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cherrysapphirecherry · 2 years

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Anti-Team Hooligan

The whole idea of the Reverse-Universe (love that name btw) is to take any character and even and flip them from a moral standpoint. I love Team Hooligan, so I thought It'd be a cool idea to peer into a "what if" and find out what a Anti-Team Hooligan would look like. More than likely Anti-Team Hooligan, or as I'll call them, Team Shenanigan, is probably a body guard and activist group that puts morals over money and sticks together to do what's right. This puts them in direct opposition to Team Hooligan, a group of thief's and hired arms who only stick together because they get the job done better together, and because of a shared greed. ---------- The first member of Team Shenanigan is Anti-Nack. After everyone on Anti-Mobius changed their names to distinguish themselves from Mobius Prime, Anti-Nack became "Toothless the Protector". Toothless grew up distinguished from all other Weasels in the area he grew up, not for his prominent Fang, but because he was the only one there without one. As a result of this, his nic-name became "Toothless". As Anti-Nack grew older he proudly took back that name and vowed to never let anyone else feel the same sense of sadness and abandonment that he did. Toothless hates big technology, especially gas omitting machines. Toothless instead likes more simple devices. Slingshots instead of guns, Bikes instead of Marvelous Air Bikes, Toothless is cringing at just the thought of something like that. Anti-Fang hates violence as a result of his childhood trauma. He is purely a pacifist valuing life over anything, especially cash. ---------- Anti-Bean, or as he'd prefer to be known: Seed, would be straight laced, no nonsense and skittish. Seed is very intelligent and respectable for his age, usually only speaking to inform. Usually if he say something, it's a nice complement. Seed is very cowardly around fireworks and loud noises. Seed can not summon fireworks, but perhaps he could summon a book? After all, It would explain where he always gets them from. Where ever Bean goes he leaves a trail of destruction in his wake, Seed on the other hand leaves a trail of books and warm hugs. Seed rocks a Pink scarf that complements his green feathers. Next time you see him you should complement it, that would make his day. ---------- Anti-Bark, Zip-It, is a riddle wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a vest. Zip-it, contrary to his name, isn't very quiet, in fact Zip-It is practically the stereotype of a High-School bully. Zip-It isn't strong and tall like Bark is. Despite being very weak, he acts like he could beat anyone in any fight. His tough guy persona, however, is just that. Bark is a very shy bear who is very in touch with his emotions but can't communicate them because he can never speak. Zip-It isn't shy or mute at all, he's bold and brash and couldn't express any emotion other than Violent crys for help, not because he's mute, but because the emotions he's feeling are so heavy he could never rationalize any of them. ---------- Seed's feelings for Zip-It are complicated. On one hand he's loud and violent, everything that Seed hates. But Seed can see though that and empathize with Zip-It's mental struggles. Team Shenanigan doesn't stay together just because they work together. It's deeper than that, they help each other, work with each other, and at the end of the day hold each other together mentally. They all come together as friends every day to help everyone they can, money be damned. That is the exact opposite of Team Hooligan, that is Team Shenanigan.

#nack the weasel #bean the dynamite #bark the polar bear #team hooligan #fang the sniper #toothless the protector #seed the woodpecker #zip-it the polar bear #archie sonic #archie comics #sonic the hedgehog #Sonic #wrighting #fanfic #fanfiction #OC's

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hanafubukki · 3 months

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Happy Birthday Malleus Draconia 💚💕

Summary: You kidnap Malleus Draconia.

Sebek knew it would be a tiring day when he saw a letter placed on his wardrobe table.

It had decorative little crocodiles and squirrels all over with his name written in your writing.

He could already feel a headache incoming.

He’ll wonder how you snuck into his room to place said letter later, he was more interested in the message you had to say.

“Dear Knight,

Your Lord has been kidnapped. He is mine for the day.

Mwah~

YN”

Sebek rushed out of his room, running to the Diasomnia waiting room where his lord would sit and enjoy tea at this time.

…only to be met with a giggling Lilia and a napping Silver.

“YN!”

“Did you have to tease Sebek?”

“It’s all in good fun Tsunotaro.”

“I see.”

While Malleus ponders your answer, you plopped down right next to him on the couch.

“What does this…kidnapping entail?”

You could tell Malleus was humoring you. He found this whole situation funny and yet intriguing.

“For you? Just sit there look pretty and enjoy all the snacks, games, and movies I have.”

Malleus laughed lowly, “YN, I do have duties to fulfill. I can’t just sit here.”

You shrugged, “One day without work won’t bring down your dorm. Besides, all work and no play make dragons go cranky.”

Malleus laughed freely and you joined him this time, “Is that so? Then I shall join in this activity with you.”

You laid the nearby comforter over you and Malleus before starting your T.V.

It would be a good day; you would make sure of it.

“This warrior does not speak?”

“Kind of. He talks he’s just not voice acted, but he does make sounds when you attack with him.”

“Interesting. A silent and courageous warrior who will save his kingdom and the princess.”

“Reminds you of someone?”

“This Link reminds me of Silver. They share many similar qualities.”

You joked, “Are you the princess then?”

“I am a prince, am I not?” Malleus replied, before softly continuing, “and Silver has saved me, from myself.”

You bumped your shoulder with his, “That’s love for you.”

“Yes, it is.”

“That crocodile and that pirate…”

“Funny, isn’t it?”

“Yes, especially as Kingscholar dressed as one during Halloween.”

“Does the crocodile remind you of Sebek?”

The glint in Malleus' eyes answered your question.

You can only imagine Sebek's reaction if he knew, “Well with the way Sebek is always barking at Leona, I can't blame you for thinking it.”

Ah, you were going to hold this over Sebek's head forever.

“Those fairies should have never been given the child.”

“Yeah…”

“They haven’t properly fed her, even Lilia knew to feed a baby!”

“Yeah.”

“She almost fell off the cliff!”

“I know. They suck.”

You tugged at Malleus’ hair, “At least she had someone to take care of her, two of them in fact.”

