#( violet cooke interactions )

[rubywolf0201]

The Way Home storyline, despite the player characters friends interacting for a short amount of time has to be my favourite storyline due to how cooperative, charming and funny they are. I especially like Penny and Arven's interactions with one another btw and when it comes to Nemona, they and the player have to keep her battle tendencies in check.

Also, Miraidon is a little awesome meow-meow. Going from being scared of its bully (who was its source of trauma) to confronting it due to the huge amount of support the player and their friends have given to it.

[antihcroes]

open starter: my tears ricochet open to: anyone

"and i can go anywhere i want, just not home."

[slaybestieslay946]

omg I LOVED the dad!luke one you did!! I was wondering if you could do another future au with Poseidon daughter!reader? Maybe like Percy visiting is (half) nieces and nephews?

thanks sm for your request!! this is such a cute idea i hope i did it justice!

MASTERLIST

Blue Pasta

word count: 900

pairing: luke castellan x poseidon!reader

warnings: none!

a/n: down horrendous for luke cooking like OMFGG

“Luke, Y/N, we’re here!” A chirpy voice called out from the hall, and almost immediately you could hear the sounds of scurrying feet and paws rushing to meet the two demigods. 

You abandoned your spot on the sofa to walk down the hall, smiling as you watched your brother interact with his nephew. You  knew you should probably go and save Percy from the attack of your young son and a labrador, but the sight was just too adorable. 

Annabeth quickly noticed your presence, grinning brightly as she stepped towards you, wrapping her arms around your middle for a hug, just like she had when she was a kid. Now she was just as tall as you, but still hugging you like she was ten. 

“How’ve you been?” She asked, stepping away. 

“Busy.” You laughed, “Apparently the second one’s supposed to be easier. Complete lie.” 

She laughed in return, and it appeared Percy only just noticed you were standing right there, letting go of James for a moment to greet you. 

“Is this really how you treat your only sister?” You remarked, looking sternly up at him. 

“Sorry, but we all know I prefer hanging out with James.” He shrugged, and the young boy giggled mischievously from beside him. 

“Yes, yes I know.” You then began to move back down the hallway, unable to tame your smile at the sound of your brother entertaining his nephew. He’d make a great dad someday, you were sure of it. 

As you entered the kitchen, you couldn’t help but break into an even wider smile at the sight of your husband, wearing a stupid apron you’d gotten him that said, “I love my wife.” 

When he caught sight of you all, he put down the bowl of cake mix he was holding and stepped around the kitchen counter, holding out his arms to embrace Annabeth, the girl he called his younger sister. 

You watched as he gave her a quick squeeze on the shoulder before moving onto Percy. 

“Hey Perce.” He said, tugging your brother in for a hug by his outstretched hand and clapping him on the back. 

“Good to see you man.” Percy responded, before looking down at his apron, “Damn, she’s got you whipped hasn’t she?” 

“Damn right.” Luke declared, moving over to pull you into his side and plant a kiss into your hair.

He then returned to his baking, and all the adults stood for a while in the kitchen, conversing about one thing or the next. Annabeth’s new job, James’ school, typical ‘adult stuff’ that your son didn’t find particularly enthusing. 

You spotted him whispering to Percy about how they should go out and play in the garden. The pair then turned to you for permission, to which you rolled your eyes before nodding. 

You decided to follow after them, leaving Annabeth and Luke to catch up in the kitchen. You then picked up Violet from her cot and slipped on your garden shoes and entered the warm spring air.

Your brother and his nephew were in the centre of the small garden, kicking around a football and playfully attempting to score against one another. Percy kept up a running commentary the whole time, his little jokes here and there never failing to make James laugh. He also peppered in bits of praise about the boy's skill, leading your son onto a long rant about what he had learned in soccer practice that week. 

Percy nodded along, asking questions animatedly, and you could tell he really did care. It warmed your heart to watch, and sometimes you wondered how you had all ended up here, able to carve out a space for yourselves after such troubled beginnings. 

You and Luke had started a family, Percy was training to become a teacher, and Annabeth was on her way to becoming a world-renowned architect. Somehow, everything had worked out the way it was supposed to. 

Eventually the two boys tired of their games, James slumping down on the grass to catch his breath, and Percy coming to sit beside you. 

“Hey.” He said quietly, looking down at Violet almost in awe. 

“You wanna hold her?” You offered, holding out the bundle in your arms. 

He nodded quickly, taking her off you and cradling her in his arms. 

“She looks so much like you.” He whispered, rocking the girl quietly, not taking his eyes off her tiny face.

You’d never really thought about it before, but he was right. You could tell James was Luke’s, that curly brown hair was almost unmistakeable, but looking at her now it was so clear that Violet was yours. She had the same eyes that you saw in the mirror everyday. 

You turned back to Percy, who had tears in his eyes, and from the look on his face you could tell it was from pride, pride that him and his sister had managed to carve out these lives for themselves. 

“Are you about to cry on me, Perce?” You asked, not unkindly. 

“Nope!” He laughed, shaking his head. 

You looked back at your little brother, the one you had welcomed into cabin 3 all those years ago, the one you would die for in a heartbeat, and the one that would do the same for his family, and you knew you also felt so much pride. 

“C’mon.” You nudged, brushing away the tears in your own eyes, “It’s time for dinner. I got Luke to make blue pasta for you specially.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Members Only 1

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, cheating, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

“Tommy knows the owner,” Grace trills as she leads you upstairs, “he’s around here somewhere, I’m sure.” 

“Right,” you follow her up into the violet-tinted lighting of the private room, “Mr. Shelby must know a lot of people.” 

“Mm, yes, that is the upside of our marriage. There isn’t a single restaurant or shop in this city where they don’t know his name,” she boasts as you stop at the door and she struts across to the slender bar. She hums, a hint of disapproval in her tone, and she pops the cork of the bottle. “That and the drinks.” 

She catches the foam from the neck in her mouth, her lipstick staining the torn edge of the golden seal. She gulps and puts the bottle down, blotting her lips with her knuckles. She turns and strolls around the curved sofa and looks through the windows that peer into the flashing club. 

“Pour me a glass,” she demands, “it isn’t my brand but good enough.” 

You obey. Mrs. Shelby is very precise in what she wants. She never leaves you in need of further directive. Your previous employer often expected you to know what they wanted without saying so. That stint did not last very long. 

The private room is decorated in silver and gold banners, vases filled with matching confetti, and an ivory cake with a big ‘40’ mounted on top. The decor clashes with the rest of the club. This isn’t a refined venue, it’s a place where coeds come to wile away their weekends. 

You fill a stemmed glass with champagne and bring it to Grace as she toys with a pale blonde wave. She is a pretty woman. She has all the elegance her name would suggest. Still, there is a staunchness to her that keeps you diligent. 

“Hmm, I do wonder why my husband is so fond of this place,” she tuts, “though I might guess it.” 

You peer down at the writhing bodies dancing below. Skimp skirts, crop tops, flirty moves; it isn’t your sort of place and you didn’t think it was hers either. She turns and struts away, sitting on the sofa to nurse her champagne flute. You turn to face her, staying by the windowed wall. 

“I won’t complain. Charlotte will appreciate the effort. It might even bring back a few memories for her,” Grace continues on, twirling the glass between her fingers. “The rest of the ladies should be content enough with the champagne and—oh my, please, go to the kitchen and inquire after the appetizers. I was promised brie and crustinis.” 

She sighs as you move for the door and she slurps loudly. As you reach the door, you hear her mutter, “...ever trust him...” 

You leave her there, wallowing with her golden nectar. It is no secret that the Shelby’s are facing marital woes. Even beyond the scope of Mrs. Shelby’s personal assistant, it’s obvious. Their last dinner party erupted in an argument which had their social circle whispering even months later. She blamed the alcohol and he blamed her. 

You find your way to the kitchen, past the burly man serving drinks behind the upper tier bar. You’re permitted past upon the mention of your employer’s name. Within, a man lines trays with tidy hor d’ouevres. Despite his greasy apron, his work looks no different than the private chefs that often serve the Shelbys. 

You hate to ask but you have to. Your ‘when’ is met with a ‘soon’ which sounds more like ‘can’t you see?’ You thank the cook and quickly retreat.  

As you get back to the stairs, you see Mona, Lilian, and Charlotte. The latter looks confused at her surroundings. She has no idea why she’s there. The surprise has worked. You linger then follow up a few steps behind. 

You can hear the furor as you approach the door. Charlotte’s squealing and as you enter, unseen, she hugs Grace who looks more irked then endeared by the embrace. Your employer’s eyes lock onto you and he gestures to you. You serve the other ladies; Charlotte first as guest of honour. 

“This is quaint,” Mona preens. 

“It’s exactly Charlotte’s taste,” Grace snipes, “if only you’d known her twenty years ago--” 

“Grace, I am a married woman now. No need to bring up the past,” Charlotte girds. 

“Oh, tell me the first note of Britney won’t have you undone,” Grace challenges as she lets you refill her glass. 

The woman chirp and giggle. Your employer faces you, “well?” 

“The cook is finishing up. They’ll be here shortly,” you keep your voice low, an expert at not disturbing the others. 

“Mm, it better be worth it.” 

You don’t mention that it hasn’t cost her anything. It’s isn’t your place to say so, or to speak unless spoken to. Some may think your job oppressive but you don’t mind so much. It’s easy to be told what to do. You’ve never been very good at decisions. 

She sips and scrunches up her nose, “ugh, this isn’t dry enough. Go, find my brand. Ugh, he knows what I prefer and he just doesn’t care.” 

“Yes, miss,” you take her glass as she hands it over and you leave it on the bar. It’s miss, not ma’am. Ma’am makes her feel old. When her birthday comes around, it will be her fifth fourtieth soiree. 

You leave the room again and venture back down. You go to the bar and wave your hand at the tall, blond bartender. He nods to show he’s seen you as he continues to serve his current customer. You wait, bobbing impatiently. He forgets you as a flurry of babbling young girls approach from the other side. He takes their orders and you sigh. You put your hand up again. 

“Oi,” a voice sounds from behind you and a whistle cuts through the thrumming din. The bartender turns and his blue eyes flicker in the club lights. He nears, looking behind you, almost through you. 

“Mr. Shelby,” he greets. You tense and glance behind you. It’s him. Thomas Shelby. Your boss’ husband. In essence, he is your boss, he pays your bills. 

“She’s been waiting,” he points down at you. 

“Of course, sir, apologies,” the bartender looks down at you, “what can I do for you?” 

“Er, I'm looking for champagne. A specific brand--” 

“Taittinger,” Mr. Shelby calls over your head. 

You nod in agreement. That’s the one. He knows but he didn’t have it in the room. Is his wife correct in his disregard or was it merely an oversight? 

“Quickly,” Shelby demands and shoos the bartender with his fingers. “My wife is here?” 

You face him and confirm his assumption. 

“Mm, I forgot it was tonight,” he says, though you hardly hear him over the music. 

You don’t know what to say. There isn’t anything to say. You rarely, if ever, speak to Mr. Shelby. You’re usually just treated as part of the decor. 

“Keep an eye on her for me,” he reaches past you as the bartender returns and he takes the bottle of champagne, “better get this to her at once. Guard it with your life,” he intones as he stares you down, “she does prize her little indulgences.” 

“Yes, sir, thank you,” you make sure he can hear you above the pulsing noise. 

He tilts his head and steps aside, “on you go.” 

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒟𝐼𝒩𝒩𝐸𝑅 𝒯𝐼𝑀𝐸

info ⭑ haitani ran x f!reader. 1.7k wc. nsfw (minors do not interact) ﾉ established relationship ﾉ teasing ﾉ fingering ﾉ oral (f!receiving) ﾉ mentions of creampie  

if you were in your old apartment, one of your neighbors would have been banging on your door with a noise complaint by now. it’s one of the many perks of living with bonten’s haitani ran; his penthouse allows you to live without the concern of angry neighbors berating you for attempting to find joy in your daily tasks. you would make a list of all the other benefits if you weren’t too busy sliding around the kitchen in your socks and using the spatula as a makeshift microphone.

the bluetooth speaker sitting on the edge of the counter farthest from the food you’re cooking blares a song from the random playlist you had put on some time ago when you began to prepare dinner. as much as you love your new home, you have to admit; the silence that blankets the apartment while ran is away can be suffocating. you’d much rather have him home with you but your musical performances can tide you over until he finishes things up at work.

a lyric you can never resist singing approaches, gluing your feet to the spot in front of the stove as you ready to belt it out. you’re in the middle of hitting a note when a pair of arms wrap around your waist and pull you back so that you’re flush with his chest. you don’t have to turn your head to tell it’s ran. “you, my dear, have the voice of an angel.”

“someone’s out for brownie points,” you joke through a giggle. even though you haven’t faced any complaints regarding your loud music, maybe you should consider lowering the volume just a bit. you didn’t hear the automated ring of the lock signaling ran’s arrival. hell, you couldn’t even hear him coming towards you.

“me? never.” he shakes his head but a knowing smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. his chin comes to rest on your shoulder and you can see the two tones of his short, styled hair. it was neatly gelled this morning but now, a few strands stray from the coiffed majority. he must have been running his hands through it all day. 

a deep, thoughtful hum vibrates the junction between your neck and shoulder, effectively gaining your attention. “what’s with all the clothes under this apron?”

you snort. what he’s getting at is clear but you feel the need to kid with him first. “that’s kind of the point of an apron—to protect the clothes you’re wearing beneath it.”

“i suppose,” he sighs, the breath of air wafting past your ear and sending a chill down your spine. “although, i do think you’d look a lot better without these.” he tugs on the hem of your cropped top and waistband of your thin lounge shorts. they slap against your skin with a resounding snap, pulling a surprised squeak up from your throat.

you’d be lying if you said ran’s ministrations and sugared words didn’t turn you on, but he could wait until after dinner was ready if his plan was to get you all hot and bothered. “you’re so shameless.”

