#I hadn't seen this post earlier for some reason

[munsonsmixtapes]

You'll Fit Right In

shy!eddie x fem!reader

summary: Eddie is super nervous to meet your parents, but it turns out he has nothing to worry about as they have the exact same interests that he does

cw: Eddie has anxiety

this is a request made by @bellasm3lla in a comment on this post

You and Eddie stand on the porch of your childhood home and you can see that he's panicking. This dinner has been planned for weeks now and he's super nervous to meet your parents. Adults aside from Wayne don't seem to like him because he plays DnD and they all seem to think he's some sort of devil incarnate even though that couldn't be further from the truth.

Eddie is nothing but sweet and kind and you really hoped other people were able to see that instead of listening to silly rumors. You've always seen him for who he is and know that your parents will love him.

You've tried to tell him that they're nothing but chill, but you totally understand why he's so anxious. You've tried multiple times to give him an out, but he wouldn't take it. He just told you that he could handle it and that he wanted to at least try before he gave up.

So you're knocking on the door as he's holding onto your other hand for dear life as he rests his chin on your shoulder, inching his face towards your neck to hide as the door opens.

But as soon as it opens, his ears pick on some music playing at a loud volume. He immediately recognizes the song as Gypsy by Dio. And that's when he pulls away from you just in time to see your mom's Metallica t-shirt. Now he suddenly doesn't know why he was so nervous.

Your mom is quick to pull him into a hug and he's quick to respond, squeezing her just as tight before she pulls away, a bright smile on her face.

"Oh, it's so lovely to meet you," she gushes as she pulls him into the house, you and your dad following.

"Sorry we're late, we were cleaning up our DnD session we had earlier," your dad apologizes and Eddie's head whips around to you, silently asking you why you hadn't told him about any of that. All you had said was that they were cool. But you had told him exactly what they were into and he would just tune you out because he had convinced himself that he hadn't wanted to hear it.

"You guys play DnD?" He asks, suddenly feeling all of his nerves melt away as your mom leads him into the living room where everything from their session was still set up.

"Every week. Do you play?" Does he play? Your dad might as well have asked him if he breathed.

"I do," Eddie nods. "I'm actually the DM of my own club."

"I knew I had a good feeling about you," your mom pinches his cheek. "Can I get you a drink, Eddie? We've got some beers in the fridge."

"Sure," Eddie nods and your parents get your drink order before they both disappear into the kitchen, leaving you and Eddie alone.

He leans over to you and you give him a knowing smile as you know exactly what he's going to say.

"You didn't tell me that your parents were so cool," he whispers and you just giggle in response.

"I actually did, but you wouldn't listen to me." Eddie just waves you off as your parents as your parents enter the living room once again with your drinks and all Eddie can think about it just how he's going to fit in there and that he really was nervous for no reason. Because there, he feels right at home.

[firewasabeast]

okay so I wrote a fic based off this post that I made earlier today so... enjoy!

read here or on ao3

Thomas Kinard is eighteen years old and he just graduated basic training.

He's standing among nearly two hundred other graduates, all filled with some form of anxiety and excitement.

They're all standing at attention, although Tommy knows everyone's eyes are searching the audience.

They've all been given their orders.

They stand at attention until a family member or loved one comes and taps them out. Only then can they be at ease.

Tommy had called his dad a couple weeks ago. Left him a message on the landline about the date and time of his graduation. He hadn't expected a call back. The payphones at basic weren't great and you didn't have much spare time to be on them, but he knew his dad would get the message.

He wrote a letter to his grandparents, just in case. His aunt on his mom's side, and his older cousins too.

They'd been proud when he told them he was graduating early, joining the service, would be celebrating his eighteenth birthday in boot camp.

Even his dad has slapped him on the back and told him he was glad he was finally becoming a real man.

Tommy's eyes scanned the crowd, but it was hard to make anyone out.

He waited patiently through the ceremony. His heart skipped a beat or two when people began making their way toward the graduates.

He stood still, only his eyes darting around as the people beside him began to get tapped out. He listened to the cries of parents who had done nothing but miss their children for the past 10 weeks. Saw grown men cry at the site of their moms. Heard the laughter from boyfriends and girlfriends who surprised their partner by showing up. Watched little kids run to their sibling and wrap their arms around them in a hug.

He was certain that only a few minutes had passed, but it felt like hours.

As more and more seconds passed, his heart continued to pound, but for a different reason now.

Surely he wasn't the only one. As he glanced around, he didn't see anyone else waiting. No, he couldn't see everybody, but he was near the back in the center row so he could see most people, and they all had somebody with them.

A hand tapped his shoulder and his head jerked to the side, eyes wide. He felt a lump in the back of his throat when he saw his commanding officer standing beside him. He had the softest look on his face that Tommy had ever seen.

Pity.

“At ease, soldier.”

Tommy takes a breath, relaxes his posture. His CO moves in front of him, shakes his hand. “You've done well, Kinard. You should be proud.”

Tommy nods. Can't find his voice to speak.

He feels tears in his eyes, but he blinks them away.

He shouldn't have expected anyone to show up anyway.

He lowers his head as he walks off the field. A part of him wonders what it was all even for?

*****

Thomas Kinard is forty-eight years old and he just got promoted to captain.

It's not something he ever thought about until the past couple of years. He wouldn't get to fly much as captain. There's more paperwork, more politics, more people to answer to.

But there's also more stability. Especially with being the captain at Harbor. A regular schedule, forty-eight on and ninety-six off.

It was safer. There had been a scare a couple years back. Engine failure on his bird. He went plummeting toward the ground and, if not for a dense area of trees slowing his descent, the chopper would have exploded the second it hit the ground.

He survived, obviously, but his injuries were severe. He had a broken pelvis, fractured leg, thirty stitches down his arm, cranial bleeding, and ended up in a coma for nearly two weeks.

The recovery was long and so, so painful but he had Buck by his side every step of the way. Even the times he'd push Buck away, tell him to please just leave him alone, Buck stayed. He stayed and he learned all the physical therapy techniques and he loved Tommy through all of it.

Flying hadn't felt the same since. He was relieved when he had fully recovered. When he took his recertification classes and passed with flying colors.

But the freedom he had always felt with being in the sky changed into something completely different. There was anxiety. Relief when he was back on solid ground.

He stared out into the crowd, at the little girl sitting on Buck's lap.

Juniper. Six years old and looking more grown up every day. She was glancing all around the room, her eyes never staying in one place for very long. She kept pointing at things, leaning back to whisper into Buck's ear. He'd nod, smile, then whisper back. Tommy was sure they were swapping facts.

So much like her father, he thought.

He'd never forget the day he got home from the hospital. Juniper, only four then, staring at him as he was wheeled into the house. She was clutching onto Eddie's hand, her knuckles snow white. She hadn't gotten to see him in nearly a month, besides an occasional Facetime call.

Once he had gotten settled into the hospital bed that had been delivered to the house the day before, he called her over to him. She slowly climbed up onto the bed, Buck helping her settle beside Tommy without really touching him.

“You scared me, Papa,” she spoke quietly, eyes wet with unshed tears. “Please don't do it again.”

No, flying was never the same after that.

His eyes wander over the rest of the crowd.

A small smile breaks out over his face when he realizes he knows everyone in the first two rows.

Besides his husband and daughter, Maddie, Chimney, and Jee were there. Hen- or, Captain Wilson, now- and Karen. Eddie, Ravi, and Athena. Behind his family were all the firefighters from Harbor. They had been thrilled when they heard Tommy would be the new captain. He'd been taking cues from Bobby recently, starting special dinners with the crew and getting to know them better before he even became captain. He wanted his team to know he'd be there for them, that they could count on him. From the excitement they showed when it was officially announced that he'd be the new captain, he was fairly certain he'd done a good job so far.

The only person not in the audience today was Bobby. But, that was simply because Chief Nash was the one leading the ceremony.

Tommy takes another look around at the family in front of him. He waves at Juniper. She grins wide, showing off her missing front teeth, waves enthusiastically.

His eyes meet Evan's. Tommy gives him a wink. Buck smiles, winks back.

He straightens his posture as the ceremony begins.

He thinks, this... this is what it's all for.

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Hi, darling! Sorry for the bother, first and foremost. I've seen a similar post of yours before so I would like to see ur take on Cruella!Reader x Vil if it interests you enough. Their duo would really be smthng, especially w/ such distinct & contrasting personalities. I would love to see it platonic. Have fun & thanks!

Add a Little more Flair

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

A/n: ackk you’re so sweet Anonnie, I didn’t expect being called a darling (๑>◡<๑) and the fic you might be talking about is Beauty in Chaos! Genre: Fluff Pairing: None (Platonic Vil & Gn Reader) Credits: The design was made by me in Canva and the art that was used is all from the Official Twisted Wonderland Cards. The line breakers are from Kaomoji dividers! Masterlist

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

If there was a dormitory you were most suited for, it was Pomefiore, you just felt at home in the luxurious vibe of it, while in your world before, you were someone who got by and was financially stable enough to buy the latest fashion trends of outfits, in this world you had a tiny bit of problem with that.

With no income to take out from, the thaumarks you’re given could only be used for necessities that could sustain you and Grim, any extras would be used to renovate Ramshackle. You were fine with it of course; however, you knew your worth and hoped that the extra overtime you had to put in due to Crowley’s incompetence would soon be recognized and rewarded. He was fortunate you hadn't filed a complaint.

When you first met Vil, you didn’t expect him to look this divine at all, he was the epitome of beauty! However, you knew that he could use a bit of glitz in his taste in fashion, you would expect someone like him to choose colors that truly highlighted his features, rather than the bland shades that made him blend in with all the "Potatoes."

“You know,” You spoke, breaking the tension that was marinating in the living room of Pomefiore, the reason you were there was because Epel decided to invite you to play cards with him, Ace and Deuce, using some new game cards from his hometown that his grandmother gave him, but didn’t expect that Vil would be around and not doing any housewarden duties outside.

“What is it?” Vil glanced down, surprised by your sheer audacity to stop him from scolding Epel for inviting you and the others without his permission. “You’re gorgeous” you blurt out as you touch the helm of his sleeve “But would it hurt you to add a little more flair to your outfits?” you let his sleeves go. Vil’s eyes narrowed “What do you mean by that?” he questioned further, crossing his arms as his eyebrows furrowed, not expecting you to give constructive criticism on his outfit, especially since all he’s wearing is his dormitory’s robe, what’s wrong with it? , but he’ll bite, he’s curious about what you have to say.

“There’s no rule against adding a personal touch to your uniform,” you said, your hand gently clasping his wrist as you pulled him closer, your eyes fixated on the luxurious silk fabric. “You could incorporate some elegant jewelry,” you suggested, your voice trailing off as you imagined the possibilities. “And how about a stylish fur coat? Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“What exactly are you suggesting?” He was growing increasingly confused by your mixed-up words. Did you want him to add jewelry? Wouldn’t that overshadow his face if he wore fancy jewelry or a fur coat? Who are you? Crewel?

“If you’d let me, I’d be thrilled to sketch a design to make Pomefiore’s uniform more lavish!” you exclaim, your earlier composure giving way to enthusiastic fangirl excitement.

“Hey- dude- I don’t think” Epel was going to grab your shoulder, but you ducked down on your bag, opening it and pulling out a sketchbook. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity Epel!” you said, eyes twinkling, “Pomefiore is one of the most eye-catching dormitories I’ve seen out of all the dormitories, it'll be nice if I could find a way to make all of your designs more outstanding”

Hearing that made Vil huff almost proudly, “Well, with a compliment like that” he drawls out, eyes closing as he presses his hand on his head, “If you could present to me a “lavishing” design of an outfit, then you’re free to do so,”

Epel stares at you out of shock, along with your two other friends, even Grim is surprised. “I didn’t expect you to have such a …” Epel tried to find the right word while looking shocked, But Rook popped out of nowhere and finished his sentence. “passionné for beauty?”

“Gah!” Epel squeaks out, while you are busy sketching a quick sketch of your inspiration. “Bonjour” he greets, eyes scanning everyone as he goes beside Vil, who is intently watching. “My, the sketch on the other side shows experience in their work” he compliments you, as his eyes tear off from your book to Vil, “If the outfit they sketch fancies you” he says, as he backs away, creating a bit of distance to fully admire Vil, who glanced at him “Would you consider changing the design of our fair uniforms? Roi du Poison?”

“That’ll depend” he sighs, while he was intrigued that you immediately went to work in front of him, he has an inkling of suspicion that you were related to Crewel in some way, one of the professors that helps him with the creations of designs.

“Here” You shoved the sketch into his hand, and he grabbed it, scanning the piece of work you created, he’s impressed, this looked rather beautiful he’ll give you that, but with how big you made the fur that was wrapped around the host’s shoulder, (which he thinks might be him due to the hairstyle)  you made him look like some kind of beast, which irked him, remembering how Leona is. Overall, the colors that were added were solely complimenting and making the individual dorm robes prettier.

“While I certainly think that the… furs are lovely” he says, looking at you while you look back at him with sparkling eyes, as if you’re waiting for his approval, for some reason, he couldn’t say what he’s about to say to your face, sighing in defeat, he hands you back your notebook. “How about you give me a physical design of this?”

“Really?” you nearly jump as you grab your notebook, closing it swiftly, but freezing up as you stare at him, a nervous smile etched to your face “I… don’t have the materials”

“I know,” Vil said, extending his hand expectantly. A student promptly placed Vil’s wallet into his palm. “That’s why I’ll be sponsoring you for the silk and equipment you’ll need,”

Rook watched the entire exchange with a gentle smile, pleasantly surprised that Vil hadn't rejected the idea outright. Vil was known for his discerning standards and rarely entertained notions he deemed absurd. As Rook tapped his chin thoughtfully and gazed intently at Vil, he wondered if Vil genuinely desired a fur scarf, or if it was a test of your sincerity in your admiration for the Pomefiore Dormitory. New designs were always welcome in Pomefiore, but the housewarden had high expectations for anything that adorned his dorm. As long as they met his exacting standards and were deemed beautiful in his eyes, they had a chance.

“Are you sure about this?” You felt guilty as Vil showed you a credit card, was he going to let you run around with it? It’s a black card too!

Seemingly reading your mind, Vil scoffed. “You’re mistaken if you think I’ll just hand this over to you,” he said, seeing your hand twitch toward the scarf only for it to be pulled away and slipped back into the dark purple wallet. “I’ll be accompanying you to the mall,” he declared. Epel, wide-eyed, gasped, “What?” and quickly went besides you instead of staying behind.

