#Fairytale Shoes And Boots

[photographychallenge]

MAY - SHOES

“Fairytale Dreaming” by Kelsey

[mrsriddlenott]

The Third Day Of Smutmas

[smutmas masterlist] [main masterlist]

~ Family Christmas ~

dom!Mattheo x sub!Reader x dom!Theo

Summary: Theo brings you and Mattheo to his family’s Christmas dinner for the first time making you a nervous wreck, desperate to make a good impression. The boys notices your anxiety and decide to help you with your nerves in Theo’s bathroom before you eat with his family.

- voldy is dead, no 2nd wizarding war, no angsty death eater stuff for Christmas😤, Theo’s parents are mean, Mattheo calls Theo’s parents mom & dad for obvious reasons -

Warnings: 18+ Content!! d/s dynamics, praisekink, f!receiving oral, m!receiving handjob, body worship(?), kinda public, cumplay(barely)

When you were all at Hogwarts you never would have guessed where time would take you, you knew both the boys adored you back then but they rarely acted on it due to their shared respect for not only their friendship with each other but with you as well. They didn’t want your choice between them to break up your trio, so they chose for you, neither. When you stumbled back into their lives not even a full 5 years later however, they saw it to be fate. They were much more mature than before, and realized it wasn’t up to them to make such a decision for you.

Long before you were clouding their thoughts every day, they vowed to each other that they would never let anyone get between them, so instead you became a part of them. You loved them both equally and there was absolutely no way for you to choose. You knew your relationship wasn’t conventional by any means but you all loved each other more than you thought humanly possible. There was no separating you. It took a while for you all to become publicly official, only your closest of friends knew of your relationship for the longest time. Your first Christmas together was like a fairytale, Mattheo went above and beyond for all of you in your shared flat, excited to finally have something he could call his own.

This year however, Theo’s parents knew of your relationship, that you had taken their sons heart as well as the heart of the boy they viewed as a second son, and now expected you all for dinner on Christmas eve, so you were reasonably scared beyond explanation. Theo’s mother was never fond of you, even when you were basically just a kid invited over with the group during time away from school. You sensed she knew of her boys shared feelings for you long before they did, when they saw you as nothing more than their best friend. She noticed the shift it took when they started acting on those feelings and again when the two decided your future together laid in friendship only, she was overjoyed when Theo and Mattheo brought home girls that weren’t you and when they all inevitably stopped coming around, she always seemed to blame you. You could imagine her sheer disappointment when she learned of the seriousness of your relationship, and it sent a kick to your stomach every time.

The snow crunched beneath your heeled boots as you walked down the stone pathway approaching four steps leading to the door of the ominously large manor in front of you. The warmth of Theo’s comforting hand on your lower back held you down to earth as Mattheo stepped in front to get the door for you. Warmth and the smell of cooking food hit you immediately, what would feel like a welcoming embrace to anyone who wasn’t you.

“Mom we’re here,” Theo called, his voice echoing in the foyer as he removed your coat and showed you where you could put your shoes that were growing damp with melting snow that fell heavily outside. Taking Mattheo’s hand you let him lead you through the large, decorated hallway to an even larger, even more decorated dining room, “They go this overboard every year,” Theo chuckled in your ear, seeing your wide eyes reflect the scene in front of you. His lips grazed your neck and your body began to relax, he left featherlight kisses up and down the back of your neck while Mattheo stepped in front of you to drag a lock of your hair behind your ear before speaking, “It’s not half as beautiful as our girl though is it Teddy?”

“Not even a quarter,” He laughed behind you, you breathed in their scents, soothing yourself with their close proximity before it all came crashing down with an abrupt halt to the clicks of expensive heels on hardwood floors accompanied with a gasp that sent your heart plummeting.

“Have some decency would you Theodore,” Mrs.Nott hissed, sending you a look of disgust as your boyfriends separated from you to greet her, “Oh it’s nothing new Mom no need to freak out,” Mattheo stated as he hugged the thin woman with pursed lips that could rival Professor Mcgonagall, “You remember y/n don’t you?”

“Of course Dear, lets wait for dinner in the living room shall we?” Her shifty eyes avoided you as you began forming a hello, immediately turning away and toward another heavily decorated hallway. Theo’s jaw clenched as he and Mattheo made eye contact over your head before he was speaking in a curt voice, “Mom, y/n was trying to speak to you.” The woman’s steps faltered for a second before continuing to click down the hall, your hand shot up to Theo’s wrist as he began after her with scrunched brows, “Just leave it okay? We’ll have plenty of time to talk.”

Despite your attempts to hide it both boys could see your discomfort with the woman’s clear disdain for you, but decided against making a scene. They escorted you through to the lavish living room with both of your hands in their extended elbows. Mr.Nott was much nicer, patting the back of your hand in his while welcoming you back for the first time in years, and if you hadn’t caught is sideways glance to his wife when his son kissed you on the cheek, you may have actually believed it.

The room was tense and quiet, sitting across from Theo’s parents between him and Mattheo, each with an arm slung behind you that seemed to catch Mrs.Nott’s eyes more than any of her hundreds of decorations. “So…do you three have any funny stories from your Hogwarts days?,” Mr.Nott asked in an attempt to cut the tension knotting throughout the room. “I’m sure there’s something to share based on all those owls we got about your little group you had back in the day.” He laughed to himself, bringing his small glass of bourbon to his lips awkwardly.

“We’d give Mom a heart attack if we listed off our great adventures,” Mattheo joked, laughing as you and Theo joined in before it died down almost as soon as it started, “Well at least remind me of their names again, erm there was Lucius’ boy and that one nice boy that always helped your mother out around the house over summer,” The man snapped his fingers as he tried to put a name to the face he was imagining, ignoring the laughing of his boys.

“Enzo was not nice Dad, you just think he was because he wanted you to. He was just as much as a trouble maker as the rest of us, just smart enough not to get caught is all,” The two laughing beside you had a much needed smile growing on your lips, thinking of the old days with your large group of friends that grew simply because of circumstance helped to ease the tension of the night and you were finally able to think this wasnt such a bad idea.

“Remember that Pansy girl you were always bringing around during that time Matt, she was lovely wasn’t she….but she stopped coming with the rest of you lot….” Her eyes darted to you as she spoke, “Whatever happened to her?” Your chest hurt, your stomach seeming to meld with it as the room suddenly went silent. You knew Mrs.Nott was never fan of you but you never would have expected her to bring up your boyfriend’s ex at a dinner meant for getting to know you better.

“She cheated on me Mom,” Mattheo responded with an unmistakable bite to his voice, “y’know what they say, can’t judge a book by it’s cover,” He huffed, looking to you with a clenched jaw and apologetic eyes as Mrs.Nott cringed while her eyes darted between you and her boys, seemingly looking for anything else to comment on as a distraction to her rudeness.

“Well you know we fully support whatever experimenting you need to do before settling down,” Mr.Nott cut in, knocking the wind from your lungs as though you were just smacked into. Your eyes darted from person to person, all eyes were on someone else as the tension began to bubble over, you felt invisible, hurt, discredited. Too many thoughts and feelings swirled through you as the room remained eerily silent.

“We have settled down Dad….for fucks sake we’ve lived together for over a year,” Theo snapped, teeth gritted, creaking together while his fingers flexed and un-flexed in anger beside your head as he forced himself to remain seated despite his fathers words. Your chest pounded as your ears began to ring, your breathing was shallow and your palms were growing damp with sweat. Were they experimenting?

“I’m just saying that this isn’t natural,” His fathers voice that was eerily similar to Theo’s rang in your head louder than your own voice, “A female mind only wants one mate. It’s science, eventually she’ll want children and one of you will be chosen to father them, one of you will get hurt and that will be that unless you get out of it,” Mr.Nott leaned back against his leather couch with a smug face, taking another sip of his drink as though he had it all solved.

“Loving them is the most natural thing I have ever done, and maybe don’t talk about her like she’s not literally right here,” Theo shouted at his father, pushing forward toward him and using his hand to gesture towards you beside him, “I know you’re not that stupid Dad a “female mind” can choose what she wants for herself and she’s chosen both of us okay?” Theo sighed, he seemed hurt by his parents inability to accept you, “and when the day comes that she wants us to we will both father her children,” Theo’s eyes were rolling before his father could even start speaking again, “You act like we haven’t thought this out, we’ve had all the hard conversations already and when more come up we’ll have those too.”

Mr. Nott was stunned at his sons outburst, taking a second to ground himself before speaking again in a lower voice as though you were a child he was hiding the truth about Santa Clause from, “Son….can’t you see what this is….you’re two very attractive and well off men she-“

“I don’t think you should finish that sentence if you want us to stay for dinner….” Theo’s jaw was clenched as his stern, demanding eyes dug into his fathers identical irises.

“I think I’m just gonna go clean myself up before we eat.” You willed yourself to keep your tears hidden, pushing up from your spot and quickly making your way to the bathroom right down the hall you entered through, shutting the door as quickly and quietly as possible before letting your tears fall. It was ridiculous to question and deep down you knew it, but your mind raced with questions of if they really wanted you or if you were some fantasy or experiment.

The thick door behind you clicked open before shutting with a thud seconds later, the sound of your crying flooded the room as the two boys behind you remained silent, “May-maybe they’re right….I mean what if you guys realize too late you would be happier with two separate girlfriends.” Mattheo scoffed with a roll of his eyes, grabbing your shoulders firmly and spinning you to look at them both.

“You, y/f/n, are the only girl we want and you have been since we were 15 years old. They’re just gonna have to come around, okay?” You nodded your head weakly, tears still slowly falling down your cheeks before Theo’s rough hand was grabbing your chin and tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

“Looks like someone needs a reminder of who she belongs to, don’t you agree Matty?” Theo’s dead eyes bore into you as you whimpered, “You think we’d toss you aside for someone else huh?” Theo scoffed out a laugh before continuing, “You’re stuck with us Baby….Muffliato.”

Theo’s lips meet yours for only a second before he moves back to grip your hips in his large hands, yanking you up to sit on the oversized counter in a flash. His lips met the left side of your neck as Mattheo’s comforting hand ran through your hair, his eyes meeting yours before he was leaning forward to leave kisses up and down the right side of your neck. Your hands trailed up their biceps and around their shoulders, tugging them impossibly closer to you as Mattheo’s hand began to sneak across your right thigh, squeezing and molding the flesh with his hand while slowly moving your dress up, bunching it higher until it sat above the hem of your panties.

“We’re the only ones that will ever get to have these thighs,” Theo whispered against your neck, his aggressive hand now occupying your left thigh with a possessive grip as Mattheo’s lips separated from your neck, taking a second to watch your eyes before aggressively tugging your dress up your torso and over your head, revealing your naked chest and hardened nipples to them both. Waisting no time in diving into your chest, he begab sucking and biting at every section of flesh he could, marking you as theirs for anyone who would happen to glance at your body.

“We’re the only ones that will ever get to have these tits,” Mattheo sighed, taking your nipple between his teeth with a tug, making you whimper and whine before he was nursing the red bud with a swirl of his tongue. Theo’s possessive hand snaked it’s way all the way up your thigh, sending shivers down your spine as he started tugging at the edge of your underwear expectantly. You finally let moans slip past your lips when Theo’s tongue trailed up your neck at the same time Mattheo nibbled at your chest before dropping to his knees to trail kisses, nibbles and licks down your stomach.

“There’s our girl, now tell me what you fucking want before I tell Matty to stop what he’s doing.” Theo growled beside your ear, waiting for your response as Mattheo left open mouth kisses over your belly button, falling farther down every once in a while just to return to their original spot teasingly. Theo’s lips found your neck again, as if solely to distract you from forming your sentence, trailing their way up and down slowly as Mattheo’s teased your underwear, pulling at the elastic with his teeth and letting it snap back on you, forcing out whimper of a please.

“Please what Baby?” Theo’s warm breath on your neck mixed with Mattheo’s on your lower stomach and thighs had you on cloud nine, begging for them to do something, anything to you, “Show me that I’m yours and you’re mine,” Your voice was barley above a whisper as you pleaded to your boyfriends who almost immediately worked together to shred you lace underwear.

“Fuck I wanna kiss every inch of your body,” Mattheo whispers, standing as Theo takes his place kneeling before you and smashing his lips into yours passionately. His hands held your face against his while your lips melded together as his tongue danced against yours, swallowing your moans and gasps when Theo’s tongue glides through your folds. The tip of the strong muscle worked expertly against the bundle of nerves, sending jolts of pleasure through your whole body as you subconsciously began to grind against his face and tongue while losing the focus needed to kiss Mattheo.

You could feel the outline of Mattheo’s hard dick against your side as he leaned in to nip and kiss down your neck, urging you to let your fumbling hand trail it’s way to his belt buckle slowly, giving him plenty of time to deny you before quickly tugging it apart and tossing it aside with a clank of metal. Mattheo groans as your warm hand slips under the waistline of his jeans, palming him lightly before shoving both his boxers and jeans down his thighs impatiently. Tugging him in your hand as he moaned loudly in your ear, “Fuck Princess, I love your hands,”

You giggle at his confession before being interrupted by a particularly loud moan as Theo pushed his tongue inside of you, groaning against you and sending vibrations up your body. He smacked at your thigh to gain your focus, earning a yelp of a moan as your shining eyes looked down to him, seeing those deep, dead, jealous eyes staring up at you as he worked his tongue inside you was almost enough to send you over the edge alone. His bruising grip on your thighs as he held them apart to make room for his head had you spiraling as your brain fogged. You slowly pumped Mattheo, lathering your hand in his precum as you started matching your pace with the thrusts of Theo’s tongue inside of you.

“You’re doing so good for us Princess,” Mattheo’s deep voice echoed off the walls accompanied by his pants and whines that egged on your own, the slurping sounds coming from between your thighs was driving you insane as the tension in you lower stomach began to grow. You grind yourself against Theo’s nose, wishing more than anything to have friction against your clit. It’s not long before he brings the pad of his thumb to rub fast, small circles against the bundle of nerves, making you jolt forward on the counter with a scream of a moan. Your hand speeds up on Mattheo’s dick, feeling each groove and vein of him as his hips drove him further into you, moaning messily with his eyes screwed shut, his hand firmly grabbing the counter beside you for support as you followed beads of sweat that dripped down his bicep with your eyes.

Mattheo’s hips began to falter and stutter as your hand tightened around him, your head falling back against the mirror with a thud, moaning carelessly as Theo’s fingers and tongue worked together faster to push you up and over the edge, sending you into a euphoric state of pure bliss as your legs shook and the thrusts of your hand became erratic. Mattheo’s high was fast approaching behind yours, feeling your fingers tighten around him uncontrollably as your tried to ground yourself had his head falling back with his mouth opened in a silent moan as large spurts of his cum painted your stomach and chest, dripping down in enticing trails.

“Fuck that’s insanely hot,” Mattheo’s voice was jumbled in your ears, your chest pounded blocking out most sounds as Theo stood from your dripping, aching core with a smile before wiping his mouth clean. You felt Mattheo’s fingers on you as he began spreading his cum around your stomach, mesmerized by the look of it on your skin, “You did so fucking good Baby,” He whispered, eyes still trained on the mess on your body, “Looks so pretty covered in my cum doesn’t she Teddy?”

“Fuck yes she does,” The taller boy responded, laughing with Mattheo at your weak state as he grabbed a rag to wipe it from you as your muscles slowly regained the ability to function. Theo helped steady you on your feet as Mattheo straightened out your dress, guiding you to put your hands up so he could tug it down your body. Theo worked to fix your hair as Mattheo left kiss down your neck before Theo spun you around to capture your lips in his, pressing his rock hard dick against you in the process and making you pull away quickly with a squeak.

“What about you Teddy?” You asked, genuinely concerned as you pouted up to him with concerned while Mattheo tugged his pants up, panting and running a hand through his sweaty curls, “Don’t you want something in return?” Theo chuckled down to you, grabbing your chin and smashing his lips into yours in a heated kiss that left a trail of spit connecting you as he backed away.