“don’t worry, though,” he continues, ignoring your statement. you feel the neat bow tied behind your back significantly loosen. the strings of your apron brush against the bare skin of your legs as heavy hands find a home on your hips to spin you around. ran smiles and the corners of his violet eyes crinkle. “we can fix that easily.”

he pulls the apron over your head, discarding it on the island behind him. in one fluid movement, his hands grip your thighs to lift you onto the counter. the surface is cool beneath your skin and you fail to hold back a gasp at the contact. your parted lips give him the perfect opportunity to lean forward and capture them in a kiss. it’s a hungry clash of teeth and mingling of tongues that sends heat directly down to your core. even when ran pulls away, a string of saliva keeps the two of you connected. “mm, i’ve been thinking about kissing those pretty lips all day.”

you grin at the thought of being on his mind when you’re apart from each other. a sense of pride swells in your heart knowing that you mean so much to him. you’re not able to appreciate it for long before his mouth is on yours again. wandering hands make their way up to grope at your breasts. nimble fingers sneak their way under the hem of your top, pinching and tugging at your hardened peaks. the rough sensation draws a whimper up from your throat. ran’s chuckle rumbles against your lips.

“alright, alright, i’ll stop teasing.” his voice is breathy as he pulls away from you. heavy hands fall from your tits but he makes no move to pull your shirt back into place—he’d rather leave them out on display. instead, his hands bunch up the smooth fabric of your shorts. ran’s thumb taps at your thigh. “lift your hips up for me, yeah?”

you follow his command, steadying yourself on the counter before raising your pelvis. he smiles at your quick obedience, dragging both your satin shorts and panties down the length of your legs and casting them away to a pile on the floor. he, too, lowers to the floor, propping himself up on his knees.

from this position, he’s got the perfect view of your pussy. he licks his lips and whispers, “gorgeous.” his lips curl up in a smirk, eyes still trained on your cunt. “and so wet. you must have been thinking about me, too, huh?”

you nod, exhaling a heavy breath as deft fingers run up and down the slit of your puffy folds. his movements are deliberate, slow and calculated. it’s only when he’s ready that you feel one finger prodding at your entrance, ever so slowly sinking deeper and deeper into you until you can feel the cold metal of his ring against your heat. he doesn’t give you time to adjust to the chill before he’s dragging his finger out of your gummy walls just as leisurely as it entered. the lazy pumping continues and you’re sure he’s enjoying himself; if the smile tugging at his lips is any evidence. you, however, are frustrated. you try your best not to squirm as you speak. “more.”

“hm? more what?” he finally looks up to meet your eyes. there’s a teasing sparkle in his lilac irises, one that urges you to elaborate. and you know you should, otherwise, you’ll never get what you want.

“another finger,” you whine. “‘n faster, please.”

he huffs out a laugh through his nose. “as you wish.”

ran’s a man of his word, plunging another lithe finger into the warmth of your cunt. you suck in a shaky gasp at the uncharacteristically fast intrusion—although it satisfies you, fills you up like you had hoped it would. and, just as he promised, ran picks up the pace. the relaxed speed becomes one that’s more erratic, desperate even. with the curl of his fingers, he reaches the spot he was just short of hitting earlier, the one he knows works you up.

“f-fuck!” you choke out. your exclamation brings a grin to ran’s face. you never fail to give him the exact reaction he’s looking for. but—and he’s not afraid to admit this—he’s greedy. he wants, no, needs more. he’s sure you’re willing to give and he’s more than happy to take.

still knuckles-deep in your cunt, ran dips his head down to leave a soft kiss on the bud of nerves settled at your apex. you twitch beneath his lips and the man takes it as a sign to continue. his tongue pokes out, wet and pointed, to circle the sensitive pearl. your thighs tense tighter and tighter with each swirl and the knot in your tummy grows taut, threatening to snap at any moment.

ran easily takes notice of your impending orgasm. one final push is all it will take to send you over the edge and he knows exactly what will do the trick. you’ve done so well for him, of course he’ll reward you for being good. he bites back a laugh before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit to suck at it—once, twice, thrice, until your back is arching and your eyes are rolling into your skull.

a wave of pure bliss washes over you but your cries of pleasure are overpowered by the jolting blare of the fire alarm. you don’t have a single second to wind down from your orgasm before ran pulls away from you, drags his fingers out of you, to deal with the situation on the stove. you’re left a shaking, sweaty mess perched atop the granite counters.

with his clean hand, ran easily turns off the burner and removes the pan of ruined food from the heat. the fingers covered in your essence make their way up to his mouth while he examines what was meant to be tonight’s meal. you watch as he casually cleans the indication of your arousal off of his hand. “well,” he pulls his fingers out with an exaggerated pop, “that’s beyond help.”

his show sends yet another wave of excitement straight to your core. the bulge pressing against the front of his tailored pants is no help either, creating an outline that’s practically screaming ’look at me!’. all you can think about is ran between your legs, his cock buried in you, and the warmth of his release painting your walls. you tilt your head back and let out a breathy sigh. “shit.”

“no need to fret,” ran assures you with a knowing smile. “i’m sure that restaurant you like can fit me in for a last-minute reservation.”

the veiled innuendo is cause for a pout. you and him both know that dinner is the last thing on your mind.

heyoooo, it's sua :3 thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[kat-thepoet]

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Part 3: The Throuple Fantasy

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying this series as much as I enjoy writing it. don't forget to leave a like and comment down below if you have any questions. Enjoy!

Previous Chapters ☞ HERE ☜

3.8k words

It was time for dinner. Tomorrow was my day off, which meant I had to go on a mission with Wade. He has been killing people for money long before I met him. Vanessa wanted me to go join him so I could be some sort of side kick. I still don't understand why, since that motherfucker can't die. 

A few hours has passed since I was drooling over Logan and I was in the kitchen preparing dinner as I always do. Tonight's menu was spaghetti and meatballs. The rich aroma filled the air as I mixed the pasta with the tomato sauce, and I couldn't help but think it would be nice to have some company. I wiped my hands on a towel and walked over to Logan's door, hoping he'd join me for dinner. He'd been in there for hours since our little interaction, and I was curious to see if he was in the mood to talk—or eat.

Just as I raised my hand to knock, the door swung open, and there he was. We stood there for a moment, and I couldn't help but notice the stark height difference between us.

Logan towered over me, his presence as imposing as ever, and I had to tilt my head slightly to meet his eyes. He had that rugged look about him, all raw strength and brooding intensity, and it was impossible not to feel small next to him.

"Uh, hey," I said, a bit flustered by how close we were. "I was just about to ask if you wanted to join me for dinner. I'm making spaghetti and meatballs."

Logan raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "Dinner, huh?" he replied gruffly. "I could eat."

His tone was nonchalant, but I caught a hint of interest in his eyes as he glanced past me toward the kitchen.

"Alright," he said finally, stepping out into the hallway and towering over me like a mountain. 

I nodded, trying not to seem too eager. "Great! It'll be ready in a few minutes."

I have yet not to come to a conclusion about how I feel about him. Yes, he makes me nervous and flustered, but I'm looking for more than lust, and you guys know that too. Even though Adam lied to me, I still think about him and what we used to have. He was my first, and I loved him. I haven't had any sexual relations since we broke up, and I think that's why I feel a little flustered when I'm so close to Logan or when I meet his eyes. Nonetheless, I don't even think he could like me. From the words that Wade told me about how his one and true love died, he is still feeling pain about it. But, to be honest, Wade can be a little dramatic when it comes to love and such. 

After I finished mixing the meatballs and pasta, I grabbed two plates and served dinner for both Logan and myself. I sat the plates on my four-seat table, across from each other, and he was already sitting down, waiting patiently.

"Thanks," he managed to say when I handed him his plate, a hint of appreciation in his voice despite his usual gruff demeanor.

Before I sat down, I went to the fridge to get something to drink. "Do you want anything to drink?" I asked Logan, holding the fridge door open.

He looked up from his plate, pondering for a moment. "Got any beer?" he asked, his tone neutral.

I nodded, spotting a couple of bottles on the shelf. "Yeah, I've got a few. You want one?"

"Sure," he replied, not bothering to elaborate. "Could use something to wash this down."

I grabbed a beer for Logan and a soda for myself, setting them on the table as I took my seat. He cracked open the bottle, taking a long sip before setting it down with a satisfied sigh.

"So, you cook often?" Logan asked, eyeing the meal in front of him.

"Yeah, I find it relaxing," I said, twirling some spaghetti around my fork. "Plus, it's nice to have a homemade meal now and then."

Logan nodded, digging into his food. "Not bad," he grunted, which I took as high praise coming from him.

We ate in companionable silence for a few moments, the clinking of forks against plates being the only sound in the room. It was a surprisingly comfortable silence, and I found myself appreciating his presence, even if he wasn't the most talkative dinner guest.

"So, I have some things I want to talk to you about," I said, waiting for Logan's eyes to meet mine. He looked up from his plate, eyebrows raised, signaling that I had his attention.

I cleared my throat, trying to phrase things correctly. "You know, since you're going to be staying here rent-free for a while, I thought it might be logical for you to help out around here—or maybe find something to do."

Logan leaned back in his chair, taking another sip of his beer. "You want me to get a job?" he asked, his tone neutral, but there was a hint of curiosity.

"Yeah, just to keep busy and maybe contribute a bit," I replied. "But no pressure or anything. Wade might have some ideas, too."

He tilted his head, considering my words. "Wade, huh? What's he got in mind?"

I grinned, excited about the prospect. "Well, wade is in this group called Special Forces. He gets paid to kill bad people and recently, I joined him too. We do a lot of interesting stuff, missions, undercover stuff, travel and you know, things like that. And I think you'd be perfect." I said, meeting his gaze earnestly. 

"You've got the skills, and I know you'd be great at it. Plus, it might be nice to have something to do; keep you out of trouble."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Trouble seems to find me regardless."

"True, but at least this way, you'd have a purpose. And it's not like we have uniforms or anything," I added with a teasing smile.

Logan took another bite of his spaghetti, chewing thoughtfully before nodding. "Alright, i'm in." 

"Great," I replied, feeling a sense of relief that he was open to the idea. 

But little did Violet know that the Wolverine had been looking for jobs all day. 

Who the hell was going to hire a guy with a past like his? All he had were a bunch of scars and a history that scared people off. He'd been looking all day, and every place he walked into just gave him that look—like they knew he didn't belong. He didn't know what this Logan did but from the looks of it, they are all the same.

It's not like he had any real skills they cared about. Sure, he was good in a fight, but telling that to some HR manager wasn't going to get him anywhere. "Can lift heavy stuff and knows how to handle himself in a brawl" wasn't exactly résumé gold.

He'd tried a construction site earlier. They took one look at his hands—probably noticed the calluses or maybe just sensed something off—and told him they were fully staffed. Next was some mechanic shop, but the moment he mentioned his last job was over a decade ago, they practically shoved him out the door.

Logan knew what folks saw when they looked at him. They saw the claws, the rough edges, and the attitude. They didn't see the guy who was just trying to make a living, trying to stay out of trouble. He got it. He'd been through some shit, seen a lot of bad things, and done a few himself. It's not like he could just walk into an interview and tell them he was good with teamwork because he'd saved the world a couple of times.

And here he was, sitting across from Violet, who was looking at him like he had some kind of purpose. Maybe she was right. Maybe Wade had something he could do. But it wasn't just about the money. It was about finding a place where he didn't feel like a monster every damn day.

Maybe being part of a team again could help. Hell, at least they wouldn't care about his past. It might even give him something to fight for—a reason to stick around. Besides, being around Violet wasn't the worst thing either. She had that look in her eyes, like she believed in him, and God knows he could use a bit of that right now.

It was 10 am  when I heard someone at the door. I opened it to see Wade standing there in his suit, looking unusually enthusiastic.

"Oh, Hello Vi!" Wade said, pushing me aside as he walked through the door with a mischievous grin. "We leave in 20 minutes for our undercover mission. And guess what? You're going in as a stripper!"

I groaned, rubbing my temples. "Oh, about that... is it okay if Logan joins our team? He needs a job, and I thought this would be perfect."

Wade's eyes widened with excitement. "Logan? My peanut? Fuck yes! Can you imagine him trying to be undercover? It's like asking a grizzly bear to blend in with a flock of pigeons."

I shrugged, closing the door. "He's got the skills, and he needs something to do. Plus, it might be good for him to be part of a team again."

Wade practically bounced on his feet, clearly thrilled. "This is the best news I've heard all week! Logan, you and me, together. My throuple fantasy. This is going to be so much fun!"

I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips.

Wade winked, turning to leave. "Tell him to suit up. We've got some serious ass fucking I mean, kicking to do. And you," he added, giving me a once-over with a playful smirk, "better be ready to shake that fine ass of yours. We're gonna make this mission unforgettable."

With that, he skipped out the door, still chuckling to himself, leaving me to break the news to Logan.

I got ready and put on my suit that has been sitting in my closet collecting dust for two months. The suit is sleek and form-fitting. It has a deep V-neck zipper front that accentuates the neckline and is paired with long sleeves and high-cut shorts. The suit is predominantly black with intricate dark purple piping that outlines the contours of my body, adding a touch of elegance, which I really like. I also pair it with knee-high black boots, adorned with multiple straps and buckles that extend from the legs, giving my suit a rugged and battle-ready appearance. The boots seamlessly integrate with the suit's design, maintaining the streamlined look. This was made by one of the scientists at one of the research compounds that I was in when I was working with Strucker. 

As I quickly put my hair up because I don't understand how some of the women in X-men, who I've seen over the years, keep their hair down as they're fighting, I knock on Logan's door.

"Logan, get ready to leave. We are out the door in ten minutes." I said trying to find my phone. 

