#I only adopt feral ships

[fgmetanoia]

If they ain't FERAL and absolutely desperate for each other I don't want them

[psycherprince]

ways my emotional support cat has emotionally supported me thus far:

-got the zoomies while I was crying and distracted me by being fucking goofy

-found a bottle of Lexapro that had rolled under my bed (after he knocked it off my nightstand, but he did find it)

-crawled up on my shoulders like a parrot, preventing me from getting any work done (benefit unclear), pic related

-whined like a little baby when I wouldn't let him bite my face (???)

-REFUSES to let me piss without supervision (the bathroom door doesn't close all the way sometimes and he just bonks into it until it opens)

-forces me to get out of bed and bothers me relentlessly when I don't (this one actually is really helpful)

-does this:

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: How to Escape a Kingdom || Silver

You get isekai’d as the heroine in a bad novel. The prince is awful. The villainess is worse. The only thing keeping you going is your gorgeous, tired fiancé, Silver.

Series Masterlist

You prided yourself on being a good friend. A great friend, even. The kind of friend who remembered birthdays, hyped up questionable outfit choices, and provided alibis without asking too many questions. But as you stared at the abomination that was your best friend’s first novel, you began to reconsider your life choices.

The book sat in your lap like a lead weight, its aggressively pastel cover mocking you with every passing second. You had read it. You had survived it. But at what cost?

It had started as a simple enough premise: Silver, Duke of the North, was engaged to the heroine. A heroine so naively pure that if someone told her oxygen was a scam, she’d hold her breath until she passed out. The main villains were the neglected fifth prince and his fiancée, the villainess.

The villainess wanted Silver, but Silver wanted nothing to do with her. The fifth prince wanted the heroine, but the heroine, lacking two functional brain cells to rub together, had no idea what was going on.

And then things went completely off the rails.

Somehow, in a sequence of events that you were still trying to understand, Silver got shipped off to an unwinnable war and promptly died. The villainess mysteriously vanished (???), and then—without explanation—the heroine and the prince got married. The end.

You closed the book with the slow, deliberate movements of someone trying not to hurl it through a window. You inhaled deeply. You exhaled through your nose like a dragon trying not to incinerate a village.

You placed the book on the table.

Then you pressed your forehead against the table and contemplated your existence.

Tomorrow, you had to meet your best friend. You had to look them in the eye and tell them what you thought. You had to lie. Or worse—tell the truth.

You did not want to do this.

You needed divine intervention. A bolt of lightning, a sudden coma, a wormhole opening up beneath your feet.

As you walked to their house the next day, still praying for salvation, the universe finally answered.

Unfortunately, it did so in the form of a feral, airborne raccoon.

You were minding your own business, walking past a trashcan, when—BAM. A raccoon launched itself at you with the force of a caffeinated cryptid. There was no warning. No time to react. Just a blur of fur and the sheer weight of your sins crashing into your face.

Startled, you screamed, stumbled, and in a tragic display of physics and poor life choices, tumbled backwards—directly into the trashcan.

The lid snapped shut.

You flailed. You kicked. You thought, Wow, this is really happening, huh?

Then, to add insult to injury, the trashcan began to roll.

With you inside it.

You careened down the street, a human burrito of garbage and regret, before hitting a curb at just the right angle to be yeeted violently into the air.

There was a moment—just a moment—where time slowed, and you thought, Well. At least I don’t have to tell them anymore.

You woke up with that distinct, gnawing feeling that something was off.

It wasn’t the usual I forgot to send an email kind of off. No, this was the I am in the wrong dimension kind of off.

First of all, the bed was too big. Not just luxurious hotel big, but dear God, am I a Victorian orphan who got adopted by a morally gray billionaire? big.

Second, the air smelled clean. Not the comforting, familiar scent of your slightly questionable apartment, where the air carried the faint traces of instant ramen and the existential despair of adulthood.

Third—why was there noise?

You lived alone. The only other living creature that occasionally graced your presence was that one cockroach you had an unspoken truce with. So unless Mr. Roach had recently acquired sentience and thrown himself a rager, someone else was here.

Panic kicked in. You bolted upright, turned your head—this was absolutely not your home.

The walls were pristine. The curtains looked expensive. There was a vanity table. The entire place screamed old money, like the kind of place where people casually owned oil paintings of their ancestors who may or may not have committed tax fraud.

You shot out of bed so fast you nearly concussed yourself on the nearest piece of furniture. Your feet hit the floor. You sprinted to the mirror, skidded to a stop, and—

Oh.

Oh no.

Staring back at you was a person. A person you knew. A person whose entire personality consisted of:

Being impossibly, devastatingly naïve.

Trusting people so fast she’d probably accept a drink labeled 'Not Poison' because "surely no one would lie about that."

Having the observational skills of a decorative cactus.

You were the heroine.

A low, horrified whimper escaped your throat. You sank to the floor, trembling hands pressing into your face.

This was a nightmare. A cruel joke. A divine punishment for every time you had talked smack about the heroine’s IQ in your past life.

The girl who had the critical thinking skills of a potato. The girl whose brain you had long suspected was running exclusively on the Baby Shark song on loop.

And now you were her.

You exhaled shakily, pressing your forehead against the cool floor.

You had survived death. You had defied the natural order.

And for what?

To be reincarnated as a human goldfish with no object permanence?

You were going to die.

Again.

Before you could shake your fist at the heavens and demand an explanation for your untimely demise (courtesy of an overly aggressive raccoon and an unfortunately placed trash can), you needed to do what all great strategists did when thrown into an unwinnable situation: panic internally while pretending you had a plan.

You knew this story. You knew its plot holes were deeper than a budget dungeon crawl, and its character motivations made less sense than a pigeon with a degree in economics. But you had an advantage—foreknowledge. And by the gods, you were going to use it.

The first step? Establishing yourself as Not an Idiot™.

The second step? Ensuring you did not, under any circumstances, end up falling for the fifth prince’s brand of bootleg romantic villainy.

The third step? Avoiding an untimely death like the last protagonist (RIP Silver, Duke of the North, gone but never forgotten).

With this sacred checklist in mind, you marched outside, determined to assert control over your fate—

—only to be immediately ambushed by a squadron of highly trained maids who descended upon you like a swarm of fabric-wielding locusts.

You barely had time to register their presence before you were stripped, perfumed, corseted, and shoved into an outfit so elaborate that it probably required its own construction permit. There were lace trimmings, unnecessary bows, and a pair of shoes so polished you could see your rapidly growing sense of existential dread reflected in them.

You were officially trapped in Victorian Dress-Up Hell.

And then, as if things couldn’t get worse, you were dragged straight to breakfast with your fiancé.

Now, normally, this would be the part where you started screaming. But then you remembered who your fiancé was.

Silver. Duke of the North. The only well-written character in the entire dumpster fire of a novel. A man of honor, competence, and stunning good looks.

Stunning good looks?

That was putting it lightly.

The moment you walked into the dining room, you had to physically stop yourself from gasping like some sort of Victorian maiden experiencing her first bout of hysteria.

Because dear gods above and below—how was he even prettier than his book illustration?!

This was unfair. Illegal. You wanted to file a formal complaint to whatever divine entity was responsible for sculpting this man.

His eyes were closed, silver lashes resting against his cheeks, and you thought—if Sleeping Beauty ever existed, this would be him. A prince of ethereal beauty, untouched by the sins of the world.

And then his eyes fluttered open, revealing a shade that can only be described as 'auroral', and you had to actively bite the inside of your cheek to avoid making a noise so embarrassing that you would have to immediately fake your own death to escape the consequences.

Silver, unaware of your minor cardiac event, blinked at you in mild surprise before rising to pull out your chair. Like a gentleman. Like a man raised with actual etiquette.

Oh. Oh, you were in danger.

Swallowing down the entirely inappropriate reaction threatening to burst forth, you sat down and focused on eating. Silver, as always, was polite and composed, and just when you thought you could make it through breakfast without incident—

He mentioned the prince and the villainess were visiting today.

You must have made a face because he immediately looked concerned. “Are you all right?” he asked. “You usually enjoy their visits.”

Ah. Right. The original heroine was an idiot who thought being terrorized by a manipulative prince with daddy issues and a deranged villainess was fun.

You plastered on your best "I am absolutely thrilled" smile and forced out a chipper, “I can’t wait.”

Silver, bless his soul, nodded.

Internally, you were already constructing an elaborate plan to ensure that the prince got the message loud and clear: you were NOT interested.

And if that involved metaphorically throwing him off a metaphorical cliff?

Well. You had no objections.

The moment the Fifth Prince and the Villainess walked into the room, you instinctively tightened your grip on Silver’s sleeve like a soldier preparing for war. Because that’s exactly what this was—a battle. A battle of wits, patience, and trying very hard not to start swinging the nearest porcelain teapot.

The prince, in all his bootleg Casanova glory, approached first, his slick hair practically radiating the arrogance of a man who had never been told “no” in his entire life. His regal posture was flawless, his smirk expertly practiced in front of a mirror for at least five hours a day, and his eyes held the glint of a man who truly believed women were won like prizes at a rigged carnival game.

He reached for your hand, expecting you to giggle like a brainless debutante and let him hold it for an amount of time that was definitely pushing social norms.

Instead, you gripped his hand like a corporate executive about to close a high-stakes business deal. One firm shake. Then, for good measure, you slapped him on the back with the solid force of a man congratulating his buddy on a promotion.

“Good to see you, pal,” you said, voice brimming with friendly aggression.

The prince, visibly malfunctioning, blinked. “I—”

But you were already moving, looping your arm through Silver’s and pressing close to his side like you were the world’s most affectionate barnacle.

Silver, bless his chivalrous heart, barely hesitated before holding your hand firmly in return, his grip warm and steady. You had to physically restrain yourself from letting out a deranged, victorious giggle at the look on the prince’s face. He was staring at your interlocked hands like someone had just stolen his dessert plate right in front of him.

Oh, what a shame. What a tragedy. You almost felt bad.

Almost.

Then came the villainess.

She strutted forward, all sharp smiles and predatory grace, her heavily perfumed presence announcing itself like a nuclear bomb made of floral overkill. Without hesitation, she reached for Silver’s arm, her movements slow, deliberate—

Silver, in response, immediately took a step back like she had just pulled out a vial labeled “Highly Contagious Disease—Do Not Touch.”

You had never respected a man more in your life.

With the efficiency of someone handling a customer complaint, you smoothly stepped between them and took her hand instead. One quick shake—firm, professional, just detached enough to say I acknowledge you exist but not in any way that brings me joy.

She stared at you, visibly seething, like a cat that had just been denied access to the good couch.

Behind you, Silver sighed in such obvious relief that you were pretty sure you just secured a place in his will.

Tea time was, predictably, a disaster.

The prince kept attempting to flirt with you, hitting you with lines so cringeworthy that they could legally be classified as psychological warfare. Every time he tried, you shot him down with the efficiency of a seasoned HR manager rejecting an office romance scandal.

Meanwhile, the villainess was shamelessly trying to touch Silver, leaning in with the dramatic flair of a woman in a period drama who had just found out she had two months to live. Silver, for his part, looked two seconds away from either falling asleep or astral projecting out of sheer discomfort.