“I’m okay for now Gorgeous, this was about you, we would have done absolutely anything to help ease your nerves,” Theo chuckled, staring into your eyes as though you were a piece of art meant to be in a museum, “Besides, Matty can always drive home and give us some time in that spacious back seat yeah?” He laughed, looking to Mattheo who shrugged as he slid his belt through it’s loops stating a simple, “I don’t mind,” before you all made sure you looked presentable before slipping out the door and back to the hell that was this dinner.

~~~~

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[halfmoth-halfman]

our little secret

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Medic!Reader Synopsis: Soap finally gets all of his answers- and then some. Word Count: 7.4k Warnings: injury mention, pet death mention, child mention Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. part one. part two. part three.

Soap has been in his fair share of safe houses.

He knows what to expect when he hears the words: a sparsely furnished studio stocked with the bare essentials. It’s not a problem for him. Safe houses aren’t meant to feel like houses; they’re there to do their job– to keep their inhabitants safe.

So his confusion is valid when Ghost mumbles something about a “safe house” nearby, only to lead him through the dense woods of the mountains they’re stuck in to the coziest-looking cottage Soap has ever seen.

Soap’s frozen, unable to stop staring at the two-story stone house with dark ivy creeping up the grey stonework and an actual babbling brook winding around the right side of the house where it runs into a small pond in the front yard. He doesn’t know where Ghost, of all people, found the one safe house to come straight out of a fairytale.

“Fuckin’ hell Johnny, stop staring like you’ve never seen a house before.” Ghost’s hand harshly shoves into Soap’s shoulder, and Soap stumbles forward, turning back swiftly to glare at Ghost.

The Lieutenant had been particularly testy for this mission, seeming almost reluctant to take part in any aspect of it; regret had oozed out of every inch of Ghost from the moment he and Soap had touched down here, and Soap can’t figure out, for the life of him, why. It wasn’t like they were forced to be here; Soap was in the room when Price asked for volunteers for this mission. He remembers with exceptional clarity how Ghost perked up– as much a man like him could– and how the masked man was on his feet the second Price asked for volunteers.

If he was so eager for this mission, why did he seem so resistant to everything about it?

Tired and impatient with Soap’s lack of action, Ghost starts up the dirt path toward the cottage. It’s not hard to notice how he drags his steps, leaving small trails behind his boots. Soap follows hesitantly, keeping his head on a swivel as they approach the front door. Ghost tries the doorknob only to find it locked; his eyes slide shut, hand tightening around the doorknob before he lets his hand slide from the brass.

“Maybe we can–” Soap doesn’t get to finish as Ghost steps back to turn his gaze to the black iron sconce hanging next to the door. He pops one of the glass panes out with practiced ease, reaching in where Soap’s only now noticing there’s no lightbulb to grab a small golden key. He pops the glass back into place, sliding the key into the lock and turning.

The door swings open, allowing them into the pitch black of the house. For such a quaint-looking home, the endless void that greets Soap when he walks in is something lifted from a horror movie. Ghost shuts the door behind him, leaving Soap standing in the entryway that’s illuminated only by the misty grey of what little of the sun’s setting light is able to reach through the thick cover of the towering pines and low, looming clouds outside to shine through the small squares of glass on the front door.

“Take your shoes off,” Ghost mutters behind him.

“What?” Soap turns around– ready to ask why he should bother with etiquette for a safe house– but finds Ghost already hunched over, one hand on the wall beside him for balance as he unlaces his boots.

Soap copies him, unsure and so so confused. Ghost is as unbothered as ever, disappearing into the darkness of the house while Soap toes out of his boots. He places them next to Ghost’s, standing up right as the house illuminates in a soft amber glow.

It’s just as cozy inside as it is outside, and Soap is stupefied. His mind can’t comprehend the shadowy figure of death and destruction that is his Lieutenant among the picturesque interior of wooden countertops and decorative plants.

Ghost is none the wiser to Soap’s internal crisis, heading to a large armoire composed of deep brown wood that stands against the cream-colored wall next to the entryway. He pauses, leaning back to look at Soap over the edge of the lacquered door. “Weapons go in here.”

Soap joins him as Ghost unloads his weapons into the cabinet. The outside is unassuming— a normal, if a little taller than usual, armoire— which is why the interior catches Soap so off guard. A second set of doors— grated black metal with a keypad in the center— hang open to give them access to an impressive weapons rack that’s already half-stocked. Soap can’t help but gawk as Ghost works on hanging his knives— arranging them by handle color, then length. It’s done so casually, so routine, as if Ghost has done this a million times.

He wants to ask, but he doesn’t know where to start. What the hell’s up with this “safe house”? How did Ghost find it? Did he set it up? It was hard enough picturing the masked giant in everyday civilian life, let alone browsing for the perfect rustic armoire or a faux fur rug fluffier than a cloud.

Ghost walks away, heading towards the kitchen with an unusual hesitance to his steps– like he’s trying to lighten his footsteps against the hardwood floor. Soap quickly stores his weapons, trailing behind Ghost with less caution. 

The kitchen is just as immaculately decorated as the rest of the house– all creams and beiges, a large window above the sink with a collection of herbs growing on its sill, and little pops of color from the neatly organized pots, pans, and baskets sitting on the shelves.

Ghost rifles through the pantry with his back to Soap, and Soap can’t help himself.

“What’s-”

“Keep your voice down,” Ghost snaps, hushed and threatening.

“Why?” Soap huffs, gesturing to the empty space around them. “It’s not like there’s anyone else here!”

Ghost turns to face Soap with a swiftness that surprises the Sergeant, his shadowed eyes narrowed into a glare so fierce it sends an immediate shock of fight or flight through Soap. 

“Simon?”

Your voice is soft and raspy and startles Soap so badly he swears his heart skips a beat. He whirls around to see you standing across the living room, one foot on the bottom step of the staircase. Dressed only in a hoodie that’s obviously too big for you— and the perfect size for a certain Lieutenant— and a set of fluffy pajama shorts, you rub your eye with the heel of your hand, clearly having just woken up.

Ghost groans behind him, and everything in Soap’s head suddenly clicks together: Ghost’s reason for volunteering for this mission so quickly, his expectation of working on it alone, why he dragged his feet to bring Soap here. All of the puzzle pieces floating around in his mind slide into place as he watches you stumble into the living room, still half-asleep.

After your rescue, you’d been confined to the infirmary for weeks. The team had come to see you, sometimes lucky to catch you for the few minutes you could stay conscious long enough to entertain small conversations. You were put on immediate leave once you were well enough, and in the three months since then, no one has heard from you. 

Soap’s glad to see you despite his mild guilt for disturbing you.

You look much better than when you left— less like you’d been repeatedly hit by a bus— and well on your way to recovery. There’s still gauze wrapped around your right thigh, and a few of the worst bruises are still present on your skin, in the process of fading. The only lasting injury Soap can see is the deep scar that trails along the left edge of your jaw from your chin to your ear; you’d had trouble talking while in the infirmary, pain buzzing through your jaw anytime you moved your mouth, but now you’re yawning widely without a single care.

You make it halfway to the kitchen when your eyes land on Soap; you freeze, brows knitting together in confusion.

“Soap?” 

“Doc.”

“What’re you….” You trail off, spotting Ghost behind him. Soap watches how you take in their clothes, the dirt and dried blood stained into the fabric, and how your eyes glance over to the open weapons cabinet near the front door. The shift to Doctor Mode is instant; you straighten up, already looking them over for any possible injuries as you hasten your way to the kitchen.

“I’m fine, Doc,” Soap smiles, seeing some of the tension ease from your shoulders. “Lt. got a little roughed up, though.” Your head snaps to Ghost, and Soap steps aside, setting a gentle hand on your back to guide you and your concern toward Ghost. The Lieutenant glares at him over your head, but this time Soap smiles back, a knowing grin plastered on his face as you fret.

“You shouldn’t be up,” Ghost sighs, pulling his angry gaze away from Soap to stare down at you. He’s trying to seem stern, frustrated that you’re up and about, but you pay him no mind. It’s almost sweet, the way his gaze softens the moment he looks at you; he’s concerned for you as much as you are for him.

“‘m fine,” you mumble stubbornly. Ghost rolls his eyes as he lets you look over him. His eyes briefly flick up from your face to Soap before back down to you. Soap’s known Ghost for a long time; he’s learned how to read the subtle changes in those dark eyes, and he can see the way Ghost fights with himself before letting his eyes slide shut in resigned conclusion.

“You need to rest,” he sighs again, faint and gentle, as he lightly grabs your wandering hands and eases them off him. He glances up at Soap again, but Soap avoids his gaze, finding interest in the earthy green toaster and not even trying to hide his grin.

“I will, I will,” you huff. You step back from Ghost, pulling your hands from his to cross your arms over your chest. “Mission go okay?”

You’re talking to him now; Soap realizes when Ghost doesn’t answer. He turns to you with an easy, if a little cocky, smile and a half-shrug.

“Thought they could try and ambush us, but they were no match for us. Right, Lt.?” There’s a quiet, exasperated fuckin’ hell from Ghost, but you’re laughing— your smile not as wide on your left side— and Soap realizes how much he’s missed you.

“We needed a place to lie low for the night-” Ghost starts.

“And this was close by, I get it.” You maintain your smile, nudging Ghost’s arm with your elbow. “Surprised you got here before the storm started.”

“What? That poor excuse for cloud coverage outside? Hardly call that a storm,” Soap scoffs. You shrug, meandering to the cabinet that holds the cups and mugs. 

“If that’s what you want to think,” you tease, but Soap is too busy watching Ghost as he watches you. “All I’m saying is-” The moment you reach up to grab a glass, there’s a hand on your waist and a sturdy body pressed against your back. “-Simon, I can reach just fine-”

He doesn’t listen, grabbing a glass and setting it in your hands while you pout up at him. You roll your eyes, stepping out from in front of him and smiling at Soap like nothing happened.

“All I’m saying is, I’ve lived here for a while; I think I can tell the difference between a little fog and a soon-to-be torrential downpour.” You fill your glass with water as you talk, batting Ghost away when he tries to take the full glass from you the minute you’ve filled it up.

“And since someone-” you send Ghost a pointed glare “-is in such a helpful mood, he can set you up in the guest room for tonight while I go back to sleep.” You saunter past Soap— as well as one can while healing— glass of water in hand.

“Good to see you again, Doc,” Soap laughs as you pass him. You send him a sly wink, playfully bumping his shoulder before heading upstairs. 

A tense quiet looms over the kitchen as Soap and Ghost are left alone. Ghost is staring at him, and he’s staring back, neither one knowing how to break the awkward silence that surrounds them.

Until—

“So,” Soap starts, smug grin crawling across his face and vindication thrumming through his veins. “You and the Doc, eh?”

“Don’t fuckin’ start.”

With that, Ghost marches past him, heading for the stairs and, Soap decides this is going to be one of the top three missions of his life.

-

It’s 5:03 in the morning when Soap is awoken by the loudest clap of thunder he’s heard in his life.

It shocks him awake, shooting straight up from the bed, heart hammering and mind alert. It takes him a minute to realize there’s no immediate danger and that his biggest threat is the blue duvet tangled around his legs. Soap pauses, staring down at the soft blue blanket in confusion.

Why is he-

Oh. 

Right.

Soap takes in the room— cozy just like the rest of the house— taking this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see if he can spot any clues, any slight hints that’ll give him insight on you and Ghost. The two of you are frustratingly thorough, as the only unusual thing he finds is the heavy blanket of rain pouring down the window.

Thunder rumbles above.

A door opens and shuts somewhere in the house.

Soap is of a curious mind— perhaps too curious for his own good— but that same intense inquisitiveness is what gave him enough of a glimpse to discover his Lieutenant’s secret marriage, so who is he to fight it?

He gets out of bed, ignoring the instant chill that comes with leaving the warm covers, and changes into the spare shirt and sweatpants you had Ghost give to him. As quietly as he can, he leaves the room, heading straight down the hall and toward the stairs.

The roll of thunder echoes above once more.

Something metal clatters downstairs.

Soap tiptoes down the steps, peering into the living room when he reaches the bottom step. The lights are off, save for the kitchen, where you sit at the small circular table, and Ghost stands at the counter near the sink, pouring boiling water from an old kettle into a black mug. 

You’re still in your suspiciously oversized hoodie but have changed out of your fluffy shorts, trading them in for long pajama pants decorated with those colorful ghosts from pac-man. Ghost is dressed down significantly, only wearing a thin black t-shirt and matching sweatpants.

Soap should be surprised to see the balaclava still on, but he isn’t.

Ghost sets the mug on the table in front of you before he slides a chair over and sits down next to you. You sit up— almost dragging yourself into an upright position— looking far more exhausted than you had yesterday.

He watches you— attentive and alert in an almost too-intense way— shifting slightly with your every move. You either don’t notice or don’t care, messing with the tea bag and sipping from your cup. You wince when you swallow, and Ghost is leaning toward you, gloveless hand coming to rest just under your jaw. His thumb gently trails along the scar on your jawline, quiet murmurs exchanged and lost on Soap’s ears. 

He should go back upstairs; it’s still early, and this seems like a moment he shouldn’t intrude on.

Soap takes one step backward, the woods beneath his foot whining under his weight and settling with a pop. 

Your attention turns to the stairs, and Soap makes a snap decision. He stands up straight, heading down the stairs and into the living room, doing his best to seem casual and not like he was just spying on you.

Ghost pulls away from you, sitting back in his chair as you smile tiredly at Soap. Your voice is rough, more so than the tired rasp of someone who’s just woken up. “Mornin’, Soap.”

“Mornin’.”

“The storm wake you up?” you ask, setting your elbow on the table to set your chin in your hand. Soap shrugs, taking a seat across from you. 

“I was already up,” he lies. You raise a brow, an amused smile that says you don’t believe him, but you don’t say anything. You lean back, grasping your mug with both hands and letting the warmth soak into your fingers.

He notices the mug first, streaks of the cartoon ghost with a crooked smile peering at him through your fingers. Then his gaze moves to your fingers, where he spots a solid black ring sitting comfortably on your left hand.

“You gonna ask about it?” you ask, grinning at him over the steam as you sip your tea. Soap coughs, rubbing his neck with enough sense to look sheepish. He chances a glance at Ghost, but the man’s eyes stay firmly on you. “It’s fine, Soap. I’m sure you have questions.”

He’ll probably never get this chance again.

Fuck it.

“I have a list,” Soap says, a little too eager, leaning forward on his elbows. 

“You get three.” Ghost’s voice is flat and unamused– a stark contrast to your welcoming demeanor.

“Only three?”

“That’s one. You got two left.”

You scoff, reaching over to pinch Ghost’s arm. He grunts– more in annoyance than pain– giving you a half-hearted glare. It’s not ideal, but Soap will take what he can get. Sorting through the mental list of questions he’s been compiling since he first took notice of this little relationship, Soap tries to pick out the most important ones.

The group sits in silence while he thinks; you slowly work your way through your tea, grimacing around every swallow as the storm looms overhead. Thick raindrops assault the kitchen window, a steady waterfall pouring down the glass. Thunder booms overhead, less severe than before but startling all the same.

“Does Price know about…this?” he asks, gesturing to your ring.

“That’s your question?” Ghost scoffs.

It’s a question that’s confused him for months, so yes it is.

“He does,” you answer honestly. “So does my old Captain. They helped get all the legal stuff sorted out.”

“Legal stuff?” 

“‘s a little difficult getting a marriage license for a dead man. Some strings had to be pulled.” You speak so casually as if that’s a normal thing to say. They’re around each other so often, Soap sometimes forgets that Ghost’s callsign is more than just a nickname; he’s a literal dead man walking, the living phantom of Simon Riley.

“Does anyone else know? Your old team? Laswell?” A cold chill shoots up his spine, “Did Shepherd know?”

“No,” Ghost sighs.

“My maiden name’s on all the paperwork. Price and Owens were thorough,” you explain. “No one knows but them…and now you, of course.”

Soap nods, fully understanding the weight of this secret he now bears, but he has to wonder-

“Would you've said anything? Eventually?”

You and Ghost share a look before you shrug, staring down into your half-empty mug.

“We talked about it.”

“After Las Almas,” Ghost adds. “Got too used to keepin’ it a secret and ended up never bringing it up.”

“Old habits,” you laugh softly. There’s a swell in Soap’s chest at the thought of you two trusting him enough to tell him about your marriage, even if it never actually happened. There were times when he wasn’t sure if Ghost even liked him, but after Mexico…there was a bond there that he’s realized wasn’t as one-sided as he may have assumed.

Your laugh dissolves into a hoarse cough, and Ghost is instantly on his feet.

“Back to bed, let’s go,” he orders, no room for negotiation. You roll your eyes, standing up slowly and favoring your right side.

“Make yourself at home, Soap,” you say in your gravelly voice, glancing out to the endless rain. “It looks like you might be stuck here a while.”

-

The storm doesn’t lessen for the rest of the morning and only worsens the following day; it’s clear he and Ghost will be here longer than initially intended. 

Soap doesn’t mind, though.

He’s been given almost completely free rein of the house, presented with the rare opportunity to snoop without worrying about getting caught. 

He notices the pictures on the third day as he’s coming down the stairs. There’s a tall, thin bookshelf on the wall opposite the bottom step filled to the brim with a vast collection of novels and a few picture frames.

He checks the top picture first, carefully pulling it from the top shelf of the bookcase. It’s a picture of Ghost standing in full gear, sunglasses on over his balaclava, holding a fully grown German Shephard over his right shoulder. The dog is looking to the side where you’re standing in matching gear, hands scratching behind its ears as you make a silly face with your lips pursed. 

“Aw, I miss that dog.”

Soap jumps, nearly dropping the picture frame as you appear next to him, looking over his shoulder at the photo. 

“Christ, you need a bell or something,” he mutters, setting the frame back on the shelf.

“Maybe you shouldn’t let yourself get so distracted,” you tease. You turn to the bookcase, a fond sigh as you look over the various photos. You let yourself sit in nostalgia for only a minute before glancing at Soap with a slight grin.

“You wanna see more?”

“I’ve never wanted anything more.”

You gather the pictures in your arms, leading Soap to the living room. You set the photos down on the coffee table and gesture for Soap to make himself comfortable on the sofa while you disappear into the hallway next to the kitchen. Soap sorts through the pictures. There’s one of Ghost sitting uncomfortably rigid in the back of a helicopter as you and Trip sleep on either side of him with your heads resting on Ghost’s shoulders. Another shows you with your old team, everyone dressed in civvies and sat around a bar table covered in empty glasses. The third is a duplicate of the one Soap had found in your desk in pristine condition. 

“I have this if you want to look through it,” you say as you return a large black book in your hands. You hand it to Soap, and he flips it open while you make yourself comfortable next to him.

It’s a photo album.

An entire photo album of you and Ghost– and sometimes the dog and your old team, but that’s not important.

Soap flips through it in wonder and awe. “Who took all these?”

“My old Captain, mostly. Some were me or one of the others. I think there’s a couple Simon took in there, too.”

“What did I take?” Ghost wanders down the steps, stopping when he sees the album in Soap’s hands. “For fuck’s sake, why does he have that?”

“Don’t mind him,” you huff. You lean over a peer into the photo album, pointing at one in the bottom left corner. “That’s one of my favorites!”

It’s a picture of Ghost passed out on a tattered sofa, exhausted, with the German Shephard curled around his head as he uses it for a pillow.

“Riley was such a good dog,” you sigh wistfully. Soap snorts, glancing over to Ghost. 

“Riley?”

“Wasn't my idea,” Ghost grumbles, looking directly at you. 

“Didn’t think you worked on a team before, Lt.,” Soap says, handing the album over to you so you can flip through the pictures, pulling out ones you want to show Soap.

“It happened on occasion,” Ghost shrugs, thick arms folded across his chest. “Worked with Owens once before, and she was impressed enough to ask for me on certain missions.”