“I doubt you’d know what fabric our dormitory use,” he remarks before shushing you when you were about to speak, knowing that you were about to say the exact fabric that it uses “And even if you do, you don’t have any expenses to create one”

“But-“ he glares at you, effectively shutting you up, he knows you were planning to appeal to him that you can buy the fabric on your own, and while that was what you were planning to do, it wasn’t to max out the credit card, but it’s to avoid burdening Vil.

“I will come with you, no questions asked,” he finishes, turning away, “Also please find an appropriate attire for that, we’ll leave in Friday “As he leaves you stood there dumbfounded, you turned your head to Epel, who looked as shock as you.

“…. I don’t have an appropriate attire to wear for Friday”

“That’s what you’re worried about!?”

The day you were anticipating with Vil wracked your nerves either way, your wardrobe wasn’t exactly befitting you, especially with your will to look as impressive as you are currently, which isn’t as impressive as one thinks.

You only had a few shirts, and some pants that Crowley bought you during his time of vacation the blinding color of bright orange and light blue made your eyes sore, and that design…

You gulp, grabbing it, your uniform’s pants were already dirty, and you would either suck it up and go like this or smell bad, a “pick your poison” type of choice.

“What in the world are you wearing.” Is what Vil said the moment he knocked on your door, expecting a decent outfit instead of whatever monstrosity you decided to assault his eyes with.

“It’s not that bad” you jab, not wanting to look down at all as you tried your best to at least make the colors work but it became a rainbow of disaster instead.

“You’re not going to go out with me in that outfit” he pushes you back in,  as a flurry of protest came out, Grim was currently out with Ace and Deuce, talking about going on a hangout without you as revenge for going to the mall with Vil only. The moment Vil reached your bedroom, you sat down on your bed with a huff, “Surely you’re just creating a mockery of me with how horrendous that outfit is” he said, glaring at the wardrobe as he opened it, only to reveal… nothing. His eyes widen at the sad aura the inside was letting out, it almost looks depressing. “You weren’t just making it up” he droops a bit as you stand up, “my uniform is in the laundry I haven’t cleaned it up” You sigh, feeling embarrassed by the lack of finesse. Vil sighs exasperatedly, offering his hand as he pinches the bridge of his nose “I have spare clothing that would look better on you” he extends his hand for you to take easier, which you do, not wanting Vil to come dragging you out.

Strolling back to Pomefiore with his hand on yours, he immediately goes to his bedroom, opening his own wardrobe, which has its own room.

Vil checked on the plastered tags on each outfit, these were what he had worn long ago, surely there was one that would fit your vibe and whole aesthetic, as you watched from behind him, Vil’s attention diverted to a black outfit that would fit your figure, he promptly takes it out, giving it to you. “Here”

Your eyes fixated on the black outfit that Vil pulled out, feeling a magnetic pull on it as you grabbed the outfit, “I’ll try it on” you declared before Vil could even say anything, a faint smile was now plastered on his face as he chuckles “Very well” he liked people who didn’t question his taste, and much more if they understood that what he picked was simple phenomenal, it fits you.  He couldn’t stop his heart from fluttering since this time you didn’t question or debate him with his taste.

Which made him wonder if he wanted your approval?

The moment he walks out of the wardrobe room, you start to dress up, pushing the fabric down, to smoothening the wrinkles off your outfit. To others the outfit might be extreme considering you’re not going to a fancy party, just going to the mall to go on a shopping spree. However, to you and Vil, looking your best no matter what situation it was crucial.

You stared at the huge mirror in front of you, humming while you thought it looked great however something was missing, more specifically… you look around hand touching each fabric as you feel something soft, eyes widening out of mirth as you grab it out of the hanger, your expression beams as you wrap it around yourself.

“A scarf! Perfect!” You squealed out as you looked at yourself, now you look fantastic!

Vil on the other hand was sitting down, fixing his face with light makeup, the fabric had a subtle sheen, catching the light with every movement, and the jacket's sharp lines accentuated his impeccable taste. Complementing the suit was a silk tie in a deeper shade of violet, perfectly knotted and adding a touch of luxury to his ensemble. It fits him, hopefully your unique taste made your body and face stand out as well as his does.

Although, in his mind, when it comes to elegance, both the body, face, and the attire they’d be wearing speak volumes of what kind of person one truly is.

“I’m done” his thoughts were cut briefly as his eyes darted to where you were, he blinked in surprise at how you looked. The outfit you were wearing was perfect, it made you look elegant, as well as the fur scarf that was draped on your shoulders, he didn’t even think that he had one hiding in his wardrobe, and is that…

“Are those some of my jewels?” he chuckles, standing up and walking over to you. As he pushes your hair back, admiring the intricate design of the earrings you picked out. You’ve outdone even his expectations.

You earned his respect, unaware of his admiration for your taste you sheepishly grin, “You don’t mind right?” you asked, fiddling with your fingers as Vil shook his head. “Nope, I trusted my judgment to let you pick your own clothing after giving you that outfit”

He pats your head before stopping himself, not wanting to ruin the hairstyle you picked out for yourself, “I didn’t expect us to both be wearing something extravagant just to go on a shopping spree” You laughed, nudging his arm “Please, the employees might think we’re millionaires” you joked, making Vil laugh with you. “I am a worldwide known model, they’ll know that, for you though,” he hums, thinking about the possible scandal, which he prepared thoroughly for, as he walks over to his phone, grabbing it. “I decided to go to the mall my father frequents,” he adds, tapping his phone as he texts his driver. “My reputation won’t be scandalized with that mall, since it is often frequented by businessmen and ambassadors”

You nod in acknowledgment, excited to go to a mall with such high profiled people around. “Alright, I’m fine with that” You tap the heels of your feet, trying to fit the shoes that you picked out better, you’re pleasantly surprised that Vil almost had all the sizes, man or woman, which is great.

The moment you went out of Night Raven, Epel went to meet up to you, he looked a bit flustered seeing you in such an outfit that it looked almost natural. He was going to check If Vil was going to drag you but didn’t realize that you wanted to do this in the first place, the bracelet you were wearing, the lipstick and light make up you placed on your face fluctuated your prettiness, making Epel look pale in comparison to you. Rook on the other hand, spouted compliment after compliment to you and Vil, how you two looked like partners in crime, Vil’s nose crinkled as he sighs.

“Enough with the pointless compliments Rook, I appreciate it” he stops Rook, who obediently went silent, a small smile on his lips plastered on his face.  “We’re running late, take care of the dormitory in the meantime”

“Oh, Roi du Poison, I apologize for keeping you,” he says as he walks closer, touching Vil’s hand and placing a kiss on it. “Have fun on your trip, I’ll make sure to keep Pomefiore in flawless shape once you’re back”

Vil nods as he opens the door to the back seat, letting you go in first before he does. The driver greets both of you with a good morning before Vil instructs him to drive.

You had a mirror with you as you reapplied a bit of your chipped makeup because Epel hugged you tightly to the point some of your makeup stained his uniform, hopefully, the foundation you used was easy to take off, worried for your friend’s outfit.

During the whole ride to the mall, you and Vil were silent, both busy with your own thing, the driver who thought you might be Vil’s lover started to feel uneasy that he might have gotten it wrong, happy that he didn’t decide to pry into Vil’s life.

After the ride, you and Vil managed to arrive at the mall safely, your eyes once again sparkling as your heels tap on the pristine floor, the whole vibe of the mall screams luxury, with well-known brands from all over the world spreading out. Louis Vuitton, Chanel, and Prada are on the first floor already. “Wow” you gasp out while Vil smiles, no matter how many times he has gone here already, the architectural designs of the building never fail to impress him either way, the mix of nature and intricate designs, it made him feel at home sometimes.

Too bad you’re only around here to buy fabrics for the creation of the uniform you desire. “Where should we go from here?” you asked, eyes tearing away from admiring and back to Vil’s face.

Vil hums as he walks forward, not looking behind since he knows you’ll follow, like a chick to a mother hen. “Since we’re already here” he trails, “might as well buy something for you”

“What?” your eyes widen, buying, here? Sure, you could do that in your world before, but currently, you don’t have a cent to your name as Vil only gave you a dismissive wave. “Think of it as repayment for helping me snap out of my Overblot” he says, hoping that this adventure of yours wouldn’t look like he’s always going to give out charity.

“Also” he adds, staring down at you realizing the stark contrast of your horrendous outfit to the one he recommended you in, “I rather see you in decent outfits than that monstrous combination you had due to your limited wardrobe” “Fair” you said, nodding at that outfit you had to force yourself to wear.

Half of the day was spent with you and Vil idly picking dresses, outfits that would fit you, ranging from what you can wear for outside, inside, formal and others. Vil seemed to have said less about your unique taste, realizing how much you love synthetic fur, similar to Crewel.

“Are you related to Crewel?” he asked since you two recently just finished a shopping spree, with him carrying your bags since he could never let you carry Them, you carried a few bags, but most of it was carried by him, you, who was munching on the parfait you ordered. “No” you flat out said, if you were related to him, he would have given you plenty of outfits instead of leaving you with one uniform and a few other uniforms such as PE pants and shirt.

“Your taste in outfit reminded me of his” Vil hums out, taking a bite of the banana cue desert. “Oh please, if he was truly related to me,” you add, pointing the spoon at Vil, “You think I would have to wear that blinding orange, blue pants with matching maroon colored shirt?”

Vil laughed pushing the spoon down with his spoon “Seriously” he chuckled, hiding his lap using his hand. “You’re hopeless with that outfit, I’m glad I dragged you here”

You smile softly, liking the way that he relaxed around you. You and Vil were like two peas in a pod. After taking a quick break, you grabbed the sketchbook you had out, looking at the fabric you needed and how much you needed. Vil stared at the sketchbook before guiding you up to the last floor, where they sell fabric. “Is this where the fabric for Pomefiore was bought?” you asked, curious if that’s how expensive it would be if that was true, imagining the expenses already made you dizzy.

“Of course, not” he flat out said, making you droop “Then what’s our trip for here?” you complained, unsure if you want to use any other type of fabric if you’re truly set out in changing the form of their attires.

“Fret not” he says rather confidently, “The fabric here is more top-notch than ours,” he says “If you manage to create a fascinating example of your sketch, then I’ll try contributing extra money to have the headmaster let us handle the major changes,” he says, causing you to think about it more deeply. If you could do a good job in this, then your desired outfit will come true!

Nodding to Vil, you went ahead and went inside the store to get the necessary things you need. It only took you about an hour to pick as the employee is ecstatic to see the Vil Schoenheit buy from them. After finishing, Vil was already having trouble carrying the plethora of bags, so you two decided to sit down for a second, as he calls for the driver.

The driver immediately went to aid both of you, sweat dropping when he saw how many bags you and Vil had, is that even going to fit the trunk?

Miraculously the driver managed to get it all in, with minimal struggling, he should get a raise for his hard work as he smiles proudly at Vil, who gives him a tip for his work. “Good job, my father compensates you fairly, yes?” he asked as he went in, the driver pocketing the money as he nodded. “Yes sir, thank you for trusting me in your endeavor,” he said, as he started the car, quite happy that Vil was like his father, nice and sweet.

The moment they reached the Night Raven College’s parking lot, Vil already had a few students called out, specifically Rook and Epel, who was surprised by the number of bags. “Some of them shall be distributed to the Pomefiore students” he states, Epel is surprised remaining as he received an article of clothing, this is… a clothing from Prada?!

You who went out looking pretty as ever went to hug Epel who hugged back, but he just showed you the contents of the bag. “What is this?!” he asked, hoping that it wasn’t your money or you who coerced Vil to buy such expensive clothing.

“I didn’t! that’s all your housewarden’s doing” you teased, ruffling Epel’s hair. While Vil went to speak with the other students, handing them distinctive clothing that he put a lot of thought into buying, the driver went to give you the fabric and designs you had bought.  Carrying it, you walk to Vil. “Vil” you called out, catching Vil’s attention almost immediately, you seemed to struggle carrying the heavy bag so he advised Rook to carry it, which he did without complaining. “Thank you” You were starting to take off the gold jewelry you were wearing since you are planning to go back to your Ramshackle, thinking about how you left it locked all day, plus you wanted to start working on designing.

Vil stops you as he sighs “Just keep it, wear it whenever we go out” he adds before touching your cheek and giving it a pinch “It suits you, get some rest, I’ll be taking my rest as well” he advises, making you smile. “Sure, Good night Vil,” you said as you took off your heels, feeling the sole of your feet throb from all that walking. “Rook, you don’t mind escorting them back right?” Vil said, as Rook nodded, “Of course Roi du Poison” he looked down at you “You don’t mind me right Trickster?” he said softly, you laughed slightly“Of course not,” you said, as you were going to rest for awhile at first, but Epel seemed to have noticed that your legs were starting to hurt, he goes to take his shoes off, giving it to you. “Here, your feet looked bad” he mutters, as you watch him kneel down, grabbing your leg. “Oh!” you jolt at the sudden gentlemanly behavior of your friend, who seemed flustered having to do this. “Thank you, Epel,” you said, after he finished you ruffled his hair making him whine “Hey!” As you bid farewell to the Pomefiore students and the housewarden, Rook was silent throughout the way back to Ramshackle, he stood there, as you checked to see if the door was still unlocked, and to your surprise, It was unlocked, upon opening it you see Grim who was playing cards with Ace and Deuce. “Took you long enough!” Ace glared at you, clearly disdained at the idea that you had to be gone the whole day. “Grim was crying the whole time you were gone” Deuce teased as he placed the +4 uno card down, making both your friends whine and throw the Uno cards down. “I quit!” Ace huffs, clearly annoyed that Deuce was kind of good with this. You chuckle as Rook goes inside, “Bonjour” he greets them once again with a smile, seeing the heavy bag, the trio went to clean the table in order to make way for the bag.

“Merci” Rook says softly, as he lets the bag go. Grim already went to look inside, expecting tuna but all he saw was fabric. “What is this?” he whined as you sigh, sitting down on the couch, and planting your head on the soft pillow. “You were there when I asked Vil to let me design the robes right?” “Yeah” Ace nods, scratching the back of his neck, “I thought you were joking?” he admitted, making you laugh. “That’s ridiculous,” you said, as Rook smiled. “I admire your resilience Trickster” he turns around “I hope to see the fruits of your labor soon” he adds as he waves goodbye, to you and your friends, not wanting to intrude further. You sigh, realizing that you showed your project to Vil way too early, not thinking about the amount of hard labor you’ll have to do, while you’re happy with the outfits he bought you aren’t exactly sure if the payment matches the labor you’ll be doing.