By the time they finally left, you had experienced the emotional equivalent of running a full marathon while being chased by geese.

Silver, apparently just as exhausted, slumped onto you like a marionette whose strings had just been brutally severed.

You sat there, unmoving, staring at the top of his head like you had just been gifted an extremely delicate and beautiful artifact. His silver hair was soft, his breathing slow and steady, and—

Oh. You were in danger again.

Future plans. Right. Focus.

You sat there, contemplating your next move like a war general preparing for battle. Clearly, Operation I Am Not Interested, Your Highness was off to a strong start. But you needed a long-term strategy. A game plan. A—

Silver stirred.

You glanced down, just in time to see his eyes flutter open, confusion evident in the soft furrow of his brow. Then he blinked. Looked around. Realized he was half-sprawled across your lap.

A deep red blush spread across his face like ink soaking into parchment. “I—I’m so sorry—”

You, feeling absolutely no shame about using this opportunity to appreciate just how stunning this man was, smiled. “It’s okay.”

Silver looked like he wanted to sink into the floor and never return.

And as you gazed at him—this rare creature of beauty and genuine kindness, blushing like he was the maiden in distress—you thought, It has to be illegal to be this pretty AND nice.

And then, in true romantic fashion, you immediately started plotting ways to keep him as far away from the main plot as possible

You had, to put it simply, absolutely nothing to do.

After successfully fending off the Fifth Prince’s attempts at romance and blocking the Villainess like a medieval goalie, your schedule was depressingly empty. No political meetings. No noble drama. Just you, a very comfortable chair, and the creeping existential dread of living inside a book with a plot so brain-cell-depleting that it should come with a warning label.

So, naturally, you decided to go watch Silver train.

And damn.

You thought you were prepared. You really did. But watching Silver train was a completely different beast from reading about it in the novel.

The way his sword cut through the air? Poetry.

The way his muscles flexed as he parried and countered? Divine artistry.

The way he casually knocked his opponents to the ground while offering them helpful advice like, “You left your right side open. Try shifting your stance” as if he hadn’t just folded them like cheap laundry? Criminal.

You found yourself wishing for one of those tiny opera glasses so you could watch this in HD. Maybe even a chaise lounge so you could dramatically swoon at the appropriate moments.

But you settled for the next best thing—sitting with a cold bottle of water, pretending you weren’t staring at him like an awestruck peasant witnessing a deity descend from the heavens.

Silver eventually noticed your presence and, being the kind soul that he was, immediately came over. Probably to check if you were in distress because, let’s be honest, the original heroine never did anything without needing someone’s help five minutes later.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, eyes filled with genuine concern.

You blinked. “Nope. Just brought you this.”

You handed him the water, and— oh. Oh, wow. Was he blushing?

“I—thank you,” Silver said, taking the bottle with a kind of stunned hesitation, as if no one had ever done something nice for him before. Which, honestly, in this novel? Entirely possible.

“Well, since you’re bored,” he continued, after taking a drink, “would you like to take a walk around town?”

You nodded. Because, really, what else were you going to do? Stare at a wall? Accidentally trigger a romance flag with the prince by breathing in his general direction? No, thank you.

The town was bustling. People were selling overpriced trinkets, children were running around with the manic energy of creatures that had never paid taxes, and the smell of fresh bread filled the air.

You were browsing a suspiciously glittery hat stall when you saw it—a tiny fortune-telling booth, tucked between a bakery and a store selling the kind of weapons that definitely weren’t legally registered.

“Want to check that out?” you asked Silver, jerking your head toward the booth.

Silver, because he was down for anything as long as it didn’t involve unnecessary drama, nodded.

The fortune teller was exactly what you expected. Mysterious robes? Check. Hood obscuring half their face? Check. A table full of random, ominous objects? Check. A single, gnarled hand that slowly reached out the moment you sat down? Horrifying, but also check.

“Your fate is… twisting.” The fortune teller’s voice was dramatic, like they got paid per cryptic sentence. “You must learn to change your destiny. And… most importantly… you must learn how to say no.”

You and Silver exchanged looks.

“…Huh?”

The fortune teller did not elaborate. They simply leaned back, looking entirely too pleased with themselves.

Well. That was unhelpful.

You both stood up, ready to leave when—

“Oh,” the fortune teller added, just as you were stepping out. “Good luck with your romance.”

You and Silver froze.

The air became so thick with tension that you could probably cut it with one of the overpriced swords from earlier.

Neither of you spoke. Neither of you made eye contact.

Silver, visibly flustered, stared very hard at a distant fruit stand.

You, on the other hand, suddenly found a deep, profound interest in the cobblestone street, as if it held the answers to life’s mysteries.

The entire walk home was excruciating. Not because of anything bad—no, because your brains were both melting from sheer secondhand embarrassment.

Every time your hands almost brushed, one of you would jolt like you’d been electrocuted.

At one point, Silver cleared his throat awkwardly.

At another, you tripped on absolutely nothing and had to pretend it didn’t happen.

By the time you got back, you were convinced that the fortune teller wasn’t actually magical, just a professional-level troll who lived for drama.

And you, unfortunately, had walked straight into it.

It was a perfectly peaceful day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and for once, you weren’t being subjected to the medieval drama equivalent of a telenovela.

So, naturally, fate decided to drop-kick that peace into the sun.

One moment, you were lounging in the garden, enjoying the fleeting calm, and the next—

A shadow descended upon you. Something small, fast, and full of chaotic energy launched itself from the goddamn sky.

You barely had time to react before you were two inches away from seeing God again.

By some miracle (or the sheer will of your survival instincts), you managed to not die as a tiny, incredibly energetic man landed in front of you, grinning like he hadn’t just almost assassinated you with his entrance.

“Oops!” he chirped, not looking apologetic at all. “Did I scare you?”

Scare you? Sir, you had aged ten years and seen your life flash before your eyes like a badly edited PowerPoint presentation.

“Who—” you gasped, still processing your near-death experience, “—who are you?”

The menace placed a hand on his chest, dramatic as hell. “Nice to meet you, future daughter-in-law!”

Oh. Oh.

So this was Silver’s dad.

You had to take a moment. Because one—this man did not look like anyone’s dad. He looked like someone’s mischievous younger brother who steals your socks and sets them on fire for fun. And two—Silver was so calm and gentle and responsible.

How?

HOW DID THIS HAPPEN??

Genetics had to be playing 4D chess.

But you quickly discovered that while Lilia was absolutely, certifiably insane, he was also hilarious.

So, like any normal people, you both immediately started talking mad shit about the Fifth Prince and the Villainess.

“Can you believe,” you huffed, sipping your tea like an 18th-century noble gossiping at a ball, “that the Prince keeps trying to flirt with me in front of Silver? In public? With witnesses?”

Lilia cackled. “That boy has no shame. And his fiancée—gods above, she has the personality of a spoon.”

You nearly choked on your tea. “RIGHT?? And she keeps trying to touch Silver like he’s a limited-edition collectible.”

Lilia grinned. “Well, he is handsome.”

“Yeah, but he’s not touchable handsome. He’s look from afar and cry a little handsome.”

“Ah, so you cry when you look at him?”

“…I— I feel like I’m being entrapped by my own words.”

“What are you two talking about?”

You both turned to see Silver standing there, looking… confused.

You, ever the graceful conversationalist, froze like you had been caught committing treason.

Lilia, on the other hand, looked positively delighted.

“Oh, just talking about our beloved Crown Prince,” he said, tone dripping with sarcasm so thick you could butter toast with it.

Silver blinked. His eyes slowly drifted to you.

You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Your dad and I were just bonding over our deep, mutual hatred.”

There was a pause. And then—

Silver smiled.

Not just any smile. A pleased smile. The kind of smile you’d expect from a man who just found out his worst enemy stepped on a rake.

Which. Well.

Considering the Crown Prince was his worst enemy, that checked out.

Unfortunately, the moment of camaraderie didn’t last.

Because Lilia, with the delight of someone about to ruin your entire month, dropped a bombshell.

“Oh, by the way,” he said casually, like he wasn’t about to wreck your day, “war is brewing. The Prince wants Silver to go to the front lines.”

You stopped breathing.

Your blood turned to ice.

The original heroine had been all for it—saying some nonsense about how it was the right thing to do and how Silver should go save lives.

You?

You were NOT that kind of saint.

You were going to beg.

You were going to grovel.

You were going to throw yourself onto the ground like a soccer player faking an injury if you had to.

Silver was NOT going to war.

Lilia was watching you now, a knowing smile on his face.

You were too busy plotting your fiancé’s survival to care.

You had barely finished your morning tea when trouble arrived at your doorstep, wrapped in a cloak of audacity and bad financial decisions.

See, apparently, the previous owner of your body had the charitable sense of a malfunctioning Roomba. She’d give money to anything that sounded remotely good. Orphanage? Sure! Rehabilitation center? Fantastic! An organization claiming to rescue drowning fish? Take all of it.

And now, since you had not been throwing bags of gold at questionable "charities" like a medieval Jeff Bezos with a conscience, someone had come personally to shake you down.

The man standing in front of you was the exact type of person who looked like he belonged in a back alley deal gone wrong. He had the thin mustache of a man who thought twirling it made him look menacing and the beady eyes of someone who’d absolutely try to sell you "magic beans" at a 500% markup.

"You!" he sneered, pointing a bony finger at you like he was about to curse your entire bloodline. "Why have you ceased your donations to the Sacred Order of the Benevolent Fish Saviors? Do you not care for the plight of the aquatic brethren?"

You stared at him, unblinking.

“…Are you seriously trying to convince me that fish can drown?”

"The oceans are a dangerous place!" he snapped, voice thick with righteous fury. "Only the kindhearted can understand the delicate balance of aquatic life—”

"Alright, shut up." You pinched the bridge of your nose. "No more money. Get a real job. Touch some grass. Read a book that isn’t written by con artists."

You thought that would be the end of it. Oh, how wrong you were.

Because instead of groveling like any normal scam artist when their grift gets cut off, this man decided to take the most insane course of action possible—he lunged at you.

Now, let’s get one thing straight. You were ready to commit a crime. Your 4-inch heels were locked, loaded, and prepared to introduce themselves to his ribcage. But you didn’t even get the chance.

Because before you could react, something blurred at the edge of your vision—

CRACK.

The next thing you knew, the man was frozen in place, his wrist locked in an iron grip, and standing beside you was Silver.

Silver, who you hadn’t even noticed entering the room.

Silver, whose grip looked firm enough to end generations.

Silver, who just made a grown man sound like a dying accordion.

The scammer wheezed, his face rapidly losing color as he tried and failed to wrench himself free.

Silver’s expression? Calm. Unbothered. Serene, even. Like he hadn’t just manhandled this guy into an early retirement.

“…I’d appreciate it if you didn’t attack my fiancée,” Silver said, voice so polite that it somehow made everything ten times more terrifying.

You blinked. You could physically hear the bones in the scammer’s arm considering a career change.

Silver finally let go—shoving him toward the door like he was disposing of a particularly annoying mosquito. The man stumbled out, barely managing to stay upright, and within seconds, he was sprinting off the property like the devil himself was on his heels.

When Silver turned back to you, he looked almost sheepish. "…Sorry you had to see that," he murmured. "I don’t usually act like that in front of others."