“And because he had a crush on the doctor,” you mumble, laughing to yourself as you slide another picture out. Ghost seems less than amused, but he doesn’t deny it.

“You were a doctor back then?” Soap questions. That doesn’t sound right. He’s seen you in the field with the 141, your uniform completely different from what you’re wearing in those pictures.

You hesitate, pausing in your picture collecting to knit your fingers together and pick at your nails.

“Of sorts.” Is all you say.

“It was a specialized position,” Ghost cuts in, walking around the back of the sofa to set his hands on your shoulders. “Interrogation Specialist.”

“So, you questioned people?”

“I tortured people.” You look up from the photos, meeting Soap’s eyes with a distant gaze he’s seen many times on Ghost. 

He doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Is that why they called you Hornet?” Is what comes out of his mouth. It’s absurd enough to shock you out of whatever memory you were stuck in, tilting your head in confusion.

“No? Who told you that?”

“Grizzly. He said something about you being like a hornet in a beehive.” 

You have to bite into your cheek to keep from laughing, and even then, a few giggles escape you. You relax into the couch, craning your head up to look at Ghost, “I mean, I guess that works.”

“If that’s not it, then why-”

“We didn't have a medic, so I had to stitch everyone up a lot. And most of the time, we didn’t have any kind of anesthesia, and I didn’t give any warning before I started poking with the sewing needle. Grizzly complained that I was like an aggressive bee, Trip told him those were called hornets, and that was that. Not as cool, right?” Soap wants to reassure you, but your attention is back to the book in your lap.

You gasp, pulling out a photo to hold it up to Ghost, “Remember this?”

Ghost’s answer is immediate, “Don’t show him that.”

Well, now Soap has to know.

You laugh, sliding the picture back into its place, but briefly look over to Soap, mouthing later with a wink.

-

Over the next few days, Soap learns more about your relationship with Ghost. 

He learns that you met during a black-ops mission, where Ghost was meant to help escort your team– and more specifically, you– to a remote base to question some high-profile prisoner.

He learns that the two of you worked so well together for that first mission that Captain Owens made Ghost her go-to for any outside help if the team ever needed it.

He learns you spent years working together before the thought of becoming a couple even entered your minds.

And he learns that after that first time together, you and Ghost developed a specific set of rules for your relationship that’s only grown since.

You’ve told him a couple: no obvious affection in public, don’t compromise a mission for the other’s safety, respect each other’s space and the occasional need to spend time apart, no letters or phone calls unless it’s an absolute emergency.

Most were proposed by Ghost, but you agreed that it was for the safety of both of you.

He puts together clues about some of the other– possibly unspoken– rules when he watches the two of you interact. Ghost takes your health very seriously, and sometimes his tone borders on commanding when he tries to get you to rest or take medicine or drink tea without anything added to it. You sass him and roll your eyes, but do whatever he says every time. It’s the same when you ask him to get you something or try to get him to be a little nicer to Soap when he asks about some aspect of your marriage: Ghost will groan or roll his eyes but always bends to your will.

You don’t ask about each other’s missions, either. Soap watches you reorganize the weapon cabinet one day, noticing the blood on a few of Ghost’s knives. You ask if it’s his or Soap’s and if either of them needs to be looked at, but when they assure you they’re fine, you drop the subject. 

The biggest question for him, though: the rings.

Ghost’s has found its way onto his finger– the first time Soap has seen it there, while you switch between wearing yours on your finger and on that thin chain around your neck.

It’s on your finger this morning, and Soap is fixated on watching you twirl it around your finger absentmindedly while you stare over the back of the couch at Ghost’s back as he makes breakfast.

(That’s another thing– Ghost has done most, if not all, of the cooking since they got here.)

“It’s weird to see him with a ring on,” Soap quietly laughs. You turn to him, pulled out of your husband-watching trance. 

“Yeah, it’s not often we get to actually wear them.”

“One of his rules?”

“One of mine,” you sigh, gaze drifting back to Ghost. You fidget with your ring again, picking at its smooth, rounded edges with your nails.

“No wearing them where anyone can see ‘em, if one of us leaves for a mission then whoever’s staying behind keeps both of them, and if we both have to leave, the rings go in a small safe in my office.”

“That sounds-” Exhausting. “-thorough.”

“You’d be surprised how many captives forget about jewelry. It’s a whole lot easier to get information out of someone the minute you realize they might have someone they want to protect from you.”

There’s an edge to your voice, some kind of mix of nostalgia and resentment and regret.

But Ghost finishes breakfast and Soap decides it’s better not to ask.

-

Day six of waiting out this seemingly never-ending storm and the three of you are sitting in the living room cleaning your array of guns. 

You’re wearing your own clothes for once, a dark cotton tank top and black sweatpants that lets Soap see the full extent of bruising and bandages around your arms. A long bruise stretches across your neck, still purple and blue, and Soap suddenly understands the uneven hoarseness of your voice.

Your hair is up, pulled out of your face so you can focus on your work. Soap can see the scar from the humvee on the side of your head as it disappears behind your ear.

The ear that hides your tattoo.

It’s a quiet afternoon; it’d be a shame to break the peace. 

“When did you get the tattoo?” he asks anyway. You don’t answer until you look up and find him staring back at you.

“What tattoo?” you ask in genuine confusion.

“The little ghost behind your ear.”

Ghost freezes, head slowly turning to look at you. “What ghost?”

“Oh, that. I got it after Russia,” you shrug. “Whole mission was a total shitshow, but it reminded me how easily you can lose someone, so, after, I found the nearest shop and got it done.”

You return to your guns, but Ghost’s eyes are trained on you. Soap can see the gears in his head turning, and he briefly worries that maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

“Thought we agreed: no marks, symbols, or tattoos.”

A sharp laugh escapes your mouth, eyes flicking up to Ghost in disbelief. “So if I check out that chaotic sleeve of yours, you’re telling me I won’t find a little hornet hidden somewhere in there?”

A beat of silence.

Ghost grunts and returns to his guns and you grin victoriously at Soap.

-

The power goes out on day nine. 

Ghost is messing around with the fuse box. At the same time, you and Soap have decided to follow “sleepover law”, lighting the house up with candles, moving the sofa and coffee table to build a nest of pillows and blankets in front of the lit fireplace, and piling a collection of snacks nearby.

He can hear the two of you laughing in the living room, you exchanging old mission tales for stories about Soap’s nieces and nephews. Ghost sighs, his fourth and last idea to get the power back on failing miserably. He’s frustrated and annoyed and can feel that itch just under his skin that tells him to isolate. 

To do that, he’d have to go upstairs.

And to get upstairs, he’d have to go through the living room and pass by-

Your laugh echoes down the hallway, and Ghost can feel some of the tension ease from his bones. The itch is still there– the immediate need to run and hide to deal with any sort of negative emotion by himself– but it lessens when he remembers you’re nearby.

He shuts the fuse box, deciding he’s not going to get anything fixed right now. Instead, he wanders down the hall, stopping just before he reaches the living room to lean against the wall and listen to you and Soap.

“I have to ask-” Soap starts, mischief laced in his voice, “-the mask. Does he ever take it off?”

“If he wants to,” you reply through gentle laughter. 

“Really? So what if he doesn’t want to? Does he sleep with it on?”

“Sometimes.”

“What about when you two…”

There’s a brief pause before you snort and answer in a quiet purr, “Sometimes.”

“Nah, yer bum’s oot the windae!”

“...I don’t know what that means, but you asked!”

“You’re not serious!”

“Totally am! I mean…I wouldn’t’ve married him if I wasn’t into it.”

Ghost loves you more than anything in the world, but there’s nothing more he wants right now than for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow him whole.

-

It’s late, almost reaching into the early morning hours, and Soap cannot sleep. He doesn’t know what’s keeping him awake; he just knows that no matter what he tries, he can’t fall asleep.

After the third hour of tossing and turning and grumbling, he gets out of bed and heads to the kitchen. He does his best to keep quiet, all his stealth training kicking in.

He’s halfway across the living room when–

“Watch your step.”

It takes everything in him not to scream as your voice travels up from the floor. Soap looks down to find you lying on your back on the fluffy brown rug, your legs outstretched and resting atop the coffee table.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus! What the hell are you doing on the floor?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Came down here for some floor time.”

“Floor time?”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” You raise your brows at him, reaching out to pat the empty spot next to you.

He stares down at you, but you meet his gaze, eyes wide and unblinking to the point it almost freaks him out. Soap relents, bending down to lay next to you. You clap your hands in victory, scooting over to give him more room.

Soap gets himself comfortable, crossing his feet on top of the coffee table next to yours. You two lay in silence, staring up at the ceiling in the quiet dark. 

It is kind of calming, he has to admit.

“I used to do this with Riley,” you speak softly, barely above a whisper. “I’d lay down, and then he’d lay on me. At first, I thought he just wanted to use me as a pillow, but I think it was more of a grounding thing…he was a smart one, that dog.”

“What…happened to him?”

“He got old. K9 unit retired him, and Simon and I took care of him until…Simon was devastated when we had him put down. He refused to come back here for months after. Said the house was ‘too quiet’.”

“Could always have a kid or two,” Soap jokes. “House wouldn’t be quiet for a long while.”

“No,” you snap.

He sits up, propping himself on his elbows so he can face you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s not…you’re fine, Soap.” You release a long sigh, pulling your feet off the coffee table and sitting up straight. You stretch, back popping painfully from too much time on the ground.

“We’ve talked about kids,” you mumble, fingers moving to fidget with your ring. You look back at him– grey moonlight reflecting off your watery eyes. “Maybe in another life.”

Soap pushes himself to sit up completely, reaching out to settle a comforting hand on your shoulder. You flinch at the contact– relaxing when you realize you’re alright– and Soap pulls his hand away with an apologetic smile.

“Another dog, then? Or a cat? Ghost seems like a cat person.”

You make a sound, some sort of half-scoff, half-laugh that’s muddled by the knot in your throat.

“How 'bout a fish?” 

“A fish it is, then.” Soap hears your watery laugh as you wipe your eyes with your sleeve. You scoot back to sit next to him, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.

“I’ll name him Soap, just for you.”

"Thanks, Doc."

-

It’s a whole two weeks later from the day they arrived when the water has eased enough outside for Ghost and Soap to go out and check the roads. 

You sit on the porch, tucked into a dry chair and another one of Ghost’s hoodies with a hot mug of tea warming your hands. Initially, you wanted to go with them, but Ghost refused swiftly and sternly. You argued that you needed the fresh air, and the compromise was made that you could settle on the porch and keep an eye out while they walked down the road.

Everything looked good, no mudslides, no floods, no fallen trees, so he and Ghost decided to head back and get ready to leave. 

Soap spots you as they near the house, staring off towards the brook near the house. You look so calm, so serene that he almost hates to disturb you. But Ghost has no qualms about interrupting your peace as he marches straight up to the house. You don’t seem to mind, judging by the way your face lights up at the sight of him.

He’s had almost every question answered, Soap realizes as he watches Ghost offer you a hand to help you out of your chair, and you use the momentum to pull yourself up and kiss him on the cheek. 

There’s only question left-

“Hey, Ghost?” he asks, once the three of you are back inside. 

Ghost pauses his cooking, looking back at him over his right shoulder.

“How did you propose?”

“What?”

Soap expected that, but he hadn’t expected you to start snickering from where you’re perched on the counter next to Ghost with your head resting on his left shoulder.

“It’s just…I’ve been thinking about it for a while. And there’s no engagement pictures in that photo album so-”

“I didn’t.”

“You…what?”

“I didn’t propose,” Ghost sighs.

Oh…

Oh!

Soap turns to you and your triumphant– if a bit smug– grin. “I beat him to it.”

“By two days,” Ghost huffs, turning back to the food on the stove. “Patience is a virtue, but not one of yours.” You giggle, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder over his shirt. Ghost nudges you away with a grunt. You lean back for a few seconds before setting your chin on his shoulder so you can stare lovingly at the side of his face. Ghost sighs, letting it happen and turning briefly to lightly tap his head against yours.

“How did you know?” 

The question spills from Soap’s lips the moment he catches that little interaction.

“Know what?” you ask, turning to lay your head down, smushing your cheek on Ghost’s shoulder.

“That you wanted to propose. How’d you know you were the ones for each other?”

You sit up, eyes never leaving Ghost, who’s gone unusually still. An uncomfortable tension fills the air, swelling like a balloon ready to burst.

“It was after Sweden,” Ghost mumbles minutes later. He puts the stove on low heat and turns to you, your eyes meeting as he steadily holds your gaze. “We were clearing out that abandoned building, and you found this kid, couldn’t have been more than five…maybe six? They were so scared, but you managed to get them to calm down and come with us. We cleared the place but got ambushed as we were leaving. You gave me the kid and shoved me out of the back exit and-”

“Took a bullet meant for you,” you finish softly. Your hand comes up to graze just below your stomach, absentmindedly clenching the fabric over the spot.

The face you made when he’d brought up children flashes through Soap’s mind.

Maybe in another life.

“Didn’t realize how scared I was of losing you until that moment. You always seemed so sure, so indestructible, like there wasn’t anything that could kill you, like you’d always be there. And then you weren’t, and I thought that was the end until you finally got out of surgery. Wasn’t gonna let you get away after that.”

Tears well up in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks. You try your best to wipe them away, a smile of a million different emotions directed at Ghost. Ghost reaches out, sets a hand on your knee, and you meet his eyes before glancing over and realizing Soap is still there– grinning like an idiot.

“Well, I knew the day we met,” you laugh through your tears. Ghost scoffs, playfully squeezing your knee before returning his attention to the food. “It’s true; you can ask Firefly. Moment you started training with us and flipped Grizzly on his ass, I told her, ‘I’m gonna marry that man’.”

“Fuck off.”

-

They’re packed and ready to leave the next morning.

Soap’s tugging on his boots while Ghost locks up the weapons cabinet, and you stand off to the side, watching. You haven’t said a word all morning, just leaning against the wall with your eyes fixated on Ghost. 

Ghost shuts the cabinet with a sigh as Soap finishes lacing up his boots. Ghost glances at him, different this time– a silent ask for a moment alone with his wife.

Soap gets the message, loud and clear.

“Don’t worry, Doc. You’ll be back in your infirmary treating our stab wounds soon enough.” You huff in amusement, giving him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“I’ll see you soon, Soap.” He nods at you and turns to head out the door.

He leans against the wall just outside the front door, staring at the clear brook water that washes over smooth stones until he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. He looks over and realizes he can see straight through the glass of the door where you and Ghost stand, feet apart from each other.

He should look away, get a head start down the road.

But when has he ever done that?

Instead, he watches Ghost slide the mask from his face, giving you a single nod before you launch forward and attach yourself to him. He holds you close like he’s trying to absorb you into his body, keeping you as close as physically possible. You pull back from him– only slightly– and Ghost wipes away the tears falling down your face. He reaches behind your neck, messing with the clasp of your necklace before his ring slides down the silver metal to meet yours at the bottom.

Your hands wind their way around the collar of his jacket, pulling him forward into a kiss he eagerly accepts. There’s no such thing as a goodbye kiss in the Riley household; goodbyes imply never seeing each other again, and that is a future neither you will accept. Instead, it’s a promise. 

A promise to stay alive, to come back. 

A promise either of you has yet to break.

You pull away, murmuring something against his lips. Soap’s never been a great lip reader, but it’s not hard to tell what you’re saying.

You better come back to me, Simon Riley.

Always.

Another kiss, and the mask is back on, slid into place by your steady hands. Ghost sets his forehead against yours, one last moment together before the inevitable separation. 

Soap turns away when Ghost steps back from you, focusing his gaze on a small leaf on the ground until Ghost walks out of the house, shutting the door behind him.

“Let’s go, Sergeant.”

[luveline]

aaahhh okay wait imagine Emily is away on a case longer than usual and comes home without telling r to surprise her and sees that reader has been like idk wearing her shirt or sleeping with her pillow or idk just like something to feel close to her

thank you for your request ♡ fem!reader

Emily knows you're in her bed before she's so much as opened her front door. She lives in a nice building across from Washington, DC, in an apartment that glows with the lights of the city. It takes time to get home after a case, but the view isn't one you'd find anywhere else. 

She'd fly a hundred hour flight if it meant getting to ch ome home to you. It sounds silly and corny, like a fairytale she didn't believe in, but there's something about you that inspires cliches. Like, your beat up converse arranged neatly so as not to disrupt her tower of high heels and boots. Your coat on the rack with the arms and hood smoothed down, and the way you arrange Sergei's food and water bowls intricately every time you visit because you're aware of Emily's penchant for orderliness. 

She knows you're here because of all of these things, but really, she has a freaky sixth sense when it comes to you, and seeing you curled up on her side of the bed cements it perfectly. 

She locks her gun away in its safe and puts her shoes and jacket away. Quiet, she slinks to where you're sleeping with the sheets up to your nose and bends down to check you over. She knows nothing has happened since she saw you last, but it doesn't matter. She needs to look at you properly. 

You're on your side, face angled down, arm a lump under the sheets. Emily smiles and, despite the singing urge to wipe away the day's faded makeup and brush out curls crunchy with hairspray, lingers, holding her hand up to your face, stroking a short line.

You won't wake from it. Maybe you're a heavy sleeper or maybe you know it's her, but she never wakes you up when she comes home. 

Sergei snores little nosed snores from his fluffy bed. Emily laughs as you do the same, though she frets (and she'd deny it if anyone asked, but frets all the same) that you can't breathe with the blankets smushed to your nose as they are. 

Gently, she pulls down the sheets. 

Her lips fall from their fond smile. Tucked in your arms like a life jacket is a soft white camisole, the last shirt Emily slept in before she left. 

She isn't excessively loud about loving you —she isn't quiet about wanting you, but that isn't the same— and you aren't overly forthcoming. 

Which isn't to say she doesn't feel loved, Emily knows she's loved in the same way you must know it, with the burning, aching sort of desire that has you pinching her hips when she walks by, or begging her to share a shower with you even if it'll make her late for work. But Emily hadn't realised how much you loved her in this sense. The difference between missing her company and missing the intrinsic smell of her skin is unsaid and yet yawning; you love her enough to curl around a dirty t-shirt. This is the kind of love that grows old together. 

Emily's particular about things, but not tonight. Fuck it, she hopes she gets mascara on the silk pillow case as she climbs into bed behind you. Let it be a monument to how she feels, any hint of fatigue replaced with silky soft wanting. 

"'Mily?" you murmur, covering her arm where it curves over your waist. 

"No," she whispers, "axe murderer. Sorry, babe, welcome to your nightmare." 

"I had a good run." You push her back a touch as you roll onto your back, squinting at her through thick-knitted lashes. 

"You can sleep. I'll still be here in the morning, I promise." 

"Y'here now. Missed you, Emily," you murmur, turning more, vying to hold her waist as she holds yours. You sound a little upset, but that could be the sudden wake up call. 

"I'm sorry," she says, smiling at you in hopes of getting one back. "But I'm home early. That's a good thing, right?" 

"Can I put my face in your neck?" you ask. 

Emily tries to say yes. All she can summon is a mute nod and a tight smile —she's happy, yeah, but she feels strangely like crying. It's a scary thing, finding out how loved you are. Suddenly she has to worry about it being taken away. 

You wrap your arms around her, your skin hot with a furnace like heat. Mumbling, your face fits into the curve of her neck, your lips skipping against it as you say, "Love you… you okay?" 

