distracted, probably
142 notes - Posted November 29, 2022
#4
AITA for wanting a promotion?
My boyfriend (32M) and I (34M) had a bit of a tiff about our situation at work. My boss (245M) recently got a promotion, but I don't think he's handling the job well and I know I'd be better suited for the position. I have a lot of great ideas about how to change things around here, and think I could make the most good of the current situation if I had this job. (Also, my boss wouldn't even be where he is now without all of my hard work)
My boyfriend is worried because he thinks I'm enthralled by the promise of power and "trying to be the ultimate judge of everything". He also made some mean remarks about how I acted in recent confrontations with former business rivals. I think this is unfair because a) he was very supportive of me smiting them at the time, and b) he knows the slow, inevitable loss of my humanity is something I'm sensitive about.
We had a fight and then he ran off with a spider lady. AITA here? And WIBTA if I went for the promotion anyways without telling him? Yeah, he might be mad at me but I think it would be better for everyone in the long run.
EDIT: Listen, I know everyone is trapped in their own personal hellscape of fear, but if literally anyone could get on reddit and offer some advice about this I'd really appreciate it.
EDIT 2: Everyone weighing in from the Lonely domains telling me to dump my boyfriend can fuck off.
EDIT 3: Does anyone know where I can find a rowboat?
184 notes - Posted March 22, 2022
#3
the fact that sparrow voluntarily helped lark with the switcheroo
the fact that sparrow voluntarily helped lark with the switcheroo that could very, very feasibly have ended in lark's death
the fact that they clearly planned this in advance and agreed on it
the fact that sparrow was fully committed to going through with it, even to the point of getting physically violent with henry, to give lark the chance to potentially sacrifice his fucking life
the fact that despite all the ambiguity in sparrow's outburst about what was actually coming from him and what was projection/just trying to sound like his brother, the only thing we can be absolutely sure of is that when he said
"if someone's gonna die for it, it's gonna be me"
what he meant was
"if someone's gonna die for it, i am willing to let it be lark"
...this fucking family is gonna be the death of me
323 notes - Posted December 2, 2022
#2
four teens from the forgotten realms flung into our world on a quest to rescue their lost dads
500 notes - Posted July 12, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
2,643 notes - Posted November 6, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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I posted 1,579 times in 2022
That's 1,570 more posts than 2021!
87 posts created (6%)
1,492 posts reblogged (94%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@8ball-wizard
@skulkie
@warriorsofficial
@greywizard-reporter-jim
@gavamont
I tagged 288 of my posts in 2022
#wizardposting - 117 posts
#wizard council - 63 posts
#wizard - 60 posts
#wizard shit - 23 posts
#skeleton war - 17 posts
#not my art - 13 posts
#art - 11 posts
#my art - 11 posts
#my ocs - 8 posts
#my oc world - 8 posts
Longest Tag: 106 characters
#mel and shandzii and pada i love all your oc stuff thank you for getting me more invested in my own ocs :)
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
i hope your precious wizard council burns to the ground. fucking skelenerd sympathiser.
Who said I like the wizard council, I most certainly do not.
Who said I'm a skeleton sympathiser? I'm pissed at them for starting the war!
58 notes - Posted November 16, 2022
#4
Okay so sea shanties are cool n all
but
we're nearing the space age
SPACE SHANTIES
if this is an actual thing please ruthlessly spam the reblogs of this with links.
65 notes - Posted October 23, 2022
#3
Given the current controversy of the Hexfruit case, I would like to pledge my support towards Hexfruit and the local caster councils that are suppressed by the multiversal ones. While some regulations make sense, the ones on lichdom are downright unfair. As for spells like Greater Baja Blast, Supreme Baja Blast, and Ketamine Ape, my local wizard/artificer council has ruled that they are rather harmless compared to the kind of things we need to deal with on a regular basis. Trust me, a Ketamine Ape is pathetic once you've had to fight of your third thousand-foot tall godly monster this year.
All in all, the wizard council should impose their rules on a dimension-by-dimension basis, not impose their rules where they have been specifically asked to fuck off, and ESPECIALLY not impose their rules in a place between multiverses that would not fall under their jurisdiction even under normal circumstances. I do respect how these councils want to ward against intermultiversal collapse, but this is too far.
Seriously, if you bastards come back literally all of the gods will smite you. I'll hit your frail asses with my pickaxe-axe-welding torch-hammer-wrench-sword multitool.
Feyosha is fine tho obv they're just keeping workplace safety.
[To clarify, I am refering to both thewizardcouncil and wizardscouncil]
74 notes - Posted October 4, 2022
#2
Hey guys what spells should I learn
I want to be a spellsmith (local slang for artificer) and I was wondering what spells I should learn to enchant the things I make.
76 notes - Posted September 28, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Hey so I'm gonna make a Wizard Tumblr Wizard Council animation
not sure what it's gonna entail but I'll figure it out.
77 notes - Posted October 22, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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Raku Plays Her Faves, FFX Edition: Update
Followup to this post. Getting very close to the end of the game now folks, and I’ll probably wrap it up soon because I’m getting antsy about trying the sequel, which I own now but have never played before. It’s been fun this time around; I’ve already leveled up everyone way past the point I did last time, and have even unlocked abilities on the Sphere Grid that I’ve never tried, with mixed results. Some were absolutely worth the trouble (Full-Life, Copycat), others not so much (Nab Gil). Anyway, some quick updates for the things I went over in the previous post:
- Every character now has their fully unlocked Celestial weapon. Wakka especially has been tearing shit UP, but pretty much everyone can take out even the toughest regular enemies in just a hit or two.
- Especially those damned Great Malboros.
- In addition to the ultimate weapons, I’ve been bribing certain monsters with money to get their item drops, which can then be used to customize some pretty kickass armor. It takes a lot of currency, but by this point I’ve got a lot of it, and there’s not much else left to spend it on anyway. Turns out, making that armor is pretty crucial if you want to take on the optional superbosses. And speaking of which...
- After smiting Dark Valefor for the crimes of being an uber-powerful jerk and getting in the way of my errand-running, I’ve been slowly working my way through the Dark Aeon hitlist. So far I’ve defeated Dark Ifrit, Ixion, and Shiva. The main thing that’s annoying about these battles is that every time a character attacks, the boss counterattacks with enough power to instantly KO that character. So what you have to do is automate the process of reviving your characters; otherwise, you’re constantly wasting turns just trying to keep your party alive, never mind getting any damage in. Fortunately, you can do this: remember that kickass armor I mentioned in the last point? That’s basically what it does. Bless you, Auto-Phoenix. And thank you, for not being that awful to obtain, which is more than I can say for some other auto-abilities.
- A special note about the battle against Dark Shiva: it was the very first time I got to see Zanmato in action. If you’re not familiar, Zanmato is the strongest attack of the aeon Yojimbo, and it can instantly kill anything - including bosses, which are normally immune from that kind of bullshit. That’s the short version - apparently there’s an insane list of factors that determine if he’ll even use it. In the past I’d never bothered because Yojimbo’s more or less a money sink. You can’t directly control his actions or teach him any skills like you can the other aeons; he basically does what he wants depending on how much you pay him, how well he and Yuna get along, etc etc see link above. And I’d never had enough spare cash on hand for it to be worth the trouble.
Even during this current playthrough, I hadn’t used Yojimbo much. I’d basically summoned him in this particular battle just to take Dark Shiva’s overdrive attack, which was coming up on the next turn, so that I could keep my party alive. But since the game gave me the chance, and I actually had a good deal of spare change for once, I said, “Fuck it, why not” and handed over what was probably far too much gil, just to see what that amount would do. It got Yojimbo’s fucking attention, is what it did. And credit where due, he delivered. Just like that, the battle was over, and the party got run out of town by the same enraged Guado mooks that chased them off the last time. They may have been a serious threat then, but now, with every character stat boosted and equipped with their best weapons, those guards weren’t shit.
- The slug boss that gave me absolute fits last time? Finally defeated it! (Take that, you smug old bastard, hahahahaha) (Actually, once you’ve caught 10 of everything in the game he’s surprisingly chill, says something like “I knew I picked the right people, I’m a good judge of character” Sure, Jan.)