Realizing your little problem as if he’s a mind reader, Ace sighs “We can help you if you want” he offers, making you glance at him, Deuce didn’t seem to be bothered by the idea. “I agree,” he adds “It’ll be payment for helping us on the overblot last time”

Grim who huffed, crossing his arms while he flops his ears “I guess it’s fine by me too”

“You guys…” you smile, jumping on them as you hug them tightly, “Thank you so much” you said, happy that they were friends you could rely on.

So, in a few weeks, you had help, making the workload much easier, the design had to be tweaked and you went to Pomefiore just to measure Vil’s width, height, and length, taking an extra robe for reference too.

You truly made your friends go ragged, Ace looked like he’s on death’s door with how he’s been cutting fabric, and measuring it, while Deuce helped you with knitting, and Grim, whose tiny paws were starting to get tired of holding your sketchbook.

After a whole month of nonstop grinding, you were happy that schoolwork was lenient as well, with the professors busy preparing for other events, and guiding each individual club.

The moment your past sleepless nights finally paid off as the design you created came to life, your eyes sparkled, falling down on the floor, making Ace catch you. “Hey! Careful!” he scolds you, but you just laugh. ‘It’s done” you said, feeling exhaustion creeping into your system, “Hey… Call Vil I’m going to…” before you can even finish the sentence, your vision goes black.

The only things you felt were being carried, placed on something soft, as you drift into sleep.

After a few hours, you heard talking, making you stir up from your sleep. “… the fabric is nice..” you heard as you regained your senses, with Vil already tracing his fingers on your finest creation. You jolt awake, and the sudden sit up made your head ache. “Don’t move” Vil said, noticing you’re finally awake as he walks towards you, giving you water. “You…” he glares at you, eyebrows knitting in frustration. “I never set a deadline” he said apprehensively, “So why in the sevens did you have to push yourself that hard?”

You scratch your cheek sheepishly “Sorry, I thought that if I don’t finish it within a month you would forget” you admit, knowing that Vil’s expectations were high you truly didn’t want to disappoint him.

Vil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose once again when he felt a migraine coming. “You did a great job,” he says, making you jolt cause that compliment was out of nowhere “But if you created the outfit with moderation” he adds, standing up from kneeling to go to your eye level, “I wouldn’t feel guilty for having high expectations for you.

“Wait, do you mean?” you frown, your hard work would go to waste if he disregarded it. “The outfit is fascinating, however, I cannot just implement such a complicated design”

You were close to crying, all that work just for nothing. “However” Vil added with haste “I could wear this in occasion” he said, “Like foundation day, I’ll keep this” It was rare for Vil to stumble over his words, placing a hand on your head, “So, don’t cry, you did great, splendid even” Feeling relief wash over you, you lean to the pat, “Thank you”

[nquesoxlies]

Hi Queso 👋

The self gaslighting over Bobby not being dead has me really concerned for Thursday. I've heard loads of TV studios, actors and crew sent death threats and physical harassment. (I don't think any of the tiktok "creators" would do this) Because they're upset over programs and people who are convinced they've been lied to can be dangerous and We've already had the in poor taste billboard

With Oliver deleting his peter post I've seen many people claiming this is proof he's alive ( as if Oliver doesn't delete most of his posts) and the general BoBs consensus over no one is watching because Bobby's dead (proven false), all the cast and crew are unhappy (do these people not have works besties I'm always upset when they or I have to leave for many reasons doesn't mean we would stage a coup like some people are suggesting)

It's very clear with the official press from 911 and the cast that Bobby's dead and this final arc is paying Homage to irl firefighters and that if this is a fake out it will be incredibly insensitive. Nevermind they did the fake out last season (if the strikes hadn't happened or were resolved earlier and we got a full season I presume this would have happened then)

This isn't including the buddie and Eddie of it all and how many people seem to think this is the reward for surviving destiel sticky sterek ect

Annie, you live in my fucking brain!! I literally just had this conversation with the chat lol

I understand people being upset and that's valid. But I'm mostly concerned with all this hope some people are trying to spread. It's going to be bad.

I wouldn't worry about fans really lashing out violently, though. I get the feeling their bark is way scarier than their bite.

[ysrjune]

☁︎ And I smile when I think of all the times we had. .ᐟ

happy sweet 16 to me guys yay! The stuff being posted today isn't birthday related writing I just wanted to post these today because I'll be busy and I've been putting off writing so much. I gave Scott a sister in this. I hope you dont mind.. Anyways, enjoy!

It had been weeks since Scott last saw you. You broke up with him before a date he had planned for the both of you. He was going to take you to a nice restaurant, then to a carnival. But you had different plans. You didn't even have a good enough reason to break up with him. You just didn't want to be with him anymore.

The day of your date, he knocked at your door at 5pm. He was dressed nice, smelled good, and had your favorite flowers in his hands. "Hey," he starts, his eyes darting down to your comfortable outfit. He was confused. Had you forgotten about your date? "Uh.. why aren't you dressed? We have plans, remember?" There was no way you did. He checked up with you this morning. "Im not going, Scott." You reply. Scott cocks an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? Did something come up?", "Yeah. I don't want to be with you anymore, Scott. I just.. I don't feel anything towards you anymore. I can't find an easier way to say it."

He didn't ask for any further explanation. There was no use. You had just said it straight up, so what more could he ask for? His heart dropped to his stomach while it also turned. He felt sick. "Okay." he says in a more serious tone. "But you couldn't tell me this earlier?" He scoffs. "Some considerate person you are." Scott shakes his head. "Whatever. it's Fine. Just.. tell your mom I said hi." He sighs and gives you the bouquet of flowers. "Aren't you gonna throw them away?" You ask. "No, I bought them for you.", "Well I don't want them. You might as well." That really struck him. He wanted to cry. "Kay." He says softly and takes them back.

"Have a good rest of your afternoon. Tell your sisters and parents I said hi." Were his last words before turning and walking off. As soon as you closed the door, he started to sob. You weren't his first breakup, but you were his first heartbreak. His first love, and you just threw him out like trash after everything you've been through together. In his car, he cried. He cried so hard that he was becoming sleepy. Eyes puffy and red. He could be mistaken for high. Atleast he was still fine to drive.

"I dont know, she just.. she doesn't want me anymore! I don't know what I did wrong." He cries into the arms of his little sister. 13 year old sister to be exact. She frowns, holding her brother against her chest. "I don't think you did anything wrong, Scott. Maybe she just wants to move on." She caressed his neck. "But why?" He whines into her chest. "I gave her everything and more! Why doesn't she want me?" The blonde sobs. His sister has hardly ever seen Scott this upset. It was so depressing seeing her usually tough, nonchalant brother like this. The rest of the night until she had to go to bed, she held him and tried to keep his mind off of it.

"Do you regret it? Being with her?" One of Scott's football friends asked him. "No. I don't regret anything.", "She was so mean about it though! Like, she didn't even try to be nice." The boy replies. Scott only shrugs. "Doesn't matter. I appreciate every second she was with me.", "Look, man. I know you loved he-" he was cut off by Scott. "Love. Not Loved." He corrects.

Returning his things to him was the worst part, because that really let him know that you were officially done. he also gave some of your stuff back. Perfume that you gave him so he could spray it on himself or around his room whenever he missed you, bracelets, love letters, gifts.. but he kept one. He kept a teddy bear you gave him. You didn't ask about it because you had forgotten. He also had sprayed your perfume on it. He cuddled with it for months straight.

He hadn't deleted videos or photos of you on his phone. He often looks back at them and cries whenever he hears you calling him your baby or your handsome boy. You were so damn sweet to him and you just fucking left like it was nothing-like he was nothing. Sometimes he'd even go crazy in his room, trashing everything. He had such a hard time understanding why you did this to him. How could you do this. You knew how much he needed you but you didn't even give it a thought to let him off easy. He hated it.

When he sees you walking around with another guy, he gets totally insecure. That guy was nothing like him. The complete opposite. He'd start overthinking if you even loved him or not. Maybe you just felt bad and that's why you went out with him.. you definitely just felt bad because of all the trauma he's been through. He just needed someone for a little bit, and you could do that. you did do it, and it was finally done.

Jesus, he's never getting over this. At least not for a very long time.

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaasxo @anakinca @dollfilmz @alexlovesysrjune @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira

[blackjackkent]

While testing something in BG3 earlier, I ended up wandering into the initial encounter at Elerrathin's Home WITHOUT Jaheira and discovered some new dialogue I hadn't seen before! Posting it here as part of my ongoing duty to provide any and all Jaheira-related content possible.

This is probably not an exhaustive collection of all dialogue available in this scenario, but I've dug up as much as I can (and done my best to clean up the often interconnected dialogue leaves into something readable :P ).

-----

Starting with Fig!

FIG: Oi, stop a moment! FIG: Right. You look harmless enough. The commander keeps an open house, so you may pass. PLAYER: Who's the commander? FIG: That's secret. And anyway, she's away, so Rion's in charge. So be nice to Rion, or I'll kick you out. (OR) PLAYER: Thank you, noble sentinel. FIG: I'm not a centipede, I'm a guard. (OR, if Minsc present) PLAYER: Wait, little girl - how do you know Minsc? FIG: I'm not a little girl, I'm a warrior. MINSC: Even I could have told you - this was a silly thing to say. FIG: Now pass!

On subsequent conversations:

FIG: Move on. Commander might be away, but I keep a tidy house for her.

-----

Rion and Jord have different ambient banter when you get inside!

RION: Where's the boy got to, Jord? JORD: The boy is upstairs. The girls were a little rough in their play earlier. (Devnote: Wry - emphasis on 'the boy' is in response to Rion calling the youngest child that instead of his name. 'The girls' is an echo of that stress") RION: Chauntea's cheeks, I told them to give him space. That's two volunteers for dishes later, then. (Devnote: Dark foreboding - the girls are in trouble)

JORD: Telk says they shut the Church of Last Hope down. RION: And how did Telk see that, through the bottom of her drinking mug? (Devnote: Snorting, derisive of this friend of the family) JORD: She was stone cold sober. Heard it from Mother Aramina herself - the Steel Watch said they were only 'encouraging the refugees into an unlawful gathering'. (Devnote: Grim humour, passing on stories from the city to his sister) RION: Aye. A warm meal and a scrap of rags to sleep on must be very encouraging. Well, the mother knows-- (Sarcastic - what little the refugees were being offered was hardly reason to shut the shelter down) JORD: That we have space to spare if she needs it. Aye, I passed it on. (Devnote: Smoothly reassuring, cutting his sister off - she doesn't need to worry, he already passed on what she was going to ask.)

RION: Throw some cabbage on your list for the market, Jord. JORD: You know I could just grow it myself. Even a lowly apprentice can manage that much. (Devnote: A little affronted - he's in training as a druid, not fully in his power yet) RION: I know you can, brother. Just being careful - don't want the young ones going all weird from eating mystical greens. (Devnote: Tone is 'hey, I mean no offense') JORD: What do you mean, 'weird'? (Devnote: Now very affronted - his sister has implied his magically cultivated food would poison the kids) RION: Well. Fig. (Devnote: Shrugging - using the youngest of their siblings as an example of how the kids are weird. Just her name alone is argument enough.) JORD: Ah. Fig. Yeah, fair enough. (Devnote: Anger dissipating into immediate agreement - Fig IS weird )

-----

Speaking to Rion first:

RION: Make a habit of just letting yourself into people's homes, do you? My mother's not here, if that's who you've come to see. (If Minsc present) MINSC: Eh, Rion...? We know your mother is not here. She is travelling with us. (Devnote: Speaking up as Rion hasn't seen him yet - a little sheepish to correct her) RION: Minsc? I don't understand - she was chasing down the cult for a lead to save you. If she's already done it... MINSC: Ah, well. If Boo were to be technical, he would say that it is not Jaheira alone who saved Minsc. It was this one here. (Devnote: Still a little sheepish, no direct gesture to player) PLAYER: Who's your mother? RION: ...So you're not here to see her? Who are you, then? It's a bold thief who would just stroll into the druid Jaheira's home. Still time to turn around and go. PLAYER: Wait - I know Jaheira. I've just returned to the city with her. RION: She's... she's alive? Who are you to her - a Harper? PLAYER: A friend. Though maybe not so close as I'd hoped - she never mentioned you. (OR) I'm [NAME]. Your mother hasn't mentioned me in any letters? RION: Don't be too wounded. Up until this moment, she was missing - presumed dead out in the shadowlands. (OR) PLAYER: Allies. We fought General Ketheric Thorm together. RION: General...? We'd heard of the cult army heading this way - I assumed she'd died trying to stop it. RION: But... she's alive. EVERYONE, SHE'S ALIVE! RION: Bring her here. So we can kill her.

On subsequent conversations:

RION: Bring Jaheira home. We are in dire need of a mother-daughter chat.

Rion also has two unique dialogues if you speak to her directly as Minsc. The first, if Jaheira IS present and had the intro conversation:

RION: I hear you've been causing mother some trouble. Remember what I told you about causing mother trouble? MINSC: There was talk of your hammer. And... Minsc's head as the anvil. RION: Good boy. Just remember, Fig has always wanted a hamster. MINSC: Boo would be proud, to join such a warrior in battle! MINSC: But Minsc would be dead. You are heard and understood, Rion.

The second, if Jaheira is NOT present AND Rion doesn't know she's alive yet:

RION: Minsc. I... wasn't expecting to see you. If you're looking for mother, I... well. There's no easy way to say it: she's dead. The great Jaheira finally her match, taking down General Ketheric Thorm out in the shadowlands. MINSC: Ah... Rion? Minsc does not like to correct you, but... I think you are mistaken. Jaheira is not dead! Just a short time ago, she pretended to be angry at Boo for rolling around in her herb-pouch. (This then leads to the above "EVERYONE, SHE'S ALIVE!" line.)

-----

Speaking to Jord first:

JORD: If you're here about the vines, I've cleared them off the neighbouring houses already. Can't promise it'll be the last time. The druid's away for a while - I'm just her son. And apprentice too, for my sins. (If Minsc present) MINSC: Aha! Jaheira has left you some tasks while she was away, Jord? JORD: Minsc? She's not... away. She's gone. I am sorry. MINSC: And I am confused. She is not with us at this very moment, no - but she's around the city somewhere. (Devnote: Quizzical) JORD: What? You know where mum is? Tell Rion - quickly! (Otherwise) PLAYER (DRUID): An urban grove is nothing strange. Life takes many forms, and nature is hardier than any stone walls. JORD: YES! Thank you. Meet my mother when she returns - put it that way, and you might just convince her. (OR) PLAYER: Why would this place need a druid? It's a house, in the middle of the city. JORD: You think like my mother - that's why she keeps a small grove here. To 'return nature to the unnatural'. JORD: Me, I don't think nature ever left. People lay down cobbles, aye, but seeds still sprout between the cracks. (OR) PLAYER: Who's your mother? JORD: Oh. I... took you for a friend of hers. The druid, Jaheira? (OR) PLAYER: I know Jaheira. We're travelling together, in fact. JORD: What? You know where mum is? Tell Rion - quickly!