Where the hell is it? I said to myself as Logan opened the door. He comes out in a yellow and blue suit that I first saw him in. From that time until now, I don't remember him looking so good in it. The way that the upper half of his suit contours his abs and his boobs struggling to pop out of his hard upper chest armor. His huge, veiny, and muscular arms are naked, and his pants cover his legs really nicely. I look at him as if time were in slow motion, and he looks at me but quickly walks into the bathroom. I keep looking for my phone, as he's in there.

He gets out, and I finally find my phone, which was stuffed between the couch cushions. I get my backpack, which is filled with snacks, and my stripper outfit, and I give him a jar of overnight oats.

"Here." I said as I handed him the oats. Holding the other one for myself in my other hand.

" We don't have time to eat here, so we will eat on the way. It's a long drive." I say with a smile. 

He looks at me and mumbles. " Thanks." My eyebrows crunch at his sudden coldness, but I don't say anything about it. We both walked out quickly and I locked my front door.

As we are walking in the hallway, Wade walks out. "Well, well, well. Look at you, Vi," he said, giving me an exaggerated once-over. "If it isn't the fiercest, hottest superhero to ever rock a suit. Seriously, that outfit never stops doing wonders for you."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but smile at his antics. "Wade, we don't have time for this."

He stepped closer, his eyes glinting with amusement as he took in the details of my suit. "Oh, come on. You have to give me a moment to appreciate the masterpiece. The way that black and purple hugs every curve... It's like the suit was made to showcase your ass-kicking potential and your, well, other ASSets."

Logan grumbled something under his breath, clearly not amused by Wade's commentary. "Can we get going now?"

Wade raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I'm just hyping up my bestie here."

He paused for a moment, then his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Oh, is someone jealous?" he teased, looking between Logan and me.

I felt a flush of irritation rise, and I shot Wade a sharp look. "Wade, enough. Is Dopinder here with the taxi?" I snapped, trying to divert the conversation before it could get more uncomfortable.

Wade's grin only widened at my reaction, but he wisely decided to let it go. "Yeah, yeah. Dopinder's waiting outside. Let's move, people! Time to save the day, one sexy superhero at a time."

We walked briskly down the hallway, Wade's playful banter still hanging in the air. Despite the irritation, I couldn't help but wonder why Logan cared so much about Wade's comment. He's never cared before. 

We walked out of the building, and Dopinder was outside with a smile waiting for us. " Hey guys." I walked over to him and hugged him. I pulled back with my hand still lingering on his shoulder. 

" Hi Dopinder. How are you? Did you finally get together with Gita?" Before he could answer, he was interrupted by Wade. 

"Listen, my slender brown friend, I need you to take us to this address, pronto." I rolled my eyes at his interruption. We all got in the taxi, Wade in the front and Logan and me in the back.

The mission was on the other side of the town, and we had two hours ahead of ourselves to endure in the small taxi. I felt my stomach grumble, so I decided I wanted to eat my oats. I tried to open my bag so that I could get my spoon, but the zipper was stuck. After moments of struggling, I finally was able to unzip my bag, and one of my lacy underwear landed on Logan's lap. Logan looked down at the lacy garment, his eyes widening slightly. He picked it up between two fingers, his expression a mix of surprise and mild embarrassment. "Uh, I think this is yours," he said, his voice gruff but with a hint of awkwardness as he handed it back to me.

I snatched the underwear from him, my face flushing with embarrassment. "Thanks," I muttered, quickly stuffing it back into my bag. Wade, of course, didn't miss a beat.

"Well, well, well," Wade said, glancing back at us with a devilish grin. "Looks like things are getting spicy in the back seat! Should we give you two some privacy?"

I shot Wade a glare, trying to regain my composure. "Wade, can you just focus on the mission for once?"

He laughed, turning back to face the front. "Alright, alright." he said, changing the subject to the misson. 

As the taxi continued its journey to the stripper club, I couldn't help but feel a bit of tension again, just like earlier when we were in Hallway. It was eating me up, and I didn't know what to do or think.  

"Okay, Violet, here's the plan," Wade said, pulling his mask up. "You and Logan go in there, work your magic, and seduce Thriller. Get him all hot and bothered, then lure him outside. That's when I'll make my grand entrance and take him down."

He turned to Logan, his tone mock-serious. "And Logan, buddy, your job is to make sure he doesn't pull a Houdini on us. Keep him in one place, but no claws; we don't want to scare him off."

Wade winked at me, adding with a cheeky smile, "Remember, it's showtime, Vi. Make it unforgettable."

I took off my robe. The lack of clothing left me shivering slightly, but I brushed off the sensation. The stripper outfit clung to my curves, a daring ensemble of black lace and sequins designed to catch the light and draw attention. A barely-there bra and a short skirt so short you could see my thong, both adorned with intricate patterns, left little to the imagination. The high heels added a touch of elegance to the provocative attire, making my legs appear longer and more defined. I gave my robe to Wade, and he tossed it inside the taxi car and waved Dopinder off.

I could feel Logan's eyes on me for a second; his gaze was intense and unreadable. 

We both walked inside, and I went to look for Thriller. He is a bald man with dark features who apparently owed some bad people money, and he needed to be shown a lesson. As I scanned around the nightclub, I noticed Logan looking at me. He was standing in front of an exit. He gave me a small nod, looking behind me. I turned around, and there Thriller was, sitting around some other strippers. I took a deep breath before I walked up to them. 

"Hey ladies." I said with a seductive tone and smile. "How about I take your place while you girls get freshened up?" I said, smiling at Thriller while he was practically eating me with his eyes. I felt disgusted. The three girls looked at me with relief as they got up, each giving him a kiss on the cheek. I sat next to him, waiting for him to make a move on me. He placed my hand on my thigh as I smiled at him. Wanting this to be over, I got on top of him and sat on his lap. He wasn't bad-looking; he looked like the off brand version of Jason Statham. As Lady Gaga played in the background, he started kissing me. Honestly, he wasn't a bad kisser, and I didn't mind the smooches. We made out for about 2 minutes when I suggested we go to his car to have sex. He looked at a guy sitting in the bar, and he singled him with his fingers to get up.

"Okay, but my guards have to come with me, sweet heart. I can't risk going out alone." I looked up at the mirror, and there were about ten guards surrounding us. I kept it cool, but I needed to get out of here. "Okay, they can watch." I said with a smirk as I perked my eyelashes at him. He beamed at the idea, feeling his bulge under me. We quickly got up, and he led me outside through the same door that Logan was standing in front of, but he wasn't there anymore. We walked outside and started to walk to his car, but out of nowhere, Wade and Logan showed up. 

Thriller's guards took their guns out and started shooting at Logan and Wade. Thriller hid behind me as the fight was happening, still thinking I was on his side. I didn't move, keeping my cover. As Wade and Logan fought, Wade was slicing their limbs, being super dramatic with it. Logan on the other hand, was making them feel pain by punching his fists into their chests with his claws. I couldn't help but notice the way he fought. I mean, I've never seen him fight before, so I was so intrigued and couldn't look away despite the blood and the yells of the guards. Logan made it look so hot, and the blood splattered on his suit made him look desirable. I didn't know why I was thinking like this. But I didn't mind.

After the fight was over, which lasted like 5 minutes, but watching Logan fight felt like a lifetime. Logan and Wade came walking towards me and Thriller. Thriller took out his gun and aimed it at my head. Everyone froze.

"Don't come any closer, or I will shoot her pretty little head," Thriller threatened. Logan clenched his fist, his eyes darkening with rage. Wade, on the other hand, winked at me. I took that as a sign to use my powers on Thriller. I used my telekinesis to grab his gun, threw it across the alley, and elbowed him in the nose. He looked at me in shock.

"What? You thought I was some weak whore? Think again" I said, walking next to Logan and Wade.

Wade clapped his hands in delight. "Oh, I love it when you show off, Vi! Can we talk about that elbow move? Ten out of ten, would recommend."

Wade glanced at Logan, "See, Wolvie? Told you she's not just a pretty face. She's got the moves, the powers, and the brains. We're like the ultimate team of sexy justice."

Logan just grunted, his eyes still fixed on Thriller, who was nursing his broken nose. "Let's just get this over with," he muttered.

Wade walked up to him and decapitated him with one of his blades. 

As we waited for Dopinder to come back, I felt the cold wind hit my skin, which made my nipples hard and very visible due to the thin fabric. Wade was throwing rocks at the wall, while Logan was across from me, leaning against the brick wall. I looked to my left and saw the limbs of the guards all covered in blood. It made me nauseated. "I'm going to go inside and see if one of the girls can lend me one of their sweaters." I said, looking at Wade. I walked inside and asked one of the girls if they had a sweater that I could use. She took me to where the loss and found was, and I thanked her as she walked away. I found a pair of sweat pants that looked clean, along with a pink zip up jacket. I quickly put the clothes on and headed towards the exit. As I was walking through the crowd, I accidentally bumped into a man. "I'm sorry," I said as I looked up to meet his eyes. He looked at me, recognizing my face as I did his. Fuck, it's Adam. 

Next Part: part 4: Under the surface

[timetoddddavis]

Have I mentioned here how I'm low key obsessed with Sakito? He's like this... showboating, deeply traumatized, hungry, yankee manchild who's nice to kids, and I dunno if you know this but this is 100% my brand.

Like he never grew up, he's Peter Pan all the way down, he ran away as a child and now he's back and he's still! A child!! His changer is a game controller ffs, when he gets here, it's all a game to him. He does not care about the stakes at all he just wants to go FAST. Because none of this is REAL to him, this place isn't real. These people aren't real. It's a GAME until he meets back up with his one tether to earth.

Watch him when we see him interact with his childhood friend, the downwards gaze, the mumbled apology, his parental figure giving him little pushes. His motivations are all id, he just wants to eat home cooking and play games with his friends. He is a KID. He's the naughty little boy who lives in your neighborhood who fucks up your flowers and cusses at adults and eggs the cops and gets into fights, but he shows up at your house and gets shy and doesn't ask for anything and you feed that kid because you know SOMETHING is going on with him and he needs support.

Sakito is SO NICE to kids, too, it's so sweet, it's the only time he's really openly warm and it adds such a good shading to his character. He's a traumatized kid who grew up to be a BIG traumatized kid, right? So when a kid is troubled, when he's faced with kids, he treats them with respect and warmth. He gets down to their level. He smiles and speaks gently. He believes them.

The episode with Taiya's school and the dream, when Sakito's trapped in his own head, he doesn't even treat the ILLUSION of a child with his usual roughness. And I think that's really beautiful! We don't know what happened to him as a kid, but we do know he doesn't pass it along.

AND JUST, AN ASIDE, BYUUN D IS SO GOOD. THE ALIENS SAKITO MET WERE BORDERLINE SCARY, ANYTHING COULD HAVE HAPPENED TO HIM. BUT BYUUN D WAS THERE. AND HE'S STILL THERE. AND SAKITO IS A DANGEROUS VIOLENT LITTLE SHIT, BUT HE GETS FED AND HE READS HIS CREATIVE WRITING AND THEY NEVER GO ANYWHERE APART. It's like Sakito met his imaginary friend and he was real and he took him away from all the bad things and he took care of him. Do you get it??

And also Tsuta is sooooo good as Boon Violet, if you watch him he puts in these tiny little pauses when he hits a particular pose so it has time to really hit you in the eyes, it looks so fucking good on camera. That could totally be the action director's doing, I don't actually know, but it doesn't seem like every suit actor is doing it quite as pronounced so I'm willing to give it to Mr. Tsuta.

And he's. He's... you know. A lil thicker. Nice butt. Nice *gestures broadly* legs... and like... *gesturing becomes more unhinged* torso. Good to watch at his craft and also just good to look at. I look forward to seeing him do more main roles, if that's the direction he goes in.

I would shell out for those suit actor 'racer cards' so fast, you have no idea.

[marvel-lous-guy]

Peter: Hey Tony, what are you doing for Peppers birthday?

Tony: Dinner!

Harley: where?

Tont: here

Harley: are you at least cooking it?

Tony: I quite like the tower not in flames thanks

Peter: So you did nothing?

Tony: I got her a card too. Here, look

Harley: *reading aloud* Roses are red, violets are blue

Peter: *reading aloud* whiskey costs less than dinner for two

Tony: *holding up a bottle of whiskey* I also got this

Peter: Pepper is gonna be so mad

Harley: Friday, save all recordings of Tony and Pepper interacting for the rest of the week

[mama-qwerty]

Two of a Kind

My Dread au I talked about eons ago. What if Dread wasn't picked up by Harper as a little boy? What if he finds another orphaned kid and they stick together for safety and survival?

