I Just Found Out That Kirsch Vermilion

I love this fic

DAY 1 - Folklore, Fantasy, & Myth

“Then let’s make a deal,” Tobirama said “You participate in the games, and I don’t take your brother to the underworld until the day after they’re done.”

Madara was still staring at the god, mouth agape.

On Ao3

Tobirama was pissed. His older brother's whining coupled with Kawarama and Itama's tries at cheering him up were grating on his nerves, as well as the thought that for once he had trusted Hashirama to not put himself in trouble if left to his own devices and he had been wrong… 

But what he really couldn't stand was the memory of their father's face, impassible yet impossibly smug when, looking up to the mortal realm, he saw Hashirama's champion for the games.

The games. The idiotic games that saw the faithful to the God of Nature, his older brother, face against the faithful of the God of Death, his father. The humans seemed to believe that athletic pursuits were the best way to honor the conflict that saw the God of Nature dethrone his father and relegate him in the afterworld, thus gaining the title as God of the Gods. No god has ever divined why they thought that. In the Heavenly Planes every occurrence was sheer chaos and Tobirama, as the Messenger God Hiraishin, got the dubious honor of carrying the progressively more aggressive messages exchanged between his father and his brother, both banned from each other's realms.

But maybe that excruciatingly taxing ordeal had been yet another way devised by Fate for making him pay for being the one to trick his own father into his downfall. Because the one time he lets the two of them talk directly, his idiot older brother makes a bet: whoever wins the games gets a favor from the other. Which means their father could ask for anything, were he to win, Tobirama had pissedly pointed out when the idiot had told him. But Hashirama had laughed it off, because "Don't worry, my dear brother, my current champion is the strongest I've ever had, a man of honor who prays truly and yet doesn't rely on my benevolence. He’s hearty as an ox and strong as a lion. All in all, a great man!".

A great man, for sure, but one that is nowhere to be seen! thought Tobirama angrily while watching the substitute, a youngster who was hardly exceptional in any way, get ready for the games that were to start in the morning.

"I'm so sorry, little brothers!" cried Hashirama, now completely trapped in one of his gloomy moods. "I was so sure he'd come, he's always been so diligent about his religious duties..!"

"That's not the point!" Tobirama barked back, pulled from his observations of the lands below. "He's a human. Humans die with a whiff of wind, with nothing really! They're totally unreliable to us gods!"

"But he's not dead! Right?"

His older brother does him the favor of shutting it when Tobirama glares at him. But Hashirama does have a point, he thinks, turning his attention back on the humans. Tobirama had checked on the champion, Madara, in the days following the bet, and he was sure that the man's soul hadn't been carted to the underworld as he, the Psychopomp God Hiraishin, was the one who escorted the souls of the dead. And he had looked out for it, for Madara's soul, because he had totally been ready to cheat to make sure their father didn't win, because that would be a disaster. He could ask for anything and Hashirama was bound to do it. All they had fought for in their war against their father, all they'd lost; all Tobirama had sacrificed - his old domains, with the waters and the wars and the thunder that still remains in his namesake, and his honor, because since the war he has become Hiraishin, the Liar God. All in vain, lost in less than half an eon.

And all his work in preventing the man’s death had been for nothing too, apparently, because Hashirama's oh so dutiful, unbeatable champion had disappeared without dying. But not on Tobirama's watch. The games began at dawn and the sun had just set: that was plenty of time for him to try a little trick or twenty.

His mind made up, Tobirama left the view on the human realm and moved to leave.

"Whatever, I'll take care of this mess," he said as a goodbye. All of his brothers, even Hashirama, suddenly looked at him in alarm. Itama opened his mouth, face set as if to try and talk some sense into him, while Kawarama jumped up after him to physically catch him, but he evaded them both with ease. He was, after all, Hiraishin, the Fastest God.

In the seconds it took Tobirama to leave the Heavenly Planes he already had a thousand plans vorticating in his mind, but he settled on one just as fast.

It's night. Humans naturally sleep at night. Tobirama, as the Messenger God, was also the one who brought humans the dreams the God of Sleep paints for them. And he highly doubted that anyone would resent him if, for this once, he hijacked one to talk some sense in the traitorous champion.

So he waited, checking the innumerable dreams that passed through his hands until finally the right spark caught his attention. It was the middle of the night already, way later than the usual time mortals allowed themselves to sleep, so Tobirama didn’t hesitate to follow the dream to its intended recipient at top speed.