Her smile shocks back to life. She presses it to your forehead without hesitation. "I'm fine now. Love you. You can go back to sleep." 

"I really really missed you." 

Emily feels each word fan against her neck. It's a sensation she's sure she'll remember for years to come. "I missed you, too." 

[perdidosbucky-yyo]

Find the joy

Drabble

Pairing: Mechanic!Steve Rogers x Reader (no mention of body type or ethnicity)

Summary: When it rains it pours.

Warnings: angsty angst, serious money problems, implied sick parent and I think that's it, pls let me know if I missed something <3

a/n: i saw this gifset by @meidui and Steve's sad lil face unleashed this 😭 sometimes it's hard not having enough money to live comfortably guys, taking the bus every day, buying the cheapest brand at the grocery store, seeing my mom cry bc she can't quit the job she hates, sigh... it was nice to imagine going through it with Steve :')

wc: 1.1k

When you were younger you always assumed once you met that person who is supposed to love you as you are, always and forever, life's problems would cease to exist, because you found the love of your life.

After your first heartbreak, you realized you were sorely mistaken, you felt stupid for ever believing that fairytale.

Life is cruel and often unfair, whether it was the environment or politics, the world kept on letting you down, your whole life you worked hard for the bare minimum, your mother worked two jobs to pay for college, while watching others live life just a bit easier, or at least not worrying if they could afford groceries that week.

Despite your differences, you were grateful for having a strong mother, she taught you to find joy in the mundane and to never allow your worries to overpower your spirit for too long, because there is joy in the world, the trick is to find it.

For a long time, after countless jerks and disappointments, you thought love was just a glorified infatuation, maybe your career was enough... you'd make it be enough.

But one early morning, on your way to a job interview, your mother's car broke down, but as tears were already staining your freshly steamed blouse, you realized you had the card for a mechanic, the best one in the city according to your sister.

After calling, you expected the Mario bros but instead, the most beautiful men you'd ever seen in your life drove in, while the 6'0'' brunette checked out your car, you felt weirdly comfortable enough to sob about your missed opportunity to the 6'2'' blonde.

By the time you were dying your tears, Steve you'd learned his name was, wouldn't have it, offering to give you a ride to your interview, you were about to kiss him on the spot but instead promised him a date if you got the job.

You didn't get the job, but you still called Steve, he was unlike anyone you'd ever met, loyal, kind borderline bleeding heart, chivalrous, romantic, and a goody two shoes.

Now, after almost 10 years together, and 5 of them married, you never doubted the existence of love again, you felt it with every heartbeat, you saw it in his eyes every day.

But life was still life despite being married to the love of your life.

Cats and dogs poured down as you closed the door behind you, shaking off your pink water boots you cursed yourself when you got mud on the floor.

It was past 7pm so you knew Steve was home, he'd usually be making dinner with Marvin Gaye in the background, but the apartment was quiet, with only the rain to fill the silence.

You found in the kitchen a pizza box waiting to be eaten so now you were sure he was home, and since the apartment only had 3 bedrooms, there could only be one other place he could be.

And there he was, sitting in the rain on the fire escape, shoulders down, as his eyes admired the rain.

Worry weighed down in your bones, and in seconds you were by his side, placing a hand on his back to rub, his broad shoulders tensed as he shook his head.

He'd always welcomed your touch, and now he wouldn't even look at you... "Honey what's wrong?" you whispered, afraid of the answer.

Over the years Steve has been your rock, he was calm in a crisis and often grounded you when you needed it, if Steve was known for one thing, it was that he always gets back up again, and as you watched the defeat underlining his eyes it made your stomach churn seeing him like this.

When you saw a single tear roll down his cheek, nothing mattered anymore and you only wanted to comfort him, sitting on his lap, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your hands cupped his face against your chest.

As you kissed his temple you felt his whole body relax "I got fired" he croaked, and then silence.

You don't know for how long you stayed like that, you wouldn't let each other go, maybe hoping the rain would wash away your troubles, or maybe just not ready to talk yet.

His big hands traced your back softly as he sniffed, he could feel your skin was freezing cold, that's when he gripped you and finally carried you inside, not stopping until he reached the bathroom.

He thought about making a nice warm bath but before he could, he remembered the water bill, and now that he was out of a job, you'd have to be even more careful with your expenses.

As he turned on the water, you sensed his unease so you started to slowly get him out of his uniform, peppering kisses as more and more skin was exposed, and as he let out a shuddering breath of relief, you gave him a small smile.

After you finished lathering soap on each other and washing your hair, he was about to step out when you held onto his bicep, "Stay", his eyes told you he wanted to indulge you, and you knew he also needed comfort, but he shook his head.

"just for 2 minutes" you encouraged "I won't shower tomorrow" you giggled but only got a subtle smile in return.

As he towered over you again, his hands rested on your back as he embraced you, but when you sighed into his chest, he released you and stepped out of the shower.

turning off the water and wrapping yourself in a towel, you followed behind, but before you could say a word, he was already in his gray sweatpants and sitting on the edge of the bed with his head between his hands.

Taking his hands in yours, his head now rested against your stomach, "we'll be o-"

"Are you happy?" Steve's voice trembled, his eyes shining with the threat of tears as he looked into yours. As you thought of your answer for a second, your hands cupped his face "Not right now" you muttered honestly, he fiscally recoiled but you gripped his face still, begging him to listen to you.

"It's been hard" you exhale "paying off the car, taking care of my mom", now it was your voice that threatened to break, "We wanted to start trying" you lamented and Steve instinctively kissed the inside of your wrist and nodded in response.

"We have to look for the joy" he whispered your mother's words, you smiled and let yourself be wrapped up in his arms, "I've loved you and our marriage every single moment of it," you said into his ear, "as long as we get through it together, we'll be ok".

"I love you" he promised, as he pulled you under the covers, pressed against him, there was nothing more left to say that night, you would talk more in the morning, and as the rain washed away the day, Steve never let go.

[redheadspark]

Never Let You Go

Summary - It was tradition in your family: to go on a night flight

Warnings - Just some good ol' fluff :)

A/N - Part of my Ocean Eyes Series, this is where Alec is 3 years old!

As soon as Azriel opened the door gently, toeing off his boots to put along the shoe rack that was against the wall, he heard the soft pattering of feet running his way, having him break into a smile so wide.

"Daddy!"

He looked just in time as his legs were locked together by tiny arms, chuckling as a tiny body was against his legs and a pair of bright blue eyes looking right at him in excitement.  He beamed, seeing the tiny Illyrian boy peer up at him as if he hung the moon.  It was the same boy that he would work long hours for, go on treacherous missions with his life on the line, merely to give him a bright and safe future.  

His 3 year old, Alec Rhysand.

"I've missed you, daddy!" He said in his tiny but mighty voice.  Azriel's smile was massive now as he scooped up his son in his arms, tickling his side to hear Alec giggle while he held him close.

"I've missed you more, Alec.  Were you good for your momma?"Azriel asked him as his son nodded.

"Uh-huh!  I got to help her plant some flowers from Aunty Elaine today!" He said in excitement, "They're called sunflowers, they're Aunty Elaine's favorite!"

"That's nice of you!" Azriel said in a hum, placing his son back on the floor, "Where is your momma?"

"She's working on your birthday present!" He said excitedly, but he then slammed his mouth shut and covered his mouth with his fingers "I wasn't supposed to tell you!  It's a surprise!" He said in a muffle behind his fingers.

Azriel kissed the top of his head, "Your secret's safe with me, buddy.  Promise.  You wanna go tell momma I'm home so I don't peak?"

Alec nodded excitedly, rushing off with his little feet down the small hallway to the shared bedroom as Azriel shrugged off his leathers.  There was something about this little life, coming home after being away for hours on end to see his mate and son, having a small little home to hide away in from the chaos around him, he never thought he would ever want this.  Truthfully, he never thought he could have this life, it seemed like a fever dream to him for centuries.  To watch his loved ones have their families, to have their fairytale lives, Azriel coveted them at times.

Not anymore, not with this life he had now.

He inhaled your sweet scent as you walked into the living room, seeing you brought another wave of happiness as you grinned widely at him.  He pulled you in his arms, breathing you in to breathe in the scent of soil and lavender along your skin, along with the coffee you recently had.  You hummed, kissing his cheek as he peered at you lovingly.

"I've missed you today," he hummed.

"As did I," You replied, then pausing as you searched his eyes, "Feyre told me you were doing some recon today?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, trust me" He reassured you, seeing the small hint of concern as he squeezed your hand in his, "Just whispers that Rhysand wanted to confirm were true,"

You knew he would never lie to you when it came to his Spymaster duties and what he had to do, but you also knew that he could only tell you so much before the rest was confidential.  Azriel was more than capable of taking care of himself when it came to spying or going on missions, he's done far too many for you to keep track.  Then again, knowing him for so long and seeing him become the Spymaster of Night Court, you have also seen him get into way too close calls.  Even coming home shaken to his core or a bit bloody from a mission going wrong, you still trusted him.  There was no other being in any court that you trust more than your mate.

"Whispers?" You repeated, Azriel smiling and leaning in to kiss you sweetly.  You hummed against his lips, feeling him pull you in a pinch closer to take your breath away. You had to give him credit, he knew how to distract you, which was a good tactic for a Spymaster to use to get what he wanted.  

He barely pulled away, his lips brushing against your own as he grinned, "Whispers.  I promise you,"

Though you eyed him you finally grinned and playfully pushed him away, hearing him laugh as you placed your hands on your hips, "I have dinner nearly done in the oven, and Nesta wants us to join her and Cassian at the House of Wind for dinner tomorrow night,"

"That should be fine," Azriel hummed as he ruffled his hair and followed you into the kitchen, seeing you poke your head in the oven to check on the chicken that was roasting and shift around the vegetables with a spoon, "Nesta's far along with her pregnancy isn't she?"

"She's due very soon," You explained, "I'm going to get some herbs together for her and cook her some meals too since I know it'll be harder for her to do it herself,"

"My wife, the saint," Azriel joked with you, though he ducked his head just in time as you threw a hand towel in his direction.  He admired you wanting to help Nesta with her pregnancy, the news was a shock in all of the Inner Circle when Nesta made the announcement.  After the shock diminished within a second, it was replaced with pure joy and happiness for her and Cassian, who was beaming with pride and giddiness.   Nesta had plenty of questions and concerns about being a new mother, even with you and Feyre giving her plenty of advice and wisdom to soothe her worries.  In the end, as her belly grew, so did her love for her unborn child.  

She was determined she was having a boy, but Cassian shook his head at that theory, "It's a girl, I just know it,"

After Azriel and Alec washed up and helped set the table, the three of you were sitting around your cramped table and enjoying the dinner you made as the moon was slowly rising over the mountaintop, the stars finally making their appearance while the sun was now set over the bay.  You watched Alec attempt to take a massive bite from the chicken, giving him a stern look as he was about to tear it with his teeth.

"Remember to use your fork, okay?" You reminded him calmly, seeing him nod as he grabbed his utensil.

"Sorry, momma," He replied, you then ruffling his hair as Azriel cleared his throat.

"Alec, Aunt Nesta, and Uncle Cassian invited us to dinner at their house tomorrow night," he informed your son, who perked up at the mention of his Aunt and Uncle, "You think we can bring them some food too?"

"Sure!  I can make them the stew Aunty Nesta likes!" He said with a smile, "Is Aunty Nesta gonna have her baby soon?"

"It's almost time for that, buddy," You explained to him carefully, "But it's getting harder for her to do things now, so we're going to help her out as much as we can before the baby comes,"

"Oh, I can lift things for her since I'm strong!  See?" Alec asked, flexing his tiny muscles in his arms.  You giggled as Azriel smiled widely.

"You're quite strong, Alec. " Azriel hummed, reaching over to touch his arm and looking at his son in shock, "I think you're stronger than your Uncles!"

Alec laughed and hid his smile behind his tiny hands, you watching your mate and son having their interaction together with love in your eyes.  Your meals together were always like this: light and filled with laughter of some sort.  It was on purpose, of course, both you and Azriel loved making your meals with your son joyful.  No matter how crazy your days were and how cramped your schedules were, dinner time was sacred for the three of you.  A time to reconnect and to catch up on each other's days, a time to lean on each other when times were a little together.

But most of all, it was a time to simply fill each other up again.

"Daddy, can we go flying tonight?" Alec asked as he took a smaller bite from his chicken, Azriel eyeing him first before he looked over at you.  You smiled, taking a bit from your plate as your son was waiting for an answer from his father.  You felt it in the bond, the feeling of excitement and joy your mate was feeling with the thought of flying with his son in his arms.  It was one of his new favorite things to do with Alec, almost a tradition of sorts.  Once Alec was big enough to not be in a sling or strapped against you, either you or Azriel would hold him close and fly with him amongst the stars along the countryside.  He was far too small to be taken high in the sky, but you both would take him high enough to see the city below and to look at the sea.  

"Are you sure you wanna go fly?" Azriel asked, almost in a teasing tone since he knew the answer right away while Alec nodded his head rapidly and you hummed fondly.

"Remember what we talked about, Alec.  It's up to your dad and if he wants to fly since he's been working all day today," You reminded your son, who looked at you earnestly and then back at Azriel.  You could see from your spot at the table that Alec's eyes were shining in hope, a small little tactic that he would use on either one of you to get his way.  Although he wasn't a spoiled child, nor was he rude, he was cute and would use that to his advantage from time to time.

"Please, daddy?  Please?"  Alec asked him, his blue eyes shining under the dining room light and the look of pure innocence on his face as Azriel smiled from ear to ear.  If he could, he would give his son the world and then some, simply because he loved his son far too much.  Far more than himself.  To see his son grow every day, to watch him develop and make his path with the guidance of his mother and father, Azriel could not be more proud of Alec.  

"As long as you help clear the table, then we can fly," Azriel said to him with a nod, Alec nearly jumped straight up in the air in glee as he fell out of his chair and rushed to Azriel.  He hugged him close, Azriel chuckled as tiny arms were around him.

"Thank you, Daddy!" He said against Azriel's shirt, then grabbed Azriel's finished plate and walked a bit too briskly to the kitchen sink.  You eyed your mate, seeing him slightly shrug from the stare you were giving him.  

"You can't say no to him, can you?" You asked him in a teasing manner, though Azriel knew you meant well with your words.

"I don't have the heart to," Azriel confessed, you two gazing at each other as if you were young lovers all over again.  However, the moment was short-lived as the sound of clattering dishes in the sink was heard.  

"Sorry, Momma!" You heard.  Both you and Azriel trying to contain your laughter.

"Alright, you got your jacket on?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Remember, what are my rules about flying with me?"

"I can't let go of you, I can't wiggle too much, and….and…". Alec paused, concentrating a bit too hard while he stood right in front of your cottage.  You were shrugging on your jacket as Azriel knelt to tuck in the jacket Alec was wearing a bit more.  He smiled at his son, who was now looking at his father for the last rule.

"Have fun, remember?" Azriel asked him, Alec giggling as he nodded his head, "And remember what I tell you every time we fly?"

"That you won't let me go!" Alec replied with no hesitation.  Azriel felt his heart swell from hearing his son say that, ruffling his hair as he peered into his son's eyes.

"I will never let you go,"  He reassured Alec. 

It was the first thing Azriel ever said to Alec when he took him flying for the first time.  When Alec was a small babe, swaddled in his arms and looked up at his father in wonder as Azriel peered down at his infant child.  He loved holding Alec when he was younger, finding every excuse to keep his child tucked close to him and feel his heartbeat and warmth.  You remembered the very first time, Alec was a few months old and was acting rather fussy for you since you were trying to put him down for the night.  It was his suggestion to hold him while flying, though he saw you were petrified at the thought of your son being so high up.  So he opted to simply hover over the ground, the soft rhythm was making Alec beyond sleepy as he fought to stay awake and watch his father with immense love in his eyes. 

Azriel kissed the top of his infant son's head as Alec fell asleep, whispering against his head, "I'll never let you go,"

Azriel picked up Alec, his hands under his armpits as Alec already shot out his hands in preparation.  Azriel's wings were out and stretched at the ready, Alec already kicking in excitement while you were standing near the small garden that was to the side of the house.  

"You ready?" Azriel asked, Alec giggled and nodded his head.  Azriel then took to the air with one swoop of his wings, Alec laughing as he was now soaring by the tops of the trees and dipping downwards to catch some speed.  Azriel made it look so easy, the way he would glide in the air with swift movements and precise turns, yet at the same time he wasn't going too fast for his son who was laughing and screeching.  

"Go Daddy!" You could hear Alec yelling in delight as Azriel was getting a bit higher now, right over the cottage as he was making massive circles around the clearing and grassland where your home was.  Alec had no sense of fear, not when he was protected by his father and flying with him.  Though you loved flying with your son just as much, you knew deep down Alec would pick his dad over anybody else.  

Perhaps you were taking a bit too long watching them in the air, or you were lost in your train of thought, but Azriel flew back down to hover in front of you, Alec sporting the biggest smile on his face as he gestured at you.

"Come on, momma!  Come fly with me and Daddy!" He said to you, almost in a plead as you stretched out your wings. Azriel held his son a pinch tighter against his chest as you were getting your wings ready.  You finally felt yourself lift off the ground, the crisp air against your skin and within your hair, the shining moon that was now hovering right over Velaris, it all felt perfect as you were now joining your mate and son in the air.

You too loved to fly, not being able to as much since you were tending to your son. But still, flying was second nature to you, a soothing sensation felt all over your body as you would take to the sky and let your wings carry you.  Before Alec came into your life, you loved flying with Azriel side by side amongst the stars and on the darkest nights.  It was a sacred time for you two to share and unwind together after a long hard day or a day filled with grief. 

To share it with your son, was memorable.

As you held a sleeping Alec in your arms, taking him into his bedroom to change him into his pajamas and tuck him into his bed, Azriel was right behind you to watch with love in his hazel eyes.  Seeing his son asleep and content in his mother's hold, being nestled into his blankets and already snoring away as you kissed his raven hair.  Azriel wanted this for the rest of his days, a simple moment of seeing his son safe in his bed and already dreaming of new adventures. Then he pulled you in his arms, and you both walked across the hall to your bedroom to undress each other into your own pajamas and hold each other close in your bed. 

Azriel watched you asleep, head on his shoulder and your lips slightly pursed as your light hair shined from the moonlight.  He counted his lucky stars daily, more than once a day, that you were there with him and loving him through the good and the bad.  There were plenty of times in the past when he thought you would indeed walk away, a bad choice on his part of a too-close call with a mission he was on.  Azriel knew the sacrifice you made, and he wondered from time to time if being with him was the right choice.  

He could only lean over to kiss your head, you humming and wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him in closer as you whispered with your eyes closed, "Sleep, my love.  All is well,"

