#I used a clan generator to get most of the names and designs (besides the ones i already had in mind)

[bees-design-blog]

I finally designed my whole clan from the story i have spining around in my head!! (Except the pov’s cause I already have them designed) if I animate them one day i will have to tone down there designs a bit, especially the scars i may have to give cats only one or two as i am not animating all that lol. Also tw for some injuries that have healed on cats, hungry cats and one sick cat in case you don’t want to see that

Any disabled cats are allowed to be warriors to the best of there abilities fennelberry (the cream cat who is paralyzed) stays in camp most of the time due to fear of her hurting herself in there mostly snowy and rocky home but is considered a full warrior and mostly helps in camp when she is able and wants to. Hollystripe (the blind elder) was a blind warrior for many moons before retiring.

(also the gray warrior/queen in this time period ashspot i forgor to give any scars but I’ll probably update that at some point)

winterclan sees scars and white/pale colored or even rock colored cats as the most attractive ones and shows an ability to survive in there cold mountain home.

(Basically they value a ability to blend in and the proof of power scars bring)

[ettadunham]

person who only ever played elden ring: 'wow this is just like elden ring'.

okay, for context: rune 2000 does not in fact play as a souls game. but it does have some level design ideas that are still carried over to this day in games such as those. but i got ahead of myself.

rune is a good old action adventure game set in the vikings era, seemingly before vikings were cool and hip in our contemporary pop culture. at least that's what i assume based on how differently names and words like hel and jarl are pronounced here. you play as ragnar, whose first day as a warrior went to absolute shit, when another clan leader killed all his buddies, including his father. so now he's being guided by odin himself as he fights his way out of hel's domain and even confronts loki themselves, who's doing the absolute best and most voice acting in the game btw.

oh yeah, and you get your health back by eating lizards. or other food, but my favorite part is where you pick up a skull from the ground, chug it at a lizard that's just chilling on the wall above, and eat it once it falls down. 10/10 mechanic.

gameplay-wise this was a rather interesting experience even beside the flawless lizard diet. i was pleasantly surprised by the combat in this game and how good it felt. it wasn't perfect, and there were some frustrations i had, but overall, the responsiveness, the animations and the variety was pretty satisfying. there's a number of weapons you can use, all with differing properties and special attacks, but also... this game has jump attacks! they figured out jump attacks in a 3d world setting in 2000! incredible work!

apart from combat there is also some platforming, and you just generally need to navigate a world that is interesting and mostly well-designed, but also rather confusing. i definitely got that walkthrough out multiple times, because i didn't notice a breakable wall or thought that i already explored a room that just looked similar. still, i enjoyed a lot of the exploration regardless. there's even a section with the classic upside down trick! neat! just like elden ring! 😂

this is also a game from before we decided that you get your healthbar back after dying. basically, if you die in rune, you only go back to your previous save state, and if you had a tiny healthbar at that point... well, tough luck! i definitely softlocked myself multiple times... is what i would say if i didn't manage to eventually do a no-hit run on those sections in the end! or just load a previous save file. both are valid options.

saving regularly is also just a good idea overall. there's a chapter at the end that basically breaks the game... unless you mute the sound there! god, i love video games and how they are all basically held together by duct tape and dark magic.

anyway, long story short, spoiler alert, etc, this game ends with you crossing the rainbow bridge, a fitting reward to end your journey. (unless you wish to continue playing pvp online, which... idk if those servers still exist? lmk i guess.)

good times all around!

ps: bonus fact, the developer of this game is also responsible for the infamous the quiet man from a couple of years back. truly, they have the range.

[littlest-salomon]

Wild fan theory:

So, yeah, us not getting to hear much about their home lives makes Shiro, Kengo, and Ryota a bit more relatable... but in a lazy way, and the Housamo creators are rarely (if ever) lazy. What if the reason that we don't know many details about their families is because there'd be too many spoilers?

What if they're all descended from their Sacred Artifacts' Exceptions?

Among the other human characters, Arc, Claude, and Licht are each confirmed to share one of their ethnicities--at the very least--with the original bearer(s) of their Sacred Artifacts. Arc, in particular, was born into a cult that seems to have designed them for an experiment intended to open up human summoners to possession by their Exceptions (iirc). Even more connections may exist that don't need to be stated in such a way because both human and Artifact are connected to Japan: a few people, like Kenta, have Transients/Artifacts known to preferentially (or exclusively) select new summoners from their original masters' family lines in real folklore.

Now for our boys:

Toji doesn't just own his Exception's Sacred Artifacts: since the swords are never summoned outside the Sakimori clan, scores of other people inside them may have qualified to be the Exception, and the two men share a striking resemblance, Yukimura is most likely a blood relative and (to me at least) seems meant to be interpreted as Toji's direct ancestor. This one got me thinking about the others, because the relationship is all but textual.

The Protagonist's reaction upon seeing Thor for the first time is "wow, he looks exactly like Kengo" (something that doesn't come up with Oniwaka) and several different people throughout the Ikebukero dungeon reiterate that Thor and Kengo are just like father and son. What if they are--or, perhaps, ancestor and greatest grandchild? Unless Housamo gods have Percy Jackson genetics, it'd mean Kengo was part white, but like... he's almost 6 feet tall with a beard before age 20, it wouldn't be a huge surprise. For his part, Thor has children with a few different people in myth and, while my cursory search didn't reveal any human partners, one of the things that Marvel got right is that he loves humanity with his whole heart.

In "The Dunwich Horror," one of the Lovecraft tales most clearly tied to the author's childhood trauma, Yog-Sothoth's (almost successful) scheme is to sire a human/god hybrid to find the Necronomicon and use it to summon him so that he in turn can help his own father, Azathoth, destroy the planet. This happens in Housamo--but instead of Wilbur Whateley, the Necronomicon's owner is Shiro, who reports an eerily similar childhood of alienation and escape into books and his own intellect to those of Whateley, Lovecraft, and Yog-Sothoth himself. Yog-Sothoth probably just chooses to look like a grown-up version of Azathoth in Housamo because his true form is way past the boundaries of "anthropomorphic" or "body" or "corporeal," so it really doesn't matter what Shiro looks like for this thought experiment.

I don't know anything about the Fisher King (yet?) besides the TV Trope named after him; I'm also largely unfamiliar with Holy Grail legends in general, and I haven't gotten enough keys to play the Aoyama dungeon yet... so poor Ryota gets left out. For now. I have read on Tumblr that the Fisher King seems nice, though, and he does look a bit like Ryota.

[bad-jujus]

Hey do you want to talk about your FFTA OCs?? I want to hear about them...

OKAY i've had this ask sitting for a week and im so sorry abt that! I admittedly do not have... much for my FFTA OCs buT what i do have I really really dig so I hope that this interests u too, anon! gonna put this under a cut just cause it might get a little long!

this is all based on characters I had during my last FFTA run and I kind of want to develop them as FFTA2 OCs as well cause I like the class selection in the second game much better. But for now here's my current somewhat developed members of Clan Nutsy!

all of their names are subject to change of course, and I do have other clan members in mind but I just haven't really drawn them at all yet FHLSD.

Mac is a White Mage, but spent a lot of his time in Clan life as a Black Mage. His last Clan before Nutsy was a rogue-ish group that hunted down bounties and targeted other Clans in Jagds, so a real nasty crew.

I have a headcanon that Black Magic affects Humes differently than Nu Mou or Moogles, who are also proficient with it. Which is why Black Mage Humes look so like... weird in comparison? Because Mac spent a lot of time involved with Black Magic and he was committing evil acts, his hands became permanently "scarred" and look all weird. they dont hurt or anything, but people would probably be super uncomfortable with seeing them.

Because of this he covers his arms in bandages, and he left his old clan on bad terms. he's kind of on the run from them because they really dont like when people leave!

At this time I like to think of him as the de-facto leader of the clan! personality-wise he's wise but hot-headed, and intelligent but absolutely stupid in some cases. His experience with various magics, though, make him a strong force to be reckoned with. He's absolutely the definition of the "I'm a healer, but-" meme

Roker is like the clan's second in command, and i ABSOLUTELY ship him and Mac. Roker is kind and strong, and wants to support his clanmates with his own two hands. He has simple motives but he has pure feelings. genuinely the best person.

My idea for him is that he used to be a part of the Castle Guard as a Templar, but abandoned that once a corrupt king came into power. He spent time as a sword-for-hire before joining Clan Nutsy as a Gladiator. both he and Mac get along in a lot of ways because they have somewhat similar backgrounds, but they butt heads since they have different approaches with most problems. They balance each other out and I love them.

Roker's dream is to someday retire and live in the country or something. he's a lovely guy and MAN i just love Bangaa in general. I have more in mind besides him but nothing really fleshed out.

Finn my BOY is a Mog Knight with a lot of Gunner abilities, so I like to think of him as having a Gunblade (even tho like obvs thats not in the game). He drinks, fucks, and overall is kind of just a fun guy to be around. But he's definitely a hard hitter on the team. I don't have much else for him but i love him.

Odonel is my Moogle Juggler! He has some Tinkerer skills as well, and he's kind of just a chaotic little fella. I adore his design a lot and I wanna draw him more and flesh him out but he's probably got the least out of this whole group in terms of concepting and stuff put into him.

and lastly my two Nu Mou! Kief is the one on the left here (art colored by my lovely partner btw!) and Elaine is the one on the right! Kief is relaxed and peaceful, a real chill guy. He specializes as an Illusionist with some interest in Beastmastery, even though he SUCKS with monsters. Elaine is transfem, and i like to think she was closeted when she joined the clan and then came out to her found family and everyone was like "fuck yeah" because that makes me happy. She is an Alchemist/Sage and she is also pretty darn powerful. I think i like the idea of her getting close to Kief, admiring his open nature and then kind of opening up to him about her gender experience and stuff. idk idk idk all very early concept stuff but it makes my heart worm.

but YEAHH thats all i rlly got so far!! if anyone has ideas im always open to them but also KJFLHDSF dont be sad if i dont go with ur ideas or smth im just here to have fun

ty for listening to me ramble if u got this far i love u

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 11 first part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Goodness)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Okay! This episode is a real slice of healthy family dynamics, not triggering in any way. [Uh if this is your first Restless Rewatch: that is sarcasm, dear readers]

Goodbye to You, Goodbye to Everything We Knew

Nie Huaisang asks why Meng Yao has to leave and Meng Yao says "I killed a guy without permission, so your brother fired me." 

Ha ha ha ha no he doesn't. But he does give Nie Huaisang a sweet, sad smile; he seems touched by NHS's distress. 

Meng Yao carefully removes Nie Huaisang's hands from his shoulders and bows to him, wordlessly signaling the change in their relationship from intimate friends to formal strangers, while Nie Huaisang looks crushed. 

They will return to intimate friendship in the future, but falsely. Meng Yao believes that truly loving a person can include destroying their family and using them as an instrument in your murder plots as long as you don't directly harm them.  Nie Huaisang eventually learns to use people just as brutally, but he doesn't lie to himself about what he's doing. This farewell may be the last harmless moment between these friends. 

Jiang Cheng is distressed by what's going on, while Wei Wuxian crosses his arms and watches, fully in Sherlock Holmes mode, instead of his more usual concerned-for-my-friend mode. This may signal mistrust of Meng Yao, who refused his initial attempt at friendship, and not in a sexy, slice-your-face-off way.  Or it may mean that he's reserving judgement on a complicated family situation. He maintains his uncharacteristic reserve through the entire encounter. 

(more behind the cut!)

Nie Huaisang runs in and asks his brother WTF happened. Nie Mingjue says "he killed my subordinate without permission, when he knows perfectly well power must flow from the ruler; it's like he didn't even read that Foucault book I gave him."

Ha ha ha actually he just yells at his brother, as if NHS doesn’t have his own relationship with Meng Yao after being wonder twink powers with him for probably a couple of years now. NHS has to sit and process his loss and confusion in silence.

As a younger sibling who would make friends with my older siblings' girlfriends and then lose those friends if they broke up, for reasons having nothing to do with why I liked their girlfriends, I super feel Nie Huaisang's pain here.

OTOH, older siblings are entitled to have break ups and not explain themselves to anyone besides their lover because that's the nature of intimacy. The moral is, uhh...don't have a family curse that makes you unreasonably angry. 

Jiang Cheng steps up to advocate for Meng Yao, because Meng Yao is injured, and because Jiang Cheng is actually a born leader who knows better than to throw away a useful subordinate. For example, even when Wei Wuxian is at his drunkest and most defiant, Jiang Cheng tries to reform him, not kick him out, only drawing the line at having unpopular zombie friends.

Wei Wuxian continues to keep his mouth shut, waiting for Nie Mingjue to calm down, and speaking only about the tactical situation. He clearly knows there's more to this story but he's pretty good at keeping his head down in a family ruckus, and we're about to learn why.

Yunmeng Town

The Yunmeng bros go home to Lotus Pier, where they are greeted in town with bows, smiles, and free stuff.

We've mostly been seeing them in their roles within the cultivation community, where Jiang Cheng is grumpy and anxious, and Wei Wuxian is sassy and iconoclastic. Here among common people, they are both charming, friendly, and polite, like the imaginary good kind of gentry.

They hear the news from a local lotus seller that the small clans are coming to the Jiang Clan for shelter, but that otherwise everything's ok, which doesn't sound like everything is ok at all. He gives Wei Wuxian a giant bag of lotuses for his sister to make soup from.

Home to Lotus Pier

All the disciples practicing in the courtyard at Lotus Pier are excited to see them, and one girl goes running to tell Jiang Yanli. Thanks to the admittedly beautiful design of Lotus Pier, she is running for a long time.

A long, long time. Getting around on all these insane walkways must be a real drag if you're not the flying sort of cultivator.

Discipline and Punish

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian immediately go and kneel while they wait for their official punishment. Jiang Cheng is kinda worried about the punishment and Wei Wuxian is like, I'm good at being punished, just let me do it. 

Much later, and for a really long fucking time

He also tries to get Jiang Cheng to stop being mad, even giving him skritches while he says they should be brothers after they die.

Which they will, as it happens, although Jiang Cheng after the Wen torture is only mostly golden-core dead, while WWX dies for real.

When Jiang Fengmian shows up Jiang Cheng starts to explain that they were with Lan Wangji, but Wei Wuxian hushes him; he is still keeping the secret of the Yin Iron. Although he's keeping it in exactly the manner that a teenager keeps their weed stash secret: immediately tell literally every teen friend about it, but keep it extra secret from everybody's parents. 

Happy Families Are All Alike

Now we get to meet Yu Ziyuan, who is generally styled Madame Yu but who I'm going to call by her name just as if she was a male character. More on that concept in a minute. She rolls up looking, smelling, feeling like a million yuan, with her two murder bitches in tow.

Her marriage is an unhappy one, and her husband does his best to avoid her and avoid conflict, lying to the kids that she's tired and then sending her away later with the same line about being tired, which is a particularly gendered kind of gaslighting. She is obviously not tired, other than being tired of Jiang Fengmian's shit.

I'm not going to say she's the worst mother ever, because parenthood in a feudal society entails a wide range of skills, many of which she has in abundance. She starts off with a relatively tender greeting to Jiang Cheng, tuning up his always-amazing sartorial style, which is exactly like her own. They are all ready for the mommy & me fashion show.

That said, she dishes out hellacious verbal abuse to everyone in her family. She targets each one in turn, making Wei Wuxian the focus of most of her ire, but without ever directly speaking to him. He is not, in her view, part of her family. 

The Stages of Family Dinner

1. Try to fix it and defuse the situation

2. Yeah no

3. Just keep your head down and be glad it’s not your turn in the hot seat

This family meal hammers home how much Wei Wuxian is not, actually, part of the family. Jiang Fengmian adopted him into the clan, and told A-Cheng and A-Yi to treat him as a sibling, but he didn't give him the Jiang name, and he didn't get his wife's approval. He also doesn’t expect him to dress like any other clan member, apparently. 

Compare this to how Lan Wangji, actual good parent, fully integrates his own adopted son into his clan and family, starting with giving him the Lan surname.  

The hits just keep coming as she goes after Jiang Cheng for being less gifted than Wei Wuxian, Yanli for performing labor for Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Fengmian for possibly begetting Wei Wuxian.

On first watching this scene I took her question "Is this how you raise someone else's son?" to mean that she thought Jiang Fengmian was being too nice to a kid who was actually an outsider, taking resources away from the real kids. But on rewatching, it's pretty clear that she's saying his favoring Wei Wuxian is evidence that Wei Wuxian is NOT someone else's son; that he's Jiang Fengmian's bastard. 

Jiang Fengmian doesn't say a thing to this, or to her mentioning WWX’s mother. This shit is why WWX is running around in the world desperate for any crumb of info he can get about his Mom; he hears about her all the goddamn time at home, but only as insults to her character.  

A Bitch is Not Wrong

Here's the thing, though; a lot of what Yu Ziyuan says is correct. 

Jiang Fengmian should be a lot more concerned about the danger to the children, and should not leave it up to the kids to decide who's going to bear that danger.

Yanli does a lot of food=love, which is ok in the right doses, but causes her to pretty extremely lose face during the whole "soup for Jin Zixuan" debacle. And her doting on Wei Wuxian is...kinda excessive. I mean, yeah, she’s more like a mom than a sister to him, but still. Running out onto an active battlefield to look for him, frex, will be a skosh too much. 

I have a dictionary too, mom

Jiang Cheng, as the future clan leader, shouldn't let his attachments affect his decision making, and should let Wei Wuxian, who's the superior cultivator, fend for himself more often. We love Jiang Cheng for those moments where he puts himself in harm's way to protect his loved ones, but it's not a good strategy. He constantly yells at Wei Wuxian for the exact same thing he does all the time himself; he just limits who he does it for.

After she roasts the shit out of everyone for these failings, she leaves, and everyone sits around being miserable and not talking about what just happened. 

Not to be gender studies-y on main but: the awful things she says to her children are really not very different from the things that Jiang Cheng says to Jin Ling, although her targeting is more adept. JC also says a lot of mean things to WWX when he’s angry. When a man says cruel or insulting things, it's often presented as real love hidden under a rough exterior. When a woman does it, she's a monster.

If you enjoy this sort of interaction you should definitely have a look at Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf and the plays of Eugene O'Neill.

Road Runner

Oh thank god, moving on

Lan Wangji is headed back to Cloud Recesses, and gets ambushed by the roadside with the most ridiculous trap this side of Wile E. Coyote.

Wen Chao thinks the "rug over a hole" trap is a good idea for someone who can literally fly.

Lan Wangji doesn't faff about with sword riding, he just fucking goes up in the air and stays there until he is good goddamn ready to come down. A hole in the sidewalk is really not going to be a problem for him. 

Wen Zhuliu does get in one kick before Lan Wanji yeets backwards away from him, in a moment that's scarier on rewatching, now that I know what Wen Zhuliu is capable of.

Wen Chao talks some smack to Lan Wangji, hilariously complaining about "your patronizing tone" to a man who has literally never spoken a word to him, IIRC, and certainly isn't speaking now. Maybe it's a mistranslation and should be "attitude," or maybe Wen Chao is just that dumb.

Apparently Wei Wuxian made a stack of talismans for Lan Wangji to take on the road with him. This talisman is a twin to the one Lan Wangji brings out way, way later in Yunping, when Wei Wuxian says "you even have kept it until now." Missing scene alert! What else did he make for him?

In Yunping this talisman is used to distract some random harmless street bullies. Here it is used against a seven-man murder squad.

This works.

Assault on Cloud Recesses

Forgettable disciple #1, Su She, comes rushing in to tell Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen that Cloud Recesses is under attack.

I'm pretty sure these dudes already know it, because they are meditating extra hard with a buttload of incense, and Lan Qiren is about to cough up some blood. So I think they're trying to hold the ward, rather than just, like, chilling while their disciples get stabbed.

Cloud Recesses is super on fire, you guys; it's going to totally burn to the ground; look at that conflagration, oh the humanity, etc.

Lan Qiren Rises to the Occasion

Ok, I like to rag on Failmaster Qiren and he is definitely an authoritarian dick a whole lot of the time, but in this scene he is fucking amazing.

He starts off worrying about Lan Wangji, not just out of affection but out of strategic planning, probably in equal parts. All three of these Lans take their clan responsibilities extremely seriously.

Then he calmly assesses the situation while imperturbable Lan Xichen freaks the fuck out. 

Lan Xichen is right to be alarmed, because he knows his uncle, he knows one of them is likely to die, and he knows that Lan Qiren will choose to take the hit.

I love, love, love Lan Qiren's physicality here; how centered and assured he is, as he holds his nephew steady and explains what is required of both of them.

Lan Xichen knows Lan Qiren is right. He is utterly fucking devastated, and all he can do to show his love...

...is to obey. 

This whole scene just. kills me.

Su She and forgettable disciple #2 are in the room for this whole conversation, and they join Lan Xichen in this deep bow. Note: I will be reminding everyone of this fact in Part 2.

Whew. This episode is a LOT. Part 2 Coming Soon!

Writing Prompt: What other goodies did Wei Wuxian put in Lan Wangji's care package before Lan Wangji hit the road without saying goodbye?

Soundtrack: 1. Michelle Branch, Goodbye to You 2. Ludacris, Stand Up

[animedaddymilkers]

Kinkmas 2020: Day 17

Prompt: Age Play w/ Shikaku

Genre: Smut/18+ || Tags: Age Play, Boss/Worker, Mutual Pining, Shower Sex, Creampie, Vaginal Sex || Characters: Shikaku Nara, Female Reader || read it on ao3 here

"(Y/N). My office. Now,” the gruff, irritated voice of your boss broke you from the paperwork you were attending to and you stood, quickly following after him.

You closed the heavy oak door behind you and smoothed your skirt out as you stood in front of his desk. Shikaku was glaring at the window, his hand stroking his facial hair. It was obvious he was fuming from something, trying to calm himself down so he wouldn’t irrationally take any anger out on you. That was just part of his personality that you adored, always so thoughtful for others and in control of his emotions. This week was rough enough for him, the anniversary of his wife’s death having been at the beginning of the week. Now, added to whatever he was upset about currently was sure to be too much for him to handle, especially alone. So, you stood there, waiting patiently and without pressure for him to speak, letting him be ready at his own pace.