He barged in a bedroom, neither small nor particularly spacious, lighted by a single candle’s flame that made the shadows shift and jump and bathed the space in a soft warm light. Two men occupied the room: one was sleeping in the only bed, while the other was sitting on the floor with his head lying awkwardly on the edge of the mattress, face scowling in his repose as if offended by how sleep had taken him by surprise.

That one was Tobirama’s target. Scowling himself, Tobirama caught the spark of dream between his thumb and index finger and flicked it at the man’s face.

Immediately, Madara began waking, lifting his head as he tried and failed to keep his eyes open when faced with the silver light Tobirama knew mortals saw him emanate. When the errant champions finally got accustomed to the brightness, his eyes settled first on the wings on Tobirama’s sandals, floating on a level with his gaze, and then shot to the god’s face as the man blanched visibly. 

“No,” Madara whispered, wide eyes full of terror. Tobirama refrained from narrowing his eyes just barely, because while he’s not known to be particularly benevolent, Hiraishin isn’t known as malignant either, so that reaction was definitely out of proportion. He waited in severe silence as the champion glanced at the bed and then shifted in a bow, joining his hands together in prayer.

“Please, it’s too soon,” the man begged desperately. “Nature temple’s priest said he still has at least two days to live, and she’s praying for his health at this very moment. Please wait. It’s still too soon. Please…”

Now that he was paying attention, Tobirama easily noticed that the room was pervaded by the phantom of violence and illness, emanating from the other mortal. Tobirama took in his wounded side and mauled eyes under carefully applied bandages, as pieces of the puzzle began clicking together in his mind.

“I see,” he answered evenly. “He was attacked, right? Why?”

“I don’t know,” Madara growled, voice full of grief and barely concealed anger. “The attackers arrived at the market the day before yesterday. They didn’t speak to anyone and didn’t buy anything. Then they attacked my brother without cause and ran, and their corpses were found a couple hours later just outside the city. Nobody recognized them, least of all Izuna.”

“And how did they die?” Tobirama asked, already knowing the answer, but preferring to be throughout.

“The healers don’t know, but there were no wounds on their body.”

Tobirama ummed, tilting his head to the side. Honestly it wasn’t a surprise that Father would move to make sure that he won the bet - Tobirama had learned how to behave underhandedly somewhere after all. However, he would have expected something less straightforward than this, and also better executed, though he had manage to pass under all of their notice.

Tobirama reached for the sleeping man, intent on checking the injuries himself even if he wasn’t much of a medic, but Madara’s hand caught his wrist before he could touch him.

“Please, he’s dearly beloved by everyone, and so kind. Don’t take him yet,” the insolent mortal begged. His fear of angering a god was obvious in the way his face had lost all color, but the grip on Tobirama’s wrist remained strong and his black eyes held a desperate determination that showed that he would fight, even knowing that he’d lose, if it meant giving his brother a chance.

“If you don’t want both your brother and yourself to become pitiful mortal pulp you will unhand me right now,” Tobirama commanded. Madara held on for a few more moments before freeing the god to capture Izuna’s hand instead.

Tobirama studied this unusual mortal as he stared back with lucid but burning eyes. Stocky but not ungraceful, obviously strong, imposing, with a handsome mane of black hair and healthy skin. He was past the age of beauty that gods maintained for their whole existence, but more entertaining because of it, with laugh lines and a wrinkle between well-defined eyebrows. In one word, interesting.

“You’re right,” he finally said, “now is not his time, but soon it will be.”

Madara tried to answer, but Tobirama caught his chin with one hand, stunning him into silence before he could respond unwisely.

“You stepped down from champion for the games because you want to be at your brother’s side for his last hours, is that correct?” he asked.

Madara nodded, his head bobbing in Tobirama’s hand.

“Then let’s make a deal,” he continued. “You participate in the games, and I don’t take your brother to the underworld until the day after they’re done. If you lose, you gain him a couple more days to live, but if you win, I’ll heal him to the best of my ability and make sure that he survives his wounds.”

Madara was still staring at him, mouth agape. 

“Why are you offering me this?” he asked, voice a broken whisper.

“Don’t concern yourself with the motives of gods,” Tobirama answered, wiping away the first tear of relief falling from Madara’s beautiful eyes. “Do you accept my offer, then?”

“Yes,” he breathed, and this time when he gripped Tobirama’s wrists the god didn’t reprimand him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you…” Madara repeated and then, with renewed fire in his eyes wet with tears, he kissed the palm of Tobirama’s hand still holding his face.

Well, far be it from me to turn down such a show of gratitude, Tobirama thought and crouched down for a kiss of his own.

