#I was searching for it in haste D:

[fareehaandspaniards]

:/ :/ :/ The fact that the way to Upper Cathedral is decorated with the statues of Eldrich creatures that are holding HARPOONS (you know like, weapons specifically designed to hunt marine creatures) :/ Laurence you ASS :/

That was the first thing I thought of xd

[rendy-a]

Could I request a self aware twst au with like the first years :D?

I want to thank all the people who interacted with that post earlier today. It gave me enough motivation to go out and finish this piece.

While trying to think up concepts for this work, it occured to me that all the first years (except Ortho) were in sports clubs. That means there is one event perfect for you to bond with your first year friends.

Ace kicks a pile of canvas laying in a heap at his feet, “This is ridiculous!  What if something happens while we’re gone!”  His mouth twists into an unpleasant grimace.  He looks to his basketball club members for backup, but no one will meet his eye.  So, he turns to where he knows he’ll find support.  “Oi, Sebek!”  The green haired fae is distractedly pounding away at a tent stake nearby but it is easy to see from his expression that his heart isn’t in it.  “What happens if someone tries to kidnap the Player when we aren’t there to protect them?  You know how famous they are!”  Sebek stops hammering and slowly looks up, tears forming in his eyes. 

“SILVER! SILVER!” he shouts to his clubmate, “What if I’m not there to protect the Player!  Forget this event, we must return to the school with ALL HASTE!”  He looks to his fellows for support but again, none of the senior students stop what they are doing.  Ace, however, is fast to abandon his own camping site and join Sebek.  “Right, right?” he eagerly urges Sebek on, “What does this even matter if our Player isn’t here to see it?” 

“Stop it,” the sturdy voice of Jack growls, “It doesn’t pay to get worked up over it.  This is in the story, so we have to do it.  That’s just how it is.”  Sebek stares at the wolf beastman silently, tears falling from his eyes.  “Maybe we can tell them about it later!” Deuce tries to cheer his fellow freshman up, “I’m sure they’d like to hear about it.  They always listened to my card stories before…well before it happened.  I think they’d like to hear about this too!”  At that Sebek seemed mightily cheered and returned to setting up his tent with gusto, muttering about what he’d tell the Player about later.  Ace scoffs, sensing his defeat and returns bitterly to his own site. 

Epel wanders over and observes Ace silently.  “You finished?” Ace asks in surprise.  “Yeah, Leona is a great leader and took charge of getting us set up right away!” Epel informs him, “I had time to put up my tent and help Ruggie set up one for Leona too!”  Then he looks down and kicks Ace’s sad abandoned tent as well, “I just wish the Player was here to see it.  I bet they’d have been really impressed with how fast I finished.”  Ace frowns and complains, “But they aren’t here.  They are back at school with the Arts Clubs.”  This causes Epel to scowl deeply, “Dagnabit!  I didn’t need a reminder of that!  I can just picture those frou-frou artsy types trying to suck up to the Player.  Trying to get them to talk different, eat different, just…” He doesn’t finish the thought but the way he grinds his teeth shows how he feels about the idea.

The sound of pounding tent stakes and shifting canvas is diminished when the booming voice of Coach Vargas booms out, “Listen up, young campers!  Now, I know you don’t need any additional motivation to showcase your strength and fortitude here after I’ve done an AMAZING job setting up this EXCITING AND ENTERTAINING EVENT!”  Here he pauses and casts a quick look over his shoulder before straightening up again.  “But if you do!”  Then he smiles a beaming smile and sets his hands on his hips.  That’s when you pop out from behind him, “Hey guys!  Guess who’s here to do their memory keeper duties!” 

Ace jumps over his canvas pile in a rush to get to your side and stumbles over it.  “Woah, calm down,” you admonish him cheerily, “I’ll be here all weekend.”  Epel asks in an innocent sounding voice, “You will?  You really will?”  You pat the two boys on the shoulder and search out your other first year friends in the crowd.  Sebek is sobbing quietly in front of his tent and Deuce is waving excitedly from the distant track club area.  Jack gives you a small nod before turning back to his area as though he is unaffected by your appearance, but the cloud of dust kicked up by his wagging tail says otherwise. 

You turn toward Vargas and look expectantly.  He looks blankly back at you until you awkwardly say, “Go on.”  He looks at you a moment before clearing his throat, “Ah yes, yes.  Harumph!  Anyway, tents are up!  Get over here and listen up for your next task!”  Then he looks at you as though seeking your approval to hand out the task.  You shrug and then nod as though to say, ‘Sure, go for it.’  Vargas gives you a toothy smile and then proceeds to hand out a familiar sounding explanation about the tasks to be assigned to the clubs.  You wave lightly before heading back to the cabin to get your own things sorted out.  The eagerness of the students fades as fast as your departure.

“So…,” Deuce begins carefully, “We are going to try now?  Right?”  He looks at Ace for confirmation.  Jack snorts behind him, “I was always going to try.”  Then he makes a fist and puts on an eager smile, “I’m going to knock this challenge out so fast that the Player can’t help but notice me!”  Deuce turns away from Ace to join Jack instead.  The two Track Club members fire each other up over their plans to dominate the camp tasks and stand out to the Player.  Deuce quickly becomes so distracted by this that he forgets Ace entirely.  This is just the chance Ace has been waiting for to quietly slip away.

“So, Prefect,” Ace begins as he appears at your side.  You yelp and drop your backpack, catching it before it hits the ground and damages your precious ghost camera.  “Ace!” you shout, “What are you doing here?  This isn’t in the event!”  He looks at you quietly and you quickly backtrack, “I…I mean, shouldn’t you be with the Basketball Club doing…something?”  Ace smiles, happy to have avoided an awkward situation.  “Nah, I’m not going to mess around in the woods.  It’s a team effort, so as long as those other guys do the grunt work, I’ll be fine.”  You roll your eyes at his attitude.  “Plus, why would I want to be anywhere but with my best buddy, eh Prefect?” 

You consider this carefully before slyly narrowing your eyes and gesturing to your unbuilt tent.  “Sure, thing, Pal.  Why don’t you hang out and help me build my tent.”  Ace grimaces, not wanting to do the work but mostly afraid you’ll pick up on his lack of tent-building expertise.  The odd standoff is concluded when you hear Coach Vargus bellow, “Nonsense!  That won’t do for either of you!  I can hardly deprive the Prefect of the chance to enjoy this stimulating muscle-building activity and as for you Ace, well, you are just slacking off.”  Ace starts to stammer as you just stand there cringing.  Coach Vargus calmly approaches Ace and lifts him up by his collar.  It reminds you of how you lift a misbehaving Grim by the scruff of his neck.  You wave awkwardly at the departing Ace as he looks imploringly at you from the Coach’s grasp.  ‘Oh well, you reap what you sow,’ you think.

A tiring amount of time later, you brush your hands off on your thighs and declare, “There, done!”  Then you slowly head over to grab your pack holding the Ghost Camera, among other supplies.  The sun is barely at its peak, but you are already sweating with exertion from putting up the tent.  You wonder how your more athletic friends among the first-year students are handling it.  You know they are more used to the effort, but you hope they are taking necessary precautions.  Perhaps you’d just remind them and see if they need to borrow some sunscreen.

You know realize that sunscreen was the least of your safety concerns.  You watch in disbelief as Sebek continues to scale a sheer cliff in search of a lantern blossom flower.  The reaction of the nearby students was mixed.  Silver seemed remarkably unconcerned as he spoke to Riddle nearby.  Meanwhile, you and several NPC characters were more nervous.  “He is going to fall, isn’t he?” you ask the nearby Scarabia A.  He looks at you for a long moment and then shrugs his shoulders.  You are not reassured at all. 

You turn instead to Ignihyde C and gesture, “This game doesn’t have a mature rating, so he can’t die.  Right? Right?”  The surprised student looks at you with his mouth falling open before he stammers, “R.right.”  Then he looks up at the precarious position of the green haired fae and mumbles, “But maybe you should cheer him on anyway.”  You look more intently at the NPC and demand, “Do you think that would help?”  He answers you in a fluster, “W..well, if my oshi…I mean friend…if my friend cheered me on, I think it would really help me do my best!” 

Right.  That is just the sort of thing friends do.  “HEY SEBEK!” you shout.  The fae somehow hears you shout and looks arrogantly over his shoulder at the spectators but when his eye catches your form, he shakes, and you fear he will tumble from the cliff.  “HOLD ON SEBEK, YOU CAN DO IT!  I BELIEVE IN YOU!”  From even the great distance between you, the image of determination that crosses his expression can be seen.  He sets off with a renewed vigor, making daring transitions and finding ways to make speedy progress.  With several movements that make you gasp and hold your breath; he reaches the lantern blossom and plucks it from the ground. 

Much faster than the ascent, Sebek’s return to the ground was accomplished quite shortly.  He was still a considerable distance up when he leaps from the cliff edge to race to your side and show off his prize.  He eagerly holds out the glowing lantern blossom for you to view.  “Its so pretty,” you comment politely, “I wish I had one.”  He gasps and grabs hold of your hand, forcing the poor battered flower into it.  “THEN YOU MUST HAVE THIS ONE!”  You give him a shocked look, “No really, that is unnecessary.  I’ll get one some other day.”  He smiles at you smugly, “No need Prefect.  Any time you need a lantern blossom, I will fetch one for you.”  You guiltily hold out the flower to one student after another, but no member of the Horseback Riding Club will take it from you.  “Prefect,” Riddle finally says in a commanding voice, “Its rude to return a gift.  We are more than capable of retrieving another lantern blossom.”  Sebek and Silver nod in agreement, backing up the Dorm Leader.  You think it’s time to go before you cause this club any more trouble.  You make your excuses and dash off to the lake.

As you part a pair of branches and emerge from the forest at the lake’s edge, you catch sight of some members of the Spelldrive Club nearby.  Ruggie seems to be fishing up a storm while your first-year friend Epel watches from nearby with his own pole.  “See,” Ruggie tells his underclassman, “That’s how its done.  Now in return for that free lesson, how about you show me what you learned by catching enough fish for the rest of the club! Shishishi!”  You roll your eyes at the obvious attempt to foist the work off onto Epel but are surprised with your friend shouts “YES SIR!” with enthusiasm.  You catch Ruggie’s eye and give him a quiet tsk tsk which only earns you a mischievous wink before the hyena beastman set’s off toward camp.

You slowly saunter over to Epel, who is fully engaged in his fishing.  “So, got a plan?” you asked over his shoulder.  “Eh!?” he gasps and drops his pole, “Player!  I..I mean Prefect!  It’s you! Ya’ had me surprised outta my skin there!”  You give him an apologetic smile.  Epel stoops down to retrieve his pole and shyly replies, “My plan is just to catch the fish.  I’m not going to give up until I’ve caught at least a dozen!”  Then he holds up his arm and bends it at the elbow, giving you a little flex to show off his determination.  You hold in a laugh, “Well, if you are that fired up, why stop at only one dozen?” 

Epel’s eyes go wide for a moment and then he gets a maniacal grin.  “Yeah! You’re right!  I’m going to catch you at least two dozen fish!  Or maybe three or four!”  You know Epel is not the type to break his word, so you quickly interrupt to calm down his ambitions, “One dozen is enough!  I was just joking.”  You wave your hands toward the ground as though to say, let’s lower our expectations.  Epel frowns and mutters under his breath, “That isn’t going to impress anyone.” Then he looks at you determined, “Just wait and see!  I’ll catch plenty of fish so don’t go eat’n with any other club!  When tha fish are in tha bag, I’ll make ya Gram’s special fish stew!” 

As Epel gets to work, casting his line and reeling in the lure, you sit beside him on a rock.  When the time seems right, you snap a picture of him eagerly lifting a small fish from the lake on his line.  “There you go!  One down!” you say as you transfer the ghost camera to your elbow and give him a small clap of encouragement.  He preens a short second before frowning down at the small fish.  “Tha’ next ‘un will be twice as big!” he shouts in determination before casting his line again. 

True to his prediction, soon Epel gets a tremendous tug on his pole.  You both shout and leap to your feet at the strength of the fish that appears to be on the line.  “WOAH!” Epel shouts.  You lean over the edge of the lake, trying to see the monster fish Epel has snagged.  Epel too seems interested in his opponent and plans one foot firmly while leaning forward to stare intently where his line entered the lake.  With a sudden flash, a scaled hand emerges from the lake to grab the tip of Epel’s rod and tugs Epel, pole and all, into the lake.  You quickly slide back as far more of Floyd emerges from the lake.  He gives you a toothy smile before his trademark laugh emerges and he returns to the lake.  Epel does not immediately surface, and you are concerned for a moment before you spot him further down the shore.  Though he has concealed himself behind a log, you can tell his ears are flushed with embarrassment.  You kindly decide to give him his space.

Halfway to camp, your stomach begins to growl.  You thought sadly about Gran’s special fish stew, now beyond your reach.  You hoped that you’d manage to sweet talk some fish off someone.  They were your friends, so someone is bound to share, right? 

The size of Deuce’s eyes when you asked him sweetly if he’d share his food with you rivaled that of the empty plate you held out to him.  “Please?” you finish your plea for lunch.  Deuce flushes and quickly removes his pack from his shoulder, pulling out a fairly large fish.  “No problem, Prefect, I’ve got enough for two here!”  You make a little gesture to celebrate your victory and compliment him, “Yeah!  Great job catching such a big fish.  It looks so huge, I bet its even enough for three people!”  Immediately Deuce denies this, “NO!  NO, IT’S NOT!”  When you pull back in surprise, Deuce continues in a softer voice, “I…I mean this one is just perfect for two.  It…its just meant for us.  To share.  Together.” 