“I was assigned the mission,” after five minutes of standing in silence he spoke, the words mumbled so quietly that it took you a moment to process them.

“You… that mission? Alone?! But that was supposed to be assigned to-”

“The strongest shinobi besides the Hokage. Yes. And apparently, that would be me. It’s an honor.”

“It’s a suicide mission! Surely you can’t really be expected to go alone!”

Shikaku finally turned from the window to face you, his expression as stern as always despite his initial unrest, “There’s no one else to accompany me.”

“I can go. Let me be your partner on this mission,” you were adamant in standing your ground on this, unable to accept your boss going out on such a risky mission alone.

“You’re too young.”

“And you’re too old!”

He scoffed before chuckling, catching you off guard as he heartily laughed while sinking into his office chair, “Every time I see that look in your eye and hear that fiery attitude I’m reminded of why you’re a perfect fit here,” he sighed, “I know I’m not going to change your mind on this, no matter how much I’d prefer you stay here safe and sound. But, I admire your tenacity, my little fawn. We leave in four days.”

You sighed and sat down in the chair on the other side of his desk, taking in the fact that he agreed to your offer before continuing, “Thank you, I’ll do my best to support you. We’ll come back. Together.”

“Mm, with you by my side I’d fight to the ends of the earth. But, you have been neglecting your training since being promoted to my assistant. We’re done with work for today, come to my house at dawn, I’ll personally oversee your training. It will be beneficial for us to become more...in sync before the mission as well.”

With a nod, you agreed to his conditions, not about to turn down one on one training with one of the best shinobi in the village, let alone one of the most attractive. After finishing what you were working on before being interrupted, you both packed up and left the office for the day. That night, you tried to go about your routine as normal but couldn’t help your mind from wandering. You thought about the events of the day, that brief moment where he used a pet name for you replayed a million times over, your cheeks heating up each time. Then, your mind would picture the possibilities that tomorrow morning might hold for you. Cheesy visuals filled your head of Shikaku wrapping his arms around you to show you proper form, an idea you no doubt got from cheesy romance movies. As if you need help perfecting your form. You were more than capable of holding your own in a fight and this training was simply to get you back in the swing of things.

The next morning came simultaneously too fast and not fast enough. You showed up at the Nara house, taking note that the house would be more appropriately labeled as a mansion. Dawn had yet to peak across the horizon, but Shikaku was already in the courtyard, kicking the air. Making your presence known, you set your supplies down on the porch before meeting his gaze. His face brightened when he saw you, sending a strange feeling to your chest.

“Ha! Figures you’d show up early. You’re too ambitious for your own good, kid.”

You grinned back at him as you started stretching, “Hey, you started early too, old man.”

He shook his head jovially, always amused when you dished back what he gave you. Without much more small talk, your training began and from then on you were focused on furthering your abilities. After all, the success of the mission was depending on both of you being at your absolute best for the entire duration. Shikaku knew better than to take it easy on you, instead treating you as any other opponent, and more importantly, treating you as an equal. It was a mild relief, but you were confident in your abilities to the point where you knew if he didn’t give it his all you’d lay his ass flat.

Two hours in and you were both fighting like a well-oiled machine, he went in for a hit, you blocked and parried to which he deflected. It ended up in you both barely being able to land a blow because the moves were just too predictable. Another half-hour and you agreed on a break, sitting on the engawa while catching your breath and chugging your water. You glanced over to Shikaku to find him already looking at you and suddenly you realized just how sweaty the training had made you. Alternatively, you also realized just how sweaty training had made Shikaku. The mesh shirt that was usually worn under his vest left little to your imagination, sweat glistening through the thin material. Silently, you thanked whatever gods existed and forced your attention back to a random tree in the courtyard.

“We should...clean up before work. You can use my shower,” he stood up after you agreed and led you inside, “Don’t worry about being quiet, Shikamaru’s on a mission of his own.”

You nodded and took note of the fact, still generally quiet though as he led you through the house to the bathroom. The place was even bigger from the inside and the bathroom itself looked like the size of your bedroom. Without much more thought you stripped once the door was closed and went to step in the shower. Blinking, you stared blankly at the shower knob, why the hell was each shower designed so damn differently? This shit looked like literal alien technology. You groaned and looked at your discarded clothes, there was no way in hell you were getting those leggings on while you were still so sweaty, let alone the sports bra. Grabbing a towel you wrapped it around your body and said a prayer.

“Shikaku…?” You called out tentatively, one hundred percent sure if you weren’t careful you’d get lost within the house, “Shikaku?”

“(Y/N)?” The door ahead on your left swung open and the older man appeared, currently shirtless and Kami, his hair was down.

“Uhm, I can’t figure out your shower…” admitting it out loud was mildly embarrassing and you could see the newspaper headline flash inside your head, ‘local shinobi gets stumped over fancy shower’.

Shikaku chuckled and rubbed his neck, “Forgot about that, yeah it’s a bit intimidating, isn’t it? I’ll show ya.”

You nodded and turned around, leading the way back to the bathroom, leaving Shikaku to trail behind you. Unintentionally, it was a test of will, his eyes desperately avoiding the sight of the towel barely covering the bottom of your ass. His eyes stared a hole into the back of your head trying to avoid your body. He was not going to objectify you, not now, not ever, he was better than this. Yet, he couldn’t help how his thoughts always wandered to you, though thankfully most of them weren’t dirty, or else he probably wouldn’t ever be able to look you in the eyes.

The bathroom couldn’t come fast enough and even as he leaned into the shower to turn it on you had to pry your eyes away from his backside, ignoring the way your eyes could spend ages just taking in all the scars that adorned his torso. He straightened himself out, standing tall again as the water began to spray. Well damn, he made it look so easy. You sighed and nodded in defeat, shower: 1, you: 0.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t worry about it. You gonna need help with anything else, kid? You know how the shampoo works, right?” a shit-eating grin spread across his face and you huffed before shooting him an innocent look.

“Well, now that you mention it, I’m not quite sure I know how, I think I need someone a bit older and wiser to teach me how,” you twirled your hair and batted your eyes, your voice an octave higher, really dialing up your little girl act.

The reaction was instantaneous, if ever there was a moment where you could pinpoint when a man’s willpower broke, this would be it. Shikaku unbuckled his pants and let them drop to the floor, leaving you the deer in the headlights now. The both of you played off the other too well, each pushing it just a bit farther, both refusing to be the one who backed out. That game of constant cat and mouse led you here, standing in the shower as the head of the Nara clan affectionately cleaned your hair. Not like you were complaining, though.

“Such a good little fawn, always eager to learn more. Are you taking in this lesson? Have you learned how to wash your hair, young one?”

“Yes sir, thank you for teaching me. Can you teach me how to wash my body now?” Pushing, nudging the boundary line further you rested your hands on his toned chest.

He smiled softly and grabbed the washcloth. There was no nervousness, most likely thanks to these roles you were both embracing. Instead, you felt confident. If the way you asked for him to wash you was any indication. His hands gently caressed your skin, lathering the soap over your body. Boldly, his hands lingered on your tits, brushing the rough material of the cloth over your nipples, making you arch into him. Your hands rested on his biceps, marveling in the way that they flexed just from washing you. After your torso was scrubbed the cloth wandered to your thighs, silently coaxing you to spread them.

Once you spread your legs his hand cupped your sex through the washcloth, another hand gently holding your face, keeping your eyes locked on his. Your hips instinctively rolled into his touch, a small gasp leaving you as the washcloth grazed over your clit. He grinned and finally leaned in, capturing your lips in his, thumb brushing over your cheek. Kissing back you slid your arms around his neck, keeping him there to kiss you more. His hand rubbed a bit harder before leaving altogether, washing the rest of your body while he kissed you. If his lips wouldn’t have been on yours you would have whined at the loss of contact. Luckily for him, he finished washing you soon enough, not leaving you enough time to complain.

As he hung up the washcloth, you refused to accept that was the end of your physical contact with him, “Can I practice what I learned on you, sir?”

“Well, of course. Learning by experience is always best. Go ahead, little one.”

With his affirmative answer, you reached up, scrubbing his long hair and massaging his scalp. Meanwhile, his hands wandered your sides, rubbing up and down as you tended to him. You made sure to condition his hair thoroughly, it’d be a shame to see those locks of his get dry. When it came to his body you washed it in record time, though you purposely avoided his crotch, saving it for last. Now, it was your turn to tease him, gently rubbing the washcloth over his half-hard cock. His eyes closed and he sighed deeply, trying to resist the way your hand wrapped around him through the cloth.

“Fuck me, Shikaku.”

Slowly, his eyes reopened and he looked at you, almost expecting you to be joking, or maybe he was hallucinating, but you repeated yourself, “Fuck me, Shikaku.”

He let out the breath he was holding and his hands gripped your hips, mouth leaning in to latch onto your neck this time. Carefully, he coaxed you to let him lift you, to let him show off those muscles he worked hard to earn. As if you really needed coaxing to let him do that. Your back pressed against the shower wall, legs wrapped around his waist, holding his hips close to yours. His cock nuzzled against you and he groaned, nipping at your neck. A moan left your lips and your hands went to his hair, tugging on it gently just to get him to groan again.

“I can’t wait any longer to have you, little fawn.”

“Mmm, figures, the old man doesn’t have any patience left in his old age,” you giggled softly, though, in reality, the feeling was mutual as you were more than ready to get railed by him.

“Hmph, damn kids and their smart mouths,” he mumbled into your neck but still reached down, pushing his cock into you slowly.

Your head leaned back against the wall in a silent gasp as his member spread you, deliciously sliding deeper until he hit your cervix. His arms wrapped around you like he was going to lose you, letting you get adjusted to his size before slowly thrusting. He groaned and kissed you as his hips moved at an agonizing pace to the point where you began to move yours forward just to meet him faster. Eventually, he got the hint, though he did prolong it a bit further just to tease you. Finally, he fucked his cock into you like he meant it, quick, deep strokes that hit you in all the right places. With every thrust, you could feel the prominent veins on his cock drag along your walls driving you, almost literally, up the wall.

The first time Shikaku moaned your name you nearly came right then, the sound sending a shiver down your spine and straight to your pussy. How many nights had you imagined what this would be like? Now, to have him fucking you like you were a goddess...it was overwhelming. As he continued to slam in and out of you, your nerves went wild, feeling like your whole body was on fire and the steamy bathroom didn’t help. One of his rough fingers met your clit and you knew you were done for. He rubbed quick and rough in time with his hips and you found yourself falling apart in his arms.

You cried out his name, clawing your nails down his back as your pussy spasmed and clenched around his cock. He held you tight, riding you through your orgasm, fingers still rubbing your clit as your thighs continued to shake. The son of a bitch sent you straight into a second orgasm, a scream of ecstasy tearing from your throat. Your whole body tensed and Shikaku buried himself deep inside of your pussy before he groaned and emptied his load. The feeling was heaven, his warm cum filling you full and as you came down from your high you found you couldn’t wait until tomorrow’s training session.

hope you enjoyed! remember likes & reblogs help me reach more people! :D

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

Filmverse!Knuckles is gonna be Tikal’s Little Brother and if he’s not I’m suing Sega

[ID: Two images; one of clipart of Knuckles the Echidna beside a poster for Sonic the Hedgehog (2020), and another from Sonic X of Knuckles and Tikal together while Tikal is injured. End ID.] 

Thankfully, this might be shorter than my last couple theory posts but unfortunately I am possibly more passionate about it because this could conceivably happen and if it doesn’t I don’t know what I’m gonna do. 

So in this theory, I will endeavor to prove these points:

Knuckles will very soon be present in the filmverse. 

In the Filmverse, Pachacamac (and by extention, Tikal) are no longer four-thousand years gone, but exist at the same time as Sonic.

Knuckles is going to be in this clan not just as any member, but as Tikal’s brother. 

We’re going off the rails and I’m going to tie this all in to the Chaos Emerald Filmverse theory. 

Who’s ready to go? Everything under the cut. 

1. Knuckles is Coming #2k22

[ID: Another edited photo, placing clipart of Knuckles beside a promotional photo for Sonic the Hedgehog (2020). End ID.] 

This will probably be a short section but... there’s no way Knuckles won’t be in the filmverse very soon. Likely, in the second fucking movie. 

Let’s start with the basics: Knuckles was originally going to be in the first movie, but was cut in order to better establish the Sonic vs Robotnik rivalry. Director Jeff Fowler made the following statement: 

“For this first film, we really were just looking at the 1991 game and just see where it all started and keep it simple…Just really try to nail Sonic and Robotnik and just set up their rivalry because you don’t…I mean, I love…There’s a lot of great characters in Sonic universe, but it’s the most important thing is just to get Sonic set up and just tell a little bit of an origin story with him, and just do it in a way that really makes everyone fall in love with him as a character and just be rooting for more.

And then, if all that goes well, then we can kind of open it up and bring in some of these other characters that fans know and love. And yeah, I mean, no one’s more excited than me to have that opportunity.”

[x]

As well as this, co-writer for the film, Josh Miller, has stated he really wants to bring in Knux. 

“I will only hint that we wanna bring in some of the other characters from the games. But, really, it’s all about Knuckles�� love.” [x]

Second, voice actors have, reportedly, already been considered for Knuckles’s voice, including Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. [x, x]

And third, Mushroom Hill. 

[ID: Two photos; one of the Mushroom Planet from Sonic the Hedgehog (2020). The second is a screenshot from Sonic & Knuckles, where Knuckles is running through Mushroom Hill. Both photos feature gigantic mushrooms resembling trees and an orange tint. End iD.]

The “Mushroom Planet” is a direct reference to the first level of Sonic & Knuckles. The first level of.... the game with Knuckles’s name in it. 

So, you wanna hear something funny? What’s the first thing Knuckles does in the game timeline? 

[ID: Screenshot from Sonic & Knuckles. Sonic is standing on the left side of the screen, beneath a mural of something holding an emerald towards something that looks like SuperSonic. On the right side of the screen is Knuckles, ready to fight Sonic. End ID.]

Well... Robotnik shows up, convinces him that Sonic and Tails are gonna try to steal his emerald, and sends him off to fight them. 

And where’s Robotnik at the end of the 2020 film?

[ID: Robotnik on the Mushroom Planet in Sonic the Hedgehog (2020). End ID.]

While the Mushroom Planet may not be where Angel Island is in filmverse, the direct reference would definitely generate fan attention. And it implies that Robotnik, wherever he is or is going, is headed towards Knuckles. And with the game inciting incident of Robotnik having Knuckles fight Sonic for him... well, wouldn’t that be a wild introduction? Especially for casual fans who don’t have Sonic Lore memorized and may not know that Knuckles was originally an antagonist/rival to Sonic. 

Oh, and there’s one more piece of evidence that Knuckles is gonna show up... the fact that his tribe already has. 

And among them, by the way, are Pachacamac and Tikal. 

2. Pachacamac and Tikal are no longer 4000 years old

So. Let’s talk about the opening scene of Sonic the Hedgehog (2020). As many of you have probably noticed, Sonic and Longclaw are attacked not just by any masked intruders, but by... the Knuckles Clan of Echidnas. 

And we’re sure they’re not any other clan, because they have the trademark Knuckled Gloves. 

[ID: Multiple gifs of the echidnas attempt to attack Longclaw and Baby Sonic. They are dressed in vaguely tribal wear, and have gloves featuring pointed knuckles, signifying them as the Knuckles Clan. End ID.] 

Now, that’s not evidence of Pachacamac/Tikal itself; we know the Knuckles Clan lasted at least long enough to spawn our Knuckles. What is evidence, however, is in the specific Echidna who shot Longclaw. 

[ID: Gif of the Echidna who shot Longclaw, isolated in the frame. End ID.] 

Look familiar?

[ID: The echdina who shot Longclaw in the 2020 film next to a render of Pachacamac. The mystery echidna’s helmet has the same forehead markings as Pachacamac, along with a design that looks like his mustache. End ID.]

And fun fact: this isn’t me reaching for once. This was confirmed by Tyson Hesse, film character designer and savior of Sonic, on his twitter. 

[ID: Tweet from Tyson Hesse, showing the pictures of the Echidna and Pachacamac. He says, “Late to the #sonicwatchparty but this is an easter egg I haven’t seen many people catch.” End iD.]

Pachacamac is canonically in Sonic 2020. As director Jeff Fowler has said he believes Sonic as ~13 during the events of the film, we could say he’s about three years old in that intro. And we know this because it is specified specifically that the main timeline takes place ten years after the prologue. 

[ID: Screenshot from Sonic the Hedgehog (2020), the first shot following the logo. It is a landscape shot of a street in the middle of a green field, and the caption reads, Green Hills Montana: Ten Years Later. End ID.]

Meaning... Pachacamac was alive ten years before the film takes place. Quite the departure from the four-thousand year time jump in the gameverse. Seeing as Pachacamac is alive so close to this timeline, we can reasonably assume that Tikal is, too- she’s his teenaged daughter, canonically ~14 when she is turned into a spirit, which would put her as solidly alive during this timeline. 

...wanna know who else would be alive in this timeline? 

Knuckles, who is only a year older than Sonic. 

And, um, obviously a member of the Knuckles Clan. 

3. Where is Knuckles in this Filmverse Canon?

Okay “Knuckles” is going to stop sounding like a word so can we just call the Knuckles Clan the KC rn? okay? Okay. 

Knuckles is canonically a year older than Sonic- listed as 16 while Sonic is 15. So if Sonic’s alive, Knuckles is alive. Basic logic there. 

In the gameverse, Knuckles’s backstory is as thus, paraphrased from Sonic Wiki:

Knuckles was born and raised alone on Angel Island as the last surviving member of the Knuckles Clan, a long-lost race of echidnas devoted to protecting the Master Emerald from being abused. However, Knuckles’s own past was a mystery to him; he knew nothing how he came to be and believed himself to be the last of his kind entirely. The one thing he did know was that he had always been living on his island, protecting the Master Emerald. Knuckles knew from an innate knowledge that his duty was his fate, and he was content with that.

While we can’t expect his backstory to stay exactly the same, seeing as Sonic now has a dead owl mom and knows how to Fortnite dance, but Knuckles’s backstory does fuel a lot of his character and decisions in the games. Here are what I believe to be the two main points of this backstory:

Knuckles is, or at least believes himself to be, the last member of his race 

Knuckles considers it his sacred duty to guard the Master Emerald 

[ID: Screencap from Sonic X of Knuckles the Echidna holding the Master Emerald above his head. End ID.]

Now... if Sonic was three during that backstory, the KC was around at least when Knuckles was about four. Most children don’t develop long-term memories til then, but if 3yo Sonic could remember his backstory in Green Hills near-perfectly, then clearly mobians are a bit different. We can reasonably assume that Knuckles would then remember at least part of his tribe or family, so that’s a definite change. 

Thing is, what would be the reason for this change? Even ignoring Pachacamac, it was definitely intentional for the clan attacking Longclaw and Sonic to be the KC, which does change quite a bit of Knuckles’s backstory. Which isn’t a problem, you see- it’s a drastic change, but character changes aren’t bad if there’s a reason behind them. 

So what would be the reason for Knuckles having memories of his tribe? 

Well... how easy would it be, then, to get that Sonic Adventure flashback via Knuckles instead of a glowing ball of Tikal/Navi? 

[ID: Screencap from Sonic Adventure, showing Knuckles the Echidna staring down Chaos and the glowing ball of light that symbolizes Tikal. They are standing in front of the emerald shards. End ID.]

Would be an easy way to get any chaos emerald/Master Emerald exposition out of the way, as well as establish some basic and early Sonic Lore- Chaos, echidnas, chao. And if Knuckles, um, remembers his entire race being massacred by an elder god?? That would definitely affect him in a way that he’d consider protecting the Master Emerald, the controller of the power Chaos used to do such a thing, a duty for himself. 

And... what would be the best way to get that backstory out? 

4. Knuckles is Tikal’s Baby Brother

Here’s the thing- the KC citizens don’t seem to know much about what’s going on outside of Pachacamac’s orders. From talking to them in Sonic Adventure flashbacks, we can see they’re quite a bit... confused, I think is the best way to put it. 

[ID: Dialogue screenshots from Sonic Adventure that I had to nab from a Game Grumps video because nobody else had these online. The echidnas say, “The daughter? I saw her in front of the shrine.”, “Well... I.... I just can’t sit still!” and “I think, therefore I am.” End ID.]

So if Knuckles was just an ordinary tribe member, it’d be unlikely for him to know enough to provide the necessary flashback details. And if Knuckles’s past was changed in order to provide an easier connection to the SA lore, he’d need to be very near to the action. Of course, he could just be a curious child, but even then, he’d likely be left out of several conversations surrounding Tikal. 

Most of Tikal’s flashbacks are spent alone- she only has a few arguing with her father, but most of her scenes are spent with the Chao and Chaos themself in the Chao Garden. Considering Tikal seems to be the only echidna frequenting the Chao Garden- the chao are afraid of her when she first approaches, Pachacamac arriving is basically seen as a declaration of war- there’d be no reason for an echidna to be there unless she brought them herself. 

Who would she bring with her? Perhaps... her little brother. 

[ID: Screencap from Sonic X of Tikal, surrounded by flying Chao while at the Master Emerald Shrine. End ID.]

First off, let’s get over the age thing-- I know you’re gonna say “Knuckles is 16 when Tikal is 14,” HOWEVER, TIkal did not age while inside the Master Emerald. She could go in at any point in Knuckles’s life, which means she could be anywhere from ten years older than him to a twin sister to two years younger. 

There’s no real concrete evidence of how old Knuckles would be in filmverse when the SA events happen, seeing as we have only seen Pachacamac existing and have no idea where this is in his timeline. However, from a writing standpoint, if you want to keep a bit of Knuckles’s backstory of living alone for a good chunk of his life, I’d say the massacre happening when he was ~8 seems likely. Old enough to have clear memories of the SA events but young enough to have his life completely sidetracked and feel like he raised himself. 