A proof of concept, so to speak. Kinda gauging interest, so I know if I should consider writing more, or just keep 'em in my head.

~~~~~

The dread child slipped through the streets of the port town on North Island. He didn’t bother to watch where he was going—people tended to get out of his way on their own. That was one of the few advantages of being an echidna, a dread child. No one wanted to interact with him, so they didn’t bother him as he went about his business.

His business today, as it was every day, was to not starve.

He slid close to the various food stands lined up and down the street, his large violet eyes alert and watching for the owners. They hated him. Well, everyone hated him, but the store owners would overcome their aversion to interacting with him in favor of giving him a swat when they saw him anywhere near their wares. Sometimes with a broom, but sometimes with something heavier, or sharper.

It was a hard, cruel world, especially for a dread child of ten. There was no sympathy for this child on his own. No pity for an empty belly. He’d learned that long ago.

There was no kindness in the world. He’d been on his own since he was a puggle, and any memories of life before that, of family, had long since faded. He didn’t remember where he’d come from, and ultimately, it didn’t matter. The past didn’t matter. Only now. Only survival.

A few ships had come into port over the past few days, and the marketplace was busy and bustling with people. That was good. He could move about easier if there was a crowd keeping the stand owner’s attention.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t have to keep watch against any of the newcomers, too. When he was younger, five or so, he’d nearly been snatched up by a pirate captain with a very bad reputation. He’d heard rumors about that man. Harper. He was cruel, spiteful, and cared only for himself and his status. Young boys hauled aboard his ship either died, or turned into as equally horrible people as the captain himself was. Most of his crew had been gathered as teenagers, and their nasty tendencies encouraged.

It was a hard, cruel world. The dread child knew that.

But that didn’t mean he wanted to endure worse.

He refocused his attention on the task at hand.

The first stand he came to was one with various cuts of meat on display, most of it cooked or dried. The smell hit his nose and his stomach gave a loud grumble. He hadn’t had meat in weeks. Saliva flooded his mouth and he swallowed hard.

Just one of those chunks of mutton would fill his belly for at least two days.

People surrounded him, and he lowered himself slightly, to make himself appear smaller and less detectable. Many of the people around the stand were humans, and they towered over him. There were a few non-human species—a few foxes, some sort of bird, and a turtle. None of them seemed to pay him any mind, so he slowly reached over the edge of the cart to snag a cut of leg.

Just as his fingers closed over it, a large fist grabbed his wrist.

“What d’ya think you’re doin’, rat?”

He snapped his head around, coming face to face with the large rhino behind the stand. Angry red eyes burned into his violet, and the boy shrank beneath the heavy gaze.

“I find your filthy fingers on my wares again, and I’ll chop ‘em off,” the rhino growled, and brought a large meat cleaver from beneath the counter as emphasis. The metal caught the sun, and it flashed a blinding reflection into the boy’s eyes. “Get it?”

The dread child nodded frantically. The rhino snarled at him a moment longer, before releasing his hold on the boy’s wrist.

Not wanting to overstay his welcome, the boy hurried off to hide in one of the side streets.

His stomach growled, as if scolding him for his failure.

~X~X~X~

The manx girl picked through the burnt husk of what had been, up until a week ago, her home. The fire that had claimed it had done a thorough job of reducing everything inside to ash and cinder. Any coin her parents had saved was gone—stolen by the same men who’d taken their lives.

Seemed her father’s gambling addiction had caught up with him. And his luck had finally run out.

Swallowing back a sob, she carefully sorted through the remnants of her room. Her clothes gone, her few belongings burned and buried within the rubble. The dress she wore—snitched off a clothing line from the other side of town—was all that she owned at the moment. It hung loose, too big for her small frame, and she held a fistful of material as she sifted through the charred remains.

The men who had come for her father, to collect the money owed from one too many bad hands of cards at the tavern, hadn’t cared that it was the dead of night. Hadn’t cared that the man’s daughter was asleep in the next room. Hadn’t cared when she awoke to arguing. To gunshots. To screams.

She’d seen her parents’ bodies, lying still. So still. And she’d seen the men, two humans and a large boar, laughing. They’d come toward her, and she’d had enough sense to run, to hurry back into her room and crawl out her window, her nightshirt catching and tearing down the side.

The fire had been bright enough to see from her hiding spot three streets over. It was still smoldering when she dared return the next morning.

Her parents’ bodies gone. Her home gone.

Her life.

Gone.

Her belly grumbled at her, pulling her from her thoughts.

Focus.

People around town had been sympathetic toward her for a few days, but that kindness had mostly run out. Her parents had been liked well enough, and most people wouldn’t turn away a hungry ten year old who’d just been orphaned, but ultimately, she wasn’t their problem. She supposed she understood, even if it made her a little resentful. It was a hard world, after all. Some people had a hard enough time keeping their own bellies full, let alone giving hand outs to someone else’s kid.

A bitter smile curled her lips. She wasn’t anyone’s kid now.

A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard to dislodge it. Crying about it wouldn’t change anything. This was her life now. She had to focus on surviving.

Which is what brought her back to her ruined home. She was looking for something specific, something that, with luck, had mostly survived so she could maybe sell it and get some money for food. She carefully picked through the ash and charred wood, until a flash of reflected light caught her eye. She smiled, going to her knees, hurrying to pull it free, and wiped the soot from the intricate design with the hem of her dress.

Tears brimmed, and she tried so hard to blink them away, but only succeeded in sending them racing down her cheeks.

She was so hungry, but this was all she had left. Her mother’s hairbrush, passed down from her mother, made of silver and etched with delicate carvings on the back. The bristles had been singed, but by some miracle were still mostly intact.

The cat cradled it to her chest, her grief surging as more tears spilled over her muzzle.

A sound. Her ears flicked to catch it, and she turned, finding a red . . . something standing where her room used to be. She stood quickly, tucking the brush behind her back.

The boy was barefoot, like her, with black pants that ended in ragged tatters at the cuffs. His used-to-be-white shirt was stained and looked a little big for him, billowing around his arms. His hands were bare, also like her, and she spied what looked like small spikes on their backs, right over his knuckles. He seemed to have quills, like a hedgehog or porcupine, but they were separated into long wavy clumps. When he shifted his weight, she noticed a kinked tail.

His violet eyes locked with her ocean blue, and he gave her a little snarl as he held his hand out.

“I’ll be takin’ that,” he said, his voice gruff. “Hand it over.”

She blinked, sending the last few tears over her muzzle.

“No.”

She didn’t care what or who this boy was, she was not going to lose her mother’s brush to him.

~X~X~X~

The dread child blinked, not quite sure he’d heard what he thought. He was used to bullying other orphan kids in the other towns he’d been to. His reputation as a dread child was usually well-known, that even the other children didn’t want to get involved with him. And it was easier to take from those weaker than him than to try and steal from shop owners.

This . . . this was new.

He thrust his hand forward in an angry jab.

“Maybe ye didn’t hear me,” he said, his teeth grit. “I be needin’ that shiny o’ yers.” He uttered a low growl. “Now.”

The girl pulled her own lip up in a snarl, showing a baby fang. “No.”

His growl turned into a grunt. Who did this puny runt of a girl think she was? From the looks of her, she wouldn’t last three minutes against a seagull, let alone him. Her dress was miles too big, her orange fur brushed with dirt, and the messy mop of red hair made her look wild. Did she actually think she could stand up to him?

“Look, lass,” he said, taking a few steps forward. “I ain’t askin’. Ye’ll hand it over, all nice an’ friendly-like, else I’ll take it from ye.” He gave her a sneering smirk. “An’ ye wouldn’t want that, would ye?”

She stepped back for every one he took forward, ears and eyes trained entirely on him. She kept the shiny object behind her—he wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but it looked expensive and should fill his belly for a few days once he sold it. Her face pinched in anger.

“I’m not giving you anything,” she said. “Get lost.”

Oh, she was getting on his nerves.

He opened his mouth to say something else, when her foot caught on a bit of rubble from the burnt house, sending her toppling backwards. Surprise took over the anger on her face, and she pinwheeled her arms as she went down.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, the dread child rushed forward, grabbing the shiny object and giving a yank to pull it free. When it did, the girl cried out, and brought her now empty fist forward to catch him in the nose. Twice.

“OW!”

His free hand went to his hurt nose, just as she shifted her weight to launch herself at him. She hit him in the chest, sending them both sprawling in a tangle of arms and legs. It took him a few seconds to realize what had happened, but she has up first, trying to wrench his stolen prize from his fist.

“Give it back, give it back!”

His grip was tight, but she fought like a demon, scratching and yanking to make him let go. She had almost gotten it loose enough when he reached up and yanked her by the hair, pulling her off him.

“Ye she-devil,” he muttered. “Ye’re lucky I don’t—”

That’s as far as he got before a foot shot out and made solid contact with his belly. He uttered a breathless “UGH”, rolling away before she could follow it with another blow.

This was certainly not what he was expecting.

They both regained their feet, leaving a fair distance between them as they faced off. The dread child rubbed his stomach, the fist on his prize going tighter.

“Ye’re crazy, ye feckin’ little string o’—”

“Give it back.”

He paused. Her voice was different now. Shaky. Broken. He glanced down at the object in his hands and discovered it a hairbrush. Looking back to her, he found the fur of her muzzle damp.

She was crying? Over a hairbrush??

“Give it back,” she said again, and the angry look on her face changed to one of sorrow. “Please.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What be so important ‘bout this brush?”

She pulled her lips tight, as though warring with herself on whether to reply.

“It was my mother’s. It’s the only thing I have to remember her.”

He rolled his eyes, no stranger to lies intended to pull heartstrings. “Nice try. Ye’ll need t’ do better ‘n that if ye wanna pull one over on me.”

Her expression changed, and now it held more pain than sadness. “It’s the truth! It’s the only thing left of her!” She gestured to the ruins beneath them. “Of my home!”

Silence settled over them, and he glanced at the charred remnants of the house. “Yer home?”

“It was,” she said, her voice soft. “Now it’s gone. They’re gone. I’m all alone and starving and scared and I don’t know what to do.”

The tears returned, and she seemed to shrink before him.

It shouldn’t have made him feel bad. He’d shaken down countless other kids, all with equally sad little sob stories for how they ended up on the streets. “My mother died, my dad kicked me out, they had too many kids and not enough food. Poor me, pity me.” On and on they went, sniffling and boo-hooing over their lot in life.

In the end, it didn’t matter. He’d heard a hundred tales just like this one. It was all the same tune, just with different lyrics. And these other kids could sing this song until they were blue in the face, it didn’t make things better. It didn’t make anyone care about you.

Because that was the way things went. The strong survived, the weak died. If you didn’t want to die, you had to get strong. And that’s what he had done. It was no skin off his nose if any of these other brats toughened up or dropped dead. Less competition, as far as he was concerned.

He looked down at the brush in his hand. Ran his thumb over the lines in the handle.

“Ye live or ye die,” he said, not looking up at her. “That be the way o’ things. ‘Tis a cruel world, an’ ye gotta learn t’ beat it, b’fore it beats ye.”

She was quiet for a moment, before speaking again, her voice soft.

“You can’t beat bad with more bad. That just makes things worse. My mother always said that a drop of kindness was more powerful than a whole ocean of cruelty.”

The boy’s brow furrowed. What a stupid expression. Kindness didn’t do anything but show weakness. Weakness made you a victim.

The strong lived, the weak died.

That was the way of this world. Fair or not.

“Aye?” he said, looking up at her. “An’ where did yer mum’s kindness get her?”

The girl flinched, casting her gaze to the ashes at her feet as her ears flicked back.

“Aye, that’s what I thought.”

Without another word, he turned and strode away, hairbrush still in his tight grip.

~X~X~X~

The boy watched as people moved in and out of the store. He knew the owner bought things, anything the man could turn around and jack up the price to make a profit off. The hairbrush was nice, and he’d used his shirt to polish it up as well as he could. It may fetch him enough to eat for a week. Two, maybe!

His stomach growled in anticipation.

He stepped forward, standing in the middle of the street. People passed by, none giving him a second glance. He found it interesting how all these people could both see him and not see him at the same time. Because of what he was.

An echidna. A dread child.

He didn’t even know why he was considered a dread child. What did that mean? Where did that stupid name come from? He couldn’t even remember seeing any other echidna, so it wasn’t like they were so many to have become a nuisance. And he’s sure he would have heard stories if they were evil conquerors who descended upon small villages to pillage and plunder.

Unfair. That’s what it was. To be so harshly judged based solely on what he looked like.

He gave himself a shake. No matter. He was going to march right through that door and sell the owner this brush. Then he was going to go and buy enough food to fill his belly so he could sleep well for a change.

Yessir, that was the plan.

Yep.

. . .

So why weren’t his feet moving?

His grip on the brush tightened. He was being stupid. It was just a stupid brush. The sob story that girl gave was just that—a lie meant to make him feel sorry for her, so he wouldn’t take this thing. He saw through her in an instant.

Besides, what good would it do her to keep it? Assuming it truly was her mother’s, what benefit did holding onto some hairbrush offer? Sentimentality was foolish, and made you weak. That stupid girl would hold onto this brush because of the memories of her mother, all the while her stomach grew emptier and emptier, until she died and some other pickpocket snatched it up to take and sell, just like he was doing now.

When he looked at it that way, he’d done her a favor by taking it from her. Now she could move on, and accept the world as it was. She could use that anger at him, that sorrow at losing something that mattered to her, to become stronger and push back against this world that was so cruel.

. . . a drop of kindness was more powerful than a whole ocean of cruelty.