You hold up your hands and agree, “Sure, sure.  Just you and me.  I get you.”  Deuce seems so very pleased by your response that you decide to just let his strange response slide.  Plus, you need him to cook that fish.  “So…what are you making?  You know, just for us to share?” you ask as you saddle up to his side?  Deuce looks back and forth between you and the fish, “I sure know how to cook this.  Yup, I really do.”  Your mouth falls into a little O and then you glare at him suspiciously, “Deuce, do you know how to cook fish?”  He doesn’t meet your eye but assures you that Trey taught him some recipes.  You still have your suspicious but figure if it was a Trey recipe, it would be alright.

“So, what do we do?” you ask Deuce.  He looks at you with a dreamy expression, “We?  You’re going to cook with me?”  You shrug your shoulders, “I mean yeah, that’s how Trey’s recipes are, right?”  Then you lean in close and whisper, “Like…Like in the game when we made that chestnut tart together.  Right?”  Deuce quickly agrees, “Right!  Together!  You and me!  Just…you and me… Ahem!”  He finishes with a cough and then, to your relief, sends you to the forest to collect some herbs. 

You had a handful of samples and a general area to search for more.  Apparently, Jack had scented some out while setting up camp and taken cuttings so his clubmates could retrieve more later.  You smiled at the foresight of the first-year student.  You weren’t sure exactly what Deuce needed, so you gathered a few handfuls of each type.  You walk back to the camp and set your bounty on the table next to the fish Deuce has prepared.  It looks like he’s used the time you were away to fillet the fish and make a simple dough.  Seeing the dough gives you confidence that this really is a Trey recipe. 

“So, what now?” you ask him.  “Chop up the herbs and mix them into a paste with water,” Deuce directs.  “Sure,” you say while gesturing to the pile, “but which ones?”  Deuce pauses and looks at the large pile of greens you have sitting there.  “Oh…um…All of them!”  Now your doubts are back.  “Are you sure about that?” you ask him carefully.  “Yeah!” Deuce replies confidently, “Just like Trey says, the more the merrier!”  You carefully take two sprigs of herbs and chop them up and then, while Deuce is preoccupied with the dough, give them a taste.  Honestly, the combination of the two isn’t bad.  ‘Well,’ you think, ‘what to I know about cooking in a magical world anyway?’  So, you chop the entire pile of greens and mix it all into a thick paste.  Deuce combines your herb paste with the fish and puts it into a small pie shell he has formed with the dough.  Then, you pack the ‘pie’ into the hot rocks of the fire to roast. 

While the pie bakes, you sit side by side on a log and chat about normal things.  Or maybe it was more like you chatted and Deuce listened.  You didn’t mind, he was good company even if he seemed preoccupied.  You were telling him about Grim’s latest antics when you felt something on your hand.  You give a small yelp and tug your hand into your lap.  “Ah!” you examine your hand as you brush it off, “Was that a bug?”  Deuce, who you suddenly realize had gotten far closer to you than you’d noticed, nervously remarked, “Oh yeah, that…was probably it.  Ha ha.”  Finally, you ask, “Are you cold?  I bet we could find you a seat closer to the fire if you are.  You can be as cozy as our pie.”  Deuce seems embarrassed for a moment before suddenly becoming alarmed, “THE PIE!”  He jumps up and fishes the pie from the fire. 

He brings it to you nervously, “I think it is fine…”  The pie has a small amount of char around the edge that was directly in the fire.  If it hadn’t been made by your good friend, you’d probably have refused it but, since it was made by Deuce, you don’t have the heart to refuse.  “Oh yeah, looks fine.  I guess…lets try it?” you say trying to convince both yourself and Deuce of the pie’s editability.  Deuce lets out a happy sigh and breaks the pie in half, handing you the slice with fewer burnt edges.  He makes no move to eat the pie himself but seems to hold his breath, waiting for you to try it.  “Well, here it goes?” you say in a worried tone.  You take a bite; it’s terrible.  You force your mouth into a wide smile, “mmm…” you mutter for him in pity.  You decide to use the same method for the pie as you used the last time you were forced to eat Lilia’s cooking.  You cram the pie down in three huge bites, trying to finish it off while tasting it as little as possible. 

For a moment, Deuce seems greatly pleased with the gusto in which you eat before the look of alarm sets on his face and he tilts his head to the side.  Or maybe he is tilting his whole body?  Oh, no.  It’s you that is falling.  Then the blackness takes you as Deuce’s frightened shouts fade out, “HELP, I think…I’ve poisoned…the player…”

You wake up groggy.  If that was all, you’d have considered yourself lucky, but it also appears you’ve been tied to a tree.  You are confused for a moment until you recall the storyline of the Camp Vargus event.  Right, Coach is probably out tormenting students right now while anyone captured is tied up.  Great, just great.  You look up when you hear a long howl echoing through the forest.  ‘Is that Jack?’ you think to yourself.  If Jack is already in his wolf form, then this camp is nearly over.  You sigh and lean back into the tree, waiting for someone to come along and release you.

It isn’t longer than an hour before a very tired but eager Jack arrives to untie you.  “Guess you are the hero of the day, huh?” you jibe at him.  He flushes as he rubs the back of his head, “Oh, you heard about that.”  He tries to pretend indifference but moments later he is asking for more details, “So what did you hear?”  Well, this is a challenge to answer since you hadn’t actually heard anything about it.  You just remembered it from when it was a game plot.  “Well…didn’t Floyd change into his mer form?  That was probably cool to see.” 

A look of incredulousness passes over his face, “Yeah well, other guys probably looked cool too.”  You nod knowingly, “Yeah, I heard you got to Sebek use his training to lure the monster into the bog.  Who knew there would be a chance for him to show off his skills out here.”  Jack huffs, “Yeah but he wasn’t the only one using his skills out there.”  Now you smile, feeling a bit mischievous yourself, “Oh, for sure.  I mean what would we have done without our MVP from Savanahclaw.”  Jack lets out a relieved sigh and smiles.  “Yes, Ruggie sure did pull though.  I don’t normally approve of his sneaky habits, but you have to admit he really came through today.” 

Jack’s eyes widen and he stands there in a silent shock.  “Well, let’s get going.  Are you hungry?  I could sure go for something right about now.”  Then you dust off your knees and start heading toward camp.  After a moment, you decide you’ve tortured him enough and pause, waiving your hand to signal him to join you.  When he reaches your side, you give his uniform sleeve a tug.  He bends down and you use this opportunity to give him a pat on the head and then rub his soft ears.  “You did good, Jack,” you praise him softly.  Then you thread your arm through his own and tug him along to camp.  “Now, let’s go get some grub.  Just don’t take anything Deuce gives you, ok?”  Jack smiles and follows you along, tail wagging all the way.

[adumbratrapedme]

BABY BUMP | teen pregnancy series pt.2

Synopsis. after revealing your pregnancy to your boyfriend (or after your girlfriend did) a few weeks passed and you finally realize the baby bump is here o.o

characters(all separated): Kiyoko, Yachi, Sugawara wc.idk god | genre. pure fluff !|cw/tags. fluff, teen pregnancy, baby bumps. teen pregnancy series masterlist here!

important ! i'll post something else later too, stay tuned <3

Yachi

It was a rare free afternoon, and you and Yachi had decided to visit the park near her house. It wasn’t anything fancy—just a quiet place with a small pond and a walking trail. You often came here to sit on the grass, watch the ducks, and tease Yachi until she turned red.

Today, the winter chill was just starting to lift, and Yachi had opted for a light cardigan over her dress. You noticed her fidgeting with the buttons more than usual, but didn’t think much of it.

“Y/N, do you think… ducks get jealous of swans?” she asked out of the blue, her voice soft.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jealous? Of what? Swans just float around acting all dramatic.”

She giggled, her usual shy laugh that made your heart swell. “Maybe they’re jealous of the attention swans get. Like… swans are just bigger ducks with an attitude.”

“Swans are basically the Tsukishima of birds,” you joked.

That earned you a louder laugh, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. As you leaned back on the grass, Yachi moved to sit cross-legged beside you. She adjusted her dress, tugging it down as she leaned forward slightly. That’s when you saw it.

The fabric of her dress stretched just enough to reveal a small, rounded curve at her stomach.

You blinked, your mind racing. Had it always been there? Were you imagining things?

“Yachi…” you said cautiously, sitting up.

She paused mid-laugh, her expression shifting. “Yeah?”

Your eyes flicked to her stomach, and you saw the realization dawn on her face. She immediately crossed her arms over her middle, her face turning bright red.

“D-Don’t look!” she squeaked, her voice high-pitched.

“is that—”

“It’s nothing!” she blurted, scrambling to her feet. But in her haste, she stumbled, and you instinctively reached out to steady her.

“Hey, hey, calm down!” you said, gently holding her by the arms.

Her eyes welled up with tears, and she let out a shaky breath. “I-I was hoping you wouldn’t notice yet…”

Your heart ached at how vulnerable she sounded. “you don’t have to hide this from me,” you said softly.

She sniffled, looking down at the grass. “I didn’t want you to freak out. I-I don’t even know what I’m doing, and—”

“Neither do I,” you interrupted, giving her a small, reassuring smile. “But we can always figure it out.”

Her tearful eyes met yours, and she searched your face for any sign of hesitation. When she found none, she let out a shaky laugh. “I-I was so scared you’d be mad…”

“Mad? Yachi, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I could never be mad at you, besidesm this is something common, it wouldnt be normal for me to be mad.” you chuckled

She bit her lip, her hands resting protectively over her belly. “It’s just… more real you know? I can feel it, and now you can see it too, and…”

You stepped closer, placing a hand gently over hers. “It’s real, yeah. But that doesn’t mean it’s bad. It just means we’ve got a lot to figure out. And we will.”

Her lip trembled, but then she smiled—a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Thank you, Y/N. For… for being you.”

You chuckled, pulling her into a hug. “And thank you for being you, Yachi. Even if you think ducks get jealous of swans.”

She laughed through her tears, burying her face in your shoulder. And as you held her, the future felt a little less scary.

Kiyoko

It was a rare free afternoon, and Y/N had invited Kiyoko over to study. Or at least, that had been the plan.

Instead, both of you were sitting cross-legged on the floor of ur room, surrounded by open textbooks, a half-eaten bag of chips, and a volleyball that you had been mindlessly tossing in the air. Kiyoko was leaning back against the bed, flipping through her notes with her usual focus, while you... failed miserably to concentrate.

“You’re supposed to be studying,” Kiyoko said without looking up, her voice as calm as ever.

“I am,” you protested, though your attention was clearly on her.

She gave you a sidelong glance, her eyebrow raised. “You’ve been staring at me for the past ten minutes.”

“No, I haven’t,”you said quickly, your face heating.You adjusted the volleyball in your hands, trying to play it cool.

Kiyoko sighed and closed her notebook. “What is it?”

you hesitated a little bit, not sure if you should say anything. “Uh… I just… Your shirt looks tighter.”

Kiyoko blinked, her head tilting slightly. “What?”

“Not in a bad way!” you correctted quickly, waving his hands. “I just mean… like, your stomach. It looks, uh…” you gestured vaguely, words failing you.

For a moment, Kiyoko just stared at you, her calm demeanor unreadable. Then, as if realizing something, she looked down at herself. She placed her hand over her midsection, pressing lightly as if to confirm what he’d said.

Her fingers lingered there for a moment before she spoke. “I guess it’s starting to show,” she said softly, her voice quieter than usual.

You swallowed hard,heart thudding in your chest. “Does that… freak you out?”

Kiyoko shook her head, her expression thoughtful. “Not really. I’ve been expecting it. But seeing it is… different.”

You scooted closer, sitting beside her. “It’s kind of… cool, though. Isn’t it?”

She glanced at him, her lips curving into the faintest smile. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice warm. “I mean, it’s proof that it’s happening.”

Kiyoko’s gaze softened, and for a moment, she let her guard down completely. “It’s scary sometimes,” she admitted. “But… I think it’s okay.”

You reached out hesitantly, your hand hovering over hers. “Can I…?”

Kiyoko nodded, and you placed the hand gently over hers, feeling the faintest curve beneath her sweater. Your heart swelled, a mix of awe and nervousness washing over him.

“I’ll be here,” you said, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside him. “No matter what."

Kiyoko closed her eyes, leaning her head lightly against your shoulder. “You’re still an idiot sometimes, you know.”

“Yeah,” you said with a grin, “but I’m your idiot.”

She let out a soft laugh, the kind that she rarely let anyone hear. And in that moment, surrounded by textbooks and uncertainty, she had no clue what you were doing—but at least, she wouldn't be alone.

Sugawara

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting soft golden light across the room as Sugawara sat beside you. The day had started like any other, but now there was something different.

You had just finished your morning routine, slipping on your school uniform, but as you stood in front of the mirror, something caught your attention. Your hand instinctively went to your stomach, where you could faintly notice a small bump. It wasn't much, barely noticeable to anyone else, but to you, it felt like the world was shifting beneath you.

Sugawara, who had been tying his shoes at the foot of the bed, noticed you standing still, staring at your reflection in silence. He rose to his feet, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced with concern. "Y/N?" he asked softly.

You turned to him, forcing a smile, but it didn't reach your eyes. "Koushi... I think it's starting to show."

He blinked, his eyes widening for a moment as he processed what you had said. Without hesitation, he stepped toward you, closing the distance between you with a gentle, almost cautious step. His fingers brushed against the fabric of your shirt, resting just above your stomach. He stared at the faint curve, his expression softening with a mixture of awe and uncertainty.

"You’re right," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "It’s... growing."

You looked down, your heart racing. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this. What if I can't do this? What if I can’t handle being pregnant and finishing school at the same time?”

Sugawara gently cupped your face, lifting your gaze to meet his. His expression was steady, unwavering, as if trying to anchor you in the storm of thoughts swirling in your head. "We’re going to get through this, Y/N. Together," he said firmly. “Look at me.”

You met his eyes, and in them, you saw the same determination that had always been there—the same boy who, despite everything, always found a way to take on the impossible.

He took your hand, placing it against the small bump. "This... this little one is ours. And we’re going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure it out, one step at a time. Whether it's school, volleyball, or... being parents, we’ll do it together."