I doubt I’ll bother to unlock Nemesis, which you do by capturing 10 of every fiend in the game AND defeating every single one of the old man’s monster creations - all the area conquests, all the species conquests, and all his original monsters. That’s just...too many bosses. Not that I’ll be abandoning the monster area completely - there are some items I’d like to farm that are either extremely difficult or even impossible to get otherwise.
I’ll probably keep going down the list of Dark Aeons, maybe even unlock Penance, though I imagine from here on out the battles will be even worse. Did I mention we had to face Dark Ixion twice? I don’t mean I tried two times to beat it, I mean I beat it once, then walked a little further down the Thunder Plains and encountered it a second time, which meant I had to battle it all over again. The game makes you do this. Had we not paid Yojimbo to insta-kill her, Dark Shiva would have been a hassle because her attacks instantly remove the Auto-Life status, aka the very fucking thing I need to keep everyone alive in case I mess up my timing. (If everyone in the party dies at the same time - which they will, if caught in an aeon’s Overdrive attack - having Auto-Phoenix on their armor won’t help. That’s where the Auto-Life spell backup is necessary). I can only imagine what bullshit they’ve concocted for the rest of the Dark Aeon fights.
I don’t know if I’ll have the patience or time to farm all the items needed to do it, but I’d also like to make two sets of armor for each character. One set, I’ve talked a little about already; it automates some functions like healing, reviving characters, casting protective spells, and so on. It’s the serious set, the Phoenix set, that I’ll be bringing to each Dark Aeon fight so my party can stay alive long enough to actually do some damage. The second set, I may not make for each character, depending on how much trouble the required items are to farm. But very quickly I’d like to mention that every character is naturally capped by the game at 9999 HP and 999 MP - even if your characters’ totals should be higher than that, due to extensive use of the Sphere Grid, those numbers are where they’ll stop.
Unless...they’re wearing armor with the Break HP Limit feature, which increases the limit from 9999 to 99,999. (And yes, there is a corresponding Break MP Limit, but honestly 999 MP is more than enough, so it’s really not necessary.) So yes, I’d like to try making it (or winning it, there’s a rare chance it drops from some bosses) just because I can. It absolutely isn’t required to finish the game - I didn’t have any the first time I beat it - and in some people’s opinion, it just shouldn’t be bothered with at all. And I can see why - if an enemy can hit for 9999 damage, chances are it can hit for much higher than that, so a few thousand more HP isn’t going to make any difference.
But hell, I just want to see it because big HP numbers are cool. And, well, it’s another thing I’ve never done before. Of course, there’s always the possibility that’ll I’ll realize, as I’m trying to find an elusive monster to bribe items from for the umpteenth time, that past me had the right idea after all and just go straight to the final battles. But I won’t know unless I try, and that’s kind of what I’m doing across all my video games this year - trying new games, and trying new things in games I’m familiar with.
#raku plays her faves#I actually did get a sneak peek at upcoming dark aeon bs#and boy howdy#I thought having to defeat dark ixion *twice* was bad#there's an upcoming dark aeon battle where you have to win not once#not twice#not three times#but FIVE FUCKING TIMES#FFX I WAS JOKING ABOUT THE BULLSHIT#YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO PROVE ME RIGHT#but there is a silver lining even to that#leave it to the internet to find a way to take advantage of this bs situation
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death note good ending: L and Misa dump Light and travel around the world touring ice-creameries together
#also light can't do any more murders bc if he does the combined powers of genius and e-girl will smite him so hard his hair will fall off#matsuda is an avid follower of the ice cream travel blog but otherwise gets to go out and make decent normal friends#aizawa gets to have a fucking break and a rest for once in his life#i don't remember any of the other characters except Naomi so you know what? naomi is alive again#yes misa is the genius yes L is the e-girl obv#death note#death note ❤
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I have an idea for a quirk idea.
*Ahem*
Quirk: Tiamat.
Like the Primodials Goddess you can create life itself, whatever you want. An army of monsters including, Dragons, smaller dragons, Minatours and so much more. Or inorganic things as well, there are barely any restrictions.
You can also create chaotic energy, bending reality to your will, being able to summon celestial energy as well, for the heavens are under your control.
Like the Tiamat herself you also look draconic, wings, claws and Sharp teeth with many other Features( you can just look at Tiamat from smite and you pretty much look like a somewhat humanoid version)
And the of course you can Manapulate and create salt water, for Tiamat is the Primodial goddess of the salt sea and chaos.
Due to your quirk you are also more durible and stronger than a normal human.
And to really sell the point of divinity, if you use celestial energy you get a halo behind you head.
Drawbacks: the more you use your quirk with out breaks, you will get fatigue, it can take a while until you can use your other abilities again, but you will recover quickly.
Is this op? Yes but we have characters like fucking deku with Protagonist powers and All for one. So let us be op too
Uhhh, yeah let's go with 1a ( Platonic)
class 1a with a fucking god as a classmate
pairing: platonic!class 1a x gn!reader (they/them)
genre: fluff, lotsa angst
warnings: angst 😭 (depression, isolation)
author's notes: HENXN DAMN I FINALLY MADE IT TO YOUR REQUEST YAY,, im also very sorry this isn't my best stuff. ive rewritten it...a lot. in the future I'll probably come back and rewrite again for you!!!
Also!! ik the point was for it to be op, but i decided to strip back a little. ik deku, todo, and baku have super strong quirks, but there are ultimately drawbacks to kinda balance it out and i felt it'd be easier to work a reader in w that balance
so tiamat!: user has ability to bring mythical creatures to life using a balance of chaotic and divine energy. upon activating this quirk, the energy also creates a pair of temporary wings, halo and claws for the user. after 30 minutes, the user becomes incredibly dizzy and needs to rest their quirk for two minutes. they should recover after 2 minutes with only light dizziness and be able to use their quirk for another 30. not resting may result in loss of consciousness.
sorry if there are too many changes plz lemme know if you'd like a rewrite!!
(this pic probably part of the movie, huh? 😐 im too broke, I haven't watched it but once i get a job,, that's my first expense let's get the bill,, purr-)
SO. first off, since there's no real limit on the mythical creatures you can "manifest", you're pretty much one of the most powerful students from the get go. you get in on recommendations, are already coming from a very high class private school for extremely skilled children (tuition paid by the school itself)
your parents are pros, too, so you're well known not only in your class, but amongst the staff and rest of the school, too.
in the class, though, you never acted like you were above the rest. sure, you weren't exactly the most sociable, but you were polite and there to work as hard as the rest of them. it was an extra advantage, because you were at least cooperative unlike bakugou and understood the need to be flexible unlike todoroki.
it toom them time to learn this, but you seemed to have it all the necessary points of a great hero in your palm.
to some people, like tenya iida, this was absolutely admirable. perfect, meant to be idolized and rewarded with success.
to others, like bakugou, this was a threat. another competitor, another reason to push harder than before, even if it broke him.
to aizawa, though, this... well, it was scary. was it nice to have such a well prepared student? of course. was it good to have such a dedicated student? why wouldn't it be?
well, what was left to teach other than the skills themselves? and what did this mean for villains? were they improving at the same rate, building their whole lives around improving their craft to the point where what would take a lifetime for one person to learn will take their children a few years of childhood?
this is where his calculations were a bit off, though.
it didn't take "a few years of childhood". to be as good as you were, as strong and capable and wise, it took it all.
so were you passing every test with flying colors? improving at rates almost breaking records? practically drilling into everyone's heads that you should probably already be in the field?
yes.
but you weren't interacting with your classmates otherwise. your room and the training rooms were all you knew outside of class. every imvitation to any outing was declined. you hardly ever smiled or relaxed, and when you did it was for undercover practice.
you were alone and lonely. the only people you voluntarily spoke to were your teachers whenever you wanted extra tutoring or work and your parents to update them on your progress. you were a machine.
"robocop."
you didn't like the name katsuki bakugou had lent to you, but you felt that you couldn't exactly be mad. and to be honest, it wasn't too bad, right?
but you can only be robotic for so long. eventually the feelings start to set in, especially in that stunning incredible beautiful part of your life called puberty.
"they never smile..."
"even thirteen is more emotive."
"sensei aizawa has more enthusiasm."