He frowned. That was ridiculous. Kindness didn’t get you what you wanted. There was no room for kindness in this world. Everyone was only out for themselves.

He looked down at the brush.

His feet started moving.

~X~X~X~

Evening. The temperature was dropping, bringing a chill to the air as the sun set, painting the sky and ocean in shades of pinks and oranges and purples.

The girl moved through town, seeking shelter and safety for the night. Her belly still grumbled, annoyed to have nothing in it for the second day in a row. She tried to ignore it. Thinking about how hungry she was only made it worse.

Her sensitive ears tuned to the world around her, she moved quickly and silently through the shadows between buildings. This town had no shortage of people who would take advantage of her if she were caught—other orphans, your garden variety perverts, or anyone who thought they could make a quick buck selling her to whatever ship could use a new whipping ‘boy’ on board. She never slept in the same spot twice, lest she catch the wrong attention.

Her thoughts went back to that boy from this afternoon. That stupid, mean, jerk who’d stolen her mother’s hairbrush, and just seemed to accept how horrible the world was to people like them. The vulnerable. The children left to fend for themselves. She supposed he was right in that you had to get strong to survive, but the way he said it just seemed . . . wrong.

Ducking between two homes, she moved further toward the outer parts of town. There was less foot traffic here, so she figured she could hunker down for the night without drawing too much attention.

There. A quiet house with a short stone fence surrounding it. She crept forward, ears sharp, her pupils dilating in the lower light to let her see better. A wagon was parked near the fence toward the back, leaving a small space between the wheels and stone.

Perfect.

She squeezed into that hollow, curling into as tight a ball as she could to help preserve her body heat. Her breath puffed out in little clouds as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Something would have to change tomorrow. She’d need to make some hard decisions on what she was willing to do to survive. There were things she was sure, one hundred percent positive that she would not do, but there may be some things she could. She wouldn’t like them, but it was coming down to do a little bad and live, or be good and die.

Maybe the boy was right. Maybe her mother was wrong.

Letting out a little sigh, she closed her eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.

~X~X~X~

The sound of songbirds drew her out of her sleep, and the girl awoke feeling dizzy, tired, and hungry. Her body ached from staying curled so tightly all night long.

Uttering a soft grunt, she uncurled, slowly, and pushed herself to sit up. She blinked against the rising sun, and lifted her arms above her head for a stretch. Turning her head, she cracked her neck, before freezing when her eyes fell upon something resting on the top of the stone fence.

Her mother’s hairbrush.

She stared at it for a moment, barely daring to think it was real. Reaching out a hand, she took hold of it, running a thumb through the bristles. They were slightly damp from the morning dew, but they were here, it was real.

What . . . ? Why . . . ?

Turning her head on a swivel, she looked around, trying to catch sight of the boy. He shouldn’t have been hard to miss, being bright red and all. But there was no sign of him.

She looked back down at the brush in her hands. A little smile curled her lips.

~X~X~X~

He hated fish.

He hated the taste. He hated their stupid little bones and their creepy eyes and how much work they were to catch and prepare and all for what? A few bites of bland, flavorless bits of nothing?

It was a waste of time, effort, and energy.

The dread child sat on a tall rock near the shallows, a snitched fishing pole in his hands, staring at the line that disappeared into the water. Nothing was biting. He’d been at this since sunup, and he hadn’t had a single nibble.

The worms he’d dug up for bait wriggled in the little tin by his side, and he found himself eyeballing them more often than he liked.

Gods he was so hungry.

With a huff, he turned his gaze back to the line in the water.

He was an idiot.

He could have been enjoying a nice full belly right now. Could have had a decent night’s sleep last night, instead of trying to track that brat girl down to return the brush, and then listening to his stomach complain about its emptiness until he finally passed out from exhaustion.

Idiot.

He should have just sold the stupid thing. He wasn’t even completely sure why he didn’t. Was he going soft? Why? He didn’t care about that girl. He didn’t even feel good about ‘doing the right thing’ by returning the brush. He felt like the biggest idiot on the planet. Anyone else would have sold the thing without a second thought. He would have sold the thing in a blink any other day. So what happened?

The only thing he could think of was he was weak and delirious from hunger. That had to have been it. He’d been so hungry, he’d lost his ever-loving mind and did something completely out of character. That could happen, right?

He uttered another grunt, pulling the line back. Maybe he’d have better luck somewhere else.

“Hey!”

The call hit his ears, sharp and loud, but he ignored it as he wrapped the line around his hand. No one ever spoke to him, so he wasn’t going to waste time looking for who owned the voice.

“Hey! Hey, boy!”

Wait. That voice sounded familiar.

He turned, and found the cat girl from yesterday standing on the beach behind him. She held a bag in one hand, and waved to him with the other.

And she was . . . smiling?

His brow pinched in confusion. “Aye?”

She pulled the bag before her, and he saw a long loaf of bread poking out the top. “Hungry?”

His stomach answered her, loud and rude and decisive.

He should be more suspicious of her motivations. What was her angle? What did she want? No one offers food with no strings attached.

Another grumble from his stomach.

He gave a grunt, throwing her a nod. Right now, nothing mattered but quieting this beast in his belly.

~X~X~X~

They sat on the far side of the beach, in the shade offered by the cliffside to the east of town. The girl had brought bread and meat slices, with a small sweet roll for dessert. They had no knife, so they simply tore the bread into pieces and ate it with the meat wrapped around it.

The waves crashing along the shore were the only sounds as they ate. Neither said a word as they satiated their hunger, quieting their bellies with the first food either had had in days.

He kept expecting her to say something, to tell him the conditions of her offer, but she never did. So he focused on the food, licking his fingers once the main meal was done. The sweet roll remained, and they sat quietly. Awkwardly.

“Ye sold the brush.” It wasn’t a question.

She nodded. “Why did you give it back?”

He shrugged. “Ain’t entirely sure, if I be honest.”

Silence again. The sounds of the ocean. Shouting further off, near the pier.

“What’s your name?”

He didn’t reply for a moment, partially out of confusion. Did she not know what he was? “Don’t have one.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “How can you not have a name?”

He turned to her, suddenly irritated. “How can ye not know what I be? Seems everyone knows. No matter where I be, I hear it. It be the only thing people call me.”

Her ears flicked back for a second, a look of shame flashing over her face. A second later her ears twisted forward again, the shame replaced with a furrowed brow. “What do people call you?”

He paused, his own brow furrowing. How could she not know? “Dread child.”

It came out softer than he intended. As though he were ashamed of it. Which was odd, because it wasn’t like he named himself that. It’s just what he’d always been called, as far back as he could remember.

She looked at him for a long moment, before wrinkling her nose. “That’s not very nice.”

He didn’t respond.

“What do you call yourself? In your head?”

Another pause. What an odd question. “Nothin’.”

“You don’t even have a name you call yourself?”

“No, I don’t call meself anythin’ in me own head,” he snapped, suddenly done with this conversation. It was idiotic and shoving the fact that he didn’t have a name square in his face where he couldn’t ignore it. “Why would I do that? I ain’t exactly havin’ full conversations with meself up there. That be dumb.”

She flinched again, hunching her shoulders up, her ears flicking back. He quieted, turning away with a huff.

He should just leave. The food was mostly gone, his belly adequately full, and their conversation was making him feel . . . weird. Angry and confused and uncomfortable. What’s the big deal if he didn’t have a name? Names are only for people who are important. For the benefit of others, who care about you. No one cared to know anything about him, other than the fact that he was a dread child. That was all that mattered to anyone.

“Would be a cool pirate name.”

Her soft tone snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned to her, brow furrowed. “What would?”

She gave a little shrug. Her ears had returned forward, but she kept her eyes cast down to the sand before her. She dug her toes in to bury them, wiggling to make the dry sand sift between.

“Lotta pirates have those kinda names. It’s always ‘The Terrible’ this, or ‘The Merciless’ that.” She shrugged again. “You could be ‘The Dread’. Like, even the sound of your name makes people feel this weight in their belly, you don’t even have to do anything, really.” A little smile curled her lips. “Captain Dread, whose name inspires fear and respect across the seas.”

He looked at her. Stared at her, really. That was . . . well, that kinda made sense. He’d never considered that this name that followed him wherever he went could be used to his advantage. That he could actually own it, make it his, and make it work for him. If everyone knew what he was . . . who he was, that could go a long way in asserting himself as a force to be reckoned with.

And that is very much what he wanted to be. If people were going to hate him anyway, the least he could do was give them a reason to do so. One that didn’t simply come down to his species.

His eyes narrowed at the girl next to him. She sat, watching her toes burrow into the sand. She didn’t look at him, but her ears were turned just slightly in his direction.

This cat was strange. She didn’t seem to know who or what he was. She’d fought him without a second thought yesterday, in defense of her mother’s hairbrush. And then she’d sold said brush, sharing the food she’d bought with him anyway.

And she spoke to him. Like he was a real person. Like he mattered. Like she didn’t care at all that he was an outcast, ignored and shoved aside for his entire life. Looked upon with disdain and fear or hatred.

She didn’t seem to see him like that.

And that . . . that made him happy.

Of course, he’d be an idiot if he didn’t at least entertain the idea that this may all be a trick. Some act to make him want to help her, take care of her. She wasn’t a fighter, that much was obvious, and there were many on this planet, in this very town, who would have no qualms with hurting a little girl on her own. He wasn’t the best fighter, sure. But he could stand his ground better than she could.

So maybe this was all because he could be useful to her.

But maybe . . . maybe she could be useful to him, too.

“What be yer name, lass?”

She flicked her eyes over to him. “Scarlett.”

A smirk pulled one corner of his mouth up, and he nodded to her. “Aye, pleased t’ make yer acquaintance, Scarlett. I be Dread.” He held his hand out. “It be nice t’ meet ye.”

Her eyes flicked from his hand to his smirk, and her own lip curled similarly.

“A pleasure,” she said, reaching out to take his hand and give it a few quick pumps.

A little chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he flashed her a sly smile as he pulled his hand back. “S’pose I should ask why ye shared yer food with me. We ain’t exactly on the best of terms, after yesterday.”

She gave a little wave. “Yesterday’s history. Today’s all that matters. You gave me back the brush, and you didn’t have to.”

He shook his head. “Still don’t know what came over me for that.”

“You saw a poor, defenseless little girl who was all alone in the world and realized you couldn’t steal from her,” she said, batting her eyelashes at him.

He barked out a laugh. “That ‘poor, defenseless little girl’ got two good hits on my nose an’ fought like a she-demon. So, I’m thinkin’ that weren’t it.”

She snickered with him, before quieting and gave a little shrug. “Maybe it was just a moment of weakness.”

He quieted, watching her toes continue to dig into the sand. “Or maybe it be a drop o’ kindness.”

Her toes paused, and she looked over at him. A little smile curled her lips. “Maybe.”

They shared a smile for a moment, before he snickered again. “Nah. Moment o’ weakness.”

She nodded. “Most definitely.”

“Don’t expect it again. It be everyone for themselves in this world.”

Another nod. “Obviously.”

“Ain’t got time for charity cases.”

“Gods, no. Any cooperation between us would be strictly a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

He nodded. “Aye, that it be. An’ the minute it ain’t ye’re gone.”

“Oh, absolutely,” she agreed, nodding. “Likewise, if you double cross me, I’m leaving you in the dust.”

“Aye, fair.”

Silence settled over them for a moment. Something seemed to have changed in the air between them, and he couldn’t figure out what. But it felt . . . comfortable. Warm. Like he wasn’t all alone anymore.

Finally, he broke the silence, keeping his gaze anywhere but on her.

“So . . .” he said, gesturing toward the sweet roll. “Ye gonna eat that, ‘r what?”

She watched him for a moment, before smiling. Without a word, she picked up the roll, and tore it in half to offer him one side.

He took it, casting her a quick glance, a little smile on his lips.

They ate in silence, watching the waves crash on the shore as seagulls called overhead.

~X~X~X~

The child, Dread, slipped through the streets of the port town on North Island. He moved with purpose, weaving his way through the crowd, heading toward the stand offering various cuts of meat for sale. The large rhino behind the bin turned and pegged him with a narrowed gaze as he neared, eyes flicking over him quickly.

“You bring it?” he asked, his voice gruff.

Dread nodded, pulling a mended shirt from the bag slung across him. The boy held it out to the man, who took it and spent an unnecessary amount of time examining the repair. Finally, he turned to Dread, giving him a little nod.

“Girl does a good job,” he said, tossing the shirt behind the stall, and gathering a few bits of meat to wrap with paper. “Check with Williams down the way. May have some chores to be done.”

The rhino handed the meat over, and Dread gave him another nod as he took it and hurried off.

“Williams,” Dread muttered to himself, trying to keep the name in his memory. He had no intention of speaking with this shop owner himself—he wasn’t exactly a diplomat, and besides, people around town were only just slightly starting to interact with him. He’d tell Scarlett, and she would talk with Williams to arrange any work to be done, as well as payment.

The girl may have been rubbish at fighting, but she knew how to string words together. She could finesse a deal, diffuse a fight, or cut down anyone who stirred her ire. (Including him.) She wielded words like a master swordsman did a blade. It was truly fascinating to watch.

Not that he’d ever tell her that to her face, obviously. But she was clever. And he admired that.

He skirted a few humans who blocked the street, tucking the paper-wrapped meat into his bag. He and Scarlett hadn’t eaten for nearly a day, and he meant to get it back to the abandoned house where they had camped for the night as soon as possible. His stomach growled, eager to tear into the food immediately, but he ignored it.

For once, he wasn’t thinking only of himself.

It struck him just how different things were these days. If he’d been asked a month ago how he’d picture his life now, he would have said not much different than any other day. Struggling. Surviving. Trusting no one but himself.

But what a difference a month makes.