Malleus calmed down knowing exactly to whom you referred, “Yes, those days were filled with laughter and warmth even amidst the chaos. How…nostalgic.”

Malleus leaned towards you; a mischievous glint in his eyes, it reminded you of a certain pink-streaked fae, “Want to hear an embarrassing story grandmother told me about Lilia?”

“Yes! I’m all ears!”

You watched as Tsunotaro enjoyed Toothless and Hiccup's adventures.

You knew he would like this series.

You wondered how Sam had the trilogy.

…you would question him thoroughly later.

You were content to watch Tsunotaro be happy.

His family is never far from his thoughts as he is never far from theirs.

You felt happy to be part of his family.

“YN, is there a reason to why we are making cupcakes this late at night?”

He didn’t know.

You hid your smile as you put the tray of goodies into the oven.

Malleus must have enjoyed his day if he forgot why tonight would be special.

“Anytime is a good time for cupcakes, just like how you can have ice cream even during winter.”

“I thought it was easier for human’s teeth to decay due to late night sugary treats?”

“We’ll be fine! Just make sure to brush your teeth and don’t tell Trey -senpai.”

You went over to the nearby drawer. The confetti poppers were there as planned, just a few more minutes before the time came, so you snuck them into your pocket discreetly.

“Let’s go play more Zelda.”

You and Malleus moved towards the lounge; you eyed the hallway clock on the way.

Less than a minute.

You took out the poppers from your pocket.

“Malleus?”

“Yes?”

You pulled the poppers out just as he entered the ramshackle lounge.

3…2…1

“Happy Birthday (Lord) Malleus!”

Malleus was shocked as confetti rained on him from all sides.

Lilia, Silver, Sebek, and you surrounded him as the day turned over.

His surprised face broke into a wide smile before an unrestrained joyous laughter filled the lounge.

What a beautiful start to today.

The day Malleus Draconia was born.

A day filled with endless love.

Happy Birthday Malleus.

Resounded affectionately in all the hearts of everyone present.

May you always be filled with happiness and love.

Bonus:

Silver came to you as you watch Lilia bear hug Malleus. It was funny how someone so petite wrapped all four limbs on someone so tall.

Silver hesitated.

You knew.

“He baked a cake, didn’t he?”

Silver sighed, “Yes. We tried to stop him.”

You laughed and shook your head.

“It’s okay. Toxic waste it might be, but it is something Lilia made with him in mind. Malleus will love it nonetheless.”

You bumped shoulders with Silver, whispering, “We made cupcakes.”

Silver’s grateful smile had you hugging him.

No one will get food poisoning today, not on your watch.

You hoped.

☺️🌺🌸💚

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passavantsridge · 2 years

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i make all my friends in the tiny laundry room

#getting barked at by a shivering toothless chihuahua creates bonds that will never break

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lethalchiralium · 4 months

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“Out out out out out- Come here, you-“

His dog took off from the front porch, Soap snapping angrily at him for snatching a some chicken bones from the basket Simon just brought in. He watched his Collie prance along the yard, jaw settled on the biggest bone he found.

“The wife’s not gonna like that.” Simon muttered as he joined his husband on the porch, holding their daughter with one hand - letting her face the farm with a cute face of delight. She cooed, little hands opening and closing as she watched her dog go nuts in the grass.

Soap frowned, knowing if he tried to retrieve the bone he’d lose a hand, but if he didn’t retrieve the bone he’d lose his head. He wasn’t keen on their wife being angry at him, she had a nice day training her horses and counting the sheep; no need to piss her off. “She’s got bone broth to make.”

“She does.” Simon confirmed, hiking the little baby up on his chest to keep her close to his face. “Babe’s getting hungry.”

“Looks it too.” Soap glanced to his side, spying his daughter beginning to chew on his husband’s finger. “Gotta get that damn bone.”

He chuckled a little. “Shadow!” The black Collie instantly turned his head towards Simon, who pulled his hand from his daughter’s mouth to point to his foot. “Here.”

Soap rolled his eyes, turning and grabbing his baby as the mutt ran and laid down at Simon’s feet. He kissed his daughter’s blonde hair, keeping her dress nice and flat as he moved back into the cabin. The fire was low in the fireplace, Simon’s knives left abandoned on the table beside the now out of reach basket of chicken bones. He’s got an awake baby in his hands, he knows she’s getting hungry by her little grunts and coos that she is going to be pissed soon. Simon walked in and to the basket, tossing the wiped clean bone into it before placing it higher on a bookshelf.

“Miss Claire,” Soap cooed to his baby, her little face looked up to him with a toothless grin. “Mum’ll be home soon. Ye'r nae gonnae starve.”

“You still goin’ with Laswell to town tomorrow?” Simon commented, hand gently patting Shadow before he opened a drawer, grabbing the silverware he had made years ago. “We need more grain for the-“

“Horses, I know.” He sighed, looking over to the blond as he set the table for three. Soap settled in his chair, letting his baby gnaw on his finger. “Ya sure ya dinnae wanna come?”

Simon chuckled a little. “Got Claire to watch. Mum’s gonna want to bathe the babe and the dog tomorrow, she needs hands.”

“More hands make less work.”

“Especially with the damn dog.” A pause, Soap didn’t even have to look to know Simon was staring down their shepherd dog. “Yes you, ya mutt. Go outside and wait for Mum.”

There was the scratching of the dog’s claws as he bounded back outside, barking happily as you walked in, hands dragging down your dirtied dress with a smile. Claire cooed in Soap’s grasp, Simon’s hand gently brushed through his husband’s hair. The dog followed you as you closed the front door, then to your dirt dusted husbands. A kiss to both their lips, then one to the blonde hair of your baby.

“Did ya want me to cook?” Simon murmured as Soap pressed kisses to your cheek, you pulled away from him and your daughter to stretch your arms above your head.

“You’d set the cabin on fire.”

“She’s right, Si-“

“Shut up.”

“Simon, baby, get my dress.” You turned your back, he instantly began to loosen your corset upon your request. “Just wanna feed the baby and go to bed.”