It’d be very easy for the flashbacks to feature Tikal taking a baby Knuckles to the Chao Garden, just telling him “don’t tell Dad, he won’t understand,” to talk to him about the grandmother he doesn’t remember who used to teach peace, to explain Chaos and the Master Emerald to him. 

And it’d be very easy angst for Knuckles being dragged along with the rest of the clan to take the emerald(s), watch his father basically doom his sister and his tribe murder innocent chao, and then see everyone he’s ever known murdered by Chaos, with his older sister stopping the rampage only by sealing herself and the destructive god in that emerald, leaving Knuckles completely alone. That’s all severe angst that pretty much no writer would pass up. 

Especially because it means Knuckles guarding the Master Emerald has now turned into Knuckles guarding his sister. 

[ID: Sonic X screenshot of Knuckles and Tikal looking up, surrounded by fire. End ID.]

So that’s the general theory. But let’s talk about something more fun: how it all ties into the Chaos Emerald Filmverse Theory. 

5. It all ties into our Chaos Emerald theory shh 

If you haven’t read Cori’s manifesto on the Chaos Emerald Filmverse Theory, allow me to summarize: 

Sonic is definitely a living Chaos Emerald, meaning that there are six other living Chaos Emeralds running around that we’re gonna need to track down. At least one of them’s Tails. 

First thing’s first... Robotnik going after Knuckles then makes perfect sense. If Robotnik somehow figured out exactly what Sonic was, he’d want a way to dilute his power. And the Master Emerald literally nullifies the power of the chaos emeralds. So whoever has the Master Emerald can severely nerf Sonic. Imagine Sonic getting within the boundaries of the ME and then immediately losing speed and falling flat on his face. Big oof. 

Second, it’s possible that Knuckles will also know what Sonic is. Because, well... what was Pachacamac after in Sonic Adventure?

[ID: Pachacamac attempting to talk down Tikal, who is t-posing in front of the Chao Garden in attempt to keep them out. Behind him is an echidna army, ready to attack. Pachacamac is saying, “We need those seven emeralds to give us total power!” End ID.]

The Chaos Emeralds. In order to use their power as weapons. 

And what was he after in Sonic 2020? 

Sonic. 

Interesting, huh.

Conclusion

Knuckles is gonna be the last member of the Knuckles Clan, guarding his older sister’s spirit inside an insanely powerful emerald, and will definitely be manipulated by Robotnik into using his Master Emerald to fuck up Sonic. 

And it’ll be really awesome. 

[ID: Sonic X screencap of Knuckles giving a thumbs up. End ID.]

[kanohivolitakk]

Fixing Bionicles species problem Part 1: Inhabitants of Stelt

(This post is part of a headcanon series where I try to tackle Bionicles issues regarding how the series is rather infuriatingly vague with its worldbuilding surrounding most non Matoran and non Makuta species in the Matoran Universe by expanding the lore of those other species. The introduction to the series is here, while the masterlist for every post in this project is found here)

Soo, lets start this series relatively simple by tackling a species (or multiple species) we actually DO have some vague information on, that being the inhabitants on Stelt. Because we have some information on them already, this is less coming up with new ideas and more just ironing out the concepts we have.

Stelt is in my opinion one of the more interesting underdeveloped locations in the Matoran Universe. This is due to how the island has a very specific set of hierarchies: There’s an upper class of warrior-king like rulers and a lower class of workers. Yet at the same time theres an unrest due to the constant infighting for power of the higher class. This makes Stelt an interesting warrior like society.

So first things first:I do like to divide the steltians into two main species, those being the upperclass Steltian Rulers (like Sidorak and Voporak) and the lowerclass Steltian Bruisers (like Krekka). These species are LOOSELY connected to each other from a biological standpoint, as the bruisers were designed by the Great Beings to serve as workers both in general but especially for Steltian Rulers. Neither of the Steltian species have any direct biological connection to other/relation to species. The Steltian Rulers were just one of the many creations by the Great Beings that could serve a purpose as leaders that saw the different civilizations in the world functioned and communicated with each other. That being said Steltian rulers do interact with other ruling/leader species as not only did they fight against others for dominance they also founded alliances and bonds with them, such as the “marriage” between Sidorak and Roodaka.

So for physical traits, both species are among the taller species of the MU, bruisers being among the tallest as well as rather bulky. What makes Steltian Rulers interesting is that they are among few species with a similarish build and purpose that is NOT reptilian in any fashion, instead resembling more a humanoid creature that could be seen as bull like thanks to its horns (no relation to the Artakha/Karzhani Bulls or Kanera rahi tho). Both species have small variety in height/build. Both species are monosex (read no sexual dimorphism/clear differences like say Vortixx have) and while they can be of different genders, most steltians are male (still need to iron out my specifics on how gender and sex function in MU but that’s another post for another day).

As for their characteristics and traits, rulers are normally rather territorial and prideful, although they can work with others. Because of their culture and territioral nature they tend to fight against each other, although they do have alliances/clans. Each clan has their leader that’s the most respected member of the clan. Betraying clan leaders is seen as a crime that can lead to exile or even worse. Bruisers are more brawn than anything else, although it should be noted that not every Bruiser is as stupid as Krekka.

For their roles in society, Steltian Rulers were in all sorts of roles from commanders in armies to informants to salesmen. Usually the roles demanded some kind of socialization and/or. Steltian Bruisers on the other hand were warriors and workers. They served as bodyguards, guards, fighters/soldiers and other similar works. They also did hard laborous tasks that few other species were capable of doing.

For characters who are members of the species, Sidorak and Voporak are Steltian Rulers, much like in canon. I also may make one of the Barraki into one (most likely Kalmah or Mantax) although that will be discussed when I get to my ideas regarding the Barraki warlords and what species they belong to.

Besides Krekka, I also like to headcanon the dark hunter Gladiator is a Steltian Bruiser, as he is a strong fighter who orginated as a slave from Stelt. There isn’t anything that suggests Gladiator NOT being a bruiser, so him being a bruiser works well with his character (yes I know his design isn’t similar to Krekkas but thats not something small design rework cannot fix + as said I do hc the bruiser species looking rather diverse soo).

It should be noted that despite their name the Steltian species do exist in other parts of the MU: some Steltian rulers live on other islands either as leaders or as traders/informants/warlords while bruisers are used all over the MU by numerous individuals and factions. It should be also noted that Stelt does have other species than the two main ones. It’s just that Rulers and Bruisers are Stelt natives. Most non-natives belong to the lower class.

So here’s my thoughts on the Steltian species. Feel free to reblog, comment and give feedback/thoughts, I greatly appreciate those. Feel also free to comment on the structure I made for this post as I do want to improve this.

[lauwrite1225]

There’s something in your eyes. || Alexander Stewart x OC

PART 1.

For the sake of Scotland, Eileen Douglas is to marry the young Alexander Stewart, a marriage none of them wanted.

Eileen was standing perfectly right on the stairs of Bothwell Castle. Her mother snapped her hand when she tried to pull the skirt of her dress, trying to make herself more comfortable in her tight corset. 

“Don’t fuss.” Her mother glared at her and Eileen had to do her best to not roll her eyes. 

Instead she kept staring at the horizon where horsemen were approaching. She could count ten, all wearing the Stewart tartan. The closer they were, the more she could notice her brother William’s face twist with disgust. The small group passed the gates and her father walked down the stairs quickly to welcome them. A first man climbed down from his horse graciously. He had a huge smile on his face as he saluted her father, but it seemed to repulse William even more as he mumbled curses in Gaelic. The two men walked toward them and Eileen felt her mother’s hand in her back, prompting her to climb down the stairs. When she found herself face to face with Stewart she offered him her most beautiful smile, one her mother could be proud of after teaching her how to look pleased even when she wasn’t. But she hadn’t to fake it that much, the man in front of her actually seeming sympathetic. 

She grabbed the skirt of her dress and lightly curtseyed. “Duke.”

“Lady Eileen. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.” He smiled. 

“The pleasure is shared.” And she could easily imagine the thunder in her brother’s eyes as she spoke.

A Douglas having to meet a Stewart was never for pleasure. Both clans hated each other for generations and even more since the Douglas decided to betray King James IV. Eileen was just a bairn when her uncle planned his alliance with the English King, but somehow, she became the symbol of the peace between the two clans. As well for the man she would marry. It was King James’ decision that she would marry his cousin, the Duke of Albany’s younger brother, and as she detailed the young Duke’s expression, she thought maybe the Stewarts weren’t the turds William liked to call them. 

“Let me introduce you to my brother, Alexander.” The Duke stepped aside and with a wave of his hand designated a young man still holding his horse’s reins. 

The younger Stewart was tall, his tartan making his shoulders even larger. With a nonchalant pace he joined them. He stopped next to his brother and Eileen and they silently judged each other. His brown eyes were similar to two endless holes so gloomy were they. His hair was as dark and seemed unruleble while a thin and uncertain beard started to cover his jaws and cheeks. 

"Lady Eileen." He muttered, saying her name seemed to be a great effort for him. 

This time, her smile couldn't be faker. "Lord Stewart." She replied, pronouncing each syllable as she was spitting to his face. 

Their interaction didn't last longer, her father inviting them to enter the castle to eat. The meal was rather calm, John Stewart being almost the only one speaking. He seemed pretty comfortable and even happy to be here, as if he wasn’t at the same table as former traitors. William liked to claim that what their uncle did was for the good of Scotland, that Stewarts were just a lineage of bastards, but Eileen knew they were the one who betrayed a King. And no matter how much William would insult the Stewarts, Douglass were the traitors. 

If that fact didn’t prevent John from enjoying the lunch, she couldn’t tell the same of her betrothed. Alexander was silent, stabbing his food as a pouting child. She found it amusing, and could have even found it  endearing if he wasn’t sending murderous glares at William. However, her brother wasn’t innocent , his piercing blue eyes giving back the threat gladly. 

At some point, her father cleared his throat and stood up. All eyes were on him as he raised his cup. “To my daughter and her future husband.” He declared turning toward Eileen and then Alexander who had made the effort to look less unhappy, if it was even truly possible. “And may this alliance be a new beginning for our two clans.”

John stood up as well and clinked his glass with her father’s. “To a new beginning.”

…

“You are a surprisingly good company.” Eileen smiled as she walked in the garden beside Alexander. He looked down at her dubiously. “What? I like the silence.” She smirked. 

He huffed and continued to walk. It was the second day the Stewarts were spending in Bothwell Castle and her mother had asked her to try to sympathize with the young man. But she found it hard to be nice with a man who wasn’t even talking to her. 

"You know, we are going to be married for what is going to be a long time. Maybe we should try to at least know each other." She proposed, doing her best to not sound rude. 

"I didn't want to marry." He grumbled, his foot kicking in a stone. 

"See ? We have at least one common point." She smirked again.

Alexander suddenly stopped in front of her, leaning slightly over her, and she realized how taller he was compared to her. She pinched her lips, her eyes not leaving his despite how threatening they were. 

"Don't you think because you're a bonny lass I'll forget you're a fucking Douglas whore." 

He had barely finished his sentence, Eileen slapped his face hard. He didn't expect that, his hand rubbing his already red cheek. "I'm not a whore and do not ever call me like that or I'll cut off your balls." She warned him with a roar of her voice and she found herself satisfied at how he looked at her with wide eyes. 

On these words, she exaggeratedly curtseyed before leaving him on his own. She felt her chest rise and fall ragingly, anger overwhelming her. As she walked in another part of the garden, she started to hate the whole world. She hated her uncle for starting this stupid rebellion. She hated King James for having decided to marry her to Alexander. She hated her father for having accepted it obediently. But most of all : she hated Alexander for being a prick turd.

Angry tears started to irritate her eyes and she wiped them away with her palms. She wanted to join her bedroom and cursed her all existence, but God seemed to have decided otherwise. Shouts from where she was coming from caught her attention and she started to walk back. If it was possible for her to be even more in fury, well now it was. William and Alexander were now fighting in the grass like two kids. 

From the corner of her eyes, she perceived John running in their direction to separate them. The older Stewart grabbed his brother by the back of his tunic, forcing him to get up and free William. 

"Can I have an explanation?" He asked his brother who was now dusting his tartan. 

"He got slapped by a lass." William replied mockingly and it took all John's strength to prevent his brother from coming upon his opponent again. 

"That's enough!" The Duke barked before dragging Alexander away. 

Once they were gone, Eileen walked to her brother who was still sitting on the floor. He grinned at her, and she noticed he must have bitten his cheek or tongue in the fight because there was blood on his teeth. 

"I don't know why you slapped him, Sister, but that's what all those bastard Stewarts deserve." 

Eileen crouched in front of him, still silent before slapping him as well. William whined, his cheeks already hurting from the fight. He looked at her confusedly and she stood up. "You're as much an idiot than him."

…

Dinner was again very silent, but this time both Alexander and William kept their eyes away from each other. John as well was different, his smile more tended. Eileen wondered if her father had a word of what happened in the garden, she doubted William told him, he would have been furious and maybe he would have had another mark on his face. But she also doubted he didn't notice anything. William had his right eye swollen and his bottom lip cut while Alexander's cheek was almost violet of her slap and probably her brother's punch. Oh none of them looked proud of the incident.

After the dinner, a knock on the door interrupted the servant who had barely started untying the back of her dress. Eileen turned her head to Maggie and kindly asked her to see who it was. She tightened the loosened laces and finally walked to open the door slightly. 

"Lord Stewart." 

From where she stood in her bedroom, Eileen could distinguish Alexander's silhouette through the door's opening, he wasn't wearing his tartan. 

"I'd like to talk to Lady Eileen." He declared. His voice was still strong but she could hear the uncertainty in it, and it made her smile.

Maggie turned around to have some sort of answer from her mistress. Eileen waved her hand and walked toward the door. "You can leave us, Maggie. Thank you."

The young servant nodded and left them after saying she would come back later. Once she had disappeared in a corridor, she crossed her arms and stared with contempt at the once more silent Alexander. 

"What do you want?" 

"To say that I'm sorry." He grumbled and she almost wanted to laugh at how pathetic he looked. 

"Is it you who is sorry, or your brother who asked you to be ?" She asked with an annoyed raised eyebrow. 

Alexander frowned. "Does it matter ?"

Eileen tilted her head, closing her eyes in exasperation. "Yes, it does." 

He rolled his eyes and after rubbing the back of his neck, he finally spoke. "It's me. I'm sorry for calling you a whore." 

"You are pardoned." She said, thinking that making peace with him could only be a benefit. "And you said I was bonny after all." She smirked and suddenly his face turned red of uncomfort. 

And for once, he didn't look as unpleasant as usual. His eyebrows weren't furrowed and his features were rid of any tension, making him look younger. She came to the conclusion that he wasn't that bad looking with his still fascinating brown eyes. She stepped back to go back in her bedroom, but before she closed her door, she paused and with an amused smile she added :

"I am sure you have a pretty smile, Alexander."

[rengonemad]

5 Scars, 1 Decision to Heal

This is a gift for Dami over at the KakaGai Hell Discord! I hope you enjoy! >.<  Rating: General Pairing: Hatake Kakashi & Maito Gai (can be read platonic or as the prelude to romance) Warnings: None, Read More is just for length Word Count: 2k

5 Times Gai made Kakashi consider Scars, and 1 Time Kakashi Understood

1. 

The first time Kakashi heard hushed respect in his father’s voice, they were in the presence of Sarutobi Hiruzen. That made sense, Kakashi thought: he was a man famed as the Sandaime, the Professor, the strongest shinobi in Konoha, and the student of both the First and Second Hokages. If there was anyone that the legendary White Fang would respect, it would be Sarutobi Hiruzen. 

The second time Kakashi heard hushed respect in his father’s voice, it was quite different. He was about to start at the Academy and a bruised and scarred kid in a green bodysuit was thanking Kakashi for an insult. 

“At this rate, this kid could become even stronger than you.” Sakumo said quietly, his palm a heavy weight on Kakashi’s head. 

Kakashi didn’t understand. The kid was weak. Not only had he been rejected from the Academy even though he looked a little older than Kakashi, but he was covered in dirt and abrasions. That meant he was weak enough to get hurt, and stupid enough not to hide it.

Kakashi asked for the kid’s name anyway. If his father respected these people, then Kakashi could do that much. 

It didn’t make sense, but Kakashi trusted his father. 

He trusted his father when he suggested Kakashi make Gai his rival. He trusted his father when he said that Sarutobi Hiruzen was a great man. He trusted his father when he said that Kakashi shouldn’t worry about him—that Sakumo was fine, even if it looked like he hadn’t left his bed since Kakashi left for his mission five days earlier. Even if the dishes were molding and Kakashi heard whispers about the White Fang, about his fall from grace—

Kakashi trusted his father. 

He did, until there was no more father to trust. 

Maito Dai and Maito Gai were the only people who attended Hatake Sakumo’s funeral. 

They cried more than Kakashi did.

Two weeks later, Kakashi moved out of Hatake Estate and into a chūnin barrack. It was a cramped, one-room affair, but that meant it was easier to clean. 

Most importantly, it didn’t have blood-stained tatami. 

It didn’t have any scars.

2.

The first time Kakashi got a scar that couldn’t be hidden by clothes, he got a sharingan and ninety-eight pounds of guilt to go with it. 

They were all signs of his weakness. Signs of his failures. 

But that didn’t mean he was willing to get rid of them. 

The Uchiha petitioned for the removal of Kakashi’s sharingan. There was no proof it had been given willingly, Fugaku said. (Disregarding the fact that not only was Rin a witness, but that the Yamanakas could have proven it from both of their memories if necessary.) It was sacrilege for a kekkei genkai to be wielded by someone outside of the clan. (The entire notion of shinobi having honor was questionable, in Kakashi’s humble opinion.) Keeping a kekkei genkai without a matching bloodline would kill the host by chakra drain—

—that part actually had some validity. Kakashi nearly died of chakra drains three times in that first year, before he finally figured out exactly how far he could push himself, how to recognize the warning signs when the sharingan began to consume more than Kakashi had to give. Effectively losing an eye meant an imbalance in depth perception and narrowed field of vision, both of which were easily deadly for a shinobi. Reading gave him a skull-splitting headache for the first two months, and his handwriting suddenly went from precise to nearly illegible and always slanted at an angle no matter how he turned his head. 

Rin looked at him differently, too. Even with one eye, Kakashi could tell. Her smiles were brittle. They shattered the moment she looked away. 

She often looked away. 

The scar was a sign of his weakness. The sharingan, a mark of his greatest mistake. 

It was a mark he deserved to bear. 

3.

Gai wouldn’t leave Kakashi alone.

Part of that was probably Kakashi’s fault; Maito Dai didn’t leave a body behind, but Gai held a private funeral for him anyway. Kakashi was the only one to attend. 

Over the next few years, Gai kept accumulating scars—some of them drawn by Kakashi’s own hand. They never tried to seriously injure each other—if weapons were involved, they fought until one part was disarmed or forced to concede. If taijutsu was the arena, then a successful pin for five seconds constituted a win. Kakashi never used fatal ninjutsu techniques. 

But accidents happened. Sometimes Gai didn’t dodge as quickly as Kakashi thought he would. Not hurting Gai in those instances became part of Kakashi’s practice, although not one he ever told his “Eternal Rival”. Gai’s ego wasn’t as untarnishable as he claimed it to be.

Gai’s scars steadily grew in number, overtaking his body with rough lines and calloused flesh. Kakashi’s own scars were fewer in number, but they, too, accumulated as the years passed. 

Their scars were different. Gai’s were a show of his dedication, the effort he put into perfecting something that no one thought possible of him. 

Kakashi’s laced his skin with memories that couldn’t be shut out. 

4.

When they were seventeen, Gai got rejected. He had brought her dozens of bouquets, composed entire sonnets, exclaimed about her to Kakashi every rare chance he got. Apparently, she said he was too much for her. Kakashi could see her point, but Gai really didn’t deserve the daffodils thrown back in his face. 

Gai only mourned for one day before he got up again, the same as at the end of any fight, and poured his sweat and tears into taijutsu. He used that motivation to master the fifth gate. 

Two months later, he was interested in another girl. He courted her with exactly the same amount of gusto as he had the first time around. This girl accepted. When she broke up with him politely two months later, Gai was still certain that true love existed, and absolutely willing to have his heart broken a million times over in order to find it.

Kakashi pretended to read while listening to his rants. He pretended to read while Gai sobbed in passion or mourning. He pretended to read while watching how the accumulating scars on tanned skin never reached Gai’s humongous, tender heart. 

Kakashi pretended that he didn’t think Gai was just as cool as he was ridiculous. 

5.

The first time Kakashi saw Gai truly affected by a scar, it wasn’t his own. 

Rock Lee was probably the first person in the world (other than Hatakes) who truly respected Gai. Unfortunately, while Lee and Gai’s ostentatious personalities, bullheaded stubbornness, large hearts, and bushy eyebrows all gave them obvious similarities, there were important points in which the two differed.

Those points led to Lee’s self-destruction.

While Lee had grown up in peacetime, with romantic dreams of shinobi and what it meant to be one, Gai had been faced with the stark reality of it from the earliest time he could remember. 

Gai understood consequences, and he understood how to judge an acceptable loss—at least, most of the time. Gai had known death firsthand before even leaving the Academy, and had seen his own father make the ultimate sacrifice of the eighth gate. He understood risks, and he had the ability to weigh them, whether most people realized that or not. 

Yet, Gai gave such tremendous power as the gates to a child who was full of more idealism than reason, more impulse than temperance. He gave that power to a boy who certainly would one day become a fine shinobi, but who had never seen death or destruction or the scars shinobi so often didn’t survive. Gai gave that power to a child who had never had anything more precious on the line than his own pride—and Lee suffered a powerful price for it. 

Kakashi couldn’t be beside Gai for those early days after Lee’s injury, because Gai wasn’t the only one who had make a mistake. Instead, Kakashi spent weeks sleeping for mere minutes at a time on a sheer rock face, training himself and his own childish student—one who had seen far more than many full-grown shinobi ever did—in the vain hope that they would both survive whatever Orochimaru would bring them next.