Dread moved quickly through the streets, snitching a few coin here and there from unaware sailors. Scarlett wasn’t overly approving of the pick-pocketing, but Dread was more pragmatic. They’d never get anywhere if all they were doing were chores and small jobs for locals. Sure it kept their bellies full, mostly, but that was about it. They were paid in food, and it took coin to go anywhere in this world.

Dread was not planning on spending his entire life in this port town.

And he’d make sure Scarlett didn’t, either.

[juno-box]

junert hi Do you have any headcanoned funny or strange interactions between twdg characters that you wish were real? -bals

When the heads of the Motor Inn group went to Warner Robins to find the military, they found Mark hiding out in a storage closet with a broom as a weapon and a bucket as a shield.

Ben had mandatory hang-outs/play-dates with Duck and Clementine.

Larry trying to teach people how to use a rifle but he's so out of touch with it he damn near cracked his collarbone. Lilly took over lol.

Luke tried to teach Clementine poker and lost to her.

Kenny down the stairs at the ski lodge once lol

Carver didn't give Luke a toothbrush like everybody else and proceeded to punctuate every order of him with "pretty boy".

Javi was banned from using the van radio because NOBODY wanted to listen to Backstreet Boys during those long drives. OR Boyz II Men.

A peach three fell on David back at the Shenandoah river.

Joan and Clint made a funny "cooking show" type of thing once just for fun but ended up with Joan beating his ass over a can of creamed corn.

Tenn accidentally shot Marlon in the ass with an arrow once.

Mitch got into a fight with Violet one time, so Sophie left passive aggressive art on his door that was just artistic ways of him getting hit by lightning.

Lilly pushed Abel off that boat approximately 3 times.

One time the kids threw a basketball tournament in the gym before it burned down. Violet won and Aasim had a concussion (as revenge he burned it down lmfao)

Louis tried to race Marlon from his office to the music room and then proceeded to fall down the stairs at Mach 20.

[olath124]

✨️TELL ME ABOUT YOUR OCS✨️

Random shot from my... At this point scary big stash of shots. And brace yourself... It's long.

♡Name: Violet Wright.

♡Nicknames: V, just V.

♡Age: 32

♡Pronouns: She, her.

♡Sexuality: Pansexual. Doesn't care about the gender, has to feel the ✨️vibe✨️.

♡Hair Color and style:

Her natural hair color is dark brown, but she always dyes them in turquoise with pink accents. She varies a lot with her hairstyle. Usually, she keeps her hair long but mostly tied up in buns. Only when she feels really comfortable she keeps her hair down. Since she’s with Kurt she wears her hair more and more often down, preferring softer and more feminine hairstyles. After the surgery, she’ll cut her hair short and return to her natural color, but she’ll grow it back and will go back to her turquoise and pink color. 

♡Eye Color:

Her natural color is green, she tries to keep her Kiroshi as close as possible to her real color.

♡Height: 165 cm (5’5”)! Short queen! But well, Hansen canonically is 5’9”, so he can suck it!

♡Body Type: She’s athletic. She’s used to running around a lot.

♡Personality:

Violet would say normal. She’s a bit skittish with relationships, a bit insecure, very irrational and volatile.

Really affectionate, needy and whiny with those she really cares about.

♡Tattoos:

A tattoo Misty designed for her with a mandala on her neck. (I want to redraw it and make it more like a big peony, tough, we’ll see! Yes, Violet is a big WIP)

♡Piercings: Many on her ears, nothing else.

♡Any definable features such as: Birthmarks, Scars, Freckles, Beauty Marks, Accent when they talk, Lisp, Natural slurring of words, Walk with a subtle limp, ect.

She has a bunch of birthmarks on her face (not really freckles) and many different scars around her body. On her right leg now she has a scar in a shape of “K” that the two dumb-dumbs keep refreshing now and then.

♡Hobbies

Does killing Maelstrom and Scavs count as a hobby? If not, she likes to cook (with poor results because she can’t really follow instructions and tends to improvise). Only, and I mean it, only when she’s alone (or well, with Johnny at most) she sings. She’s actually not bad at it!

♡Gang/Occupation {Mox, Max Tac, etc}

None. She’s a free merc. 

Who are we kidding? At the end she’s with Barghest. Or at least under their protection.

♡Do they smoke?

She started to smoke with Johnny. Now she smokes with Kurt. Not really a habit, she smokes only if she’s stressed out or if the person she’s talking to is smoking.

♡Do they drink? Is so, what's their poison of choice?

As with smoking, she’s a social drinker. Doesn’t drink alone, but loves to drink in company. She rarely gets drunk, though. Doesn’t really like to lose control, only to get tipsy to make social interactions easier!

♡What do they usually wear on a normal day?

Synth-leather pants, a t-shirt or a top, a synth-leather jacket, sneakers, or boots. She loves black and blue stuff.

♡What do they wear when they "Get dressed up"? And what would be considered a "special occasion" to them {such as an "Oh they're gonna be there so I have to look my best." Or an "It's our anniversary".}

A special occasion is when Kurt asks her to get dressed up. She doesn’t care about dresses too much, but she likes it when he buys her dresses and asks her to wear them. Her favorite one is a short blue velvet dress, with a deep cleavage and exposed back with little dainty silver chains that cover the cleavage.  Maybe because it’s his first gift to her.

♡What do they smell like? {For example: they smell like cinnamon flavored liquor, cigarettes, leather, and motor oil.}

Blood, sweet and jasmine. After she got her shit together mostly simply jasmine.

♡How do they walk? Do they sway their hips? Do they walk with a sense of determination? Do they bounce as they walk? Etc.

When she doesn’t think of it she walks almost as if she’s hiding. Always keeping her surroundings under control, finding possible hiding spots or advantage points. When she’s in a good place or feels protected she’s straighter and more confident in her stride.

♡Are they more of an early bird or a night owl?

An always exhausted pigeon. She doesn’t have fixed hours and sleeps whenever she can. Used to sleep in the morning but with Kurt she got used to waking up (at least briefly) at 6 to have breakfast together and a morning talk.

♡If you had to use one word to define them, what word would you use?

Impulsive.

♡What words or catchphrases do they say that's unique to that character?

For everyone probably some kind of swear: “Fuck!” Or “Fuck It!”

For Kurt… they have a ritualistic phrase she uses when she needs him to be rough with her and it's: “I want you. I need you. I'll always be yours” (the final part may vary). So it's her phrase in his eyes.

♡Favorite Season

Winter.

♡Favorite type of weather {Thunderstorms, sunny, etc}

She likes those cold winter sunny mornings. She’d love to see the snow, but not a thing she’s gonna see in NC.

♡Do they have someone they're with relationship-wise? If so, who?

Yeah. Where she’s at in (my yet unpublished) writing she’s officially with Hansen. In the published part they are together only in his head XD.

♡Main Ship/Pairings

Kvio. So yeah, Kurt/Violet.

♡Side Pairings

Do I have to count them??? Between official characters only, Vio has been with: Jackie, Judy, River. Not Panam because she’s not interested (but damn, Vio tried hard!). There’s also the weird thing she has with Johnny. If she never met Hansen they would have probably end up together.

♡Favorite/Self-indulgent Pairings

The favorite remains Kvio… The self-indulgent is an Aon/Vio/Alt sandwich XD! 

♡How do they show affection to their loved one?

TOUCH. She don’t generally like to touch people… But with people she likes she’s very touchy. Not in an extreme way, but if she’s close to a person she loves she’s probably touching their arm, or slipping her hand under their or laying her head on their shoulder. She is really affectionate and really needs a lot of physical contact.

♡How do they sit in a chair?

Normally? But usually quite comfortably, legs slightly open or a leg over the other. Definitely not feminine or elegant

♡How do they sit in a chair {uncomfortable version}

Legs closed, straight back, probably fidgeting with her hands.

♡What do they wear to bed?

T-shirt and underwear. But she’s been gifted a blue silk nightgown and she likes it too. She still thinks it’s too fancy for sleeping in it, though.

♡How do they usually sleep? {Side sleeper, back, fetal position, backwards, nest sleeper, blanket mountain, etc}

She starts in fetal position, or all cuddly, she ends sleeping on her back, sometimes she throws her arms and legs around.

♡How do they sleep in a place they don't know? {Can't due to anxiety, in small bursts of sleep that are short lived, holding themselves, etc}

If she's in a “safe space” the same as usual. If it’s not so safe she wakes up now and then checking her surroundings. She also is very receptive to any possible sound.

♡Do they have to have a form of "white noise" in order to sleep? {The sound of a fan, the sound of rain, the sound of a city, etc}

No, but she appreciates the sound of the waterfall behind Kurt’s bed a lot.

♡What's a place they go to feel comfortable, that's their "spot" they always go when they're upset?

El Coyote Cojo, Misty’s shop, or Viktor’s clinic. Like a stray cat who makes a tour of her favorite places for food and cuddles.

♡What do they do when they're nervous? {Fidget with jewelry, pick at nails, bite nails/lips, play with knife/zippo lighter, etc}

If she needs to fake it, she focuses on something repetitive. Like the tap of her finger on something. If not she usually avoids other people's eyes and tries to make herself invisible, she tends to do things with her hands but it's more uncontrollable.

♡What is their "tell" for lying?

She tends not to watch people in the eyes when she’s lying about something personal. If it’s professional stuff, though it’s quite harder to tell.

♡What is their favorite color?

Turquoise and blue.

♡Favorite flower/plant

Peonies.

♡Favorite sweet of choice

She's not really a sweet person. But well, who doesn't like chocolate?

♡Do they have any pets? If so, tell me about them

She had Nibbles, but with her erratic schedules she preferred to leave him with Misty.

*Takes a deep, sad breath* Violet Norris is technically her pet. And well, Shark Norris, too. If Kurt really has a “Proudest Shark Daddy” shirt, she has a “Proudest Shark Mommy'' shirt. Just to freak her out. That shirt is always in the laundry basket anyway. And if she wears it she becomes extra clumsy and spills something on it.

But of course, she's not allowed to tinker with the aquarium or to feed them without supervision. Not that she would anyway.

♡What are their triggers {If they have any}? If so, what calms them down?

The only real trigger for her is the feeling of abandonment or the fear of losing people she cares about. Only realizing that she’s not being left alone, preferably with physical contact calms her down.

♡If they could visit anywhere in the world, where would they go and why?

She… doesn’t know! She has seen very little outside of Night City and Atlanta, so the world… It feels so overwhelming. 

♡What is their favorite comfort meal?

Mama Welles’s food. Doesn’t really matter what!

♡Do they have a food they hate?

Food is food, she could eat everything. But well, she doesn’t love industrial-made food, but that’s what she eats the most anyway.

♡What is their favorite {non-alcoholic} drink?

She likes Tiancha Pomegranate.

♡What are their plans for the future {if they have any}?

She doesn’t make plans for the future. But if she could she would keep everything as it is. Living in the Black Sapphire with Kurt, doing gigs without being completely swallowed by them.

♡What's a song that "fits" them?

There’s a whole playlist…

But if I had to choose one this is her song.

♡Give me 5 facts/random bits of information about them

She once cooked a cake that tasted like fish. She still doesn't know what went wrong that time. Poor Jackie, it was for his birthday.

Still has a shark plushie and a T-shirt Kurt gave her when she was 3 years old. She couldn't sleep without both when she was a kid.

Violet secretly likes both Shark and Violet Norris a lot. Mostly because they bring out a silly/boomer side in their owner she didn't know before.

Violet can't dance. For real. She simply wiggles her arms around without any coordination.

She knitted a sweater for Nibbles. Never finished it though.

♡Give me their backstory {can be long, or brief.}

Born in 6th Street’s turf. Her father killed her mother, but she doesn't remember most of it. It was gruesome, though, so that even a 15-year-old Kurt was shaken by it at the time. He killed her father and she was under his protection for a few years until he joined the army. In one day she lost both her best friend and her mother because he used to lie about her death.

Since then she hated living there but didn't know what else to do until she ran into Valentino's turf at 13.

She was lucky enough to meet Jackie and become friends with him. He introduced her to his mom and friends. The first time she felt loved like in a family. They eventually got together from 15 to 18. But she didn't love his affiliation with Valentinos and to avoid being sucked into another gang she broke up with him and moved to Atlanta. She moved back after 5 years. Jackie was no longer with Valentinos and they started to work on gigs together as friends. They never got back together, though, in truth they really weren't right for each other.

That's until the Heist and everything else (which happens a lot of years later).

She met Kurt again, but they didn't recognize each other and hooked up. After they found out who the other was, everything seemed terribly (and a bit freakily) right and perfect. (The truth is that if they did know beforehand they would have lost every inch of sexual tension between them xD)

Now they're mostly together. With ups and downs because communication is hard for both of them.

♡Free Space! Give me any sort of extra information about them you'd like to share

Really, I think I've exhausted everything xD

~

Template from @vincentmatthews, template here. Have fun !

Can I tag people??? Of course I'll tag people!

Obviously with no pressure.

@ouroboros-hideout @blackrevell @cybervesna @cyberholic77 @streetkid-named-desire

@astellehope @dustymagpie @sofia-in-nc @theviridianbunny

And everyone who wants to!

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 1) Chapter Fifteen

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Fifteen: One Hell of a Curry

Summary: (Y/N) and Sebastian find humans infected by hate and a strange butler to the Queen.

            “Thank you for waiting!” said the announcer to the crowd of spectators at the Curry Festival. Soma, Ciel, Lau, (Y/N), and the rest of the Phantomhive servants stood in the front row as they watched Sebastian and the other chefs come onstage to create their curries. “Welcome to the Curry Festival for the pride of London’s curry shops!” The judges waved.

            And there was Viscount Druitt, yet again. Quite the pest.

            “Oh, he’s here again,” observed Lau.

            “The show off,” said Ciel.

            (Y/N)’s nose twitched in irritation.

            “Well, then let us begin coo—!” The announcer was interrupted by trumpet fare.

            A long red carpet was rolled out, and the crowd parted. Ciel’s eyes widened as he saw a veiled woman in black beside a butler dressed in white.

            “Her Majesty,” he said.

            “England’s Mother, our beloved Queen Victoria, has graced up with her presence!” said the announcer, bowing with the rest of the people.

            “God save our gracious Queen!” declared Druitt as the Queen walked down the aisle. Her butler escorted her as the people sang “God Save the Queen.”

            As the Queen and butler passed (Y/N), the butler glanced down at them, and violet eyes met (E/C). Instantly, (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. Their instincts were on edge the moment he looked at them. It was over in a moment, though, and the Queen sat on a makeshift throne overlooking the room.