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

Because what were you supposed to say to that?

“Oh no, Silver, that was awful. Truly terrible. In fact, I definitely did not find it insanely attractive when you nearly broke a man’s wrist for me.”

Yeah, no way in hell were you admitting that.

Instead, you just smiled, folding your hands neatly in front of you. "No, no, it’s fine. No need to apologize."

Silver still looked vaguely guilty. You, meanwhile, were trying very hard to resist the urge to start giggling like a schoolgirl.

Because holy shit.

Was it legal to be this attractive AND chivalrous?

If Silver kept this up, you were going to have a serious problem.

The ball was grand, elegant, and, most importantly, the single biggest waste of your time since you once spent two hours watching a documentary about the history of forks.

You had already resigned yourself to being bored out of your mind when Lilia swooped in like the guardian angel you never asked for and dragged you to a shadowy corner of the ballroom. This was, according to him, the best place to engage in the most sacred of all noble pastimes—people-watching and ruthless judgment.

And what a show it was.

"Oh, oh, look at that one!" Lilia cackled, nearly doubling over as he pointed at a woman who had, in a bold and truly ill-advised move, decided to wear a dress that looked like a monochrome cake. "She looks like she repurposed a funeral veil!"

You took a sip of your drink and nearly spit it out. "Lilia, that dress has committed war crimes against fashion."

"The ruffles! The sleeves! It’s like someone asked themselves, ‘How do I make this look as unflattering as possible?’ and then succeeded beyond their wildest dreams," he added.

You continued this noble pursuit for a solid fifteen minutes, giggling over outfits that defied both reason and taste. The two of you had just started critiquing a man who looked like he had raided a circus wardrobe when your night took a dramatic turn for the worse. The prince—His Royal Unwantedness—had spotted you.

You watched in horror as he began striding over, each step dripping with the unearned confidence of a man who had never been told "absolutely not" in his entire life except by his father. This was a man who probably thought women fainted at the mere sight of him when, in reality, they were most likely collapsing from secondhand embarrassment.

Lilia’s expression shifted instantly. The usual mischievous twinkle in his eyes vanished, replaced by something cold and sharp. He looked ready to commit several crimes, and you were tempted to let him.

But no. You were mature. You were reasonable. You were absolutely about to handle this like a professional.

So you winked at Lilia and whispered, "Relax. I got this."

The prince didn’t bother with pleasantries when he arrived, because of course he didn’t. "Dance with me," he said, because why waste time on politeness when you can just issue demands like a badly written romance villain?

You took his hand with a practiced, polite smile. "Of course, Your Highness," you said sweetly, the verbal equivalent of setting a trap and waiting for him to fall right in.

The dance started off normally enough. The prince led you across the ballroom, his movements controlled and graceful. Unfortunately, any illusion of elegance was immediately ruined by the fact that he would not stop staring at you. Not in the way Silver did, all soft and careful, but like he was trying to figure out if you were edible.

"You seem different tonight," he said, voice oozing with forced charm. "More… confident."

You forced out a laugh that you hoped conveyed the exact right amount of fake amusement. "And you seem exactly the same, Your Highness."

If he noticed the insult, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he pulled you just a little closer. That was his first mistake.

His second mistake came when his hand decided to wander lower than what was remotely appropriate.

Your reaction was immediate. You didn’t even think—your knee just shot up with the force of divine judgment.

And oh, what a glorious moment it was.

The prince let out a strangled sound somewhere between a dying peacock and a man realizing all his hopes and dreams had just been shattered. He crumpled like a marionette with cut strings, collapsing into himself as the entire ballroom fell into stunned silence.

For one perfect, breathtaking moment, nobody spoke.

Then you gasped dramatically, placing a delicate hand over your mouth like the very picture of innocent devastation. "Oh my goodness!" you exclaimed, voice laced with the perfect amount of fake concern. "I was simply startled when you touched me there! I had no idea you were so close!"

The Empress, who had been watching this whole scene unfold with the same expression one might wear when realizing their soup had a cockroach in it, took a single look at her son, let out a long, exhausted sigh, and then turned on her heel and left the ballroom. She didn’t even glance back.

Somewhere behind you, Lilia was laughing so hard he had to physically clutch a pillar for support.

Before you could bask in your triumph, a warm, familiar presence appeared at your side.

Silver.

"Are you alright?" he asked, voice quiet but firm.

You nodded, still recovering from the sheer joy of watching the prince—His Royal Lowness— collapse like a sandcastle at high tide. "I’m fine," you assured him.

Silver, ever thorough, scanned you with a careful gaze, double-checking for any signs of distress. Apparently satisfied, he slowly turned his attention to the prince, who was still on the floor making noises that sounded vaguely like whimpering.

Silver’s face remained neutral, but the sheer force of his glare was something otherworldly. You were surprised the prince hadn’t just spontaneously combusted on the spot.

Lilia sauntered up beside you and, with the most casual nonchalance in the world, lifted his hand and gave you a perfectly subtle high-five.

Falling in love with Silver was not something you had planned for. It wasn’t even something you had remotely considered, because falling for a fictional character—even one brought to life by the absurdity of your existence—was stupid.

And yet, here you were. Doomed.

It had started subtly, like a slow-acting poison. You’d watch him train and catch yourself admiring the way he moved, graceful and disciplined, like a warrior from some epic tale.

Then it got worse. A white bunny hopping through the garden? That looks like Silver. A particularly stunning sunset, lilac and soft? Those are Silver’s eyes. A suspiciously sharp knife on the dinner table? Silver has a sharp sword.

There was no escape. The entire world had transformed into a living scrapbook of Silver-Themed Hallucinations, and it was ruining you.

You couldn’t sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, there he was—standing under the moonlight, holding your hand, looking at you like you were something precious. It was unbearable.

Which brought you to now.

You were sitting at a tea party, drowning in a state of sleep deprivation so severe that you were genuinely considering just face-planting into your teacup and accepting whatever fate awaited you. The sunlight was too bright, the air was too floral, and the pastries tasted like nothing. Everything sucked.

And then, because the universe hated you, the villainess approached.

She had the smug, self-satisfied look of someone who had never had a single original thought in her life. "Oh dear," she said, voice dripping with saccharine mockery, "you look absolutely dreadful today. Has your precious Duke been keeping you up all night?"

Usually, you would have handled this with grace. A snide remark, a well-placed jab, maybe even an eyeroll so dramatic it would have sent you into another timeline.

But not today.

Today, you were tired.

Today, you were grappling with a full-scale emotional crisis.

Today, you had reached your limit.

So, instead of responding like a rational, civilized person, you calmly reached for the nearest cup of juice, lifted it with all the dignity of a noblewoman, and threw it directly at her face.

The liquid splashed over her dress, staining the expensive fabric a deep, unforgiving red.

Silence. Absolute silence.

Her mouth opened, presumably to shriek, but you were not done.

Before she could get a word out, you grabbed her by the collar, yanking her forward so she could fully comprehend the depths of your unholy exhaustion.

"The next time you run your mouth," you said, voice dangerously low, "you might just end up meeting God."

Her eyes widened in pure, unfiltered terror.

Oh, but you weren’t finished. You gave her collar a final, dramatic tug. "And keep your hands off my fiancé."

Then, with the grandeur of a war general who had just claimed victory, you released her, turned on your heel, and stormed out.

Silver, who had witnessed everything, stared at you as though you had just set the entire kingdom on fire.

You grabbed his wrist, ignoring the way he flinched in bewilderment, and dragged him out with you.

You didn’t stop until you were safely inside the carriage, away from prying eyes, and only then did you collapse onto the seat, pressing your hands against your face.

Silver sat beside you, still looking utterly shell-shocked. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, clearly struggling to form a single coherent thought.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he slowly reached for your hand. His touch was warm, steady—like an anchor. "What’s wrong?" he asked softly.

And that was it. The last thread of your restraint snapped.

Before you could even think about stopping yourself, you turned to him, grabbed his face, and kissed him.

It was immediate. There was no hesitation, no moment of confusion. Silver kissed you back like he had been waiting for this his whole life. His hands moved to cradle your face, gentle but firm, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

You didn’t know how long it lasted—time had ceased to exist—but when you finally pulled away, your heart was a mess.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment crush you. "I love you," you admitted, voice raw. "And I have been suffering."

Silver’s eyes widened, but only for a moment. Then, with a sudden, almost breathless laugh, he leaned in again. "I love you too," he murmured against your lips, "so much."

And then he kissed you again.

Take that, villainess.

There were many things you did not want to deal with first thing in the morning.

A war? Absolutely not.

A war involving Silver? Somebody was going to die.

You groaned as you dragged yourself out of bed at the noise downstairs, feeling like a corpse being forced to participate in capitalism. You stomped downstairs, barely managing to keep yourself upright, and immediately regretted existing.

Silver was already in the living room, arms crossed, looking about two seconds away from snapping someone’s spine in half like a stale breadstick. Lilia, usually a walking cryptid with an unshakable grin, looked like he was holding back every unholy thought in his mind just for the sake of his son’s sanity.

And then. Them.

The Prince. The Villainess. The living embodiments of tax fraud and emotional instability.

Oh, hell no.

You grabbed the nearest maid, who was visibly vibrating with fear, and whispered, "What’s happening?"

She gulped. "T-The Prince is trying to send His Grace to lead the war."

Your soul ascended.

Your patience evaporated.

You had not suffered through an isekai, navigated 18th-century nonsense, and fallen head over heels for your incredibly hot and kind fiancé just for him to be thrown into a battlefield meat grinder because some discount royal didn’t want to risk his own cowardly neck.

You stormed across the room like a woman possessed, and the moment the Prince saw you, his whole face lit up—because he thought you were still the naive airhead he could manipulate into convincing Silver to go die for him.

The Villainess, however? She shrank back immediately.

Maybe it was the murderous glare you were directing at them. Maybe it was because she had witnessed your unhinged wrath firsthand. Maybe it was because deep down, she understood that she was in the presence of a feral raccoon of a person who had already died once and had nothing left to lose.

The Prince reached out to touch your shoulder as if he could physically weasel you onto his side.

Big mistake.

You swatted his hand away so hard you nearly dislocated his wrist.

"No," you said, voice dripping with finality.

The Prince blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"Silver’s not going to war." You looked him dead in the eyes. "Try someone else."

Silence.

The Prince’s face twisted into a diplomatic smile. "But, my dear—"

"Do I look like your dear?" You took a step forward, forcing him back. "Silver already said no. The Emperor didn't send a decree, which means you’re just trying to shove him in front of your responsibilities, aren’t you?"

His jaw clenched. "That’s not—"

"Oh, but it is," you cut in, grinning like a predator who just found dinner. "If you need a sacrifice so badly, why not lead the war yourself? Oh, wait—you’re scared." You tilted your head. "Why should Silver go fight and die in your place? What do you contribute to this kingdom besides being the reason the Empress probably drinks herself to sleep?"

Lilia let out a choked laugh. Silver covered his mouth to hide his amusement. The Villainess looked like she wanted to phase out of existence.

"How dare you!" The Prince seethed, looking like a child whose toy had been taken away.

"How dare you?" you mimicked back, voice laced with venomous mockery. "Seriously, just die already. It’s called natural selection. Worms like you don’t deserve to keep reproducing and terrorizing the female population."