He thought that Sasuke’s past would teach him how to use his power well. Naively, Kakashi thought he had chosen better than Gai, that Sasuke wouldn’t suffer the same consequences.

He was wrong.

Kakashi and Gai had both failed their students—but Gai’s was an error of judgement, one in which he had placed his own history and capabilities onto a kid that wasn’t quite ready.

It took less than two months for Kakashi to realize his own error had been far worse. His own error had been one of the heart: specifically, of neglecting Sasuke’s. 

By then, it was too late.

The most painful scars, Kakashi knew by that point, were the ones he could only see, and do nothing to heal.

+1

Four years later, scars mottled the Earth itself. Konoha carried more than her share of them. Even months after Pein’s attack, rubble stood in half the districts and gouges were still being filled in with dirt and cement. Tenzō had long since erected temporary and permanent structures for the village’s basic needs, but post-war, there were too many necessities and not enough resources to allocate to them. One of the only projects completed during the first few months of the Rokudaime’s tenure was an additional ward to the hospital, designated for rehabilitating physically debilitated shinobi. 

No one had come out of the Fourth Shinobi War without a scar. Some of them were simply more noticeable than others.

“Doesn’t the Hokage—” Gai wheezed as he struggled to pull himself into an upright position in the hospital bed. Kakashi remained by the window, listening to the sound of hammers banging in the distance. He knew better than to offer help for something Gai could do himself—no matter how much time, and pain, it could cost him. “Have better things to waste his time on than—visiting an old rival?”

“I’m hiding,” Kakashi shrugged. He glanced over his shoulder to see Gai’s expression. “Maa, no need to look so disapproving. It’s only until I make a decision.” He held a palm up in pacification. “I promise I’m not shirking my duties.”

“Ah.” Gai nodded wisely, but his voice was breathy, hoarse despite the water bottle he had already half-drained. “I have—every faith you’ll make the best choice!”

With entirely burnt chakra pathways, Kakashi could only imagine the pain and fatigue Gai was going through—at least a dozen-fold what Kakashi himself had ever experienced with the sharingan. It was a miracle he was talking at all. 

Well—not a miracle. Gai’s strength wasn’t the gift of any God. 

It was something he had formed himself.

“You still have faith, Gai?” Kakashi murmured. “Even after all this?”

Gai’s bushy brows descended towards the center, the corners of his lips tugging down as well to form a frown. He was always sharper than people knew.

Tanned and scarred fingers clenched around his bottle of water. Plastic crinkled beneath the grip that had lost decades of strength in a single, life-changing moment.

With Gai, Kakashi knew: it was strength that could be gained again.

“In you, Kakashi, I always have faith.”

Kakashi turned back to face the window. His fingernails dug into the meat of his palm, hidden within his pocket. The other hand rose. He brushed fingerprints against the scar that bisected where the sharingan had once sat—a constant reminder still of Kakashi’s biggest failures. 

But that scar no longer stole Kakashi’s sight.

That scar no longer stole Kakashi’s chakra.

That scar no longer blinded Kakashi to the changes he could make in the world, and in those around him. 

It had taken over twenty-five years for Kakashi to understand why Gai could be who he was—why he could accumulate scars that were only surface-deep, why he could take even worse ones in stride and use them to drive himself forward: 

Gai didn’t define himself by his scars.

Perhaps it was time that Kakashi learned how to do that, too.

(I, uh, also made this edit. xD I dunno why.)

[fowlblue]

After seeing your cat designs for this series, consider; warrior cats au?

Okay, so.... this is going to get very long. Because I actually think that that is a interesting idea and it’s an AU I’ve been tossing around for a while.

(If you haven’t read WC, I tried to keep it as straightforward as possible- just keep in mind that WC is an extremely unrealistic series, and I wasn’t about to change that for an AU. Also, don’t take this too seriously, please.)

Here goes:

- So, the Fowls are a long, long line of purebred Turkish Angora cats, with a long history of winning at cat shows. Artemis, the sole kitten of Fowl Senior and Angeline, is no exception- he is very much used to a life of luxury and praise, because of this.

- The Fowls share their (very extravagant) household with two others, rescued Norwegian Forest siblings known as Butler and Juliet. They are not show cats- rather, they are the owner’s (who we’ll call Eoin, for fun) housecats- in short, they are your typical pet cats. Everyone gets along fine, it’s a perfectly chill household- until Fowl Senior disappears after running outside and not returning. Angeline becomes distraught and stressed, which leaves poor Artemis equally upset and bored.

- Artemis is blindingly smart, even for a feline- he’s perfectly capable of concocting schemes, and is somewhat capable of understanding human speech and is making an effort to learn to read. Add that to a large knowledge of human and animal behavior, and general mischief-making, and you have a recipe for mayhem. Especially considering that Artemis is perfectly aware of the large clan of ‘wild’ cats that live in the woods, and more specifically, the gorge they live in, where a large crystal known as the Moonstone can be found. He wants a chunk of it, because certainly something like that must be valuable, and when his owner leaves on a vacation, he puts his scheme into action.

- Hollyheart (Holly) is a proud warrior of Havenclan, who inhabit a large gorge in the woods, led by Rootstar, Hollyheart’s former mentor (Root). Best friend to Horsestep (Foaly), the medicine cat, but ostracized from her other clanmates, her life is fairly average, though she does have a penchant for getting herself in trouble. After a disasterous incident in which she attempts to take down a large dog (which would replace the trolls) on her own, she is ordered by Rootstar to go into the woods and cool off a bit, reflecting on her actions and the danger she put them all in. When she does so, she picks up the trail of a kittypet (the warriors’ name for housecats) and, upon meeting the most snide kitten she’s ever seen, gives chase. He leads her back towards his own home, where she is knocked out by Butler.

- Upon waking, she finds herself trapped in the basement of Artemis’s home. While there is a cat door that leads back outside, Artemis has locked it, and he politely informs her that she is now his hostage, until he can get into contact with her leader. She’s angry, but there’s little she can do, as she can’t unlock the door, and there’s no way out besides that that she can find. While she is assured by Artemis that he has no intention of seeing her harmed, he warns her that any attempt to cause havoc, escape, or damage to his owner’s property, won’t be taken lightly. After all, should his owner return and Hollyheart still be there, there’s a good chance his owner, a reknowned cat-lover, would see to it that she visits the shelter and is adopted by a loving family- somewhere far, far away from her clan life, and therefore her friends, in the woods. Understandably, she doesn’t want that.

- Of course, Rootstar and a few others eventually comes looking for his warrior, and Artemis, safe on his backyard’s fence, explains that he will give Hollyheart back when Rootstar or one of his warriors can bring him back a piece of the Moonstone or something similar. When they respond with confusion, he further explains that the gorge where they live is a former mine, where humans (or Mud People, as Havenclan calls them) hew gold, gemstones, and such things from the earth in order to decorate their dens, and that if the Moonstone exists there, there must be more, and he wants it. Still confused, they retreat, as they can’t do anything with both Butler and Juliet (who are much bigger than the wildcats) guarding the house and Hollyheart trapped behind a door that only Artemis can open.

- While discussing their options back at the camp, Rootstar sends away a few warriors, alongside Horsestep, to go check out the mine and see what they can find. Then, another warrior, Briarfang (Briar Cudgeon) suggests another, if brutal, idea. When they pretend to go trade for Hollyheart, they lure one of the neighborhood’s many dogs into Artemis’s backyard, as Butler, Juliet, and Artemis would be too busy running from the dog to focus on them, and they could send in a party to rescue Hollyheart. While Rootstar thinks the risk is much too high, the rest of the clan immediately agrees, and they leave to go enact this plan before Rootstar can stop them. Furious, he follows.

- Of course, this plan backfires. While Butler and Juliet are both brutally injured by the dog, Butler and Hollyheart (who was not about to let a bunch of cats get torn to pieces, enemy or not) do manage to fight it off. During the scuffle, Briarfang is horribly wounded as well, with one side of his face being completely disfigured. He flees, along with a large portion of the clan, leaving Rootstar, a few scattered warriors, Hollyheart and Horsestep (who has returned with a large piece of crystal, like Artemis asked) in the backyard.

- Artemis is furious (and frightened) that the woodland cats put him and his friends in such danger, but there’s not much he can do, as Butler and Juliet are too injured to help him, with Butler’s wounds being particularly serious. Without his owner home, there’s no way they can see the vet and get medical care, and he realizes there’s a very good chance he might lose them. Hollyheart, however, proposes something different- If he agrees to leave them alone and stay away from the woods, she and Horsestep (who is the clan’s healer) will bring back medicine and heal Butler and Juliet to the best of their ability- it’s not a perfect cure, but it should keep Butler alive until Artemis’s owner returns. With no options left to him, he agrees.

- They do so, and Artemis is baffled by their ability to heal injuries without the use of a vet. Hollyheart and Horsestep then leave, with a warning to stay away from the woods, as it belongs to them (and a tiny kitten wouldn’t last long there anyways, clever or not).

- This ‘peace’ doesn’t last long, of course, as Artemis soon decides to go on a quest to find his missing father- and he knows exactly who to ask for help.

[imaginaryelle]

Thanks to @morphia-writes​ for beta help, and to @miyuki4s for all the brainstorming help that went into this chapter!

An excerpt:

There are some things Lan Wangji cannot doubt: Wei Ying’s love for his sister, and her children. His affection for Jiang Wanyin, and the Wens. His dedication to ensuring that Lan Wangji himself does not succumb to the curse he carries.

Every evening, he creates a fresh talisman to replaces the one on Lan Wangji’s arm. He brews one of three different medicinal teas from Wen Qing, in sequence, and serves it, sometimes drinking a portion or two himself. He invites Lan Wangji to play Rest as a duet for the suppressed, resentful souls they carry, and then other, less spiritually charged music, and asks after his core, after their evening meditations.

Every morning, Lan Wangji takes longer than he needs to to comb his hair, and tie it up, and dress. Wei Ying looks younger in the diffused dawnlight inside the tent. Softer, sprawled carelessly under blankets with his sleep robe twisted out of place to reveal the hollow of his elbow and the line of his collar bones.

It’s an indulgence Lan Wangji shouldn’t permit himself. A few moments, watching Wei Ying breathe and concentrating on the steady warmth of the soulbond under his own skin.

Read on tumblr under the cut!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 |

*

It takes more than one day for a sect leader to prepare for the sort of journey they’re planning. Not because of the journey itself, Wei Ying is quick to point out, but because of all the things he has to make sure are done beforehand.

“Wen Qing is locking me in my study today,” he says over breakfast on the first day, “but Sizhui, Xiuying and Weixin are meeting with a tailor for new clothes and you should go.”

As he has been wearing borrowed or stolen clothes for several days now, Lan Wangji cannot bring himself to protest. He has no desire to wear extra infirmary underlayers while traveling, and the plain black outer layer Wen Qionglin had brought to his door was clearly intended to fit as many people as possible. Commissioning something new, or at least something altered to fit properly, is only reasonable.

Wei Ying insists that he’s already paid for the service, which Lan Wangji can only thank him for; he has no funds of his own, or reputation to call on.

“Get something you like,” Wei Ying tells him, even as Wen Qing looms over his shoulder. “Anything you want is fine.”

Lan Wangji assumes this event will take place within Yiling-Wei’s walls, as was generally the case in Cloud Recesses, but instead he finds himself following Wen Sizhui, Zhou Xiuying and Liu Weixin through a town that looks much more prosperous than the Yiling he visited thirteen years ago, and is almost certainly louder and more crowded than he remembers.

That impression may be influenced by his company. Certainly he had felt there were entirely too many people in the street when he was surrounded by onlookers with a toddler clutching at his leg, but if anything their small group draws even more attention now.

Everyone seems to know Wen Sizhui. There are street hawkers and shop owners who greet him by name, and press freshly steamed baozi and sticks of hawthorn candy into his hands, and it is clear from their comments that the townspeople of Yiling are close to their Sect in a way that is certainly not true of Cloud Recesses and Caiyi, or Jinlingtai and Lanling. One merchant is so insistent on thanking them for some past service that all four of them end up holding packages of lotus root, despite the fact that Lan Wangji can have had nothing to do with solving the woman’s problems.

The pattern continues inside the tailor’s shop—the young Wei cultivators are being fitted with new black outer yi and trousers designed to the Jiang Clan’s specifications for the upcoming archery tournament, but they are all clearly well-known to the staff. And Lan Wangji has come with the Sect Leader’s express instructions. And also the offer of his purse.

“Wei-zongzhu said you might prefer these,” one of the tailor’s assistants says, his hands full of fine-woven cream and blue fabrics, “but we do have other colors, of course.”

None of the fabrics on display are the shining, pure white of Gusu-Lan, but there is sun-bleached silk and cloud-white cotton and pale wool woven thinner than paper. It doesn’t seem to matter what he says, or how he responds: he is fussed over, and measured, and prodded. Silk and wool and brocade are draped over his shoulders and held up to his face for comparisons of shade and texture, and he leaves the shop—it is much later in the afternoon than he expected—with the black robe he arrived in newly altered and a sash of summerweight wool dyed the blue of a pale spring morning tied around his waist. Travel clothes, he is assured, will be delivered in the next few days.

He could not bring himself to commission a forehead ribbon, in any color; he is already quite certain these new robes will exceed any budget or social standing Liang Feihong could expect to claim. Wei Ying seems unconcerned.

“It’s a gift,” he insists after dinner. “Besides, you’re still a cultivator, and you’re traveling with a sect leader. It’d be weird if you looked like a fisherman.”

Lan Wangji is certain there are several measures of difference between the dress of a fisherman, a rogue cultivator, and the fabrics that were held before his face today.

“Look at this map with me,” Wei Ying says, the topic apparently closed. “I’m trying to figure out which roads are least likely to be blocked by mudslides. Wen Qing says if I get on a boat during the spring rains she’ll kill me now to save herself the trouble of burying me later.”

Lan Wangji may not have any formal responsibilities at Yiling-Wei, but Wen Qing makes it clear that she expects marked improvement in his spiritual power before he leaves her area of influence. He is given a list of meditation exercises and a schedule of daily training sessions for sword and unarmed work with her apprentices on hand to monitor his condition.

This is not a hardship. He had already planned to dedicate most of his time to this task, and the Wei cultivators have a unique style—not quite Yunmeng-Jiang, but not Qishan-Wen either. Wei Ying, of course, is the most practiced in it, and his version does not even involve a sword; Suibian is distinctly absent from their training sessions, but this does not seem to affect Wei Ying’s efficacy. Twice Lan Wangji is not fast enough to avoid the touch of a talisman to his shoulder, or his core.

He takes no actual damage from them—Wei Ying is careful in his craft, and these were written specifically for this purpose, but the failure drives him to train harder, even against other sparring opponents, until whatever apprentice is observing him steps in and orders a rest.

He spends this enforced downtime reading theory texts from Wen Qing’s library or at his guqin, picking out simple practice scores and more complex Lan melodies in the hope of re-training both his fingers and his core in the delicate language required for performing Inquiry. He works outside, in the scattered gardens, whenever the weather allows. A few hours spent alone in his shuttered room during a sudden storm proves detrimental to his focus, no matter how many handstands he does, or what other meditation techniques he tries. It is better to be out in the open air, where he can breathe more easily.

“Lan Zhan!” On the afternoon of the third day Wei Ying leans around the mulberry tree on the other side of a plot dedicated largely to cooking herbs. He looks around as if he thinks they’re being watched, and then all but runs over to crouch next to Lan Wangji. “I want to show you something,” he whispers. He tugs on Lan Wangji’s sleeve. “Come on, quick!”

“Something” turns out to be the paddock, where a 2-day-old foal is taking in the outside world for the first time under his mother’s watchful eyes. Wei Ying drapes himself over the fence and watches them both with a rapt expression Lan Wangji has never seen him wear before. Zhou Xiuying is also in attendance, alongside her wife—Feng Xinyi—who he learns is the one of the Wei Sect’s grooms.

“Xiaoying and Heitu are just one pasture over, if you wanted to meet them,” she says, which is how Lan Wangji learns that Wei Ying intends to travel by mule.

“Do you know how hard it is to feed a horse?” he says as they walk through tall grass flushed green with the rains. “Have you ever tried to train a horse for night hunting? In a Yunmeng summer? The heat is terrible for them. I think the only reason Jiang Cheng still has horses is his grandmother sent a whole caravan of grooms and breeding stock from Meishan when the war ended.” He produces two apples from his sleeve and holds one out to the nearest mule and the other to Lan Wangji. “Mules are better,” he says, his tone flippant as he pets Xiaoying’s long nose. “And almost as impressive.”

Xiaoying and Heitu are undeniably beautiful animals; good conformation, clearly healthy, and their dark bay coats shine red in the sunlight. And Lan Wangji knows that he will not be able to travel by sword for some time yet. Not alone. He cannot expect Wei Ying to transport them both, and walking will be too slow. Riding makes sense.

“Little Shadow?” he asks, of Wei Ying’s mount. “And … Black Rabbit?” They are hardly the sorts of names he is accustomed to hearing for a cultivator’s steed. There is little sense of speed, or power, or even luck in these names. Wei Ying shrugs.

“Xiaoying used to lie in the grass and pretend to be dead. Sizhui tripped over her all the time, and then she’d follow him for hours. And Heitu likes to jump, she hopped all over the place as a filly--ah! Lan Zhan!” He grins, gleeful, mischief in his face. “Do you remember the rabbits I gave you, all those years ago? And now I can give you another one! A bigger one!” Wei Ying laughs, just as he had laughed in Cloud Recesses, depositing two rabbits on the floor of the library, some sort of gift and joke and torment all in one, Lan Wangji had been sure.

Lan Wangji hadn’t known what to do then, with the boy who refused to leave him alone, who insisted on teasing him at every opportunity. Now, he stares at Wei Ying’s hands, at long sleeves pulled back to reveal his wrists, at his lips, and he knows what he wants to do.

He steps closer to Heitu, offers her his hands in a bowl instead of reaching out beyond her.

“I remember,” he says. It’s possible that his brother allowed his pets to stay, after his death.

Unlikely. But possible.

Heitu snuffles at his hands, all warm breath and soft nose in a way that is, in some small semblance, reminiscent of the soft warmth of his rabbits. She bears nothing like their fragility, but she takes the apple he offers delicately, and he keeps his fingers well clear of her teeth. Wei Ying strokes Xiaoying’s face and talks sweetly at her until she takes his sleeve in her mouth, at which point he switches over to annoyed admonishments. Lan Wangji has just stepped nearer to help him when Wen Qionglin appears at Wei Ying’s shoulder.

“Qing-jie wants to know if you finished that letter to Ouyang-zongzhu yet,” he says.

Wei Ying jerks, and there’s a sound of tearing cloth. He sighs.

“Feng-shimei told you to stop keeping food in your sleeves,” Wen Qionglin notes, even as he distracts Xiaoying with a hand on her neck. She drops Wei Ying’s sleeve and nudges her nose into Wen Qionglin’s chest. Both animals seem accustomed to his presence.

“I took it out as soon as we got here,” Wei Ying grumbles. “I wouldn’t have torn anything if I wasn’t surprised.” He sticks his fingers through the tear in his sleeve and wiggles them. The look on his face can only be described as a pout.

“I can fix it for you—” Wen Qionglin actually looks worried. Wei Ying just sighs and flaps his sleeve.

“I’ll fix it,” he says. “Why should you fix it? It’s fine.” He frowns at Xiaoying for a moment, then leans into Lan Wangji’s shoulder.

“I really can’t recommend becoming a sect leader,” he says, low-voiced, as if this will affect Wen Qionglin’s hearing. “The number of letters you have to respond to is too much work. I don’t think Ouyang-zongzhu even reads them, he just sends some new complaint every few weeks, as if I can control the weather, or the river, or how sleepy his cultivators get when they’re on tower duty.”

Lan Wangji has never heard his brother or his uncle make similar complaints, but they are Lans; they would not say such a thing even if it were true.

“Did you not choose the position?” he asks.

Wei Ying’s face scrunches up with displeasure. He shakes his head, though whether it is denial or dismissal is impossible to determine.

“I better get back to it,” he says instead of answering the question. “Before Wen Qing tells the kitchens to put radish in my food again.”

He sighs, and waves aside Lan Wangji’s bow. “I’ll see you both at dinner,” he says, and Wen Qionglin nods. Lan Wangji watches Wei Ying walk back up the hill towards the main compound until Heitu seems to take offense to his distraction and knocks her head against his shoulder, huffing at him.

“Does Liang-gongzi know how to ride?” Wen Qionglin asks. It’s a fair question: Lan Wangji does not actually know if Liang Feihong was trained in riding. He prevaricates. What is true for him is just as likely to be true for Liang Feihong as not.

“It has been a long time.”

“Would you like to practice?” Wen Qionglin asks, and Lan Wangji agrees without hesitation. Practice, and especially practice in caring for his mount without servants to help, can only improve the upcoming journey.

Wen Qionglin shows him to the tack room, and he manages to brush and saddle Heitu with a minimum of fuss. The main difference between outfitting a horse and a mule, he finds, is that Heitu’s tack includes two belly cinches, there is an extra strap that goes under her tail to stop the saddle moving too far forward, and he has to be especially gentle with her long ears while placing the bridle. Xiaoying is the more mischievous of the pair, Wen Qionglin tells him, and has to be watched carefully so she doesn’t puff out her stomach and make the cinches too loose.

Riding is initially awkward, but after a few slow circuits of the paddock he finds his seat and is able to push Heitu faster without losing his balance too badly. She takes direction well, has a steady, comfortable gait, and doesn’t startle as easily as some horses he’s ridden. He will almost certainly be sore later, especially without a dependable supply of spiritual power to speed healing, but the wind in his face and the simple pleasures of riding are more than worth that discomfort. He turns back toward the stables when they have both worked up a light sweat and sees Feng Xinyi speaking with Wen Qionglin. She smiles as he approaches, but doesn’t stay.

“I should get back to the little one,” she says. “But I’m glad to know Heitu will have a rider who knows what he’s doing.”

Wen Qionglin leads Heitu to a water trough and pets her cheek until Feng Xinyi is out of earshot.