"maybe we shouldn't even bother them with the invite."
it wasn't that they were trying to be mean and you knew that. most of it came from worry, or sometimes them being genuinely convinced you were some sort of robot. they were going to be curious and that was... okay. for a while.
it was fine. they stopped inviting you out so much, just nodded to you in passing, and spoke with you as they usually did when paired up for classes or lessons.
but over time? they stopped inviting you altogether, didn't acknowledge you in the hall, and took on overly-professional tones whenever you talked...at all.
this is what you'd wanted, though, right? just focus on the work, on the quirk, on the career path. that's it. that's all you needed.
oh fuck. you were wrong.
powerful, yes, but you started losing the passion. you didn't lose against anyone, but you weren't as vigilant in keeping it clean and quick. sometimes they took a lot more time, and sometimes your energy wasn't enough to keep a large mythical creature like a Bahamut up for two minutes.
people took notice, especially sensei aizawa. still, most people just took it as a small bump in your intense progress.
yeah, you got some looks of pity and some small comments here and there, but... you'd be fine!
"c'mon, terminator, stop playing shy. it's weird."
"[Your last name], you missed an attack. is everything alright in the plan?" (iida)
"you look tired. maybe you should let us take over, ribbit."
it was ok. you were ok. yeah. okay. yeah! of course! you were the almighty tiamat! you'd be fine!
yeah.
yeah...
and then...
"did... did sato and sero just beat iida and [your last name?" (midoriya)
it was... quiet amongst the class. even aizawa, who's rarely taken aback by anything, seemed at a loss for words or any sort of reaction.
but sure enough, there you were, tied to one side of a pole in tape with iida opposite of you, sato and sero reveling in the victory.
your head was down. this wasn't... you. you didn't lose, not that easily, and you definitely weren't captured by surprise. and you definitely did not just mess up the entire precise plan your partner and you constructed with an almost 0% margin for error.
no. no way.
when it set in and aizawa called the win for the next team is when a wave of...relief hit.
relief that you'd lost, relief that you messed up clear as day, messed up soemething so easy to perfect, and relief that nobody was hurting you for it. you closed your eyes and your body released this surge of energy, not strong enough to hurt anyone, but instead slowing into slow waves that slowly tampered off.
everything was put on pause, aizawa trying to make eye contact to cancel out your quirk before realizing all was well and you were... smiling.
you were smiling, teary eyed and genuine, with not one ounce of tension in your usually stiff shoulders.
it was quite the situation, really, and left most of the class rather...weirded out. but after a conversation with the school counselor and sensei aizawa followed by some serioud self reflection, everything started shifting.
you started talking. not a lot, obviously. it was going to take some time, but you'd say hello, ask how people were, laugh. then you said yes to an invitation to ice cream. and then told a joke! a real joke. granted it wasn't the funniest, and the delivery was awkward at its height, but the fact that YOU told it had your class rolling.
and better yet, this improved your performance! you were still improving, but at a human pace, and you had the chance to sct your age a little.
no, it wasn't perfect. this was new. this was going to take some time. but thay was okay, because you had your class with you, and they thought you were pretty fantastic.
and you had limits. and that was wonderful.
#x male reader#xmale!readerblog#x gender neutral reader#nonbinary#x nonbinary reader#my hero headcanons#my hero academia#mha#mha quirks#mha x reader#mha bakugou#mha x you#read with me lovelies
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Monday of Appreciation: Part 25
Hello everyone, Smite here!
25 is actually my favorite number, so I have 25 fics for you today I have chosen 5 great fics by great writers, who I just want some people to notice and click on it. That’s not that hard, right? ;)
Update: Impossible Taming has 500 Notes! Thank you! Also: fic tomorrow, as well as later this week. Stay tuned!
Here are this weeks stories:
1. @ggidolsmuts: Knock Knock ft. Yunkyoung & Yeonhee (Rocket Punch)
While I include this, ddeun has already released another great fic about a not so well known group... absolute legend! Firstly, I’ll mention this masterpiece of pure hotness and luring out your co-member to sleep with your bf... naughty, naughty :)
2. @ifeelsounsure0: Finding Love Part 4 ft. So Hee
Hey, Unsure! You’re fucking awesome, just so you know that! Your writing is really good, and I enjoyed this piece. I love how you make this characters feel so alive, while mixing normal, everyday stuff in. Love you <3
3. @agentpicard: The Alluring Criminal ft. Hyewon
Hyewon. That outfit. Gangbang. Moral questions. LFG!
4. @usedpidemo: I heard you’re married ft. Wendy
The build up makes this piece absolutely fantastic for me. It took me on a ride, and I got to experience just how great Pi is at writing stuff like this. Smut was great as well, I can see myself returning to this. Fantastic job!
5. @yieldtotemptation: LEASH ft. Eunbi
I call for the arrest of Gray, because ejubsoguhvbfug<uh that was way to fucking hot to be allowed. No way this is obeys any laws, ahhhh! Fuck, it was so good. Subby Eunbi Gang, rise up!
That’s it for today! Have a great day and week! (Love you, Levi :))
#kpop smut#mondayofappreciation#izone smut#eunbi smut#hyewon smut#red velvet smut#wendy smut#female idol smut#so hee smut#rocket punch smut#yunkyoung smut#yeonhee smut#male reader
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Hello! Can we get a little something for the hermit canyon AU? I was thinking something Karl centered, maybe they accidentally find his library or otherwise find out about his "travels". They're probably invisible for the whole thing, but do they do anything afterwards? Do they leave little notes and reminders? Would they try to help at all? Or would they push it to the back of their minds and try to forget about it?
Unlike most discoveries made by Hermits, Joe does not find a secret location on a normal surface run. When Etho found the Pogtopia ravine, it was a mystery to him, unsettling and vivid. When Grian found Technoblade's snowy cabin, it was on complete accident, just because Grian needed to explore, to get out of the canyon for a few hours.
When Joe exits the canyon, as he rarely does, he makes a beeline for Karl's library. Time is... not something Joe concerns himself with, but he prefers to constrict himself to the linear travel of the fourth dimension nowadays-- if such a thing as "nowadays" can be said to exist when tangling with time.
Where was he? Ah, yes. He moves quickly, because he dislikes spending more time away from Xisuma's side than absolutely necessary, even if the admin has been having a run of good health days and there are twenty-two other Hermits to attend to the admin in an emergency. He doesn't bother with invisibility, or walking, or other mundane things. Joe simply hovers in the air, flying toward his destination and perhaps fiddling with the tick speed just a little, just enough to get him there faster.
There's a residual feeling of familiarity, like a relationship with an ex-girlfriend which has long since turned sour, near the canyon. There's a whisper there of magic, of gleaming white spires, but all Joe can see is red.
"It's a shame, what they did to this library," Joe mutters with a tsk. Posters of hazy LSD-esque drawings of various time periods and locations line the walls, molding away as red vines climb on them, devour them.
He shrugs. Might as well move on; nothing of value remains here.
To the south is a place Etho has visited only briefly and in passing: Kinoko Kingdom. It's a hotspot of activity at times, and a ghost town at others. Etho didn't even know the name of the place until Puffy reported it. Joe doesn't care. For all that Etho likes to present himself as a cryptid, scaring poor innocent wood-dwelling folk who are just looking for a big fuzzy triclopean spouse, Joe is the one with experience as a cryptid. Let them see him. What are they going to say, "I saw Herobrine"?
He touches down, finally, in front of another library made from mushrooms and wood. Allowing his eyes to flash white for a moment so that he can ferret out the building's secret room, he is both disappointed and unsurprised to see it empty of life. Karl Jacobs, resident time traveller, is not there.
Joe closes his eyes. He doesn't want to have to do this. For decades, there was a place he called home, a place he built from the ground up. It was a place in between life and death, and so he called it the Inbetween.
He opens his eyes, and he is there. It's like walking down a street you've been down a hundred thousand times before; even with your eyes closed, you know where you're going. There are no longer dozens of imperfect copies of himself running around, brainless and waiting to be culled like lambs to the slaughter in order to fuel an affront against nature. Now, there are many iterations of Karl, all wandering aimlessly... save one.
The only version of Karl wearing color stands in an open-air corridor near the courtyard. Even from a distance, Joe can see his chest rise and fall far too rapidly for him to actually be getting any air. (Joe sees everything here, where his eyes are white and cannot be anything but white.)
