This tumblr is going to be used for a little bit of everything, from my love to music, anime, horror, rp, as well as future post and updates to fan fictions url to come later
So I’m hella excited over the third season coming I just pray we get some more of Din’s feelings about his past, so I finally drew this little thing I’ve been thinking about for a while ;v;
I firmly believe wearing a helmet for your whole life is no reason to not style yourself like you want, so let Din have a mustache if he wants™!, but also I like to think he looks at himself on the mirror and can’t help but think of his dad :’) so he keeps the mustache.
Also pls let Din adopt Grogu and show him his face when they’re alone!!!!
Notes: Gender neutral MC || Feral Tomoe (???) || Why is it that every time I try and write something for Mizuki is just turns into a Tomoe comfort fic??? Bruh, just let me write for my boy!
"Were you crying?" The worry was evident in his voice as you turned your face away from his narrowed eyes.
"No-" The feeling of his fingers taking your chin into his hand- not quite forcefully but with a distinct pressure that told you not to go against his actions- was followed by your eyes, the skin around them irritated and probably slightly swollen, meeting his as he turned your face back into his line of vision, muted purple eyes demanding- for lack of a better word- your attention.
The frown that settled on his lips had your eyes darting away from his expression, occupying themselves with anything else that you could find before the utterance of your name, garnering your attention, had you shrinking back into yourself slightly, still doing as you was silently ordered to do and looking Tomoe in the eyes again. Well, as well as you could.
His hand cradled your face and his thumb lightly brushed over the slightly swollen patch under your eye from your incessant rubbing at it- soft and comforting in contrast to his eyes which held an ice cold enough to freeze you in place had you not know that it wasn't directed at you.
In the silence, the unsaid question was posed and left to hang in the air and you sucked in a breath, leaning into his touch as if to reassure yourself.
'Why were you- or who made you start- crying?'
While the slight tinge of fear in the back of your mind pricked at you, there was no one to blame for your current (well, previous) state of distress other than your own over estimation of your limits so there was no need to fear for anyone's wellbeing. Other than perhaps your own.
"I just overloaded myself, is all. I took on more work than I was actually able to handle and I just... Got overwhelmed in the end." I'm hindsight, it really hadn't been the best idea to take up a fair chunk of a very much immortal and much more experienced yokai but you hadn't really thought that far ahead before hand.
Furrowed brows and the sight of something akin to realisation in his eyes made you shy away from his eyes yet again.
He'd probably gotten annoyed with this back and forth, push and pull, at this point so you soon found yourself being pulled towards him, held against his chest by strong, familiar arms.
His sigh was clearly laced with annoyance, most likely directed at you this time.
"How many times will I have to remind you not to overwork yourself?"
"I know! I know... It's just- you've been getting so much more paper work recently and you already have a habit of neglecting your health. I just wanted to make sure that you had time to yourself." You messed around with some of the fabric of his clothing as you used the fact that you had been pulled into his chest as a reason not to look up at him to see what you assumed was an exasperated expression as it so often was with Tomoe.
Another sigh, this time followed by a kiss to the top of your head and the words "Don't be so foolish. You don't need to worry about me so much" whispered against your hair.
Something neat from the archives that might be of interest to all the Papa III and lore enthusiasts out there. The text was part of the promotional materials for Meliora sent out to media by the label. Words by Peter Bebergal.
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Papa Emeritus III. A prologue and introduction
A decadent and hash-addicted poet once wrote, “What matters an eternity of damnation to someone who has found in one second the infinity of joy?” This is the only choice that matters. The devil’s fall came only after his great rebellion, a single and simple act of looking into the face of authority and saying, “I am glorious.” This was Satan’s ecstasy, but he embraced it knowing the punishment. Are you ready then, to join Papa Emeritus III in the pit, to proclaim your own splendor, feeling your wings melt as the last breath of the exclamation leaves your mouth?
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