“Wei-zongzhu trusts you,” he says. As if this is a fact.

Lan Wangji stares back at him. Wen Qionglin does not breathe, and he does not blink. He stands perfectly, unnaturally still, and waits. Apparently some response is required.

He settles on, “I trust him, also.”

Wen Qionglin watches him for a moment longer, and then nods. Then he says, “If he truly needs help, I will know. No matter where he is. And I am very fast.”

Oh.

This is probably intended as a threat.

Lan Wangji slides off Heitu’s back, so that they are eye to eye.

“I mean him no harm,” he says. In his current state of spiritual power it’s almost reassuring to know that someone else is concerned for Wei Ying's welfare. It should not be at all surprising, but he finds he is often surprised by Wen Qionglin, who has continued to move and talk and physically reside with his family for over a decade when everything Lan Wangji has been taught says he should not even exist.

Those same teachings would object to his own new existence as well; they are, both of them, supposed to be long dead.

“I will not let him come to harm,” he says, “if I can help it.”

He worries for a moment that this will be too revealing, but Wen Qionglin does not question him further. Perhaps he doesn’t need to. They are both well aware of the loyalty Wei Ying can inspire, under the right circumstances.

“I will show you where to find the saddle bags and travel rations,” Wen Qionglin decides, and he doesn’t speak of anything but Xiaoying and Heitu’s care and habits for the rest of the afternoon.

The evening before their planned departure, Wen Qing summons Lan Wangji once more to her study. Wei Ying arrives partway through her examination of his meridians and, surprisingly, sits quietly beside her desk until she’s finished. When she nods he joins them both behind the privacy screen and produces two cloth-wrapped packages—in one, two coiled lengths of red silk string, and in the other a pale jade carving of an endless panchang knot.

“Our hope is to give your spiritual power a new path through your meridians,” Wen Qing tells him as she inspects the strings. “One that minimizes the curse’s influence.” She blocks the meridians at his shoulder with her needles, and then ties one string to his arm, above the curse mark, and the other below it, each secured with a cloverleaf knot and sealed with a touch of spiritual power.

Wei Ying leans in close and presses two fingers to the talisman over the curse mark, but doesn’t touch either the silk or the jade. He keeps his silence. Lan Wangji watches his face and cannot read his thoughts.

“Just making sure this doesn’t interrupt us,” he says when he sees Lan Wangji watching. He holds up a second talisman in his other hand. “Wouldn’t want to have to start over in the middle.”

It’s a reasonable precaution: Tying the new charm is a long process, a progression of knots that covers most of his forearm. The jade panchang knot is tied in just above the curse mark, and another panchang knot of red silk tied below the wound. Wen Qing and Wei Ying both study it closely, and then she removes her needles and takes his wrist again, walking him through a slow meditation, cycling spiritual power through his body.

The flow of power is smoother, though it does perhaps take a little more time than he expects.

Wei Ying removes his fingers with a nod and a sigh. Wen Qing smiles, satisfied.

“The talisman will still need to be reapplied regularly,” she says, “but these charms together should be enough to minimize the curse’s effect on your meridians, so your core can begin to heal.”

It has already begun. He can feel the difference.

“Thank you.” The words seem inadequate, but he has little else to offer. Even this, she waves aside.

“I’m sure you don’t need my guidance for the proper exercises, but I do have many more theory texts, if you wish to read them.”

“We can bring some along,” Wei Ying promises. “Most of the best ones, we have more than one copy.”

Lan Wangji thinks of the library—of the many books that bear the same hand. Some copied by Wen Qing. Some by Wei Ying. Others in a clear, steady hand he doesn’t recognize. Of the single bound copy of the Lan Clan rules he’d found next to a copy of the Wen principles, and the books that he doubts his brother knows exist, copies of texts that were available to guest disciples studying at Cloud Recesses.

He wonders if his brother knew, when he was rebuilding the Library Pavilion, just how exact Wei Ying’s memory can be.

“Thank you,” he says again.

“Get some sleep,” Wen Qing says. “Both of you.” She stares hard at Wei Ying. “I’m not going to be the one dragging you out of your rooms in the morning. It’s no matter to me if you miss traveling during the coolest part of the day.”

Traveling with Wei Ying, and only with Wei Ying, is different from traveling alone, or with other Lan disciples, and different again from his memories of travel during the Sunshot Campaign. Then, Wei Ying had shifted through moods like ripples in water, sometimes predictable but more often not. A laugh like a clash of swords, a glare that pierced like needles. More than once Lan Wangji had found him alone but for the poor company the dead might provide, brooding under a shadow that seemed to cling to him even on the clearest of days. And then he would turn and ask if Lan Wangji knew this or that song, or if he wanted to spar, or if he’d eaten because surely it must be time for the next meal by now, and Lan Wangji would push aside his concern until hours later, when Wei Ying was just as likely to pull a prank as get in a fight with an ally. A fight with Lan Wangji himself, more often than not.

But that was the war. Decades ago, now, for everyone but Lan Wangji himself.

Now, Wei Ying laughs with more humor, and the cant of his eyes is merely sly rather than cutting. He grumbles through his breakfast and morning tea. He bickers with Xiaoying while saddling her and slouches through the morning hours until some unknown precondition is met, and then he begins talking aloud about whatever is on his mind at the moment: the weather, which continues to be wet, with cool mornings and steamy afternoons, or theories on their two investigations, or tales of past night hunts, which quickly shift into stories of Wen Sizhui, or Jiang Wanyin and Jin Rulan, and from there to the other members of Yiling-Wei, and Yunmeng-Jiang, and Lanling-Jin. Once, when they stop and take shelter under a half-repaired watchtower to wait out a storm, Wei Ying says, “Ah, Lan Zhan, do you remember that week we had rain every day, in Gusu?” and he speaks of Lan Xichen, and the Lan Sect, and what little he knows of its current status.

Cloud Recesses has been rebuilt, reportedly exactly as it was before the Wens attacked. Lan Qiren still teaches, and Lan Wangji feels a swell of relief to know his uncle still breathes. The Sect still hosts a year-long seminar for young disciples of any sect, every few years. Wen Sizhui, Liu Weixin and Zhou Xiuying have attended it, and returned with reports of young Lan cultivators who Wen Sizhui described as friendly, Liu Weixin called unbearably rigid, and Zhou Xiuying pronounced worthy sparring opponents. Lan Xichen has, unsurprisingly, built a widely-spoken reputation for even-mindedness that Lan Wangji knows he himself could never hope to match.

There is no bitterness to any of Wei Ying’s tales. No mention of hardship or enmity, over a span of more than a decade that Lan Wangji knows cannot have been easy, especially near its start. But then, Lan Wangji has long known that Wei Ying lies more easily than he tells the truth, omits more than he ever says openly. Even when he was living among the Mass Graves, quite obviously short on food, the only hardship Wei Ying would admit to was a lack of visitors, and news.

Still, there are some things he cannot doubt: Wei Ying’s love for his sister, and her children. His affection for Jiang Wanyin, and the Wens. His dedication to ensuring that Lan Wangji himself does not succumb to the curse he carries.

Every evening, he creates a fresh talisman to replaces the one on Lan Wangji’s arm. He brews one of three different medicinal teas from Wen Qing, in sequence, and serves it, sometimes drinking a portion or two himself. He invites Lan Wangji to play Rest as a duet for the suppressed, resentful souls they carry, and then other, less spiritually charged music, and asks after his core, after their evening meditations.

Every morning, Lan Wangji takes longer than he needs to to comb his hair, and tie it up, and dress. Wei Ying looks younger in the diffused dawnlight inside the tent. Softer, sprawled carelessly under blankets with his sleep robe twisted out of place to reveal the hollow of his elbow and the line of his collar bones.

It’s an indulgence Lan Wangji shouldn’t permit himself. A few moments, watching Wei Ying breathe and concentrating on the steady warmth of the soulbond under his own skin.

He turns away. Steps outside. Rekindles the fire for breakfast.

During the long afternoon of the fourth day, after they have shared a quick lunch beside a clear-flowing stream and are letting Xiaoying and Heitu forage their own meal, Wei Ying draws out Chenqing and plays songs that seem to be purely for personal entertainment; there is no spiritual power behind them at all. Some, Lan Wangji recognizes as common to drinking houses and inns. Others he doesn’t recognize at all. He is considering unwrapping the guqin when Wei Ying’s somewhat random little melodies turn suddenly familiar.

Not just familiar.

Every note is etched into Lan Wangji’s soul.

Wei Ying catches him staring. He’s not certain what expression his own face is making, but Wei Ying looks suddenly defensive. His hands drop to his lap, wrapping around Chenqing as if Lan Wangji will try to tear the flute away from him.

“What?”

“You remember.” Lan Wangji shouldn’t be surprised—Wei Ying has remembered enough of his brief time at Cloud Recesses to reproduce the Lan Sect’s rules and three different treatises, and that’s only what Lan Wangji found. But it had been only once, in the Xuanwu’s cave. That song has only ever had an audience of one.

Wei Ying frowns at him.

“What ...” his eyebrows rise high on his forehead, his mouth forming a perfect circle. “Lan Zhan.” He leans forward, suddenly eager. “Lan Zhan, you know this song?”

Of course he knows it. How could he not?

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying continues. “No one knows this song. How do you know it? Is it a Lan Clan song? What’s its name?”

Words stick in Lan Wangji’s throat. Wei Ying doesn’t remember. Not really. He looks away. At the play of light on water. The swirl of shadowy fish, underneath.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says again, moving closer. “I can never remember where I heard it, and no one ever recognizes it. How do you know it?”

No one ever recognizes it, he says. Which means Wei Ying has been playing it. For other people. For thirteen years. And he doesn’t know.

Lan Wangji swallows back his foolish hopes. The words he might have said.

“I wrote it,” he admits, to the low rush of the spring and the whisper of reeds in the light breeze.

“What?”

When he risks a glance back, Wei Ying is staring. He looks utterly shocked.

“What do you mean, you wrote it?”

Lan Wangji does not want to have this conversation. Not now. Not if Wei Ying doesn’t remember something so important.

At least, it had been important to Lan Wangji.

“We should keep moving,” he says, and stands. Heitu is drinking from the stream, but she only flicks her ears when he touches her shoulder, and doesn’t offer any more protest than a shift of her weight as he unties her hobble and mounts.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying is frowning at him.

“We are wasting daylight,” Lan Wangji tells him. It’s true enough. This break is no shorter than any other.

Wei Ying grumbles. Retrieves his things.

“What’s its name?” he asks as he settles on Xiaoying.

I have already told you. Lan Wangji locks the words behind his teeth. Wei Ying does not speak of the soul bond, never broaches the topic of their battle with the Xuanwu or anything else from their lives that occurred after he left Cloud Recesses months before any other disciple, does not remember this, despite Lan Wangji telling him, despite his clear memory of the music itself and his perfect recall of texts long burnt to ashes.

“Think about it.” He says instead, and urges Heitu into a quicker pace, too fast for easy conversation.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying calls after him, but Lan Wangji does not look back.

When Wei Ying catches up he speaks of other things, and does not mention the song again.

Notes:        

For the curious, Xiaoying and Heitu are named as references to famous horses from Romance of the Three Kingdoms. 絶影 (sometimes translated as "Suppressing Shadow" or "Shadow Runner") was one of the horses of Cao Cao, head of the state of Wei. He famously kept running despite taking three arrows, and thus saved his rider from enemies. 赤兔 (Red Hare) was described as "the best of horses" and within the tale people considered him to be too good for his original master. After that master died he was given to a new, more virtuous hero (Guan Yu, sometimes described as an ideal incarnation of loyalty and righteousness), who he was extremely loyal to.

(on to part 11)

[rexnihilis]

“Hawks, we recently received information from an anonymous source that the S-class villain "Apostle of Faith", real name is unknown, will arrive in Japan with the aim of creating an alliance with the League of Villains, or rather the Paranormal Liberation Front. This villain became famous thanks to the creation of terrorist cells or opposition movements, promoting the removal of the privileges of certain segments of the population, which in our country are people with a Heroic License, and the full legalization of quirks, up to Anarchy. Its quirk is designated in the world register as "Sermon". It allows him to use his speeches to brainwash people and lay commands and orders in them based on his “sermons.” Your task is to find out what exactly he is going to offer for the League and, if possible, capture and interrogate without compromising himself. If this is impossible then find a place to base it in Japan and tell us or Endeavor. End of briefing. Free."

An official from the  Hero Commission finished his speech and disconnected.

'Heck. I hope, he doesn't have time to do anything before I eliminate him... '

                                                                                                                “Aizawa Sensei, we can't reach Izuku,” Iida didn’t look as calm as ever, and his movements became less robotic.

It’s already 11 a.m. in the morning, but the Problem Child did not get up? Usually he could be met at 6 a.m., and on Sunday even at 5 a.m.

"Go and call Present Mic, meet at Izuku’s room."

Most of the dorms was surprisingly quiet, due to the lack of main noise generators. Mina, Kaminari, Sero and Mineta were probably asleep, but the absence of Bakugo and his endless cries of children led to not very pleasant thoughts. If they had a fight again, then I will break into the office of this mouse and demand an salary increase and a monthly supply of coffee.

On the second floor near the door of the Problem Child stood Urarakа, Yaoyorozu and Todoroki. All three looked worried and tried to reach Izuku.

"Problem Child, get up. It's 11 a.m. already."

Listening and not hearing anything, Aizawa repeated a little louder. The yawning Bakugo heard this, and having looked with his evil gaze, he went up and yelled in his usual manner.

"Get up, you fucking nerd!!!"

Not getting a reaction, he yelled even louder and again not getting a reaction, he decided to use cunning.

"Deku, released a new action figure of the All Might in a Bronze Age costume!"

Not having received a reaction, he blasted from anger at the door with an explosion and she immediately opened with clatter.

"Bakugo, stop damaging school property!" Iida cried out, leading the Present Mic.

" Shouta, there’s no reaction from you, have you really fallen asleep again? " Hizashi expected smiles from the students and grunts from Shouta, but he saw only the frightened faces of the students and the tense hero Eraserhead...

The room was turned upside down, the entire All Might merchandise was burned or broken, traces of fire were throughout the floor. Here and there were especially blackened spots that just could not have been burnt, it was more like ...

Blood...

It was scattered here and there, and large spots of blood were visible on the right wall, from which dried red pens were flowing, and on the left ...

The entire left wall was painted red, and on this red only one phrase was visible: "Death to the Ninth Antichrist and glory to our Lord!"

                                                                                                                What happened?

I...

I remember that I was sleeping, then I heard some noise, and then...

Then they attacked.

One of them shouted something, and I tried to hit him with the help of 8%, but they tied me up with something and I felt...

Fear. He piled on a powerful impact and immediately spilled over into the attack with the Black Whip. He was not so painful, but this time he besides usual blows also burned. Each of its flagella felt like something dark and destructive, and the energy resembled tongues of flame, not harnesses of pure darkness.

The pain passed through me like a hellish express, and I lost consciousness...

How...

How hard to think.

Trying to move, I finally felt my body. The impulses of pain from the Black Whip were still felt in him, but this time it was much easier. Something sticky, warm and smelling of iron flowed down my cheek and eye...

After tasting a little, I realized that it was blood. Trying to move, I grasp that the main areas of pain are in the palms and ankles, and I can’t move them normally...

*Crack!*

My back was burned with pain, and the sound of the whip was still ringing in my ears. To my dumb joy, this pain was nothing compared to last night or a couple of particularly bad days at Aldera High ...

I was hit several times, and then somewhere on the side the door swung open and a tall man entered. He was very pale and thin, his black long hair reached his shoulders, anger was read in his red eyes and his lips were open in an animal grin that promised nothing good to anyone

He said something, but I didn’t hear this anymore, having fallen into the quiet and calm nihility...

              ��                                                                                                 The "First of the Twelve" burst into the building where the "Fifth of the Twelve" tortured the Ninth possessor of the damned power of One For All.

“The First” was a friend of the Lord even before he accepted his title, but because of constant attempts to change his plans and "remind him that he is still a human and don't forget about those who are affected by your plans, but who are innocent", that our Lord didn't need, because in His greatness He must be ruthless so that everyone would stand under His wing, was called the "Apostle of Dissent".

The "Apostle of Faith" never trusted him and longed to expel him from the "Pantheon of the Twelve Chosen One's", but couldn't contradict the will of the Lord. What is this traitor doing here, and yet so displeased?

“Greetings to the First of the Twelve. Why did such a busy person honor me with his presence?” In the voice of the Fifth there was a maximum of poison, which he saved up from sermon to sermon, in order to bring down it against His enemies.

"Do you know what you did Agustin Cristobal Teofilo Hose Maria Mora Rey Santos?" In the voice of the First, could hear two hundred years of hate and endless war with heretics and fools.

"I do His will and vengeance on those who are guilty of His fall! The Eighth, most damned and abominable of all Antichrist handed over his power to a boy who believes in him like the Guardian of the Body of our Lord, believes in Him! They must be finally wiped off the face of the earth as He desired at the damned Ground Zero in Kamino, be damned this place thrice! Do not stop me, Traitor, because our Lord is with me!" In the voice of Agustin Cristobal Teofilo Hose Maria Mora Rey Santos, an quirkless priest, disillusioned with Christianity and finding strength in His Church, all burning hatred for the One for All clan poured out. If even though six times the “First of the Damned” was the brother of his Lord, he did not deserve such love from His side, because he couldn’t submt to the Lord. The Lord granted him strength, and because of the ingratitude of His brother, that he could not side with the Lord, like his faithful servant Teofilo Santos.

The First looked at the Fifth with the executioner, who did not know where to start torture, sharply flinched, and then his face shone with dark pleasure and stretched out in an ominous smirk...

"Oh, really? Then I'll probably start and we just look at your reaction. Ghrm. Agustin Cristobal Teofilo Hose Maria Mora Rey Santos, the fourth "Apostle of the Faith", occupying the post of the "Fifth of the Twelve", you are accused of violating the most important of the existing the laws of our Church by me, the first of the Twelve in... Crucifixion the Son of our Lord and heir to the great power of his brother, the legendary One For All ... "Agustin's face froze like a mask, and only misunderstanding danced in his eyes. Which, to the joy of the First, was replaced by a look of absolute horror. "Ghm. And this, apart from other minor and major violations the laws of the "Church of All For One". The sentence for this crime, the most terrible of all possible executions - Imprisonment in "Hell". Seriously, that is the second Apostle of the Faith to which I read such a sentence and this is the second case of violation of this law. Rejoice that you didn't kill him. Ah, and something else. " Going аs close as possible to the former Fifth, so that he could clearly hear his whispers, he whispered:"Our Lord is not with you, but BEHIND you. "

The First went to remove the boy from the cross, and the Fifth began to turn slowly, reading one of the litanies of his God...

"Lord... I didn’t want... I didn’t know, I... I... Aaaaa! Argh!!!"

[thecandywrites]

Jewel Of The North Part 2

So in case you missed it Part 1. Again, many thanks to @monstersandmaw​ for sharing the concept of ice orcs with me and letting me run WILD with it. I’m having so much fun with this. 

Ok, so Zara Kingsley, top left, top right- Doug Kizzo and just under him is supposedly “Wolf Eye” which is a brand of whiskey I made up just for this story. Fun fact- there is actually a high end brand of whiskey called “Wolves” and they sell whiskey the way designer limited edition sneaker/tennis shoes are sold ($150 a bottle and you have to “register” to even get on a list before they’ll send you a bottle, *sigh* rich people, but I am not a rich person in real life which would explain why in every fantasy story I write, I can change that about my character) anyway, I didn’t know was even a thing until after I wrote this and as a point of curiosity, I double checked to see if Wolf Eye whiskey was a thing so I didn’t have to worry about copyright (Which is why names are Like That in this story) And that beautiful plate of seafood is what I envisioned a “king’s platter” would look like vs. A fisherman’s stew which is the picture right above the little girl who I’ve chosen to represent Sakura in this story and we have the lovely Taylor in the bottom left. 

Now let’s go shall we? Off to the Arctic Tundra!

Jewel of the North 

Part 2 

You woke up earlier than you thought you would, mostly because you were still in your Great Lakes time zone. So what was 10am to your body, it was 7am there. You crept out of bed and snuck into the bathroom to brush your teeth and your hair and put a bra on under your pajamas and then as quietly as you could, unpacked your gifts for Taylor and her family and arranged everything on the table as you quickly made a pot of coffee and some toast for your pre-breakfast and the smell of coffee was what roused Taylor and Greg at about 8:30.

“Good morning.” You greeted them warmly as they were both still obviously groggy but both happily shuffled over to the coffee pot to drink their coffee.  

“What’s all this?” Greg asked as he looked at his table which was almost overflowing. 

“Presents, Taylor told me to bring seeds.” You answered. 

“Did you...like...clean out a greenhouse?” Greg chuckled as he looked at the sheer amount and variety you brought. 

“Mmm...more like 5 but that’s not important besides I got to a lot of them just as they were closing out for the season so I got a bunch of it for mere pennies on the dollar and it was just a matter of being in the right place at the right time with money in your pocket.” You giggled with a dismissive wave of your hand. “I don’t do anything small or by half.” You shrugged before you handed him a wrapped present. 

“Oof, that’s heavy.” He realized as he took it from you. “You didn’t have to get me anything...oh my gods, you got me Kraken!” He practically squealed when he opened it and pretended to cry as he hugged the gallon jug. 

“My precious.”  He impersonated Gollum as he pet it which cracked you and Taylor up before you handed her- her own gift as she gasped and tried not to squeal too loudly as she unwrapped a bottle of raspberry peach Grand Marnier. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She practically bounced in her spot, hugging the jug too before she leaned over and hugged you too. 

“Alcohol is so stinking expensive up here it’s ridiculous, thank you so much for bringing this.” Taylor thanked you. 

“Yes, it’s very generous of you, thank you.” Greg mirrored. 

“You’re welcome.” You beamed. 

“You know, we really shouldn’t keep all these seeds for ourselves. We should gift these at the festival. That way all the clans can benefit from this.” Greg realized. 