"Why am I here?" Karl babbles to himself. "I haven't time-travelled-- or did I already forget?"
"You didn't forget," Joe reassures him. It does not have the intended effect.
Karl screams, turning around so quickly that he falls on his ass. He scoots away like a crab missing a leg, scrambling for some distance. "Your eyes--!"
"Come closer," Joe says. "I won't hurt you."
"You're Herobrine!"
Joe exhales slowly. "I was Herobrine. What I am is the only person who can help you."
Karl warily clambers to his feet. None of the other Karls dressed in white pay the two men any mind. "What do you mean?"
"You've got yourself stuck in a dimensional loop of Homestuck proportions, Karl," Joe says. "So did I, when I built this place. It took me decades to figure out how to get out of it, and I knew what I was doing. You don't have that."
"Am I stuck here forever, then?" Karl says mournfully. He waves a hand at the carefree automatons wearing his face. "Will I become one of them?"
Joe takes a few slow steps closer, keeping his hands where the stressed-out time traveller can see them. "I'll take care of things on this end. You won't ever have to come back here again."
Karl sags in relief like a marionette with its strings cut.
"Does the name Eret mean anything to you?" Joe asks. It's a name he's heard from Puffy's lips once or twice, and if her information holds true, things could get much easier.
Karl blinks. "Uh... Yeah? What about them?"
Joe continues. "Dark hair, tall, white eyes like mine?"
"I've never seen Eret without their sunglasses, but I guess, yeah," Karl replies. Of all the things he would have expected Herobrine to ask about, Eret isn't one of them.
"Imagine what Eret looks like," Joe suggests. "Think real hard about them. Imagine them here, in the Inbetween, right in front of us."
Karl has no idea why Herobrine wants him to daydream about Eret (even if their voice is very nice), but if the man is pulling his leg, well-- it's fucking Herobrine, he can do what he wants.
Speaking of that nice voice, Karl hears the voice in question scream out of nowhere. Karl flinches away from the sudden loud noise, before his eyes catch up to his brain and he realizes that he just magicked Eret into existence in the Inbetween.
"What the fuck," Eret says. "H-Herobrine, uh, long time no s-see..?"
"Sorry about that time I kinda tortured you," Herobrine says brightly. "I'm nicer now."
"I doubt--" Eret begins caustically, then remembers exactly who they're talking to and shuts their mouth. "...Why is everything so dark?"
"Take off your sunglasses," Herobrine suggests.
Eret grimaces, but obeys. This place is practically humming with magic, so they just know they're going to get blinded by it the moment they remove their glasses, but they remember what happened last time they pissed Herobrine off.
Wincing, they remove the sunglasses, expecting pain and receiving... nothing. The glint of light on quartz is a bit uncomfortable, but that's a normal human uncomfortable that Eret hasn't experienced since they were a teenager.
Herobrine smacks them on the forehead with his palm. "I take back what I said about 'living with this power for the rest of your life', and all that," he says. "You can turn 'em off now. I'd recommend not turning those eyes back on, though-- at least, not here. It's a little bright, magic-wise."
Eret gapes. All these years, they feared the day they'd meet this powerful man again, imagined what they'd say as they cursed his name or begged his forgiveness... and here he is, giving them exactly what they desperately hoped for but knew they'd never receive simply because he's 'nicer now'.
"Herobrine," Eret says, "why have you done this?"
"Call me Joe," Herobrine says.
Karl interjects, "Joe mama," under his breath. It is with the utmost shock on Eret's behalf that Karl does not in fact get immediately smited into oblivion, merely smacked on the forehead.
"Now you won't forget," Herobrine-- Joe says. "Anyway, I have shenanigans to be up to back in the canyon, so I'll send y'all back now. Those red vines are bad news, and so is their egg, so y'all better take care of that, please. It's really messing your server up."
Karl blanches. "The canyon?"
"Oh, look at the time. Have fun, be safe, bye," Joe says with affected mild disinterest.
Both Karl and Eret have so much to say, so many questions to ask, but they fade away before they get the chance.
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22. for reds 🤡
This is 100% not what you asked for (yet...👀), but I give you part 1 of what we're calling the Weird King AU. I'm turning this into a proper multi-chapter High School fic because I love you and I'd jump on any bandwagon for you.
xxx
Like most young, conventionally attractive Supervillains, Brick had made a bit of a habit of failing upwards. It was pretty easy in a town full of simpering morons content to project their own narrative assumptions onto him, and who was he to crush their dreams when they made his life a little easier?
For example, dating.
“You can tell me, you know.” His cute date, Tracy, sipped her milkshake across from him.
“Tell you what?”
She softened and reached her hand across the table. “Your tragic backstory. I’ll listen without judgment, I promise.”
Brick tried to think of something tragic, but it all seemed pretty underwhelming as far as Supervillain origin stories went. “You mean like how I was born in a toilet?”
She made an oh shape with her lips. “We all have those days where we feel like we were born in a toilet, Brick.”
He’d dated Tracy for three months before she broke up with him out of the blue in tears: sorry she couldn’t fix his baggage, she just wasn’t strong enough to handle all that tortured darkness, but she wished him nothing but health and happiness. Brick deleted her number from his phone and spent twenty whole minutes staring at the toilet in his bathroom, wondering what the lesson here was.
But everything changed when Mojo got out of prison and moved Brick and his brothers back to Townsville, where he enrolled them in the local high school alongside their former arch nemeses, the Powerpuff Girls.
Suddenly, everything Brick did pre-supposed ill intent. These people remembered him as the pest who had graffitied their local monuments and blown up their cars and endangered their children. They held no love for him, and at best they feared him. This was not Citiesville, where he’d been a tall, cold glass of Voss water in a sea of recycled Dasani.
He found himself thinking about his birthing toilet again as he stepped into the cafeteria alone and the conversation quieted down as his new classmates watched him from the safety of their tables. His next moves here were critical. He was no longer at the top of the food chain, but fear and mystery surrounding his origins and character gave him a certain power over his peers.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of social suicide, I will fear no cringe,” he said to himself.
The jocks were out. Capable though he may be, Brick was not much of a team player unless there was a blood contract involved requiring his participation on pain of satanic torture. The drama kids were also a hard pass, not because he thought drama was lame, but because they had barely noticed him walk in, and Brick did not have the energy to deal with people more self-involved than himself. Some of the unaffiliated tables could be safe, but without a good understanding of the nuanced social dynamics in the high school, he could be heading toward irreversible doom, and that was a risk he was not willing to take.
He saw his salvation just ahead. It was the only option, all else being equal. In an environment where he couldn’t be certain of his baseline status and potential for upward mobility, there was greatness to be had only by association and certainty only in the devil he knew.
Brick helped himself to the empty seat directly across from Blossom Utonium to a chorus of gasps and staring.
Blossom did not startle like her table mates had. She watched him critically behind a head full of bangs as she balanced her soup spoon in her hand. “Really.”
Brick unwrapped the burrito he’d purchased in the lunch line and brandished it before him. “Really.”
He took a bite of the burrito. It was not hot enough. The two girls to Blossom’s left whispered to each other about that bad boy and he’s hot, though.
Blossom daintily spooned soup into her mouth without spilling a single drop as she continued to watch Brick for signs of his imminent dark side transformation.
The guy next to Brick was brave enough to ask him what his next class was. Brick had a mouth full of disappointing burrito, so he passed the guy the printout of his class schedule in lieu of answering.
“Wow, all APs, huh? Hey, we’re in U.S. History together next period, nice. I’m Mike Believe, by the way. Brick Jojo, right?”
Brick didn’t answer him immediately on account of the burrito currently occupying his mouth hole, and Mike took it the wrong way.
“Oh, yeah, we all know who you are. Blossom sort of filled us in.” He winced like he’d inadvertently revealed a terrible secret.
Brick swallowed his food and washed it down with a gulp of water. “Saves me some time.”
Mike looked super relieved. “For sure! Hey, I could lend you my notes if you want to catch up. Gershwin’s giving a quiz on the Progressive Era on Friday, and she’s a hard-ass who definitely won’t care that you just transferred…”
Brick chewed on his lunch as Mike continued to talk at him about classes and other vaguely helpful, albeit uninteresting, information. But Mike seemed normal enough, a little chatty but not in an overeager sort of way. Blossom was no longer clocking his every move and seemed to be absorbed in her friend’s latest swim team cheating scandal, until Brick reached for his water bottle and she suddenly laser-focused on his wandering hand.