            “Her Majesty declares, ‘We have not seen you in some time and are sorry to have concerned you. However, our constitution has improved remarkably, and now we are even able to come and sample curry. We wish everyone well and hold great expectations for this food that my late husband loved so much,’ ” said the butler.

            The crowd applauded wildly.

            “Well then, to the cuisine!” declared the announcer.

            The people watched in admiration as the cooks began working, adding spices and flavoring to their curries, delicious aromas mixing in the air around them. Agni and Sebastian were already miles above the other competitors in terms of skill, showing their abilities with their usual gracefulness. Agni’s right hand moved with its own mind, adding spices without even having to consider the taste. He knew it by heart. However, Sebastian wasn’t to be outdone, and the aroma of his curry was as delicious as Agni’s. And then…

            “Hey! What is he doing?” cried one man in the crowd.

            The crowd’s eyes widened, and murmurs ran through the crowd as Sebastian placed bits of chocolate in the curry, just as he told (Y/N) he would. West and several other were quite skeptical and derisive, but (Y/N) could see Agni’s eyes widen. He knew that the taste could work if done right.

            “How did you, an Englishman, ever come up with such an idea?” said Agni.

            “It was by my Master’s order,” said Sebastian.

            (Y/N) grinned playfully as Ciel’s eye twitched.

            “As long as my Master gives an order, I will make it happen, no matter what it may be,” said Sebastian. He smirked. “After all, I am one hell of a butler.”

            “He has a way with words,” remarked Lau.

            “Is that supposed to be sarcasm?” said Ciel.

            “He certainly likes to play with his words,” said (Y/N), amused. “How dramatically vague he is.” Sebastian smirked at them from on stage, and (Y/N) rolled their eyes fondly.

            Agni’s eyes widened as he saw them interact. To him, he saw Sebastian having someone to cook for. And him…Soma was nowhere in the crowd. Agni was alone. He shook his head and focused, picking up a basket with his next ingredient.

            “A blue lobster!” gasped Druitt. “The legendary lobster said to live only off the coast of Brittany. The deep cerulean that even compares favorably to Chartres Cathedral! Wrapped in its delicate, colorful shell, it’s just like a fine lady in a blue dress.” Somehow, Druitt had a blue lobster hat on his head. “Hidden underneath that dress is a delicate sweetness of the highest quality, said to lead people to delirium!”

            “As you can see, that is the highest quality ingredient for a curry,” said West in condescending satisfaction. “It is not merely some cheap little additive.”

            But even as Agni worked furiously to prepare the lobster, Sebastian calmly continued cooking. He would not be shaken. So through the entire countdown, he worked gracefully until time was called.

            “Time’s up! Now the judging with commence!” declared the announcer. “First up is the Persian Tub’s Beef Curry.”

            “There are large pieces of beef generously mixed in,” observed one judge.

            “Flavors are rather balanced, if a bit missing proper kick,” said another.

            “Rather unappealing,” sighed Druitt.

            “Next up, Doll Company!” said the announcer.

            “This is your own home spice, isn’t it?” asked Druitt as he tasted the curry.

            “Y-Yes,” stammered the nervous chef, and (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at the obviously lying man.

            “What is it? One thing alone stands out, producing an amazing fragrance,” said Druitt.

            “But the overall balance is poor, and it’s overpowered by the fragrance,” said a judge.

            “Well, I’ll give you points for trying,” said Druitt.

            “Next up is Chef Agni from the Harold West estate,” declared the announcer.

            “May I present my curry,” said Agni, taking the lid of his tray off. “Lobster and a seven flavored sauce.”

            (Y/N) blinked. He had made seven flavors to be served with the blue lobster. Now that was a feat.

            “What amazing brightness!” cried one judge. “D-Delicious! The tender meat spreads a delicate sweetness throughout your mouth the moment you bite into it.”

            “Moreover, with a seven-flavored curry, each flavor blends harmoniously with the blue lobster,” exclaimed another judge.

            “Ah!” Druitt was damn near moaning. “This is…The graceful beauty I met at the ball. Like seven jewels adorning your overwhelming elegance. A heart-shaped, golden brooch, a sapphire and pearl bracelet, a garnet necklace, a cameo cut pin, and on your fingers a diamond and emerald ring! All of them bring out your beauty even more! I had my heart stolen by you!”

            The crowd gasped in amazement at his analysis. (Y/N) was just glad he wasn’t referencing them again.

            “Such high class!” cried the announcer. “Will the winner be decided just like that, or will we see an even better appraisal? Our final contestant is the Funtom Company!”

            “I humbly present my curry,” said Sebastian, taking the lid of his tray. Three balls of a doughy substance were revealed within.

            “Are you toying with us?” huffed a judge.

            Sebastian just smiled as he took tongs and dipped the dough balls into a frying pan and allowed the outsides to turn crisp.

            “He’s frying it?!” cried the judges. Whispers started up in the crowd.

            Leave it to Sebastian to get people talking. Still, when Sebastian glanced up at them in the crowd, they had nothing but pure support for whatever the hell his plan was resting in their eyes.

            “It is complete. This is our company’s curry,” said Sebastian, placing the fried dough (with hopefully curry somewhere) on the judge’s plates.

            “And I’m saying, where is that curry?” demanded a judge.

            “Wait just this second, this is—!” Druitt’s eyes widened as he cut into the dough. Curry, aromatic and beautiful, spilled out from within the fried dough. “From the inside, the curry is—!”

            “This is the curry that our company proudly presents,” said Sebastian. “It is called a Curry Bun!”

            The judge’s eyes widened as he tasted the dough and curry. “This is-This is delicious! The fried bread’s crunchy and fluffy crust creates a superb gradation together with the thick curry, which is perfectly formed!”

            “What’s more impressive than anything else is the architecture that keeps in the taste and fragrance of the curry,” said another judge. “The moment you pierce it with a knife, it is all released!”

            Druitt gasped as he tasted it, a blush appearing on his cheeks. He was rearing up for another poetry session. “This is the alluring person I met at the soiree! By day, a beauty wrapped in raven wings, smiling and elegant as the birds, but by night, the true face is revealed, and the teasing raven is wrapped in darkness of sinful perfection!”

            (Y/N) had really spoken too soon about nothing being about them.

            “I want to embrace you!” cried Druitt to his fantasy. “And yet you are always one step out of reach!”

            He needs help, thought (Y/N). They deadpanned as Sebastian raised a teasing eyebrow in their direction.

            “Once again, what is this high praise?” said the announcer. “Has the victor become less certain? Now we shall allow the judges time to deliberate on their verdict! During that time, everyone, please help yourself to whichever curry suits you.”

            People were instantly heading to the buffet tables to try the delicious curries. Most ate either Agni or Sebastian’s creations, but people still tried the other two companies’ curries out of curiosity.

            “Oh, yes, the Queen didn’t try any,” remarked Lau. “Isn’t she going to judge?”

            “She probably isn’t judging out of consideration for her health,” said Ciel. “However, there is a possibility she will try a curry she is interested in. Depending on that, the judges’ impressions will change. The bestowal of the Royal Warrant is down to Her Majesty.”

            “Well, well, well,” said (Y/N), smirking. “Look who’s being approached.”

            Ciel’s head snapped to the stage. The Queen’s butler had approached Sebastian and spoke to him. The crowd murmured as Sebastian bowed and gave a plate with a curry bun to the butler to give to Her Majesty. There was silence as she took a bite.

            “Her Majesty declares, ‘A good that is easy for even children to eat, requiring neither knife nor fork, fulfilling both the rich and the poor, allowing both children and adults to partake of it equally is commensurate with my goal of creating a kind and pure country,’ ” said the butler. “Treasuring children and the future, this kind stance moves Her Majesty greatly.

            “Don’t make me sick!” cried a woman’s voice angrily, cutting through the respectful silence. An Indian woman ((Y/N) surmised it must be Mina since Agni’s eyes widened as she spoke) stood, glowing with malevolence. “That’s too sugary. Equality? The future? For this bountiful country, where there are no hardships, what a pretentious queen!”

            “Mina, stop at once!” said West. “You’re in Her Majesty’s presence!”

            “Get lost!” Mina elbowed him, and West went flying back from her empowered strength.

            “Restrain her!” said a constable.

            “Shut up! Curry is rough and spicy!” declared Mina as she easily fought off the policemen.

            “Ah!” cried Druitt as he watched. “With her flowing legs carrying her and her inviting hip pose…She is truly like the Kali statue!” He was giggling happily until a constable was thrown on top of him.

            “He and Grell should meet one another,” murmured (Y/N) as they readied for a fight. Around them, more people were beginning to glow with malevolent power and try to force their way towards the Queen.

            (Y/N) and Ciel moved towards the dais, but several men blocked their way. “They smell…They smell of hatred and desire!” All the infected people turned towards them.

            (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. So, they can smell demons and contracts…Interesting.

            “The stench of filth,” spat a man.

            (Y/N) chuckled darkly. “Filth? Darling, I am sublime.” They took the man’s arm and threw him into another few of the infected.

            Sebastian leapt into the crowd with a ladle and fought off several people going for his master and (Y/N). “Are you trying to become like Asura, the one who faced Kali?”

            “I’m not a demon who’s going to get killed,” scoffed (Y/N). “I intend to rewrite the legend. Join me?”

            “With pleasure,” said Sebastian.

            “Stop messing around and stop that Kali,” ordered Ciel, eyebrow twitching at the demons’ dramatics.

            “Yes, my Lord,” said Sebastian, and he and (Y/N) jumped into action.

            Mina was ferocious as she attacked, moving so quickly she truly did seem to have four arms. (Y/N) and Sebastian matched her, though. She was still but a mortal. The rest of the infected continued attacking people until Agni, reunited with his prince, began defending the people scrambling to escape.

            “I shall support you!” said Agni.

            “You have become even more powerful. Has something happened?” said (Y/N).

            “Yes. Right now, I’m invincible!” said Agni.

            “Excellent,” said (Y/N).

            “Yes, yes, let’s finish this, now,” said Sebastian, interrupting Agni and (Y/N) speaking.

            The three attacked the approaching infected before they reached the Queen. Ciel, the Queen’s butler, and the Queen watched.

            “You have most splendid servants, do you not?” remarked the butler. “It seems there will be no need for me to make an appearance. But do you not think this peculiar? If that was the power of the spice, then why is it that just one group of people was affected? If that were the case, there should be many more going out of control.” His gaze darkened. “After all, there is no one in this world who is truly at peace with themselves.”

            Ciel made the connection with the curries at the precise moment Mina broke past Agni, Sebastian, and (Y/N) as they fought off the other humans. She ran at the dais angrily, shouting at the world.

            “Wait, Mina!” Soma threw himself in front.

            “The idiot!” cried Ciel.

            Agni’s eyes widened.

            Mina slipped on a piece of blue lobster and crashed to the floor. Very anticlimactic.

            “Forgive me, Mina!” said Soma, pressing a foot down on her back.

            “Sebastian, (Y/N)! The curry buns!” shouted Ciel. “Make them eat the curry buns!”

            “Understood,” said Sebastian, picking up a platter. “A kind curry created by a demon.” He tossed several curry buns into infected people’s mouths, and (Y/N) joined him with precision.

            How absolutely like him. A completely ironic joke, though Ciel. However, if he has decided to imbue it with kindness, then its power is perfect.

            As the infected people were forced to eat the curry bun and taste the sweetness and “kindness” of it, the malevolent aura faded, and they were left looking confused at their own actions.

            “M-Mina?” asked Soma.

            “Soma? You really are the worst…” she said in quiet disappointment before falling unconscious.

            “Her Majesty declares, ‘The kind curry bun is able to subdue evil spice and appease the soul of those in the grip of evil. The Royal Warrant’s destination is clear,’ ” said the Queen’s butler.

            “What will happen to them?” said Ciel, watching as the infected, exhausted from the ordeal, were lifted away by doctors and constables called in front outside.

            “They will not be mistreated,” said the butler. “Master Ciel, you did a sterling job today. Also, for obtaining the Royal Warrant, I, Ash, congratulate you sincerely. I have a word of appreciation from Her Majesty. Her Majesty declares, ‘I have put you through a great deal of trouble. I am ever watching over your work. I am the light and Master Ciel is the shadow.’ ” Ash bowed and delivered a personal message. “Our positions may be different, but I believe our wishes are the same. Please continue to use your strength for Her Majesty’s benefit in the future.”

            “I shall,” said Ciel.

            Ash bowed his head once more before turning to Sebastian, (Y/N), and Agni. “And to my fellow servants, thank you for your excellent work in protecting the Queen.”

            Agni bowed respectfully, and Sebastian put his hand to his heart. “Of course. What butler would I be if I didn’t?” Sebastian said it with a smile, but (Y/N) could see the same wariness in his eyes. Whatever it was about Ash that set them off was kept carefully guarded. Even Angela had given off more of an air of inhumanity that Ash.

            “We are here in service, after all,” said (Y/N), putting a curated smile on their face.

            “Quite,” said Ash. He bowed, took (Y/N)’s hand, and kissed the back.

            (Y/N)’s nose twitched in annoyance at the touch, and Sebastian’s eyes narrowed.

            “Well, then, I shall take my leave,” said Ash, turning and walking back to the Queen’s side.

            “Thank you, Ciel,” said Soma. “If I hadn’t met you, I would have remained an ignorant, selfish child. From now on, I’ll learn lots more and travel all over England…No, the world, and become a fine enough man not to lose face to anyone!”

            “Master Sebastian, (Y/N),” said Agni. He bowed to them. “The Prince and I have gained so much from you all. I could not begin to thank you.”

            “Please, raise your head,” said Sebastian. “I merely fought on my own behalf.”

            “We have done nothing to be thanked for,” said (Y/N). “Just as the gods you believe in, Kali and Shiva, could take the pain they held and see their mistakes, so it is with both of you.”