“I was thinking the exact same thing, I told her that last night when she told me about them.” Taylor nodded in agreement. 

“You got a box we can put it all in for now?” You asked before Taylor grabbed the biggest box she had and the three of you packed the seeds away before you grabbed your other crate that had all the seasonings in it. 

“There’s more?” Greg laughed. 

“Well yeah, Taylor said the local grocery stores are pretty limited on spices so I brought enough of everything that it should last you until we see each other again.” You shrugged. 

“It’s like you brought a spice store with you.” Taylor swooned as she opened some of them and sniffed them before Greg did the same, both of them grinning at the scents in their noses. 

“French toast for breakfast?” You suggested. 

“Hell yeah,” Greg immediately agreed before you and Taylor began to make breakfast before the scents of breakfast woke the kids up. 

“Good morning guys!” You greeted them cheerfully as they stopped and stared at the stranger in the kitchen. 

“This is Zara, she’s a friend of ours so you can call her Auntie Zara and she’s going to be staying with us for about a week.” Taylor introduced you. 

“And I’m really grateful you guys opened your home up so I could stay with you, so I brought you guys presents.” You told them which made all of them gasp in excitement. 

“So, you must be Katie, the sensible older sister.” You asked as you pulled out the presents that had their names on them. 

“Lovely to make your acquaintance Katie,” you greeted her formally as you handed her the wrapped gift. Because tweens always loved it when you treated them like little adults. 

“And you must be Matthew.” You deduced as you handed Taylor’s son his gift before you got on your knees so you could be eye to eye with the toddler. 

“Is your name Jamie?” You asked as Jamie hid his face behind his mother’s leg as Greg and Taylor laughed at his bashfulness. 

“Do you think you could take this gift from me Jamie?” You asked as you held it out to him before he took it and ran away. 

“You got me a race car!” Matthew exclaimed and promptly high fived you as Katie’s jaw dropped at her present. 

“Your mom said it was ok to give you girl pampering stuff, so there’s a few face masks, some nail polish. Fancy hand lotion, a few bath bombs and stuff.” You explained as you pointed everything out before Katie happily enveloped you in a hug. 

“Thank you so much.” Katie thanked you gratefully. 

“You’re welcome sweetie.” You grinned just as Jaimie squealed in delight at his new toy and came running in and nearly knocked you over giving you a hug which got you to cackle laughing so you were left to sit on the kitchen floor while Jamie hugged you before he left to go play with his toy as Matt was already racing his car around the house before the family finally got to sit down to breakfast as the kids got to know you better by asking questions about you and your family and where you lived as you showed them pictures of your own kids and how you were a widow now and what you did for living and your horses and pets and things as Jamie happily ate his breakfast from your lap and stared at you adoringly and practically inhaled half your breakfast which you didn’t mind one bit.  As long as babies ate well, they should thrive and you remembered how your own son Xander was practically a bottomless pit. 

Then the calls started to come in on Greg’s and Taylor’s cell phones, all asking if you were there yet. 

“Yup, Noah flew her in yesterday.” You heard them both say as their phones then started to blow up from texts. 

“Uh, babe…” Taylor looked at her husband in a meaningful look that bordered on concern because word had spread like wildfire as they showed each other their screens, the same people texting both of them, but mostly Taylor because they were hoping she would give better answers than simple yes or no’s that Greg was giving. Except to his brother Doug, who Greg was giving him just about everything that you were sharing with his kids as Doug was already claiming “dibs” to the others. 

“Want to go out to dinner?” Greg offered. 

“Sure.” You nodded. 

“In town there’s really only a few restaurants, Eska’s which is a mom and pop- grandma’s food in a tavern, the bar- Kesuk’s.” Taylor began to list off. 

“Is it the place that has the ‘kitchen sink nachos’?” You asked. 

“Yes.” Taylor beamed. “And it’s not a “dive bar” but it is very much the local watering hole. Now there is a “dive bar” and that is Goose’s. I wouldn’t go to the bathroom there but we will get takeout from there because they make the best double cheeseburger while White’s has the best wings.” Taylor explained. 

“But Swanson’s has the best steaks, but it’s a bit pricey, it’s right next to Gold Horn’s which is the biggest and nicest fishing and hunting retreat around.” Greg explained. 

“And one of the nicest butcher shops because most of the hunters can’t take all that meat home.” Taylor added. 

“Anyway, the locals around here will go to Swanson’s for weddings, anniversaries, birthdays and stuff, pretty special occasions.” Greg continued before they continued to list off all the places around to eat before you decided on Eska’s because it sounded like the ‘safest’ option and spent the afternoon getting ready while you happily walk Katie through your ‘routine’ of getting ready as you, with Taylor and Greg’s permission helped her get dressed up too and put some simple makeup on her as her new ‘auntie’ and by dinner your nerves were already a little frayed because Taylor told you that you were meeting ‘the family’ meaning not only hers but Greg’s too and you had picked up on the hint of Greg talking about his brother and his accomplishments and such and you gave Taylor a meaningful look to which she looked back apologetically. 

If you were honest, you were used to it. If your friend’s mates had failed trying to flirt with you or whatever, often you were ‘introduced’ to so many brothers, friends and especially brother in laws. 

You got to dinner and the ‘family’ was already there, waiting for the table to get ready while ‘Doug’ was running late getting ready and there had to be 20 people there, all of them there to meet which you didn’t mind as you did your best to meet and greet everyone before the table was ready and Taylor had you sit at the end of the table as Greg and Taylor made sure that the seat across from you was Doug’s seat and you asked Katie to sit next to you so you wouldn’t be all alone since there was an empty seat next to Doug’s seat because he liked to “stretch out” as you met Greg’s parents and Taylor’s parents and got got catch up because Glenda, Taylor’s mom had missed your mom and to see pictures of your mom on her horse with your kids made them all happy as they got to know you a little as you kept an eye on the door, waiting for ‘Doug’ before an older woman came in with the cutest little girl you had ever seen in your life then a familiar face came in behind them. 

Noah. 

You instantly blew out a breath of relief at seeing him before a relieved and happy smile plastered itself on your face and you noticed they were walking by you and Noah seemed to see you shortly after you saw him as he soon mirrored your smile as he seemed equally excited to see you. 

“Hey Stranger.” You greeted. 

“Hey, fancy meeting you here, this is my daughter Sakura, this is my mom, Summer.” He introduced. 

“But you can call me Nana Hun.” She warmly smiled at you as you shook her hand. 

“Lovely to meet you Nana, and it’s so lovely to meet you Miss Sakura.” You excitedly greeted them as you crouched down to take a knee so you could be eye level with Sakura, she couldn't be much older than 5 and your heart ached at the thought of her losing her mom so, so young and how hard that must have been for her but you didn't want to bring it up because you didn't want that to be upsetting. 

“You should be really proud of your Daddy, he did such a great job flying me here yesterday.” You praised to Sakura.  

“He’s the best pilot ever!” She agreed which got you and Summer to laugh as Noah chuckled bashfully at the praise. Goodness was she precious. 

“I agree!” You confirmed with a very exaggerated head nod. 

“So you’re Paradise?” She asked in awed wonder as she stared at you. 

“Uh...oh, are you talking about how I look like a paradise orc?” You asked as you ran your hand over your skin of your exposed arm and she nodded before you nodded in confirmation. 

“My Grandma’s tea leaves told her that my daddy would be meeting Paradise yesterday.” She proudly informed you as you could see Noah turn a deep sapphire as his smile turned slightly nervous as he gave his mother the side eye. 

“Your Grandma reads tea leaves? Mine does too! Only the way my Grandma does it, I think she reads them wrong because they tell her things like my son was ‘a ball’, which, to be honest when I was pregnant with him, I looked like I swallowed a ball and when he was six months old he was almost as wide as he was tall and very, very round because he was a fantastic eater and he’s still practically a bottomless pit but he’s turned out pretty normal so far, he doesn’t ‘bounce’ too much.” You shrugged with an easy grin which got Sakura to giggle at the joke which got you to laugh as Noah and Summer chuckled too. 

“But that was really cool that your Grandma’s tea leaves told her that I was coming,” You nodded solemnly. “Did they tell her anything else?” You whispered as you leaned forward as she smiled and giggled and nodded. 

“Can you tell me?” You asked hopefully as she looked up to Nana for permission before Nana nodded her permission as well- completely ignoring Noah who looked particularly terrified at the notion and was shaking his head subtly to his mother and his daughter ‘no’ but it was like they couldn’t see him before she came up and put her hands over your ear. 

“They said that you were the best mom ever.” Sakura whispered and your heart melted and you almost wanted to cry. 

“Well I try, really hard, every day- to be the best one I can be so that’s true.” You confirmed. “And you know what? I tend to adopt every kid that’s around me, so if you see me and if you need or want anything at all, you just let me know ok? And I’m not offering that just to be nice, I mean it. I don’t offer anything unless I’m prepared to be taken up on it. I’m only here for like a week and a half but while I’m here if I’m needed somewhere to either help your dad on the plane or help watch you, I’ll happily do it ok?” You generously offered because you just instantly adored this child and could tell she was just a sweetheart and you just...loved her. The way your love surged for your children when you got to hold them for the first time, that same love was surging for her. Something about her found every heart string you had and pulled on them and made them into a bow and you would happily wrap yourself around her little delicate fingers as you just stayed there smiling at each other before Doug cleared his throat which made you turn your head away to see Greg next to what you assumed was his brother who was dressed really nicely as they both smiled expectantly at you. 

“Hi, be with you in a minute.” You greeted them with a polite smile before you turned back to Sakura. 

“Now, you go enjoy your dinner ok Sakura?” You urged her before she launched herself into your arms before you gladly caught her and hugged her, grateful you had taken a knee so you weren’t knocked backwards. 

“How did you know I loved hugs?” You cooed as you hugged her tight and rubbed her back and just held her until she let go first because you knew that some kids just needed a good long hug and you didn’t care if you were making Greg and Doug and everyone else wait, all that mattered was Sakura and the poor baby just needed a hug. 

When Sakura finally pulled away she was smiling and her eyes were just a little glassy from unshed tears before you reached into your purse and got her a tissue and your business card. 

“This is my cell phone number. You call this, and if I’m working when you call, just leave a message and I’ll call you back as fast as I can and if I’m not working when you call, I’ll pick up ok? I’ll always pick up.” You offered and it only felt odd as an afterthought that you just met this child and you were kicked so hard and so high into mom gear that you would already go to the moon and back and bend over backwards for her but it felt like the right thing to do and the best thing you could do for her. 

“Thank you.” She thanked you graciously. 

“You’re welcome Sweetheart.” You cooed to her as you squeezed her little hands in yours before you reluctantly let them go because Greg cleared his throat again before Noah took the hint and ushered his family to sit in the booth directly behind where you would be sitting. Which was nice that they were so close as you stood to your full height. 

“Thank you so much for your patience. I’m Zara Kingsley, the LMT from the Great Lakes.” You introduced yourself to the man who had a familial resemblance to Greg as you politely shook his hand from across the table. He was handsome, that usual olive green skin, gold amber eyes, jet black hair, he was obviously younger by the way he styled his hair and his hipster- black t-shirt, black blazer, skinny jean look and the way he proudly carried himself, his chest puffed out all proud, like a peacock showing off his plumage. You could tell he knew he was one of the most handsome men in the room and his ego was too big for the place. You knew from Greg that he was practically a decade younger than you too. His ex wife had been one of the prettiest women in the Arctic Tundra but they divorced after five years and two kids because they both were having affairs. 

“Does every kid treat you like a visiting Disney Princess?” He asked pleasantly which got you to chuckle. 

“Yes, very much so, which I don’t mind at all.” You shrugged. 

“Well it’s understandable, with a name like Kingsley, it’s kind of a given you should be treated like royalty everywhere you go.” Doug flattered and you heard Noah cough a ‘damn’ behind you like he had just gotten hit in the gut and even you had to admit that was a pretty smooth line. Although it wasn’t the first time you heard that. 

“Thanks,” you nodded. Oh gods. This was going to be the longest dinner ever. He was just going to spit game at you all night and you just wanted to turn around and invite yourself to dinner with Sakura and her family as you slipped back into your seat because you were not about wait for Doug here to come around the table to pull out your chair because you were pretty sure he’d try to sneak a peek into your cleavage as he would try to too. The game was on and you were in no mood to be chased by Doug. 

Noah though, no he could chase you like the silver fox he was because he was just barely getting a few gray hairs on the sides of his head  and it made him all kinds of distinguished and made you all hot and bothered and you could already fantasize his head between your legs, with your thighs resting on his broad shoulders- your powerful thighs clamping around his ears as his tongue…

Oh, that’s right, Doug was talking to you. Damn it. 

“I’m sorry what was that?” You asked as you tried hard to refocus on Doug and what he was saying, thankfully the restaurant had gotten louder since Doug sat down directly across from you and started talking and it was kind of hard to hear him anyway. 

“I asked how you’re liking the Frozen Tundra.” He repeated. 

“Oh it’s wonderful. It’s gorgeous and the people are lovely, very kind and generous and welcoming.” You grinned politely as the waitress came over. 

“What can I get you to drink?” She asked you. 

“Anything sweet and fruity?” You asked hopefully. 

“Lethal too or just light?” She questioned. 

“Ooh, lethal.” You couldn’t help but giggle because you would need it to persevere Doug’s advances as Doug started to grin a little wolfishly. Ha! Like he had a chance of scoring with you tonight. 

“For sweet and fruity and lethal you have two choices, cloud berry punch or purple peach punch.” 

“Purple peach.” You ordered. 

“Half or full?” She asked. 

“What’s the difference?” You asked curiously. 

“A half is served in a tumbler. A full is served in a mason jar and has an order limit of three.” She answered. 

“Oh yeah, my kind of drink, a full please and thank you.” You ordered gleefully. 

“Do you want your usual Doug?” She asked moving onto him. 

“Actually could I get a glass of Wolf Eye?” He asked and you nearly snorted a laugh and covered it up with a cough. May the gods grant you patience to deal with this pretentious asshole. While Wolf Eye was a decent whiskey, it was only popular because celebrities thought it was awesome and the bottle was *couture*. Just like any other designer name brand. 

“Do you like whisky?” He asked. 

“I do.” You nodded. 

“Could I also get her a glass too?” He asked. 

“Sure.” She nodded before she got everyone else’s drink order. 

“Wolf Eye is one of the better whiskies.” You appraised. 

“Have you ever had it before?” He asked. 

“Yes I have. My sister Blossom is a whiskey geek/ whiskey snob, my sister Blossom’s husband is a whiskey geek/snob too and my own parents and my brother are all beer snobs while my baby sister Anya is a bartender and she gave me a shot of it once. Usually it’s too rich for my blood to order it though.” You confessed. Even though you had three bottles of it at home from your wealthier clients. 

“What about you? Is there any kind of alcohol you’re really into?” He asked.

“It doesn’t really compare to Wolf Eye.” You answered as you realized you probably looked bashful, when really, you were dreading being judged. 

Every guy- without fail who got you a glass of Wolf Eye were trying to show you how fancy and couture they were- thinking that because you were jewel orc- you somehow should have very refined, expensive tastes. When in reality, you didn’t. Honestly once those guys heard what you loved- they thought less of you. Or the guys who found out what you liked and weren’t pretentious assholes somehow felt that because you didn’t have “refined” tastes in wine or other booze, that that spilled over into your taste of men which couldn’t be farther from the truth. You were picky as hell when it came to men. 

Although if you were honest, you loved your clichés- the bubble gum pop music, sweet fruity wine and cocktails and peppermint mochas and sappy romance novels and romantic comedy movies and you would preferably have all of those at the same time while in the comfort of a bathtub with a bath bomb fizzing away. But that was a world away from this. 

“Oh don’t feel bad, you like what you like.” He reassured you but you laughed that laugh that said ‘oh you don’t know what you’re really asking’. 

“No I insist, I promise not to judge you based on your answer.” He vowed and you didn’t believe him one bit. 

“Ok. So, honestly, in my family- food wise, I’m the queen because I love to cook and I cook really well and my brand of hospitality is you are not allowed to leave my house hungry but drink wise, I’m like the black sheep of the family because I love flavored alcohol, the kind of liquor that’s low on the proof and mostly flavoring, so flavored moonshines and flavored rums and vodkas and especially liqueurs and things like that. The cheap ones that you just pour into some juice and it’s instantly a fruity cocktail. That’s my speed. Sweet and fruity.” You shrugged as the waitress came back and gave you your drinks as you graciously took the glass that had whiskey in it and sniffed it and swished it around the way your sisters always did before you took a tentative sip. 

Yup. It was whiskey. Could you tell the difference between a scotch, a whiskey or a bourbon? Nope. Could you tell the difference between a $20 bottle of whiskey or a $70 whiskey, hell to the nope. The only thing you noticed was if it burned or was smooth or not. You knew that all scotches were whiskeys but not all whiskeys were scotches and that was the extent of your knowledge. Honestly if this glass was full of peach whiskey you’d probably like it better. But you knew how to be a gracious recipient of a gift. And you had your manners to keep. 

“Very good.” You praised, pretending you knew what the fuck you were drinking as he took a sip and practically moaned and for some reason, that noise coming from him was making you want to gag and one look at Katie who frowned at him was nearly causing you to burst into laughter. Even she could smell his bullshit, which to you was hilarious and part of the reason you wanted her close. Having someone like a niece or a sister or the best ones - a mother or a grandmother, or someone close to whoever you were paired with tended to keep whoever it was- in line- and would keep them from asking inappropriate questions or delving into inappropriate topics of conversation. It was a strategy you learned to employ often in these circumstances. 

“So Greg told me that you’re divorced.” You put to him. 

“I am divorced and I have two kids, two boys, Doug Jr. who we just call Jr. and Kent, Jr is 5 and Kent is three.” He answered. 

“Aw, they must be adorable, where are they?” You asked. 

“They’re with their mom tonight.” He answered. 

“Oh, well I would have loved to meet them, I love kids, I also have two of my own, Xander and Skylar, but they’re a bit older, Xander is 9 and Skylar is 7.” You answered before you pulled out your phone and showed him as he showed you his kids. 

“And Greg said you have joint custody of your boys?” You asked. 

“Yup, they get to spend the week with their mom and the weekend with me.” He answered. “And their mother is about to remarry so the bitch won’t bleed me dry with alimony and child support for too much longer now.” He groused and you took a measured deep breath in to keep your face neutral as you heard Summer murmur into her drink. ‘Lucky woman’ and somehow you got the distinct impression that his ex-wife was lucky to have divorced him and to have gotten alimony and child support and just seeing Doug and after knowing him for a whole 2 seconds- you could agree with that sentiment. You could just sense that he was a narcissistic asshole. And your late husband had been one of those and there was no way in hell you were ever doing that again. 

“But I understand you don’t have that problem because you’re a widow. Obviously a young one.” He returned as you could tell he was trying to age you. 

“Yup, that’s true, my late husband Andrew was in an accident at work about two years ago, but I’m not that young. I’m 35.” You answered and he paused. Greg had told him early thirties, you were mid thirties. You looked great for mid thirties but that was practically middle aged and you only had what- another 5 years of child bearing age left in you? Not that long. But you were supposed to be a rich widow who worked in some kind of spa and had married into a rich family and drop dead gorgeous, he could work with that. 

“Wow you really good for your thirties. How long have you been dating since then?” He asked. 

“I haven’t really been dating much or for very long, just in the last couple of months actually. I wanted to give myself and the rest of my family time to grieve properly and not rush into anything that not only I wasn’t ready for but that my kids weren’t ready for and it wasn’t until a couple of months ago that they let me know that they were ok with me trying to date again because they are the most important people in my life and I’m really picky about who I let around my kids too. So I can understand why you didn’t want to bring your kids to meet me.” You answered as Greg was kicking himself for not bringing his kids because obviously you connected to kids and if his kids would behave long enough and well enough you could have bonded to his kids and made him a shoe in and this could have been a done deal already. 

“So, Greg told me that you work in the fishing industry.” You prompted him. 

“I do, I’m a sales executive for First Star, which ships all kinds of seafood all over the world.” He answered proudly. “And the pay is really good and there’s always sales incentives and I get bonuses often.” He grinned smugly as he fingered his heavy gold chain necklace around his neck and he put on way too much cologne. It was almost burning your nose and making your eyes water a little.  

“Wow, do you have a business card?” You nodded, pretending to be impressed before he very proudly pulled out his wallet and you could see from his billfold that he must have had at least a thousand dollars on him. He was flexing for your benefit and judging by his gold rings and gold banded tusks and just the general decked out nature of his attire. He was definitely showing off for you as he handed you a brand new business card. It was fancy but...not as fancy or as nice as yours. 

“Very nice. Remind me to call you before I leave so I can buy a case or two of crab and ship it home and have my mom put it in my deep freeze freezer.” You urged him. 

“Oh, you won’t have to buy them, I’ll happily gift you whatever you want.” He generously offered. 

“Aw, that’s very generous of you. Thank you.” You thanked him even though the way he said that you were pretty sure he had another "payment" in mind but this was polite company and Katie was right next to you and you didn't want to expose her to what you assumed was that particular side of her uncle just yet but if he exposed himself that was on him. 

“So being a sales rep does your income base itself on how good the fishermen’s catches are or is it pretty stable, like no matter what they catch, you’re bringing home a salary?” You questioned thoughtfully. 

“Oh it’s a salaried position and it’s all year long, unlike the fisherman who only run on the boats for a fishing season, like the different kinds of crab have their seasons and the different kinds of seafood all have their own seasons.” He answered. “Or even the pilots who only fly during the spring summer and fall, which is only like a three month window up here and have to live off of that all year long.” He answered as he cast a look past you to see Noah who was pretending to enjoy his own beer instead of eavesdropping. 

Oh this son of a bitch had to go for the low blow of putting others down to build himself up. Ok. Honestly you were grateful he was telling on himself like that. 

“So are we ready to order?” The waitress asked as she came over, after having gotten Noah’s order already and you were following along with the menu and you already decided that you wanted the same thing because it sounded amazing. 

“Yes can I have the King’s platter?” Doug ordered. 

“It’s a huge platter, we could share it.” Doug offered to you. 