Azriel fell asleep to those three words, knowing they were true. 

The End

Tagged - @valeridarkness @impossibelle @acourtofbatboydreams @prettylittlewrites @fxckmiup

[sonntam]

I don't think I've seen a write-up on various fairy-tale and Russian sayings references in the English translation, so I'd like to make one.

"Puddles make poor drinks" and "Gorkhon water will turn you into livestock": what's up with that?

There is a fairytale about a big sister and the little brother. They walk for a long time and the brother is very thirsty. His big sister keeps telling him to keep going and not to drink from the puddles, like a goat. Eventually the little brother drinks from the puddle.

And promptly turns into a goat.

Rest of the fairytale is about the big sister returning the little brother to his original form.

So, this is where the talks about puddles and water turning you into livestock is about.

The Akela joke did not work at all in the translation.

It comes from Mowgli, which is well known due to the USSR cartoon. In the book (and in the cartoon) the elderly wolf leader Akela misses during a hunt... after which he promptly is deposed as a leader of the pack. Mowgli loses his protection and this is a Big Deal.

So whenever a boss in real life makes a silly mistake (say, throwing a paperball into the bin and missing) everyone thinks it's very funny to say "Akela missed!" implying that they will get a new boss now and the current one will get deposed for this mistake.

Here "Akela never misses" means that Khan being at risk of infection and coming into the nutshell does not diminish his importance at all and his dogheads are just as loyal as before, happily delivering loot to him.

There is a saying: "Better a sparrow in hand, than a stork in the sky."

It means that you should treasure what you have, instead of preferring that which you can't get (so easily).

Lara Ravel references that she can't be happy with the little she has. She wants to help others and for this she needs more.

"Maybe I could be useful to you" is a classic thing that various animals say to people in fairytales, once they are caught and plead for their lives.

I think, this is a popular trope in English fairytales as well, but the phrasing here is lifted directly from fairytales in Russian, so pointing it out either way.

"Everyone's shirt is closer to their skin" is a well known Russian saying.

It means that your happiness and comfort is always more important to you than the comfort of other people. Hence: your shirt is closer to your skin, so you care about it more.

"Silence implies assent" is another popular saying (it even rhymes in Russian).

If someone proposes a course of action and no one speaks out against it or for it, then people usually say "silence is a sign of assent" and consider the matter settled. (Or, more often, people then suddenly say that they disagree and you get a more lively and productive conversation.)

I can't find another screenshot, but Dankovsky says something similar about "I wore down seven pairs of shoes getting to this town".

It obviously could be taken as a factual statement, but most likely it's a reference to fairytales.

In a lot of fairytales the protagonist will be given on a long journey seven pairs of iron boots. Once all of them break, the hero has reached his destination.

Same here: it's a fairytale way of saying that you had a long and arduous journey (or in Capella's case, ran around the whole town for years).

"I'll just peek with one eye" is another popular Russian phrase.

"Can I look?"

"No"

"How about if I look with just one eye?"

Obviously, it's nonsense, but it's a typical thing to say if you REALLY want to look at something, so you just say "pleeeease, I will just look only a little".

[sundove88]

Introducing Anime Ever After!!

Ever wanted to experience classic fairytales but through the lens of legendary and lesser known anime?

Well, Anime Ever After is for you!!

Synopsis: An anthropology of famous stories from around the world retold through the lens of legendary and lesser known anime, with modern twists, turns, and lessons about. From the depths of the sea in DBZ: Waves of Freedom (The Little Mermaid) to the realm beyond the clouds in One Piece: Beyond The Sky (Jack and The Beanstalk), this ever expanding treasury of tales has something for everyone.

Framing Device: An anime loving teenager is telling classic fairytales to the kids they babysit as bedtime stories- with a twist!

Side Note: Nursery Rhymes being adapted is more for Shrek. So they won’t be here- sorry about that. But they do a good job at it. This anthology is meant for readers 12 and up, due to some of the themes in some of the stories.

Btw, look for the posts that have anime ever after on them as one of their tags. Here’s the list of tales (So Far):

Dragon Ball Z: Waves of Freedom (The Little Mermaid)

My Hero Academia: Heart of Glass (Cinderella)

Attack on Titan: Red Hood (Little Red Riding Hood)

One Piece: Beyond The Sky (Jack and The Beanstalk)

Naruto: Sleeping Shadow (Sleeping Beauty)

Sword Art Online: The Match Player (The Little Match Girl)

FullMetal Alchemist: Iron Wolves (The 3 Little Pigs)

Fairy Tail: Mirrors of Deceit (Snow White)

Inuyasha: Soul of The Beast (Beauty and The Beast)

Bleach: Brushes of Fate (The Magic Paintbrush)

Fruits Basket: The 12 Dancing Zodiacs (12 Dancing Princesses)

Black Clover: The Frog Knight (The Frog Prince)

Hunter X Hunter: Spreading Your Wings (The Ugly Duckling)

Demon Slayer: Demon of The Northern Wind (The Snow Queen)

Black Butler: Beyond The Tower (Rapunzel)

Yu Yu Hakusho: Sweet Temptation (Hansel and Gretel)

Doraemon; Fearless Feline (Puss in Boots)

Gintama: Peachy Keen (Momotaro)

Sailor Moon: Lady of The Waxing Moon (Princess Kaguya)

Haikyuu: Bear-ly Faltering (Snow White and Rose Red)

Railgun: Little Warriors, Big Impacts (Thumbelina)

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: All That Glitters (Rumplestiltskin)

Yu Gi Oh: Diamond in The Rough (Aladdin)

Konosuba: The Royal Test (The Princess and The Pea)

Tokyo Ghoul: The Crimson Amulet (The Red Shoes)

Akame Ga Kill: Fashion Gambit (The Emperor’s New Clothes)

Ouran High School Host Club: Wings of Perseverance (The Wild Swans)

Rurouni Kenshin: The Ronin’s Trials (The Steadfast Tin Soldier)

Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagan: Cage of Steel, Heart of Platinum (The Nightingale)

Cowboy Bebop: Written in The Stars (The Weaver Girl and The Cowherd)

Death Note: The Golden Pen (King Midas)

Neon Genesis Evangelion: No Strings Attached (Pinocchio)

Fate: The Chosen Sword (King Arthur)

BanG Dream!: Melody of Deceit (The Pied Piper)

Code Geass: The Princess and The Pig Man (The Swineherd)

Jujitsu Kaisen: The Light Within (The Buried Moon)

Blue Exorcist: Blazing Bonds (The Firebird)

Spy X Family: Secret of The Statue (The Happy Prince)

Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic: The Enchanted Key (Alibaba and The 40 Thieves)

Re:Zero: Gilded Feathers (The Golden Goose)

Saint Seiya: Divine Trials and Godly Tribulations (The 12 Labors of Hercules)

The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya: Claws of Gold, Hearts of Gold (Goldilocks and The 3 Bears)

One Punch Man: A Hero’s Humility (King Thrushbeard)

Future Diary: Wishful Obsession (The Fisherman and His Wife)

Sket Dance: A Tale of Three Tricksters (The 3 Billy Goats Gruff)

Precure (All seasons): The Sweetest Holiday Ever (The Nutcracker)

Food Wars: A Recipe For Courage (The Brave Little Tailor)

Spice and Wolf: Against All Odds (The Princess on The Glass Hill)

Noragami: Stolen Sun (Amaterasu and The Cave)

Monogatari: Secret Confidants (The Elves and The Shoemaker)

Steins;Gate: Azure Secrets (Bluebeard)

Tokyo Revengers: Neverlanding, Never Faltering (Peter Pan)

The Promised Neverland: Emerald Truths (The Wizard of Oz)

Toriko: Sweet Pursuit (The Gingerbread Man)

Kill La Kill: A Royal Mix Up (The Prince and The Pauper)

World Trigger: The Silent Springtime (The Selfish Giant)

The Seven Deadly Sins: Curse of Shade and Malice (The Shadow)

Cardcaptor Sakura: Salt and Sugar (The Salt Princess/Cap O Rushes)

Assassination Classroom: Honeyed Words (Diamonds and Toads)

Way of The House Husband: Out of The Cage (Jorinda and Joringel)

Danganronpa The Animation (It covers all the games): Makoto in Wonderland (Alice in Wonderland)

D Gray Man: Song of The Sparkling Swan (Swan Lake)

Persona 5 The Animation: Way Down We Go (Hades and Persephone)

Soul Eater: United We Stand (The Six Who Went Far)

Puella Magi Madoka Magica: The 5 Magical Musketeers (The 3 Musketeers)

Aggretsuko: Four Man Band (The Bremen Town Musicians)

Tokyo Godfathers: A Holiday Journey (A Christmas Carol)

Revolutionary Girl Utena: Emotions Set Free (The Princess Who Never Smiled)

Sonic X: True, Blue, and Noble (Hans The Hedgehog)

Magiknight Rayearth: Noble Flame, Changing Tide, and Guiding Wind (The 3 Princesses of Whiteland)

A Silent Voice: Beyond All Boundaries (East of The Sun, West of The Moon)

A Whisker Away: A Feline Fairytale (The White Cat)

Your Name: A Little Bird Told Me (The Singing, Springing, Lark)

Love Live: A Fateful Adventure (Journey to The West)

Captain Tsubasa: Winging It (The Seven Ravens)

The Ancient Magus Bride: Entrapped Beauty (The Lindworm)

Overlord: Seeds of Trust (The Juniper Tree)

Delicious in Dungeon: Cooking Up Trouble (The Magic Porridge Pot)

Medaka Box: The Truth Above All (The Goose Girl)

Chainsaw Man: Demonic Assistance (The Golden Bird)

Taikobo: Legend of The Lost Kingdom (Urashima Taro)

Revue Starlight: Masked Secrets (Phantom of The Opera)

Ginga: Nagareboshi Gin: Path of The Canine (The Boy Who Cried Wolf)

Dr. Stone: Into The Wilderness (The Jungle Book)

Fire Force: The Flames of Charity (Robin Hood)

Shaman King: Mystery of The Marsh (The Marsh King’s Daughter)

Rave Master: Cloak of Secrets (Donkeyskin/Many Furs)

Ranma 1/2: Loyal, Brave, and True (Mulan)

Karakuri Circus: The House Within The Woods (Vasilisa The Brave and Beautiful)

Devilman Crybaby: Three Hairs of Gold (The Devil With 3 Golden Hairs)

The Irregular at Magic High School: Ring of Enchantments (The Bronze Ring)

Bobobo: One Hairy Tale (Prince Hyacinth)

Shakugan No Shana: Three Dogs, Three Heroes (The Tinderbox)

Nisekoi: Yellow With Affection (The Yellow Dwarf)

Kaiju No. 8: Don’t Get Salty (Why The Sea is Salty)

Kinnikuman: A Mission in Patience (The Tortoise and The Hare)

Oshi No Ko: The Price of Stardom (Little Brother and Little Sister)

Case Closed: Stolen Hearts and Stolen Fortunes (The Master Thief)

Pokemon The Series: An Electrifying Rescue (The Lion and The Mouse)

Hyperdimension Neptunia: The Animation: A Tale of a Thousand and One Nights (1,001 Arabian Nights)

Dragon Quest The Adventure of Dai: A Ribbiting Adventure (The Frog Princess)

Dr. Slump: A Quacktastic Journey (Drakestail)

Katekyo Hitman Reborn: Windows to The Soul (One Eyes, Two Eyes, Three Eyes)

Kochikame: From Faux to Genuine (Don Quixote)

Yo-Kai Watch: Cat Artist Unknown (The Boy Who Drew Cats)

Kaguya-Sama: Love is War: To Love and To Be Loved (Turandot)

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime: Feathers of Joy (The Blue Bird)

DanMachi: Forgotten Evil Unleashed (Pandora’s Box)

Hellsing Ultimate: Blood Ties (Dracula)

Claymore: The Monster Unleashed (Frankenstein)

Thanks to @sam-rexian and @crystallinedreamsfinelypowdered for helping with some of these!

[dearabby1990]

Chapter 38: Loving you forever

The next morning you & Eddie both decided to take a break & go away for a bit a small getaway at your aunts cabin so that you could both enjoy some peace & to pan over details together without interruption. Pulling into the driveway you smile at Eddie as his eyes scan his surroundings. “Wow princess this is something..” you laugh “I know it’s perfect here I can’t wait to show you all my favorite spots” throwing the car into park & popping the trunk you & Eddie put your bags onto the porch before taking him by the hand & showing him the wood pillar just by the front steps. Several measurement lines with initials along almost the entirety of it seeing little J.B,G.E, M.B & R.B mixed together “sugar I know the J.B’s are you but who are the rest of these people I thought you didn’t have siblings” you shake your head and giggle “Ed’s this is where we’d camp as kids we’d set up tents outback while the adults stayed inside J.B me Jamie Baker R.B & M.B my cousins Rachel & Matthew Baker & G.E honey Gareth Emerson” you turn to him “shit I keep forgetting you two a damn near related this is so cool I always knew he was a short shit ahaha” you slap his arm “you leave my Gare near be he used to save me from boogeymen and wild animals” eddie throws his head back in a whole heartedly filled laugh “wild animals?!” You turn red “my uncle used to tell us there were bears up here it’d scare me every time gareth made sure I wasn’t afraid outback he’s always been the brother I wished I had & I know you know what I mean” you take his hand ushering him inside the living room cozy & littered with photos of you kids throughout the years. Eddie carefully looking at each one until he stops at one in particular a young you, gareth & Rachel in a small pool splashing each other & a woman with long blonde hair and eyes so blue itd make the sky jealous. You walk up behind him to see what he’s looking at “that’s before she started getting sick the first time… she beat it the first time around but the second time she got it.. she just left so fast it was like my brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening until it was all over” Eddie turns to you your eyes red and puffy as tears roll down your cheeks “is this her honey” he rests a hand on your shoulder before pulling you into a hug “yeah that’s my mom… I just… I miss her so much Ed’s so much it hurts” you rack a sob into his chest curling his shirt into your fist “I know the feeling sweetheart but just know how proud they are of us” his kisses the top of your head holding you tight to his chest rocking back and forth before leaning back to tuck a hair behind your ear a peck your cheek “okay sunshine a house tour come on love” he tugs you along. “Well here’s the kitchen it’s huge i know you should’ve seen us kids in here in the mornings you had to beat gareth and Matthew to the table or they’d eat everything hahah” you pull him out in the yard “I wanna show you something” pulling him out of the perimeter of the yard through a bunch of trees & shrubs to a beautiful body of water with a waterfall surrounded by the most gorgeous flowers it looked like something out of a fairytale. “This is amazing” he whispered as you leaned against the side of him wrapped up into each others sides “me & Rachel would come here when my dad would Call being a jerk it was a special hiding spot our secret garden in a way” you take in the smell of Mother Nature before kicking off your shoes & turning to Eddie “come on love let’s go” he kicks his boots off you both take off everything but your underwear & jump into the water taking his hands back kicking towards the falling water “sweetheart are you sure this is safe?” You smile looking into those chocolate eyes & nod continuously pulling him to where you wanted him.

Pulling him through the waterfall until you make it into the small cavern like area just behind. Everything glowing with hues of blue light sparkling off of you both and everything surrounding. Pulling him flush to your chest snaking your arms around his neck before pressing your lips against his soft & slow yet needy. His fingers dancing up from the small of your back until the reach the nape of your neck tilting your head as he slides his tongue across your lips without hesitation your both matching each others movements suddenly you feel Eddie’s fingers brush across the band of your panties before sliding them completely to the side and tapping your ass with a simple word not needing to hear anything else after to get what’s getting ready to happen “Up” you wrap your legs around his waist & before you know it his inside of your heat & crashing his lips into yours teeth hitting off of one another’s before he works his way down your jaw to your sweet spot on your neck thrusting up into you. Cupping his face staring directly into his brown orbs both panting and moaning into each other’s mouths his eyes glossed over but in your heart it looks as though he’s about to cry you try and retreat a bit with worry on your face but he grips you tighter seeing the first tear fall down his cheek before you can get a word out he throws his face into the crook of your neck lips close to your ear & like a mantra “I love you I love you I love you” you match his rhythm now understanding what’s happening you both have never really known what it’s like to be truly loved before being with each other & in this moment you know whole heartedly that this is your true soulmate. Afterwards you pull him to shore taking him back into the house wrapping him in a warm towel & running a bath for the both of you. No words are said as you guide him into the bathroom towards the tub taking his wet clothes off then yours getting him to sit so you could fit between his legs. You place a hand upon his cheek running your thumb along his cheekbone “I love you too eddie with everything that I am I love you. I’d give my life if it meant your eternal happiness” resting your forehead against his you both hold each other surrounded by bubbles & each other. You both relax for awhile then you get out to sit behind him “where ya going beautiful?” You caress his arm “nowhere my love now relax while I take care of you” you took your time washing his hair conditioning it getting out all the tangles & then wash his body for him. Letting him relish in being pampered you quickly wash yourself & head to get clean towels & you & Eddie’s pajamas “i ordered some takeout honey I just wanna spend time with you & stay in bed we can watch a movie or something if you want” he nods kissing your forehead “you pick princess I’m gonna get dressed & set up the bed why don’t you do one of your face masks & I’ll let you know when the food is here” you smile how’d you get so lucky “okay handsome love you” “love you more gorgeous” shooting you a wink ”baby we will be here all day we both love each other infinitely so we’ll leave it at that!” You shout from the bathroom. Enjoying your mini spa you think & can’t wait to pan out wedding details with the man god has graced you with & thank your mom & every shooting star you’ve wished on for getting you to this very point in your life & you couldn’t be more thankful for him & your new family you’ve gotten made up of the most amazing friends. Wonder if Eddie would care that you don’t wanna wear white? We’ll leave that stuff for tomorrow though. Tonight is just the two of you becoming more of 1 then separate beings. Heading back to the bedroom Eddie set up fairy lights and dinner on the bed laying there shirtless you pop in Vision Quest into the VCR hit play & slide next to your loving fiancé enjoying a night of Chinese food movies laughs tickle fights & those endless talks that are about everything & nothing all at once. You can’t wait until you’re finally Mrs Jamie Antoinette Munson.

[halfmoth-halfman]

the willow maid

Pairing: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!Reader Word Count: 5.2k Warnings: implied smut, blood, death, loss, bittersweet ending Prompt: Fairytale!AU & “It was the biggest mistake I ever made.” & the song, the willow maid by erutan Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. A/N: here it is!!! the final fic for @glitterypirateduck’s GazFest 2023!! i hope you guys had as much fun with gazfest as i did!!! and thank you to the amazing glitterypirateduck for putting it all together!!!!! 💜

The tavern is nestled on the far edge of town, a barely held-together building run by an even more decrepit barkeep. Half resting on the edge of the forest, half consumed by the rich greenery, vines and roots split through the walls and upend the cracking cobblestones around it. The windows are covered in a layer of dust, door hanging on by a single bolt, entrance covered in years of muddy boot prints. Every imperfection is only amplified under the light of the early morning sun.

They’re given bread while they wait, circled around the lopsided table pressed up against the clean window, and MacTavish is the only one brave enough to try it. It’s good, if a bit off in a way he can’t fully describe; it’s sweet and light, but there’s a bitterness lurking on his tongue when he swallows.

The ale arrives and, with it, their long-awaited companion. 

He’s quiet, Simon notices. There are only two other people in this tavern, a shifty-eyed child with no shoes and fidgeting hands and a cloaked figure lying with their head on the bar, but Simon hadn’t seen their newfound friend approach. It sets him on edge, more than usual.

(It had been MacTavish who found him, bursting into the inn they'd been staying at with a wide grin and a piece of torn parchment. 

“Got a lead on the flower,” he’d said, handing Price the scrap to let him examine the hastily drawn map. “Met a man who claimed t’ have seen th’ bloom himself. Said to meet him there in three days’ time, jus’ after sunrise.”

Price had been skeptical, but it’d been weeks since their last lead dried up, and their gold was beginning to run low.. Desperate times, and all that.)

MacTavish told them everything he knew about his mysterious contact, but they hadn’t expected him to be so young. 

Barely a year older than MacTavish, the man sits across from them with a polite smile and his hands clasped on the table where everyone can see them. 

Everything about him is dark. His skin, his hair, his eyes. Even his cloak is a deep plum material, unpatterned and plain.

There’s nothing particularly special about him at first glance, but they know something’s not quite right about this man.

He’s too…clean, too put together. There’s no mud on his boots, no signs of hardship or travel, and his clothes are too purposefully plain despite the high quality of the stitching. His movements are too practiced, too elegant, as he takes a slice of bread and fills his cup with manners befitting someone of a far higher station. There’s not a mark or scratch on him, save for the single scratch across is left cheek. 

This man is not what he seems.

“Your friend tells me you’re looking for the Willow’s Wail,” the man speaks, polished, measured, curious.

The three straighten at the mention of the flower. 

It was supposed to be a myth, an old wives tale to tell your children when you put them to sleep. A story about a powerful Fae and a cunning boy who outfoxed her, obtaining a single seed from her garden as a reward. 

But the boy, in his excitement at besting the Fair Fae, didn’t notice he’d dropped the seed just before leaving the fae realm. When the boy finally realized and returned to retrieve it, it was too late. The seed had fallen on the wrong side of the barrier between his world and theirs and he was forced to watch it grow until it bloomed a beautiful, glowing white. 