A tear slipped down your cheek as you felt the weight of his words. "I’m scared," you whispered.

Sugawara reached up, brushing away your tear with his thumb. "Me too. But we’ll figure it out. Honey, and hey" he added, offering a small, reassuring smile. "We’re not the only ones who’ve been through this. We’ve got people we can lean on."

You nodded, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence. The future still seemed uncertain, but with him by your side, it felt like maybe—just maybe—you could handle it.

"Thank you," you whispered, giving him a watery smile.

Sugawara leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Anytime, darling "

As the two of you stood there, the weight of the moment sinking in, you knew life was going to be different from now on. But with Sugawara, you also knew it would be full of love, support, and the promise that no matter what came next, you wouldn’t face it alone.

TAGLIST:

@chilichopsticks @dreadnoughtus101 @starykari @staygoldsquatchling02

if you want to be part of the taglist you can always DM me or coment! <3 tysm for ur support guysehehrbe

[umi-adxhira]

ᝰ.ᐟ SERENITY | 012

FANDOM: TWTPTFLOB

WARNINGS: Dion

AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's now later heehee

◄ PREVIOUS CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ►

You’re in your room, brushing your hair as the morning light filters through the window. The second day of Yggdrasil has arrived, and you prepare yourself to step out once more into the world of nobles and hidden dangers. Your movements are slow, methodical - anything to delay the inevitability of leaving the comfort of your room. I never thought brushing my hair would be so calming. I guess I never really got to appreciate it since I always needed to get ready fast for school since I wake up late almost every morning.

Your new maid is out fetching your breakfast. You don’t know her name, and you don’t plan to. There’s no point in learning the name of someone who might not last. Elaine had died almost immediately, and while you had felt a moment of disquiet at her passing, it had been brief. No bond had been forged, no attachment made. It had been easier to let go that way.

You set your brush down, exhaling softly. It’s better this way. A knock on the door disrupts your thoughts. You blink, turning toward it. "Come in." The door opens, and there stands Dion. He lingers at the threshold, his eyes unreadable, his presence heavy despite his silence. Something about the way he stands there, unmoving, makes the air in the room feel thick. You shift slightly in your seat. "You can come in, you know."

Dion steps forward, his movements sharp yet strangely hesitant. Then, with no warning, he slams the door shut behind him. The abruptness of it startles you, your heartbeat quickening for just a moment. "What’s wrong?" you ask, your voice softer than he expected.

He doesn’t answer. He walks across the room until he stands right behind you, his appearance visible in the mirror in front of you. He reaches forward, taking a small section of your hair between his fingers. His touch is deliberate, his thumb grazing over the strands in a slow, thoughtful motion. You freeze, your hands stilling in your lap, still holding your hairbrush.

He’s never done this before. Not like this. "Dion?"

Still, he says nothing. A few moments pass before he finally speaks, his voice quieter than usual. "I’ve been thinking a lot."

The weight of his words settles over you. Your mind flickers back to last week once more. I never even thanked him, did I?

An odd guilt twists in your chest. Dion had done something no one else had, and yet you had let it pass without a word of gratitude. That realization urges you forward before you can think better of it. You stand, stepping toward him. He watches you, his gaze unwavering. Why does he always look at me like that? As if he’s searching for something only he can see.

You don’t allow yourself to hesitate. You reach up, pressing a quick peck against his cheek. The briefest touch - a whisper of warmth against his skin. "Thank you."

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. He only stares at you, the usual blankness of his expression made, “You already thanked me,”

A heartbeat passes. Then another. I DID??? THEN WHY HAVE I BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT FOR SO LONG??? DID I ACTUALLY FORGET I THANKED HIM? AND NOW I KISSED HIM. ON THE CHEEK. WHAT DO I DO?!?

Without a word, he turns away from you and makes his way to your bed, sitting down heavily. His posture is loose, his hands resting between his knees as if deep in thought.

The door opens again. Your maid returns, carrying a tray of food. The moment she sees Dion, her hands tremble slightly, though she keeps her head down. She places the tray on the table before glancing hesitantly at him. "D-do you need anything, sir?"

Dion barely acknowledges her. "Leave."

She does, nearly tripping over herself in her haste. The door clicks shut behind her, leaving the two of you alone once more.

You make your way over to the table, lifting a sandwich from the plate. Without much thought, you take a bite, barely noticing the crumbs that fall onto your lips. The silence between you and Dion is thick but not uncomfortable.

He watches you as you eat, his gaze unwavering. You feel it, the weight of it pressing against you, but you don’t shy away. He’s always watching. But why does it feel different now?

You tear off a small piece of your sandwich and hold it out to him. "Want a bite?" He exhales through his nose, the closest thing to a scoff, and declines with a small shake of his head.

A faint smile tugs at your lips. You don’t push further, simply returning to your meal. The crumbs stick to your fingers, dotting your lips. Before you can wipe them away, Dion reaches forward. His thumb brushes against the corner of your mouth, slow and deliberate, swiping away the stray crumbs, similar to how he treated your hair a few minutes ago.

Your breath catches. His touch lingers just a moment longer than necessary before his hand falls away. Then, without warning, he shifts. He kneels on the floor before you, his head lowering until it rests gently against your lap.

Your body stills. "Dion-"

"Let me stay like this."

His voice is quiet, almost tired. It’s rare to hear him sound anything but composed.

Your free hand hesitates before lifting, fingers threading into his dark hair. It’s softer than you expect, silkier. You stroke lightly, feeling the way his muscles relax ever so slightly under your touch.

A part of you wonders why he’s doing this. Is this comfort? Is this something else entirely?

You exhale, allowing yourself to simply exist in the moment. The warmth of him against you, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath. The intimacy of it all is subtle, unspoken, yet undeniable.

Minutes stretch into an eternity. His breathing evens out, slow and steady, while your fingers move in soft patterns through his hair. There's something grounding about it, something that makes your heart ache in a way you don’t fully understand.

You lower your gaze to him, watching the way his lashes fan against his pale skin, the way his hand has slowly clenched into the fabric of your dress as if anchoring himself. Is he afraid I’ll disappear? How cute.

A strange sort of tenderness wells up in your chest. Carefully, you let your fingers trace along the back of his neck, feeling the tension still coiled beneath his skin. Dion never asks for things. He takes. But this… this is different.

Your voice is quiet when you finally speak. "You can stay as long as you need."

He doesn’t respond, but the way his grip tightens just slightly tells you everything you need to know. The morning light shifts, casting long shadows across the room. And still, neither of you move.

[optimusprimeg1]

DBD thought on a cool (imo) concept/wishlist

I don’t care if I am hated on for this or anything, but I would be interested in seeing a TF x DBD be a thing, TFOne maybe. Sentinel as killer? Hell yeah! D-16, Orion Pax, B-127 and Elita-1 as survivors? Hell yeah! Maybe add Airachnid as a legendary skin for Sentinel?

Sentinel Prime

- The false Prime, he has been forced to arrive at the fog realm as he had been searching for the cogless bots on the surface. Or he has unknowingly made a deal with the Quintessions and he was sent there? Or something else. Either way he is sent there!

- He actively is on the hunt for survivors because he is either forced to kill or willingly.

<- Perks ->

Deception ~ He fooled you, he fooled everyone. You have to seek the truth…but you find that he is a false idol.

You are granted Bloodlust for 20 seconds.

“Sentinel…is NO Prime.”

Active Pursuit ~ You are not letting anyone find out about your business. You are willing to pursue and engage your enemies no matter the cost! You can see survivor’s auras within a 15 meter range for 6 seconds at a time.

“There were others in the cave with you, who are they?”

No Mercy ~ Your ego lead you to believe you are superior. No one should stand in your way!

You are granted Haste effect after being stunned for 5 seconds.

“Feeling confident, are we?”

<- Survivors ->

Orion Pax ~ You waste no time in helping others escape. You are a leader and have a great responsibility.

Skins -> Cogged, Optimus Prime

D-16 ~ You want to do things your own way, are you willing to sacrifice yourself? Or are you willing to leave others behind for your own benefit?

Skins -> Cogged, Megatron

B-127 ~ You are the uplifting one in the group. You do not have a filter on when to stop talking about your favorite subject!

Skins -> Cogged, Battle Mode

Elita-1 ~ You do not let others push you around, but you are a team motivator!

Skins -> Cogged

<~~~ — ~~~>

Put your pitchforks down, it is only a dream concept! Though take this with no thought, the perks and such were just a quick thought so i can get this out there.

[fic--writer]

Lollipop

Rolan is too addicted on his magic lollipops. Tav decides to take a risk and exploit this.

Warnings: NSFW! Addicted, Dominance and Submission, Smut.

Additional: a must read if you like tormenting the Archmage as much as I do. Generally the D/S genre isn't my thing, but I had a f*cking dream about this idea. I woke up laughing and couldn't help but write this. Enjoy.

Part 1/3 Part 2/3 Part 3/3 soon

Rolan took the opaque jar. When he didn't hear the familiar rustle of sweets inside, he didn't immediately believe what was happening. He shook the jar properly, then harder, but only a deafening silence echoed back, increasing his alarm.

In his haste he tore off the lid with his claws and tossed it aside. Yes, he was right - the jar was empty. Although he definitely remembered that there was still one more lollipop left there. His favourite, the magic lolly. The one he always enjoyed when work got hard.

Everyone in the tower knew very well that taking the Archmage's sweets, especially without permission, was not only dangerous to one's health, but also to one's life. Everyone in the tower remembered what had happened to the unfortunate elf who had made that mistake.

Everyone knew about it. And yet someone had the nerve to steal his lolly. The last one! Well, who would dare to do such audacity?! Only one creature in the whole damn tower could have the audacity to do such a thing. Only one:

“Taaaaaav!!!”

Rolan screamed at the top of his lungs. His howl shook every wall in the building. He knew that there was no need for an investigation or a detective here. He knew that for sure. Only she was the one who kept looking at his satisfied face when he hid a lolly bar behind his cheek. Besides, Tav was a real rogue - mischievous and unceremonious. She had no sense of propriety or manners. Why would a thief need them? And why had he invited her to work with him...

The Archmage's blood boiled and he sprinted. He ran like a young trotter, sweeping everything in his path with his tail. He looked into every room in search of Tav, and woe betide anyone who got in his way. Rolan pushed, shoved and knocked down every unfortunate creature.

He found her in a small pantry. Tav was standing with his back to him, rearrange, or rather pretending to rearrange, at a supply of parchment on one of the shelves.

"Tav! Look at me" - the Archmage shouted, unable to contain his anger.

She turned slowly, and Rolan's world shrank to a single point. His suspicions were justified. Tav looked him straight in the eye and he heard a crackling sound from her mouth. It was the sound of the lollipop rolling from side to side as it hit her teeth. The lollipop was missing the wand that had penetrated it, Tav had probably just disposed of it ruthlessly.

But what happened next didn't just send Rolan into a violent insanity; this caused a storm of rage in him, comparable, perhaps, to the most destructive power of a volcano.

Tav stuck out her tongue, a red lolly glittering at the tip:

"Have you lost this?" - she said with the intonation of a daring little devil.

"Lost it? You stole it from me! You sneaky bitch, I gave you shelter, I gave you a job..." - Rolan spat out each word as he approached her and rolled up his sleeves.

"Wow, and I saved your red arse from impending doom, or have you forgotten? Choose your expressions."

"You know you're being extremely unwise, don't you? Oh, you probably know that."

He moved close to Tav and grabbed her cheeks, squeezing them with his claws:

"Spit it out now. Be an obedient dog. Return the stolen and maybe you'll stay in one piece."

Why, you may ask, was the Archimage so concerned about a some lollipops? Because they were not ordinary sweets, but magical ones. And only one merchant, almost from the Far Far Away Realm, agreed to supply them to Baldur's Gate from time to time.

Rolan first discovered them in one of the Tower's warehouses, and immediately tried them. The magic of these lollipops was that they could adapt to the needs and moods of the consumer. Perhaps it was a trait of the Tieflings or something else, but Rolan was instantly addicted to them. And now he was paying the price of sixteen rare old folios for one of these little jars. But that did not bother him. The effect they had on him - the ultimate pleasure and explosion of endorphins - was worth every gold, he thought.

"No, that won't do" - Tav muttered, her lips pressed together, "let's play a game and then we'll see."

"Excuse me? How about I hit you with a thunderwave, right here, and just take what's mine?" - Rolan shook her harder and harder, - "Hey! Don't you dare swallow that!"

"Oh no, the The Archmage will not do that. You'd kill or maim me for some stupid candy? Me, the saviour of Baldur's Gate and legend of the Sword Coast? Ha-ha! No, you would never do that, Rolan. Would you? You care so much about your... reputation." - She laughed gruntingly and slapped his hands, struggling.

"I don't care about reputation when it comes to..."

"It comes to what? To your little secret? To your addiction? You know nothing escapes my hawkish gaze."

"Zurgan! When it comes to property rights and basic rules of decency. Civility! Have you heard of it?" - The Archmage's nostrils flared as he jabbed at her with the index finger of his right hand, the other still shake her.

"So remind me, what was it about the rule that made you master of this Ramazite tower?"

Rolan released her abruptly and tapped his horns with claws, a thud sounded. It was the same sound of fingers tapping on a table as they pondered. Sometimes she was unbearable.

He was certain that she had Trickster blood in her veins. One of her distant ancestors had undoubtedly been something more than a mediocre rogue. How else to explain her complete disregard for any rules of conduct in the pursuit of mischief? She manipulated him, she blackmailed him, she used every means of influence at her disposal. Not for nothing had she reminded him that she had saved him and that he had the Tower because of her. Of course, he still had respect for Tav, despite her obnoxious behaviour and endless pressure.

No wonder she had become so close to Astarion in her time. With that amoral vampire with no vector of direction...