“Oh, no thanks, can I just get the fisherman’s special with the seafood stew?” You requested sweetly. 

“Sure thing.” She nodded as she wrote that down and continued to get everyone’s meal. 

“So I understand you’re a masseuse?” He asked excitedly once the waitress left. 

“No. I’m a licensed massage therapist, LMT for short.” You gently corrected. 

“What’s the difference?” He frowned. 

“A masseuse uses “massage” as their cover for being a prostitute, which honestly if you’re going to be in the oldest profession, just be honest about it and don’t call it massage. Which, again, if you chose to do that,  I don’t judge, I have strippers as clients because they take self care to a whole new level and everything they get from me is a tax write off for them so it’s a win win. However, a licensed massage therapist actually went to massage school and has a license to practice massage just like a doctor has a license to practice medicine and we are held accountable to a board or in my case- to the state medical board just like any other nurse and doctor and an LMT never gives happy endings or has sex with clients in any way shape or form.” You answered with a proud smile. 

“Oh,” Doug nodded and even you could see he was trying to hide his disappointment. 

“So, are you able to make any kind of real money off of massage or is this just a hobby for you?” He asked and you were ready to dump this overpriced whiskey in his face, but that would be alcohol abuse and an insult to the whiskey itself. 

“Well massage has been a passion of mine since I was a kid, so you could call it a hobby that turned into a career. But I’m more interested in what constitutes as “real money” in your opinion.” You posed curiously. 

“Anything more than forty or fifty thousand a year.” He patronized. 

“I take it you make more than 50 thousand a year then.” You deduced as you overheard Noah whisper to his mother. ‘I barely make ‘real money’ then.’ 

“Oh I make a few times that. I make about two hundred thousand a year.” He bragged. 

“Yeah I can see you’re wearing most of it.” You appraised and Noah snorted his beer and nearly choked on it trying to cover up his laugh because your unimpressed tone was giving him life as you heard a hissed ‘yes’ from Noah. 

“You’re one of the lucky ones then. I make about the same. A little over 200 thousand a year actually.” You answered evenly like it was no big deal. 

“What? H-how?” Doug frowned in shock.

“Well I have four businesses, all four of them are solely in my name and I own all four outright and none of them have any debt while each of them have their own assets, so my massage business which makes me about a hundred- to a hundred and twenty five thousand dollars a year, my esthetician business which makes me another fifty to sixty thousand dollars a year and then the sales of my massage products, essential oils and esthetician products, skin care line, makeup, all that goods stuff to round it out with another thirty five to fifty thousand dollars a year and the fourth business is the shareholder for all three businesses and I only have to work about thirty to thirty five hours a week in total to do it too and I only work about 9 to 10 months a year.” You beamed proudly as Doug’s eyebrows practically went up into his hairline as you heard Noah murmur a ‘damn’ which you imagined was muffled because he must have said it into his fist behind you. 

“W-why?” Doug stuttered as he struggled to wrap his head around all that.  

“Well,  when my husband was alive, he made about a hundred and twenty five thousand dollars a year and when he died, I turned all four of those businesses which at the time were the side businesses I had to earn my own spending money into my full time career to replace his income when he died because you see I specialize in…” You began as you brought out your business card and listed everything off from the back and added to the additional certifications that weren’t on the card.  

“Not bad for a “hobby” huh?” You asked with a smug grin as you heard Noah practically whistle lowly behind you and clap ever so softly and you would have given anything for a mirror to see his face, hoping he was at least impressed. 

“Uh, nope, not bad at all.” Doug had to admit. 

“So if you got remarried and the man you married could provide you with his income that would either equal or surpass your own would you still continue to work or would you scale back? Retire?” Doug asked thoughtfully. 

“It depends.” You answered simply.  

“On?” Doug prodded. 

“It would depend on the circumstances and the person.” You specified. 

“Such as?” 

“Well, I’ve been very lucky in that I have the four thriving businesses and because I have a very good and very expansive client base where I live and I fill a niche that very few others can fill in my area and because I live just 20 to 30 minutes outside of few major cities because I’m centrally located in the country in between all of them and I work out of my own private space at my home and the home I work out of is my dream home, it’s a home that my late husband and myself designed together and it’s awesome and the only way I’m moving is if I find a home that’s even better than the one I have and that criteria is pretty extensive plus I’m very well supported and well known and have a reputation that I regularly bank on every year and speaking of support, I have my parents who live right next door and my in-laws live only 15 minutes away and all of them are very involved in my children’s lives. So honestly, I’m not gonna move unless I find circumstances even better than the ones I already have and the person I would be moving for can give me things that I don’t already have which is basically at this point- unconditional love, respect, recognition, dignity, sympathy, empathy, kindness, understanding and freedom to keep my independence that I already have so that if I so choose I could basically start my businesses over again in a new area.” You specified. 

“So...what is your criteria for a potential mate?” Doug asked, hoping that you would list off things that he could try to shoot for. 

“Well, whoever I choose to marry- he can’t drink to excess, he can’t do drugs, he can’t have a bad temper, he can not yell or scream at me or my children, he can’t be abusive in any way shape or form or I will kick him to the curb faster than lightning strikes but he doesn’t have to make as much as I do or make more than me or whatever. If he had a job that he was passionate about and he loved it as much as breathing which, for me, that’s what my career represents to me, I do what I do because I love it, it’s what I was put on this planet to do and I’m really good at it and to a degree, it’s a skill I can practice anywhere as long as I have a pool of clientele to pull from so there’s some flexibility there.” You mused and you saw Doug nod along with your train of thought so at least it was making sense to him. 

“But for me to give it all up for someone and be absolutely dependent on my partner for everything- probably isn’t going to happen because there is inherently a power dynamic that I’ve been on the losing side of in my past marriage. Because my husband had a great job with fantastic health insurance and other benefits and shouldered all the financial responsibility of the family which had its perks because that freed up my time to pursue what I wanted to and he could afford to send me to school to get all these licenses and certifications. But because he made all the money, he felt he had the right to demand whatever he wanted in return and he had a say so on how I spent the money he gave me to care for- as he put it- “his house” and “his vehicles” and such because he’s the one that paid for it all and he was a controlling narcissist. Now, was he all bad? No, he was a fantastic father and he was decent enough as a husband in that he didn’t beat me, didn’t drink to excess, didn’t smoke, didn’t gamble, didn’t do drugs, didn’t cheat on me and didn’t scream at me or cuss me out in front of the kids but I couldn’t get a credit card in my name without him knowing and he tracked me on my phone everywhere I went and if I wanted anything “extra” I had to “earn it”, like a child earns extra screen time for doing their chores kind of thing. It was all about a power dynamic and if I didn’t support him in everything he said, he got after me for not being “a good submissive wife” or “a team player”. And after 13 years of that, I’m done. I’ve had more than enough of that and I will be damned if I ever let that happen to me again. I’m not interested in that dynamic at all. No matter what side of it I find myself on.” You specified as Doug just stared at you, a bit guiltily as he was rather speechless and blushing profusely like you had just pulled his pants down and exposed him and you didn’t feel any guilt for it either and the look on Katie’s face told you that you hit the nail on the head and were preaching truth and her smile of adoration and awe was priceless.  

“I have clients that easily double, triple, quadruple even- my own salary because they’re doctors or surgeons or executives or whatever. But they’re the kind of men who feel emasculated when a woman they’re with earns anything because their income is what they base their own masculinity on which is a very dangerous and stupid thing to do in my opinion. And while these men may be really good at earning an income, that’s all they’re good at. Otherwise they’re shitty husbands and fathers. They feel that because they earn so much money that they don’t have to help out at all around their own homes. Heaven forbid they change poopy diapers, do any dishes or laundry or especially scrub a toilet and if they do any of those things, by the gods they will piss and moan and gripe and complain forever and feel “owed” that they did more than their “share”, which is bullshit. They would rather hire someone else to do any or all of that because they feel that’s beneath them as manly, masculine men and feel that a wife’s only job is to stay in their home, raise their kids and clean their house and look flawless while doing so and feel that the only support they need to give her is financial. Which, in my opinion is complete and utter fucking bullshit.”  You explained as you watched Doug’s frown get deeper and deeper the more you talked as you heard Noah hum in agreement to that sentiment. 

“So... you’re basically just looking for a Mr. Mom?” Doug asked and you could tell by his tone he was offended and incensed just saying those words. 

“To a degree, yes. But what I’m really looking for- is a partner who will view and treat me as an equal instead of a lesser or a supporting cast member while they’re the star of the show. Right now I do everything all by myself because I have to and I will continue to do so for as long as I need to because my children need me to be their everything. If I’m going to enter into any kind of romantic relationship, I would look for someone who’s willing to put in work. Someone who will happily and willingly pick up slack and support me as much as I support them. Someone who will work to gain not just my respect and admiration but my children’s respect and admiration as well and it doesn’t matter how much I like or even love a guy, if my kids are uncomfortable around him or just plain don’t like him. I’m not going to force the relationship onto them. Now there have been a couple of guys who my children really clicked with but I didn’t because they were either immature or had other issues and I’m pretty sure the only reason why my kids liked them is because these guys never told them ‘no’ and bought them whatever they asked for which is no way to raise children. There’s ways of telling them no and explaining your reasons why you’re telling them no without belittling them, hurting their feelings, implying they’re stupid or annoying for asking.” You explained as you heard Noah murmur an ‘Amen’ from behind you and instantly you saw all the hope and lust in Doug’s eyes die because he realized that this wasn’t going to work out for him just as dinner came. 

Conversation dissolved into idle chit chat while he practically wolfed his food down as quickly as he could and drank his whiskey and excused himself and quickly paid the waitress for his meal and only his meal and begrudgingly- your wolf eye whiskey too, saying he had work to do at home and you were so grateful when he left and so relieved when you peeked over your shoulder to see Noah still there, finishing up his dinner as Katie got up to go to the bathroom, leaving you alone at the end of the table as Sakura and Summer went to the bathroom too. 

“Do you like whiskey?” You asked him hopefully as you leaned backward in your chair towards him. 

“Yeah,” he confirmed. 

“You ok drinking after me?” You put to him. 

“Yup.” He nodded before you took your glass of Wolf Eye and put in on his table. 

“The whiskey’s good, I just can’t enjoy it knowing a pretentious asshole bought it for me, but I don’t think you’ll have that issue enjoying it yourself. Enjoy.” You beamed at him which got him to laugh. 

“Cheers.” He offered before you got your own drink and clinked it with his. 

“Cheers.” You mirrored. Even though dinner didn’t go as planned, you got to share a drink with Noah and that was more than you hoped for before Sakura and Summer came back. 

“Nana, I forgot my bow.” Sakura realized as she reached up to find that the bow she had been wearing in her hair was gone. 

“I can go back to the bathroom and help you look for it.” You happily offered before she took your hand and led you back to the bathroom as you grabbed your purse too. 

“Are you going to date Mr. Kizzo?” She asked you as you went into each stall, looking for her bow. 

“No, absolutely not, he is not the man for me.” You shook your head adamantly. 

“Oh good, his boys are mean.” She pouted. 

“Have they been mean to you?” You asked as your protective urges surged again. 

“They play really rough and they knocked me down and they didn’t even say sorry!” She complained and you gasped in horror. 

“No! How rude! Well if we ever go anywhere together and they’re there, point them out to me and I’ll protect you.” You insisted before you found her bow sitting on top of the toilet paper dispenser in the last stall before you quickly sprayed some sanitizer on it before you had her take a seat in one of the chairs in the bathroom so you could brush her hair and get it looking gorgeous again because you kept a little brush in your purse. 

“My Daddy likes you.” She blurted as you brushed her hair out. 

“Aw, I like your Daddy too, he’s a really good guy, he’s sweet and caring and protective and I can tell he loves you a lot and he works really hard to take care of you.” You praised as you smiled happily at her in the mirror. 

“He cries a lot.” She revealed. 

“Well I cry a lot too,” you nodded. 

“He cries because he misses my mama,” she added.

“Well, I can understand that because your Daddy and I both lost our marriage mates and we miss them sometimes and the happier we were with them and the more we loved them, the more we miss them and the more it hurts to lose them. Do you cry a lot too because you miss your mama?” You asked gently as she nodded. 

“I’m so sorry you lost your mama sweetie, I can’t imagine how much that must hurt.” You sympathized with her before she got out of the chair and reached her arms up before you readily picked her up and held her tight as she started crying before you took the seat in the chair and just held her as she cried on your shoulder and you just held her and rocked her gently and comforted her before Nana came into the bathroom. 

“What happened?” Nana asked. 

“I was brushing her hair and she told me her daddy cries because he misses her mama and I completely sympathize.” You told her as you did your best to keep your composure but you were failing spectacularly because you were an empath, her pain felt like your own as Summer pulled up another chair from the nursing mother’s area as she shot Noah a quick text just as Taylor came in looking for you and seeing how Sakura was crying in your arms, she instantly knew what was going on. 

“Noah and Anarra, or ‘Neena’ as she was better known as- were basically Frozen Tundra’s sweethearts. Neena still is greatly missed, she took care of a lot of the older ones whose kids have moved away or are on the coast making their money on the fishing vessels and when she got sick, everyone rallied around her but...by the time she started showing signs she was sick- it was too late. None of us have been the same since she passed away. Noah puts on a pretty strong face but he’s probably the most fragile.” Nana revealed as you nodded in understanding as Taylor nodded along too. 

Taylor had told you about “Neena” because Taylor and Neena were best friends and you didn’t put it together until just now that Anarra and Neena were one and the same which would explain why you and her had gotten so close so quickly because you had bonded over your losses as Sakura’s cries turned into whimpers and sniffles as you just held her and pet her head and her hair and held her and rocked her as she curled up in your lap and happily soaked up all your affections as you kissed the crown of her head affectionately as she clung to you as Nana and Taylor filled you in on the situation. 

“Neena had brain cancer. One day she was fine, the next, she had such strange symptoms and doctors around here are rare and expensive and by the time we found it, it was too late, there wasn’t anything we could do. She barely had enough time to make some videos for Sakura. She died holding her.” Taylor said as she nodded towards Sakura in your arms as you wrapped your arms tighter around Sakura as your heart effectively broke in your chest. 

“Her last words were how much she loved her and Noah.” Nena added as you passed around your thing of tissues because you were crying your makeup off. 

“My husband’s last words to me were a ‘honey do’ list, which was- ‘do the dishes, do the laundry, clean the bathroom and to brush my damn cats’ who he hated and I’m so grateful they outlived him, I know that sounds awful but they love me more than he ever did and he wasn’t dead a week before I went to the local shelter and adopted a dog for each member of my family and another cat so that there’s three cats and three dogs and we were renting from his parents at the time and before it was only because I bore them their only grandchildren that I got the ‘privilege’ of having the two cats before. And they didn’t dare argue with a new angry widow about ‘protection’ dogs for their only grandkids and didn’t want me moving away into a new place just to get them animals while we waited for our house to be built.” You revealed. 

“Did he at least have life insurance?” Nana asked which made you nod emphatically. 

“Yeah Andy wasn’t an idiot or heartless, he had a life insurance policy through work and a private one as well and because it was an accidental death at work, it paid out even more and his parents had a life insurance policy on him too that they handed over to me because they had the good sense to have life insurance policies on me and him so that if anything ever happened to the both of us, they could raise our kids comfortably and at the time, I was working for another outfit and even I had my own life insurance policy on him so we’re all set, the house is paid off, all debt is paid off, all the vehicles are paid off, I own everything outright. Other than utilities and of course food and insurance, which I can easily take care of myself, we’re ok.” You answered. 

“Did Neena have any kind of life insurance?” You asked and Taylor and Nana both shook their heads no. 

“No, Noah barely had enough money at the time to cover the funeral. When she died in the fall, at least he didn’t have to work and could stay home with Sakura and he already knew how to take care of himself and her because Neena was always caring for others, which he was very proud of her for doing and he supported that. He was always helping her to help others because so many ice orc men have moved away chasing “better lives” anywhere other than here and ice orc women are left to either do the same or stay behind and have to deal with the others who come up here, either looking for gold or fish or lumber or other resources and it used to be every summer solstice that all the tribes would get together and alliances were maintained and marriages made but all the young people are rejecting those practices because they feel they don’t have a place in the modern world. Our ways are dying, our languages are dying and Neena was one of the few women who embraced the old ways and was teaching all the kids the native languages. And when she died, a lot of the same older ones reached out to Noah and helped him with what they could and unfortunately after Neena died, some of the older ones she took care of followed, but they left Sakura everything because Neena was like a daughter to them and because she took care of them, all they could do is leave her what they could leave behind and when Neena died, that left Sakura as heir in her mother’s place, but she’s a child. She’s had so many men come back to claim what they felt was their birthright, which is mostly land at this point but thankfully the courts upheld Sakura’s rights as heir since their parent’s had the good sense to get it writing with the local lawyer who fights for the clan’s rights.” Nana explained. 

“That’s...that’s a coincidence, I know exactly how that feels.” You nodded. 

“How?” Nana asked as she tilted her head. 

“When Andy died, I was really close to several older clients as well, I got to work on them when they were at retirement age and came into my work and when their health declined, I stayed with them because they were close friends and I wanted their last moments to be in peace and as pain free as possible. They didn’t have any family to take care of them either and I endeared myself to them enough so that when I lost Andy, they all individually entailed everything they had to me too because I was their favorite person and they wanted to make sure I wouldn’t financially suffer because of my husband dying. Within six months of losing Andy, I lost almost all of them within a span of only three months. So the nine months that followed Andy’s death were just...the worst. But then to meet with dozens of lawyers and get check after check, after check, and deeds and titles and property and vehicles, I was so...numb. It didn’t mean anything to me, but man did I sure learn a lot very quickly about how to handle my newfound fortune. But the worst of it was the vultures circling because it felt like the minute I inherited all that money and property myself, suddenly every vulture of a guy somehow found me and circled me like wolves. Cause I was this “hot young desperate lonely widow” who didn’t know how to handle that much fortune and here were all these ‘knights in shining armor’ coming to “help me out” and “be there for me”. It was ridiculous, as if I couldn’t see right through them and what made it even worse was the way Andy died at work, it was a freak accident that killed not just him but five others. So the company he worked for sued the company who built the crystal grower because this was a known and very well documented issue. And the company used my picture because I was ‘the prettiest of the widows’ in the news and in the courts and they won and I got the lion’s share of the settlement because I was the one who was the public face of it and because I was the public face of it, I had organization after organization reach out to me to try to help me out too and by that point I had 5 very good lawyers and a private investigator in my pocket who were more than eager to be at my disposal. So I know exactly what it’s like to be an unwitting heiress. It’s really, really hard, thank the gods my in-laws are so great with money because they’ve been helping me structure it and organize it and keep it all and make it work for me.” You revealed lowly. 

“Could you teach Noah and Sakura any of those lessons?” Nana asked hopefully. 

“I would be more than happy to, I feel I need to at this point.” You admitted. 

“Because no one else around here knows what to do or how to help. Even now Noah’s dad Ukluk works as guide at Gold Horn and pilots his own bush plane for the hunters but it doesn’t pay as well as others, Noah’s brother Nago works for the postal service but he and his family are in June Neau. And now even Neena’s parents are no spring chickens. I know they would really appreciate it if they knew you could protect Sakura and Noah with what you know.” Nana insisted. 

“Consider it done,” you agreed. 

“So are you ever gonna get married again?” Sakura finally spoke up. 

“I would like to.” You answered honestly. 

“What are you looking for?” She asked. 

“I just want to be with someone who makes me happy and loves me for me and loves my kids as their own too who won’t hurt us but will protect us.” You answered. 

“What if they already have kids?” She asked. 

“Then I would hope that their kids would like me too, I do love being a mom, it’s the best job on the planet in my opinion and if those kids would let me love them as much as I love my own- even better and if my kids and those kids could get along, oh man, I’d be so so so happy. You see it doesn’t matter he’s rich or poor or whatever, money doesn’t matter to me. Who and what kind of person they are and how they treat others- that’s all that matters to me.” 

“And if they happen to be well endowed enough so that when...” Taylor double clicked her teeth. “Happens, you can’t walk straight after...” She hinted which made Nana raspberry her laugh. 

“That’s a bonus.” You readily agreed which made you start to laugh through your tears which made them do the same. 

“Well Noah’s you know,” Taylor implied as she clicked her teeth and winked which got you and Nana to start busting out laughing. 

“He’s what aunt Tay-tay?” Sakura asked as she turned to look at Taylor.

“Handsome, he’s very handsome.” You quickly supplied which earned you a solemn nod and an appreciate grin from Nana. 

“Ok, no more tears, let’s get cleaned up.” Nana insisted which prompted you to gently get Sakura off your lap so you could rinse the rest of your makeup off in the sink before all four of you left the bathroom to see Noah looking particularly worried. 

“Everything ok Pumpkin?” He asked his daughter. 

“Yup, we were telling Paradise about Mama.” Sakura told him. Every trace of sadness now gone as a happy smile plastered itself on her face. 

“And she brushed my hair and braided my hair and held me and comforted me and everything, can she come over to our house to watch me?” She asked. 

“If she wants to.” Noah answered. 

“I would love to, just give me the address, I’ll be there any day you need me there, free of charge.” You immediately offered. 

“Work an extra long day tomorrow Daddy, I want to watch my movies with her.” Sakura insisted which got Nana to snicker a laugh. 

“Uh,” Noah stuttered. 

“I can do tomorrow.” You immediately agreed. 

“You could have Taylor and her kids come too, because usually Taylor watches her on Tuesdays.” Nana added. 

“We’d love to.” Taylor immediately agreed as well. 

“So it’s a date. What time should I be over?” 

“He leaves early, like six in the morning.” Nana informed you. 

“Won’t be a problem. I’ll be there at like 5:30 then.” You insisted. 

“I won’t be there that early, I’m going to sleep in until a decent hour and come by later but we’ll drive by and show you where Noah lives and you could walk there if you wanted to because he’s like a ten minute walk away, five if you run because normally, she spends the night so that I don’t have to get up that early.” Taylor added. 