On subsequent conversations:

JORD: Bring mum back. It won't come to blows, whatever Rion says. Probably, it won't.

Jord also has a unique conversation if initially spoken to as Minsc directly:

JORD: Minsc? MINSC: Jord! I think this druidry suits you - you have grown taller than Minsc! (Devnote: Happy to see Jaheira's son) JORD: You've come back at a... sad time, ranger. Jaheira's gone. MINSC: I am not sure why this is such sad news...? Your mother is with us! Not this very moment, no - Boo thinks she is probably shouting at a tree stump somewhere. (Devnote: Quizzical - doesn't understand that Jord thinks Jaheira is dead) JORD: Wait - what? You know where mum is? Tell Rion - quickly!

-----

And finally Jhessem and Tate, who each only have a couple interaction lines each to direct the player back towards Rion and Jord:

JHESSEM: Greetings, saer. You have not been announced to this court, and we deign not to speak with thee.

JHESSEM: You may enjoy the freedom of our manor house, so long as you behave in a way befitting nobility.

TATE: Y-you're not meant to b-be here.

TATE: Our m-mother wouldn't like strangers in the house. She could k-kick your behind.

-----

I love them all, your honor! (Particularly how excited they all clearly are to learn Jaheira is alive, even though Rion tries to cover it with a tough front. <3 <3 <3 )

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hi, I read a few of your posts and I really liked your writing. May I ask a hcs/drabble/one shot of ONE PIECE with Shanks (and Mihawk if it’s possible) who are in a relationship with a woman who have her own crew and the woman flee away in their sleep, leaving them behind, with her crew after years of relationship? A bit angsty 🙊 and they never found her again, seeing her in newspapers or rumors only.

Thank you if you made it and sorry if It doesn’t suit your blog! Have a nice day <3

At first, he though he read the title wrong. But no matter how many times his eyes glided across the black ink, the newspaper headline said the exact same thing: BLACK TOOTH GRINS: A NEW SCOURGE?

There was a picture attached underneath the title. Part of him thought that maybe the familiarity in the woman’s face was just his longing; a product of a mind too lovesick to hold on to sanity. Alas, this time, too, his senses were not deceiving him.

It is your face. You're alive and well as it seems. Looking exactly the same as the day you had left.

The heartache comes back to him tenfold. Not it has ever left but the pain and anger are now suffocating. So many months have passed when he hasn't heard from you as though you've suddenly ceased to exist. No one has heard about you, no one has seen. How can a whole person just vanish? At some point, he told himself that maybe you've met your end. It was entirely possible.

But nothing has prepared him for this. To realize that he was abandoned by the one he loved.

The anguish slowly fades into numbness like a radio falls silent after piercing ears with static. Everything stands still as he recalls the day some part of him had died:

"Greatest swordsman in the world" is a quite hefty title to carry. It is also quite a hefty title to be overshadowed by. Wherever the two of you showed up, you'd always be perceived as a decoration to Mihawk rather than his partner. Like a pearly white Maltese carried by rich ladies in their purses. Having voiced your concerns, Mihawk knew that you feel in some way inferior to him. He just never thought it was that severe.

He was woken up that night, actually. The sky was still black and starry, morning long hours away. You were getting out of bed and your stirring woke him up. But he quickly went back to sleep when you whispered that you were just going to the bathroom. By all means, it was just another night. Like countless others you've spent together. Nothing unusual.

In the morning, everything was gone. All of your belongings had disappeared as though you had never been on his ship in the first place. Like a ghost he's grown to love had simply become bored of haunting him.

Only one thing, however, suggested that you were not a figment of imagination: a laconic note that vaguely explained the situation. In a few words, you told him that you're tired of being seen as an accessory to someone, a pair of gloves that will be out of season when snow thaws. Knowing that you're more than the Maltese in a purse, you ventured into the wide world to become an infamous name of your own.

Throughout many years, every day has he thought of that night and the morning that followed. What if he hadn't fallen asleep? Was he too calloused to notice how much you've been suffering? Was there something he could have done but decided not to for some reason?

The longer he thought about it, the more he came to the same, heart-wrenching conclusion - he was just abandoned in the middle of the night. Whether it was his hurt pride or respect towards your wishes, he's never gone on an escapade to find you.

As years went by and he hadn't heard from you or about you, Mihawk simply assumed that you'd died. It seemed the most probable. Part of him wanted to take the blame: if he had noticed your pain earlier, had he taken your worries seriously, you wouldn't have left and you wouldn't have died. It was his responsibility to protect you, to ensure that his beloved is safe and sound. Alas, he had failed. Quite utterly at that.

He grew bitter and vicious. What good is his swordsmanship if it failed that one time it could have mattered? What good is he if he was too blind and oblivious to ease your burden?

But all of those painful thoughts disappeared today.

Mihawk tears the newspaper and throws it away. He's grown almost used to the weight of bereavement on his shoulders but now he's absolved of it. One shouldn't grieve someone who is still alive. But contrary to his expectations, he doesn't feel better because of that. In fact, he feels a lot worse. Even if your death had been brought by your own choices, it is not your fault. Your death, however, hasn't occurred as of yet, so the time you've spent building infamy was just time you chose to leave him broken and aching.

He mourned you! Turned his grief and misery into a fury that burned entire towns. He became a shadow of the person he used to be. And for what? To learn that he was disposable to you? That his love for you was less important than your pride and ambitions?

Now that you've made it on the front page with an equally hefty title "A New Scourge", perhaps you're a danger big enough to be hunted down by none other but one of the Warlords. Was it not what you wanted? To be truly someone among pirates?

Oh, he will find you. Even if you told him not to look for you. Mihawk will find you and make you take responsibility for the damage you've done - for the man you've irreversibly changed for the worse; the heart you've forced to turn into stone.

Is it revenge or is it justice? No matter. It is right.

If the butterfly effect is true, Shanks, or rather his tendencies, would be the said butterfly that causes a tornado down the line. He's been known as a man with no commitment and certainly not a devout monogamist. It didn't matter that for a few years he's been exactly that - happily wrapped around the finger of one woman. Most of his men "respectfully" disregarded the relationship status as something temporary.

"Shanks thinks he's in love. Like a thousand times before her."

Which was probably why you've gone years being called a variation of "Shanks's girl". Whether they meant it or not, people around you made sure that you know you're disposable. A fling.

But you never were. Gods above! You never were.

Shanks thought it was quite obvious that he didn't consider you a fling. All the jokes and jabs at his previous love life were just that - meaningless jokes among friends. Even when you explicitly told him that they start to make you uncomfortable and that you want to be taken seriously, the pirate captain never quite took you as seriously as he probably should have. "They're just joking".

The jokes stopped one day and, seemingly, so did Shanks's humour altogether. All of your belongings were gone. You were gone. Nowhere to be found, disappeared like fog on a spring morning. The only thing he had from you was a note, hastily scribbled in the corner of a map lying on his desk as though you were too rushed to take your time to write a proper letter.

He's read that note every day for years. Naively hoping that one day he'll somehow be enlightened as to where you've gone. Maybe one of the letters is strangely pointing towards an island? Or maybe the fact that you've written your message in the North-East of the map was a sign? No matter how many asinine guesses he's made, all of them were wrong. You just... disappeared.

Despite asking him not to look for you, Shanks couldn't help himself. Each village he has visited, he would ask about you. Has anyone seen you? Or heard about you? A few times he thought he had seen you in the crowd, only for the woman to turn out to be a stranger vaguely fitting your description. But this investigation, too, proved to be in vain. For better or worse, it seemed as though you had never existed in the first place.

To put things simply, Shanks had given up. If no one across the seas had seen you or heard about you, it seemed the most probable that you'd met your end. Somewhere far away, among unfamiliar waters and surrounded by strangers. Were you in pain? Were you afraid? Did you wish he could have been there? Or maybe you thought-

No. He shouldn't be thinking like that.

Shanks is locked in his cabin. If his crewmates believed he had an alcohol problem after you disappeared, their captain's state right now would be "alcohol catastrophe". He hasn't been sober since he saw the newspaper.

At first, he was excited, yes! You were alive and well! But then the realization set in: you've left in the middle of the night, asked him not to look for you and never once reached out to him. Telling him that you don't love him anymore would have hurt incomparably less.

He's sitting on the floor. His clothes reek but he doesn't care about that. A shaking hand has trouble lifting another bottle of strong alcohol. The front page of the newspaper with your face on it is lying in front of him. He's just blankly staring at it, letting tears fall down his cheeks.

Among the darkness of the room, there's just him, the bottle and the dull, unbearable ache in his chest.

Shanks wishes to find you. To ask what in the Hell you were thinking. Then ask what he can do to have you back with him. But beware, as whatever you demand he will do. Even if it costs him his other hand.

That is, if his liver won't kill him first.

[a-spes]

Hii, I am back with more thoughts about Maria Hill 🙆

It is kinda in the same lines as the one I posted yesterday, and even though it can be read separately, you should really get a look at it :)

The woman is known for being rough with the new recruits, and you are no exception, but if there is something she can't bear is witnessing someone else being rude to her trainee. That is her privilege to roughing up her recruit.

Especially when those people have no reasons to do so because they are definitely not as good at the job as you are.

She knew something was up. She is not an idiot, she has seen the way you were so distant with your teammates and other people from your promotion. Yet, you were too stubborn to talk, keeping everything to yourself, insisting that you were fine despite her attempts to push you to share with her what was wrong. So the woman had to keep an eye from afar, and to figure out by herself what was happening.

It is weird the urge she felt to protect you from everything and everyone. She tried to ignore it, and it made the woman stricter during your training, but no matter how hard she would try to push this feeling away, it won't go.

When she saw you that day, starting a fight in the corridors with some of your teammate, she didn't hesitate before stepping in — "Get out of my view. Now," she said, and you were about to leave with the rest of them, maybe you were hoping that she hadn't even notice that you were here in the first place. "Not you," she added, and you should have know that it was a vain hope.

You have no idea what she is thinking about. Her expression is unreadable, as usual, and you can only imagine the things she is going to yell at you once you have reached her office — Probably how disappointed she is. Yet, you are surprised, because the door she eventually pushs is not her office's but the medbay's one, and nothing bad happened when you stepped in. The explosion you were waiting for never came, the woman didn't yell, she just signed for you to find a place to sit.

The screaming part never came. She just silently took care of the wounds in your face, and her touch was so gentle that it surprised you. She usually doesn't care about hurting you, especially not during training. Somehow, the realization made you cry, because it has been so long since the last time someone has been that gentle with you, and you are just realizing now what you have been missing.

You do not exacly know why, but you are not really getting along with the rest of your team. They keep pushing you away, hating you for stuff you haven't do. Before you could realize it, yourself was the only person you could count on, and you were slowly falling apart. The exhaustion, and the rought training with Commander Hill, made it harder to keep your emotions in check lately.

The woman was almost expecting it, when you started crying in her arms. She knows how rude the first weeks as an agent can be, especially when you don't have a team to help you to get through it. She is surprised that you didn't reach your breaking point earlier. Usually, recruits would snap at her out of her anger during the first few days of their trainings, or they would cry, but you haven't. Not until today.

And because she understands your situation, she didn't say a word. The woman just wrapped her arms around you, craddling you, and whispering soft words in your ear until you calm down. It is safe to say that, since that day, none of your teammates dared to try to annoy you again.

[distinctlywhumpthing]

In League – Hold Him Still

Masterlist

Follows this piece. August has a fever and needs to be held down while the doctor cleans his wound. Painful but necessary caretaking. No one handles it well. @alittlewhump beta read.

Theo stopped at the top of the stairs, favouring the left side of the step to avoid the creak. Shadows of the banister spanned the hallway like Roman columns. Stretching onto the ceiling as though they’d been cast by flame, soot left in their wake. It lent an air of grandeur, as though he might find champions or gladiators reclined after a battle instead of a gaggle of misfits, sloshed and lucky if they made it onto a bed. Door open, closed, or ajar served little indication of the state of what lay beyond. 

There wasn’t a room in the house Theo hadn’t stayed in for some length of time over the five years since they’d had it. He was always the one to trade if there were tensions between roommates, happy to give up a room to himself if someone sick or injured needed it, and was usually the first to share with a new addition to help them settle in. Normally, that would have meant August taking the spare bed in the room at the end of the hall with him but nothing about August’s arrival had been normal. 

He started at the room next to his. Hugh would already be awake. The youngest in their ranks was the lightest sleeper and the only one who never drank as a hard and fast rule. 

“Can you come down?” He whispered, glancing over at Jack to make sure he hadn't disturbed him. Unlikely, given the fact that he smelled like a distillery. 

Hugh nodded, brow furrowing but he didn't pause to ask questions.

Finding a second recruit wasn’t as straightforward. Those on the clock would be sober but with posts all over this side of the city, it would take too long to get word to one of them. 

Theo jumped when Hugh appeared at his side, dressed and ready. And looking all too proud at his ability to sneak up on others. 

“Were you at the pub earlier?” Theo asked, keeping his voice low. “Do you know who else—”

“What going on?” Alfred came out of his room, looking irate at being disturbed even though he was fully awake. “His pacing sounds like a drum line. Did the little spy run off with all the notes from the safe?”

“We need another pair of hands to help with something downstairs.” 

“I’ll do it.” 

“We need someone sober.”

“Haven’t had a drop,” Alfred said, crossing his fingers over his heart in mock seriousness. “One of us real grown-ups—no offense, Hughey—” 

Hugh shrugged, more occupied with what exactly he’d been volunteered for. 

“—Had to stay clear-headed with Wyatt gone off the rails.” 

“Don’t I count?” 

“Thought you’d be catching up on sleep after the docks.” 

“Oh…thanks.” Theo couldn’t help but be impressed, though the reason for it was less than ideal.  

“Yeah, I’m likely to be sainted any day now. So, what are we doing?” 

Downstairs, August lay on the dining table, still dead to the world in his fevered state. Doc was setting out all manner of instruments beside him, bright and sharp. Wyatt’s fists tightened with each addition, his percussive footsteps echoing through the room. 