Her keen attention to him was honestly flattering, if expected. It was in his nature to be noticed, and in this narrow respect she was no different from anyone else whose head he turned. If she chose to feed her interest with the flames of suspicion, then it was no difference to him.
But if she was anything like him—and on a chemical level she was probably the closest to him that a person could get—he suspected it took tremendous effort to hold her full and sustained attention. The world they inhabited was as vapid and mundane as the humans that surrounded them, and even the most gracious of gods grew bored of worship. Which explained all the smiting and fucking and generational curses upon entire households in everything from Greek mythology to the Old Testament.
Brick was pretty deep into a fantasy of Blossom going full Ixion and the Wheel on the swim team when Mike tapped his shoulder. “You ready to go?”
It took him a moment to realize the bell had rung and he had a class to get to—AP U.S. History with Mike, apparently. Brick gathered his tray and his bag and followed Mike. When he looked back at the table, Blossom was already gone.
xxx
That whole first week was painfully boring. No one bullied him, or pranked him, or picked a fight with him, of course. But no one really approached him, either. His brothers were more determined to make an effort. Boomer announced he was trying out for the soccer team because there was no rule saying a Super with extremely well documented ties to active criminals and the forces of Hell couldn’t kick a ball around a field. Butch had gotten himself invited to a midnight screening of Snakes on a Plane in some rich kid’s home movie theater, but only after that same kid had accidentally spilled milk on Butch and burst into tears in front of a cafeteria full of Juniors and Seniors. Brick declined the invitation Butch extended to him. He had that AP U.S. History exam to study for on Friday, anyway.
He shared all of his classes with Blossom. Even in the classes where her assigned seat was behind his and he couldn’t see her, he could feel her lobotomizing stare at the back of his head whenever she glanced up from her notebook. And while Mike’s notes were perfectly adequate and the friendly gesture counted for more than the content (a gesture Brick would not soon forget), there was a far more efficient way to accomplish his goal of murdering the class averages while also taking the edge off his loner doldrums.
“Can I borrow your class notes?”
Blossom rose from her seat and pulled her hair tie out to re-do her extremely long ponytail. She held the elastic between her teeth as she worked. Her teeth were very straight, he noticed. Some pretty nice girl-teeth, generally speaking.
“Which class?”
“All of them.”
He watched her wind the elastic around her hair with quick, adroit fingers. “That’s a lot of notes.”
“You’re the top of every class. No point in asking anyone else.”
She moved toward the hall. He followed her out. “Why would I help you?”
A legitimate question delivered without venom. Unlike her sister Buttercup, who’d “run into” Brick after school on Monday and told him to watch his back, Blossom didn’t have to do anything but maintain a general proximity to make her superiority complex known. Which was the kind of flex he could fuck with.
“Isn’t helping people sort of your mandate?”
They had arrived at her locker, which she opened with enough force to rattle the hinges. “I help the helpless. Are you helpless, Brick?”
Brick smiled at her baiting. Had she ever actually said his name at a normal volume before? It sounded good even in her baseline bitch timbre. “Critically helpless. I’m the new student who transferred in the middle of the semester, and you’re the only person who knows me.”
A couple other students clearly trying to get to the lockers Brick was blocking hovered just out of reach. They whispered to each other, but neither of them actually worked up the courage to ask Brick to move. He ignored them.
Blossom rummaged in her locker for the binder she would need for the next class. “Make friends.”
“Working on it.”
The locker door slammed and she faced him. There was something confrontational in the way she held herself before him that kicked him in the nuts back in time thirteen years to their more uncouth days when all he wanted to do was destroy her so he’d be the only one. Now they were older and wiser and he actually did need her notes to study, so destroying her was not high on his list of priorities.
“You want to be my friend.”
“We have so much in common.”
“So do lions and hyenas.”
“Both are apex predators, so.”
She took a step closer and peered up at him. Brick did not move, although he wondered what was so interesting about his face. She probably just thought he was hot. She was probably as bored as he was. She probably—
“You have lettuce in your teeth.”
Brick pulled back and covered his mouth on instinct. God fucking damnit.
Blossom was already walking away from him by the time he’d picked the food from his teeth. “I’ll expect my notes back in mint condition before first period tomorrow morning.”
Brick pressed a fist against the lockers and quietly fumed. “Dumbass…”
“Um, sorry, but do you mind…?”
The student who’d been waiting for her locker space to clear up had her palms up as if to assuage a feral stray. Brick pushed off the lockers, but his fist left a dent where he’d unleashed some of his impotent self-pity. He looked back at the girl, and she shook her head.
“It’s fine! It, uh, it happens sometimes.” She pointed a couple lockers down to Blossom’s, which was dinged up worse than the others.
Brick stared at Blossom’s locker, and then back at the girl. Her narrow, dark eyes were wide, but not out of fear. She was waiting for something, and like an idiot it took him a moment to catch up. “You’re trying to make me feel better about fucking up your locker.”
She laughed nervously. “I mean, it’s really fine! You just looked so miserable for a second there, and I just thought…”
Great, he was moping so hard he had an audience.
The five minute warning bell rang, and a flood of students rushed past them on their way to fourth period. Brick stepped aside so the girl could get to her locker.
“Hey, you’re the new guy, right?”
The new guy, yeah. How quaint. Except, she was waiting for a response, which wasn’t the absolute worst thing that had happened to him all week.
“Brick,” he said. But of course, she already knew that, and she was just being nice.
“I’m Kim. Kim Chan.”
“Okay.” He didn’t have anything else to say to her, so he decided to get his shit and get to his next class.
“Welcome back to Townsville, Brick.”
Brick shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked off. It didn’t occur to him until later that Kim was the first and only person who had properly welcomed him back home.
#powerpuff girls#powerpuff girls fanfic#blossick#ppg reds#ppg blossom#ppg brick#september fic prompts#weird king au#i have no idea what i will call this yet#but it'll make its way to AO3 and it'll be a Thing#i have to think of themes and shit now#i came here to shit post and here we are with another full on Reds fic
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Doll Me Up (P.5)
Title: Doll Me Up (Part Five)
Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge.
Words: 3,059
Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior
Author’s Note: I’m not sure if this is the last part but I’m leaning towards it.
Part Four || Part Six || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
Five and a half months ago…
Tony blinked against the sun as they left the news station. Y/N had facilitated a project, along with others, to bring seniors more fresh produce in their Meals on Wheels local program. She was excited about the project and Tony honestly could not give two shits about it but if it made her happy, he was happy to be there with her. He loved seeing the joyous smile on her face and her enthusiasm talking about it.
His hand was wrapped tightly around her waist as they walked out towards his car. And his smile only faltered when he spotted a familiar face in the crowd across the street. And a face he did not want to be seeing in public like this. And they were staring directly at him, like they had been waiting for him.
Tony turned to Y/N and whispered in her ear, “I need to go to the restroom.”
“We were just inside,” she jested. “Why didn’t you go then?”
“I didn’t have to go then. Here.” He opened the door for her, letting her get in. “I’ll be right back.”
To Happy, he whispered, “Fabian.”
“What do you want me to do?” Happy asked quietly, keeping his sights on Tony and not being obvious.
“Stay here with Y/N. I’ll be right back.”
“Boss—”
“He’s not going to lay a finger on me.” Tony said and Happy looked at him disbelieving. Tony was being overconfident about it and he knew it but he could not accept lowlifes trying to approach him in public like this. “Stay here with her. I’ll be back.”
Tony walked away from the car, moving back down the sidewalk. He spotted Fabian moving through it and he smirked to himself. He walked past the news station doors, and down the immediate alley.
He was waiting when Fabian entered the alley, standing dead center, hands in his pockets. If looks could smite, Fabian would have burned on the spot. “What makes you think you can come up to me in public?”
“You haven’t been returning my calls I’ve been leaving!”
“Yeah and for good reason. You’re unhinged!”