“Gotta eat, love.” Soap’s hand settled on your leg, big smile on his face. “At least you do.”

You nodded, gazing at your happy baby in his lap. “I’ll feed ‘er after Simon burns the house down.” Simon tugged on the strings of your corset, making you wobble on your feet. You whipped your head around to see him smirk. “Don’t be trouble, Simon, it doesn’t end well.”

“‘Course it doesn’t.” He glanced up to you before he pulled your dress down your front - you gasped, Soap suddenly stood to take your baby away. “Trouble is what made that little one, Little Bird.” You were spun around, callused hands picked you up and brought you the few feet to the massive bed in the adjacent room - Simon placed you in the middle of the bed, yanking off your dress and leaving you in your chemise and stockings. Yet, he didn’t pursue what he usually would - instead, he kissed your lips and smiled. “I’ll make dinner. Rest.”

Soap instantly appeared, bouncing around little Claire in her dress that once matched yours. He smirked, gazing at your shocked expression. “Dinna worry, we’ll ravage ya when the babe’s asleep.”

#montana moonshine series #montana moonshine #lethalchiralium #lethal chiralium #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x wife!reader #simon ghost riley x wife!reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x soap x wife!reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #johnny soap mactavish x f!reader

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queenimmadolla · 11 months

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For the blurb thing

Eddie

Bath

Fluff

𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞, 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 '𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 ─ because i don't want to keep track of a bunch of different dad!eddies

“This is fucking gross.”

“Well, you smell gross. So.”

Eddie huffed, brows furrowed in irritation as he leaned his back against the shower tile. The baby in his arms slapped her palms furiously against the red mixture of water and tomato juice filling your small tub, the splashback splattering across Eddie’s face.

He looked ridiculous. You’d already taken the pictures.

The trailer was lucky enough to be equipped with a small…tub of sorts. Really, it seemed to be only suitable for children, no grown adult could bath comfortably in one of these.

Yet, here Eddie found himself, folded up in it with his knees poking out, no leg room, no back room–his ‘lean’ put him at a 92 degree angle, if he was lucky– holding a one year old, who had most definitely already peed in the mixture.

So, now he was sitting in tomato juice, water and piss.

Eddie was not happy.

“There we go,” You sang, as you poured the last can, tapping the bottom of it for good measure.

“Is that necessary?” He snapped.

You took no offense, eyes wary as you eyed him from top to knee before locking eyes again, “You need every drop.”

Then you pinched your nose and Eddie rolled his eyes.

What had been a promising start to family day at the park–picnic basket, copy of a new book you’d picked out at the bookstore in town with a couple of penny’s favorite blocks to beat into the ground, in hand–quickly turned disastrous when Eddie had taken Penny over to a tree she’d been pointing towards and babbling at while you set up the blanket, and the two of them had promptly been sprayed by a skunk hiding behind the tree trunk.

You’d heard a lot of screaming and squealing. Penny even yelled out once.

The car ride back was agony, having the front windows rolled down and the back ones propped open didn’t help, you’d had to stick your head out the window, uncaring about other people in passing cars. If being compared to a dog meant you didn’t have to smell your husband and baby, you’d bark.

Eddie had to stand outside the trailer holding Penny while you rummaged around for a Wellness magazine you’d seen the measurements for a tomato juice bath in once. When you appeared in the doorway, magazine clutched in your hands and held in the air victoriously, Eddie and Penny got to go inside while you took your car–and not his stinky van–to the market to pick up some tomato juice.

Eddie hadn’t been willing to sit in it. If it weren’t for Penny, you would have had to chase him around the trailer but you'd been able to gaslight him into thinking Penny wouldn’t like this particular bath since it wasn’t just water. A low blow since you knew how distressed he got when she cried.

So he’d gotten in. And Penny was having the freaking time of her young life.

“Do you like your bath, baby?” You cooed, leaning forward as she beamed up at you, toothless mouth open wide with her smile and those big brown eyes of hers sparkling. All because it was you talking to her, she loved you so much, “Yeah, awww, such a good stinky girl, huh?”

Penny squealed in agreement, hands slapping down against the water again, making Eddie flinch. Then she wiggled, chubby arms reaching out to you, asking you to pick her up and hold her but you quickly ran out of the breath you were holding so you yanked yourself back for a breather. The car ride might have got you a little familiar with their scent but you weren’t nose blind.

Eddie took offense, “How long do we have to sit in this?”

“Until you don’t stink.” You scooped some of the mixture up in a plastic cup and poured it over his head, trying not to laugh at the frenzied look on his face.

Penny didn’t hide it, she laughed openly, turning so she could be sure to make eye contact with her daddy. She got the same hair treatment, but she was used to having her hair washed this way, she loved it.

“And exactly how long is that, dearest?” That had been the closest he’d been to calling you a bitch.

“Uhm,” You gave Penny the cup to play with while you wiped your hand off and picked up the magazine resting on the small sink counter. It had been open, you scanned past the measurements until you reached the set time, “twenty minutes.”

Eddie was about to launch into complaints when he noticed your slight frown and the furrow in your brows.

“Huh.” Is all you said, head cocking to the side

“What?”

You were silent for a moment, reading the sentence over again in your head before you read aloud, “Does not eliminate or neutralize odor.”

“WHAT!?”

“I know right? Why would they provide the measurements for the tomato juice and water ratio if it doesn’t even work? Is this an amateur? Some sucker is walking around, thousands of dollars in debt with a degree in journalism, only to write about myt–”

“GET ME OUT!”

#last of the baby blurbs from the first round are gonna start going out #vivi's baby blurbs #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #pennyverse #dad!eddie #girl dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #stranger things #eddie munson blurb

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sarnai4 · 29 days

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All In

Spoilers ahead for RTTE. I've seen and read a lot of stories, but I only have one character who's been my favorite hero and villain. That character is Dagur because he always went all in on whichever role he's supposed to play. I think the reason is that most characters are written with one particular role in mind. I've seen some who are meant to become heroes, so they never do anything too bad. They can't seem truly evil because they're eventually going to be good guys. Then, some characters have been part of that untrustworthy/villainous side for so long that even when they're supposed to be good, they do shady things that show how they're almost naturally villains. Neither of these happen with Dagur. When he's bad, he's really a villain; when he's good, he's really a hero. I love that.