"What do you want from me, Tav? What is it this time?" - Rolan pulled himself together as best he could and tried to concentrate, suppressing the urges of his nature. As much as he wanted to outwit she, he knew he would lose this battle. And then he would have nothing to gain.

"Good decision, you see, sometimes you are capable of constructive dialogue after all. Like I said, I want to play a game with you," - Tav straightened and shook himself off.

"Pfft, childish. What shall i do, solve riddles?"

"No, that would be too easy for a prodigy like you. I will ask you to perform actions of a ... various nature. And you'll be an obedient boy. If I see you trying, I'll reward you. And if not, you know, it's not infinite..." - Tav began to suck the lollipop more intensely, clearly demonstrating what would happen.

"Of various nature?" - the Archmage's face crumpled as he imagined the shameful scenes, and the lines on the bridge of his nose became clearly visible. - "Tav, are you sure the worm hasn't damaged your brain? Because..."

"Hey. Hush you, we're playing this game by my rules. Risk insulting me again and you'll end up with a nothing. And if you want the prize, you pay."

"Okay! Come on, speak up faster!" - It was becoming unbearable for him to be around the 'treat' that was so close, but not his. It was like an itch, painfully tickling his insides.

"Good boy! But why aren't you talking to me on your knees? Correct yourself and apologize for all the nasty things you said to me." - the smirk never left Tav's face as she gave the first command.

What an impertinent creature, Rolan thought, but reluctantly knelt before her:

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry? Wow, look at that, the proud mage apologising for the first time. It's not bad. But I respect the spectacularity. Is that any way to apologise to a lady?" - She held out her hand and brought it to his lips.

"Forgive me, Tav, for all I have said to you today." - The Archmage took her hand and kissed it.

"You apologise, but only for today? What happened to the prodigy's memory? And speak to me with respect! I'm your Mistress, not Tav!" - she was definitely getting turned on by this game, she was getting into character and had no intention of stopping.

Rolan glared at her angrily, but obeyed:

"Will my Mistress be so kind as to forgive me for all the unjust words I have spoken to her?" - he kissed her palm once more and gently tapped it against his forehead.

"That's better. Now it's time to show you what happens to obedient toys," - Tav licked her finger sensuously and leisurely and brought it up to the Archmage's face.

Rolan smelled the saliva soaked in the flavour of the magic lolly and was immediately disturbed. He shoved all his ego up his red arse and grabbed her finger in a frenzy, shoving it all the way into his mouth and sucking and swallowing it deliciously, trying not to hurt it with his tiefling fangs.

"Um, I didn't know how much you needed that. Hey, hey, take it easy! If you bite my finger off, the deal's off. Don't be so greedy, remember!"

Rolan licked and smacked for another half minute, forgetting any squeamishness as she tore her finger from him.

"Aren't you forgetting something, kitten? Courtesy? Civility?" - Tav clarified ironically.

"Thank you, my generous Mistress" - he murmured.

Rolan appreciated the treat he was being offered, he saw that cooperation paid off and he was not so intransigent anymore. Of course, Tav took this into account immediately. She realised that she could now manipulate him like her obedient puppet.

^Pardon my punctuation skills. I still suck at it.

[allzelemonz]

Shot: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader is referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: T/Violence Warnings: Colm is his own warning, Reader is shot, injury, blood, soft Colm, non established relationship, pining Summary: Colm’s boys return from a job, one of them has been shot.

The sight of his boys coming back from a job always brings a bit of a grin to Colm’s face. It means money, drinks, and an increase in reputation. So when he approaches the boys hitching their horses he has a smirk on his face. Then he sees one of them is injured. Not someone insignificant like Billy or Seamus, it’s you. Seamus is pulling you down from his horse carefully, Billy rushing to take your other arm as they carry you towards the medic’s station. Colm can see the blood seeping through your shirt, staining that shade of green he loves so much.

He follows the boys, grabbing Billy by the shirt once you’re laid down for the medic to look at. “What happened?”

Billy looks up at his boss with an experienced terror. Colm spoke very softly, very calmly. He is not the type to yell unless it’s for show. If Colm O’Driscoll is angry, he whispers. Billy tries to recall what happened during the job but it was all so fast. You were on your horse one second, shooting the law, and the next you were on the ground and Seamus was yelling something.

“I, uh-”

Colm’s fist twists into Billy’s shirt, yanking him closer. “That boy dies, you die.”

Billy swallows his nerves and nods quickly. “Yes, boss.”

When Colm releases him, Billy scrambles over to help the medic. Seamus is already crushing some plants to help because he is very well aware of the stakes even without being warned. He has seen the way Colm looks at you, the way his gaze no longer lingers on your arms, your chest, occasionally a bulge in tight pants, but on your face. He knows what even Colm doesn’t fully recognise yet, so he works with haste.

The medic has Billy hold you down while he digs a bullet from your gut. Colm watches intently from the doorway, having to remind himself to blink on occasion. Seamus brings rags to stop the bleeding when the medic drops the bullet and goes to get tonics. You’re barely awake, only able to hear the occasional generic reassurance from Billy as he nervously glances between you and Colm. Seamus makes room for the medic to clean you up and bandage you. Your blood covers his hands, his shirt, the floor as far as he can see, but the medic says you’ll be fine.

Colm steps inside as Seamus runs off to wash the blood from him. Billy stays, soaking up what’s fallen on the floor. The medic sets the tonics in order by your head and with a look from Colm, he pulls Billy with him as he leaves. Colm stands over you. Your shirt has been removed and a few weeks ago that would bring thoughts to Colm’s mind, he might have taken advantage of you. Now, his eyes search your face for pain and he finds himself wincing when you do. So he can’t help but to sit by your bedside.

When you wake there’s not much other than pain. Pain and a warm feeling in your hand. You look down and find a hand gripping yours, so you follow the arm up only to be met with your boss. Colm is asleep, his other hand propping his head up, but his grip is strong and you could never pull your hand away even if you wanted to. Your wound isn’t on your mind anymore, despite the pain. It’s not shocking that you were shot and it hurts, it’s shocking that Colm O’Driscoll fell asleep holding your hand. You lightly squeeze, testing to see if it’s real, and when Colm stirs you know it is.

He blinks his eyes open slowly, meeting your gaze before looking down to your wound. “Ya ain’t leavin’ camp fer a month.”

There’s that soft voice, usually terrifying but somehow comforting when he speaks now. His thumb runs across your knuckles and you can feel your heart skip. Gentleness from Colm is something you’ve never seen. You didn’t know he was capable of it.

“Boss?” You ask, a crack in your voice from the dryness you only now notice.

Colm is silent as he hands you the first tonic in the medic’s line up. He knows it’s a painkiller, he’s taken plenty when he’s been shot. You’ve spent your whole career as an O’Driscoll not questioning orders from Colm, you know better than to refuse anything from him. And even now, with him all tender, you take the bottle without hesitation and drink its contents. He takes the bottle when you’re done, his finger brushing yours and making you feel that skip again.

He brings your hand up and presses a kiss to your knuckles, sighing. “Ya ain’t tellin’ a soul ‘bout all this.”

You have to take a second to process and find your voice again. “Yes, boss.”

“Colm.” He corrects. “Ya call me Colm when we’re alone, darlin’.”

“Colm.” You try and it feels strange.

Of course you’ve used his name. You’ve sat around the fire with the boys, telling stories and jokes about the boss when he wasn’t around. You’ve complained about him endlessly, the way any other member of the gang has. But here it’s different. Here it’s not just about the name, there’s something special attached to using it while he’s actually able to hear it.

He hums. “That’s it, sugar.”

You squeeze his hand and he smiles, releasing you and standing. He leans over you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. For a moment, he lingers and you can relish the moment. Then he stands upright and smooths out his vest.

“Not a word, boy.” He warns and you can hear that usual venom again, like turning a lantern back on.

“Not a word.” You repeat.

Colm can’t help the sentimentality of lightly dragging his fingers down your leg as he walks away. He orders the medic to check on you, Seamus to keep an eye on you. For the rest of the day he just tries to forget that you’re hurt and act like himself. He hates that he’s turning into some lovesick dog. He’s never fallen before and he doesn’t know what to do.

[does-the-mashup-slap]

Mashup artists featured on this blog

Note: due to tumblr having a limit on the number of links you can have in one post, I've only linked the tags of those mashup artists who have more than one word in their name, or if it's long/complicated. You'll have to type the others into search yourself.

# 

3DMA

64gigs

86toMoose

A

a table

Adamusic

Amanda

Andrew Hagen

AnDyWuMUSICLAND

Anna McBurgendy

Arkadius

axelnapalm

B

Baaanggg

Beans McSprout

Bessco Samune

Birch

Blanter Co

Blood Love

Boebie

Byronxazz

C

Cacola

Cameron Hayes

Camhorn

Choinkus

chongo

Chris Taylor

CLMC Music

Cow Vibing

Cryptrik

D

dabunky

Damonis Midnight

Daniel Kendall

DaymanOurSavior

Deep V

Demi Adejuyigbe

demionbrisk

Denis Tognolo

Deospark

DiamondBrickZ

Dimitri Schmidt

diornotwar123

DJCJ

DJ BrookeTheProducer

DJ Cummerbund

DJ Earworm

DJ Flapjack

DJ MikeA

DJ Morgoth

DJ Poly

DJ Poulpi

DJ Surge-N

DM Mashups

domburg

Domino's Dump

DRA'man

Drewdot

duuzu

E

earlvin14

Ella Noir

Ellie Spectacular

Ema Pex

Eminem Mashups

EpicToast

eqt. studios

Erika Ersson

EvilGenki

Exightly

F

FG Roland DJ

Flipboitamidles

FrenchFri

G

Gingergreen

goodthingsnow777

Grave Danger

Gregory Brothers

groboclone

H

Hailey Schnur

Hala Nassar

Happy Cat Disco

harpistkt

Hilolila

Horologium

How2BEpic

I

Ian

Idlehands

InanimateMashups

Irn Mnky

itspeyday

Isomer

Isosine

Ivaalo

J

J Mixes

jackhoeting 909

Jacob Sutherland

Jake Ranney

Jalex Petrie

Jamie Truelove Music

Jason Rollins

Joebot the Robot

Jerome Tremenz

John Fassold

Joleszezanev

Jonathan Coulton

Joseph James

JSaga

Justin Robinett

jyeoms

K

Kahizer

Karu

Kathleen

Kill_mR_DJ

Kiltro

Krale

L

Lamaita

levsadohoff

LibraH

Liddell

lobsterdust

Lopan

Lord Pandemicus

Luise Gad Lund

M

Madeon

madmartigan2012

Marc Johnce

Mark Hattori

Masdamind99

Mastgrr

Matt Nguyen-Ngo

Mauricio V

mashed potatoes

memes die

Michael Henry

MixmstrStel

mrfun4isback

Mouthies

MysticWolf

N

nakinyko

Nandy sisters

Nate Belasco

Neddly

Neil Circierega

Norwegian Recycling

O

OctogonCollaboration

OhKay

One Bored Jeu

Oskr96fred 4

Otto Hast

P

paper-mario-wiki

Partyben

Pat and Sean Kelly

PaulineeIsHere

Ph0ton

piratecovejoe

Piscicore

pluffaduff

PomDeter

Pomplamoose

primmsfairytale

ProdByJadii

pseudosalient

Psynwav

R

Rage/Chill Music

Raheem D

Rani KoHEnur

Ranvision

Red Omega

RezaMusic

Rick Sama

Robin Skouteris

Rolling Quartz

Ruskya

S

Salvador Peralta

Scibot9000

Scott

Scout

SheldonJpiripCooper

shimshamwow

Shokk

Shoopfex

SilvaGunner

Slayyyter

SmadaLeinad

Sowndhaus

SP Mashups

Squeaky Belle

swag mastar

Szoszism

T

T12

Taylor Kennedy

TCMusic

Tenkrom

The Optimist

There I Ruined It

THiNGYBOBinc

thquib

Tito Silva

Titus Jones

Triple Q

U

UberDisney

Ultra Music

Unai

unknown

V

Valter Henrique

Vazer

W

Wax Audio

Waxolotl

William Maranci

Wyd Hart

Y

YamiNoBahamut

Yitt

Z

Zakuzu

Zedd

Zode

Zoraya

Other artists/types of music

Bad Lip Reading

Key shift (major to minor or vice versa)

Shitposts

[crisiscutie]

would we be able to get a scenario of snuggles with everyone's favourite mommy's boy? I wanna give him all the headpats in the world, he deserves so much love

I'm assuming you mean C.C. (Nibelheim Incident Sephiroth) from HoS. Enjoy this entry in the Crisis Cutie Collection.

Content Warning: Mommy Kink.

With your arms wrapped tightly around your sweet boy's neck, Sephiroth carried you in a bridal-style to your room, his eyes shining with excitement at being reunited with you. He just came home from his latest conquest and, once again, presented you with an array of trinkets he had collected. Despite your constant reassurances that gifts are unnecessary, he insists, explaining that his mother deserves only the finest.

If only you could find a way to help him overcome this... He would be happier and more confident in his love for you if you can. It's not that you have a problem with his love... His devotion is admirable, but it's impossible to ignore the fact that something in his past has made him crave for your constant love and affection... Did you fail him at one point? Surely, you didn't abandon him. You love him. You love ALL THE Sephiroths! Right? The possibility that you may have hurt him, to cause him to be like this in your amnesiac past is something that haunts you. Maybe there really is a way you could break him out of it. You want him to be happy and confident...

You can't help but feel guilty about this, especially when how good he's been around you lately. His hostility towards other Sephiroths is still apparent, but he has been on his best behavior around you, exhibiting a newfound sense of self-control and restraint. It's almost like there is something inside him, pushing him to be better. It can't be you, and it certainly can't be Jenova.

Once you both reached your room, he carefully lowered you to the ground and let you undress him in preparation for bedtime. You had carefully removed his shoulder pauldrons, trench coat, and any other snuggle distractions, then lovingly pulled him into bed with you, wrapping your arms around him.