The Prince, red with humiliation and rage, looked like he wanted to lunge at you, but before he could humiliate himself further, he turned on his heel and stormed out.

The Villainess trailed after him, but not before giving you a look that was equal parts impressed and terrified.

As soon as they were gone, you turned to Silver and clapped your hands together.

"So," you said, still brimming with unholy energy. "Let’s get married."

Silver, who was still processing the apocalyptic verbal execution you had just delivered, blinked at you. "What?"

You nodded sagely. "Yeah. Immediately. Preferably before they try something else. Then we can go on a honeymoon somewhere far away from all this war nonsense."

Silver stared at you, beautifully confused. "...Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," you replied. "Pack your bags, babe, we’re getting hitched."

Silver, against all odds, smiled. And then, he agreed.

Lilia threw a celebratory punch in the air.

Congratulations. You’re planning a wedding now, baby!

Planning a wedding was supposed to be a stressful but joyous occasion.

Your reality? It was mostly just stress.

Between dodging passive-aggressive nobles, fending off suspiciously enthusiastic tailors, and ensuring that the wedding menu didn’t include anything remotely related to the Prince’s favorite foods out of sheer spite, you were running on fumes.

And that’s when Silver came to you, looking strangely hesitant.

Immediately, your brain went to worst-case scenarios.

Was he having doubts? Did he get conscripted behind your back? Was he about to pull a tragic self-sacrifice move that you’d have to thwart with unhinged levels of devotion and threats of arson?

"Can we talk?" he asked, his voice unsure.

You, in full fight-or-flight mode, clutched your chest. "Silver, if you’re about to say something stupid, I’m legally obligated to stop you."

His expression twitched, like he wasn’t sure whether to be exasperated or endeared. "It’s not stupid," he assured you. Then, after a pause, "I wanted to ask… do you like this country?"

You stared at him. Stared.

"Silver." You grabbed both his hands. "Are you joking?"

His gaze softened, but he stayed serious. "If you had the choice, would you leave?"

You blinked. "Why?"

Silver exhaled, his grip on your hands tightening just slightly. "Lilia and I… We lived somewhere else before we came here. I was thinking—if we left, we could live peacefully. Away from all this. We wouldn’t be nobility, but we wouldn’t have to deal with—" He gestured vaguely, as if trying to encompass the entire kingdom’s collective insanity.

And that’s when it hit you.

You could leave. You could actually escape.

You didn’t have to waste your life playing politics in a country where half the nobility was allergic to common sense. You didn’t have to pretend to care about court scandals that made your brain rot. You didn’t have to deal with war-hungry royals who had the intelligence of a damp sock.

You could take your hot, kind, sword-wielding fiancé and dip.

You could live a peaceful, quiet, cottagecore dream where your biggest concerns would be whether the goats ate your laundry or if Silver accidentally adopted another wild animal.

You gripped Silver’s hands so hard you nearly cut off circulation.

"Silver." Your voice shook with emotion. "I love you so much right now."

He blinked, startled by your intensity.

"I’m taking as much wealth as I can from this godforsaken kingdom," you declared, fully committed. "And then we’re running. We’ll live a cozy life, I’ll grow a garden, you can train without political idiots breathing down your neck, and we’ll be so disgustingly in love that Lilia will probably want to leave out of secondhand embarrassment."

Silver stared at you for a beat, lips parting slightly—before he suddenly let out a breathy laugh.

God, he was so beautiful when he smiled.

He cupped your cheek, gaze warm, and leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. It was soft, reverent, like he couldn’t believe this was real.

You melted, gripping his sleeve to keep yourself from combusting.

When he pulled away, he whispered, "Then that’s it. We’ll get married, and we’ll be free."

And that was that.

You were getting married and escaping these lunatics before they had the chance to retaliate.

Honestly? Best wedding gift ever.

Mornings in your new life were warm, lazy, and sweet— the kind of peace you never thought you’d get after surviving the absolute circus that was your past life.

You stretched with a yawn, shuffled into the kitchen, and started making breakfast. The house smelled of fresh bread, eggs, and domestic bliss.

And then, like clockwork, Silver appeared.

You weren’t sure if he was half-awake or just naturally this clingy, but the second he found you, he wrapped himself around you from behind. His arms encircled your waist, and he rested his chin on your shoulder, pressing a slow, sleepy kiss to your neck.

“Good morning,” he murmured against your skin, voice still husky with sleep.

Weak. You were weak.

“Silver,” you tried to scold, but it came out softer than intended.

He hummed, not moving, not even pretending to be helpful. His weight was solid, grounding, a warm anchor against your back.

"You are actively making this difficult," you sighed, flipping a pancake.

“Difficult to cook?” he asked, his lips brushing over your jaw.

“Difficult to live, Silver. How am I supposed to focus when you’re like this?”

He chuckled, pulling you impossibly closer. “I don’t see the problem.”

And this was your life now.

In the afternoons, Silver trained with Sebek, and you watched, entertained by their very specific brand of friendship.

Sebek was loud, passionate, and dedicated. Silver was calm, level-headed, and tired. Together, they created the strangest dynamic known to man.

“Silver, your form is slipping!” Sebek barked, nearly vibrating with intensity.

Silver deflected Sebek’s attack without even looking. “It’s fine.”

“It is NOT fine!” Sebek yelled, throwing himself forward with the fury of a man who took personal offense to subpar swordsmanship.

You sipped your drink, watching this unfold like it was a very dramatic stage play.

Eventually, Silver knocked Sebek’s sword from his hands with an effortless twist, and Sebek fell to his knees, gasping.

You clapped. “Wow. What a performance. I’d rate it a solid 8/10.”

Sebek looked offended. “8?! What was missing?!”

“More drama,” you said. “Maybe fake your death next time. Really sell the loss.”

Sebek narrowed his eyes, as if actually considering it. Oh no. What have you done?

Lilia showed up almost every day, either to offer unsolicited advice or to cause chaos. Sometimes, he brought Malleus.

You still hadn’t fully recovered from realizing that Malleus was the fae prince.

Today was no different. He arrived grinning, eyes full of mischief, which was already a sign of danger.

“So,” he started, dramatically leaning in. “Have you two considered… adopting a dragon?”

Silver blinked. You stared.

Malleus, sipping his tea beside him, nodded sagely. “It would be an honorable task.”

You set your cup down very, very slowly.

“I—what?” you asked, convinced you misheard.

“A dragon,” Lilia said, as if that explained everything. “You’re living in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nature, why not raise a baby dragon? Imagine the bond! The companionship! The chaos!”

Malleus actually looked excited. “I could grant you one from my own lineage.”

Silver looked at you, waiting for you to react.

You looked at Silver.

Then back at Malleus, a literal fae prince, who had just casually offered to gift you a baby dragon.

Sebek, in the corner, looked like he was about to faint.

“...You’re joking,” you said, voice dangerously neutral.

Lilia and Malleus just smiled.

You dragged your hands down your face. “I barely survived dealing with a corrupt kingdom, now you want me to raise a fire-breathing menace?”

“It wouldn’t breathe fire immediately,” Malleus assured.

“That is not the part I am concerned about.”

Silver, who had been quiet this whole time, actually seemed to be considering it.

You kicked his shin under the table.

He cleared his throat. “I think we should wait.”

Malleus sighed. Lilia just patted your back. “You’ll change your mind.”

Not likely.

But at night? It was just you and Silver.

After a long day of chaos and laughter, you’d collapse onto your shared bed, immediately melting into Silver’s embrace.

He kissed your forehead, soft, lingering. “Tired?”

You sighed happily, nuzzling into his warmth. “Mm. Just happy.”

His arms tightened around you, like he never wanted to let go.

And this was your life now.

Your old country was probably in flames, but who cared? You had love, friendship, and peace.

Silver smiled at you, soft and content. And you thought, Yup. This is it.

Thank my best friend for writing this ridiculous, insane novel.

Who do you wanna see next?

Series Masterlist ; All Masterlists

[britcision]

GANG I AM SURE IT IS OLD NEWS BUT I HAVE BEEN DOING MATH AND LEMME TELL YOU A FUCKING THING

EXHIBIT A: MITHRUN’S TIMELINE PER THE DUNGEON GUIDE

EXHIBIT B: KABRU’S TIMELINE PER THE DUNGEON GUIDE

EXHIBIT C: MILSIRIL’S COMIC PER THE DUNGEON GUIDE

HYPOTHESIS: Milsiril was bare minimum visiting, caring for, and feeding Mithrun at points in his timeline between year 480 (trying to recover) and 500 (appointed as a captain - this is also noted to have happened immediately when he was fit for work, since they were running out of people)

In the comic, Milsiril specifically references Utaya (year 499, from Kabru’s timeline - it’s the only demon incident in Utaya), as she uses the incident with the demon in Utaya to get Mithrun to eat and get his act together

Kabru lived with Milsiril in the elven capital from year 499 to 510

Milsiril specifically dislikes and avoids other elves… now with the apparent exception of Mithrun, who she thinks she might have quite liked pre-nuking

Milsiril would not want to go to Mithrun’s family estate and deal with his entire family every time to take care of him… and they may not have been keen on her dolls or cooking

The only thing we know about Mithrun and his family is that he hated his brother, and visits him every five years (brother has extended a permanent invitation for Mithrun to visit any time pretty sure Mithrun overestimates how much his brother cared/noticed he didn’t like him)

His parents deadass aren’t mentioned except to note that he’s the bastard child, and his parents ignored his older brother. There’s an implication here that they preferred Mithrun… until they sent him to a death squad

Milsiril has a repeatedly-mentioned tendency to take in strays, usually kids of short-lived peoples, and strong nurturing instincts that may/may not be pretty dehumanizing

CONCLUSION: there is a non-zero chance that Mithrun and Kabru LIVED TOGETHER FOR A FUCKING YEAR post Utaya at Milsiril’s house and just didn’t even fucking notice

I am losing my mind

This is incredible

Mithrun deadass coulda been The Crazy Uncle In The Attic for a full fucking year

He was busy going feral and blaming himself for Utaya cuz it “could have been different” if he’d been there and recovered for the same fucking year THE LAST SURVIVOR OF UTAYA was in the next room

What kind of unhinged interactions did they have

Kabru was fucking SEVEN the state of Mithrun in that comic woulda fucking RETRAUMATIZED HIM any mention of him being a dungeon lord???? NOPE

We know from the changeling incident that Mithrun barely considered Kabru a distinct person so 0% chance he would ever put it together but KABRU

Kabru is an observant little thot and his favourite thing is making assumptions from his observations

Just a MENTION of Milsiril and Kabru shoulda been all up on that

Mithrun FULLY DID mention her as Milsiril the Gloomy when exposing his backstory and Kabru just… tossed every single name in the garbage

(Which, fair. Elves live a long time, the odds of there being only one Milsiril are 0% and she wasn’t all that gloomy with Kabru, and, frankly, he had bigger concerns named Laios Touden)

Ugh too much too many bits Otta’s comic includes them actually talking about his adoptive mom but without names they were SO CLOSE I am going insane

Fanfiction

So much fanfiction

It MUST be post Kabru/Mithrun this ship is all angst and tbh the whole “desiring someone who can’t desire” is only gonna consternate Kabru for so long so once that is done I want a slice of “WAIT A FUCKING SECOND you’re the guy in the attic???????”