What with the mantle of responsibility he shouldered, Wyatt was never far when someone in the house was hurt. Be it on a job or a foolish mishap, he took pains to stick around for them to get stitched up. A hand on their shoulder, a flask ready at their side. Grim-faced and tense as though he truly shared in their pain. But every time the dining room was transformed into an operating theatre, one would think he’d never seen blood. 

Alfred crossed his arms in the doorway. “You’re not fucking serious. This is what you pulled us out of bed for?”

Wyatt stilled with his back turned. 

“Take it easy,” Theo warned. To one or both, he wasn’t certain. 

Hugh grimaced from behind Alfred, eyes darting to Theo’s.

“Unless this is to pick up where we left off—”

“Where you left off?” Wyatt grated. “If you hadn’t been so heavy-handed, he might not be this bad off.”

“I still think he got off easy.”

“Excuse me?”

As the battle lines were drawn, Hugh ducked through the doorway, seeking neutral ground beside Theo. Or, rather, just slightly behind him.

“We could have gotten a lot more out of him.” 

Wyatt whirled. “Of course it didn’t occur to you to simply ask. That all of the scars—”  He gestured to the boy in question, prone on the table, looking for all the world to be on his deathbed for how frail he was. “Not to mention the fresh wound bigger than his own hand on his side—might be an indication that he would more than happily flip on Keats.”

“I—well—”

Too slow. “Your impulsivity once again leads to unfavourable consequences. This is becoming a pattern.” 

Alfred was still floundering. This was usually the moment— 

“And you?” Alfred countered. “This isn’t the first time you’ve shown yourself more loyal to some stranger.”

—things got worse. 

Theo held up his hands. “All right, Doc’s—”

“Loyalties?” Wyatt took a step forward, rising to the bait and bringing his voice along with him. “You’re speaking to me of loyalties?” 

Alfred held his ground, matching the volume. “You can’t expect us to blindly follow your lead when you’ve been locked in your room with some stray and we don’t know what the fuck’s going on.” 

“I have done more than enough to earn your trust.”

“And not a damn thing to keep it.”

“Unbelievable. Do you refuse to see the consequences of your actions before you? In what way would this fill me with confidence? All this has shown me is that you lack any sense of discernment.”

“Fuck off,” Alfred yelled. “I was doing what any of us would have done. You’re the one hiding something! Ever since the warehouse, you’ve been different. Are you working for Keats? Is that why you came down to ‘rescue’ his man?” 

Wyatt lunged, shoving Alfred against the wall. “Accuse me of treachery one more time.” 

Alfred swallowed, suddenly more selective of his words though he didn’t concede to the threat of Wyatt’s hands so near his throat by raising his own in defence. “You ask us to trust you but you don’t extend that same trust to us,” he spat.   

Theo took a step forward. “Why don’t we—”

“Fuck off your high horse,” Alfred said at the same time Wyatt growled, “Stay out of this.” 

Theo held up his hands, retreating. Hugh grimaced, looking ready to cut and run. This was absolutely going to make matters worse but fine, let them beat the shit out of each other, see if he cared. 

Alfred fists tightened at his sides. “I think—”

“As entertaining as this is,” Doc interrupted, pausing to look at them flatly, demonstrating just how unamused he found it. “Time is of the essence. Can we begin or will we need to find another set of hands?” 

“There is no one else,” Alfred said, still glaring at Wyatt. “The boys were doing forfeits tonight.” 

Wyatt held his ground one beat longer than necessary before releasing him wordlessly and turning his back to check on August. 

Alfred fumed. 

So that’s how it was going to be. 

“Alright, let’s each of you take hold of him,” Doc instructed. Alfred, the strongest holding his hips. Hugh held his ankles. Wyatt and Theo on either shoulder and wrist. 

“Are… are you s-sure this is necessary?” Hugh asked. “He’s o-out c-cold.” 

In truth, it felt ridiculous, taking such positions around the ghost of a boy on the table, but August came to immediately, “No, no, no!” He twisted easily out of Theo’s underestimated grip. 

“Shit!” Theo narrowly avoided getting bitten trying to catch the boy’s shoulder again. 

Hugh and Alfred scrambled to regain a hold as he fought. August would have fallen off the table completely if Wyatt hadn’t caught him by the waist, keeping him still long enough for Alfred to pin his hips again. 

“Steady lads.” Doc had his trousers almost to his knees which had the benefit of restricting his movements some, though he fought all the more for what ground he lost. 

“Please!” He kicked Hugh squarely in the chest when his ankle was released for the underbreeches to be taken all the way off, sending him staggering backwards. 

But as soon as Doc finally pulled away the fabric, he fell still, eerily so. If his breath wasn’t so audibly fast and ragged, Theo would have wanted to check it was there at all. 

One by one, they released him, watching his expression closely but his eyes remained closed, limbs as limp as before they’d started. Doc covered him with a sheet, folding one side to the middle to reveal the wound. 

Alfred hissed in a breath. “That ain’t pretty.”

Theo made sure not to look. 

Wyatt was as white as the aforementioned sheet, which did not bode well. He turned away, putting one hand against the wall and covering his brow. 

“All right, Hughey?” Theo asked. 

He nodded, expression tight. His gaze was stuck on August’s sleeping face, like he was trying to figure out how someone who looked near death could put up such a fight. 

Doc pushed his rolled sleeves up and ran his thumbs under his braces. He met Theo’s gaze and then glanced at Wyatt, eyebrows lifting. “Let’s give him a minute to rest while I step out for a smoke, then we start.” 

Alfred and Hugh all but jumped to follow him. Hugh didn’t even smoke but Theo understood his desire to escape this room. He was itching for a cigarette himself but Wyatt needed him more.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t as restful a moment as prescribed. 

Every few breaths, August would whimper, tossing his head back and forth. “No more. Please, master. Please, no more.”

And each time, Wyatt would soothe, “Hush, lamb,” and place the boy’s limp hands on the bedsheets that covered him. “Nothing like that’s going to happen.” 

No sooner than August recognised himself to be swathed in the sheets, would he fall out of consciousness again. Only to come round once more, moments later and repeat the whole process. 

“August, lad, just rest.” Wyatt swept the hair off August’s forehead and the boy’s face crumpled, a sob escaping his lips. 

“Please, master,” he whimpered.

Wyatt stopped stroking his temple but the younger boy only sobbed anew at the departure, turning his head to chase the touch. 

“For Christ’s sake,” Wyatt breathed, hand hesitating in the space between them. He curled his fingers into a fist but not before Theo saw them tremble. Wyatt’s red-rimmed eyes flicked up to his and then to the door. He sat up straighter, burying his hands in his pockets.

“He’ll not remember,” Theo said, rounding the table and keeping his voice low enough that the others coming down the hall wouldn’t hear. “You’re doing right by him.” 

Silent tears started to fall steadily down August’s cheeks, his brow still creased in distress.

Theo wondered if Wyatt was going to make it through this. He would have suggested he step out for some air they were out of time. 

Doc instructed them back to their positions. “Let’s get this over with, lads.” 

“Pleasepleaseplease—no-no—” August’s eyes flew open as soon as they laid hands on him again but this time they were more prepared. 

The display of force against someone so vulnerable left a bitterness in Theo’s already-sour stomach. His fingers well overlapped the younger boy’s delicate wrist. 

“It’s imperative he remain still,” Doc reminded, raising his voice over August’s protests. “I don’t want to cause any more damage than has already been done.” 

“This gonna hurt?” Alfred asked, looking to Wyatt. 

But Wyatt only had eyes for August. 

He was sobbing, pleading only growing more pitiful. “No more, master. Please, I beg of you, I can’t—no more—” 

“Ready?” Doc asked. 

As ready as they’d ever be, which was to say not in the least. This was considerably worse than any of the times they’d held down a fellow comrade, drunk to his gills, so Doc could dig out a bullet. 

August howled when Doc’s blade met his wound. He thrashed against their hands with renewed vigour, twisting and pulling, desperate to find a point of escape. There was no question he’d have bruises for how hard he fought but Theo began to fear he’d wind up with worse, feeling the bones of his wrist twisting and grinding in his grip. 

“Fuck fuck fuck—” 

“W-why… why hasn’t he p-passed out yet?” Hugh asked, raising his voice to be heard. 

“He’s fighting it,” Doc said without looking up. 

Alfred snorted. “We’re shit out of luck if it’s as hard as he’s fighting us.” 

“Godfuckingdamnit—”

Doc paused to clean the blade and August stilled, breath ragged. He looked into their faces, one by one, as though he were looking for one he recognised. Wyatt took pains to angle his face away, gaze locked on his fingertips, white where he gripped August’s shoulder to keep him immobilised. 

August’s eyes were still glassy when they locked onto Alfred’s. “Please, please,” he begged breathlessly. “I’ll tell you anything. Just make it stop—” He screamed when Doc started again, head falling back onto the table with a thud, arching his spine and trying to twist away. “Nnngh—Make it stop!” 

“Interesting,” Alfred said, again looking to see what rise he could get out of Wyatt. “What have you got?” 

“I’ll not have you turning a medical procedure into an interrogation,” Doc said flatly. 

Alfred wouldn’t drop it. “If he’s willing to share…” 

“Please, anything you want—” August lifted his head again, gaze settling on Theo this time. “I’ll do anything!” 

“I’m sorry,” Theo told him, beginning to feel as though they’d had a hand in the original injury, torturing him so. It was grotesque. 

“I’ll make it good—Ah! Fuckk—nnnnghh—I can show you such a good time—” 

Hugh made a choked sound in his throat, drawing August’s attention.

“Don’t let them do this—” Tears started running down his face, voice straining as he held back sobs. Hugh looked to Wyatt but he wouldn’t look up. “Please, please, I can’t do this again. I can’t—” August’s words grew incoherent, mangled by cries that sounded as though they might tear his very lungs. He pinched his eyes shut, shaking his head back and forth, fingers clawing at the air with every pass of the blade.

Theo hoped he was reaching his limit, that he might finally lose consciousness, and be saved some suffering. He must ask Wyatt about the chloroform later. 

“The infection is deeper than I thought.” Doc paused again, raising his voice to be heard over August’s sobbing. “It’ll be a bit longer.”

“Please, please, sir.” He’d found Wyatt this time. Had to lift his head and crane it back, bearing his whole throat, to catch his gaze. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, rushing to speak before Doc started again. “Please. I’m yours, sir. I don’t need it. I know I’m yours, sir. I’ll never run! I promise, sir. I swear. Please—”

August slammed his head against the table when the blade found him again, his expression twisting in pain. When he opened his eyes again, they were even less focused, tears running steadily down his temples but he still looked in Wyatt’s direction. 

Wyatt stared right past him, refusing to engage. 

“You promised,” August cried hoarsely. “You can’t even look at me. You lied. You’re just like him.” Alfred had the gall to force a laugh but even that didn’t get a reaction from Wyatt. August sobbed, squeezing his eyes shut as though he couldn’t bear to look at Wyatt anymore either. 

Theo hoped he might slip into unconsciousness now but he lifted his head, cracking it down on the table.

Wyatt closed his eyes. 

August hit his head against the table again.

And again. And again. 

“You’ll need to put a stop to that,” Doc said without looking up. 

“Stop him how?” Theo asked. “If we let go—”

“Now!”

As soon as Theo let go of his shoulder, August twisted against the hold on his wrist, lifting more of his right side off the table and using the momentum to slam his head even harder against the table. For a moment he was still, seeing stars. 

“Jesus Christ, Theo. That’s definitely worse,” Alfred said. 

“Oh, piss off,” Theo snapped, pinning August’s shoulder again while he was still dazed but it was only seconds before August was beating his head against the table again. “Doc, maybe if you give him a break—”

“I’m nearly finished. Just manage it.” 

“Wyatt, can you give me a hand?” Theo released August’s wrist instead, clapping his free hand over the boy’s forehead but as soon as he did, August reached up to claw his neck and face. 

“Ow! Fuck!” The feral thing managed to draw blood and catch him in the eye. He grabbed August’s wrist again but of course the lad slammed his head into the table again as soon as Theo had let go.

Hugh started shaking his head, eyes flicking between August and Wyatt. 

“Wyatt,” Theo shouted. “Fucking do something! Anything!” 

He was a statue at August’s side. 

“Shit. I think he’s made himself bleed.” Theo leaned over and sure enough, there were splotches on the sheet. “Doc—” 

“For fuck’s sake,” Alfred groaned. “I’ll pin him so you can stop him caving his head in. Hold on—” He hooked his foot around one of the chairs and pulled it up to the table.  

And Theo had thought this couldn’t possibly get worse for August. “You can’t be serious—Hugh, you gotta hang on. We need you with us.” 

Hugh pinched his eyes shut, giving up on any reassurance from Wyatt, his shoulders up to his ears like he wanted to block out the sounds too. 

“Wyatt,” Theo tried one more time. “Please, we need you. Help us.” 

Alfred already had one knee on the table but before he could straddle August’s thighs, Wyatt caught the back of August’s neck. He took hold of the boy’s hand, bringing his arm up across his chest and using it to keep him down. 

“August, look at me. I—” Wyatt cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I know it hurts but we have no choice.” 

“I—I don’t—I don’t believe you,” he managed to gasp, breath thin and quick now that he’d doubled his pain. 

“I know.” His voice was as hollow as his gaze but August was in no position to notice. 

The lad let his eyes fall closed, tears still streaming down his face. Wyatt held him fast and little more than a few whimpers escaped his lips as Doc finished. 

“The worst part is over,” Doc finally said. “I’ll just—”

Wyatt let go of August and walked out. 

“I—sir—” His eyes swam as he tried to look for Wyatt. 

“Unfuckingbelievable,” Alfred grumbled. 

Hugh looked even more cross than Alfred. 

“Just…hang on—” Theo gingerly released August and, once certain he was staying still, hurried after Wyatt. 

It had just begun snowing outside. A dusting of white covered the messy streets, blurring all of the roughness of the city and leaving a clean slate to glow under the street lights. 

“Wyatt!” Theo called to stop him before he disappeared into the flurry. 

He paused but didn’t turn. 

“You can’t leave, not now. Not after that.” 

Nothing. 

Theo curled his fingers into fists. “Are you so blinded by whatever hold August has on you that you can't see what's going on?” He was yelling but still Wyatt wouldn’t turn. “We’ll be lucky if we see Hugh inside a fortnight and Alfred’s ready to—”

“Go back.” Not a request, a command. 