The boy had one night to admire its beauty before its petals began to fall and the flower wilted. The wind carried the drifting petals, spreading them far and wide to bloom across the mortal realm. The boy was lucky enough to catch one, and it was said that the magic from that single petal granted the boy his heart's desire.

There were countless names for it. 

Moondrop. Angel’s Kiss. Ghostheart. Star Rose.

It changed over the centuries, varying region by region, along with the story, but the details stayed the same.

A glowing, white flower that blooms for one night with enough potent magic in a single petal to keep you safe and sated for the rest of your life.

So many had claimed to have seen it, to have picked an entire bloom and reveled in its sweet scent. How many of the rich and mighty claimed to have one hidden in their vaults? How many urchins kept themselves going with the hope of one day finding a bloom, and pulling themselves from poverty? 

How many rumors had their own merry little group chased, claiming to know where to find a moondrop or angel’s kiss or ghostheart?

Though, Simon’s never heard someone refer to it as the Willow’s Wail before. 

“You know where to find one, I take it?” Price asks. The man nods through a mouthful of bread, taking a sip of the spiced honey ale before he answers.

“Not just where to find it,” he hums, picking at the crust of his bread. “I know how to grow one.”

That’s new.

There have been plenty who claimed to have found a petal. Even some who’ve said they’ve made their own deal with the Fae from the story.

But there’s never been someone who claimed to have a seed before.

The man says it so casually, Simon is almost inclined to believe him. 

“S’pose ye’ll be wantin’ a trade for it?” MacTavish chuckles, already bracing himself for what will either be an absurd amount of coin or a request for a near-impossible task. 

“Of sorts,” the man shrugs.

Simon does not like this, and one glance at Price tells him that the older man feels the same. 

Price folds his arms across his chest, metal bracers clinking against his chest piece. “What’s your price?”

“A story,” the man simply says. 

“You want us to tell you a story?” Even through the shrouded mask, the disbelief is clear in Simon’s voice.

This has to be a trick. The man is clearly a swindler, wasting their time to get a free meal.

“Quite the opposite,” the man laughs. “I’d like to tell you a story. One about how I came across this flower, and, if you manage to make it to the end, I’ll tell you how to grow the flower for yourselves.”

The trio shares a look of wary skepticism, knowing they all share the same thought. Something isn’t right here. It can’t be this simple, this easy. Not when they’ve spent months exhausting every resource, every contact–from officials in the high courts to the lowest of street urchins–available only to come up empty-handed. 

This man is bold, brazen, and a liar. On that, they can all agree.

But there’s something about the way he’s so casually confident in his words. Something simmers just beneath the surface with this man. Something strange. Something…sad. 

He may not be telling the truth about the flower, but they’re sure he has some information that could be valuable to them. 

Price looks to the other two, brows raised in question. Simon and MacTavish each give him a single, reaffirming nod.

“Alright,” Price sighs, leaning back in his crooked chair. “Tell us your story, Mr…”

There’s an awkward pause when Price realizes MacTavish never gave him this man’s name, made only more awkward when MacTavish’s eyes widen as he realizes he doesn’t know the name, either. 

The man takes it in stride, a soft chuckle as he tells them, “Garrick. Kyle Garrick.”

An old name. A rich name. A name written in royal histories about the first kings. 

The name of a family that’s been dead for over a century. 

There’s a hum around the table, a low buzz that sinks deep into their bones and weighs down their limbs. 

Kyle sets his plate aside, staring them down with a toothy grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. Something flashes across his face, a brief flicker of silver barely caught in the sunlight. There are no words spoken, but they all know–

They are trapped here. 

“We’ll start with something familiar, then,” Kyle hums, sharp eyes sliding over to MacTavish. The look of someone who’s obtained a victory. 

“Once upon a time…”

-

…There were no kings or queens to rule over the land. 

No kingdoms, or even cities. 

There was simply the Village and the Forest.

It was a simple exchange, a simple harmony between the two. The Forest would provide food, lumber, livestock, and protection so that the village could thrive, and the villagers would take only what they needed. No more, no less. 

The villagers did not ask where these things came from. They did not demand to know the name of their benevolent caretaker. They said their thanks, made their offerings, created festivals to celebrate their Forest.

They were grateful.

Until the night of the full moon, when a young man, drunk from a week of celebrating the harvest, wandered into the trees. It had been a dare, a test of bravery from the woman whose hand he sought. 

“Name your price, and I swear to you, I’ll provide it!” the man had foolishly declared, loud enough for all of his friends to hear. 

The woman had no intention of marrying him, desperate to be rid of his affections as she preferred another, richer man. She smirked at him, nose high in the air as she told him, “I’ll take your hand and name, but three things you must bring me. First, a ring made from the brightest star in the sky. Second, a dress sewn from the silk of the sea spider queen that resides in the lake–”

Already an impossible task, a joke made of the proposal and the man. 

But the woman was not finished, her grin cruel as she spoke her final request, “And last, a cloak made from the hide of the rarest creature to dwell in the Forest.”

Where there had been laughter, silence now loomed. 

To go into the Forest…

It had never been done, an unspoken rule passed down through generations. They were only meant to take, to thank, to leave. Never to enter. 

But the man would not be deterred, a dangerous mix of love and liquid courage coursing through his veins. 

He turned on his heels, picked up his bow, and marched straight into the Forest.

It didn’t take long for the noises of the village to fade behind him, and the world to grow dark. The trees were too thick for the moonlight to reach, plunging him into unfamiliar darkness. 

But the man would not be discouraged. He pressed forward, walking until his legs shook and the drink wore off, determined to find his rare creature. 

And a rare creature he did find. 

After hours in the black of the Forest, the man heard a voice. A sweet song, drifting through the leaves to reach down into his very soul. He felt light, the pain in his muscles fading as it lured him deeper and deeper and deeper. 

–Into the very heart of the Forest. 

A weeping willow larger than any tree he’d ever seen resting in a ring of red toadstools. So large was it, it broke the canopy of the Forest, its weeping white blooms glowing in the pale moonlight. Soft petals and catkins drifted in the gentle breeze, littering the pale blue grass beneath his feet. 

And there, in the gold of its branches laid her. 

Skin textured like bark, clothed in a dress of draping pale petals, hair so long it wound high into the branches, the Willow Maid sang into the warm, night air. 

Entranced by her voice, her beauty, her presence, the man abandoned his bow. His proposal forgotten, he stepped forward eager to hear more of the maiden’s song. 

Unable to keep his arms from her ethereal form, he unwittingly stepped over the threshold of toadstools. A gust of wind carried the last of her song, as she turned in her branches to stare down at him.  

A piercing gaze, ever-shifting through the colors of the rarest gems. She watched him, staring into him, around him, through him. 

Cautious. Curious.

So overcome by her beauty was he, the man spoke without thought, “Fair Willow Maid, I would seek forgiveness for interrupting your lovely song.”

A dangerous thing, to be indebted to her, but the man did not care.

“Then my forgiveness is granted,” she said, voice echoing in the drifting of leaves and waves of the grass. “But it is not forgiveness which brought you to my willow bed. You seek the hand of a woman. A love to be bought and born of my demise.”

“A hide,” he corrected, flinching under her accusation. “Of the rarest creature to dwell in this Forest.”

“What is rarer than the Forest’s own master?”

The man could not answer, stunned by this revelation. 

Master of the forest, of beasts, and of men. And he had sought to kill her for a love unrequited. 

“You will return to the object of your desires, a failure. My hide is mine own, and I will not allow it to be taken by a love-sickened hunter.”

Foolish and guilty the man may have been, but he was also clever, and a solution quickly came to his mind. 

He could not return with the hide, but that did not mean he had to return empty-handed.

“Come with me, dear maiden,” he called into the branches. “Come from thy willow bed, and meet those who would worship at your feet.”

There was no anger in her, no offense at the thought she would be so vain as to want of worship, but instead peace. 

Calm. 

Serenity. 

A gentle, pitying smile, her voice soft as the moonlight, “I cannot leave this place, daring hunter. Instead, I may present you with a parting gift.” 

The winds shifted, drooping branches caressed his face. 

The man blinked and found himself at the Forest’s edge, staring out at the sun rising over his village with his bow in hand. Around his neck hung a locket of pure gold, a glowing white willow carved into the center.

“I give you this gift,” her voice drifted into his ears, faint and distant. “Proof that you have been blessed by my forest. You may return if you’d like, but I warn you. Don’t ask me to follow where you lead.”

-

Kyle pauses to take a drink, his attention elsewhere long enough for their limbs to loosen slightly. 

“Tha’s quite the tale ye have,” MacTavish says once he regains control of his mouth. 

“So, the flowers are Fae magic,” Price hums. “Guess the stories were right about that.”

“More than you’d think,” Kyle sighs, a bitter chuckle as he sets down his cup. 

“Forests are all cut down and contained now,” Simon says, cold, calculating eyes kept on Kyle. 

“Aye, and th’ Fae Folk are all but gone,” MacTavish adds. There’s a grimace on Kyle’s face, a flinch that he covers by pretending to rub at his eyes. 

“The flowers must be left over from the willows, then?” Price deduces, his head tilted towards their storyteller. Kyle shrugs, with a noncommittal nod that sets off alarms in Simon’s head. 

“Where did you hear this story?” the masked mask asks. “We’ve heard all of the tales, the bedtime stories, the songs. Yet, I don’t think we’ve ever heard of a Willow Maid.”

“Very few have,” Kyle says simply. “For good reason.”

“And we’re supposed to believe you?” Simon scoffs. “A man we hardly know, telling a story no one else has heard of, about a flower that might not even exist.” He looks to Price, the request clear in his eyes.

This is a waste of time. We should leave.

“The deal wasn’t for you to believe me.” Kyle’s voice is sharp, a dangerous edge laced across the tight smile on his face. “The deal was for you to listen.”

The word hisses from his mouth, and Simon feels his muscles tighten painfully. MacTavish groans next to him, and Simon knows he and Price are feeling the same. A weight holds them down, keeps them in their chairs, unable to move or look at anything other than Kyle. 

Kyle simply smiles.

“If I may continue?”

-

…The village had hailed him a hero.

To have gone into the Forest, and emerged with its blessing? There was no higher achievement, no feat more accomplished. 

They showered him in gifts, in favors, in endless wealth. 

The woman whose hand he sought all but threw herself into his arms, so proud to accept his proposal now. 

Yet, he denied it all. He did not want gold nor gems nor silks. He did not care if he had the biggest house, the fattest livestock, the fullest larder. 

His heart’s true desire rested in the heart of the Forest, nestled safely in her tree. 

He visited the Willow Maid often, disappearing into the Forest trees for weeks at a time. Others tried to follow him, tried to gain the Forest’s favor just as he had. All but him were spurned, led into the depth of the trees only to be twisted and turned and led back to where they had started. 

The woman he once sought grew so green with jealousy, she marched into the Forest promising to find what had stolen his affections with a sharp knife and bundle of matchsticks. She never returned, and the Forest refused to provide until the man visited again to apologize on the village’s behalf.

They stopped following him after that.

The man was not bothered, content to be left alone with his Willow Maid. He enjoyed his time, resting in the shade of her tree, listening to her sing or telling her tales from his childhood. He spoke with her, laughed with her, learned about her and her Forest and her creatures. 

Years passed, and his visits grew. He had befriended her, treasured her, loved her. 

And she loved him in return.

The village was alight with rumor and speculation when the man walked into the Forest, dressed in his finest with a bundle of fresh sunflowers in hand. 

Unwavering faith. Admiration. Sincerity. 

To love until the end. 

A proposal with the highest affections.

He stood beneath her willow and wrapped the flowers in the moonlit branches. They carried the fresh blooms to his love, his declaration loud for all of the Forest to hear–

“You’ve captured my heart, my sweet Willow Maid. With your Forest’s blessing, I would be honored to be your groom.”

She smelled the sunflowers, cradling them in her arms like the most precious of gifts. She released them to the branches, watching them drift high into the willow, out of her sight and out of his. 

The wind whispered across his cheek, blossoms shrouding the maiden before she appeared before him at the base of the tree. He took her into his arms, holding her close against him. Everything about her was perfect, the velvet soft petals of her gown, the radiating warmth of her skin, the smell of ambrosia in her hair. 

There would be no other for him, in this life and every life.  

His heart was completely hers, just as hers was his. 

“My dear, darling hunter,” she spoke, her hands a soft caress on his cheeks. “I can wed you never. Not near, nor far, nor soon.”

A heart-shattering rejection that would have ruined him for love eternally had she not looked so mournful. So regretful.

“Why?” he begged. “What is it that keeps you from me?”

A hand on his heart, the other on her tree he feels the pulse–the life–thrum through her fingertips. “I told you, I cannot leave this place.” 

He grasped her hand in his, his voice a sweet murmur as he gave her his solution. “Then don’t.”

A long-awaited kiss, and an even longer-awaited night possessed by the feel, the touch, the love of one another. A promise of dedication, of ever-lasting love. Whispers sewn into the infinite roots of her willow.

They rested against her tree after, pressed against one another as she traced along his chest, a glowing willow forever marked over his heart. 

“The Forest is not your home, my lovely hunter, and I would not be so cruel as to bind you to it. You may come and go as you please. I will always be here, awaiting your visits, but you cannot ask me to follow where you lead.”

A plea unheard, falling deaf on sleeping ears. 

-

The barkeep comes to refill the ale, and the pressure releases as Kyle thanks him with a smile. 

“This is startin’ to sound…personal,” MacTavish jokes, and Price is thankful for the man’s sharp eyes and unrestrained tongue. 

Kyle murmurs something they don’t catch, lips quirking up at the corners. 

“Perhaps it is,” he shrugs. There’s something playful in his tone. Mischievous. As if he's proud of their keen attentions. 

“Laying with the Fae’s an awfully bold thing to do, but promising yourself to one?” Price lets out a low whistle. 

“Foolish, more like,” MacTavish chuckles. 

It wasn’t unheard of. There were stories of humans being whisked away in the night to live a life of comfort and luxury among their Fae lovers. They were mostly fairytales, told to satisfy young children and hopeless romantics, as most of those who’d grown already knew of the dangers of the Fae. 

They knew the true nature of the Fae, and that a mortal’s comfort often went hand in hand with servitude. Wealth and luxury were rewards for proper entertainment and could be stripped away at a moment’s notice. The Fae were as cruel as they were kind, and their promises were not to be taken lightly. 

“Maybe a little of both,” Kyle hums. “Love makes fools of even the best of us.”

“I’ll drink t’ tha’!” MacTavish laughs, and the pressure in his limbs loosens enough to allow him to toast his cup against Kyle’s. 

“So,” Simon speaks up, flexing his hands as a test of mobility. When he’s given range, he leans back his chair, one hand resting around his cup. “What happened next?”

There’s something mournful in Kyle’s smile. A pained regret they very easily recognize. 

They’ve all known that sting of loss.

“What happened next…”

-

…It was the tree.

The willow–her willow–kept her bound to the Forest, away from her love. She had tried everything in her power to make it see reason, to let her wander from its ring of toadstools.

She made offerings, formed new creatures to take her stead, begged at its roots. 

It denied her every time. 

The man tried to stay with her, but I–he could not thrive in the moonlight alone. He could not live off of Forest’s magic as she could. He had to return to the village.

They were resigned to spend their years as often apart as with each other. Not a moment together was wasted. Their joinings were beautiful–soft and tender and full of love–and their partings were miserable. They mourned in their time away, grief-stricken and sick with yearning for their other half. 

Five years of this unending misery, and the man had had enough. 

He stormed through the forest, a fury of determination. The trees parted for him, in fear of the sharpness of his eyes and of the axe in his hands. 

He was going to take his faerie—his wife—and free her from her prison. They were going to be happy together, raise their children together, live their lives together as they were meant to.

He did not waste time when he reached the clearing, did not give her warning before his first swing. 

The roots sprung forth, ripping through the earth to lash at the hunter, striking across his face to draw blood from his cheek. 

Still, he did not stop.

Neither did the tree.

The Willow Maid dove from its branches, shielding her hunter’s body with her own, taking the strike in his place. 

The willow halted its assault, axe planted firmly in its trunk. 

She stumbled to her feet, the split across her back dripping into the pale grass, staining its blades a shimmering gold. She stepped a sure foot forward, crushing the toadstools beneath her bare feet, and took the axe in hand. 

The echoes of her wailing melted into the cracking of the wood. 

The cry of her willow as it fell would haunt the forest for a millennium. 

She collapsed into sobs, but it was not for her willow that  she cried. She cradled the bloodied body of her poor, dear hunter close to her chest. Hair falling around them, its long tendrils soaked by the sweet smelling blood-sap oozing from her tree. 

She wept. 

For him, for her, for their freedom and love. 

She wept. 

Her willow personified. 

She waited until he was strong enough to stand, to face her, to hold her. A kiss over the cold corpse of her once caretaker. 

He led her back through the forest, hand clasped tightly around hers, ready to bring her home. His home, her home, their home. 

When they came to the forest edge, she gasped at the sight of the village. The burning orange sunset streaked across the fields, the speckle of lights from their windows against the darkening land, the sound of cheer and laughter and freedom. 

Her smile was bright enough to rival the stars, eager to start her new life with her love eternal.

Two steps past the forest edge.

That was as far as she got.

Two steps beyond the threshold and her knees buckled beneath her. Her hunter held onto her, lowering her into the warm grass. Her body seized in his arms, barkskin peeling and flaking into thin wood chips. Cheeks sinking in, hair thinning into long blades of grass, petal clothes wilting against her body. 

She pawed at his face, eyes wild with fear and confusion. Her whimpers and wordless pleas broke his heart, begging every god he could think of to fix his sweet Willow Maid. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She was supposed to be safe. They were supposed to be happy. Together. 

He felt her fade, her body melting in his arms, and a shrieking lament tore from his throat as he lost his one and only love, left with only her dim golden blood sliding through his fingers. 

The sun set, the moon taking its place high in the sky. 

The wind whispered across his skin, a fresh sting against the cut on his cheek, carrying with it the voice of her fallen willow. 

“You’ve stolen from me that which is most precious. Don’t you know that pain you sow is pain you reap?”

The Forest murmurs, trees rustled in the growing moonlight. Shimmering silver growing and growing from the dense woods, until it was almost blinding. 

“You have taken but you have not given in return, and so I make this trade instead. I will take from you what you took from me.”

The golden blood began to glow on his hands, glow on the ground, glow in the moonlight, light rising and rising and rising. It skimmed petal-soft across his hands, slinking into the grass where the dirt drank and digested it. 

There was shouting from the village as the lights crescendoed into one final, blinding beam then faded entirely. Everything was left in muted, dull tones as if the color was stripped from the world, the Forest silent and still for the first time since its conception. 

He knew that the Forest would provide for them no longer. 

All that remained was a beautiful, glowing flower. A moon-white blossom, a cruel reminder of what he had done.

The earth rumbled beneath his feet, one last biting sentence from the willow. 

“You can not take from the Forest what was never meant to leave.”

-

Kyle finishes his tale with a sigh of longing. 

“It was the biggest mistake I ever made,” he says, eyes cast down at the table. 

“A cruel lesson,” Price laments, eyes full of sympathy for the young man.

“And one repaid in blood,” Kyle sighs grimly. He takes a deep swig, setting his cup aside as the pressure lifts entirely from the group across from him. 

“The flower wilted by morning, taken from me forever, and I…did not respond kindly. I took up arms against the Forest’s creatures, hunted them to near extinction, and cut down every tree in sight. The magic was gone, but my people rejoiced. They named me Garrick, Spear King.”