[rainybyday]

This is mostly based on these three ideas I had circling in my little head please send help. 

Warring States Period - First Idea

Kaguya won in this timeline and only Team Seven survived, both past and present (Sakura, Naruto, Sai, Sasuke, Tenzo, Kakashi, and Obito (all in a total of seven :D)), and so they went into a new timeline as they used their last bit of Chakra to destroy their timeline so Kaguya will never escape and take over other dimensions 

Relationships 

ObKk because I somehow am in a toxic yaoi shipper cycle, god help

Sasuke and Sakura will stay together because I have a massive pin collection with amazing pins of these two so it made me biased

Naruto and Sai are without any partners since their timeline got fucked

Pray

Ok so let me go over some little details I like to have

Uchihas love so fucken deeply its not even funny so when their loved ones are threatened, all hell breaks loose,

Hatakes are a feral clan and while they are seen as “domestic” in modern times not so much in the Warring States, there are two reactions. One (stupid) people will try to fight them to scare them off (ha) or are scared to high heaven and back away from them

Hatakes have fangs and have habits like touching and calling their close ones pack and mate and pup if considered pack 

Yes all of his students are his pups and Tenzo is affectionately called a sapling once he realizes that is a THING for Senju’s to say to their young

Tenzo secretly loves it

But before he never said it out loud since, you know, trauma

Hatakes are territorial of their pack so if anyone messes with their pack when they can’t handle it you are going to wake up with your throat being ripped apart from Hatake teeth

Having a Hatake and Uchiha couple might be a pair made in shinobi heaven if I think in that sense

Fear them

Kakashi gives head pats like it is free candy

Everyone decided to have the Hatake clan symbol on them to place a barrier between them and other warring clans because no one likes to mess with Hatakes (only dumb people do, aka, the political greedy people)

Oh wait I found my plot!

Sakura is still considered a civilian during this time, with no family name or any of that sort since, back then, a civilian was too poor to have a last name, so she, alongside Sai, are now Hatake. 

Since Hatake’s have a pack mentality they do have the occasion of adopting outside their clan and giving their last name, however, there have been very few cases in which a clan outsider is adopted into the Hatake. Usually, this is issued to the clan head of that clan and things will get sorted out. But, because Sasuke, Naruto, and Tenzo are time travelers, no one knows of them nor are they official in the clan registry they don’t do that. 

 Bastard children if you will, and while it's possible for both Naruto and Tenzo that is going to be difficult to tell with Sasuke and Obito

So they decided not to use their last names in such situations unless officially asked if they were of [instert clan here] and just said they are by blood

After all, last names are a claim so they are careful to say they are a Uchiha, Uzumaki, or Senju

Do they claim them?

I mean no?????

Let's say no

They are blood-related but do not claim name, claim blood, not name. If named they are shipped to the clan’s compound and goodbye pack member. 

NOT ON KAKASHI’S WATCH

Ok so, timeline!

I’m gonna make it about maybe a year or more before the death of Inzuma

Just because I can and because tension is still there

But not THE tension if you know what I mean

I want Tobirama to feel like something is wrong with the Chakra signatures floating around but I want Hashirama to know first what the actual problem is with the forest warning him about a pack he should not cross

Why the forest?

Because they feel another person with the forest within them

Aka Tenzo

Case and point

They find Sasuke first by accident

It was a patrol of Senju who found him and immediately didn’t know what to do but they had to capture the thing because obviously it was a Uchiha

They corner him and they are about to catch him when the trees start to move

At first, they think it's their clan head who came to trap him 

But no

The branches are capturing THEM and leaving the Uchiha alone

So now they are confused

Confused they see a man with short chestnut hair come out from nowhere, take the Uchiha into his arms, and warns them that they shouldn't mess with a Hatake cub

And

Disappears

They promptly freak the fuck out

I'll add more later and edit more of my other two ideas cus I can. Nice to do a break on the dcxdp fandom not gonna lie.

Part 2 | Part 3

[vash-the-trans-catboy]

Trigun fics Masterpost!

Colors on your Skin, Etched into your Memory: Vashwood, Part of Colors on the Skin au, 2789 words, Wolfwood comforts Vash after he is assaulted.

Broken Plant (Please don’t Kill me): Vashwood, part of fear of water au, 3197 words, Wolfwood and Vash have a job in town to fix a broken plant that goes very wrong.

Cold Sleepy Cuddles: Vashwood, 818 words, The heat breaks in Vash and Wolfwood’s apartment which leads to sleepy cuddles to keep each other warm. Plus very cat-coded selectively mute Vash with lots of pet names

Only You: Vashwood, MillyMeryl, highschool au, 17724 words, Wolfwood has a crush on the hottest and most popular and most talkative guy in the entire school (Vash). The only problem is when ever Vash is alone with Wolfwood, he refuses to a say a single word. Despite not talking around Wolfwood, he always greets him or says goodbye with a hug. Which drives Wolfwood crazy because he does not understand the mixed signals he is getting. Does Vash actually hate Wolfwood? Or is there something else going on?

Feral Vampire: Vashwood, 1228 words, Vampire hunter Wolfwood is assigned to bring escaped feral Vash back to Knives.

Healing Plant (save me save me save me): Vashwood, sequel to broken plant (fear of water au), 3347 words, After the incident with the plant tank, Vash is left with a fear of water and showering. Wolfwood attempts to help Vash finds ways to cope.

You Killed us (I’m Sorry): Vashwood, 2914 words, Vash is attempting to drive again years after Rem and Nai died in a car accident, but the survivors guilt eats him alive. Wolfwood helps pull Vash back together dealing with the loss of his family and his ptsd.

Missing Stray: Vashwood, 1712 words, After the July incident, Vash goes missing. After months of searching for him, Wolfwood finds a small scraggly orange cat who is weirdly similar to Vash

Reunion and Disarming: Vashwood, 5336 words, Vash is attacked by Knives and is rushed to the hospital. But because he is a plant, the doctors don’t know how to properly treat him. Vash has a fun experience with medical malpractice, Wolfwood is by his side to help him through it.

Bite Me: Vashwood, 1445 words, Vampire Vash passes out from refusing to drink blood. Wolfwood encourages Vash to feed from him and finds out he really likes it.

Panicking Plant (I Don’t Know What’s Real): Vashwood, sequel to Healing Plant, 3241 words, Vash's fight or flight response is triggered when he feels someone (something) attack him in the shower. He starts to panic and have a flashback to the incident. Wolfwood helps comfort him and ground him back to reality.

He somehow transformed into a cat? Meryl x Milly, Meryl x Milly x Vash, 3127 words, Meryl and Milly continue to look for Vash after he went missing two years ago. They go to a tavern to try to get information, get super drunk then bring home a stray cat they are convinced is actually Vash.

Something’s Wrong: Vashwood, 2057 words, Vash and Wolfwood go out to a bar for date night. When Wolfwood steps out for a smoke, Vash gets drugged.

Rescued: No ships, part of cat cafe au, 3245 words, wolfwood and Livio work at a cat cafe. Their boss Luida gets a call that two cats, Vash and Knives, are scheduled to be euthanized if she doesn't take them in. Since a cat cafe is a very stressful place for two very traumatized cats, Wolfwood agrees to foster the cats until they are ready to be adopted.

Swimming Plant (Beach Trip Intermission): Vashwood, 3460 words, part of Fear of Water series, Wolfwood and Vash go on a trip to the beach. Vash nearly drowns which triggers a flashback to the plant tank incident.

Needles (HRT and Medical Trauma): Vashwood, 6394 words, Vash starts HRT. The T shot gives him flashbacks of the medical trauma he suffered when captured on the arc

[padawansuggest]

Took a shower (thank the lord right) and accidentally created a new AU in my noggin be warned this one is super wild. Includes: Baby-Wan and ouchies and time travel

Obi-Wan goes back in time (whatever maybe he did it himself maybe someone did it to him maybe he did it on accident but it’s post ANH okay) and suddenly finds himself in his toddler body.

You know what his first thought is? Cody. And absolute grief because his soulmate HAD been there in the force with him but now he’s gone. So what does Cody make him think of? Jango. Which means he’s all ughhhhhhhhh I have to go save him, and manages to mindcontrol some guy into getting him off planet. So here he is four whole years old with all the adult emotions trapped in a baby body what can go wrong??? Pirates. Obviously.

Frankly the only reason he doesn’t feel bad about the guy he mind controlled cause he was already gonna end up here so. Whoops.

So who manages to find them of all the damn people? Jaster’s entire ship headed to Korda Six (yes I’m going there the force said ‘I’m gonna give the gays everything they want’ and started with a happy baby’) but having been waylaid by a sudden four year old WITH A KNIFE AND FERAL STUPIDITY on the bridge. He says his name is Cody, he cut Montrose on his calve and it IS gonna require surgery and he bites everyone. Especially Jango. Who is only ten and crying because an ik’aad bit him and Jaster is very torn between giving Jango kisses for his ouchie and helping catch the toddler that knows how to escape through vents and is staging a one toddler zero men mutiny and is loudly telling everyone he’s going to the Jedi.

Maybe he’s possessed. Maybe they can just take him to the Jetii for a quick exorcism and play blaster-armor-saber for who gets the honor of adopting his feral ass.

Till they come across a pirate ship beating up a stranded ship and that’s just not nice so well shit they gotta save them.

Which is how they end up with a traumatized Captain and a stowaway toddler who’s demanding to see Jango once he realizes what ship he’s on. Jango is grumpily dragged in to see him, gets baby attached to his chest (listen he is so over babies now you can let go anytime he’s not interested in getting bit again) and then the vent to the medical room and a feral toddler with a knife comes flying out and demands to get his love back right this fucking instant.

Jaster finally gets a hold of him, disarms him, and puts him in time out before asking who taught him that word that’s not an ad’ika word!

Cody, repentant because adult emotions in a baby body fills you up so much, cries and asks for cuddles. Jaster gives him cuddles before putting in on a cot with Obi-Wan who promptly forgets Jango exists and gives Cody shy baby kisses and holds his hand. Jango is relieved to not be the center of attention for a moment. Till Jaster promptly realizes no one told Obi-Wan who Jango is, why did Obi ask for him?? Obi says he’s a Jetii master trapped in a baby’s body.

Yeah so possession it is. They call up the Jetii and ask if they can come over for exorcisms n chill, the Jetii say they can give them one better can you plz pick up some stranded Jetii along the way? Don’t worry they can assess the situation and see if they need to come in for it. It’s Master Windu and Padawan Billaba! What a surprise! Obi had no idea this could be so easy!

Anyways. So he’s having trouble talking because let’s just say I’ve decided so, so he sorta throws his mental shields down and starts projecting at people, which along with giving EVERYONE a headache, instead of just Mace for once, gives the force the chance to snap a BUNCH of bonds in place. Like a master-apprentice bond with Mace. And vod’e bonds with Depa and Jango. And a Buir bond with Jaster. And a full fledged soulmate bond with Cody.

Anyways. Mace thinks he’s decided three things: he’s gotta (not wants to, but has to) get the senate to let them make an outpost in Mandalorian space so him and Obi can be with Obi’s new dad and family, he does NOT want to be a council member anymore because this is a fucking mess that’s gonna turn into a 6 day meeting for them, and yes, they need to go to the temple.