“It’s not fair..!” Hashirama cried after the games, watching the mortal world from the Heavenly Planes. “I am the god of medicine!”

“Stop whining, brother!” Tobirama snapped half-heartedly, while Itama and Kawarama both snickered at their brother’s antics.

“No! You have so many domains already, but I only have two. Why did you have to steal it?”

“Technically life and nature count as different domains, so you actually have three,” Itama popped in, always the mediator. “Also, Tobirama only gained jurisdiction on recovering from wounds, so you still have power over healing from illness and such.”

“Yeah, brother, you only have to share!” Kawarama teased, and then cackled at Hashirama’s resulting whine.

“But why-”

“Well maybe this time you will finally learn,” Tobirama cut in, talking over his idiot older brother useless grumbles, “ and never, ever gamble again, brother.”

“But I-” Hashirama began to say before Tobirama cut him off again.

“I don’t want to hear it!” Tobirama roared. “Your luck is abysmal! When you bet, you lose, and even when you miraculously win a bet, you manage to lose something else still! Be glad that I only took part of your domain and learn your lesson.”

Hashirama sulked, pouting in a way unbecoming for gods, let alone their king.“...you also stole my champion,” he added with a defeated grumble.

Tobirama smiled smugly at that, remembering Madara’s gratitude on the night they met, as well at their own private celebration after the man had won the games and Tobirama had healed Izuna. Truly strong as a lion and hearty as an ox, Tobirama had to give his brother that.

“I didn’t steal him,” he said nonchalantly, “he came to me all on his own. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a mortal to meet.”

He left, surrounded by his brothers’ spluttering.

-

-

@madatobiweek2022 <3

My headcanons about Dick Grayson

Dick is touched starved.

Think about it he grew up in a circus, that he considered family, when he was little he always got physical affection and after he was adopted by Bruce he still got some(because lets face it Bruce was a softie for Dick when he was Robin) though a lot less because Bruce isn't a touchy person, but after being fired and going solo he had a lot less physical affection from his loved ones(especially when he had a "falling out" with the Titans and YJ). I think over time he became touched starved, thats why he gives bear hugs and is more affectionate to everyone. AlsoI think it got slightly better when he was Batman and had his Robin. That's why Damian is more clingy with him and allows Dicks affection (He also knows when not to touch)(Also you can't convince me Dick isn't Damians favourite person and that they don't share a father-son relationship (mentor-student, older brother-younger brother, hero-sidekick, hero-fan all of these also aply))

Dick is still angry with Bruce about a lot of things.

How he took away Robin. How he dared give it away without his notice or permission. How he made Robin into a mantle. How he found out he took in Jason and gave him Robin from a newspaper. How he failed Jason and then blamed him. How he didn't say that Jason died. How he wasn't even invited to his funeral. How he kept secret that Jason was alive. How he used a batarang on Jason, almost killing him again, instead of Joker. How he treated Damian when he first came here and sometimes even now. How he purposely separated him from Damian, because he was jealous (of their father-son relationship). How Bruce beat him into submission to join Spyral. How that wasn't the first time Bruce hit him. How Bruce never made a backup plan to extract him from Spyral. How Bruce forgot(got amnesia) him in Spyral. How he lied to his siblings that he went along willingly with it. (If you can't tell I like Angry Dick Grayson fics)

‌Dick and Slade are frenemies.

Basically as long as Dick doesn't interfere with his jobs, they are close friends, but as soon as he interferes they don't hold back from lethal force. I know Slade kidnapped him and kinda tortured him and Dick was obsessed with him to the point of insanity, BUT they both obsessed over one another so much that they know eachother the best and after a while they sorta lost their motivation to constantly fight(though spars are still fair game, the only rule is the other doesn't die) eachother. So now they meet up monthly to bitch and complain about their lives and gossip like old ladies, with some alcohol on a random rooftop. They are the embodiment of don't mix business with pleasure, when they meet on one of Slades jobs they pull out all stops and fight viciously, mercilessly and brutally, but the next day(night?) Slade comes over with the good whiskey and they spend their night watching the rom-coms, because Dick thinks it's funny to force the Terminator to watch them and because he's endlessly amused when Slade actually gets invested in it.

Dick Grayson taught Damian.

About the Romani language/culture, acrobatics, trapeze, circus, travel, all the recipes of Romani dishes that he knows, Romani stories, Robin tricks, stories, secrets (By Romani culture Damian is his son and they both decided to keep that a secret from the others, btw he also learned about Damians Arabic traditions, foods, language). I think that Damian values this more than his inheritance as an Al-Ghul and Wayne, because Dick chose to give his culture and inheritance to him, not because he was obliged to.