With a sense of joy, he tenderly buried his face in the crook of your neck, planting sweet, loving kisses as you responded with a soft, contented sound and combed your fingers through his smooth, lustrous silver tresses.

"I missed you so much, Y/N.."

You stopped, eyes widened... D-did he use your name for the first time? You heard the other Sephiroths use it before, but never this one. He always called you mother... You were at a loss for words, unable to respond to his loving words. Heavy tears welled up in your eyes. You never knew how much you wanted him to say that until now. The desire that had been lurking in the shadows, now revealed in the light.

Looking up from your neck, he briefly displayed a smile that was both warm and uncharacteristic of him. Like he is another Sephiroth... This soon subdued, as tears began to cascade down your face. His slit eyes then regained their usual lovesick and obsessed expression, radiating intense concern at your emotional state.

"Mother?" While tightly gripping your hips, he scanned your face and torso with haste, searching for any clues about what could cause your distress.

"What's wrong?! Please tell me Mother!" He said. His tone changes, channeling the desperation of a young boy who just wants his mother to be happy and comfortable again.

"I'm fine, my sweet boy.... It's just tears of happiness."

Despite the tears, you managed to give Sephiroth a big warm smile which seemed to ease him, though your joy was tinged with sorrow. While he himself was unsure about your tears of happiness, he nevertheless flashed a smile at you.

"Then let me be the cause of your happiness, Mother."

Moving his face closer to your neck, he trailed his nose down it slowly, until he eventually stopped at your collarbone, licking and tease your skin with his tongue. The sensation of his hot tongue lapping your skin sends shivers of pleasure through your entire body as you cradled his head. In a rare and feral display, he bared his teeth and bit down on the skin with such force that it drew blood, something you haven't seen from him in a long time. A sudden, startled yelp escaped your lips, and you clung to him tightly while he hungrily licked up the blood seeping from your skin. He gradually let up on the love bite, leaving it swollen and throbbing as you whimpered in delight afterwards.

His eyes sparkled with satisfaction as he looked at the mark he left on you and your pleasured state. He didn't need anymore words to convey more of his love; he simply laid his head on your chest and let out a deep, rumbling purr.

[kookie-doughs]

Again And Again

Portgas D Ace X Reader

-Amatsuki Y/N decided to stay in the future without her sister upon meeting a friend’s son.

Chapter 8: Remember

As the ship arrives at Marineford, you find yourself amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the attack between Whitebeard and Aokiji that resulted in the frozen tsunami wave trapping the warship.

As the ship comes to a halt atop the frozen tsunami by Aokiji's attack, you quickly assess the situation. Knowing that time is of the essence, you decide to get off the ship to examine any potential means of escape. The battlefield is filled with chaos, and the urgency of the situation is palpable. Jinbe and Crocodile looks around as well.

As you step onto the frozen wave, you search for any way to navigate through the perilous terrain. The icy surface makes it challenging to move, but you remain focused on finding a path forward.

In the midst of the chaos, the Den Den Mushi within the warship you rode with suddenly starts to ring, catching attention everyone's attention.

"Calling all ships and troops. Our target is sit TOTTZ. Change formation and initiate Operation three. Make haste with preparation. Once preparation are complete, we'll push the schedule forward and execute Ace! Over."

As you hear the chilling message from the Den Den Mushi, a sense of dread washes over you. The urgency of the situation hits you like a tidal wave, and you feel lost, as if the whole world has crumbled around you. Shock sets in as you process the gravity of what's about to happen – Ace's life is in immediate danger, and you need to act fast.

"Y/N, come on we need to hurry." Jinbe urges, but the shock keeps you rooted to the spot for a moment.

Luffy's determined voice breaks through the haze, pulling you back to the present. "We won't let them kill Ace!" he declares, his eyes burning with resolve.

His words snap you out of your stupor, and a fierce determination wells up inside you. Time is of the essence, and you can't afford to hesitate.

"Come on, you can do this," you tell yourself, shaking off the shock and rallying your strength.

"We'll rescue Ace, no matter what it takes!" you say to your group, the fierce resolve in your eyes.

They each began to figure out a way to get to the battlefield. Listing off possible ways.

"We don't have time for that." You say solemnly. You look down onto the on going chaos at the bottom. "Hey you guys."

They turn to you as you called for their attention. You pull your sword from the sheath.

"Hold on." You warn as you cut the ice that held the ship down. With a swift and decisive strike, the ship breaks free from the frozen tsunami.

As the ship begins to plummet down, panic ensues among everyone on board. The sudden drop catches everyone off guard, and shouts of alarm fill the air. The chaotic scene perilous situation you all find yourselves in, caught the attention of everyone on the battlefield.

"We're all going to die!!!" Cry Buggy.

"Oh wait! I'm made of rubber! I'll be fine!" Luffy says.

Your eyes quickly scan the battlefield, searching for important figures. Taking note of where each and everyone was. Your heart pounds in your chest as you desperately look for Marco. The urgency of the situation propels you into action, and you raise your voice to call out for his attention, even as you continue to descend from the sky.

"Marco!" you yell, your voice carrying over the tumultuous noise of the battlefield.

Your eyes lock onto his figure amidst the field, and you wave your hand frantically, trying to catch his attention. Time seems to slow down as you freefall towards the ground, but you can't afford to waste a moment.

Marco's head turns in the direction of your voice, and his gaze finds you. Recognition flashes in his eyes, and he quickly assesses the situation.

"Y/N!" he calls back, his voice projecting with clarity. "I see you!"

Relief washes over you as you realize that he heard you. Your trust in Marco. You know that you can count on him.

As Marco quickly processes the urgency behind your call, he wastes no time. Activating the power of his fruit, Marco's body ignites with brilliant blue flames, and his large wings unfurl. With a powerful flap, he takes to the air, soaring towards your falling position.

The sight of Marco flying towards you, took a turn in favor of the Whitebeard pirates.

"Y/N'S HERE!!!!" Was the cheer that erupted from your crew.

With a gentle yet precise maneuver, Marco aligns himself beneath you, catching you. As your feet make contact with his broad back, you hold on tightly, feeling the warmth of his flames enveloping you in a protective embrace.

"SAVE US TOO!!!" Cry Buggy's crew.

"Are you alright?" Marco asks, concern evident in his eyes as he glances back at you while maintaining his steady flight.

You nod, grateful for his swift response and assistance. "Thank you, Marco. C'mon get down fast I need to make a landing spot for them."

You land safely on the ground amidst the chaos of the battlefield. Thinking quickly, you draw your sword and swing it with precision, creating a large cleared area for your allies to safely land. The ice beneath you splits apart, forming a landing zone that was water.

"Jinbe! Take care of the others!!"

The impact is jarring as they plunge into the sea, and for a moment you notice that some of them are struggling in the water due to their Devil Fruit abilities. Just as concern starts to rise, Jinbe, comes to the rescue.

With Jinbe's help, everyone makes it safely to the nearby shore. As you all regroup and catch your breath, the ongoing battle remains a fierce backdrop to your mission to save Ace.

You glance towards the direction of the platform where Ace is being held, the center of the conflict, looking helplessly at your group. His expression is a mix of surprise and despair, seeing you and your group. Your heart clenches at the sight, and you're filled with a renewed determination to reach him.

"ACE!!!" Luffy yells from beside you.

"I FINALLY FOUND YOU!!!!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking carrying so many emotions.

Ace looks between you and Luffy, the turmoil in his heart evident. He knows that you both care deeply for him, but he also knows the dangers that lie ahead. The gravity of the situation and the sacrifices made on his behalf are not lost on him.

"Y/N!! LUFFY!!!!!"

As the crowd assess the battle and your group. Your eyes lock with Ace.

"We've come to save you!" Luffy says, laced with determination.

"Is this the brother Ace is always talking about?" Marco asks from beside you.

You smile, "Yeah."

~

"Fire Fist Ace... Is now free!!!!" Was what the battlefield had echoed.

The reunion between Luffy and Ace is a moment of triumph in the midst of the chaos at Marineford.

As the battle rages on at Marineford, Luffy and Ace fight with all their might, pushing through the chaos and the powerful enemies in their way. Together, they forge a path to safety, determined to escape the clutches of the Marines and make it out of the war alive.

As the chaos and battles continued to rage around you at Marineford, you found yourself standing still, unable to move or react. The sight of Ace, running to you, was overwhelming. The gravity of the moment and the realization that you had finally gotten to him left you in a state of shock.

But now, in the present, everything had changed. Ace had been through so much, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of emotions—relief at finding him, guilt for not being there sooner, and sorrow for all the pain he had endured.

"Ace..." you finally managed to whisper, your voice filled with a mix of emotions.

You swiftly took down enemies on your way, running to Ace. The memories of your shared past, and the deep bond you once had flooded your mind. It was as if time had rewound, and you were transported back to those cherished moments.

You succeeded. You saved him.

As you finally closed the distance between you and Ace, the overwhelming emotions that had been building inside you burst forth uncontrollably. Without a second thought, you leaped into his arms, holding onto him tightly, and tears streamed down your cheeks.

"Ace... I finally got to you," you sobbed, your voice choked with relief and pent-up emotions.

Ace wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a comforting embrace. He could feel your heartache and the weight of everything you had been through to find him. In that moment, words were unnecessary; the bond between you said it all.

"Ace... I... I thought I was going to lose you," you managed to say between sobs, your voice choked with emotion.

Ace wipes away your tear. "I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere," he reassured you softly.

The chaos of the battlefield seemed to fade away as you clung to Ace, seeking solace in his presence. He was holding you, you were holding him. History did not repeat. Being reunited with him filled you with a sense of hope and warmth that you hadn't felt in a long time.

But even amidst the comfort of the reunion, the reality of the situation remained. The war at Marineford was far from over, and the dangers were still very real. With a deep breath, you slowly pulled away from Ace, wiping the tears from your eyes.

"We need to get out of here," you said, your voice determined. "We'll find a way to keep you safe, Ace, I promise."

Ace nodded, a fierce determination in his eyes. "We'll get through this together, just like old times."

"Clear the way so they can get away!!!" Haruta orders.

With Ace by your side once again, a newfound strength surged through your veins. The power of your emotions, the sheer determination to protect him ignited a blaze within you. As you ran through the chaos of Marineford, your swipes and attacks became more potent and precise, clearing a path ahead for you and your companions.

With every strike of your sword, the enemies were thrown back, and obstacles were effortlessly overcome. The fear and panic that had gripped your heart earlier were now replaced by a sense of fierce resolve. You knew that as long as you had Ace by your side, you could face anything that came your way. The enemies that dared to stand in your path quickly learned the folly of challenging you.

As the battle of Marineford reached its climax, the mighty Whitebeard, with wounds from countless enemies, stood tall and resolute.

"Enough!" Whitebeard's booming voice echoes through the battlefield. "There is no need for us to keep fighting here!"

"Old man...?" Your speed reduces as you try to look at what he was up to.

"Listen carefully, Whitebeard Pirates. I'm going to give you all my final order as your captain!"

Hearing this, you stop on your tracks.

"H-Hey what the hell do you fucking mean?" Your voice trembled.

"Pops!" Ace calls beside you.

"It is time for us to part ways! Everyone, survive at any cost and return to the New World safely!"

"What the hell are you saying?! Edward!!" You call out. You prepared yourself about to jump to him only for Marco to stop you.

"Y/N!" He bites his lip down.

"Marco what are you doing?!"

Edward smirks, "I am a relic of a bygone era! There is no ship that can carry me into the new age! Escape from here, everyone!"

Edward's words hit you like a tidal wave, and your heart aches at the realization of his intentions. His smirk, although filled with determination, also carries a sense of resignation. You knew that he had fought tirelessly for his beliefs, but the world around him had changed, and he believed there was no place for him in the new age.

As he release a devastating quake, you feel a pang of helplessness. Anger surges through you, intertwined with a deep sense of sorrow. Seeing him facing his own destiny and making sacrifices for the crew reminds you of Roger.

It's as if he's come to terms with his fate, just as Roger had done all those years ago. And it angers you because you don't want to experience that same sense of loss and helplessness again. While you understand his reasons and the weight of his sacrifice, you can't bring yourself to follow his orders blindly. You can't simply abandon him to his fate, knowing the inevitable outcome that awaits him.

Instead, you make a difficult decision. Ignoring Marco, you rush towards him, determined to stay by his side until the very end. The chaos of the battlefield surrounds you, but your focus is solely on reaching Whitebeard.

"Y/N!!!" Ace calls for you.

But you press on, driven by an unyielding sense of loyalty and respect for the man who once carried you on his ship.

"Ace, I'll follow you behind! Go ahead!" you yell, hoping your voice reaches him amidst the turmoil.

He glances back at you, uncertainty in his eyes, but he nods in understanding. He knows you well enough to trust that you'll keep your promise. He glances back at you, uncertainty in his eyes, but he nods in understanding. He knows you well enough to trust that you'll keep your promise.

Whitebeard's anger at your defiance is evident in his stern gaze and furrowed brow. He had given you a clear order to escape and leave him behind, but you chose to stay by his side, putting yourself in danger. As your captain, he feels responsible for your well-being, and your actions have undoubtedly angered him.

"I told you to go!" he booms, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and concern. "Why won't you listen to me?"

You meet his gaze with determination, trying to convey your own reasons for staying. "I am not going to lose anyone today, Edward," you reply firmly. "Especially not my captain."

For a moment, his anger seems to waver, replaced by a hint of sadness. He remembers your reason of fighting. As the chaos of battle surrounds you, he looks at you with a mix of pride and regret.

"You're a stubborn one," he grumbles, his anger softening slightly. Looking behind him seeing Ace run, "Do you think he was happy with me as his father...?"

You follow his eyes, "Of course he was."