            Sebastian’s smile turned cruel as he saw Agni’s eyes shining as he looked at (Y/N), and Sebastian took his attention away from them. “Besides, I doubt a bonding experience without pain would be a fruitful one.”

            “To be taught my country’s teachings by an Englishman…I am truly humbled,” said Agni.

            “Nationality does not matter. Wherever and whenever you are, there are always similarities,” said Sebastian.

            “You are all humans, after all,” said (Y/N).

            “That’s true. Just as the sunset by the bank of the Ganges and the sunset of England are both beautiful,” said Agni, staring at (Y/N) and Sebastian as the setting sun shone behind them.

            Soma’s eyes turned teary at the beautiful scene and words, and he hugged Ciel tightly. “Oh!”

            “Let me go!” complained Ciel.

            “I am so glad we came to England,” remarked Agni, smiling at the scene. He turned to Sebastian and (Y/N). “The prince and I have both made friends.”

            Sebastian’s eyes widened slightly, and (Y/N) blinked.

            “Friends, you say?” murmured Sebastian. “That is the first time someone has called me that.

            “Friends…” (Y/N)’s eyes went to Sebastian.

l

            “I hadn’t expected a curry festival to be quite so exciting,” said (Y/N) with a chuckle as they finished cleaning the curry pot beside Sebastian. “I’ll say it again, your contract is a magnet for trouble.”

            “When it is a soul such as his, trouble is bound to appear,” said Sebastian. “But that is what will make the end all the more satisfying.”

            “I suppose so,” said (Y/N).

            Sebastian glanced at them. “I forget that you prefer your fun to be with those your contract competes with.”

            “ ‘Compete’ is a tame word,” said (Y/N). “But yes. I find my satisfaction in tearing my contract’s enemies apart. And then, once my contract feels the power and has satisfied their own cravings, they satisfy mine.”

            “I wonder, would the humans consider my way or yours more humane?” remarked Sebastian coyly.

            “There are reasons different demons are drawn to different summoners,” said (Y/N). They smirked. “But I’ll humor you. Let me ask a question instead.”

            “Oh?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. He had no doubt this would be interesting. (Y/N) never failed to be.

            (Y/N) grinned and picked up a curry bun left over from the buffet. “Which one of us created a curry bun imbued with kindness?” They took a bite as they smirked at Sebastian.

            His eyes flashed in enjoyment. He had been correct; once again, they did not fail to match wits and come equal to him. Sebastian leaned forward. “I did. But who enjoyed the sweetness?”

            (Y/N)’s smirk turned to a smile, and Sebastian faltered for a moment. “If I were to follow a human’s logic, I’d say a ‘friend’ did.”

            Sebastian was silent for a moment as he stared at them. There was a challenging look in their eye, although it disguised something else he couldn’t identify, something he had never seen in (Y/N)’s gaze. When he spoke, his words came slowly as if he was considering them carefully.

            “A friend…Yes, I suppose that would be true,” said Sebastian. A slight smile quirked the edges of his lips, genuine. “Friends. Yes.”

            (Y/N) leaned their head on a hand and smiled at him. Their heart fluttered. “Friends.”

            Two demons, friends. Two demons, whose “non-existent” hearts sought just a bit more.

Taglist:

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[antihcroes]

@tremblesigh liked for a starter!

violet knows she's being just a tad bit dramatic as she stares at the door to her dorm room - like it's just going to magically open on it's own - but this situation totally sucks. how she'd even managed to lose her key, she didn't know, she's usually so careful with it. when she hears someone coming down the hallway, her head whips in that direction - face lighting up at presence of another person, of possible help. she makes her way to them quickly. "hi! i am so sorry to bother you, but uh ... i somehow lost the key to my dorm and now i'm locked out ... and i was wondering if maybe you could help me? figure out a way to get in? if you're not busy that is - " head tilts to the side a little as she looks to the other.

[ann7av]

You ever notice how Violet barely interacts with the regular citizens of Navarre? She goes to Rhiannon’s house twice and never talks to Raegan despite having more conversations with Rhiannon’s on-and-off girlfriend.

Idk if there’s a scene I skipped in Iron Flame where she goes around talking to people, but it kinda reads like Violet doesn’t actually care as much as she should about their plight (which makes sense considering she’s a military nepobaby). I think this is one of the reasons why the world feels so empty to me.

Yess!!! I've commented about this with a friend and thank goodness someone else noticed it too. I have issues with how the Tara/Rhi situation was done but that's for another day.

Sorry in advance for the essay, I have a lot to say about this and am very happy someone asked.

I can't remember any interaction with a non-military on the page, which is weird considering there's a little village in Aretia, but RY never bothers to show it to us, just like she never showed us Shantara (the little village near Basgiath) and instead opted to include Xaden and Violet having the same fight for the fifth time. (the romance in IF took too much off the plot for my taste)

It's weird that Violet never interacts with civilians, (who are probably the ones keeping things clean/cooking/sewing/etc) but again, including civilians would require RY to develop the world beyond surface-level and I don't think she's too worried about Navarre's culture/currency/lifestyle beyond war, death, and dragons so why include a character who's not involved in either.

Now, on a character level, Violet is often used as a self-insert (unfortunately, because my girl deserves better) so we can say that, just like RY, she understands the value of civilian life abstractly since she was raised in the military. Civilians are numbers, casualties, workforce and must be protected on principle but she doesn't interact with or consider them on a personal level. That has nothing to do with her own morality, it's simply the way she was raised and could be an interesting arc for her character (there's already a moment during Resson that it really hits her that those numbers are people) and I hope it happens but I doubt it.

Another thing that drives me insane is that we never see a child in any of the outposts (even tho Violet says very clearly that she grew up going from outpost to outpost) in fact the only time besides Rhi's nephew that children were included in the story was in Resson, and they were only used as cannon fodder to show how horrible the war was.

That itself wouldn't have bothered me so much if we had seen a couple children playing in Montserrat to at least show us that the officers have lives and aren't just soldier-shaped cardboard cutouts, BUT when we take the way children were written in addition to RY's Instagram post about the "conflict" in Palestine it gets weird with the whole idea of "a perfect victim" she sprinkles here and there in her books (I can elaborate if someone wants to)

Anyway, that's it, I hope it made some sense and that I answered what you were asking

[loosesodamarble]

Welcome to the Black Bird Part 9: Hector's Luck

Summary: Introducing David as Hector, one of the friendly bussers of the Black Bird. Genre: general Word count: ~850 A/N: @mikuyuuss is the artist behind David's art!

..........

When David got home, he felt lightheaded and ready to vomit. He didn’t bother taking off his shoes as either his roommates would clean up or make him take care of whatever scuff marks he left behind. All David really had on his mind was getting to the bathroom.

The fluorescent lights were too bright. The fan droned low, making his skull ache. At least the water was the right temperature and the feeling of it washing over him felt therapeutic.

David washed his hair three times. And he scrubbed at his skin until it felt raw. All to remove the stink of cigarettes and alcohol. As he rinsed off, David reminded himself to buy new laundry sheets and replace the sachets in his drawers.

He stepped out of the shower and his visage in the mirror greeted him. His hair stuck to his face, framing his eyes and their dark circles. David tried to smile, to relax in his home, but his face was too tired for it.

When David heard that casinos took you for all you were worth, he thought it only applied to the gamblers. But he fell victim as well, though in a much different way.

He wanted to be able to serve customers with a smile. To interact with them and know that his work was appreciated. But all his smiles and friendly banter was wasted on people so drunk on greed that they wouldn’t pay him any mind.

David wanted something else. He wanted to go somewhere else. To be someone else.

…..

The bell of the door chimed and David moved with a skip in his step to greet the customers.

“Welcome, most esteemed Mistresses, to the Black Bird,” David proclaimed.

Though he was a busser by title, “Nero” was giving him more opportunities to work as the front desk host. David felt honored, knowing he was trusted to give customers a good first impression, and so he took to the task with gusto.

It was a trio of customers. One woman had deep violet hair done up in a ponytail, the end of which cascaded past her hips. The second lady had orange locks with some parts transitioning into a summery green shade. The third had mint blue hair, mostly loose save for two buns atop her head.

David performed a bow before rising to say to the guests, “Hector is my name, and seating you shall be my utmost pleasure this evening.” He confirmed that their party was only the three of them and grabbed menus for them. “This way, my ladies.”

“Wow, this place even has a chandelier!” the woman with two-toned hair commented. “The decor in the whole room is lovely.”

“Why thank you,” David responded, grinning. “All this luxury is for lovely masters and mistresses like yourselves.” The comment seemed to bring levity to the trio as each of them smiled a bit wider.

The trio was brought to a table and David helped each one into their chair.

“Your butler should be with you momentar—”

“Oh, it’s not you?” the violet-haired woman questioned. “That’s not fair, you’ve been great to us in such a short time.” She smiled, a bit playful but a bit sad too.

David felt his face heat up and he rubbed the back of his neck. “My lady, you flatter me. But no. Still, I’m glad that your evening with us is off to a grand start!” He gave a small bow before shuffling off to clean up a table.

The heat in his face was reaching his ears. And his heart pounded. All from being wanted. It was silly to think, but he was addicted to that feeling.

…..

Tipsy Roast. A pork roast with a bourbon marinade and plated with caramelized onions and green beans.

At first, David didn’t like the idea of a bourbon marinade. His time at the casino soured his opinion of alcohol. It changed people, making them loud. Reckless. Rude. But the chefs assured him that the cooking process burned most of the alcohol away, only leaving the flavor.

David had never been good in the kitchen but he knew good food when he tasted it.

The pork had a zing to it, at least that was the best way David could describe it. He tasted a bit of the bourbon, toasted and nutty, which made the pork’s flavor fuller. The onion and green beans then rounded out the dish, making the plate complete.

“I never knew alcohol could be used like that,” David remarked to “Johnathan” as the two of them carried dirty plates to the sink after a shift.

“At its most basic, alcohol is a chemical substance,” “Johnathan” explained with a relaxed smile. “How it’s used is what matters. Just like how Lady Nero doesn’t care what our backgrounds are but instead what we can bring to the cafe.” He left David with a nod.

David stood at the sink and thought.

How it’s used, he thought as he started the water. I’m not all that different, I guess…

Back at the casino, David was worked to the bone and treated as expendable. But at the Black Bird, even if he wasn’t a butler, he served with a smile that the customers would reciprocate.

[thesims3help]

Masterlist - Gameplay enhancing mods pt 2. [100+ Sims 3 mods!]

Part 1 || This is everything that didn't fit in part 1.

Celebrity:

Testers Wanted: Harder Celebrity Difficulty & More (Late Night)

Food/Cooking/Eating/Drinking:

Cooking and Ingredients Overhaul + More Nectar Ingredients

Let them eat cake! - Non-Birthday Birthday Cakes

Toddler Food Bowl

Quicker Cooking & Eating OverRide

Breakfast At Twinsimming's (Update 7/8/23) - No Cooking Overhaul Version

Baby Food Default Replacement

Pasteurize Milk Mod (Update 7/18/23) - Tunable Hunger Motive Delta

Buy Takeout And Order Food At Restaurants

Nectar Combinatorics

No More Acrobatics! - bartending animations tweaks

Better Bartending!

Eat & Put Away Your Leftovers

Coffee Ingredients Made Choosable

Gain Cooking Skill Faster At Work!

Winter Holiday Cookies

Quicker Cooking & Eating OverRide

Pets:

Pets Don't Eat Plants

Bathe Animals Correctly

[Pets] Improved Beloved Pet, and other Animal-Related Traits - 1.63 - 1.67 by Nona Mena (simlogical.com)

[Pets] Improved Relationship Gain with Pets by Nona Mena (simlogical.com)

New Pet Genetics - No More Skinny Clones

Minor Pets Won't Run Away

Dogs collecting shinies fills Destruction motive

Cats stalking for crawlies fills Scratch motive

University:

Lost & Found: Honors Scholarship (Plus Other Aptitude Test Tweaks)

Write Scholarships for Money

New Scholarships (Update 10/26/23) - Talent Scholarships & No Store Version

Attend University Online (Update 10/26/23) - Wish Fix

University Life Visual Fixes (Send Insulting Text, Texting Idle, Heat of the Moment Kiss)

Studying Tweaks

Jobs/skills:

Check For Work In Rabbitholes

Observatory Assistant -- Part-Time Astronomy Job

Flower Arranging - Interaction and Skill

Knitting for TS3 - Interaction and Skill

Writing, Painting, Gardening, Tinkering More Fun

Study Skills Online V37

Yoga Mod (Update 3/1/23) - New Features!

Scribbling Pad + Buzzler's Scribbling Pad - Fixed

TS2 > TS3 Functional Sewing table [BETA V2.0.0]

Programming Skill

Investment Mod (Update 9/3/23) - MultiTab Compatible

Lost&Found: Stock Market

Sim State - The Sims 3 Open For Business Mini Expansion v1.4

Layoff Mod

Ultimate Careers (Version 4.3)

Objects:

Functional Washboard - Sims 4 Conversion

Harvestable Tree Default Replacement

Same Energy Gain For Every Bed

Super Hampers -- Automatic Laundry Pick Up (Plus Bigger Hampers) by Nona Mena (simlogical.com)

Spring Harvest And CookBook

Harvestable Flowers

Better Hoverboards

Canning Station Overhaul

Build/Buy:

One More Slot Please! (with vertical shifting)

[TS3] Catalog Search Mod | Patreon

Add Any Lot Size

TS3 HD Textures Series - Terrain Pack [UPDATE: Fixed road tiling]

No more ugly snowprints

Builder Stuff

Reworked & Improved EA Lights

More Light Coming Through Windows

Other:

Write Thank You Notes Fix

Futuristic Transportation Charge

Advice Social Interactions

Have Sim Arrested Mod

No (or fewer) automatic memories (with custom tool to make your own mod) Edited 01/16/2014

nraas - OnceRead

nraas - Woohooer

Retuned Attraction System

More Traits for All Ages

Lot Population Mod

No Social Groups

Random Sim Fixes 2.0

SetHour Cheat

Let Me Take a Selfie (Update 9/3/23) - Pets Fix

Sunscreen

Burglars Steal Simoleons Too

Tooth Fairy Mod

Dirty Laundry Mod (Update 8/8/23) - Maid & Butler Tweaks

Acne Mod (Update 7/22/23) - Version 2.2

Enhanced Hospitals(Updated 30/1/23)

More Senarios Upon Moving

The Journal Mod

[Public Beta] The Randomizer Mod - REWORKED!

Moar Interactions

DouglasVeiga's Dancer Service

Aging Manager

No Car Relationships

Lightning Enhanced Mod (Lightning in the Sky and Strikes)

Realistically Slower Cars, Taxis, and Bikes

Take Sims To Court - Sue Sims, Become a Lawyer, Have Court Weddings and More!

Social Clubs Mod (+ banking) - Grow Memberships, Push Activities, Make Bank Accounts and More!

Deep Conversations

Sleep on the couch, new interaction

o violet on Tumblr - Pure CAS lighting mod

Reduce/Remove Lag caused by Houseboats