“That wasn’t my—"
Tony stepped closer, spitting, “You listen closely, Fabian, I am done with you and your bullshit! You are done. Do you get that? You had your chance and you fucked up. And I cannot be seen in public with you. You know that though. You squeal to anyone and you won’t just have me after you, you’ll have the whole city gunning for you with how many people are tied to it and you will. not. win. If you ever come up to me in public again – especially when I’m out with my wife – I will kill you on the spot.”
Tony straightened out his jacket before storming away from the man who was staring at him slack jacked. Tony did not give him a moment to respond before he was around him and striding back down the alley.
When he got into the car, Y/N was none the wiser.
She was immediately back into conversation, talking about what good this interview was going to do for the project and thanking him for coming along with her. Tony smiled sweetly, listening intently. His adoration for her wove deeply. He truly had recovered a true gem from the rabble.
<><><>
You stared at the door in bewilderment before touching it again. F.R.I.D.A.Y. repeated, “You are not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”
“Excuse me?” you word vomited.
“Do you need me to repeat the message, Mrs. Stark?”
You hated how calm F.R.I.D.A.Y. sounded.
“Override,” you tried.
“You do not have authorization to do that, Mrs. Stark.”
“Why can’t I go outside?”
“Mr. Stark blocked access at this door.”
You let out a frustrated noise before turning away from the door. You walked to the bedroom door, feeling the ache but you had to know. You walked down the stairs, taking them slowly. You went to the closest patio door, gripping the handle tightly.
“You are not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”
Breathing heavily through your nose, trying to keep yourself calm, you turned your head eyeing the next patio door.
Her voice was becoming quickly annoying. “You’re not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”
You took off around the mansion, trying all the doors leading to the outside but you got the same code when it read your fingerprint. You made your way to the front door, the door to the garage, out to the garden. It was all the same message. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, it sinking in that you were locked inside.
The thought of the kitchen door out to the pool came to you and you moved as quickly as you could there. You stalled seeing Happy standing in there, cutting an apple. He stilled seeing you and you did not miss the sly look he gave you as you moved through the kitchen, past the island where he was standing.
The same goddamn message.
You whipped around and stared at Happy.
“Let me out!” you demanded.
“I can’t override what the boss has inputted into the security system. You know that,” Happy said in passive tone, looking completely indifferent to how worked up you were.
“Where is he?”
“He left earlier.”
“Well, did he happen to mention to you why he was locking me inside?” you exasperated, throwing your hands out at your sides.
Happy sucked at his teeth, leveling you with a serious look. “Y/N, do you really need to be asking me that? Truly?”
You bit your cheeks to avoid shouting at him and forced yourself to turn on your heel and storm out of the room away from him. You made your way back up the stairs, going for your bedroom where your cell was waiting on the bedside table. Snatching it off the table, you pressed Tony’s name.
“Yes, kitten?” he answered calmly.
“Your stupid AI won’t let me out!” you exclaimed.
“Yeah, I programmed that this morning.”
“You…,” you started to argue but then your voice went up a notch, trying to whine. “Daddy, you can’t keep me locked in here!”
“Can’t or shouldn’t? Because it looks like I’m already doing it, so I apparently can,” Tony replied coolly.
“You shouldn’t then!” You added for good measure quickly, “Please!”
Tony’s tone was firm when he told you, “I think I very well should. You crossed a lot of lines and I am not fucking around when I tell you that they were lines that shouldn’t be crossed. You brought this on yourself, Y/N. Maybe if you spent less time throwing tantrums and more time listening to me, you wouldn’t have found yourself here. And hopefully you won’t again. I certainly hope you won’t again. I know you can do better.”
You were quiet, biting back tears. You thought you would be cuddling this morning, everything slowly falling back to normal.
He heard you sniffle and the sound of it elicited a soft sigh from him. “Princess, you can earn my trust back. I’m a reasonable man.”
“I said I was sorry,” you said tearfully.
“Oh, I know you did. And it was heartfelt. And you did so very well last night. I was impressed by you. Truly, baby. But I need to be sure you understand how serious I am that I don’t want you to repeat that. Ever.”
You asked weakly, “When are you coming back?”
“Tonight. I won’t leave you for long. And I’m going to bring you something. But you need to just sit tight. Be good for Happy.”
You did not answer because you were staring out the window, grinding your teeth.
“Princess?”
His voice snapped you back to reality and you got out, “I’ll be good.”
“That’s what I like to hear. By the way, I set up an appointment for you today, last minute. It’s a virtual meeting. Happy knows about it, he’ll help you. OB/GYN. F.R.I.D.A.Y will scan you, the baby, send it to her and she’ll correspond.”
“She’ll correspond with… F.R.I.D.A.Y?” you asked slowly.
“Just this one time. I promise we have a real appointment next week. I’ll be at every one after this and we will do it in person. Cross my heart.”
Your voice was small, “Okay.”
“I’ll see you later. Be good.”
“I will, daddy.”
He hung up and you pulled the phone away from your ear, staring down at it. He was acting weird. He acknowledged what had happened but moved so seamlessly into baby talk and appointments.
How were you going to relax knowing you were stuck in here?
<><><>
Five months ago…
The art show was boring and even more so for the afterpart of it. You had no desire to speak to anyone about it and they were all gathered in the large center room drinking wine and having finger foods. You had excused yourself to go to the bathroom and you removed your underwear, tossing them into the trash bin before leaving to find Tony,
Tony was speaking to someone, sitting on a set of small chairs. The sight of you caught his attention and you put your finger to your lips. He only spared you a second’s confused look before looking back at the man. But his gaze found you again quickly, curiosity getting the better of him. Over the man’s shoulder, hidden from the rest of the room by the large plant, you opened the slit in your dress, showing Tony you were not wearing any underwear. He began to smile and hid it by his hand came to his mouth, it balling into a fist as he stared daggers at you. You gave him a wide, tantalizing grin, beginning to walk backwards towards the doorway to the adjacent hallway.
You left him sitting on the couch, dropping your dress. The hallway was empty, and you walked slowly down it, taking in the art.
It did not take long for you to hear footsteps behind you, and you looked over your shoulder finding a very hot and bothered Tony coming down towards you. He wasted no time pushing you into the corner at the turn in the hall, his hands snaking up your dress. You turned your head, giving a throaty laugh.
“Listen here… if you wanna come, you better look at me,” Tony husked.
“There’s people—”
“You started it.”
You nipped at his nose and he buried his face into your neck in return. He resumed pressing you into the wall, his fingers slipping in to work you up.
<><><>
Three months ago…
People were outside in the pool, drunk in the summer sun. You though, you were inside, sitting against the wall, pouting. Some of your old escort friends had shown up per request for the guests attending and told you they were planning a trip to Vancouver to do some shopping and ‘go out on the town’ in a few weekends. You had been excited about the prospect, you had not been out like that for a long time. When you had left the group though and leaned over Tony’s shoulder at the poker game to tell him about it, he had waved you off.
“You’re not going,” had been his exact words.
Instead of going back to the girls, you had gone inside, not wanting to tell them the bad news. At the inside bar, you had taken a couple of shots and made sure Tony saw you walk by the window. You tossed him a glare as you passed. Him and his stupid open shirt over his dumb swim trunks – that you had specifically picked out earlier this week when you were shopping – could get fucked right now for all you cared.
It was not too long before Tony appeared in front of you, peering down at you, looking ever piqued. He was not happy you were sulking.
“You know, you’re really bringing down my mood, princess. Glaring at me like that because I had the audacity to deny you one thing out of millions.”
“Then stop looking at me,” you retorted, avoiding his eyes, still staring off out towards the pool party.
You heard him scoff and he said, “Don’t even try to throw a tantrum right now.”
“I’m not. I’m just sitting here.”
“Looking like I killed your fucking dog.”
You merely shrugged aggressively in response.
He gestured out towards the patio doors. “You know they’re only going to get in trouble up there. And I don’t want you to get wrapped up in it.”
“So, you don’t trust me to be faithful,” you said finally making eye contact with him.
Tony held up a finger to you and corrected firmly, “That’s not what I said.”
“That’s exactly what you’re saying!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands down beside you on the bench. “You don’t trust me!”
“Don’t try to make this into something that it’s not. I don’t trust them to keep you out of trouble,” Tony retorted. “You know how they are! You were – are – friends with them for fucks sake!” You opened your mouth to argue and he cut you off. “No, I’m done with this conversation. You know what I meant. I’m sorry that you are upset but there’s a reason I’m saying no to it. Now, either shape up and come back outside or go upstairs if you’re going to just glower at me.”