I've seen mostly two opinions on Dagur. One where he's this monster who would eat kids in their nightmares and one where he's done nothing wrong. I feel like part of what makes him so amazing is that he did have both sides to him. As an antagonist, Dagur pulled no punches. He had the highest confirmed kill count of any human character. On top of who knows how many merchants he killed (since he was very ready to do that), he killed an entire island worth of Vikings. It's not just that either. He's one of the few villains who consistently tries to kill the Riders. When they were caught on the ship, he wanted to drown one of them. When he was fighting Astrid, he tried to dig an ax into her torso. He wasn't even loyal to other villains since he was constantly planning to betray them like with Alvin or the Grimborns. Villainous Dagur was threatening, unpredictable, and murderous. He was also a lot of fun, which made him my favorite baddie. Then, he pleasantly surprised me by turning good.

Dagur didn't have one of those moments where he tried to turn bad again. In all honesty, he couldn't. He'd done so many horrible things as a villain that if he ever did anything even remotely villainous again, no one would be able to forgive him. To put it into perspective, Dagur tried to sacrifice himself for everyone and STILL didn't gain all their trust. Generally, self sacrifice is kind of the most you can do, but since he didn't die, Heather was immediately suspicious of him again when she found him. It's because of everything he had done. So, to make up for how good of a villain he was, he had to be just as good a hero. Dagur became an incredibly selfless good guy.

Hiccup literally yelled that he hated him for leaving him with the Hunters (who technically had only captured the two of them because Hiccup tried to kill Dagur for supposedly poisoning Toothless) and Dagur was on his way to get Toothless to save him. When Dagur tried to sacrifice himself, he had to fight against Heather to do it. He isn't someone who needs someone to care about him back in order for him to protect them. Even in what he thought would be death, Dagur continued to try to help the Riders stop Viggo. Although the gold wasn't his, he still found it for Berk. Even though no one asked him to, he sent Berk willow bark when they didn't have any for medicine. On top of this, Dagur let Gustav (who is basically canonically hated by everyone) stay on Berserker Island at the request of Stoick. I'd say that after putting his life at risk and protecting the Riders, these other actions are necessary, but they show that the little details matter to him. I realize they matter to me too because they really showed me how much being a good person meant to Dagur. At every turn, he tried to do what he could to help his new friends. I truly respect that. He never half did anything. It makes sense. According to him, it's the Berserker way. All in, all the time. Sounds just like Dagur to me.

#HTTYD #RTTE #Dagur the Deranged #Hiccup #Heather #Villains #Redemption

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fleurix-mogai · 11 months

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since im going back into the xeno scene i just wanted everyone to know that i might just be active again. chances will be increased if i find a decent thing to make flags on in IOS, so if someone could send me flag app recs i might just be active again!

#toothless barks

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thesparklingwriter · 1 year

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playing dress up

“I think you’re plenty special, mama.”

tags: pet names, Zhongli is very pure, soft Zhongli, fem!reader, Zhongli and reader are in a relationship, they have a kid because why not, Zhongli get bullied by his wife and daughter because he's whipped, i just wanted to write him with a kid, i am puking rainbows and candyfloss, this is a bit too sweet

masterlist | ao3 link | taglist | next

hi, i'm interrupting your path to the fic because i wanted to say thank you for 50 followers (ik its not a lot but humour me) i made this blog like 3 weeks ago on a whim and i didn't expect people to like my stuff this much. so thank you again for all your support, and i hope you enjoy, and i don't know what to do to celebrate my silly little milestone but I'll probably just double-post tonight or tomorrow.

"Mei-mei?" You call, running up the stairs into your daughter's room. You heard a crash, and the silence since has been deafening. "Jingmei, are you okay?"

You hear tiny giggles and a playful bark. Thank the archons that she's okay. On that note, where is Zhongli? You creep into Mei's room, only to find her with bows on her horns that match Amber's collar. She giggles again. "Mama, look! Me and Amber are matching!"

You smile. "I see that, honey," You pick her up, hugging her tight against your chest. She's growing so, so fast, and it scares you. "You look amazing."

Jingmei having horns was a shock to your system. They sprouted one night when she was three, and since then, they appear whenever she's tired or really, really excited. Even Zhongli was surprised by it. "I don't know," he said when you asked why this was happening. "Archons having children with mortals is rare. I suppose it's like half-adeptus children, but I can't be certain." He pulled you to him and kissed your hair. "Stop worrying, love. She's healthy and happy. That's all that matters."

"Thank you, mama," she grins a toothless grin at you, and slides out of your hands, pulling you down with her.

"Mei, where's your father?" you ask her. She leans closer to you conspiratorially, pressing her forehead against yours.

"We're having a princess party. He's getting changed."

"Into a princess dress?" you ask, widening your eyes in excitement. Jingmei simply shrugs.

"I don't know. But he said I can decorate his horns." You chuckle to yourself, Zhongli doesn’t know the word ‘no’ when it comes to you, your daughter, or your dog. It makes you laugh that a whole archon gets bossed around by women when he gets home. "Mama, why don't you have horns?"

You'd been waiting for this question. Jingmei is an observant child--she gets that much from her father--it was only a matter of time before she questioned your lack of horns, and you'd been practising what to say. You considered running it by Zhongli, but you had a feeling he'd say the unfiltered truth--which you suspected would be too much for her to handle.

"I'm not special in the same way you and your dad are." You say softly. "You get your horns and magnificent hair from him, and your pretty smile and clever mind from me." In all honesty, Jingmei is more him than you in terms of appearance--sometimes people don't believe you are her mother, especially if they don't know Zhongli. But the minute she opens her mouth, everyone knows that she's yours. She's as eloquent as you are, quick-witted, and sometimes a little stubborn. And you love her for it.