The table goes still. 

They’ve heard of the Great Spear King. There’s not a soul alive who hasn’t. The story of how he founded the kingdoms, brought the world to rule under one benevolent ruler, was taught to every child, passed on through every generation. 

There were holidays named for him. Parades in his honor. 

Respects paid to his burial chambers every year. 

Kyle watches the realization wash over them, the skepticism, the caution. He stands from the table, a small gesture out the window. 

“The ruins of my village lie a tenday’s walk in that direction. Just beyond the flooded river, in a deep valley. There are remnants, sometimes, when the moon is brightest. You may not get everything you wished for, but there is power in that soil.”

“And that’s what the others found? Is it truly soil that they keep hidden in their vaults? Is it dirt that they credit their wealth and power to?” Simon scoffs.

“If it is, it’s not from the Fae,” Kyle shrugs. “There’s nothing left of their magic in this world. I made sure of it.”

“Then, why tell us?” MacTavish questions. The once-king shrugs again, adjusting the fastening of his cloak. 

“Curiosity? Boredom? Or perhaps, I just wanted someone to know the truth, and you lot seemed trustworthy enough.”

It should be a compliment, the highest honor given from the man who founded their nation, but it feels…sad. 

“I wish you luck, travelers. It is a rare day indeed that I find myself so open to sharing secrets.” 

Kyle doesn’t wait for them to say their goodbyes, or say anything really. He gives them a curt nod, and turns to head up the stairs to the tavern’s second floor. 

-

They wait until nightfall to leave, making their way down the path under the shroud of darkness.

Kyle watches from the window of his room, sitting tucked in the windowsill. His cloak abandoned on the uneven bed, he smooths his thumb over the well-worn metal of the locket around his neck. The tree’s glow is dim, barely noticeable unless he cups his hands around it, but it’s there.

He waits until the trio fades from his vision, shifting against the rotting wood to sit up straight. The moonlight casts its shine down through the foggy panes, but it’s enough light to satisfy him. 

Pressing his fingers into the sides of locket, he holds it under the light as it opens with a soft click. 

Petals burst from the seams, throwing the locket open to release a beautiful, bountiful white bloom. The flower soaks up the moonlight, waves of golden light pulsing over its velvet petals.

For one moment, he is that young man again, no longer carrying the burden of loss in his eyes, or the torment of a man who has been granted the curse of eternal life. 

He presses a tender kiss to the flower. “I’ve missed you, my love.”

The flower glows just a bit brighter.

[spectralscathath]

May you explain the thought process behind all of Scorpion Faunus RWBY AU designs if you please?

Absolutely, buckle in. I'm a bit of a chatterbox, so I hope you don't mind long responses.

Let's start with Miss Scorpion Faunus herself. Now, Ruby has two versions of her design, one with her hood and one without, so I'm gonna pop them both beside each other just to contrast them.

Starting with Ruby's Vale/Beacon outfit, originally I hadn't changed it all that much from her original look, but then looking at it beside her other designs it looked a bit dull, so I revamped her to have a white top under the corset-vest and what my friend dubbed 'Miku Sleeves'. I'm honestly a lot happier with how it turned out.

Breaking it down, my main focus was to try and bring in some extra red into Ruby's look. I've always felt that without her cloak, her first look was really plain, with all the red on her dress being dark and her tights being black meaning she didn't have much of her colour. I made her tights redder and changed her corset design to be more similar to her later look, with a long stripe of central red, and some brighter accents all around.

Her white sleeves and the collar decoration are tied off with darker red, and I mostly kept them because they looked both cute and kinda fairytale-ish, but the main thing I wanted to do with this design was bring in the star theme that I want Ruby to have. The scorpio constellation decorated the sides of her corset, the two buttons on her white vest are star shapes, and her cloak has a small clasp that has another star on it. I axed the crosses she had in her show look, no hate to Qrow but I just never liked them on Ruby, and overall I think she looks cute.

I really like her Mistral look here. First major change is that her top is now a light grey instead of white. This will start a trend. Second major change is obvious, while in Vale Ruby is devoted to hiding her tail under her skirt, in Mistral she starts to wear it out a little more. Thirdly, I liked the idea from her show concept of battle damage, with the ragged cloak and the nicks on her red tights.

The main idea with Ruby's Mistral outfit here is that it carries elements of the people who were lost or impacted in the Fall of Beacon. The black neckpiece is taken from a cute piece of concept art and also references Penny, similar to the slits on her skirt. The trim at the top of her boots slightly references Nora's shoe style, and the puffier sleeves with a black cuff is a clear reference to Yang's own Beacon outfit. She also has changed her emblem to sit on her cloak, which is how Summer wears it in Antares as well.

Her hair's a bit messier, a little longer, and finally we can properly see that she has Tyrian's nose, which is one of my fav dumb details because it helps me slightly avoid same face syndrome (my enemy). There's a few extra belts, because belts on kickass goth boots Do Not Count as unnecessary, they're part of the style, and her gloves are way thicker and a bit more practical. I was able to bring in a darker red into this outfit, which ends up helping break up the black and red in a nice way without being too out of her colour scheme.

And yes: she has two star clasps on her neckpiece and the scorpio constellation on her skirt. Little star girl, falling fast.

The Atlas outfit is where we start getting the signs of story progression beyond just Ruby's outfit. Her tail is thicker due to a moult she undergoes in Mistral, her face is scarred from SpoilerSpoilerSpoiler, and her hair is beginning to turn silver-white due to overusing her silver eyes. It also has a little braid in it (can't be a scorpion faunus without braids), and has gotten to its most fluffi and messy it'll be here.

The big goals with this outfit were two-fold: make it look warm, and reference Tyrian (though in-universe it's subconscious on Ruby's part). The skirt has been officially switched out for a set of overalls, the belts on her waist are an exact replica of Tyrian's in Ruby's palette (she starts wrapping her tail around her waist as a fake belt, similar to him), and I snagged the undershirt and cuffs from her Mistral outfit and made it a darker grey again from her Mistral outfit. Her cloak has also become even more tattered, I wasn't a fan of her getting a new cloak in Atlas.

The other main things in this outfit that are different is the addition of the metal caps on her boots, which helps keep the silver travelling through Ruby's outfit as she becomes more in-tune with her SEW heritage. The scorpio constellation is again on her cuffs, she has some dark red gloves to stay warm, and while she has three stars on her overalls, between the belts, the star pattern is mainly on her shawl.

Speaking of the shawl, it's fur lined to bring in a little bit of white, and once again, a reference to Tyrian's overcoat. It is also where her emblem is now located, on the back, as at this point Ruby's having some struggles with the concept of 'identity', poor thing.

I'm a little biased but I still think her Vacuo look is my personal favourite out of these four. The hood is gone entirely, replaced by what I happen to think is an Adorable Poncho, and there is also the matter of the eyepatch. Due to SpoilerSpoilerSpoiler. But it has her emblem on it, very very faintly.

The rest of the Vacuo outfit is almost a reference to her Vale outfit more than anything else. We've nixed the darker red for a simpler colour palette, and her hair is messily cut short again, and a lot more silver. She still has a slight reference to Tyrian in the collar style of her undershirt, which is the darkest grey that she gets. She has cute lil lace edges on the sleeves tho.

The tights have also officially switched from red to grey, and while we haven't returned to the skirt, instead going for shorts-overalls, she does have a little overskirt patterned with scars that keeps her tail warm during the cold desert nights. The elbow cover adds a little funky assymmetry, very important in a rwby design, and the keen-eyed will notice the big departure in this from the other designs, the lack of bullets on her belt. It'll all make sense in context.

Finally, we've moved the scorpio constellation to her boots, nixed the goth belt on said boots, and kept the metal toecap from her Atlas outfit. Honestly there's not as much to say about this outfit, it's a bit simpler than the others, and there's less red in order to balance out Poncho Era, but I just think it's real cute, she's real precious.

Onto Weiss!!

Weiss was, no joke, a goddamn headache and a half. I find it really hard to understand her exact 'style' of fashion. But here she is and I'm happy with her anyway. The first main things that one might notice is that she has a much larger scar then the thin one from the show. That would be because A. Scars are Cool, and B. her scar is from blunt force trauma over her orbital socket, and the cut is from the skin splitting right over the bone. Which is supposedly what happened in the show but whatever. Bigger Cooler Scar.

The other main things are thricefold: she has the beauty mark from her original concept, she has freckles all over if you look close, a really pointy nose to look down on people with, and she has the Snow White 'lips red as blood'. If anyone would wear lipstick into battle its Weiss.

Her Vale outfit honestly isn't that different from her show look because it was overall solid if very bright. Mostly I just added extra details to make her look richer, such as all the little metal diamonds on her dress and sleeves, and decorating her boots and dress, and adjusted the colouring a bit so it wasn't all Bright White (see also: the black heels on her boots and the black sash, just to break up the colours). I did change up some of her accessories, like making her apple necklace have a red jewel, adding a cute choker, black diamond earrings, and red nail polish.

The other main thing was her hair. I decided to borrow the idea from the amazing AZRE au that Weiss started with her ponytail being straight instead of assymetrical, to show how she's still under Jacques's control, and I'll be entirely honest I kinda stole her headpiece from Amity's grown-up look in Owl House because it looked real cute and princessy. Her emblem is also located on the back of her bolero, and you don't see it in any of these designs, but its canon now that the underside of her boots, like the sole part, is red.

I based her Mistral Look mostly off her Snowpea look, except instead of making it a whole dress I decided to make it a jacket she wore over a dress. The dress is probably more like her Mistral outfit, you can see a bit of it peeking out, and I just adore the idea of Weiss wearing sweetheart bodices when she is flat as a board (I say this lovingly, and with respect). It's not visible here, but her dress is actually trimmed with sapphires that match her earrings, and the same with the gloves that you also can't see much of here but are very cute opera gloves. I try to keep Layers in mind when it comes to outfit design, usually.

The other big thing from Snowpea is that I gave her the thigh high boots, just to really look a bit different from the other outfits she has. She has a red scarf because I liked the idea in the show but not the execution, and I moved the idea of the white trim pattern of the scarf onto the black sash, just to help with breaking up the designs. Her jacket is designed to look vaguely business and vaguely military, since her Mistral arc has her very torn between her identities as Jacques's Heiress and being a Huntress like Winter.

I didn't mention it prior, but one thing I wanted to do for all the designs for the girls was to have some repeating elements throughout to tie all the designs together. Ruby has her stars, the belt, and the general boot design, Weiss has her jewellery, the triple diamond pattern seen on her skirt here, and transparent fabric, which is something that becomes more prominent across her designs as she grows into her own.

Also, we finally have the assymetrical ponytail, and the cute hairpiece from the show. She also has a slight change in her hairstyle from the show with the lil sidebangs, because if her hair was down I wanted it to reference the 'hime cut' a bit. And her emblems are on her shoulders here, just to add a lil extra spice to the jacket.

I truly do love Pixie Cut Weiss, I think it's still super feminine and cute and also she should have been the one to cut her hair, not Blake. I'll die on this hill. Anyway, Atlas look. I wanted to go full Magic Knight here, adding in pieces of armour (the shoulderpiece has her emblem), the transparent overskirt, the whole shebang.

Some of the major changes here is that Weiss's tights are darker, as in thicker material, and she has a similar thicker undershirt below her dress and jacket. Again, same with Ruby, I wanted to make a look that actually appeared warm, and I didn't want to go the route of the show where they made her look cluttered and also freezing and also just Not Good. I decided to keep the red gem accents, but instead of having them on a hairpiece they're meant to be on her bodice (again, thinking in layers), and her boots.

The other thing I really wanted with this was to have her both reference Winter, with the white jacket tucked into the black gloves, and be the most 'militaristic' of her outfits, what with the actual belt, and the epaulette. In Atlas, Weiss is almost a go-between with her team and the Atlas Military, after all her training with FANCI, the Ace Ops, and Winter, and has a lot of trust in them.

The scar on her neck is gonna make sense in the story. If anyone can figure out how it references Snow White, I'll give you an internet cookie.

We have reached Vacuo, and Weiss's Military Look is gone and her Rich Princess Look is toned down in favoour of what my friend dubbed 'punk ballerina'. Which is very fitting because this is the part of the story where Weiss takes the final step in a long journey towards anti-capitalism. In order to take out some of the princessy vibes, Weiss no longer has high boots, she instead has ankle boots that vaguely look like laceless converse, she has short fingerless gloves instead of something more operatic, and we've gotten rid of the jackets for a see-through top over a shoulderless look.

I think her dress here is pretty cute. I decided to do a sort of corset style that reminds me of the old-school disney princesses, and she still ahs a few metal diamonds scattered around, it's her thing. The observant may notice that all Weiss's buttons are diamond-shaped throughout her outfits, which was harder to detail then I first thought!

The skirt is meant to be more of a sundress style rather then something full of petticoats, and the red mesh under the dress was my way of trying to keep the pattern of 'red focused around Weiss's neck'. It also helps a bit with the more punkish look, which is aided by the pixie cut, which has grown out slightly. The white stockings are also just there as something of a sun/sand protection, and also because I wanted to really bring the colour back hard for Vacuo.

To Blake!

Observant people might notice that Blake has melanin here. I would be disqualified from Certain Redesign Contests for such a deviation from canon. What a shame.

But anyway, most of the Beacon looks really were solid outfits, as seen by how they're the ones that get press in everything rwby does outside of rwby 90% of the time. I honestly didn't have to change much. Mainly just doing a few small tweaks here and there. I changed her shorts to lose the excess zippers and added one of those like useless button straps that don't actually do anything but look cute, and here we see that I made all of Blake's buttons look like lil moons. Just for flair.

I gave her a purple belt and changed the tone of the purple in general, since I prefer Blake with bluer purples/indigos to Yang's more lilac purple when it shows up. She has the purple soles, but not heels, one thing I wanted to do with all these designs was make sure that the shoes could all look similar but different, give them all something specific to them.

The other big thing I did was I took her glove away and replaced it with two shorter gloves, one of which has her emblem rather than it being on her leggings, and the other of which has fishnets on it, because Blake Shops At Hot Topic and Listens to Evanescence you cannot tell me otherwise. The little white straps on her top were just, again, a bit of visual flair, and a way to keep some white travelling through her design without making her upper arms empty with nothing to look at.

Also you can't see it at this angle but she has a crescent moon nose piercing throughout all of her looks, even in Beacon, and she has black nail polish. I like to think she, Weiss, and Yang all did manicure sessions together in Beacon.

Her Mistral look is already a departure from canon, though I kept the thigh high boots and the idea for the cutouts on her top, even if I made her crop top white. You can't see it here that well because Blake is also wearing a sleeveless croptop jacket over a sleeveless croptop. It's fashion.

I gave her the glove from her show Beacon design here instead, for the assymmetry, and she has a bandanna tied around her right bicep with a moon pattern to kind of mirror the metal band on the glove. The big thing I wanted was to put her in a low ponytail, because that meant I could keep her bow motif while still showing off her ears. When she wants to cover them she has a beanie, because beanies are cute.

The zip for her zipper is, again, a crsecent moon, and she has a moon phases pattern along the tops of her boots. I gave her kneepads because Mistral Blake is ready to scrap and it matched with the metal band on the glove, and popped her emblem on her hoodie in a similar way to her vol2 outfit. Also similar to her vol2 outfit, I added those adidas tracksuit lines but in purple on her trousers. I liked this one a lot. It had the stuff I liked from the show Mistral one but without completely drowning her in not her colours.

This one gave me trouble, I went through so many sketches before I decided on this, but I think I'm happy with it overall. As a lil sneaky on this I made her jacket clasps the Bi Double Moon, which can also be seen on the metal tops of her boots. I had a sort of idea for stripes for her pattern here, just to look cohesive and also distinctive. She has the white to black gradient on her trousers, which are meant to be thicker and warmer. I wanted to always make sure she had white on her upper legs, just for the follow-through.

The bow for her ponytail is also white here in Atlas, and it's not on this look but she has a new beanie with white trim and one of those fluffy pom-pom thingies. The belt has her moon phases design that I introduced in the Mistral design, and her jacket was just me playing around until I had something I liked that kept her colour and had just the slightest hint of a suit jacket or waistcoat or something, in the shape and the white cuffs, mostly.

Her emblem is on a neckerchief that she can pull up over her nose to stay warm, and she's gotten two silver piercings in her right ear as a homage to her mom's gold piercings. Also, the notch in her left ear? She gets it from a fight, but she also comes out winning, and if anyone can guess why 'A V-shaped Notch' and where I got the reference from, another internet cookie and also my apologies, possibly.

I love Blake's Vacuo design, I shouldn't be biased but I am and I love it. I wanted her to have pirate boots, where I moved her bows to because she's dropped the ponytail, but my biggest wish for this look was 'that goth bitch at a rock concert who's about to scrap'. Everyone is punk in Vacuo, apparently.

She's wearing torn fishnets in the desert because she's hardcore like that, I gave her assymetrical gloves, one of which has like, a studded band purely for the 'about to dropkick someone in the moshpit' look, and a single-shoulder croptop that has her moon phases pattern. The more I look at her top the more I realise I may have been thinking of Amethyst from Steven Universe but Amethyst's designs all rocked so that's not a bad thing.

She still has the double bi moon on her pirate boots, right at the end of the bits that flop over (I don't know terminology), and finally she has her emblem on her legs, on her high-waisted shorts that are based off a pair I had as a teenager but in black.

And the jacket. Yes. Okay, I know: holographic fabric in the desert? Well the desert can be cold at night so she'll be warm then and also: she can blind her enemies with it. I just really like the shape and style of it, and I think it really distincts from her other looks. It was also really fun to draw, and I'm allowed to keep one darling alive as a present to myself.

Onto the fourth and final teammate, Yang!

Well first of all, her new Vale look is pretty much just 60% of vol2 outfit with a few minor tweaks. i turned the black miniskirt under the cream miniskirt into a pair of short-shorts because she deserves it, I took her emblem off the sparkly purple sash so she could keep it on her stockings.

The top is a mix of her original outfit in her new colour scheme of black, white, cream, and yellow, but I changed up her sleeves to be white for the poofy-fairytale-goldilocks appearance. I also turned all her buttons into rectangular clasps, and made the croptop under her jacket purple, to really bring the colour through the outfit. She and Blake are really close in Beacon, so having more purple in Yang's outfit, the bows on her boots, and the matching black scarfs was a fun way to show that for her.

One may also not that Yang's now got a bit of an updo going on. I wanted to incorporate just a few more Chinese influences into her design, though I will admit it is heavily stylised, and not very obvious in her Vale look. I also gave her a tan, just to really help bring out the colour palette a bit. And she has lilac nail polish because goddamnit she's allowed to be girly AND tough I hate the erasure of Yang's femininity just because this fndm can't wrap their lil heads around a wlw relationship that's not butch/femme when Yang isn't even butch in the show.