Theo’s blood boiled. 

Wyatt pulled his collar up and started walking but paused again. “For me,” he added, half turning toward Theo for a moment. 

“This isn’t how we do things,” Theo called back but he was just shouting into the wind. 

Masterlist

@whumpy-writings @deluxewhump @no-whump-on-main @maracujatangerine @painsandconfusion

@wolfeyedwitch @briars7 @gala1981 @redwingedwhump @whumpflash

@poeticagony-blog @annablogsposts @fleur-alise @melancholy-in-the-morning @crystalquartzwhump

@magziemakeswhatever @neverthelass @cakeinthevoid @inkstainsonmyhands12 @hold-him-down was already taken lol

[luniidae]

  ~Of Gold and Blood~

~ A New Home ~

Chapter II

Note: Hi everyone! It's been an eternity since I posted anything about this fic. Unfortunately, this is not the next chapter, but chapter 2 update !

I'm never entirely satisfied with what I write, but I hope you'll appreciate this new version nonetheless ✨

You can read it on AO3

The next days, Korrilla returned to Neverwinter to keep an eye on the strange girl she had met and who seemed to have, for some obscure reason, caught her master's attention. 

She didn't really understand the point of watching her, but she certainly wasn't going to argue with his orders anyway.

She had no trouble finding her young target's house, given its proximity to the tavern she had visited the other night. She recognized the roof from which her little spy had observed her, but there was no door or other window from this side of the street.

The warlock therefore went around taking a few alleys until a building which looked like any other: nothing very elaborate but not a dump either, it was actually quite pretty. That said, the dwarf had the strange feeling that something was off with this place. She kept a good distance away when a woman came out. The latter was rather well dressed but the way she held herself seemed odd. Despite her neat appearance, her walk was almost awkward, as if her outfit was inconvenient.

Korrilla waited until she was far enough away, then she approached the flowered windows. 

To her great astonishment, she couldn't see anything through it. Indeed, a mountain of dust covered all of the windows from the inside and it was almost impossible for her to see anything. The street wasn't very busy at that hour, but she decided not to linger so she wouldn't bring attention. She kept an eye on the house, monitoring the possible comings and goings of its inhabitants, but apart from the woman she had seen earlier, no one else left the place, and no one returned either. It seemed almost abandoned....

Korrilla felt like she was wasting her time, she was supposed to be gathering information about the supposed "Dracanist", but she had learned nothing new since she was here. However, she couldn't afford to return to the House of Hope empty-handed.

 So with a hint of annoyance, the young woman decided to use a metamorphosis spell to change herself into an animal small enough to pass through a gap. Usually, she would have opened a portal, or teleported herself, but she didn't know what was inside and she had to remain discreet anyway.

          And the dwarf changed into... A mouse. Luckily, she had no trouble finding an entrance, and once inside the house, she was able to see that everything from the outside was clearly nothing but a facade.

The place was dilapidated, unsanitary, it felt like a slum. The walls were decrepit, the floor was littered with all kinds of debris and most of the furniture looked like it was about to collapse under a shroud of dust and dirt. It made her wonder how the hostess had managed to keep her clothes this impeccable. Speaking of the "lady", she saw a portrait of her and a man on one of the walls. Their smile making them look creepier than they already were.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps coming from the stairs and Korrilla quickly hid herself under the table. It was a child, a blond elf, probably 10. His clothes were dirty and he looked thin, but he wasn't the person she was looking for. Maybe it wasn't the good house, after all.

As unfortunate as it seemed, she was so focused on the boy that she didn't notice the mousetrap she was walking on. When she realized the extend of her mistake, it was too late. She managed to avoid being smashed by the mechanism, but her tail got caught nonetheless and she cursed herself for being so stupid. But in the other hand, she hadn't imagine finding a mousetrap in a place so neglected... The sound caught the kid's attention and he approached, kneeling down to take a look under the table.

A mischievous smile appeared on his dusty yet angelic face, and he took the trap with the mouse hanging from it. He looked amused and revulsed at the same time.

" Ugh, disgusting... Haha, I never thought I'd catch one ", he said to himself.

He poked the tiny creature with his fingertips to see her reaction, without knowing he was bothering a warlock in disguise. The latter, clearly annoyed by the situation, was about to take her usual form back and kick his ass to teach him a lesson. 

But when he seemed about to smash her on the ground, he was suddenly pushed to the side, dropping the trap. He then fell on the floor, coughing because of the dust, swearing because of the fall... He stared at the person who dares to push him, a hint of anger in his eyes.

"What's yer problem, goat ?! I'll show ya ! "

The elf was talking to a horned girl, a bit smaller than him. He stood up quickly on his feet and threw himself at her, his face as red as a tomato.

The person who "saved" her was the one she was looking for. The two kids were fighting but the elf was a bit stronger and fierce, obviously hurt in his ego. The sound of their argument caught the attention of three others. Three children, hidden in the stairs, two humans and another elf. They were probably between 3 and 6 years old. 

" WHO D'YOU THINK YOU ARE ! STAY IN YER PLACE ! " he shouted at her while beating her face. She was trying to fight back but at some point, she covered herself with her forearms instead.

Once he was done with her, he left her on the floor, threatening her. 

"Don't ye dare touch me again with yer dirty hands, freak "

The ones hidden in the stairs were chuckling, apparently amused by the situation.

" You served her right! ", said one of them.

The room quickly felt silent as the kids disappeared in the shadows of the house. Korrilla, who was still stuck to the trap, was looking at the girl who was laying down before her. The latter slowly got up, leaning on her elbows. She seemed looking for something, then she stopped when her eyes locked on the mouse. She approached her, a few bruises on her face and a bit of blood dropping from her nose. 

Korrilla could notice once again that her blood looked "magic", because of this strange reddish glow which was emanating from it.

" It's ok ", she whispered to the tiny creature. She removed her tail from the trap delicately and took the mouse in her hands. 

" You can stay with me if you want ", she added in a low voice. 

The warlock didn't expect to have to keep this shape any longer, but she considered her words for a second. It would be easier for her to watch the girl if she stayed with her after all... So she climbed on her forearm, reached her shoulder and hide in her hair, making her giggle.

              And so she spent the rest of the day with her, gripping to her, observing her. She could notice how lonely she was, since she was the only one of her kind and the other children avoided or mocked her because of that. They mocked her horns, her eyes, or called her a demon because they all have noticed how quick she would recover from her injuries. And the dwarf noted it too. 

The bruises she got from her fight with the elf boy had completely disappeared, just like nothing ever happened.

            From time to time, Korrilla thought of the moment she'll come back to the House of Hope. She was looking forward to reach her bedroom, take a bath and have a big drink of wine or anything which could make her forget her time as a tiny defenseless creature. But the time when she could finally reveal herself would come soon. 

When the sun went down and the sounds from the tavern could be heard, the horned creature headed to her bedroom. 

" I'm goin' to show you somethin' funny ", she said with a smile, " There's a place behind, with lots of people. I like watchin' them at night", she looked excited about it, " They drink, they laugh. They even sing and dance strangely sometimes "

But her enthusiasm vanished when she struggled to open the door of her room. She looked through the lock and saw something stuck inside, something she couldn't remove despite her attempts. She heard someone chuckle from the end of the corridor and saw the elf boy... He stood in the crack of his bedroom's door, grinning.

" Good night, goat, greet mum and dad for me ", he said before closing the door. The warlock mouse could feel the little girl's heart racing all of the sudden. She remained silent for a few seconds.

" ... Neve'mind ", she finally said, trying to keep her calm, " I have an idea ".

She went back downstairs, decided to open the main door to reach her bedroom from the outside, since her window was never really locked. She climbed on a chair to reach a pot on a furniture, looking for something inside. But her face quickly changed. 

" The key... ", she paused for a few seconds, "Someone took it... But it's alright... ", she murmured to herself.

The dwarf understood that she couldn't actually go out as she had planned to, and it was apparently a problem. She could feel that something was wrong, her face was calm but her eyes were sad and worried. Since they were alone, Korrilla thought it could be the right moment to take back her usual form, she was tired of being a rodent anyway. 

She jumped from her shoulder to the table nearby. The little girl quickly got off the chair, thinking the mouse fell down, but her eyes widened in an expression close to the fear when she saw the tiny animal turned herself into a humanoid being.

But surprisigly, it wasn't the warlock's transformation that worried her, but her simple presence.

" You.... You're not supposed to be here! ", she whispered, trying not to raise her voice despite her worry.

Korrilla was a bit taken aback with the girl's reaction, but she kept her composure and spoke quietly.

" I mean you no harm, I... "

" You must leave! ", interrupted the child who was losing her nerves. She didn't seem to be afraid of the warlock herself, but rather of what awaited her if it became known that she had let in a stranger. 

" I can help you ", the dwarf insisted, but the horned creature shook her head nervously. 

" You - " , she didn't finish her sentence. Her face froze as she heard footsteps getting closer from the street. She recognized this sound, she knew too well who it belonged to. Korrilla quickly transformed into a mouse again in order to hide and see what would happen next. Lurking in the shadows, she observed the scene, listening closely as the sound of a key in a lock could be heard, and the door opened. 

She recognized the person who entered: it was the woman she saw this morning, but she wasn't alone. A man, the same as the one of the portrait she saw earlier, was following her, his face stern and reddish, but he seemed even more upset when he saw the child in the middle of the living room. 

" What are ye doin' 'ere, freak ", he grumbled. He looked menacing, and so did the woman. 

" Go back to yer damn room, right fuckin' now ", she shouted at her.

The little girl was standing before them, her knees slightly shaking, "playing" with her fingers in a vain attempt to ease her nervousness.

" I... I cant, they blocked th- ", but she couldn't say more. The man slapped her face so hard she fell on the floor and Korrilla thought, for a moment, that the young girl had been knocked out, but she moved weakly.

" Don't answer back ! ", he yelled at her. 

She was holding her painful cheek, turning slowly her head so she could look up at him, a few silent tears rolling along her face.

But the bastard thought it was a defiance stare and got even more mad at her. He grabbed her neck, his fingers pressing her throat as she was now standing on tiptoes, trying to catch her breath and holding his big hand, desperately trying to make him ease his grip. Korrilla was still watching and her heart skipped a beat when she saw this huge guy attacking the fragile being. 

" He's going to kill her... ", she thought, a thousand scenarios racing through her mind. 

She wasn't sure it would be a good idea to take the girl with her to the House of Hope, since Raphael only wanted more information about her but nothing more. But she couldn't just... Leave ? 

In a fraction of a second, memories came back to her mind. The memories of her own past, her previous master... He was just like him, brutal, violent, threatening. Korrilla remembered how she felt when once, he was so angry that she thought he would eventually kill her and her sister. That was the night she met Raphael for the first time... 

The dwarf was suddenly brought back to reality when she heard the man shouted something.

" I dunno why we keep ya anyway, you piece of shit. Always disobeying, sneaking outside.. They said you would bring us a lot of money but you're nothin' but one more mouth to feed "

"They" ? Who "they" ? Korrilla wondered... But she didn't have any more time to think, she needed to act quickly. 

So she suddenly turned into her original form again, ready to strike. The imposent couple jumped, letting out a scream of surprise. Korrilla was standing there, menacing, with a flame in the palm of her hand.

" Get away from her ", she commanded sharply.

" Who the hell are ya ?! ", the man shouted, still holding the child.

" Get rid of her ! " yelled the woman at him.

But the dwarf had no patience for this now. She had spent the entire day as a mouse, in this miserable and dirty place, and clearly, she had enough of this. She threw a small fire ball at the man, precisely on his forearm so the young girl could break free from his grip. He screamed in pain, holding his injured arm as he took a step back.

" You bitch ! "

Korrilla put the horned girl behind her.

" This one is coming with me ", she said while an orange portal opened in their back.

" B-But you can't.. ! "

The woman stared at the couple, her gaze darkened as she put an index on her mouth.

" Sssh.... "

Then she turned on her heels to go through the portal, taking the girl with her. 

         Korrilla had no trouble bringing the young girl to the House of Hope. She's been living in unenviable conditions, and she needed nothing more than the promise of a new life to convince her to follow the dwarf.

When she saw the place for the first time, her eyes shone with admiration, because she couldn't imagine that there could be a more beautiful place in the world. Everything was luxury and excess, and the little girl didn't fail to notice the impressive amount of food which was on a large table. She felt her stomach growl at the mere sight of it. But her attention was quickly diverted when she had to face the master of the House: Raphael.

            The latter was in his library, sitting in a fancy chair, reading a book in front of a huge fireplace where a comforting fire burned. He looked up when he heard Korrilla's footsteps, and a surprised look appeared on his usually serious face. But he kept his composure as she approached with the young girl. 

He closed his book, put it on a pedestal table and stood up from his chair, taking a few steps forward. 

" What - ", he interrupted himself when he saw his warlock covered in dust and raised an eyebrow, " ... No matter "

He took a look at the tiny figure before him, his arms crossed, his chin resting on one of his fists.

" Korrilla, explain yourself... "

" It is a long story ", admitted Korrilla who was too tired to elaborate, " But I had no other choice but to bring her here ", she paused for a second or two, then added quickly, " At least, you can check if she really is what you think "

The devil's eyes slightly widened. That was her ? She looked so fragile, so vulnerable... The Cambion didn't expect her to be in such a bad condition.  

" Are you sure, Korrilla...? ", he asked, not convinced by the child. 

The dwarf nodded and did her best to hide her annoyance. She hadn't spent the entire day as a mouse to be doubted, she thought. 

" There is no mistake. Today was very... Instructive, I would say ", she answered, " Shinning blood, fast recovery... She looks like a miserable Tiefling but I can assure you that she's definitely more than that "

Raphael considered her words and leaned towards her to examine her better. She indeed looked like a Tiefling, but there were slight differences. Her horns were thinner, for example, and as the warlock told him the other day, she had no tail and none of those characteristic sharp traits at some places.

When their eyes met, the child didn't look away, fascinated by this stranger who had something both reassuring and threatening. That was also the first time she saw a devil and she couldn't help but stare at his wings.

" You don't look afraid of me, aren't you ? ", he finally said.

She looked at him again but didn't answer, not afraid but impressed nonetheless.

Raphael had the time to read more about the Dracanist people while he was alone, and he wanted to check something. He gently grabbed one of her horns between his thumb and index, checking its consistency. He could feel a discreet kind of vibration emanating from it, almost like a silent purr. There was some magic in it, he thought.

His face was less severe, but he needed another proof... This vibration thing wasn't common but it wasn't enough for him.