“I think you’re plenty special, mama.” JIngmei smiles widely, throwing her arms around your neck enthusiastically, almost knocking you over in the process.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you smile, littering her cheeks with kisses until she’s giggling uncontrollably.

"Jingmei, I'm afraid none of your mother's dresses fit me," Zhongli's voice trails in from outside. "I hope my makeshift dress will do." He walks into the room, with the blanket from your bed draped over his silk pyjamas. You and your daughter both burst into laughter, so much so that Zhongli almost blushes.

"What are you two laughing at?" He scowls, pulling you both into a hug, and gracing Amber with her obligatory head pats. She yips happily.

"Nothing," you both giggle.

Zhongli huffs, sinking onto Jingmei’s bed. He glances at his daughter’s makeup supplies from across the room. If he’d known he was going to be her only model, he’d have bought some less bright colours. “I suppose I should stay true to my promise.”

“Mei-mei,” You smile brightly, glancing at Zhongli with playful mischief. “How about I let you use some of my things today? Prince Papa deserves the best, no?”

Jingmei jumps up. “I’ll get it!” She giggles as the runs out of the room, Amber bounding happily behind her.

“How does she know where my make-up is?” You ask Zhongli lightly, sitting beside him and running your hands through his hair. He chuckles, leaning his head into your hands.

“This isn’t the first time we’ve used your makeup, love.”

“What?”

“It’s been at least a year and a half,” he says shamelessly. “We did ask you. Admittedly, you were half asleep, but you did say yes.”

You scowl at him. “I sure hope you don’t apply that logic to anything else.”

Zhongli laughs. “I don’t do anything you don’t explicitly ask for.”

“Yeah, hence why we have a four-year-old,” You scoff. He’s nothing but a big liar.

“If I remember correctly, you asked for that too.” You scowl at him even more—if that’s even possible—and gently slap his arms.

“Don’t say things like that when Jingmei’s around.” You hiss. “Especially when they aren’t true.”

“But they are true,” He smiles, drawing you closer to him. “I’m not in the business of spreading misinformation. You know that.”

You roll your eyes at him as Jingmei comes storming back into the room. “Found it!” She smiles happily. “Are we group hugging?” She says, glancing between you and her dad. She puts the makeup on the floor and barrels into the both of you, stretching her little arms out as far as they go.

She may not have the words to express it, but growing up in a house so full of love makes her want to show that love to whoever she sees—be it a bug she sees out in the wild, a new friend, or simply just her parents.

“Jingmei, darling, you’re prodding me with your horns.” Zhongli chuckles, trying to sit up. But the little girl insists on staying put, her grip on you both tightening.

“Am not.”

“Are too.” Zhongli retorts. It sometimes throws you off to see how easily he switches out of his usual formal manner of speaking when it comes to his daughter. It seems he does the opposite to you sometimes--you swear he uses bigger words just to confuse you.

Amber yips excitedly and launches herself onto you, offended that she’s been left out. Zhongli chuckles to himself. He never thought this kind of life would suit him. He thought he was destined to live life on his own, detached from the rest of the humans he watched over. He’s grateful for you and his daughter because you made the decades of solitude worth it, and he’ll savour every minute he has with the both of you. And Amber.

an: i spent half an hour on a name website to try and find a traditional Chinese name that had something to do with crystals, and this was the best name i could find, but if it's actually a curse word or something I think I'll just cry

#flufftober2022 #genshin fluff #zhongli fanfic #ao3 fanfic #tswzhongliflufftober #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact flufftober #fanfiction #fan fiction #zhongli fan fiction #genshin fanfiction #zhongli x reader #zhongli genshin impact

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blackknight-100 · 3 months

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Hello there anon, and thank you for the prompt! I got so excited with this I accidentally posted your ask without answering it (I'm so sorry😭😭) so I'm afraid I have to use a screenshot. I hope you like reading this!

Character Swap - Arjuna and Karna

Phalguna comes to Kuntidesha as it always does, but this year the air is colder, and the soil is wet with rain. The ponds are full and even rivers flow swifter, for Indra turns his eye upon them.

Princess Pritha bears the last few weeks of her womanly toil with ill grace; she is yet sixteen, face perpetually wrinkled in agony. The King of Gods has promised her maidenhood, Pritha thinks she would have given that up to be rid of this soreness.

When her time comes one cloudy eve, her trusted maid kneels by her screaming self, and snips the cord off a divine child.

The babe is soft and beautiful, with her looks and her smile and her curled hair; he yawns in restless sleep like a little dark moon. Pritha’s head is bent in prayer, her still-young heart is numb. She is a princess of two noble Kings, a star in the darkness of Āryavarta. Few women have her fortune, even lesser have her power, and yet she is just another girl, at the mercy of sages and gods, and the thought makes Pritha's head bow lower.

She stands by the raging Aswa as her maid gently sets the basket afloat, for foolish she may be, but cruelty comes only through her orders, and never by her hand, and the sky shatters with thunder and rain. Of all the recipients of Indra’s wrath, there has never been one more tragic.

His father from his heavenly throne names the child Arjuna, swears to guide and lead and bestow divine counsel, but as songs later let us know: he is ever known by his mothers’ names, for he is Rādha and Pritha's son.

Karna is born the last of Kunti’s sons, and the third of Pāndu’s scions. He comes into the world like a shining light, with her face and her smile and her curls in his hair. For the first few weeks, Kunti cannot bear to look at the babe, and nurses him with her eyes to the sky. The sun shines upon them, bright and reprimanding, and Kunti wills Surya to chastise his own brother.

To Mādri she says, and to a concerned Pāndu, that the birth tired her, to the child she murmurs tales of a long-lost brother.

“He looked just like you,” Kunti tells him, as Karna swings in his cradle. It is a rickety thing, old as Yudhisthira, and worn with Bheema’s fervour, but it is a cradle still, and Kunti wonders if her other son ever knew one.

“I think you would have loved him,” Kunti says, wistfully, weaving dreams out of her yearning. “He would have been your big brother.”

The boy in the cradle coos at her, toothless smile lighting up the world, and for a moment his face is dark, and outside it rains, and the babe in her arms is Indra’s child.