Clenching your jaw, you stood up angrily and stormed off away from him towards the upstairs.
You decided on a whim to leave, grabbing a swim suit cover and throwing some sandals on. Downstairs you ran into one of Tony’s guys and you stopped because of the way he was staring at you. You had wanted to leave without anyone noticing but seemed like that was not going to be the case.
His eyes ran over you, taking you in. “You alright?” he asked curiously, his eyes narrowing.
“Yeah, peachy. Have fun with your dumb poker game,” you spat at him before turning and walking to the front door.
You got into the car, turning it on angrily. You knew you should not be driving but you just did not want to be at home anymore. And Cassandra’s was not too far away, only twenty five minutes or so. You took off down the driveway, actually smirking of the look on his face when F.R.I.D.A.Y informed Tony you had left whenever he decided to check in on you. That should be awhile because he had been on a winning roll.
<><><>
He did not announce himself and you only realized he was home because F.R.I.D.A.Y came over the speaker in the living room informing you, “Dinner is ready in the kitchen.”
When you walked into the kitchen, he was a complete 180 from the night before. He walked up, giving you a kiss on the forehead, asking then sincerely, “How was your day?”
“Fine…” you said, trailing off, giving him a curious look at his nonchalant demeanor.
He brushed it off, grasping your hand and began to lead you to your plate he had set up on the island next to one for him. “That’s good, kitten. Here. I hope you’re hungry.” He immediately paused and said under his breath, “Fuck. Hold on.”
Tony walked off to the pantry and your eyes wandered to the counter. You looked down at the plate and saw it was the dish from your favorite date night restaurant. He did that on purpose, you thought immediately. To remind you he remembered things you liked. To get you something that you did like. It was like an apology, extending an olive branch. This is how he knew how to apologize, with gifts.
You waited patiently until he came back with a long lighter. He smiled at you, lighting the small candle on the counter in between your plates. “Just like at the restaurant.”
A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth at the small touch.
“Sorry, it’s just sparkling cider,” he told you, gesturing at the glass in front of your plate. He held up his bourbon and took a swift drink.
“It’s fine, thanks,” you said, picking up your fork and taking a bite. You savored the taste, chewing slowly.
Silence fell over the table and the two of you ate, both staring down at your plates as you ate. There was something hanging in the air between you and you just wanted to know what.
You got your answer soon enough. Tony’s sigh was heavy as he dropped his fork to his plate. “You know… I do have to apologize.”
That caught your attention.
“I hate doing it. You know I do,” he said, giving a little nervous laugh. “Admitting I’m wrong. Goes against everything in my genes. But… I could—should have done better with aftercare. The bath was bare minimum. I know you need more. We talked about it. And I… I lost my temper. And that’s not fair of me when I’m in the position I am in.”
He had your rapt attention, you tracking his every word. What he said was not untrue – you two had had a conversation about aftercare, especially when it came to punishments. He seemed genuine in his apology.
Tony made eye contact with you, grasping your hand. “In the future, especially during your pregnancy—” He cut off. “And I looked at the report. Everything seems to be okay?” You nodded and he nodded in return, “Good. Good… I need to be more careful. I need to do better. So… I’m sorry.”
You chewed your lip, taking what he said in. He was waiting for you to respond, to say anything, his eyes desperately searching yours.
“I accept your apology,” you told him.
Tony was pleased, his frame relaxing immediately at your forgiveness. Your hand was brought to his lips for a quick kiss. “You’re good. So good.” He stepped closer, and his free hand came to the side of your face, looking into your eyes deeply. “So, after dinner… maybe I can lotion you down?”
“The raspberry shea?”
“Yes, of course. Whatever you want.”
Three words he always said but did not seem to follow through on.
~~~
Forever tags: @coconutqueen21
Fic tags: @kvzctam, @farihafangirls, @teenageregression, @mrsnegan25
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Her Reason
Main Pairings: Shamir x Catherine
Summary: In the wake of Lady Rhea's death, a lost and grief-stricken Catherine frets after Shamir.
Word Count: 2542
Warnings: Grief and loss. Also, I haven't written FE3H before, so don't expect a masterpiece.
*throws at @greengroove and runs away, hiding face*
____________________
The rainstorm that had rolled in further shrouded Garreg Mach in gloom. The downpour came as if to wash away what had been, whether those left behind were ready for that change or not. A sombre atmosphere hung within the monastery’s ancient walls, and nowhere was it more potent than in the audience chamber; where weeping prayers in hushed voices were magnified in their number. Save for the distinct air of mourning, it could have been a scene from before the war. And… save for the absence of the church’s most prominent figure. Where Lady Rhea once stood, a wall of flowers and wreaths paid her tribute.
Few felt that absence more than the archbishop’s most loyal knight. It had been a long time since Catherine had found herself so aimless… bereft. More years than she’d worry herself to count. No doubt it had been noted by her partner, for it was a long time as well since Catherine had been so quiet.
Shamir’s sadness was different. It wasn’t for Lady Rhea-- a fact that she’d never hidden-- it was for her, Catherine. Just this morning before heading out on the mission, Shamir had referred to Lady Rhea with the proper and respectful honorifics, clearly not out of any reverence for the late archbishop-- no way!-- it had all been about treading carefully with Catherine’s emotions. From someone so stubborn…. Well, Catherine knew a thing or two about stubbornness herself, and she knew that some small, subtle acts against the unyielding grain held a lot of weight. If it weren’t for that weight, Shamir’s lack of sorrow for the passing of Lady Rhea might not have been bearable. It wasn’t fair, Catherine knew that, but it was what it was. At least Shamir was honest. She’d take that over the falseness of some of the nobles in ‘mourning’ any day. On a practical level, it meant that Shamir had been able to step up; proving to be a vital force amongst the knights during this period of transition, while others had been made undeniably vulnerable in the wake of their profound loss. It was no secret that this situation was not to last; Shamir, like Catherine, was at a cross-roads. All either of them knew was that it was a transition they would ride out together.
To be honest, Catherine wasn’t sure why she’d come up here. Perhaps it was just a habit that refused to die; when she was lost, Lady Rhea had the answers. But all she found here now was a dull sense of finality. Her purpose for so many years simply no longer existed.
The sound of the rain suddenly became a roar upon the high-vaulted roof. Catherine had to stop herself from flinching. As much of a hindrance that she might have been, and however much both Alois and Shamir might have protested, she’d rather be in the thick of a mission than waiting behind; not knowing what battles were being fought in her absence… not knowing how her partner was faring. She and Shamir were a team for good reason. It was a rare foe that could best their potent combination of belligerent force and sharp precision. There was no doubt that Shamir was perfectly capable without Catherine-- hell, no one could argue against that prowess with the bow-- but… some things were too important to be gambled. Shamir was too important. In this storm, visibility would be compromised….
“Oh, Catherine--”
“Flayn! I didn’t see you there.” Catherine startled, but recovered masterfully. One would have thought being partnered with Shamir for years would have made her immune to being snuck up on… apparently not. Or, she was really off her game.
“How wonderful to see you! It has been a few days… I do not believe I have even glimpsed your face in the dining hall. Not that I…. Well, it is hard not to struggle with one’s appetite in the wake of….”
As Flayn trailed off, her warm smile became sorrowful, but no less kind and genuine.
“Nah, appetite? I don’t even know what that is anymore. It’s a strange feeling for me. All the fire’s just… fizzled out. It’s as if I don’t even know which way is up.”
That was certainly true. It was the same shock that had been so staggering when Lady Rhea had disappeared all those years ago, but the glimmer of hope that driven the fight was now extinguished. And after tasting the sweet relief of finding her alive and-- not well, but alive counted for something, didn’t it?-- but they’d saved her, and then…. It wasn’t just a bitter pill to swallow; it was gutting. Catherine was totally lost. The only thing that made sense anymore, the one thing in all this chaos, was Shamir. How strange that, from the right person, some well-placed snark could court a smile-- even though it be a shaky one. And behind it all, the aloof quietness and the deadpanned jibes, Shamir cared for her. Right now, it made all the difference.
Just get your ass back here safe, partner.