Whitebeard sighs heavily, a hint of frustration lingers. "Get ready, don't think I won't be keeping an eye on you. If things get too dangerous, you better get out of there."

Amidst the chaos and destruction of your own battle, you catch glimpses of Ace and the others, running. You feel a surge of calmness knowing that they are closer to safety.

But whilst you were distracted Akainu slips past you and Whitebeard, you immediately sense the danger he poses to Ace. Despite being busy keeping the other marines and admirals at bay, you can't let him reach them.

Akainu's tactics are cunning; instead of attacking directly, he tries to rile Ace up by insulting both you and Whitebeard. His words are meant to provoke a reaction, to distract Ace and make him lose focus in the midst of the battle.

"Ace, don't let him get to you!" you hear Marco call out.

A sudden explosion echoed behind you, snapping your attention to its source. As you turned, your heart sank at the sight that greeted you – Ace was lying on the ground. With Akainu towering over him.

"ACE?!!" You call out. You see him struggle to get on his knees.

In a desperate attempt to protect his brother, Luffy tried to move forward but collapsed to his knees, drained of all his energy. Akainu, seeing an opportunity, set his sights on Luffy, ready to strike. But before he could deliver the fatal blow, Ace acted swiftly, using his own body as a shield to block the attack. The impact of Akainu's attack sent shockwaves through the battlefield, and Ace's sacrifice left everyone stunned and horrified. The air was thick with tension as the gravity of the situation sank in, and you could only watch in heart-wrenching silence as the events unfolded before you. The world around you seemed to stand still as you froze in shock and disbelief.

As you stared at Ace, your heart felt heavy, and a chilling silence enveloped your surroundings. The chaotic battle around you seemed to fade into the background, leaving you in a state of numbness. The world seemed to move in slow motion, and all you could hear was the faint thumping of your own heart, as if it were the only sound in existence.

As the reality of the situation sank in, tears welled up in your eyes, and a deep ache settled in your chest.

As you watched Ace fall to his knees and rest on Luffy, barely clinging to life, a surge of desperation coursed through you. The world seemed to blur as you ran towards them, your legs moving as if driven by an unseen force. Each step felt heavy, as if you were carrying the weight of the entire world on your shoulders. Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound echoing in your ears, drowning out the chaos around you. Time seemed to slow down, every second feeling like an eternity. The distance between you and Ace felt like an insurmountable chasm, and you pushed yourself harder, willing yourself to reach him faster.

As you finally reached Ace's side, you fell to your knees, your hands trembling as you tried to steady yourself. Looking at Ace you felt a sense of helplessness wash over you. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you wanted to do to save him, but it was as if your words were lost in the sea of emotions crashing within you.

"H-Hey, are you all right? Hey..." You hear Luffy call. "Ace, you need to get treated right away!"

"I'm sorry..." Ace whispers.

"Stay with us, Ace," you pleaded, your voice cracking with emotion. "Please, don't leave me."

"You've both... done so much to save me... But I won't make it out of here... I'm sorry."

"Don't say that..." You begged. You crawl behind Luffy to get a view of his face.

"Don't be ridiculous! Please! Somebody treat him!! Please help Ace!! Please!!"

As one of the doctors in the Whitebeard pirates run to your aid. He takes a step back upon seeing his wounds.

"H-Hey Hublot, w-why aren't you doing anything?? I-Is this something y-you can't help with?? M-Marco, call for Marco!"

"Y/N, stop. It's no use. I won't last long... I can tell, my life is ending..."

"Ace... what are you saying?" Luffy's voice cracked. "Are you going to die...? Y-You promised me... that you'd never die... no matter what, Ace!"

"I would've given up a long time ago... if it weren't for Sabo and a high-maintenance brother like you." He paused. "If you ever see Dadan again... can you give her my regards?"

"Ace stop it... Don't say that you're gonna die. Please." You sobbed. You held his cheek.

"You know... there' is something's two thing... that makes me want to stay..."

"Then stay... C'mon... Ace..." Your lips tremble.

"Y/N, I'm sorry... can you please... complete one of them for me?"

"Complete it yourself!" Luffy begs.

"In my life... I have only one regret." As Ace looked at you, the light in his eyes slowly fading. "I wish I've loved you sooner. I wish... I wish I could stay longer to show you... how much I love you."

As a slowly and heavily leaned into your hand that stayed on your cheek. "I've realized that what I really wanted... wasn't fame. Did I deserve to be born? I wanted to know the answer to that question. I'm not able to shout loudly enough for everyone to hear me anymore... could you tell them... the words I'm about to say... I've always been such a hopeless person... Thank you... for loving me."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you whispered, "Ace... I love you, so much."

His lips curved into a gentle smile, and as the light in his eyes faded completely, his final expression remained one of peace and contentment.

As Ace's lifeless body collapsed into Luffy's arms, you both stared in disbelief, desperately calling for him to wake up. But the reality of his passing started to sink in, and a gut-wrenching sob escaped from Luffy's lips, echoing across the battlefield.

Tears streamed down your face.

The chaos of the war seemed to fade away, leaving only a profound sense of loss and grief. Luffy's cries echoed in your ears, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both mourned. As Luffy's devastation and exhaustion set on him, he passes out.

You stare aimlessly at the brothers that was around you. Your mind was blank as you slowly get up.

Everyone that fought for Ace were grieving. Marco himself was grieving, but seeing you. He knew something was wrong.

"Y/N!" He calls you out, but all fell to deaf ears.

As the grief inside you turned into anger, a seething rage began to consume your being. The weight of loss was replaced by a burning desire for vengeance. The bloodlust within you surged, and the sight of the battlefield before you only fueled your fury.

The faces of those responsible flashed before your eyes, and your grip on your weapon tightened. The anger that overwhelmed you was primal, raw, and all-consuming.

In that moment, you felt an overwhelming urge to make them pay, to make them suffer for what they had done. The enemy became faceless, nameless, mere symbols of the injustice that had taken Ace away from you.

Fueled by a mix of grief and determination, you launch a powerful attack. Each strike carries the weight of your emotions, channeling your anger into every blow. Exuding haki that the entire battlefield could feel.

Your enemies are taken aback by the intensity of your assault, and some even falter in the face of your unyielding resolve. The bloodlust within you fuels your strength, but you also find yourself drawing upon the memories of the moments you shared with Ace, his laughter, his smiles, and the bond you had lost.

"AKAINU!!!" Your gut wrenching scream heard by everyone. Everyone moved away form your path to him.

"Y/N!" Edward calls for you.

With a primal scream, you unleashed a devastating attack on Akainu, pouring all your grief and rage into the strike. The clash between your power and his was intense, sending shockwaves through the air and cracking the ground beneath your feet. Akainu tried to counter, but your determination was unyielding, and he struggled to keep up with your relentless assault.

In your blinded fury, you swung your sword with reckless abandon, not caring about the injuries you sustained or the pain you felt from his attacks. All that mattered was bringing down the man who had taken Ace away from you. The loss of your love had left you numb, and you no longer feared the consequences of your actions.

As your sword cut through Akainu's defenses, blood oozed from his wounds, but he refused to back down. The battle was fierce and brutal, with both of you refusing to give an inch. The air was thick with tension and the smell of blood, and the battlefield around you seemed to fade away as you became locked in a deadly dance with your enemy.

Despite the pain and exhaustion, you pressed on. Every strike was infused with the weight of your grief, and each blow carried the force of your determination to avenge him. The emotions that had overwhelmed you were now channeled into your attacks, making you a force to be reckoned with.

"Y/N stop!!" The area you stood quake as you see Edward use his fruit. Your loss of footing caused you to the ground.

The stop of your fury of attacks brought your bloodlust to a halt, the overwhelming emotions you had been suppressing burst forth. You released a gut-wrenching sob, the pain and grief of losing Ace finally breaking through the wall you had built around your heart.

In that moment, Edward embraced you, holding you close as you cried. He could feel the weight of your sorrow and understood the depth of your pain. As your captain and someone who had lost so much in his life, he knew what it meant to suffer such a devastating loss.

"You don't have to bear this burden alone," Edward said softly, his voice filled with compassion. "Y/N calm down."

His words offered some comfort, but the ache in your heart was still raw and agonizing. The memories of Ace flooded your mind, the laughter, the adventures, and the love you had shared together. The realization that he was truly gone was like a stab in the heart, leaving an emptiness that seemed impossible to fill.

As you clung to Edward, he let you cry, understanding that sometimes the only way to heal was to let the pain flow freely. He knew that there were no words that could erase your grief, but he hoped that his presence and the support of everyone could offer some solace.

With tears still staining your cheeks, you pulled away from Edward's embrace, your gaze fixated on Akainu with a newfound determination. The pain of losing Ace had fueled your anger, but now it fueled your resolve to make things right. In that moment, you knew what you had to do.

"I won't let this happen again," you declared.

Edward understanding what you had meant, concern etched on his face as he reached out to grab your arm gently. "Y/N there-"

Your lifeless eyes met his. And at that moment Edward knew he couldn't change your mind. He releases his hold.

And that marked your first try.

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@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @nykie-love-anime @cinnamonrollscafe @sol-d15

[whyhellosims]

Me: I don't make a sims story out of every household I play!

Also Me:

She watched him kneeling next to the garden bed, admiring the way his fingers delved and dug in the dirt, sensitive to the plant roots. He had that soft expression on his face she’d come to appreciate—sorrow diluted by present pleasure, a haunting melancholy she’d always been drawn to.

Why was it so difficult to know someone else? Why did it seem like no matter how many questions she asked, she never got past the front gate of his core? How many times had his diffident smile deflected her inquiries, distracting her from her purpose?

“I can go,” she offered, wondering now, as she had so many other times, if she was intruding.

He looked over at her, a gentle turn that lifted his eyes, unintentionally coy, and put the long column of his graceful throat on display.

“I enjoy your company,” he said, and perhaps something in the troubled nature of her expression gave him pause. He sat back on his heels, concern stealing the subtle sorrow from his face. “Fallon?”

She wasn’t sure what possessed her—she leaned forward on one braced hand and kissed him, his beard prickling against her skin. His mouth was warm and soft, his teeth firm behind his lips, his tongue wet and silky when it met hers.

She found herself cupping his jaw, abandoning her position to push against him, a climbing vine he never expected in the serene order of his garden. In the distance the waves crashed against the pier and the seagulls screamed, the only ones who might spy them there fumbling in the shade of a towering tree.

“Bjorn,” she breathed, a prayer, a magic incantation to draw him out, to draw him to her. She clung to him, pulling him with her down into the grass, hands snagging and tugging at his clothes. “Bjorn, Bjorn...”

The hungry pull of his kisses surprised her, as did the way his dirt-streaked fingers trembled with haste, pushing her skirt up, tracing the length of her thigh to her hip in search of her underwear and finding nothing more than skin.

The waistband of his pants gave easily to her insistence, his stomach a firm, domed slab tightening against the brush of her knuckles. Her knees rucked his shirt up, toes pushing down his pants and boxers as he slid against her, coiling into a knot in the soft grass, dappled sunlight dazzling her eyes.

He reared over her, into her, a slow and steady slide of swollen flesh, hot and deliciously large, pushing deeper and deeper until she bowed her back, feet braced, and arched up to meet him.

“Bjorn.” She twined her arms around him, moving in time with his thrusts, his breath coming in soft, shocked gasps against her ear. His heart pounded against hers, an excited staccato gaining speed. She tightened around him, the angle and size of his body pushing her rapidly towards bliss. “Bjorn, Bjorn...”

She turned her head, delighted by the urgency of his kiss, the hungry way he devoured her mouth as they moved so desperately together. It built quickly, so suddenly that she moaned his name loud, fingers clenching in the firm muscle of his flexing back, tightening up around him as the pleasure peaked.

The low, rumbling sound it pulled from him paid homage to his namesake, a chest-deep purr of satisfaction as he strained against her, short and sharp thrusts that slowed as sensation ebbed.

It left them both breathing hard, coated in a fine sheen of sweat, the wind teasing their skin with prickles.

“Bjorn,” she murmured, cradling him with her whole body as he slumped over her, replete and, perhaps, content. She smoothed his hair, finger combing the fine blond strands away from his damp forehead, his warm face nestled in the bend of her neck. He kissed her there and she smiled, relishing the way he stayed with her, in her, connected in the only way she could entice him.

Eventually, unhappy reality intruded. He pushed up on his elbow, looking down at her with vast affection. His touch was tender when he stroked her face, stroked her hair, traced her throat down to her chest, around the curve of her breast to her waist.

She braced her foot, knee sliding up, and smiled to feel him twitch inside her.

“Will you stay for dinner?” he asked.

Fallon nodded. “I can help you cook, if you like.”

His soft smile was like food for her starving soul.

“Of course,” he said, and kissed her again before reluctantly sitting up and sliding out of her.

There was a decadent satisfaction in the aftermath, in the bits of grass in her hair, in the streaks of dirt from his fingers on her skin, in the slippery, wet slide of his come threatening to escape down her thighs. He gave her a pair of his wife’s underwear, assuring her they’d never been worn, and offered to let her shower, but Fallon declined. She wore the underwear, and part of her hoped she’d get pregnant from their tryst. She made dinner with him and his daughters and son, present in their family but not part of it. Clara’s space was large, unfilled, a silent, uncaring specter in the lives of her loved ones. Fallon felt the space she’d left behind, like a room shut up tight and locked against intrusion, unused and undisturbed and left to grow stale in its owner’s absence. She hoped he’d take her to bed there, to clear the cobwebs of Clara from one spot in this mausoleum, but he didn’t. He quietly cleared the dishes while his children did homework, played, chatted, his gaze faraway again.

His eldest, a bright girl, beautiful and hard as a diamond, picked a strand of grass from Fallon’s hair and told her, “I wouldn’t make plans.”

“I’m not,” Fallon told her. “I just want him to be happy.”

“I’m not sure he has that capacity.”