" Make her bleed ", the devil said.

Korrilla looked a bit surprised, she wasn't expecting him to ask such a thing now, even if it seemed logical.

" Just a scratch ", he added nonchalantly, noticing her sudden reluctance, " Needless to make a mess of her "

The woman approached her who was staring at her with an apprehensive look, but she remained perfectly still.

" It's going to be ok ", she whispered, taking her wrist in her hand. 

Raphael raised his eyes to heaven in her back, his arms crossed, he wasn't a very patient man sometimes. 

The warlock held the little girl's hand opened and pulled out a penknife from her pocket. The child watched her puting the blade on her palm without moving or saying anything, as if she was absent.

" Make it quick ", insisted the Cambion.

The dwarf took a breath and in one motion, she cut into the delicate flesh. 

The horned creature groaned in pain, her fingers twitching, but she didn't try to remove her hand. A few drops of blood fell on the floor, but the rest was like floating. Her eyes changed too, they were still red but... Different, like two scarlet lights in the dark, and her pupils were completely gone. It lasted until the bleeding stop.

" My my... ", Raphael said, suddenly delighted by what he was observing, " Now, that is interesting "

He put a knee down to take a closer look, grabbing her tiny hand and brushing his thumb over the fresh wound, making it sparkle and making her slightly tremble. The child frowned but did her best to hide her discomfort. Also, he could see the wound starting to close itself slowly already. 

The Devil looked at her again.

“ What is your name, little mouse? ”

She hesitated for a few seconds, intimidated.

" .... L... Luvia.. ", she replied in her small voice.

" That's quite a name. Well Luvia, welcome to the House of Hope "

             Then he snapped his fingers, and the child's rags changed into a fancy dress, with a dark blue tiny doublet with long red sleeves, decorated with golden details, reminiscent of Raphael's outfit. Her hair was clean, and her face was clear. It was as if she had taken a bath without realizing it.

                         “That’s better.”

To be continued...

Bonus: Chapter 2 first version

[noctusfury]

Is There a Dragon Flyer "Elite"? (RTTE Headcanon/Theory)

Hello, everyone! Welcome to another HTTYD post! Sorry for the hiatus, but I'm back with another article of lore on the Dragon Flyers. Please enjoy!

This article is a continuation of my previous post on this topic (here) about dragonskin uses. And this will start my other articles about Hierarchy and Ranks.

Today's topic will discuss if these skins provide an established hierarchy of elitism in these Flyers (and Hunters) — particularly the Malevolent Twelve, a squadron of Flyers personally led and taught by Krogan who defeated the Dragon Riders in Season 5's episodes "Dawn of Destruction" and "Wings of War".

This is probably just me, but I have a headcanon that there's an elite among the Dragon Flyers under Krogan's command. Of course, naturally, there'll always be an elite group — "veterans," in other words — in every organization or unit. Doesn't matter if it's a small unit, a military or business organization, or anything else. The same with the Dragon Hunters and the Dragon Flyers.

In fact, Viggo even talked to Ryker about moving the "elite guard" (of Hunters or more possibly the Grimborn Family's personal guards) to prepare for the Riders' attack on their secret base in Season 4's episode "Twintuition".

But back to the Flyers. I've noticed something very interesting. As you know from both the picture earlier above (the top photo), and down below, you'll see that the only Flyers that are often seen with Krogan are these guys. Particularly this guy below that's standing next to Krogan in Season 6's episode "Chain of Command".

Of course, since this is DreamWorks Dragons, and since there isn't any rhyme or reason when it comes to the minion character design, I may be just imagining things and that them being near Krogan is just a coincidence.

However, as I've stated in my previous article, when it comes to the Flyers with the Zippleback skins and the gold dragonskins, respectively, they look to be more seasoned and ruthless compared to the Flyers with the poorly tanned Nightmare skins (or whatever those skins are), who often look nervous or act like they just graduated from Dragon Flyer Cadet Academy. 😂

In the Season 6 episode "Darkest Night", one of Stoick's main attackers is this guy in a gold-dragon-skin outfit, and also the Flyer with a similar outfit but different dragon (compare to the Flyer above) who tag-team to grievously wound Stoick.

(You'll find him again in later photos)

It's possible that these two were part of the "Deadly Dozen" from Dawn of Destruction and Wings of War, since it's likely that Krogan or Johann would've sent some of their best Flyers to take out an important figure, especially since Johann would've known about Stoick's legendary martial prowess and would've most likely not wanted to take any chances. Taking out Stoick would've stalled Berk's capability to continue their fight against the Hunters.

in "Dawn of Destruction", this Gold-skin Flyer was able keep up with Astrid and was able to hit her if it hadn't been for Hiccup's trap.

And let us not forget the infamous Mr. "Murderous Pile of Yak Dung", the Gold-skin Flyer that the Gang captured and interrogated in the Season 6 episode "Guardians of Vanaheim". Even while held captive, "Yak-dung" not only tries to recruit the Twins and use them to help him escape, but takes his chance to break free and steal the Dragon Eye Lens that Fishlegs and the Twins were turning Osvald's hut upside-down and inside-out to find, before leaving to escape the island. That is, if he hadn't fatally run into a pack of very hungry Grim Gnashers. RIP. His sacrifice will be remembered. 💀

"Krogan's Best"

In the Season 5 episode "Dawn of Destruction", we are met with a squadron of 12 Flyers who commence a surprise early-morning raid on the Dragon Riders' main base and quickly neutralize the Riders and forcing them to make a tactical retreat.

These Flyers are well-trained, well-armed, and well-coordinated, able to work together to out-maneuver the Riders and corner them. It's obvious that Krogan trained them in air-to-air combat for this very purpose.

In this very same episode, Ruffnut and Tuffnut even commented after nearly getting roasted by a passing Flyer protecting his wingman's six:

|| Tuffnut: Hey, not for nothing, but these guys are pretty good! || || Ruffnut: They're are kicking our butts! ||

And Snotlout even warns Hiccup that:

|| Those Flyers are all over the place and well-trained. ||

In "Wings of War, Part 1", after getting harassed and pursued by those Flyers from Caldera Cay (DOTW's home), Snotlout and Tuffnut say this about the Flyers:

|| Snotlout: Whoa! Oh, man, those guys are good! || || Tuffnut: I'd like to train with their trainer. ||

In the same episode, talking about that particular team of Flyers — whom I'd like to call "Krogan's Disciples" and "The Malevolent Twelve" or "The Deadly Dozen" — that were chasing the Gang from Dragon's Edge, Krogan himself told Viggo:

||"Those are 12 of my most fearless and gifted warriors. I doubt they'll have much of an issue."||

The Flyers which made up those 12 elites are those with Zippleback and the gold-scaled dragonskins. So it's very much possible that these skins are only given to elites, of a sort.

Furthermore, most of the Flyers I saw in those shots had Nightmare dragonskin skirts (kilts? lol). The Flyers with the gold-scaled dragonskin shirts seem to have vambraces made of Gronkle dragonskin, based on the coloring. Don't quote me on that, since I could be wrong. Since these dragons are hard to kill, that would definitely make them skilled dragon slayers.

Also, speaking of which, there was at least ONE Flyer amongst the "Deadly Dozen," wearing Nightmare(?) skins and a Nadder wing skirt, and flying a green Singetail. You can find him if you squint in "Wings of War, Part 1".

I've edited the shots to make them more easier to see, but please forgive me for the blurry close-up shots. Nothing I can do to prevent that unless somebody has a better photo editing software than I do (I use Canva).

You see him again, here, with the others when they hit the fog bank, which covers the length of the Inner Isles.

(That alone makes me wanna do an article that goes in depth into the reason the Inner Isles in Berk seem to have a different climate from the rest of the archipelago.)

Here's a clearer shot from "Chain of Command", in S6. Considering that he's wearing the same garb and riding the same colored Singetail, he could be the same guy. However, with DreamWorks Dragons being DreamWorks Dragons, who enjoy making clones of the minions, we can only guess. 🤷‍♂️

Not gonna lie, though: that's a really nice getup. 👀

Flyer Leader: Krogan's Right-Hand!

In several episodes, but most memorably in "Family Matters," one notable Flyer stands out from the others: the Flyer Leader.

As far as elites go, he's probably as far up as one can go outside of Krogan's position as Headmaster of the "Flyer Warthunder". He's his right-hand man. His leftenant/lieutenant. His chief subordinate.

Sadly, we don't know anything about his past or about his history with Krogan and the Flyers. 😔 (I should just go and write a fanfic and create my own lore for the Flyer Leader at this point. 🤩) However, at some point, after passing his training as a Flyer, I assume he became a direct disciple under Krogan in the same way Krogan was under Drago, and he was competent enough to be entrusted with various administrative and martial tasks and to lead warthunders out for certain missions whenever Krogan either wasn't available or couldn't be bothered to do it himself.

As seen in every episode he's been in, the Flyer Leader is shown to be a capable and reliable man to whom Krogan can leave things without much thought. This is amazing considering Krogan isn't the type who shares power with anyone but himself — as evidenced by his treatment towards Viggo and Johann. Though it probably helps that, so far as we know, the Flyer Leader isn't interested in more power and authority and is content being the Chief Lieutenant. (Though it would be pretty interesting if he is capable due to his ambition to aim higher and eventually replace Krogan as Chief of the Flyers.)

Anyway, the Flyer Leader is, aside from Krogan, the head honcho of the Flyers, and, as such, has much field command whenever Krogan's not around. He's Krogan's representative, almost (if Krogan was interested in allowing that).

The fact that Krogan was confident enough to entrust the all-important task of protecting the Singetail Rookery from any intruders once again proves, in my opinion, how adept the Flyer Leader is and how much Krogan trusts him enough to leave this vital facility to him.

And he's not stupid. Even when the Riders were able to free the Singetails captured in Deathsong amber, the Singetails, in order to protect the eggs, didn't leave as expected, unexpectedly giving the Flyer Leader extra pieces to drive the Riders into a corner. And instead of attacking them, knowing that doing so in cramped quarters and risking attacks from the Singetails due to the rookery being in the cave labyrinth, he instead orders word to be sent to Krogan about the incident and to focus everything he has onto the cave entrance and pin the Riders there until help arrives.

Little did he know that the Riders (thanks to Fishlegs impromptu problem solving) did something completely unexpected and did something that no-one could've thought that they would dare to do: lure a Cavern Crasher — an egg-eating dragon — into the Singetail Rookery and cause a disturbance that would cause a panic, allowing them to escape.

Honestly, if they hadn't done that, I think he would've been able to either capture them or kill them. The Riders themselves, before Fishlegs came with his crazy plan, were beginning to doubt they'd be able to break out before reinforcements arrived.

He is sadly left behind in a cocoon of amber. How tragic. 😔🙏🏻😂

I kinda find it ironic how he lost because of plot armor. I mean, when you watch the episode, you notice that he was given everything he needed to make sure that the Rookery stayed in their hands: About 100 or so Hunter grunts to do the patrols, guard-duty, and menial tasks such as taking care of the dragons; a squadron of Dragon Flyers, assumedly all elites from his own squad (so probably between 4-8 Flyers, certainly no more than 12); no more than 5 or so catapults and ballistae; presumedly several trap devices like net ballistae or whatever; and I'm assuming he has a reserve force of men at hand to rotate shifts and replace any troops that are injured, killed, or absent. So around 100-200 men, give or take a hundred. This is a LARGE GROUP to be commanding and organizing.

I don't care what the episode showed, you'd need that much personnel, if not more, just to do patrols, manage the dragons, man the catapults and traps, etc, etc, AND have a reserve to use to rotate shifts — this is an important base, after all! It's a BIG JOB!

That being said, I could be overestimating the numbers here a bit based on my assumption that they'd need that much personnel to deal with the Riders AND any Singetails they capture and guarding the two Deathsongs and Singetail eggs as well. With that being the case, I will minus this and assume that he has, at minimum, no less than 100 men, split into companies of 50 men so that they can rotate around the clock.

Regardless of the actual numbers, the fact that he was given a lot of resources, and still lost due to an unexpected wild card the Riders played on him is just bad luck.

Personally, I don't think that Krogan would let him live for having failed his expectations and mission so thoroughly. They basically lost their source of Singetails and the island is now useless and can't be used further.

However, that being said, perhaps after hearing the explanation, and not wanting to lose a valuable fighter, he could've just let him live but demoted him, since after this, we no longer see him again, and Krogan takes over direct command in the finale episode.

Or heck, maybe the Flyer Leader deserted, knowing what his fate would be, and didn't want to be there for Krogan to find.

I'm considering the possibility that losing his Singetail Rookery didn't waylay Krogan that much, since he had a bunch of Flyers scout out and attack the Sentinals and the Riders for the next two episodes. And in the final two, it appears that Krogan came with a force no greater than 50 Flyers, including himself. I don't know if he already had this force gathered up some time before "Family Matters," or if he had another Rookery(ies) besides the one handled by the Flyer Leader.

If that's the case, then it could be likely that Honcho is doing swell but demoted. But since we know that Krogan dislikes failure, much like Drago does and — like master, like apprentice — punishes his failure with DEATH.

For more on the Flyer Leader and his possible fate after "Family Matters", click the link to my old article here.

What's also interesting is that the Flyer Leader is also the one who led that certain "Elite Dozen" team that pursued the Gang in "Dawn of Destruction" and "Wings of War, Parts 1 and 2" as well.

Personally, I love this character, and I personally wish he showed up in more episodes. He was quite the competent minor villain who was able to corner and pressure the Riders more than a few times. (He certainly did a better job than Savage and Vorg did.😤)

Conclusion:

So I conclude this article by stating that I believe that those 12 Flyers — and any other Flyers with the same garb — are elites due to the garb they wear and experience in combat. They're also, presumedly, among the most fanatical and ruthless of Krogan's Flyers (though the same could be said for all of the Flyers, as a whole). Plus, they were the ones who gave the Gang the most trouble with their excellent training, coordination, and teamwork.

What do you guys think? What are your thoughts on this? I'm curious.

Anyway, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this article! See you in the next one!

Long Live the Night!

— Noctus Fury

[cupofteainme]

So many weird choises with the social media plot. It didn't work for me for three reasons.