Anyways. Make Cody a small child and give him a knife is my solution to a lot of things actually.

[starshadyy]

what your favorite splatoon character says about YOU!

obligatory “this is a joke” disclaimer, please don’t take offense i’m only being silly👉👈

☆ ★ ☆

callie: you are a diehard squid sisters fan. you have an intrinsic sense for design and are probably super creative. you hate it when people misinterpret her. others wouldn’t assume it, but you actually need therapy more than most others on this list…😔

marie: you’re really intimidating but probably super nice. you’re actually good at the game and are well-versed in the meta. you may not be the best at communication, but you have a strong intuition and are good at reading people

pearl: an absolute feral crackhead who needs to be kept on a leash. definitely queer. nasty majesty is your national anthem. you breathe life and energy into every situation you enter, and others appreciate you for it. you are pearlina’s strongest soldier! 🩷🩵

marina: you are a massive nerd /affectionate. you either wanna be her friend or you have a fat crush on her. you listen to splatoon ost all the time. your room is packed with stuff from the media you like, including mountains of plushies

shiver: you join her team during splatfests even when you don’t necessarily agree with the platform. you’re likely very sarcastic and always speak your mind. oh yeah, and you’re a weeb

frye: you loved her from the start and defended her honor back when everyone was clowning on her design. you’re very talented but humble about your accomplishments. you would bite someone if allowed

big man: you act laid back but are probably filled with anxiety. i get the vibe that you would own an unconventional pet of some kind [turtle, frog, ferret, etc.]. you’re for sure the mom friend. you know nothing about splatoon lore

captain 3: you are the BACKBONE of this fandom and i have nothing but respect for you. you’re probably ranked pretty high in competitive and are likely a completionist

agent 4: you grew up on splatoon 2 and were sure that they would show up in side order only to be… uh, half right? i’m so sorry sweet prince /gn. don’t you worry, your day [splatoon 4] is fast approaching…

eight: you’re very analytical and derive great joy from the story aspects of splatoon. you either write or read fanfiction and maybe cosplay too. you LIVE for the found family trope, and also probably ship them with captain 3. you have amazing taste :]

neo agent 3: you think lil buddy is the most adorable creature to walk the planet. you wish their initial outfit was actually accessible in the game. you’ve probably only played splatoon 3

cap’n cuttlefish: you’re an og who’s been around since splatoon 1 but still know next to nothing about the lore. you don’t main a weapon, and instead prefer to bounce around. you are… an inscrutable crackhead who i want to study

dj octavio: you’re willing to die on the hill that he is not a villain and only did what he did to support his people [you’re right btw]. you’re actually really chill and fun and i have a lot of respect for you. also, i’m liable to believe that you ship him with cuttlefish, don’t you? DON’T YOU?!?

commander tartar: you’re… ME??? villainous characters are always your favorites. you think octo expansion is a masterpiece [and you’re entirely right]. you’re a splatoon scholar and scour every obscure twitter post and artbook note to satiate your hunger for that sweet sweet lore. there’s something deeply wrong in your head.

mr. grizz: you play a lot of salmon run but are actually kinda bad at it [shhh i won’t tell]. you suffered through after alterna just for his backstory log and the bear ears. i’m going to go out on a limb here and say… you have daddy issues

smollusk: you LOVE the idea that marina and pearl are its adoptive moms. you’ve beaten side order with every palette. you overuse the “🥺” emoji. you miiight be a little annoying, but your heart is in the right place… probably

acht: either the chillest person you’ll ever meet or the most insane. probably both. you’re 100% queer and probably neurodivergent too. i bet you listen to will wood and / or tally hall. i wanna be your friend

harmony: you know every chirpy chips song by heart. you’re probably really sweet and i know you make banger fanart. you have an affinity for cute things and i bet your favorite pokémon type is fairy. DEFINITELY neurodivergent.

cq cumber: ???you both confuse and frighten me!!! what can i even say? you’re a cryptid! but honestly, you’re kinda iconic. i salute you, you freak of nature🫡

iso padre: I LOVE YOU. you’re accepting of all people and are just an absolute saint in general. daddy issues, but you’re coping way better than the grizz fans. also, i’m betting that you’re neurodivergent

sheldon: i didn’t think you existed, but turns out that you do? you actually listen to his rambles. splatoon 2 is your favorite game in the series. you’re able to see the value in things that others tear down and y'know what? i respect that [not saying i approve of your character choice though]

judd: wait, why him? ohh wait, i know! you probably just don’t care about splatoon’s story at all and / or love cats. there, that’s totally it, right?

lil judd: you either DON’T know his lore and just like the cute little kitten, or you DO know his lore and you’re unhinged. i’m scared of you

spyke: you’d bark for him without hesitation and DON’T pretend you wouldn’t. you clown. you absolute freak. i know what you are. /j

murch: if i had to bet, you’re probably the shy type who prefers to let others do the talking for them. you might secretly be a little freaky though, and i think you should embrace that side of yourself. you’re safe here. be free.

[roninreverie]

Kamui Woods' tragic backstory that was made into a documentary

I've got side character brainrot, so watch me make it everyone else's problem. Help me come up with some more ideas, or let me know your favorite theory!

THEORY #1:

He is a tree who gained a Quirk and sentience

(Kind of like what happened with Principal Nezu)

Personally am not a fan of this theory because I feel like his name and ambitions would be a little different or people would mention it more as jokes/jabs/or from flat-out astonishment.

But I'm not ruling it out.

THEORY #2:

His home faced the tragedy, he just lived through it.

He is from Kagoshima Prefecture, so using the vague location as a clue:

He could be from Yakushima:

(AKA, the island inspiring the forest in Princess Mononoke - could tie into his name translation "God of the Woods")

Has a vast forest with some of the oldest trees around

See: Yaku-sugi (Jōmon-sugi).

Has a lot of hot springs (not relevant, just happy for him)

Native with rhododendron

(See costume: if flowers are supposed to be rhododendron and not roses).

He could be from the Mangrove Primeval Forest on Amami Island:

Amami has the Kanoya Rose Gardens

(See costume: belt attachment is made of roses)

2nd largest forest of mangroves in Japan

(Lot of trees, water, and kayaking)

* Both areas are near active volcanoes and subject to typhoons:

Is tragedy related to typhoons, floods, volcanoes, or another type of natural disaster?

See driftwood compatibility: If ships/ water are involved, his wood Quirk could've allowed him to float to safety for several days, being enough hope in the face of tragedy to spark the documentary.

THEORY 4:

Pirates/ boat-related tragedy, also includes being marooned, held hostage, and gives him a newfound sense of justice against villains.

Buuut I feel like he would have maybe joined a mariner-related field if his hero origins involved pirates.

THEORY #5:

Wood was harvested for harsh winters without consent like a sort of body-farm situation that was eventually liberated.

Like if he had bad parents or his whole family was a part of some sort of servitude angle?

He only started counting his birthday/ age recently, so there are a number of reasons why he never celebrated it?

(A little too dark for me, and may be a little influenced by the DNA chambers Yamato Tenzo grew up with in Naruto.)

THEORY #6:

Abandoned in the woods and grew up as a little feral nature child.

Also plays into the "just started counting my age" angle.

EDIT: from the prototype sketch rough translations, this kind of sounds like what happened, though I don't know if the tragedy ends there or with his adopted family.

THEORY #7:

Related to his appearance.

Shinji is very secretive of his appearance, mainly his mouth area that is constantly hidden by a mask or scarf. It's possible, he just likes his privacy, buuuut... theories anyway:

He could be made of wood all over, have branch/limb-like teeth that are unsettling to others, a nutcracker jaw, Ghibli Forest Spirit face, or have a nod to a skin condition like Epidermodysplasia that he was ridiculed for as a kid, so now keeps his face hidden?

That's all the theories I think I've got. Feel free to share more if you have ideas too!

[doromoni]

Hunting Affections | CL16 , ?

Ships : Charles Leclerc x photographer! reader.

? x photographer! reader

Genre : fanfic + smau fic

faceclaim: Hwang Eunbi

warning : just a lil angsty

A/N : UP FOR EDITING 🤍

Part 1 : next>

Summary : Love is only just connections of neurons that take part in the brain … and yet, why is it the most painful when one falls alone?

or

Loving someone who doesn’t love you back , until you can’t no more. Maybe then they’ll actually know what they’ve lost.

y/n_stills.

Liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, maxverstappen1 , and 466,789 others

y/n_stills. Yo, @scuderiaferrari when do I get paid? Asking for a friend :DD

carlossainz55 niña , did you just…

y/n_stills. What? I need to eat @carlossainz55

landonorris our catering says otherwise

user1 lando u-

user2 lando woke up and chose violence

y/n_stills. U wanna take that back, kinder? @landonorris

landonorris yes ma’am, I apologize 😭

user2 Nvm i take it back

scuderiaferrari We’re.not.your.employer

user3 Y/N AND HER CONTINUES FEUD WITH FERRARI I CANNOT HAHAHHAA

y/n_stills. @user3 nahh ~ they luv me 😎

user4 Only Y/N, I swear.

mercedesamgf1 our garage is always open for you @y/n_stills.😉

user5 ariana what are you doing here??

user6 please do adopt y/n , she doesn’t bite… alot.

y/n_stills. @mercedesamgf1 🫣 I am on my way!

olliebearman @y/n_stills. where is the loyalty? Don’t leave me and @arthur_leclerc pls.

y/n_stills. Lmao ciáo~ @olliebearman

mclaren our food in exchange for race pictures 🤝

y/n_stills. DEAL! 🤝

oscarpiastri welcome to the team @y/n_stills. !

landonorris Noooooooo! my stoopwafels :(((

y/n_stills. This is why I love @oscarpiastri more than you @landonorris

user7 Big oof for lando, penalty for ocon.

redbullracing still visiting the garage next GP?

y/n_stills. You bet! or a certain driver will be all pouty and moody, we wouldn’t like that now do we @redbullracing?

user8 Y/N IS GOING TO REDBULL??!!

user9 holdupppp, a certain driver ?? Girl you—

user10 y/n please leave some for us 🥹

user11 y/n doesn’t collect f1 drivers, she collects f1 teams

liked by y/n_stills.

charles_leclerc

Liked by y/n_stills. , carlossainz55, scuderriaferrari and 1,537,157 others

charles_leclerc Race ready 💪

user1 Let’s go for podium!!

user2 Forza Ferrari!

scuderriaferrari Let’s go!

y/n_stills. Good luck out there Cha! ❤��

user3 oop… a soft y/n?

user4 feral y/n doesn’t exist when it comes to Charles

user1 wait… didn’t y/n take these photos?

user3 she did! Saw it on her ig posts

user1 then why did charles nor tag or give her credit?

user2 woah woah… that’s an L charles ://

user5 attentiones plagiarism 🔔‼️

user5 @charles_leclerc if you don’t bag @y/n_stills. Someone else will.

Liked by maxverstappen1

user6 YO?! Max liked the comment?!!

user7 What??

y/n.exe (y/n private account)

navi.exe I’ll start my goodbye by saying I love you.