[demonicwookie]

The Waiting Game

Content: Hospitalization, hurt/comfort. Febuwhump Day 2: Holding back tears. Crossposted on AO3 @ DemonicWookie +

Damian has always despised waiting.

As a child, he was often cautioned against haste and told he was impatient when others moved too slow for his liking. The punishments for speaking out about it were light, as swiftness has its usefulness.

With the passing of time, he grew to temper his dislike of monotony. Restraint is an invaluable skill in the field, and thus he trained it with great importance. This redoubled when he took to Gotham’s streets, getting used to it with the amount of stakeouts that Father undertook.

Now, as he sits in the corner of a waiting room in the Gotham General Hospital, Damian feels his old grudge returning with a vengeance.

He does have a modicum of comfort as he is not the only one struggling to release his tension.

Jason sits near the door, a scowl painted on his features. His shoulders are slumped with the crossing of his arms, the muscles of his wrists bunching as he picks at the calluses on his hands.

Timothy is beside him, the light from his phone illuminating his face. Deep bags drag at the skin beneath his eyes and the soft tissues of his sclera are reddened with irritation from having stared at a screen for too long.

Resting her feet against his lap is Cassandra, her legs stretching the distance of the aisle. She stares at each passerby, searching for answers in the faces of healthcare workers as they wander close.

Father is on the phone as he paces a nearby hallway, his only company the two vending machines that line the wall. He is speaking to one of his lawyers, voice quiet as to avoid disrupting any nearby civilians.

And Richard…

He is nowhere to be seen.

Damian had not laid eyes on his eldest brother since that morning when he left the manor to meet with Barbara. He had been in a hurry, rushing out the door with a wink and a ‘see you later’.

He did not see footage of Richard on the television despite the number of news anchors covering the accident. Given that the site of the accident is still being considered an active crime scene, the GCPD had yet to release the names of the people who were involved.

It rankles at something in Damian, to have the truth kept from him.

The itch of violence is thrumming along his fingertips, an old habit he believed himself to have shaken. He feels nothing but anger at the man who had been driving inebriated, for he might have taken Damian’s brother away from him.

He is interrupted from his thoughts as a small beep signals the end of Father’s call, a heavy sigh falling from between his lips as he collects himself. Footsteps approach, and then he is sitting next to Cassandra.

Without looking up, Father says, “Tim?”

“The legal team is ready to hammer the media should any details of the crash be released ahead of schedule.” Timothy’s eyes flicker up for the briefest of moments. “I sent word to Dick’s boss to let her know that he won’t be available for any upcoming shifts.”

“Thank you.”

Timothy nods, and then he is back to work.

“Any idea on the name of the guy that hit him?”

Father looks up at Jason’s words, brows pinching at the dangerous pitch his second eldest’s voice. “Jason-”

“I’m just curious is all.” Jason tosses his head, avoiding eye-contact as he shakes his hair away from his face. “Figures the guy should be taught a lesson if he makes it out alive.”

Cassandra pokes his thigh with her foot. “No killing.”

His silence speaks volumes.

“Jason, are you really sure that’s what Dick would want?” Father asks, and the displeasure in Jason’s face deepens. “He’s going to be fine. Leslie said the surgery is low risk, and his prognosis was looking good.”

“You and I both know shit can still go wrong, prognosis be damned.”

Damian chews at his lip, eyes fixated on the speckled tiles of the flooring.

Father’s hand tightens around the armrest. “If things go south, we’ll figure it out.”

“Bruce.” Timothy looks up, his gaze sharp. “What d’you mean, figure it out?”

Damian remembers seeing it once, the Lazarus pit. Grandfather had only spoken of it in trusted company, and so he rarely mentioned it outside of their private chambers.

Curiosity driving his foolishness, one night Damian had snuck around his home in search of it, using every bit of his training to find the hidden passage. In hindsight, he was likely allowed entry into the sacred chamber, if only for it to serve as a lesson.

The pit smelled of foul magic and the Earth’s waste, steam curling up from its vile, green waters. It was not hard to imagine what being submerged in it would feel like, his imaginations fueled by the rumors he’d heard of Ra’s impending madness.

Thinking now of Richard being subjected to its healing energies, Damian has to work to suppress a churning in his stomach.

The silence that had followed Timothy’s question ends as Father confesses. “I don’t know what I meant, Tim.”

The others glance at one another and seem intent on continuing their line of questioning, but are interrupted when Dr. Thompkins steps into view. She is dressed in scrubs and waits until she has all their attention, her expression neutral in a way that makes her hard to read.

Father must have learned his ‘poker face’ from her.

She takes a breath before speaking. “Mr. Grayson’s surgery went as expected. With no complications, he’s been moved to a private room for recovery. He should be waking up within the hour, but we can only let in a couple of you at a time as per hospital regulation.”

Heads bob as everyone nods, their shoulders losing tension at the good news.

“I’m sure he’ll want someone there when he wakes up, so I can take the first batch in now.” Dr. Thompkins looks between the assembled group. “Bruce?”

Damain tucks himself deeper into the corner, hiding in its scant shadows as best as he can. Father’s attention passes over him, a testament to the drain that Richard’s accident has had on his mental faculties.

Timothy makes the decision for them. “I’ve still got some people to update, and Jason’s seeming a little stabby, so why don’t you take him up first. Get him calmed down with a juice box or something.”

“You’re right, I am feeling a little stabby.” Jason leans over, the murderous glint in his eyes shifting into something more jesting. “Which lung should I aim for, left or right?”

“Just go.”

The pair leave, trailing behind Dr. Thompkins, and Damian is left once again to his thoughts.

He isn’t sure why he hid.

Perhaps a part of him does not wish to see Richard strung up with tubes and wires, but he has seen the man in more dire states. Damian has personally inflicted worse upon him.

Perhaps it is because it was an injury sustained while he was in his civilian persona, no armor or backup nearby to provide protection or extraction.

Perhaps it is simply because the chair he is sitting on is comfortable (it is not).

Regardless, in the ensuing hours whenever Father returns to usher another one of Damian’s siblings to visit Richard, he hides.

Jason loitered around while Cassandra left, and he chose to spend his time pestering Timothy with questions about the accident. When it was Timothy’s turn, Damian’s other two siblings departed to go prepare dinner.

It was when Timothy returned that Father came by to collect Damian. He looks haggard and worn, but the haunted look that he’d worn in the waiting hours had lifted.

“Damian?”

“Yes, Father?”

“Do you want to go visit Dick?” A shadow falls across Damian’s face as his father’s considerable frame blocks out some of the room’s light. “He’s been asking about you. We both thought you’d be the first one through the door.”

“I…”

For all that Damian had despised the waiting, he is feeling unexpectedly afraid of going anywhere.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Father’s voice is gentle, sliding into the register that he uses for children. He does not use it for Damian often, but it never ceases to loosen his tongue.

The trouble lies in articulating what he is grappling with. He feels as if he is teetering atop a bubble, and that any shift will cause his tentative balance to fail or will have the bubble popping beneath him.

Here, he can hide and pretend like Richard is waiting for him at home, not in a hospital room.

“I do not wish to go.”

“What?” Father seems taken aback. “Why?”

Damian swallows, and his throat has to work around something thick that sits in it. “Is Richard going to keep asking after me?”

“I mean, probably, but…” Father straightens as Damian pushes himself off his chair, seeming a little lost. “Wait, hey, Damian-”

“Fine. If Richard wishes to see me, he will get to see me.”

It’s Damian’s intention to stand in his brother’s doorway until he is noticed before leaving once more, negating any chance for words to be spoken. That way, Richard will know that he has done wrong by worrying everybody, and there will be no need for explanations.

It’s Damian’s intention to leave as soon as he can, but upon reaching his brother’s doorway, he finds himself rooted to the spot.

He feels surprised that there is only a single, small bruise marring Richard’s face, a treated laceration sitting at its centre. There is a bandage stretching across his shoulder, just barely visible from beneath his hospital gown, and one of his arms is in a cast.

There aren’t many wires hooked up to him, only the standard monitoring devices. An IV is feeding fluids into his body, but given his wakefulness, he should not need it for long.

With a small shift of his head, Richard looks at Damian, and smiles.

The lump that Damian had felt in his throat balloons, and the bubble he’d been standing on pops. His eyes burn and his vision blurs, the lower line of his lashes brimming with moisture.

Desperately, he holds on to the last of his pride, and refuses to let his tears fall.

“Oh, Damian.” Richard’s uninjured arm reaches out, fingers outstretched towards his youngest brother. “Come here.”

Damian takes a step, and then another.

Before his brain can catch up to his body, he’s in Richard’s hold. He presses his face into the older man’s chest, feeling the thump of his heart against his ear as he quietly trembles.

“I’m okay. We’re okay.” Richard’s palm settles atop Damian’s head, and he brushes through his hair gently. “I just got a little banged up, is all.”

Blinking rapidly, Damian tries to dispel the last of his worry. He should feel better now that he’s heard Richard’s voice, now that he’s seen he’s okay.

Yet, he can’t stop thinking of what could have gone wrong. What he could’ve lost.

“I’ll be back in blue in no time.” Richard’s hand slips onto Damian’s back, where he rubs soothing circles. “Besides, all the blood stayed inside where it’s supposed to be.”

“That is not funny.” Lifting his head, Damian levels a weak glare at his sibling. “Blood is not meant to leak into the chest cavity, Grayson.”

“Ouch, last name alert.”

“Silence.” Damian’s irritation is quick to fade, and he is left looking up at the soft expression of his hero. “I… I am glad that you are awake.”

A kiss is placed upon Damian’s forehead, and it’s that touch that has a tear spilling onto his cheek. “Me too.”

[daemadness]

Hi! Now I don’t really know what has gotten into me but I’ve kind of jumpstarted a Die Ärzte hyperfixation about a year ago and have been eating up all DÄ related material I could find.

Now that means that I have also dived *deep* into the fandom. And by deep I mean: no content was too unhinged, no hurdle too absurd, no taboo too taboo (*coughs in ancient livejournal FuB fanfic groups and the cursed explicit fanart on animexx*).

There is just one major problem: being “only” 20 years old, even though I am a native German speaker, most of the interesting “secret” fandom lore is or has become unavailable to me.

I have had small joys like finding out I could still read the old Prawda magazines online for example, but with the DÄ board tragically having been shut down last year and a lot of links on livejournal with “new photos” or interviews leading to long since defunct websites, it’s a little hard to keep an overview.

So far that has not caused too much of a hinderance though. I can still sleep pretty soundly at night even with the for example tons of potential photos I might have missed out on seeing (despite the fact that it is tragic to me don’t get me wrong).

Now there is one (1) exception though that has been driving me I N S A N E for about a month now, because no matter where I searched I could find zero information on it and I’ve never had this happen to me before.

I skimmed most of the Meerschweinchen and Das Buch Ä (I have ADHD too, so reading long texts is kinda hard for me) but as far as I saw it, neither of them mentioned anything about that either.

Now this is where you come into play! *affectionatly points at you* Most DÄ fan accounts I know have been around for maybe 1 to 5 years max, but YOU are what I would call one of the few remaining monoliths of the ever so strong fandom “elders” (I mean this with the deepest affection from the bottom of my heart, I hope you don’t misunderstand me)

Anyways, I’m sorry, I keep babbling on and on, let me not waste your time any further:

On Livejournal there was one user who in 2008 made a funny little adorable fan comic on Bela’s well interesting behavior on stage with Los Helmstedt and Wayne in particular and how she found it unacceptable as “Farin is obviously his true love”. It was obviously just a very silly, adorable fan comic that I feel like many fangirls could and can relate too, BUT, the thing that caught me off guard was ONE LINE in one specific panel in particular, where the author’s self-insert curses Farin out. And that was (see attached image 1):

“UND DU! Ich werde dir nie verzeihen das du 95 gekniffen hast, als Bela dich küssen wollte!”

So I legitimately sat there in silence with my mouth agape wondering if I had just read that correctly. Don’t get me wrong, I of course know that FuB have kissed on stage multiple times before, but the way she phrased that instance in particular somehow made me get 100% more intrigued and excited because WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! And afterwards the author bickered with some other fangirls in the comments of her comic and THEY ALL SEEMED TO KNOW WHAT INSTANCE SHE WAS REFERRING TO, BUT NO ONE GAVE ANY ADDITIONAL CONTEXT (see attached image 2)

Now Mädness, you don’t know me, but I live in Germany, it is 1:13 am as I am writing this, tomorrow I have a free day from Uni, I have a stubborn tendency to want to know everything about my hyperfixations and I am angrily staring at the ceiling because no amount of google research can solve this mystery for me; so to quote the first Star Wars movie “You are my only hope!”. Please within your magnificent knowledge of this band and its fandom culture, can you explain to me what that thing was all about/what the story behind it is?

In any case, thank you for taking the time to read this rant whenever it may find you. Remember, Rod loves you <3

Heyyyy, thanks for the ask and kind words! I'm always happy to help, and you have DEFINITELY come to the right place! :D Even tho I don't feel particularly like a fandom elder - true that I have been here since 2009, but I literally have been here "only" since 2009 because I'm not from any of the German-speaking countries, so I didn't hear about them until that late. But I am definitely aiming to be like, the fandom archivist (or one of them), would love to found a website where I could just post printed interviews (I managed to save majority of them to my files before dä Archiv went down for good a couple of years ago), photos and link and keep a list of video interviews. I have already quite many reuploaded videos on my youtube channel because I started hoarding the videos, which was A REALLY GOOD DECISION because now I already have so many videos that otherwise would have become lost media.