...So you seemed to like my rant's/headcanon's *throws cautiously some more headcanons in your direction*... have some more?

P.S. Someone pointed out that there are a lot of canon in the last post instead of headcanon's, but I read so little of the comics that I can't really tell whats canon and whats not.

Been scrolling saw this and reposted. Maybe it will help someone. Certainly helped me know theres even an option to report this stuff.

Listen up!

You see a post like this? Where OP might hurt/kill themselves? You hit that button that I circled

Hit that.

Click Suicide or Self-harm Concern

Yes.

Fill in the rest of it, and hit submit. The "content you reported" will fill itself in

Tumblr will follow up and help them.

Warning: this is only for mobile. If anyone knows how to do this for desktop, please add it!

This could SAVE SOMEONE'S LIFE.

YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE NOT TO REBLOG THIS.

I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF IT DOESN'T GO WITH YOUR BLOG'S THEME.

And yes, REBLOG. Liking does no shit at all. This isn't ig.

You reblog, people see it. You don't, people don't see it. This shit's that simple.

This could save someone's life. It's not a joke.

If somebody hasn't read this TobiNaru Masterpiece (with a capital M).

They should.

Like drop everything and read this.

NOW.

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13515082/1/

Punkflower is everything. I am painstakingly waiting for more fics, but if there aren't more soon imma take things into my own hands

hobie’s seen some of miles’ graffiti work and took interest in it himself, so one day he asks miles if he could spray paint a spider on one of his plain tees to give it pizazz.

usually, miles isn’t really worried about his graffiti art being perfect; but this time it’s different. hobie’s cool as hell, what if he doesn’t like the finished product? that’d destroy his ego.

so he’s been circling around the t-shirt that laid on the floor, shaking a can of black spray paint for about ten minutes now. it was simple, really; all he needed to do was a circle and then the spider on the inside, but he couldn’t bring himself to start just yet, because what if the circle comes out lopsided, or he doesn’t make the spider big enough to fit four legs on each side?

it didn’t really help that hobie leaned against the wall in front of miles, observing miles circle around like a nervous mess.

“miles.. you good?”

“huh?”

“you’ve been doing..” unsure of what to call it, hobie motions with his hand, “this, for the past ten minutes. do you like.. need some inspo?”

“oh no, it’s not that, it’s just..” he isn’t sure how to cover it up, so he just is honest, “i don’t wanna mess it up, it’s gotta look nice.”

“it’s fine, no big deal if it’s messy.”

“you sure?” miles stops his pacing, looking down at the blue tee. it was modified, the collar and bottom hem messily torn off to fit hobie’s style more, and now miles felt a bit stupid for overthinking his craft; hobie was all about messy!

“yeah, the shirt don’t got any sentimental value for me yet, so i’m not gonna get mad if you absolutely fuck up the spider.” hobie shrugs.

miles raises a brow. “yet?” he’s really curious about what that means, and even finds himself hoping it means what he thinks it does.

he totally isn’t sure why though, of course.

“yeah, right now this shirt is just like, basic.” hobie starts, and miles doesn’t realize it but his voice gets a bit softer. “it doesn’t really have a meaning, but once you give it your touch it gets its value, because it’s your craft that you’re giving to me, y’know?”

there’s a lot more that hobie wanted to say, but he couldn’t get the courage to do it. he realizes he kind of went off on a tangent, and possibly annoyed miles, if it weren’t for the wide eyed look on the boy’s face. “sorry, that was a bit too much.” he grimaces.

“oh, oh no, it’s fine!” miles reassures the other, a smile on his face. “i appreciate your appreciation a lot.”

he shakes the can of spray paint, a hint of determination in his eyes as he looks at the tee once more.

IT’S NOT ‘PEEKED’ MY INTEREST

OR ‘PEAKED’

BUT PIQUED

‘PIQUED MY INTEREST’

THIS HAS BEEN A CAPSLOCK PSA

Guys I was reading One Piece trivia when the topic of least favorite food came up. AND GUESS WHAT THE FOOD IS FOR ZORO!!!

Chocolate it's fuking CHOCOLATE!!!

You remember the little girl who made onigiri for him when Luffy first saw him. Do you remember what was the onigiri filling?!?! Come on take a guess! IT'S CHOCOLATE!!