“You are terrible,” Arjuna scowls at Duryodhana, even though his father has taken great pains to counsel him otherwise. “He is just having fun.”

Duryodhana turns an interesting shade of purple. “His fun involves beating up my brothers and acting innocent when Pitāmaha asks him about it.”

Arjuna has no reason to defend this new prince, one whom he has never seen nor met, but his mouth betrays him once more. “That is not a good enough reason to kill him. You are merely jealous.”

“Kill whom?” says a voice, and Arjuna nigh jumps out of his skin as a boy swings down from the mango tree.

“Karna,” Duryodhana sighs. “Are you troubling the squirrels again?”

“No,” the boy says, shoving his fist behind his back. He is barely five and... light; his eyes are light and honey-brown, his hair is the light of sunshine on tree-barks, and his face glows like day. “You’re going to kill my brother,” he repeats stubbornly.

Arjuna blinks; his father would not forgive him for this.

Duryodhana sighs once more. “Your brother is beating mine up.”

“I will tell him not to,” Karna promises, and Arjuna is a little sorry for the boy – all wobbling lips and earnest eyes. “I will tell Mother if he does. Please don’t kill him.”

Arjuna expects Duryodhana to say something like ‘Run along, child’ or ‘Do not eavesdrop on your elders’, but the prince has an indulgent, almost fond look on his face.

“Give me that,” he says, pointing at the hand Karna has behind his back. Arjuna thinks it a cruel thing to ask, then the boy reluctantly brings out a bursting handful of areca nuts, and Arjuna has to laugh.

Duryodhana smiles as well, plucks one of the six in his hand. Karna drops two others, and as he bends to retrieve his fallen treasures, Duryodhana ruffles his hair.

“Run along now, little scamp,” the Kaurava prince says.

“Are you going to kill him?” Karna asks, eyes wide and worried.

“No,” Duryodhana assures him, “but remember what we agreed, yes?”

Karna beams at them, one after the other. “I will! See you.”

With that, he is gone.

Duryodhana cracks the nut and hands half of it to Arjuna – sinfully possessive one moment, impossibly generous the next.

Arjuna gapes at him. “Are you really not going to kill Bheem?”

Duryodhana glowers at him. “Go lay an egg,” he says, rudely, and stalks off. Arjuna stares at his retreating back, confused.

But no news comes that day, or the next, or any of the weeks after, and slowly, Arjuna learns to breathe easier.

“Who is that?” Krishna asks.

Karna starts, he has not been paying attention. Krishna is the scion of faraway Dwārika, and not much of an acquaintance in any manner of the term, although the dark haired prince claims he has hardly ever been outside Vrindāvan, and never to the city by the sea.

“Pardon me,” Karna says, contrite, “whom do you speak of?”

“That boy,” says Krishna, and points towards a lone figure lurking by the stables.

“That is Arjuna. His father is Pitāmaha's charioteer.”

“May I speak to him?”

“Excuse me,” Karna hails the older boy, “can you spare a moment?”

Arjuna appears at his side, all muddy fringes and stiff bows. “Greetings, princes.”

“Greetings,” Karna nods. “This is Krishna, my cousin. Krishna, Arjuna.”

Krishna is tall and dark, his young face beams with pleasure. “How do you do, Pārtha?”

Arjuna blinks. “Uh... I am not called that. My mother’s name is Rādha.”

Krishna gives him a secret smile, and waves at someone above his head. Karna, distracted by a squirrel, nearly misses it.

“Duryodhana?” he says, delighted, when he notices the other boy on the balcony. “Come down, come down.”

Krishna shakes his arm. “Perhaps, the four of us can go to the garden?”

Sometime later, the four of them are seated around a bush, shears in hand. The rose shrub is not big enough to make a topiary out of, but Queen Gandhari has arranged tables around it with the hopes of giving the boys a more fruitful pastime to channel their excitement into.

“And what should I do?”

Arjuna is seated beside Krishna, facing the others. Duryodhana picks up his shears and snips a stray leaf. “We have to make this appear smooth and shapely.”

“Why?”

Karna stares at him. “Because Aunt Gandhari says so, of course.”

Krishna pulls his legs up on the bench, lifts a fist to the air. “Let’s dooo it!”

For the next couple of hours they work diligently, or at least pretend to, for Duryodhana starts kicking Karna under the bench, and Karna kicks him back, and it is an entertaining game; Krishna, meanwhile, shows Arjuna how and where to snip – he has clever eyes, and his hands are dexterous.

When they finally leave, one side of the bush poorer than the other, Krishna swings his hands around his new friend’s shoulders and lags behind the two princes. “You were saying Guru Drona does not want to teach you?”

Arjuna flushes. “That is true. It is er... his choice, of course, no disrespect intended.”

Krishna’s eyes twinkle. “Dau and I are going to study with Guru Sāndīpani. Do you wish to come with?”

Arjuna chances a glance at Karna, barely jealous, but there still. “I think I would like that.”

“Can we not do this here?” Arjuna hisses. His father looks over from the garden where he and Rādha Mā are talking to Lord Bhishma, and Arjuna is afraid.

“Come now,” Duryodhana groans. “We are settling it man to man, just as Pitāmaha wanted. What is wrong now?”

Arjuna glances at the Pāndava brothers, aching with the weight of Anga’s crown and the knowledge of the Jatugrīha. “Why am I a part of this conversation?”

Yudhisthira coughs politely, as he is wont to. It gets on Arjuna's nerves like nothing else. “If you will excuse me,” he says, “we must greet our mother.”

The Pāndavas glance up as one, and Arjuna notices Dowager Empress Kunti hurrying down the steps.

“Mother,” Karna and Sahadeva exclaim excitably and there is a flurry of motion as they settle down to accept their blessings. To his surprise, Duryodhana follows, and he is compelled to join in the flock.

“There you are, darling,” Kunti says, pulling him up, then freezes.