Flayn’s expression was full of concern; no doubt picking up on Catherine’s worry. “If you feel yourself at a loose end, you could do worse than to take the time to care for yourself,” she said gently. “I find a good meal is fine place to start.”
If she could hold anything down…. Actually taking the time to eat a proper meal would, however, kill some time. And maybe she was hungry? Probably just the dread she was feeling, but a bite to eat couldn’t hurt.
The dining hall was bustling; apparently the wild weather had made the lure of a steaming bowl of onion gratin soup simply irresistible. Next to the mournful quiet that permeated the rest of the monastery it was jarring. Well, Catherine had wanted to be distracted.
It was all too easy, though, for the layers of voices to become just an unintelligible roar. The smiling faces grated on Catherine. This was just too normal. It was best she didn’t talk to anyone; just eat her fill and get out of there. She was in no mood for mincing words with anyone who had the nerve to gab away over a meal as if everything hadn’t changed, as if everything wasn’t wrong. These people could take a leaf out of Shamir’s book….
There it was. All of five minutes, and guess who’s on your mind again?
In the wake of Lady Rhea’s passing, it probably only made sense that she was fretting over any possibility that she might lose the other shining light in her life. You could never assume you were going to win any battle, but out of action, Catherine could do nothing except to assume everything was fine. That Shamir was safe. And she couldn’t just do that; the uneasy feeling wasn’t shifting.
She’d just have to deal with it. Thinking about Shamir. All through this wretched storm.
And there was a lot to think about. The proposition that Shamir take Catherine’s hand in marriage had not been forgotten-- not remotely. She cared for her partner deeply, she loved her, and the only future she could see out of this wreckage was the two of them together. There was nothing truly left for Catherine here-- her devotion had not belonged to the church, but for its head--; to disappear with her blunt and prickly Shamir into the sunset was a tantalising lure. But it wasn’t fair. How was Catherine to trust her own judgement when the throes of grief had her on the edge of snapping? That grief-- the price of it-- was not Shamir’s to bear. It would be all too easy to give in to comfort and spare the forethought….
But, a little voice in Catherine’s head stubbornly insisted, you know who you are. You know who you are with her. Any ‘doubt’ is an excuse. You’re just afraid to feel too much; afraid of giving everything and being once again left with a jagged empty space in your heart. Like the one left by Lady Rhea… the one left by Christophe.
If she hadn’t gotten so flustered and just said ‘yes’ then and there, would she be sitting here now? Imagining all that could go wrong on the field of battle in her absence? Perhaps Shamir would have stayed behind with her. Perhaps they’d be huddled together in a quiet corner, sharing a pint… Catherine mourning and Shamir commiserating. And they’d tentatively map out a future. A future different to what Catherine had seen for herself, but not in that they’d be together. That was something she could still believe in. She’d been presented with the perfect opportunity to express her feelings. Why hadn’t she just said ‘yes’?
Soup downed as quickly as possible-- no doubt indigestion would follow-- Catherine made a beeline for the front gates. The sun was going down, the rain slowing; the chances of the mission stretching out any longer than nightfall were slim. Even in a tempest, how long did it take to put down a few wolves, monstrous proportions or not?
As if by clockwork, from out the now-drizzling rain trudged a small group returning from the mission, mud-splattered and --in some cases-- bloodied.
Shamir was not among them.
No, no, no, no no….
Dread hit Catherine like an icy fist to the gut… clenching until she was totally winded. Too roughly, she pulled Byleth aside as they stepped through the heavy doors.
“Where’s Shamir?”
“The group became separated in the downpour--”
Of course it did. Damn it! Not waiting to hear more, Catherine strode off. “Fuck, Byleth! Well, it looks like a nice evening for a walk. I’m going for a bit of… fresh air.”
One hand on Thunderbrand’s hilt, ready to smite whatever creature had lain waste to her partner, Catherine powered on in the direction of the mountainside village the beasts had been threatening. Her angry panting breath caught in her throat, unable to move past the cold, hard lump there.
This was her fault. This was her….
--Thnk--
An arrow whizzed in front of Catherine’s face, finding its mark on a tree at the side of the path and making her skid to a halt.
“Is there a reason you’re striding off alone into the forest?”
And Catherine breathed. There she was, sheltering in the trees… perfectly fine. Safe. Thank the goddess. Thank the fucking-- She ran. She ran and took Shamir in her arms.
The force of the embrace swept Shamir clean off her feet and left her winded. Always nice as it was to see Catherine, this was somewhat excessive. Nevertheless, she hugged back firmly. All this upheaval… to be swept up in the arms of the person she loved most in all the world was admittedly a most wonderful comfort.
“...Anyone would think you’d convinced yourself I’d got killed out there….”
Catherine stepped back, and shifted her weight, sheepish.
Sheepish? Catherine? Oh.
Shamir shook her head in disbelief. Jeez, Catherine was really not okay. “Do you think Byleth would have left me-- would have left anyone-- if the beasts had not already been dispatched?”
“What--? Am I the Byleth-whisperer now? Even they don’t know what’s going on in their head!”
Though admittedly, Catherine realised, Shamir had a fair point. There may have been a smidgeon of unnecessary panicking. What was wrong with her head? It was just the thought of her partner fighting off some slobbering beast alone, compromised by a storm…. If anything had happened because Catherine had been too caught up in grief to be there backing her up….
Shamir brought her numb, wet fingers up to Catherine’s cheek, cradling her there.
“If you need me to remain close, then close is where I’ll stay.”
… then kissed her, slow and deep.
When Shamir pulled back at last, she was met with a dumbstruck expression and without a doubt the fiercest blush she’d ever seen across her partner’s face. Oh, the satisfaction. It was not every day the great Thunder Catherine was rendered speechless. Shamir made a note to remember that trick. Not that she’d ever need an excuse to want to…. It had been a long time coming. Too long.
Catherine swallowed hard. She could feel her mind short-circuiting, but she wouldn’t let it happen this time. Not when that had felt…. She leaned forward, touched her forehead to Shamir’s. It did… feel like coming home. Something joyous, impossibly joyous was rearing up inside her, some swell of certainty and desire and love… a feeling so vast she could not cut it down with even the mightiest swing of Thunderbrand. Why would she even try anyway?-- this was glorious.
“I thought I could always read you…,” Shamir said as her partner seemed to return to her senses, “but I was never quite sure if you understood that I meant it. When I suggested we marry.”
“I wasn’t expecting it!” Catherine defended herself, arms raised. Her face still was a glowing red, she could feel it burning. “Trust you to be the one to take me by surprise.”
Shamir held Catherine’s gaze, trying not to get lost in those startling blue eyes, so alight with fire. She had so feared that fire might fizzle and fade. She’d protect that fire, tend it as she would the spark of her own life. She needed Catherine to know that she’d meant it.
“Someday we might lose this,” she said, voice hoarse. “Actually, scratch that ‘might’; we're not naiive. All things end. But for as long as I’m breathing, all I am is yours. We’re in this for the long run…,” A sparkle came to her eye, as she met Catherine’s, an adoring smirk to her lips, “…partner.”
“It’s a relief that you meant it-- it would have been a wickedly cruel trick in light of the fact that I love you.”
“You…?” Shamir’s breath hitched.
“Love you.” Catherine affirmed. “I… love you.” Was it normal for her heart to be beating this hard? It was going wild, as though she was storming recklessly into a battle of impossible odds. She could hear it over the goddamn rain…. But it was nice. Oh, it was nice. “Heh,” she chuckled. “It actually feels pretty good to say it out loud. You should try it sometime.”
The vulnerability behind that dare wasn’t lost. Shamir could almost hear Catherine holding her breath.
“Catherine. I love you.”
Sputtering a breathless laugh, Catherine pulled her partner-- her lover-- into another embrace. Holding her like she’d never let her go. Because there was not a fucking chance in hell she ever would. She had her reason to keep fighting there in her arms.
“We could take a further dive into blatant sentimentality,” she said. “There is a chance I alarmed Byleth enough that they’ll come searching, and see how hard I’m blushing right now. My reputation will be destroyed forever!” She pulled away, painful as it was. It was, though, in aid of something bigger. “Or you could always just… kiss me again.”
The day’s last rays of the sun pushed through the clearing clouds, creating a sparkle on a rain-drenched land.
And Shamir kissed Catherine again.
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