#*in character

【 arashi / @fatelied 】

knife in hand, his grip around the handle is tight enough that it's draining the color from his knuckles. “ oh, I can make them stop now, can I? ain’t that something. ” his tone is dry, a crooked smile briefly tugging at the corners of his lips before his face falls neutral again.

he seriously doubted that he actually could get his family to stop, even if he wanted to. hell, he couldn’t even keep nubbins out of that damn graveyard. and drayton? he’d lose his shit at the mere suggestion of being the one taking orders instead of giving them (that didn’t stop johnny from barkin’ back at the old man when the mood hit, though).

(Description: A chubby green slimefolk with a custom made great-axe. While technically royalty, he lives in the woods to avoid his princely duties, because... It's boring as shit. )

Allies (sorta):

@the-arcade-doctor (the big scary (attractive*) psycho was nice to him, so now they are best friends)

@cow-stealin-gal (cus fren :) also because they are the reason they got the materials for the axe canonically)

@draco-the-chaos-quetzal (see above, but replace axe with armor)

@the-fort-official (no shit he is literally just another version. Of course he would be allies with a faction of himself, but cooler)

@the-jester-doc (he was supposed to work for the jester guy, but someone fucked up while writing that scene and now he and jota are buddies)

And some other ones.

Enemies:

@withouteeth​​ said: “ do you know what i've done ? what i would do again if given the chance ? ”

Stray cub, where is your pack? Mikoto had played witness to more than her fair share of orphaned, bruised and lost things, but motherhood had brought complacency as well as sons, the Uchiha compound a buffer between her and the world beyond the reach of its bloodlines, her home a respite from the death beneath her nails. Even trips to clan territories now were sterile compared to the muddied chaos of the great lands before her retirement, before the war was won. 

She had softened against the world’s cruelties; her heart wilted at the sight of a boy no older than her own heir, poorly fed and poorly clothed, pawing his way through her bag of Sora-Ku blades and garrote wire and accelerants (a birthday present for Itachi, who was going through his village grade weapons faster than he did shoes) at dawn’s break. The child was blessed it was only her here, for other Uchiha may not have been so assiduous as to see the face of their thief before executing them. 

The matriarch was gentle in her approach, her locutions, her inquiries, and opened a bento with slow, slow movements, listening to his declarations with the patience only a mother could have. Abandoned children are as skittish as kicked dogs, she remembered, I must not frighten him any more than he already is.

“I do not... But as a shinobi, I am no saint, little one. I would not pass judgement on your sins even if I did,” Mikoto assured, cadences low and casual as if they were neither strangers or having a strange conversation. An onigiri is offered upon an outstretched pale palm, her other hand resting upon the top of her thigh to prove her lack of throat-slitting intent. “Would you like one?”

Héctor was just as confused when his great-great-grandson could suddenly see him; but simultaneously, he couldn’t have been happier. It was so nice to talk to him again, and to see the rest of the family, his old home, as well. Perhaps it would be nice if Miguel could show him what had changed over all the years he’d been gone for.

❝Alright Mijo, lead the way!❞

【 arashi / @roomee】

Héctor sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. An amazing idea usually meant trouble for him; but how could he possibly deny this niño’s wish when his face lit up like this?

❝What’s your plan, mijo?❞