Something old and forgotten stirs within Arjuna – a shadow of a memory, a wisp of a dream, a woman still as a flame with a child in her arms. Mother, he nearly says, ancient words soaring to his mouth, the shapes of them lingering on his tongue. Mother, look what we have brought home.

Then the Grandfather joins them and the moment is gone.

His father throws him a disapproving glance, and Arjuna shrinks from the princes. His mother, though, is staring at Karna.

“Vāsu...?” she whispers, as if to a ghost, and Karna turns.

“Yes, Mā?”

“His name is Karna,” Bheema declares loudly, and glares at them. The prince has not yet forgiven Arjuna’s stunt at the Graduation, even if Karna claims he would have done the same.

Radha Mā looks flustered, and Karna shifts in discomfort, as if put on a stage for a part he does not know how to play. Adhiratha grabs Arjuna and wraps an arm around his wife.

“Please forgive her, Prince,” he says, and starts pulling them away. “By your leave...”

Arjuna supposes they have embarrassed his father enough. His mother walks as if in a trance. “Vāsu?” she murmurs under her breath. “Vāsusena... child, where are you gone?”

Arjuna, alarmed, turns one last time. Karna is miserable and bewildered, staring after Rādha like a lost child, and Kunti's eyes, seeking him, are wet with tears.

Arjuna sits silent and still, horror trembling beneath his skin like a fluttering bird.

“Duryodhana, please...” Arjuna whispers, unsure of what he begs, and fearful of the prince's wrath.

“I bet my brother, Karna,” Yudhisthira says, drunk on dharma and shivering with repentance. “If I win, I shall have him and all that is on the board; if you do, then he is yours.”

Karna looks up, stunned. There is betrayal on his face, and Arjuna’s heart stings. Even Duryodhana frowns, for Karna alone of all his cousins he names a friend.

“As you say,” Shakuni shrugs, and rolls his dice. “Lo! I win!”

Karna rises from his seat without being asked, walks over to kneel beside his brothers. His mien is smooth and calm now, all torment shielded behind a mask, but Bheema leaps up, enraged.

“Brother!” he tells Yudhisthira, “Hear me! Cease this madness before you lose all else.”

“I cannot leave them to this fate, Bheema,” Yudhisthira says, and picks the dice again. “I stake Bheema.”

“No, wait,” Duryodhana says, brows furrowed. “Māmāshree, do not bet now.”

The two players look up.

“No more?” Yudhisthira repeats slowly, as if he thought this game would go on forever, till the last brother was staked, and perhaps his wife and mother as well.

“Are you sure, my dear?” Shakuni asks.

Duryodhana ignores both of them, strides over to Karna. “Come with me.”

“I shall split your head open,” Bheema roars from beside Yudhisthira. “Leave him alone.”

“I won him,” Duryodhana reminds him coldly, “and I would that he comes with me.”

Karna rises with a grace that startles Arjuna, no longer the clumsy middle prince who dropped things, just like he is no longer a charioteer's dutiful son.

“I will go,” he says, and Yudhisthira turns to the court at large. “Please forgive my brother’s outburst.”

Arjuna wants to slap him.

Duryodhana wraps an arm around Karna's shoulders, and steers him to the doors. For a moment it appears that Bheema would follow, but then the Kaurava prince dismisses the guards, and they step just outside, far enough so no one can overhear whispers, but near enough that they are seen, and a fuming Bheema sits back down.

Arjuna sits and waits for a long time, like all others at court, even the blind Emperor, who can never walk without his son, and thinks miserably of how much Krishna would disapprove.

He is about to join them, either to pacify or to add fuel to the fire, when Karna speaks, loud and sarcastic enough to be heard all over the court. “I loved it. I loved it so much I am going to write a play about it, and have actors sent to perform it all over Āryavarta. Why, I should- ”

Duryodhana catches his flailing hands, shushes him. They whisper once more. The blind Emperor swivels his head in apparent confusion. Arjuna gets up to intervene.

Then Duryodhana walks in, a furious Karna in tow.

Arjuna seizes him by the arm. “Let them go, Duryodhana,” he pleads. “Do not do this.”

His patron and friend...? looks at him quietly for a long time, so long that Arjuna very nearly reaches for his bow.

Dhritarashtra, for once in his life, takes the cue. “Court is dismissed,” he calls, and the ordeal is over.

“You have counselled me wisely,” Duryodhana says at last. “Now, and before. It is a shame that I heeded you not.” Then he raises his head and says aloud, without preamble or explanation, “Let all be returned and restored to the Pāndava princes. Thank you, noble ones, for joining us in this game. We shall retire soon for lunch.”

Two years later, when the knowledge of the game is a rumour, and the incident at Indraprastha's lake is forgotten, Karna comes alone to Hastinapura. Krishna, who is visiting, gives Arjuna one of his secret smiles.

At the gates, Duryodhana meets him stiffly, for things have never been the same between the two sets of cousins. They bow ceremoniously, Dhritarashtra speaks a few half-hearted greetings, and Gandhari fusses over him.

Karna and Duryodhana stare at each other, and then Karna wraps him in a fierce hug.

“You’re not forgiven,” the Pandava prince says, voice muffled, but Arjuna notes Karna's trembling hands and thinks he knows otherwise.

Then, to his surprise, Karna turns to him. Krishna smiles at him again and whispers, “Prepare yourself, Angarāja.”

Before Arjuna can ask him what he means, Karna bows to him and says, “Greetings, brother.”

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cyberneticlagomorph · 6 days

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The venue, because that's what it is not a court house or anything of the sort, is a grand old theater with a blazing marquee that proclaims "TRIAL TODAY" in bold black letters.

A red carpet has been spread out from the theater's wide open double doors like a tongue lolling from a toothless mouth. Either side is lined with jostling reporters and flashing cameras that summon a seizure aura almost immediately. You grit your teeth against the sensation and hope it's something small this time and not a fit of spasms.

Vehicles of every shape, size, and description stands in an anxious line at the opposite end of the red carpet, with their occupants exiting with just as much awe and applause as if this were some Hollywood get together and not a bid for a little boy's life.