First: It's stupid

The royal court left Simon and Wille completely alone to deal with the media. The court with a massive PR-team relies on the troubled 16-year-old prince to keep his boyfriend's social media behavior in check. Okay. I guess everyone in the court were busy trying to bring some life into Ludvig while Kristina was too sad and no-one thought to give her pills before episode six 🥲 (good thing that hearing how bad parent she is cured her depression)

I read a theory that leaving Wille to handle Simon's social media was intentional on the court's part to drive a wedge between Wille and Simon. It's a good theory if you believe in the evil monarchy (I guess Lisa does). I didn't see any indication about it in the show though. In episode 3 after Simon posts the First of May photo, Farima tells Wilhelm, "Talk to him. Or we will." This makes me think that it was Wilhelm and Simon in the first place who denied the court to have any contact with Simon. That I can believe at some level.

Simon would want his autonomy, but I don't understand his naivety concerning social media, especially since he recently was a victim of a grave online violation and got unwanted attention because of it. I assumed that he was already laying low in regards to social media after the sex video.

Wille was trying to talk to Simon about not posting with sensitivity and he apologises that Simon must do accomodations because of his Crown Prince status. Why didn't Simon listen at all?

Second: It doesn't fit the narrative

I have a hard time understanding why Simon felt so erased after deleting his social media. It was never established in YR universe that social media meant so much to Simon unlike in the case of Felice, for whom it played a big part in season one. She used it to create a version of herself that she felt other people wanted to see. In YR posting on social media has often been about conveying an image: Felice at the stables despite not wanting to ride, August posing at the gym while suffering from eating disorder. It didn't fit the show's use of social media that an authentic person like Simon would feel so sad about deleting his account.

I got the impression that Simon used little social media. It was implied that it was for example his first song that he posted (he got a comment that was surprised he could sing). So social media hadn't been an outlet where he commonly shared his creativity. Simon seemed to be sorry to delete pictures of people he saw all the time anyway, family and close friends. It's not good storytelling that we didn't see any foreshadowing about Simon's feelings towards social media earlier in the show. 

Third: It breaks my heart

The part that actually makes me cry is that it was established in season one that Wille and Simon truly see each other despite their differences. Wille was the first one in Hillerska to treat Simon friendly and be interested in him and it made Simon feel special and seen. In the same way Simon saw Wilhelm as a person first rather than a prince. Isn't that a big part why we fell in love with their love? Isn't Wille the person that makes Simon feel seen and not strangers in his social media? 😭

There where so many things that created or could have created drama between them; the drugs, August, Micke, their different backgrounds, homophobia, classism. I don't think that Simon posting was a needed storyline in the show.

Sorry to be a complete romantic, but the way Simon looks at Wille from season one—I thought he'd happily toss his phone to the lake to finally be with this boy.

[wendigo-wendigoing-wendigone]

Rating Supernatural

[SPOILER ALERT]

Season 1 Episode 2: Wendigo

- Monster/lore: wendigo

- Angst: finding the missing brother's phone, Winchester bro heart to heart about missing Dad, dead girlfriend, responsibility

- Songs: Hot Blooded, Fly by Night

- Laughs: the M&Ms, 'I taste good', 'you want some white meat, bitch?'

- Extra: the woods, flare gun kill, 'It's a damn near perfect hunter', 'saving people, hunting things, the family business', 'I'm driving'

Getting into it:

(This is a long old rant, my overall rating is at the end of the post.)

Well. Something that means absolutely nothing to anybody except myself I should say is, I hate the second episode in a series 90% of the time. Most of the time in a show I enjoy the pilot and feel like the follower absolutely bombs. I can probably count on one hand the episode 2s I enjoy. 'Wendigo' is one of them. The show had been on in the background for years of my life before I started watching it myself, and I had never seen this one. When I finally sat down to give it a shot, I was not looking forward to this, but man I have to say, this is one of my favourite episodes in this season. I mentioned about the woman in white being something I used in a university project and a wendigo also makes it on that list. It's such an interesting monster I hadn't even heard of before this show, and it's such a goddamn freakazoid how could I not enjoy that? The art department popped off too. This thing is so nightmarish, and the details we hear rather than see really top it off. I'm terrified of mimicry as a concept, ever since watching Bambi 2 as a child (iykyk), and knowing it was once a person for some reason gets to me. It's one of my favourite monsters, and I'm actually glad they didn't overuse this one.

There's a scene where Hayley finds her missing brother's phone at the ruined campsite, she gets really choked up about that in particular. The boys have a heart to heart at the campfire, and you can see Dean's big brother instincts kicking in, more resentment towards John shows up in Sammy and he shows how much he's struggling with the death of Jess.

I'm a big fan of both of these songs, I don't look into the choice to use them so much but they're in there and it gets my head bopping a bit so I think that's a win.

Dean is so sassy in this episode (as in most episodes in the earlier seasons) like the m&ms, 'sweetheart I don't wear shorts' and then without a word he just...gets INTO taunting that beast. Like I said this thing is terrifying so the fact that seasoned hunter Dean Winchester, killing machine denim wrapped nightmare just neener neeners this fucking wretched devil of a guy, is so funny to me. 'You want some white meat, bitch?' Dean please stfu.

Extra stuff: Dean is sassy in this episode, but Sam is angry. He has got a white knuckle grip around that anger stage of grief and honestly, knowing what I do about the rest of this show I am kinda glad. He's the gentler brother for sure, but at times it's good to be reminded that Sam Winchester is dangerous, he's scary, he had a terrible upbringing, raised to be a killer, ruthless and dangerous. He's aggressive in this episode, he's still got the death of his girlfriend fresh in his mind and he's pulled back into the life he swore off for the rest of his life.

We of course get the infamous:

And finally, probably my favourite things about this episode (save the family business line): the flare gun kill. I can't describe how much I enjoy this but I'll try; they're hunters, soldiers, whatever you want to call them, but we can all agree that they are scrappy. Crafty. They're so well trained and skilled in their "work" that finding alternatives to survive is just second nature to them. This is also quite saddening to realise that, yeah there's definitely been times in the past where they've been stuck in bad places, with very little to work with, but they had to think of something quick to survive. This probably even happened when they were kids. And Sam's reaction? Confirms this beyond any doubt for me. He's so... Cheeky here. Like he knows that the wendigo is fucked now.

5/5

[tdicksapphic]

sex with my lover the other night was so fucking good, fuck

it was rough and tender at the same time and i just. fuck!! i came at least 30 times which is a new record for me by far 🥵

it had been something like two weeks before we'd last had sex, thanks to her not feeling well and me having to travel. while traveling i'd sent her some images from what i was getting up to all alone in my hotel room, but she hadn't gotten on tumblr at any point to see them. i'd been waiting for days, feeling like she was edging me by not going to look at them, waiting with bated breath for her to finally see

then earlier the other evening, i mentioned to her i was about to take an edible; i tried to be nonchalant about it, but we both know how insanely horny i get when i'm high, and how my my tdick grows bigger then than any other time and how horny that makes her.

we spend our evening casually, as i gradually start to get high. when i've gotten high enough that blood has started flowing into my tdick for no other reason than how intoxicated i am, i claim i'm going to go watch a show only i like, so i head to our bedroom alone

instead, i download and edit the audio i recorded during my hotel escapades. as i work on it i get to the point where i'm so horny i'm mindlessly rutting into nothing, so i start jerking myself off with one hand. i think i ended up cumming three times just while editing and posting it 😅

...and then one of my sluts dm-ed me on here; you know who you are and what you do to me, fuck. I came at least another four times from our messages plus your audio —

and then suddenly my lover was in the bedroom too; i was so high by that point i hadn't even heard them come in. i honestly don't even remember everything that happened after that, but i know they started talking about how they'd finally seen the gifs i sent, and then listened to the audio i just posted --

and then suddenly she was kissing me hard and talking to me and god i wish i remembered more details beyond how incredibly good it felt. i remember showing her a video i'd also recorded at the hotel

the main thing i remember is that at some point i was begging her to take her boxers off (mine already were) so we could press our dicks together. ...which is a little embarrassing in retrospect because that's not a word she uses for her body but i was so high and fucked out all i could hold in my head was how bad i wanted to frot

so i pulled her boxers down and off her with her help, and straddled her and fuck, the moans we both let out as our dripping wet holes made contact 🫠 then i re-angled myself to push my cock into her clit-- i'll admit it's a pretty awkward angle, my tdick's just too short to reach it easliy, but we figured it out. and fuck, i don't think there's much else that feels as good as that to me.

we thrust and rocked into each other, and kissed and groped and sighed and grunted and enjoyed each other's heat and it was all just so good, just waves of pleasure coursing through us both

at some point we drew to a close with her using a vibe on herself while i continued to rut mindlessly into her thigh, dripping all over it as i just kept on cumming

anyway i definitely broke my orgasm record by a long shot-- i came at least thirty times that night, between touching myself and dm-ing here and then making love to my incredible gorgeous butch

[penny-the-pissed-poltergeist]

RWBY Volume 4 Episode 10: Kuroyuri rewatch thoughts

.And starting with the only character who didn't get a part of their story last episode, Oscar.

.I'm 100% sure the reason leaving doesn't feel awful to Oscar is because the reincarnation curse is already mixing both Oz's and his brain

.Why doesn't Oz have something set up so he can get resources when needs to post reincarnation? Maybe taking out the CCT took something like that out the equation.

.Hazel was really like

>Shows up out of no where

>Helps some random kid by denting a whole ass ticket machine with bare hands

>Gives slightly ominous advice > Refuses to elaborate further > Leaves

.Hazel seemed so cool before learning his stupid ass backstory

.This scene makes me wish he hadn't already been shown under Salem earlier, they should have kept him mysterious

.Kuroyuri itself is creepy and the ambience in it's first scene is great, but already having seen two destroyed villages this season lessens the impact a bit

.Hey look, a bike. Mistral having something that only exists in a modern setting for once.

.Baby Lie is so cute :3

.An and Li Ren are both really interesting even if we get only this flashback. An is the most underrated RWBY MILF who said that?

.One of the swords on the stand Lie goes to is clearly based on the buster sword and I like that.

.The very small child trying to buy saké is inherently very funny.

.I love 2D cakes that have my future logo on them for no reason too, Lie! (shout out to the cat bread)

.Ren and Nora's kid models look fine to me, but these comically evil bully kids looks so off, they didn't have a standard model for slightly older kids and you can tell.

.Adopting baby Nora as my own my little dashie style.

.I realized Li just added one letter to his name for his kids name, and Tai hacked off part of his name for his kid. It's just funny to me.

.I really like the scene between Jaune and Ruby here, god Ruby's been through way too much.

.This is probably the volume were angsty Jaune is at his most tolerable, he's still annoying sometimes but he's not a complete asshole yet.

.Holy shit An dying was a shock.

.I don't have many notes on the rest of the flashback, but how Ren semblance unlocks makes me question if it full on repress emotions alongside masking them. Because Ren goes from crying his eyes out to confident and heroic real fast.

.The main reason I don't have notes is because that scene is just good in a way I have trouble commenting on.

.I know some people who would say the Nuckelavee keeping trophies is a sign a human level Grimm intellect but some octopi are know to collect shells of past food and lots of corvids love their shinies.

.The cave itself is quite chilling but it really makes you wonder how it took this long for Nuckes over here to die.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for "causing a stain on a marriage" and ruining a honeymoon?

Hey everyone! This is a separate AITA issue, but also technically an update idk if that's allowed.

I'm the one who asked AITA for telling my hairdresser the truth.

I (25f) had a friend D (31m). He married an 18f recently. I do want to clarify something I said in the last post because I saw in responses I didn't write it out clearly. I do NOT approve of minors dating adults. I do NOT approve of 18-21 year olds dating people way older then them. If I, a 25 year old, wanted to date someone older with that same age gap, that would be fine. That's what I meant when I said I typically didn't have an issue with age gaps, but I realized I didn't write that well.

Anyways onto the reason I sent this in:

I saw D in person. Him and his...wife... have been married for a bit now. Anyways, I was trying to avoid him. He knew. Because he called me later that day and asked me why.

I calmly told him we weren't friends and I felt weird. He asked me why snd I told him, I felt weird about his wife. I also told him I didn't appreciate him calling me names. He flat out asked me what names, I said the name back, and he said "I would never say that you must have misheard me". He kept getting louder and I know for a FACT I didn't mishear because I clarified "did you just call me ----" and he said YES

So I yelled at him "you're a manipulative asshole and a groomer" to which he went quiet. And then his wife spoke. Apparently I was on speaker the entire time. She said I was jealous and an asshole and hung up on me.

An hour later his mother called me and at least she told me I was on speaker. It was her, D, the wife, the wife's mother and maybe someone else those are the only ones who spoke. They all took turns expressing how hurt they felt and how I was putting a stain on their marriage and how I was ruining their honeymoon. I flat out said they aren't even on their honeymoon rn so that shouldn't matter.

I said, and I quote," You chose to call me. I tried to avoid you. I want nothing to do with you, as far as I'm concerned im done. I won't talk about you, dont talk about me." To which the hairdresser got brought up by D. She didn't name me, but she dropped him. D claimed I swayed her. I said "if your actions swayed her then that was on you". I then was getting yelled at by many and the mom again yelled at me and cursed at me and said Ime calling him a groomer (pls note I hadn't except for the phone call earlier that day) could have complications for him and I shouldn't be "a vindictive jealous bitch".

I replied "im not jealous, if I had wanted him I could have, but that just proves he is one" and hung up.

I didnt realize fully until my sister brought up what happened when I was 16, D had tried to date me. It was a short period and he had flirted with me and would constantly buy me stuff and then guilttrip me for it.

To be quite honest a lot happened between us but I had told him I never wanted to date him. He did hold my first kiss over my head, which I hadn't even wanted to kiss me he just did. To be honest, I never wanted to think about it and so I didn't. Cause from that point on he had always dated women his age or older.

I guess I was groomed too. I'm not even sure, because as some people noted it is a small community. You talk to one person and guaranteed they are related or friends with the person you are talking about. Everyone knows everyone. His mom had always told me that he had only developed a crush on me because of the closeness and I had accepted that. I hadn't seen anything wrong with it when i was 16, but it makes me grossed out now.

I went on a tangent sorry, but the mother has vagueposted about me and people are assuming me. A few coworkers are asking me about the situation and I've not said anything. But apparently D and his wife are fighting now and im being blamed. His entire family is sending me messages and I have these new accounts send me messages, idk if they are real or not. I've deleted most of my social media now, because everyone is telling me I was in the wrong for trying to tear them apart and that they should be a happy newlywed couple and instead I've ruined that.

So AITA?

TLDR: my exfriend (31m) married an 18f. I called him a manipulative asshole and a groomer. His entire family is coming at me now and sending me messages. Genuinely unsure how to feel because part of me feels bad that I hurt the girl, the other half is pissed everyone is defending him and doesn't care.

What are these acronyms?