***

It’s not smart to post something so personal on the internet, but I never said I was smart on the first place, now did I? Because would a smart person stay where they are hurt the most?

“Y/N! Lets go the race is starting, you’ll miss your shots” A random Ferrari engineer startled me out of my thoughts — I would’ve known who that was if they we’re to stay a second longer, but much like the rest the person blended into the garage where it functioned in the systematic chaos that ensues every race.

Grabbing my camera , I stood up went out to take portraits of the person who doesn’t appreciate my work nor appreciate my person.

No, I am smart, love just makes the most intelligent of people stupid.

[beanghostprincess]

ShuggyUta family is so cute and funny bc like.

One one hand - AAAA CUTE Uta one day having the EPIPHANY that half of her hair is WHITE, and HAIR DYE EXISTS so she hunts down the closest blue to Buggy's hair. She dyes it in the middle of the night, and either comes out next morning completely casual OR bursts out like "DAD, PAPA, LOOK NOW I HAVE BOTH OF YOU WITH ME :DD"

They both implode immediately ((and Buggy gives her the "The sentiment is so sweet baby, but remember you never ever have to change your appearance to be worthy of love. If you want to, want it for yourself, okay? We love you no matter what" talk))

Then there's also the shenanigans.

Buggy: .... whatchya got there?

Shanks and Uta, both holding one of Luffy's hands, holding cups in the other: ........ smoothies?

<><><><><>

Buggy: Shanks so help me, I TOLD YOU not to get another kid-

Shanks: whaaaaaat? Hahaha, no Bugaboo. You told me very specifically I am not to adopt another child :))

Buggy: so why are there two new children in the kitchen

Luffy: I adopted them!

Uta: we have big brothers now!

Shanks:

Buggy:

Shanks: you told me not to adopt anyone. You didn't tell Lu or Uta.

Buggy: alright. That one's on me.

<><><><><>

Rayleigh, surprise visiting his kids: hello my children, I have swam across the Grandline- is that a kid?

Buggy, Uta on one hip, Sabo on his shoulders, Luffy on his back and Ace clinging to his leg and glaring death at Ray: four, actually.

Ray:

Buggy:

Ray: I'm a grandpa? And you didn't TELL ME??

<><><><><>

Shanks: happy mothers day, Bug!

Buggy: i'm... not a woman?

Shanks: maybe not but you ARE a botto-

Buggy: punches him I'm keeping the roses and chocolates

<><><><><>

Buggy and Shanks teaching them the pirates code, weapons, Haki, sailing, navigation, etc.

Shanks has a moment of "is it really okay to have them on the ship? We were in danger, Bug, it hurt us, what if we're hurting THEM-??"

Buggy smacks him. "We're learning from our dads' mistakes, Red. It's not perfect. We're not perfect. We just need to be the best we can and always put them first. We need to communicate. If we leave them, we can't protect them. If we leave, they'll be on their own. This is the lesser evil. We need to have their security as our priority. We're pirates, but we're parents, too. We can not commit to one over the other, but we can't let it hurt our babies. They're ours now. We are NOT leaving them behind."

<><><><><>

Ace gets a crash course in his history. It's rocky at first, but it's only bc he asks Buggy and Shanks ((separately, mind you)) about "if Gold Roger Had A Kid".

Buggy responds with a snort. "I mean, he kinda had two? But if we had another, then word, I guess? I'd be a little annoyed."

"Bc of his blood?"

"What? No. I'd be pissed that Captain didn't tell me. Asshole move, that. Why do you ask, freckles?"

Shanks, meanwhile, just shrugs. "Ya know how they say blood is thicker than water?"

"... yeah?"

"Yeah, it's bullshit. I wouldn't really care. If Captain had a kid, that's just not my business. I bled with him, for him, and he did for me. I think of him as my father, so I guess that would be sort of like... a little sibling, maybe? But it'd be up to the kid. Your blood doesn't define you, Ace. That's a lesson all good pirates know."

"......... mm."

<><><><><>

Sabo, no warning, in the middle of dinner: I'm a runaway noble.

Shanks: oh neat.

Buggy: oh? Which family? Want me to rob them for you?

Sabo: you aren't mad???

Uta, shrugging: it doesn't matter. You're still a feral jungle brat. Besides, if anyone in the family passes as a fancy pants noble, it's me!

Buggy: 🤨

Uta: ... and mama Bug. I guess.

Luffy: I don't care. Sabo is Sabo.

Ace: yeah, what he said.

Buggy: I will still rob them though.

<><><><><>

That's all I got rn baaaaiiii

Help these are all great 😭 You made my day with this <3

They just keep adopting kids and expanding the family. When they grow up, they get their partners and Zoro, Yamato, Koala, and Perona are there 24/7 because these kids cannot have a normal relationship that isn't based on codependency and both Shanks and Buggy have to deal with four more people around.

Ace telling them he is Roger's child and Sabo telling them he is a noble??? That kills me. They'd be so supportive and protective of them, too. It kills me.

Also, Buggy would ADORE these kids. Rayleigh comes over and sees the whole thing and Shanks thinks he's going to be angry because they didn't tell him but the man is just amazed they managed to have a family of their own without fucking up. Buggy keeps saying it was thanks to him because Shanks wouldn't have been able to do it on his own and, like, everybody agrees.

[sga-owns-my-soul]

Fic Idea Adoption!

i have way too many ideas for fics and i know i won't ever get around to writing them all so i'm putting some ideas up for adoption!! i may or may not write these eventually, but they're too good of ideas to leave sitting in my notes app forever, so i'm releasing them to the void! anyone and everyone is welcome to use them, and feel free to be as ambiguous with the prompts as you want! no particular order but nsfw ideas are at the bottom for anyone who wants to avoid them!

(if you do use any of these, i would love to read the fic!! you definitely do not have to but please feel free to send me anything you write off this list!!)

-john takes rodney to earths moon

-john and rodney find the ancient equivalent of speed. they do Everything

-au where ronon gets earth to repeal dadt bc john tells him it's why he can't be with rodney and ronon goes I Must Fix This (he enlists teyla and lorne and maybe cadman)

-rodney asks ronon to go with john to earth (outcast coda)

-rodney goes on bill nye saves the world after stargate declassification

-evans biggest fear is having to shoot john (and maybe getting a promotion bc of it?) and john finds out

-rodney’s ‘torture too hideous and intimate to recount’ is him being tortured, just for them to realize that torturing his team is a better way to break him

-teyla living out ‘the chosen one’ trope

-what happens to sora after the eye

-au where meredith(female!rodney) comes to atlantis instead of rod and not only is rodney horribly disturbed, he’s furious (and strangely confused) as to why everyone apparently likes him more as a woman

-todd is weirdly obsessed with this strange human he meets, and is determined to get closer to him

-the team is most excited about catching up with todd when they get the confirmation atlantis is going back to pegasus

-everyone complains about rodney’s moods bc no one can complain about the infinitely worse in every way sheppard bad moods, that make everyone on the base wish they were on a hive ship being eaten by two wraith at once

-au where ronon ends up on athos at the same time the wraith come and he sneaks through the gate with the intention of just sneaking away on the next planet but whoops it’s atlantis (ronon pov)

-rodney keeps a memorial for every single scientist lost in his lab and radek shows it to new scientists who start complaining about rodney not caring and risking their lives

-reaper au where’s he’s fed the fuck up with these two stupid men who never actually die when they’re supposed to and it’s more annoying than anything now bc he still needs to show up

-au carson comes to atlantis and is HORRIFIED by becketts retrovirus research and the hoffan drug bc “does the hippocratic oath mean NOTHING here???”

-au where rodney can’t admit to himself what john means to him, until something happens that brings all the alternate rodney’s that have lost their johns to atlantis, and they all fall apart when they see john alive, and john and rodney have to have a Conversation (mcshep? maybe ambiguous? idk yet)

-rodney sees john as three separate entities: the Colonel, who is Professional Important Official Man; sheppard, who is his friend/team lead that he hangs out with and goes on missions with; and john, who he’s always seeming to have very intimate moments with that make him question a lot of how he feels

-early days in the city, elizabeth is sick of the marines shitting on the scientists for not being tough and the scientists for shitting on the marines for not being smart so she makes them try to solve a fake crisis from the other side and everyone is like aww shit this is harder than it looks

-that thing where tough men pretend they don’t care much about someone but then the person gets hurt and Tough Guy go a little feral and then holds them close and whisper pet names (sweetheart, baby, darling, etc) but it’s john and/or ronon after rodney gets injured

-the more important something is to john, the harder it is for him to talk about it, and rodney starts to realize how hard it is for john to talk about what rodney means to him

-a bunch of au sheppards get brought to atlantis and one on them is terrified of flying

-rodney has always said biology was beneath him, but then ford almost died, and was… different, from the wraith. and rodney knew he had to find a way to help ford, maybe find a way to fix his mental problems while keeping the physical benefits. rodney and carson find a way to save ford and sheppard is so thankful he kisses them both

nsfw ideas:

-ronon suggests some planets for trading when they get low on supplies that have an interesting trade system. it seems too good to be true and they wonder why telya hasn't taken them until they find out that they trade goods for sex

-au where john is hired as a spy for atlantis and he seduces people in pegasus to get intel for the city

-sometimes rodney just grabs john (by the hair, throat, back of the neck, chin, etc) and asks who he belongs to and john instantly melts

-rodney decides to be a tease on a mission and teyla and ronon think mckay is just really pissing sheppard off when he pulls mckay away for “privacy” but really he’s just super horny and wants to fuck (or, teyla and ronon don’t realize that their fighting is foreplay)

[the-owl-tree]

I wish that warriors made the point of like, one reason u don't want to be a kittypet is bc sometimes when u get caught u get sent to this place where theres more cats in small crates and sometimes you see humans there but only the good cats get adopted and its very much known that cats only have a certain amount of time for a human to choose them before they get euthanized

Because yeah TNR is sometimes an option but humane euthanasia is another, maybe a clan cat encounters a kittypet and they talk about their time in a shelter and how a feral cat wasn't capable of being turned to a pet so they euthanized them that would scare the shit outta me and i would never get close to a kittypets house again

Like the clan cats say "reject the soft life of a kittypet' but do they have even that? Completely at the whims of their owners, and at any point they could be given away for a variety of reasons, like oh sure they always have food and a house to go back to and have better medicine options but honestly, what choice do they have thats truely their own and not their owners? They could've put more emphasize that kittypet life was an easy but more risky choice of a clan cat to choose if they didn't like their current life. Sure there IS a chance that you could get adopted and in a loving home but theres also a bigger chance u get taken to a shelter and not all shelters are non kill ones

I generally think the idea that the Clan cats would reject a kittypet life is actually fairly understandable, though rarely explored beyond fatphobia and xenophobia. It makes sense to me that these cats would value their autonomy (even if for whatever reason the authors are weird about like. giving the clan cats freedom) and freedom, whereas comparatively safety and lack of challenge in hunting for food would be a decent enough lure/reason to stay for other cats.

I also think humans in this universe are pretty awful at handling cats, Graystripe didn't even get snipped before getting shipped off to be a housecat lol

[starwarsanthropology]

Heyyy~

Can I ask for OrdoMaze with 43? :3

The stark, neon lighting of the Coursucant night-cycle is an abrupt shift from the muted golden lights in the bar as Ordo slips out to follow after Maze, a few minutes after he leaves. Just enough lag between exits to keep Kal’buir and the RCs off of them. 