“But my body is still on Great Lakes Time Zone so 5:30 am here is only 8:30 am to me which is a normal time for me to wake up. So it’s not a problem at all.” You reassured Nana and Noah. 

“Ok, thank you, very much.” Noah nodded as he avoided Nana’s smug grin that screamed ‘I told you so’. 

“Well good night then, sweet dreams guys, I’ll see you in the morning.” You offered as Taylor tugged on your arm as Katie peeked her head back into the restaurant and gestured for you and her mom to hurry up. 

“What about my bill?” You asked her. 

“He got it.” Taylor answered as he gestured to Noah. 

“Aw, thank you for dinner!” You thanked him as she had to take your hand and pull you out of the restaurant.

“I really love Paradise.” Sakura said dreamily as she watched you go. 

“Well she is lovely.” Noah admitted as he got his box of leftovers and got out of the booth. 

“She likes you back, she told me so.” Sakura informed her Dad as she took his hand in one of hers and continued to hold your business card like a beloved photograph. 

“Oh yeah?” Noah returned, pleasantly surprised to hear that. 

“And she’s an heiress like me and she promised that she would teach me what she knows about it.” Sakura revealed. 

“Really?” Noah turned to look at his mom to either confirm or deny that. 

“Oh yeah, she knows how to deal with not just foxes but wolves and vultures too. The gods sent us the perfect person to help. And I have a feeling she won’t leave until everything is well taken care of and we will be hearing from her and seeing her very often from now on.” Nana predicted. 

“How?” Noah asked. 

“Just wait and see.” Nana simply grinned. 

[warriorsides]

Chapter 2

Notes: I'm super sorry this illustration has no background or shading... It had already been too long without a chapter and I didn't have time to do a background with school and other things in my life. I also have an allegiance list of all the characters in the Clans and their designs. I may add to the roster and change some things up! If you click on the characters, you'll be able to see their refs. This is also posted on Archive of Our Own! 

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Thomas stood on the fence again, his gaze set on the forest.

The sun had reached its peak in the sky. 

“Thomas!” The brown and white patched cat had called out when he arrived back to his housefolk’s den. “You’re back! Thought you’d never return.”

Thomas looked up to meet his friend’s gaze. “I met some wild cats.” He said, admittedly. 

“What?” The cat jumped down, and closely examined his friend. “Did you get into a fight? You don’t look hurt. What happened?” They interrogated.

“They just warned me to stay off their territory,” Thomas explained, pushing Joan away with his tail. “Then they asked me to join their Clan.”

Joan looked unconvinced. “Why would they do that?”

Thomas shrugged. “Not sure. I guess they needed extra paws.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t trust ‘em.” Joan declared. “Wild cats ain’t friendly.”

Thomas wanted to protest, but he knew better than to argue with Joan. He watched the cat give a small wave before scurrying off into the night. 

“But… I do trust them.” Thomas said to himself. He looked behind him, as if imaging Joan coming along to object. But they didn’t come. “Sorry, Joan.” He said, before turning back to the forest. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to join them.”

Thomas leaped off the fence post, once again journeying into the forest. 

The forest felt so much more alive now then the night before. The sounds of bird calls filled the air and the sun filled the forest with light. A gentle wind rustled the leaves of the trees as light danced around the branches. It was beautifully overwhelming compared to his old backyard. This was freedom.

“I see you’ve made your choice.” 

Thomas spun around, happy to know that he recognised this cat. “Sootflower!” He greeted. Another cat stood beside them, and he stiffened.

The cat nodded. “I’ll be taking you to ThunderClan camp. This is Thicketbranch, one of ThunderClan’s greatest warriors.”

The tom nodded his head to Thomas. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

Sootflower beckoned then with their tail. “Let’s be off. I’m sure the Clan will be excited to see a new apprentice around camp- one that isn’t as loud as Tigerpaw.” They mused.

Thomas chuckled politely, and followed the two warriors as they navigated through the thick forest back to their camp.

The two warriors were fast, which Thomas expected from two fully grown cats. But he found himself tripping over his paws just to keep up, and his paw pads were growing sore. He didn’t bother them with asking for a break though, almost imagining Thicketbranch barking at him for such a kittypet-like request. 

They wove through winding trees, over fallen trees, and got their paws tainted with mud. They had found themselves faced with a gully that was too wide to jump over and that reeked with foul-smelling and murky looking water. The two Clan cats barely hesitated for a moment before dipping their paws into the water and wading through. Thomas dipped a paw in, as if to test the waters, and slowly followed. He was determined to not complain about the terrain, but the water that had seeped into his belly fur was undeniably uncomfortable. 

Sootflower and Thicketbranch had paused just on the other side. Thomas quickly caught up, fearful that they might leave him behind if he was too slow. He took a moment to breathe, finding his chest burning. 

I should probably exercise more… Thomas thought, watching the two warriors step onto a rock that rested on the edge of a small hollow as he desperately tried to catch his breath. 

“We are very close to our camp now,” meowed Sootflower.

Thomas expected to see a sign of life by now- moving leaves, a flash of fur among the bushes below, but he couldn’t see anything except the same undergrowth that covered the rest of the forest floor.

“Use your nose. You must be able to scent it.” Thicketbranch hissed impatiently. 

Thomas felt his pelt prickle with embarrassment, and he closed his eyes to concentrate on sniffing. Thicketbranch was correct. The scents were different from the cats he was used to. The smell was strong, which indicated that there were many cats.

“I can smell cats!” Thomas exclaimed.

Sootflower looked to Thicketbranch with an amused expression, but Thicketbranch’s expression barely changed. 

“If you are accepted into the Clan, you will learn to recognise each cat-scent by name.” Sootflower meowed. “Follow me.” They led the way down the boulders to the bottom of the hollow. They pushed their way through a thorn tunnel and Thomas followed quickly after, with Thicketbranch trailing close behind.

Thomas found that beyond the thorn tunnel, a clearing had opened up. The ground at the center was bare, hard earth. This camp must have been here for many generations. The clearing was lit by sunshine and he could smell the droplets of fresh morning dew. 

Thomas felt awe-struck by the amount of cats in the camp. Some sat alone, but others huddled in groups, sharing food or purring as they groomed eachother.

“Just after sunhigh, when the day is hottest, it is a time for sharing tongues.” Thicketbranch explained.

“Sharing tongues?” Thomas said, confused. Were these cats actually licking eachother’s tongues, or was that a metaphor for something else?

“Clan cats groom eachother while sharing the news of the day.” Sootflower cut in. “We call it sharing tongues. It lets the Clan members bond together.”

Thomas had noticed that now, the cats had redirected their attention to him. He shouldn’t be so surprised- they must have smelled his foreign scent and sensed danger. But their eyes held only curiosity for him rather than hostility. Was it because of his collar? Or maybe had they softened because Sootflower stood next to him. 

Anxiety clawed at him, and he looked around the hollow. It was shielded by large rock walls, which were topped with brambles and bushes. Trees also surrounded the hollow on either side.

“Over there,” Thicketbranch flicked his tail towards a thick bramble bush, “is the nursery, where the kits are cared for.” 

Thomas’ ears flicked towards the bushes. He couldn’t see through the bushes, which were re-enforced with thick roots, but he could hear the small mews of kittens. As he stared at the bush, a cat slipped out from under a small gap in the front. That must be one of the mothers, Thomas thought.

The she-cat had patchy, dark brown fur and long legs. A dark black tom approached her and nodded, entering the nursery in her stead. Thomas wondered if he was a father visiting his kits.

“All queens share the role of caring for the kits.” Sootflower said. “Echohawk and Ripplestorm are our queens here in ThunderClan. All cats serve the Clan. Loyalty to the Clan is the first law in our warrior code. You must learn it quickly if you are going to become a ThunderClan warrior.”

“Sweetstar is coming.” Thicketbranch said, his ears raising as he lifted his chin to sniff the air. 

Thomas raised his chin, too, and felt encouraged that he could recognise the dark brown tabby tom’s scent a moment before she appeared from the rocks above.

The leader jumped down the rocks as if it was second nature, and Thomas felt a sudden wave of anxiety crash over him as he imagined him doing that. He’d surely fall- and it’d probably be fatal, from that height. 

“He actually came.” Sweetstar said, surprised. 

Thomas was unsure if he should be offended by that.

Sootflower chuckled. “Thicketbranch thought he wouldn’t, either. ‘A kittypet- in the Clan?’” They mocked, nudging the tom forward. 

Sweetstar flicked his tail dismissively, turning instead to Thicketbranch. “What do you think of him?” He asked.

Thicketbranch peered at Thomas for a second. “He can keep up.” He said. “He hesitated once or twice, but it’s only natural.” 

Sweetstar nodded. “So it’s agreed?”

The two warriors nodded.

“Then I’ll announce his arrival to the Clan,” Sweetstar said, weaving through the cats. He climbed up on the rock that had the pile of fresh-kill at the base, and his voice thundered throughout the clearing. “Let all those old enough to catch their own prey join here beneath the Highledge for a Clan meeting.” 

Thomas stood still, not knowing what to do. While Thicketbranch and Sootflower stood still, many cats found their way at the base of the Highledge, all looking up at their leader expectantly. 

Through the sea of pelts, Thomas could see Tigerpaw’s dark red pelt. Beside him was a cream tabby she-cat with white paws. Another cat, a golden shaded tom, sat to his left. 

When the cats had stopped moving, Sweetstar spoke. “ThunderClan needs more warriors,” He began. “It has been decided that we will take another outsider to train as an apprentice.” Thomas could hear muttering erupt within the Clan, but Sweetstar lashed his tail and cut them off."He may be an outsider but he is willing, and strong enough."

“The other Clans will think we’re weak if we take in another outsider…” A grey and white she-cat muttered.

Sweetstar ignored the warrior and addressed his Clan. “Thicketbranch and Sootflower agree that this young cat should train with ThunderClan.” 

Thomas looked up to Thicketbranch. He wondered if the tom even liked him, or if he had just said that because he wanted to get on Sweetstar’s good side. He looked away, only to find that most of the Clan’s eyes had fallen on him. His fur prickled with embarrassment, and he wondered if it was too late to turn tail and go back to his housefolk. To ball up in his bed felt like a much better idea than being here right now.

“Where is he from?”

“Is he a spy from ShadowClan?”

“He doesn’t smell like any other Clan.”

The grey and white she-cat from before’s voice rose above them all.

“Look at his collar!” She shrieked. “He’s a kittypet! We need wildborn cats in our Clan- not soft twoleg toys.”

Sootflower leaned over to Thomas. “That’s Rowanheather. She can smell your fear- they all can. You need to prove that your fear won’t hold you back.”

But what if it will? He wondered silently. And how do I prove that I’m not just a kittypet?

“Your collar is just proof that you’re nothing more than a Twoleg pet.” She said. “That bell will cause all sorts of noise and drive out the prey in our territory.”

Some cats murmured in agreement, while others hissed at the she-cat’s statements. Rowanheather began to approach, her ego inflating.

“And it’ll alert other Clans that we’re coming, even if your stench doesn’t.” 

Thomas took a breath, and stood up. The she-cat was only slightly larger than him, leading him to believe that she wasn't much older than him. 

Her stance lowered, and her claws unsheathed. Thomas stared at the claws that shimmered in the sunlight, and he shook his head. He didn’t want to fight her.

Raising a paw, he hooked it behind his collar, squeezing it between his neck and the strap. He unsheathed his claws, and pushed it away from him. His claws tore on the material, and there was a loud snap. With that, the collar had fallen off and sat on the ground. 

He had only ever felt what it was like without a collar once, when he was very young. But he realised how free he felt. The wind blew in his fur, and he could actually feel it on his neck. He breathed in fresh air, having a revelation. 

Being wild wasn’t about where you were born, or who’s kin you were. It was about being free. And he had never felt more free in his life.

“You wont fight?” Rowanheather said at last. “Pathetic. A real warrior will fight to the death if she has to.” She leapt towards Thomas, he claws unsheathed.

Before Thomas could duck or scramble away, a flash of dark grey fur shielded him. 

Thicketbranch had leaped in front of him. He had protected him. 

Thomas’ nose stung with the realisation that a new scent was in the air. One that smelled cold and tangy. It was blood. 

“Are you happy? You got your bloodshed for the day.” Thicketbranch said in a low hiss.

“Thicketbranch, I’m-,”

“Don’t talk to me. Not right now.”

Rowanheather shut her muzzle, and retreated back into the crowd. 

Thicketbranch turned around, and Thomas could see clearly now that he had a large scar across his muzzle. But Thomas could tell that his pain came more from the action of Rowanheather’s attack rather than the wound. 

“Enough.” Sweetstar called from the Highledge. “A real warrior does not seek bloodshed for no benefit. A real warrior finds another solution instead of causing unnecessary fights. Thomas has shown that he is willing to join the Clan by removing his Twoleg collar- but he has also shown that he is more than capable of having the true heart of a warrior.”

Many cats that had had their doubts before were now murmuring in agreement. Thomas found Tigerpaw’s gaze, and he seemed excited. 

“From this day forward, until he has earned his warrior name, he will be known as-”

“Wait!” A voice called.

Thomas had wanted to protest the name change as well, but he guessed someone else had gotten to it first. 

“What is it, Brightpool?” Sweetstar flicked his tail impatiently. “Have you had a vision?”

Thomas’ gaze followed back to the cream tabby by Tigerpaw’s side, who he now knew was named Brightpool/

The she-cat hesitated, “No.” She said at last. “But I have a feeling. A strong one.”

“What is your feeling?” Sweetstar asked. 

“...He doesn’t belong here.”

[ayameakuma]

Hi, guys!

So, this is one of my many ideas for fanfics (seriously, they are breeding like rabbits inside my head) and I need your opinion on whether you would like to read something like this (it helps me decide if the fanfic idea is worth it or not when friends or other people give their thoughts on it).

Fair warning: This idea may trigger some people because it involves breaking 2 ships from 2 different fandoms that people like very much from what I have seen. I DO NOT INTENT TO START SOME SHIPPING WAR HERE. If this annoys you or you just don't like it, be polite about it, ok? I cannot control what my anime/cartoon infested brain cooks up for a new fanfic. (GOD KNOWS I have TRIED to control them)

Either way, here is a brief explanation of the idea and some explanation on why I chose the pairing(s):

First off, this is a crossover between Miraculous Ladybug and Soul Eater. Marinette, who at the beginning of the story is a 13 years old girl, is the only daughter of Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng. Sabine is a Meister - who is very proficient in wielding a variety of weapons - and Tom is her multi-form weapon. The Cheng Clan is - or better said was - very famous in the world for their weapon wielding abilities and for their assassination capabilities, which some even say that were on par with the Star Clan's.

Marinette, however, was kept away from the weapon/meister world by her parents because they wished she would be able to live the normal life they couldn't. But, that did not last long. Around her 10th birthday, Marinette started exhibiting Meister-like skills, and not normal ones either (you can't convince me that the only ones that show the signs of belonging to one of the side of the spectrum are just the weapon, the meisters must also have like early signs of Awakening as a meister too, right?): heightened sense for danger, her body moving on its own when she feels unsafe/sees someone in need of help, and, the strangest one yet, possessing knowledge of how to use a certain object as a weapon in situations that need such expertise (like, knowing how to and where to wound a wolf with just a throw of a sharp rock/a stab of a pocket knife, in order to protect a classmate of hers). These skills brought her more bad than good. For showing such dangerous skills, she was bullied, called weird or even accused of being a "killer in becoming" (kids are stupid and cruel, let's just leave it at that).

Two years pass, during which her signs of awakening as a Meister become more pronounced. Marinette, who never complained about the bullying to her parents, has had enough and tells them what the kids in her school put her through. Hearing this, Tom and Sabine make their decision and, at the age of 12, Marinette Dupain-Cheng becomes one of the newest students at DWMA.

Here, she meets Adrien Agreste, the son of Gabriel Agreste. Adrien is still a model here and is a weapon. His father, Gabriel, was known as one of DWMA most talented students as a Meister and currently is a top fashion designer, his dream of becoming the Meister that made the next Death Scythe now unattainable due to the premature death of his partner and wife, Emily.

Marinette falls for Adrien, who was LITERALLY the first person - besides her parents - that treated Marinette like a human being and not a ticking bomb in the last 2 years. She decides to become the best Meister she can be and become Adrien's pair and possibly his significant other along the way. Her first female friend in Death City, Alya, supports her with all her might and tried helps Marinette get Adrien's attention. The two are also helped by Nino, Adrien's first friend at DWMA, and Alya's Weapon Partner.

One year later, she finally gathers up her courage to ask him to become a meister-weapon pair with her. Things should go smoothly from here on, right? Wrong. Adrien refuses her and, unknowingly, breaks her heart. Depressed, she ends up crying and questioning her worth over the next week, loosing more and more sleep.

A few days after, she ends up being incredibly late for one class that will have the students make pairs for a "pretend fight" as not only to help them with their partnership (for those who already have partners chosen), but also to observe their performance in a more controlled environment before sending them out to collect the Kishin souls.

Along her there is another student who end up just as late as she is, that student being Soul "Eater" Evans. The two, who never really spoke before (besides the morning greetings or just small insignificant chats) are now put to fight as a Meister-Weapon Pair for this only class.

Durring the class, however, something unexpected happened, and, now, by Lord Death's word, the two have to give their partnership a chance by becoming temporary partners for the rest of the school year. Will Marinette and Soul's partnership end up being a success or an utter failure?

ALRIGHT! So, the above is a short summary of like the first 2 chapters, maybe. And as you can see I already changed a LOT of things from the original setting of Soul Eater. (I have nothing planned on how to input the kwami here but... I WILL come up with something, hopefully) Why? Don't ask me. I have zero ideea how this became a thing in my brain and maybe I will have a more clear idea as to why over time. For now, let's leave that as "it just works and that is it".

Now, as you read I have put Marinette and Soul as a (temporary) Meister and Weapon pair, but their relationship before this arrangement is more inspired from my own life. I basically was in the same class for 1 year with this boy, and, besides the group project and greetings, we have never talked at all. One day we just start talking because we were bored and that boy basically became one of my best friends in like 5 minutes. It is this muted chemistry that only clicks for you once you actually interact with that person in a non-official setting or just happens over the course of the debate of one subject that you both like.

Also, yes, I think that Soul and Marinette will be a good romantic (or maybe platonic) couple too. And since, Soul becomes Marinette's weapon, Adrien becomes Maka's.

Now, to explain why these two Meister-Weapon pairs work:

1.Soul and Marinette (Sonette - the name of the ship - given by my best friend who told me I should post this here)

Due to being bullied, Marinette is very shy in general and the only time she becomes more assertive is during battle, even though the confidence/assertiveness dosen't last long. Remember this is a world in which Mari never got to be Ladybug, and because of this, here she is more meek and dosen't know her own value, nor does she have any self-confidence acquired due to responsibilities such as superheroing or being class president. She also didn't have a lot of friends in school before DWMA, a fact that may end up creating situations in which she is very much overwhelmed because someone did a very nice gesture towards her or she may even end up taking blame for thing that were not her fault at all. As such, someone like Soul, who is confident, could balance out Mari very well, besides the fact that LITTLE MARI NEEDS SUPPORT, GODDAMN IT. She needs someone to reamind her she has worth and get her out of her comfort zone in order to give her a push in a better direction. (In other words: Marinette Protection Squad Assemble!)

As for Soul... well, Soul is stubborn. I think that it will do him well to have someone he needs to look after since it will show Soul's gentle side more. Besides this, Soul is still the same Soul we know and love. Personally, I think that these little changes in a character while still maintaining the canon personality can actually make them seem more alive and it makes character development moments more significant in comparison to the original because we see a new side of that character that the canon did not delve into too much.

2. Maka and Adrien

Look, I love Maka and Soul's dynamics and the same can be said about Mari and Adrien's (if only blondie had a back bone *me being salty about the Lila phases*).

But you can't really say that Maka isn't reckless or that Adrien is not a spineless coward most of the time (hate you too, Gabriel, since it is your fault for this).

Why I think they are good for each other?

Well, Maka could learn to be more attentive towards other people and less reckless. Seriously, there is a fine line between courage and recklessness, and Maka seems to need to learn how to discern between the two. Adrien could be good for this since, in this fanfic, he is more or less naive af and needs to be guided by someone other than his father. Maka, in trying to help Adrien, ends up helping herself to some extent and due to Adrien's stained relationship with his father maybe she will even give her own father, Spirit, a chance to mend their own relationship. (It is just a possibility that I could see after pairing them up)

As for Adrien? Well, in this fanfic idea, at least until Maka gets into his mind, Adrien is not better than a doll for his father to play with. Gabriel controls everything than happens in his life. And since here he is not Chat Noir, the only little escape he has is the school, but even that is conditioned by his grades: "If you do not continue to have exemplary results in your school work, then I see no need for you to continue going there." - Gabriel, at some point in the story probably

His father even chose his own partner based on the level of soul compatibility they have together. Basically, Adrien has no voice of his own.

Maka could help him, simply put because she is reckless. Without Soul there, Maka needs to be told what is a good idea and what isn't, even more so when she is not capable of seeing the answer herself. And so, Adrien has to take a stand and say things with his own mouth. He will end up finding his own voice because he has Maka there. (I low key believe if Marinette was his partner, she will have a lots of problems trying to get Adrien to disagree with her, mainly due to her shyness and feelings for Adrien, but that is just me)

Maka and Adrien even have a similar house situation: they both have only one parent remaining that they dislike (no matter how internalized Adrien's dislike is), but they handle it differently which could be a good influence on the other: while Adrien is obedient to a fault to Gabriel because he wants to please his father in hope that Gabriel won't abandon him for not being enough, Maka defies her father due to her dislike for him and for the fact that he exhibits a perverse behaviour while still saying he is in love with Maka's mom (this pissed me off very much about Spirit but at the same time, give him a chance Maka, look at him; he is pitiful)

And this concludes my rant/ depiction of my fanfic idea.

Again, if you don't like it, that is fine. If you do, that is fine too. I just want to ask you: do you think it is worth writing? Would you read something like this if I did wrote and posted it?

Thank you for your time! Bye!😊