Anger aside. Part of what I wanted with this look was to make it seem, well, a little impractical. More fashion and form over function. Her boots have four belts each that need to be individually done up, her sash reaches her knees, that sort of thing. She can still fight in it, obviously, but she's in the fight for the thrill of things, because she's cool and knows it, and isn't really choosing to think deeper.

Her Mistral Look is meant to be very, very different from her Beacon look. She's axed the miniskirt and belt boots completely, she's wiped almost all traces of purple from her design, and she's got no bows. Yang in Mistral is almost running from everything in Vale, and especially anything that reminds her of Blake. She's trying to be a lot more practical here, her boots zip on, her qipao-influenced dress is short, cut high over the thighs, and out of the way of any kicks she might do, the sash wraps around the top of her boot and that's all, her hair's up in a ponytail.

The short jacket is pretty much the half of her vol2 look that didn't make it into her Vale look, and her yellow crop top under the qipao has her emblem, deliberately obscured and covered up a bit for symbolism. She has a black liner for her prosthetic here, and takes it on and off when she wants to. She didn't just put it on and never remove it, like in the show, here it's a bit more of an adjustment for her. Not as much to say about this outfit, it's simple but effective.

Yang's in a much better headspace from about Atlas onwards. She's more willing to combine fashion and function, she's finally started incorporating cute patterns into her style, and she has the cute hair bun covers that are purple and sparkly and adorable! She really starts coming into her own in Atlas, and I wanted to show that by having her settle into her motifs of fire and bears, as shown by the fire design on her jacket and the bear patterns. She has a trio of ursa skulls on a patch on her super fluffy jacket, and a set of bear pawprints on the edge of her qipao.

The boots have belts, though they're mostly decorative and the boots are actually zip on, and her emblem is still a bit hidden on her thigh. She's incorporating a lot more gold metal onto her shoes, following through from her Mistral look, and has a little golden band she can use to tie off the sleeve of her jacket when she's not wearing her prosthetic. Under the jacket, I like to think the sleeves are short before it cuts off just above the end of her right arm, and transitions into a full black glove on her left arm. She's switched the liner out for a bright yellow one, and she's just happier here. Someone has to be the sunshine in this team.

Similar to Blake, and Ruby, and possibly Weiss once I can look at her designs again, Yang's Vacuo outfit is my favourite of the four. She's got her hair up in cute buns for the bear ear ref, she's got cute ribbons that aren't bows because she and Blake have sorted stuff after Beacon but they're not codependent, and she's still got the purple sparkly fabric as her socks.

The main thing for Vacuo was to try and bring back some of the biker babe aesthetic, which I mostly did with the denim shorts that have that specific white fray thingy. She's got gold caps on the knuckles of her glove too, just for some extra fun. The emblem on her boots matches the metal inset of a fire pattern, and I brought back the bear idea with a paw on her sleeve. Maybe she has the ursa skulls patch on the other arm, I'm not sure yet, I'll need to decide if I want symmetry or not.

I simplified her arm from her show look, by trimming the amount of yellow into a few clear plates to cover the main workings. I never was sure how she managed to spray it perfectly enough on the finger grooves to not get paint everywhere.

Her necklace has turned into a clasp at her throat now, jsut to prevent it swinging around in combat, and the qipao is now at its longest, but still cut high over the sides so it's not impeding her movement. The pattern at the bottom is a fire pattern I found that also looked vaguely watery, which I think made it perfect, since she's kind of mixing the two into her mindset at this point, she's doing the kung fu panda thing, she's seeking inner peace. And she's looking great while she does it, she has a better colour scheme here.

And that's all of them!! All I have to say. I think. Thank you so much for this question, Nonnie, it was fun. I hope the quality of the images is at least half-decent, my tumblr fucks them all so I'll never be sure

[synnthamonsugar]

Synnth's Fic Rec Friday . . . #2!

Inspired by the fic rec listed started by @a-driftamongopenstars and the Friday fic rec series by @flowers-of-io. I thought I would throw my hat into the ring with my own weekly(ish) series. (Tag: Synnth Recs)

A Dance for the Ages

By @endivinity

Read on AO3

Fandom: Destiny | Rating: Teen | Characters: Eris Morn, Savathun, Oryx | Word count: 4,188 | Warnings: None

Eris had been warned, as a little girl, not to go down to the marsh alone after dark. There were lights that bobbed enticingly on the horizon, beckoning her with their charming glow that she knew well to ignore and turn away from; grasping claws that look like lakeweed until an unknowing traveler stepped within their drifting clutches

I have a complicated relationship with fantasy/fae/magic AUs. I think it's easy to simply drop existing characters into a stock magical setting and call it a day. But at their best, these sorts of AUs understand the original settings and characters of a work and map them seamlessly onto a unique new world.

This is fae AU at its best, a fic that respects both its source material and offers a compelling recontextualization of its characters & events.

She is returning, the night of a full-moon. Silver horseshoes affix to her boots, making her steps weighty but for all the howling and hungry eyes shining red in between the trees, she is not bothered. Baskets of herbs sway from the heavy bindle over her shoulder. “Traveler,” an unfamiliar voice croons, so close it could almost be at her ear. “Thou'rt far from home, in this place.” It's melodic and beautiful, and immediately Eris's hand goes to the salt-kissed blade at her hip. She turns slowly, letting a silvered shoe dig into the dry dirt of the path, grounding her with intent: she will not be moved. Her eyes meet those of a woman.

One of the first things I noticed about A Dance For The Ages is the way its style pays homage to classic fairytale narration. There's a rhythm to the narration that's immensely compelling — I could not put it down once I started reading.

“Such busy folk,” a familiar oil-slick voice drips into her ears, and she startles, almost dropping her mug. A goat stands beside her, black hair forming a mantle, black raking horns, black eyes. It chews a stalk of wheat thoughtfully. “You are no mere siren,” Eris says. “Indeed I am not.” “What is it you ask of me this time?” It is a bold question, yet nonetheless accurate. A wight such as this would never appear benignly without purpose. The goat chews and chews the wheat until it is all gone, grain-husks crunched beneath teeth that carry glimpses of being razor sharp. “I bear a craving for fruits of the summer. If thou'rt diligent at pastry-craft, a pie upon the sill,” she requests, swapping to the old-speak easy as breathing. “I offer a trinket, in return.”

The dialog between Savathûn and Eris is such a delight to read, and I love the way the story leans in to Savathûn's status as trickster; always shifting shapes, always offering deals and challenges and cryptic wisdom.

The village did not baulk at her eyes, nor did they stop in their care. It is a comfort, to still be so loved, even after her desperate choices. She saved them, they tell her, as she helps deliver a stuck lamb; the season's first, and a sign of the Fell King's touch upon the land and his theft of their blessing of the coming year. It will take work, but they will work through it. She saved them, they say, and so she deserves to choose to save herself in turn. It is hard. But she is not alone.

I adore the characterization of Eris as respected wise-woman and witch, as someone who makes hard decisions but own them, as someone who faces immense hardship without falling victim.

“Sathona,” Eris whispers, and heedless of the stories and truths of the swamp's dangers, of the mud and the water and the startled frogs, she surges forward. Sathona catches her easily, braced as she is on elegantly sweeping legs and cloven hooves. “Hello, darling,” Sathona says, the smile evident in her voice for all that Eris cannot see it with her face buried in Sathona's midriff with the force of her embrace. “Thank you for the gifts.”

The actual Savathûn/Eris aspect of this fic is wonderfully light-touch and tender, walking the line between platonic love, romance, and some secret other thing. I love the blurring of Eris' and Savathûn's identities — shared struggles and vision — in a way that slots perfectly into their canon.

Genuinely, this is one of the most refreshing and bittersweet and beautiful fics I've read in a long while. What are you doing still reading this review! Go read it instead!

[fruitless-vain]

So I am heavily hesitant to post this for a number of reasons the biggest one being- she’s in gear, publicly to you all for the first time.

Which I guess is time for her biggest announcement? She’s been cleared for public access work.

She’s had quite the rigamarole of tests and hoops to jump through to prove that she is no longer reactive to other dogs, safe if a dog approaches while I’m unconscious, stable if rushed, that her stability remains if I’m not present, handled by a stranger, you name it. she’s done it. And I kept it all a secret because I was really afraid of posting progress and failing, but we didn’t fail. and I’m so damn proud of her.

Honestly this feels overwhelmingly surreal, this dog used to be reactive to everything that moved, scared of everything she’s never met before to the point of shaking and to imagine this even being a possibility for her back then was a fairytale.

She’s been cleared for about a month now and I’ve been afraid to share it not only for the possibility of failure but also because I know the SD community is a very toxic place where many would have washed her the day they met her. I know the amount of vitriol that can fly at me for even giving her a chance to succeed, and many will always see her as a reactive anxious dog and nothing else, ignoring the fact that she hasn’t been that way for a very long time. And I’m very afraid of that quantity of judgement.

So with great hesitancy I say: Yoshi has been granted public access rights!

And today she had a very productive session at a pet friendly winners/ homesense where she got to put all of the skills she was taught on the treadmill to her first real escalator. We did about five passes walking up to it and away to watch it move and build comfort with the sounds and there’s an adjacent stairwell that runs parallel to it so we walked up and down that as well for further confidence building and watching. (Where she also met her first glass railing quite high up totally unfazed). First two tries at getting on she needed a lot of coaxing to hop on and remained pretty stiff but did do the jump on and off as was practiced on the mill. This clip is the fourth try I thiiiink? She pops her ears back to block out some sound but is overall confident with what’s happening and knows how to mount and dismount. She should be standing the whole time to keep that booty floof safe from the escalator - she keeps sitting down very visibly because she’s watching my treat hand move back which is not safe but is so clear on how comfortable and happy/ focused she is at only her fourth try. I adjusted my hands to treat from the other side on the following rep and she held the stand perfectly that time!

And if this does happen to somehow end up in the SD community which I really want no part of I will address the lack of boots here: there’s a few reasons why we felt it was safer for Yoshi personally not to use them. The boots greatly alter her body awareness, even with significant work done in that area there’s always a bit of a clown shoe situation going on, tiny dog shoes just don’t fit as well as they do for larger dogs, they’re heavier, larger, and bulkier relative to the dogs size, makes it far more likely that she will have mobility issues on the escalator when she really needs precise mobility. I have yet to find a grippy tiny dog shoe that fits her, the only pair that fits her currently is not designed for indoors and will slide risking injury. The lack of hardened rubber on her small dog shoes means the fabric is thinner and softer when paired with the above problems makes for a very high chance of the boot itself getting caught in the escalator and being the reason for injury.

She won’t be riding escalators as a primary choice, this training was chosen to occur under professional guidance as a precaution if an elevator sn’t an option when I am unable to manage stairs.

She did really really great today, I don’t know how much of her in gear working I’ll actually share purely because I don’t want my content to end up on the SD side but I really do want to share this huge success with you guys as I consider you all to be my little friend group. I know you guys here have watched the progress from the beginning and I feel like a lot of you would want to know just how great she’s become.

Last thing I want to add here is that although we are working with a group and will obviously be on the right track that way if you do ever see or feel us doing something that seems wrong please let me know. I know how easy it is to ignore things because you’re emotionally invested, last thing I want is to make a wrong call because I’m too emotionally invested to see it. So just let me know, okay?

[diamondcrownacademy]

DCA Info Part 43: Apple Jewel Outfits 🍎

Style: Classical

A brand that features a more mature and modern version of fairytale gowns. The clothes all have apple motifs and gemstone accessories. The outfits are reminiscent of 1500s clothing but with a more idol style to them. This is one of two brands that Evonie uses.

Apple Tea

"A refined lady sits in a garden surrounded by the calm winds of the forest, truly a perfect time to drink tea while the birds sing a lovely tune"

The outfit: The dress itself appears to consists of two layers, the first layer being a pale yellow dress with a waterfall hemline and lace cuffs layered underneath a red and blue dress with puff sleeves, brown braid cuffs, and brown lines dividing the colors. The footwear consists of a pair of blue shoes with gold trim and pale yellow bows.

Accessories: The outfit comes with a navy blue sunhat with pale yellow lace trim. The hat includes red ribbon with bronze trim and a bronze pearl chain and brooch with a red gem. There are also a pair of earrings that are the same shape as the hat brooch. This outfit additionally includes a blue choker with gold trim, pale yellow lace and the brooch in the same shape as before. Lastly this ensemble includes a pair of white gloves alongside a pair of blue cuffs with gold trim and pale yellow lace.

Note: This is based on Evonie’s Apple Tea Dress.

Everlasting Princess

"Red roses that signify romance of the fairytale, an ending of eternal happiness"

The outfit: This dress consists of a halter illusion top with the halter portion including a transparent deep red pattern of roses with bronze trim. The bodice itself is a straight across one, has gold trim and is pale yellow in color with ruffle trim at the bottom. The sleeves are blue off-shoulder ones with gold trim on the top and bottom with pale yellow ruffle trim and is layered over blue and yellow puff sleeves with pale yellow ruffle cuffs and the blue portion is held together with a red gem with a gold exterior. The top half of the outfit also includes a blue corset with gold outlines on the top and bottom with a red rose pattern printed on, as well as three red roses on the bottom center. The skirt is made up of two layers with the top one being an asymmetrical one with the same red rose pattern as the corset, as well as having three red roses bunched together on each side and are attached to three bronze pearl strands. The bottom layer of the skirt is a sold yellow.

Accessories: The accessories include a hairpiece that has three red roses and a blue ribbon at the end. This outfit also includes a pair of floral brooch earrings with red gems, a bronze choker attached to a strand of bronze beads and a pair of short pale yellow gloves.

Joyous Blue Bird

"Listen to the wonderful song of the friendly blue bird that met the innocent princess in a field of flowers"

The outfit: Inspired by Snow White's bluebird friends, this dress is mostly light blue in color with pale yellow accents. The dress itself has an off shoulder top with the neckline appearing to be wrapped and have pale yellow lace lining the bottom. The sleeves appear to be double puffed ones with pale yellow ruffle cuffs. The light blue portion of the top extends to the skirt and is tied to resemble flowing ruffles. The skirt is pale yellow in color and has gold lining and ruffle trim. The footwear consists of a pair of light blue boots with yellow soles and top trim as well as periwinkle petunias attached to blue ribbon.

Accessories: The accessories include a periwinkle colored petunia, gold floral earrings with blue gems, a gold necklace with a blue floral gem brooch, a blue and gold trimmed belt and a blue bird nested on top of three periwinkle petunias attached to a blue ribbon.

[crows-junk-pile]

So..... Ever After High Au. I have this idea and I can't get it out of my head so I'm making it. Also if you've read "The Fairytale Au" then a lot of who's the hermits parents are should sound familiar, if you haven't you should read it it's really good

Here's what everybody is :

Edit : changed somethings

Lizzie : Cheshire Cat

Grian : Little Red Riding Hood(and the big bad wolf)

Pearl : Robin Hood

Ren : The Big Bad Wolf(and red riding hood)

Scott : Either the Snow Queen or Kay(from the snow queen)

Tango : Red Shoes Girl

Jimmy : Little Mermaid

Scar : Puss in Boots

Evil X : Dark Fairy(from sleeping beauty)

Zed,Doc : the Billy Goats gruff

Keralis : Alice in Wonderland

X : Fairy Godmother

Shubble : Either The Wicked Witch of the East,West or the Candy Witch

Katherine : Prince Charming or The Swan Princess

Wels : Sleeping Beauty

Etho : Rumplestiltskin

Iskall,Joel : Jack(jack and the beanstalk)

Joe : Ethire someone from wonderland,a narrator(somehow he's corporeal) or beauty(from beauty and the beast,i got this from the fairy tale au)

False : Queen of Hearts or Prince Charming

Cleo : Geppetto

Xoroth(he's not corrupted don't worry) : Evil Queen

Stress : idk suggestions needed

Joey : Captain Hook

Bdubs : The Princess from princess and the pea or thumbelina

Cub : King Midas (once again I'm taking it from the fairytale au)

Jevin : The Genie(more fairytale au stuff)

Sausage : idk suggestions needed

Beef : Golden Goose(jack and the beanstalk,more fairytale au)

Xb : Ugly Duckling(fairytale au)

Impulse : Some kind of dragon(ie: the dragon from st.george,hydra), suggestions needed

Gem,Fwip : suggestions needed

Pix : Brothers Grimm(?,suggestions needed)

Oli : Pided Piper

Hypno : Rapunzel (stolen from fairytale au)

Mumbo : Magic Mirror( from snow white,stolen from fairy tale au)

TFC : suggestions needed,teacher at EAH

BigB : Candy Witch(?,suggestions needed )

Martyn : suggestions needed

Skizz : suggestions needed

[thehandwixard]

As a fashoin fan, a splatoon fan, and a splatoon fashion fan, i gotta ask. What do you think pearl and marina would wear for their wedding

hmm, im definitely getting bonuses from the fact basically every other piece of off the hook's splatfest art has different outfits for them so its pretty easy to get a feel for what they'd go for. i think both pearl and marina are equally likely to either pick a dress or suit, but lets assume a dress for both of them.

marina is fairly easy, she has these absolutely adorable ways of putting her hair up in certain pictures, and her ears are pierced

so giving her a big, delicate gold earring and a cute updo around this style would be perfectly fitting for her. shes actually worn off the hook logo earrings before too! she is exactly the kind of person who would wear them to her actual wedding. fitting with an updo, she would probably wear a dress, and marina is.. pretty universally associated with tight-fitting dresses, at least on the torso.

however, with the wavyness of her hair and the general... vibe she would have for a wedding im really picturing a princess dress skirt for her, against all odds. something still elegant, but very very fluffy. sleeveless, probably. i could also see her with a tasteful, but obviously kind of.. industrial hair accessory, like a twist of thick wire. shed just go for the fairytale perfect wedding i know she would. shoes are basically an afterthought with that kind of dress, though i think these kind of strappy, cute sandals would be fun in a fancy style. she doesnt want to be even taller than pearl on their wedding..

she seems like the type to enjoy light patterns, so maybe some tasteful seaweed/comb jelly bioluninescence patterns on the skirt. id feel weird leaving her arms bare even though i dont think this look would need jewelry, so maybe she has dual corsages or something. ill sketch this later.

now. pearl is difficult. marina has the bonus of generally being well-put together and feminine in even casual photos, especially when compared to the squid sisters. meanwhile, pearl has a generally punk princess vibe, which doesnt translate well to a formal wedding. good thing this isnt one.

i do think she would make an effort to be classy, obviously, but most of her more dressed up looks are either still business casual or costumes

but we can work with this. an immediate idea i had was a crown with a veil on it, and she would go for that. one of my favorite more formal pearl looks is this one, for salty vs sweet popcorn

and i think it mirrors her current design for damp socks in a cute way, forgoing the more pop high collar for a more mature and gentle v-neckline with straps. in contrast to marina, i think she would have the more gentle silhouette in general, more flowing outward than a sudden ball gown puff, though it would be shorter (and much easier to dance in). of course, i think she would also have sheer ruffles all over to match with marina.

shoes are.. a toss-up? i'm going to throw a dart and say just... really nice white boots like these. maybe some tasteful but still very bold decals

or one of these simple clunky heel type things. but that would have to be iridescent in some way. give and take.

Color palettes are... tough. i think in splatoon white weddings wouldnt mean much, but maybe the palette of the shoes they designed in 2 could work very well as contrasts. pearl's pastel pinks, vermillion, and light teal with marina's turquoise, gold, and purple.

i think the palette would generally be tied together with light aqua though. they both look good in it