He tracks Maze via his comm’s location tag a few blocks over to a quiet, back alley speeder platform about ten feet above street level. Maze is sitting on the edge of it, leaning on crossed arms against the low bumper rail. 

“Null.” He says, looking over Ordo appraisingly.

“Alpha,” Ordo replies, and then clambers up a drainage pipe to join him.

Maze snorts gently when a screw pings out of the wall, too much weight put on the bracket holding the pipe secure, and Ordo glares at him as he grabs the edge of the balcony to haul himself up and over. The duracrete has a slightly tacky, powdery feel, a decade’s worth of emissions building up into sediment that feels somehow grimier than actual dirt on Ordo’s bare palms. He tries to wipe them off on his kama once he’s seated next to Maze, and then scowls and pulls out a wipe when that doesn’t work.

Maze just watches him, quiet, and then once he stuffs the wipe back into a belt pouch to throw out later, he leans his warm bulk against Ordo’s side. Coruscant doesn’t have much in the way of natural weather patterns, as climate-controlled as it is, but this close to a major skyroad, the vehicles send strong, cutting winds whistling through the buildings. In his armor, Maze feels like a bulwark. Stable, safe. Somewhere nice to hunker down until he has to move on to the next objective.

“So, Besany?” Maze asks, and Ordo checks him lightly with his shoulder. “She’s a good one.”

“Mm. Kal’buir is very eager about us.” Ordo says. “He doesn’t realize that she’s not romantically interested in men.”

Maze laughs, startled. “He’s not very good with people, is he?”

“He’s great with them when it matters.”

“He thinks Besany is flirting with you instead of trying to adopt you like you’re a feral tooka she found dropping presents on her doorstep.” 

Ordo doesn’t have anything else to say, and appearantly neither does Maze, so they spend a long while simply leaning against each other and watching the debris of a city of trillions get buffeted around in the breeze.

“Maze?” Ordo says, eventually. “How good are you for getting read into something confidential? Off the record.”

Maze looks him over, considering. “Is breaking opsec going to compromise anything?”

“No. Only reputations.”

Maze perks up at that. He’s such a gossip, really. All the Alphas are; nosy bastards to their cores, trained to keep track of all their subordinates like mother hens. 

“Read me in, Ord’ika.” He says, and Ordo is almost ashamed when he opens his mouth and the words spill out.

“General Tur-makan got herself pregnant.”

“No.” Maze gasps, scandalized. 

“Mmhm. Kal’buir is furious about it. Maybe would have killed her if it wasn’t for the fact she’s carrying.” 

“Who’s the father?”

Ordo closes his eyes and takes a deep, centering breath. “Darman.”

“Does he know?”

“No.”

“Don’t think so.”

“That’s karked.” Maze says, awed. 

“Yeah. Kal’buir is shipping her off to Quiilura to wait it out.” Ordo shuffles closer to Maze, who rocks just enough to bump their shoulders before leaning back into him.

“You should tell Dar. Not when it could compromise him, but it’s his to know.”

“Kal’buir is handling it.”

“Skirata is a poor judge of when to share intel. There’s a reason he’s only a sergeant.”

Ordo, suddenly furious, both at Maze for throwing that in his face, and himself, for taking foolish initiative to confide in him, snarls and snaps his fist into Maze’s face. “That’s my father.”

Maze groans from his position knocked flat on his back on the speeder platform, and then snaps upright to slam his forehead right into Ordo’s nose.

Ordo makes a furious, inarticulate noise, hand flying to his face, and Maze just looks him in the eye, steady and calm and ready to drop everything for a fight.

“I’m right. I’m smarter than him. You’re smarter than him. We’re bred to be.”

The bridge of Ordo’s nose aches fiercely, and his nose is gushing after so many strikes to the face in short succession. He pinches it to slow the flow and leans forwards, breathing through his mouth and watching Maze out the corner of his eye. Maze’s nose is bleeding, too, but it’s just a single fat drop slowly traveling down his lip. It shimmers in the light as his breath makes it quiver; Maze’s nose wrinkles up at the ticklish sensation and he wipes it with a knuckle. Ordo is caught by the sight of blood smeared on his lover’s hands and face, almost invisible in the lighting except for how it leaves a damp, shiny smear over his skin. He wants to lick it off. He wants there to be more. He wants, he wants. He doesn’t know what he wants, but it sharpens his teeth and sends off a round of howling hunger in his gut.

He tamps down the feeling.

“I’ll tell Dar, if Kal’buir takes too long.” He concedes, slightly nasal through his bloody nose, and Maze smiles at him, irritated expression melting into something warm and fond. Ordo wants to choke him.

“Good boy, Ord’ika,” Maze says, and instead of choking him, it’s Ordo who chokes on his outrage as Maze tilts up his chin and kisses him, ignoring the blood dripping down his face and into their mouths. He bites him in retaliation, hard enough to split his lip and add Maze’s blood to his between them, and Maze’s hand grips his face and squeezes until he opens his mouth and keeps it open, maintaining a careful threat of pressure at the hinge of his jaw as Maze kisses him stupid.

Ordo is gasping and wheezing by the time Maze pulls away, his nose whistling from where it's clogged with blood. He can taste it down to his lungs, the thick, metallic coating over his airways and mouth and throat. He hopes Maze can taste him in the same way, vindictive or victorious, as he catches his breath, reeling back from the intensity of it.

Mazes laughs, breathless, and Ordo snaps a sharp look to him. It just makes Maze laugh harder, and he leans forwards to cup Ordo’s face in his hands and press a kiss against his forehead. 

“You’ve got— a little—” Maze chuckles, and gestures over the lower half of his face. In the dim lighting, he can’t see color very well, but he abruptly registers the slightly darker shades and wet shine over Maze’s mouth, chin, cheeks. He’s covered in blood from their kiss.

“You, too.” Ordo tells him, and dabs lightly at his face to map the limits of the tacky smear over his lips, chin, neck. There’s a spot at his forehead, too,  where Maze had pressed another bloody kiss to his skin.

“Damn. Let’s clean up, and then I’ll take you back to bed?”

“Only if I get to bloody you up again.” Ordo says, and holds his hand out for a wipe.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It looks good on you.”

[frie-ice]

Since I had also done a screengrabs post on Merida and Scar, from the trailer they appeared in together, and have used the screengrabs from the post on Belle and Sulley for their ship week Battle Partners collage, it only seemed fair to do one on these two as well. Since I have planned to feature them as friends through the Scar!Reform/Redeemed AU, and Mirrorverse is one of those crossover games that have heroes and villains as allies, @twisting-echo suggested that they should be presented as adoptive father-daughter. Along with her suggesting that their crossover familyship title could be Meridar or Scarida. She points out that Scar wouldn't have simply nodded in respect to just anyone, like he did in the trailer after Merida took out the Fractureds that were behind him. Making Merida the reason Scar decided to be a better person, or lion in his case. Merida has been featured in a few feral AU's, that mostly have her being raised by bears, so I could see that happening. 

[shinygemstone]

HERE IS A LIST OF THE 30 MAIN KIPO AUs I WANT BUT WILL NEVER HAVE BECAUSE THE FANFIC COMMUNITY IS TINY IN ORDER OF SPOILERINESS (FEWEST SPOILERS FIRST OBVIOUSLY)

1. An AU where Kipo doesn't end up on the surface in the first episode, and has to go through the events with the mega monkey still looking for her

2. An AU in which all of Kipo's people are actually dead, and she's the only survivor. Depression for everyone!!

3. An AU where Margot never betrayed Wolf, and the two have a very close and codependent relationship. Bonus points if Wolf gets kidnapped by Scarlemagne

4. An AU where Wolf's wolf parents never actually betrayed her and raised her alongside the other children. Wolf girl wolf.

5. AU where the protagonists end up separated after Ratland, with Kipo and Benson trying their best to escape Scarlemagne's place without Scarlemagne realizing they're there while Wolf, Mandu, and Dave try to save them

6. AU like #1, except Lio fucking dies and Kipo's body now assumes it is in danger a lot more. So now she's dealing with the mega monkey and turning into the mega jaguar

7. Kipo gets along a little too well with the timbercats, and they kind of adopt her. Parental Yumyan and Molly. They're not surprised to find out she's part cat and teach her how to properly kitty

8. In which Lio turns out to be the mega monkey, somehow.

9. In which Kipo was raised on the surface, and is kind of known as the local feral half cat creature. Naturally, Scarlemagne kidnaps her for weapon usage and oops. Guess he has to teach the feral out of her

10. In which Jamack joins the protagonists (if you didn't think my man would be here you're wrong)

11. Let Kipo get upset about the whole mega jaguar thing PLEASE

12. Song and Lio raise Kipo, while Song is suppressing the mutagen and struggling more and more as she gets older.

13. Song turns out to fill Dr. Emilia's role, and is actually trying to end mutekind.

14. Emilia gets her hands on Kipo, but mistakes her for a normal human (somehow) so Kipo grows up in the science burrow believing mutes killed her parents and that what Emilia is doing is justified. Bonus points if she's Emilia's protege/assistant/intern

15. Emilia gets her hands on Kipo, knowing that she's Song and Lio's daughter, and decides she can use Kipo as a weapon. This would involve a lot of dehumanization and likely good brother Scarlemagne/Hugo. Also Lio? Totally dead

16. AU where Lio manages to yoink Hugo. That's the AU. Hugo and Lio and Kipo as family.

17. AU #16 with angst: Lio gets captured, so it's just Hugo and Kipo. Bonus points if Kipo grows up in Ratland

18. For even more angst, Scarlemagne kidnaps Kipo, raising her in his blooming empire. Except Scarlemagne has no idea how to raise a child, especially not one who's half mega jaguar.

19. Where Mulholland doesn't help Kipo, and Scarlemagne's coronation goes as planned.

20. Where Emilia kidnapping the mutes was a trap, and it works as planned. Kipo is in for such a bad time.

21. Where what Emilia did to the mutes she kidnapped mutes is a lot more horrific than in cannon.

22. WOLF BOTHERS TO REPLACE STALKY

23. Margot changes her mind about betraying Wolf sooner, and Emilia never captures any of the protagonists. Consequently, Emilia sneaks into timbercat village to conduct her evil plans.

24. Instead of Yumyan, Kipo gets hit by the cure. Consequently, the decision is made to have the mega jaguar deal with all subsequent human incidents. This prevents It's a Trap from happening.

25. Kipo gets hit by the cure, except it works. No more mega jaguar, but she gets back to timbercat village.

26. Kipo goes through with sinking the cruise ship. Insert huge crisis (and maybe Song, Lio, or both of them rejecting Kipo/treating her like a monster. Please. I live for angst)

27. AU where Dave kills child Benson, and is a reoccurring side character who's literally just a bastard

28. Fun Gus Monster Emilia. Like just IMAGINE if she took Gus' DNA instead of the mega walrus. Sludge monsters are underrated imo, and she could do so much fucking damage.

29. Emilia gets stuck as a half mute, and gets shoved in prison. Maybe with Hoag.

30. SCARLEMAGNE LIVES