Anytime I learn about Zoro being kinder than it looked at first glance I melt

Praise Oda for this magnificent wonderfull directionally challenged creature

Now my mom can't tell me walking around in just a bedsheet in the house is indecent. No, mom, it's my ancient civilization cosplay!! You wouldn't get it!

Costume. Chitons.

Hey I got this idea that I needed to share.

So what if aliens find out about Florida man. They are already terrified of humans and then they find out there is a whole state of humans who are more crazy/terrifying/unhinged than your normal human. I like to imagine that Florida humans are contained to Earth by law, because it would scare other species to much.

I need to remember this when thinking about a ship I wanna write about

OTP Questions MASTERLIST

updated 18.01.22

Who’s the primary protector of the two?

Who sleeps in and who is the early bird?

Who is the least patient?

Which of the two listens to old music and which one is more into the newer stuff?

Who’s the first one to quit a new hobby because they’re not great at it on the first try?

Who holds a grudge the longest?

Who secretly knows all the lyrics to the other’s favorite songs but refuses to expose themselves?

Who’s more likely to cry about a plant dying?

Which of the two is the most outspoken?

Which of the two is quick to speak and which one is quick to listen?

Who’s the most eager to have kids?

Which of the two rolls their eyes the most often?

Who’s an open book and which one is more reserved?

Who gets the most invested in their hyperfixations?

Who’s into Eurovision?

Which one’s the first to help a stranger in need?

Who’s had the same pair of jeans for years and refuses to change them out?

Which of the two is the most gullible?

Which of the two acts bothered by the other one but secretly enjoys every second of it?

Who’s more likely to get into a bar fight?

Who’s the optimist and who’s the pessimist?

Who gets more easily embarrassed?

Which of the two would you rather team up with for a game of laser tag?

Who gets a little too invested in board games?

Which of the two is more likely to take care of the other’s elderly parents?

Which of the two is more likely to stand out in a crowd?

Who will be the one baking banana bread on a Sunday after a week of complete mayhem?

Who brings CapriSun to a frat party?

Who’s the designated driver?

Who sugarcoats and who shoots it straight?

Who insists they’re the best at everything and who lets them believe it?

Who’s the first to apologize?

Who takes on boring tasks around the house so the other person doesn’t have to do them?

Who’s the more skeptical of the two?

Who picks up languages faster?

Who’s better at dealing with emotional trauma?

Who’s more foulmouthed?

Who’s more in touch with internet culture? Alternatively, if they live in a world where the internet doesn’t exist, who would be more in touch with it if it did exist in their world?

Which of the two is more artistic?

Who’ll be the first to snap if someone makes a bad comment about the other person?

Who’s the most self-aware?

Who has the most self-control?

Which of the two would be more likely to make a family album with physical pictures?

Who would confess their love first?

Who gets most excited about holidays? e.g. Christmas

Who gets most intense during a fight?

Who’s the cheapest?

Who’d refuse to pay the others bail just to mess with them?

Who’s the most concerned about details and semantics and who doesn’t care at all?

Who invites the other to dance for the first time?

Who overthinks the most?

Who whines the most when they get sick?

Who’s the most ambitious?

Who’s the most likely to get stage fright?

Who’s the best cook?

Which of the two is the most competitive?

Who’s got the highest pain tolerance?

Who’s the most fashionable?

Who’s the most stubborn?

Who’s the most childish?

Who’s the best at throwing axes?

Who’s more likely to buy some stupid NFT just because it looks cool or cute?

Whose grammar is so bad it’s a miracle they graduated 5th grade?

Who starts gearing up for Christmas first?

Who’s got the most scars (physically)?

Who would survive the longest in the wild?

Who’s the most spiteful?

Which of the two would you choose to be stuck with in an emergency situation?

Who’s the most likely to hurt the other’s feelings unintentionally?

Which of the two has the most dominant traits, aka., which of the two would their child end up resembling the most?

Who makes their bed in the morning and who's more of a slob?

Who'll be caught saying "rules are made to be broken"?

Whose hobbies/interests change every 2-5 business days?

Who'd be able not to talk for the longest?

Whose I-Hate-Everything-And-Everyone teenage phase was the most intense/lasted the longest?

Who'd take the gingerbread house decorating contest just a little too seriously?

Who's more likely to execute their threats?

Who has the more embarrassing Spotify Wrapped? + Give a run-down of each character's Spotify Wrapped, in as much or little detail as you want.

Who's the most likely to take a bribe? Who has the hardest time finishing a train of thought because they get distracted by a million other things along the way?