When your turn comes the crowd falls to a hush as the Great Crow slowly spirals down from a gap in the clouds and deposits the cage at the edge of the carpet. You exit first, sunglasses on in a feeble attempt to block out the buzzing flashing seething crowd that pulsates around you like ravenous corpse worms. You spot a familiar face in the crowd the same second he spots you, but you're faster by a mile and haul the scrawny brown haired man up by his neck.

"YOU!" The word isn't a word, it's a bark, a hiss, a growl between clenched teeth.

One Peter Benjamin Parker writhes in your grip like a bug with its legs pulled off.

How fitting.

"It's PASSOVER! PASSOVER!!!" Peter, or Benji as you used to call him when you were kids, gasps as he tries to loosen your grip. He says the words like a payer, like they mean something. "You.... promised... Aunt... May..." You scowl and drop him, watching him quickly scramble to his feet, rubbing at a neck that's already starting to bruise.

"I should kill you where you stand."

"You should, I totally agree with you on that BUT you promised my dear Aunt (may her memory be a blessing) that you wouldn't, no matter what I did." Benji gives you the biggest set of puppy dog eyes he can give you, though the effect is lessened by just how many eyes that actually is.

"She moved to FLORIDA Ben, stop telling people she's dead."

Benji clasps his hands together and does his best to look somber, "Sometimes I can still hear her voice..."

You try and fail not to smile at his dumb joke.

Benji holds up his camera, "C'mon just a few shots, my rent is due and I PROMISE I'll make you and the kid look good."

You scowl again and flex your fingers in a surprisingly threatening manner.

Benji shrinks back just a little, "...I'll even turn my flash off?"

You punch him somewhere tender and keep moving up the carpet, ignoring your growing migraine and the dangerous roar of your empty belly.

Any other reporters that get to close face your wrath and end up with their skeletons rearranged without breaking their skin.

Zeb is flanked on all sides by family members and snarling hyenas, safely hidden from the ravenous paparazzi as you make your way inside the darkened maw of the theater.

#ic #action post #trial by liar

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virtualcarrot · 7 months

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[KKIR] The smell of another

(Posted on AO3)

Some things, Iruka doesn't notice straight away. Truly, between the bafflement and the awe that is dating Konoha's Rokudaime, man of a great many legends and mysteries, he's a bit too starry-eyed to process additional information. He's also, frankly, waiting for the other shoe to drop, likely in the form of a laconic dumping.

The shoe doesn't drop. The relationship holds. It's shaken, a bit, when Kakashi reveals his face with a moment of gravitas that rings a thousand alarm bells in Iruka's mind over an imminent break up. Which he admits out loud, a bit hysterical with relief.

On that day, he sees the sheepish tilt of Kakashi's lips--his bare lips!--give way to a cold, toothless sneer. Then the whole thing is masked up again.

''If you believe it so fragile, I don’t think we’re on the same page regarding this relationship,'' Kakashi says, going on the offensive as he so often does when upset by an unfair assessment of his character.

Luckily for Iruka, because it sets him right back on track.

''Oh grow up, Kakashi, you don't have a monopoly on insecurity. Now show me again, so I can be smug about it when people speculate.''

Things go smoother after that and Iruka’s now blessed with the bare sight of those sharp, high cheekbones and thin lips on a regular basis.

Anyway, Iruka had way too much going on in their early relationship to notice the subtler details.

''What are you thinking about?" Kakashi asks, dipping his head on his way to the kitchen to briefly trail his nose over Iruka's nape.

It tickles a shudder out of Iruka. The flash of Kakashi's smug grin as he turns away says that hasn't gone unnoticed.

''How much of a pissbaby you can be,'' Iruka replies, still half a mind on his spreadsheet of the Academy's budget for the next semester.

The following bark of laughter is muffled by the fridge, but only barely. ''What now?"

"Oh, Iruka ,'' Iruka starts with great sarcasm, ''if you haven't picked names for the four hundred fifty nine ninken we’re gonna adopt or started to look into houses for us to move in, you must not be serious about me.''

''Oh, grow-up,'' Kakashi says good-naturedly, plopping beside him at the kotatsu. One steaming mug he sets on the table, the other he keeps in his cupped hands lowered on his lap. The smell of masala chai is quick to carry over.

''Thanks,'' Iruka says, sipping from the one that was left for him.

''Hm-hm.''

The solid heat of Kakashi's body sinks bit by bit into him, with something sleepy and languid to his posture. His nose finds its way to the hollow between Iruka's neck and shoulder.

With a huff, Iruka switches his drink to his other hand so he can ease his left arm in an inviting arch that Kakashi is quick to lean into. The nose, though, stays put.

''I still can't believe you're a cuddler,'' Iruka snickers gently, broad hand drawing swipes over Kakashi's flank.

''You'd best believe it,'' Kakashi mumbles with suspiciously accurate inflections. He rubs his face against Iruka, who briefly presses back with his lower jaw before resuming his accounting.

Tries not to get distracted by the intermittent nuzzling.

''Are you smelling me?" he ultimately asks, feeling amused in that fond way that makes his chest ache.

''Yes.''

''All right, then.''

''Do you mind?"

''Just don't tickle me, I've got to concentrate. I need to be convincing so the Hokage approves my new budget.''

Burrowing even deeper, Kakashi nudges past the neck of Iruka's shirt to where the collarbone emerges from the generous muscle padding of his shoulder, right at the base of his throat.

''I'm sure you'll do fine," he murmurs with some humor.

And then he settles, dozing off to the warmth of Iruka’s scent.

It’s one of the quirks Iruka notices, now, and that he cherishes.

He tucks Kakashi's drink away before it spills from hands gone lax--though not without stealing some, just for the sake of wincing at the unsweetened taste of it--and hugs him closer, poring over dreadfully boring numbers to the soft snuffling of his companion.

And if he sometimes pauses just long enough to breathe from the spiky hair within reach, well, Kakashi doesn't have a leg to stand on on such matters.

#my scrawl #kakairu #umino iruka #hatake kakashi/umino iruka #hatake kakashi #kkir #naruto

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