Okay now to what your ask is actually all about: I am 100% certain that they are referring to the Absolut Live from 1995, where during Zu spät, Bela walked to Farin and tried to kiss him, and for a moment it looked like Farin was going to let him do so too, but then suddenly realized what was going on, started laughing and then this happened:

I keep going back to video regularly, trying to analyze it and see if I have missed something the last time, but haven't gathered anything new recently. To me it looks like Bela's mic touched Farin's face and it suddenly hit him that Bela wasn't aiming for a normal kiss-on-the-cheek but something else. Especially back then he used to shy out quite easily even around Bela if something like that happened, and he in general always does this self-defence laugh which happens in this video as well :D

Also oh well, LiveJournal days were something else. That's where I started, I don't think the english-speaking dä slash community is accessable to anyone who didn't join it back then as it's been dead for over a decade now. I still have my access there and it's such a goldmine, so much so I wish I knew how to archive every single post there (at least those that are not other people's fanfics) without having to manually browse through and copypaste the contents of everything myself. There's posts starting from like 2005 or something so there's A LOT OF STUFF, even if most links are dead and broken by now. And thanata-phaemo was the best artist! They definitely inspired me with my own drawings a lot, they did lots and lots of FUB fanart (some of that might still be up on Deviantart) and I remember always looking at those drawings and wishing that I could draw like they do, cos I had so many interesting and fluffy FUB scenarios in my head that I did not know how to translate into visual form. Nowadays I can somewhat do that, but still not perfectly as it would require an art style I have been trying to build for years but which is still today impossible for me to do.

But yeah, I hope this answered your question! I know the feel when there is something in written form and it creates all kinds of images in one's head, and you're just dying to know what it REALLY was about. Sometimes it actually sounds better than what was reality. I remember years ago finding a post on that said dä slash community on LJ, it was someone asking if anyone remembered how "Bela and Farin made out on TV in 2003 or so?" and that and all the comments made it sound like it was something different than what's usual them. For years I have kept searching for this video and wishing that it would pop up, and I think that last year it actually did. Tho, it was way more chill which is normal and you can't really see much, but it was still quite an interesting find and immediately made me feel like my search has ended, and I have finally come across this interview people talked about and which has been haunting me for 15 years. It's a nice feeling. (And if you're curious about the clip, I included it in my latest FUB video, which is on my youtube but also linked on a post here and tagged under FUB! :D)

[freckle-face-ace]

Portgas D Ace X CisFem Reader

6

You pulled into the short paved driveway leading up to a small red brick home. Grace appeared wrapped in a robe on the front porch to greet you.

"Sorry for troubling you in the middle of the night." She rubbed her hands together to warm them.

Was it the middle of the night? You hadn't checked in your haste.

"Its fine." You tried to calm yourself stepping up to meet her.

She guided you into the cozy home where Thatch emerged from the hallway a deep worried frown etched into his handsome face.

"He seems to have calmed down a bit, but he's asking for you." He murmured sounding a bit dejected.

You sighed and nodded with the confirmation that he was alright.

"This way." Grace instructed taking you to the spare bedroom and lightly knocked on the door, "Ace, F/N is here."

"Come in." His voice was barely a whisper.

You turned the knob, foreign feelings bubbling through your chest. Normally you avoided human contact if at all possible, but something drew you to Ace. You felt like you needed to protect him.

Slipping over the threshold you stepped out of your boots and shrugged out of your hoodie quietly making your way to the bed to peel the blankets back.

The raven flinched still a bit shaky from his episode. His garnet orbs glossed over as he searched your face before letting out a short sigh of relief. You crawled into the small bed shifting to pull him into your chest. Once his left ear was pressed firmly above your right breast your entire body relaxed. You released a breath not realizing just how tense you'd been.

Ace broke the silence while your fingers made their way into his messy waves.

"Sorry."

"For what?" You whispered nonchalantly.

"I thought I'd be fine." He murmured a little disappointed in himself.

"And you are." You breathed, "Don't worry about it."

Both of you just huddled together soothing each other's anxieties. Suddenly a chuckle rumbled through Ace's chest.

"What's funny?" You questioned still twisting his hair around your index finger.

"You missed me." He muttered.

"Says who?" You shifted beneath him causing him to rise above you.

"You didn't bother to change your clothes." He pointed at the shirt you'd warn out to eat and you did in fact, still have your jeans on.

"I could have just changed before I left." You lifted a brow.

"But you didn't." He poked your nose before cuddling back into your side, "I bet you didn't even eat."

Your breath caught in your throat picturing the to-go box in the fridge. You'd have to get rid of it before he saw it.

"You don't know what you're talking about." You huffed letting your hands get back to work twisting his hair.

"...F/N?"

"Yeah?"

He paused for a beat searching for words, "Why do you think this is so comfortable?"

"I hadn't thought to question it." You shrugged.

It was an honest enough response. You always did what you wanted; even as a child it was difficult to have you complete a task you had no interest in. Most people, especially teachers found you to be finicky and stubborn. However, the things you were interested in got your full undivided attention. Any task you had true passion for reaped the greatest results. And you usually threw yourself in head first without a second thought. This situation wasn't any different.

"I just... never needed this kind of comfort to sleep before." He said in a hushed tone.

"Me either." You replied softly.

"You never slept before." He chuckled.

"Shut up." You smirked.

This wasn't the first time you'd heard him laugh. He usually did while wrestling with Kuma in the living room. This time is just sounded different, musical somehow? It pulled a rare smile across your lips.

Thatch crossed his arms turning to Grace as they listened to your banter from the hallway.

"Why do you look so concerned?" She caressed the scar on his temple.

"He hasn't even been here a week and he's so attached to her he has panic attacks?"

"That may not be the trigger." She slowly tugged him away from the door, "He left your world in a very traumatic way and she found him the moment he crossed over. He probably just subconsciously associates her presence as something comforting."

"It just seemed a little intense." He pouted running a hand through his now messy brunette locks.

"Such a sweet big brother he has." Grace cooed.

Thatch offered a lopsided smile. He didn't think he'd get a chance to play that role again.

"It is too soon for him to be so attached though..." He commented following Grace into their room.

"Hypocrite." She pressed her lips to his and removed her robe.

You woke up freezing curled up into yourself on the edge of the mattress. Stretching you rolled over to face Ace who was comfortably burritoed into the comforter you had been sharing. He snored loudly, mouth gaping open, drool pooling on the top sheet beneath him. Letting another shiver rack down your spine you jammed your freezing hands into the blanket groping at his shirtless back.

"Wah!" He gasped swatting at you, "What the hell F/N?"

"Shut up." You whispered followed by laughter, "It's still early. You'll wake everyone up."

"You'll wake everyone up. What's your problem?" His brows knit and fell as he watched you laugh and tug the blankets away from him.

"You don't know how to share." You feigned a pout.

"I am a pirate." He smirked, "I don't have to share."

"I'm sure that's a lie." Your chuckles died down as you snuggled into the warm covers.

He watched your expression change.

"So, do you want to stay here?" You cursed yourself inwardly for coming off so bluntly.

His still sleepy eyes widened a fraction. Were you planning on dumping him here? After he just got used to your house and very clearly couldn't sleep through the night alone.

How were you going to cope if he wanted to stay with Thatch and Grace? When did you need his presence so bad?

"Maybe..." He started.

A knot formed in your throat. Why did you even ask?

"Just for the day though. I'm coming home with you." His gaze shifted to the wall behind you, "If I'm still welcome."

"Of course. Idiot." 

[barkers-art]

I thought it would be fun to design some Paradox Pokemon based off the weird futuristic animals from the old docufiction miniseries The Future Is Wild. For those who don't know, TFIW is basically a speculative biology fanfiction that predicts what Earth's animals and ecosystems would look like millions of years from now. It's kinda silly, but I always thought that the animals in that series had some cool designs, so I thought it would be fun to make some futuristic Pokemon based off of them. :D (I might make some more after this, but I'm not sure yet.)

More info is below the cut.

Tundra Hunter (based off of the Snowstalker)

Type: Ice/Dark

Ability: Snow Cloak/Slush Rush (Hidden Ability)

Dex Entry 1: A descendant of Zangoose, this Pokemon has adapted to hunting in winter ice and snow in the far future. It is the apex predator of its natural environment.

Dex Entry 2: This descendant of Zangoose hunts in arctic tundra in the far future. Its thick, white coat provides it with camouflage in blizzards and winter storms.

Tundra Furball (based off of the Shagrat)

Type: Ice/Normal

Ability: Oblivious/Fur Coat/Thick Fat (Hidden Ability)

Dex Entry 1: A descendant of Pawmot, this Pokemon travels across futuristic tundra in search of grasses and cold-adapted shrubs to graze on. Its natural predator is the Tundra Hunter.

Dex Entry 2: This descendant of Pawmot has adapted to living in cold tundra in the far future. These Pokemon are very social and live in herds consisting of twelve or more individuals.

Running Razor (based off of the Carakiller)

Type: Fighting

Ability: Keen Eye/Run Away/Speed Boost (Hidden Ability)

Dex Entry 1: A descendant of Braviary, this Pokemon has given up flying to become a highly efficient grasslands predator. Its crest of feathers are used for communicating with others while hunting.

Dex Entry 2: This descendant of Braviary has given up flying to adapt to a grasslands lifestyle, its wings developing into clawed forelimbs. It is one of the top predators of its natural environment.

Blubber Wing (based off of the Gannetwhale)

Type: Water/Ice

Ability: Thick Fat/Ice Body (Hidden Ability)

Dex Entry 1: A descendant of Cramorant, this flightless bird Pokemon has adapted to a semiaquatic lifestyle and spends most of its time hunting for food in the sea. They live in tightly-knit family groups and are very protective of their young and their eggs.

Dex Entry 2: This descendant of Cramorant hast given up flying to adapt to a semiaquatic lifestyle in the far future. They are ungainly and clumsy on land, but swift predators in the water.

[krazycat6167]

So @cokowiii made a rise tmnt au called Spirits Reborn and I fell in love with it. Others had been making some really cool art of their ocs/sona in the world and I got thinking. It’s been in my head for some days and slowly evolved into a small Donnie-centric snippet that I will be putting under the cut (along with art of the sona remade for the au). Enjoy :D

~~~

Alright, Donnie’s lost. He’ll admit it. Nothing about this part of the forest is at all familiar. He is positive that he’s never seen that tree before. It’d be hard to forget, the trunk is short and thick with many knobs while the roots look like a tangled mess before they sink into the ground. (Actually, now that Donnie’s really looking at it, he’s not sure about the tree’s species. He had thought it was a type of oak, but now he’s not so sure. Could it be that he has discovered a new tree? Oh, he needs to document all of its characteristics so he can compare them against the trees in his encyclopedia! Oh, it would be so cool if- no wait, task at hand.) 

He’s lost. It’s fine though. The others knew he went to the forest today. Once they notice that he hasn’t returned yet, they’ll know where to search for him. 

He just had to wait in the meantime. 

…And maybe document this tree while he was at it. 

However, even his extensive data collection can only take so much time. Eventually he finds himself sitting on some of the tree's roots and staring at the dirt between his feet. 

It’s evening now. The sun will set and it will be night and he will still be lost. Logically he knows his absence would be only worrying enough for a search by the morning at the earliest. So until then, he’s on his own. In the spirit filled forest. All night. 

He wasn’t panicking. He wasn’t scared. No, no! He was-!

“Would you like some help?”

Donnie let out a (very manly thank you very much) shriek as he scrambles a few steps away from the sudden voice, turns to face it, trips over his own feet in his haste and lands on his butt. 

There, standing amongst the roots, was a spirit (or yokai? Donnie wasn’t too sure where the line was with that) he hadn’t seen before. Their head was made of blue fire with a pair of solid white eyes that stared down at him. They wore a poncho that went past their knees. It had a gradient that went from magenta to orange to a pale yellow on the bottom. They held a wooden staff, topped with a crook, that had an old, kinda mossy lantern attached to the end. The fire inside burned blue as well. In the air around them burned two more blue flames the same size as the one in the lantern. 

“Sorry.” Their eyes scrunch up in apparent apology. “I thought you heard me walk up.” 

Donnie stares dumbly at the spirit (he was going to go with spirit for now) as his heart beats like a marching band percussionist showing off. He placed a hand over his chest and took a deep breath. “I didn’t.” He said in reply to the spirit. “And what did you mean by help?”

“You’re lost.” They walked out from the tree's roots. “I help those who are lost. I can lead you to what you want or what you need.”

The ‘or’ in that statement caught Donnie’s attention. “Wouldn’t those two be the same thing in this situation? I want to get out of this forest and back home. I need to get home or I will die.”

The fire spirit shakes their head. “No, what is wanted and what is needed are not the same. Often, what is needed is more uncomfortable but helps with what is wanted in the long run.”

“Explain that to me.” Oh, that came out more demanding than he had intended. 

The spirit didn’t look offended, thankfully. “Think of it like you’re staying up later than usual to work on a project. You want to work on it because you need the thing. However, you need to sleep. You don’t want to sleep because you’re in the groove of things and stopping in the middle of a groove is hard and annoying. It helps in the long run though, since getting sleep rests your body and mind, resulting in a product that may have taken longer, but is now of higher quality. It just depends on what you feel you need to prioritize at the moment; quality or speed.”

Donnie taps a finger to his chin. “I think I get it? I know what I want, I want to get back, however, what is this thing that I supposedly need?”

The spirit shrugs, “I’m not sure, I just know the paths to take you there.”

“Hm, frustrating. Can you point out the direction my want is in.”

The spirit lifts the hands not holding their staff and points to Donnie’s left, and slightly behind. 

So that’s the way out, but Donnie is curious now. “Okay, okay, and where is my “need”?”

They point to the right, deeper into the forest and away from home. 

Donnie’s tempted. 

Logically, Donnie knows he can’t. He has too many projects, responsibilities, and people relying on him and his work. He can’t drop it all now. He’s busy.

He hesitates. He’s madly curious. His want is to go home, and his “need” leads away from it, but according to the spirit’s analogy, whatever the “need” is, it’s supposed to better the quality of the want. What could possibly be deep in the forest that can increase the quality of home? A deep, yearning part of him wants to find out. To follow the spirit deeper into the foliage to find this thing that’s apparently missing from his home. He knows that if he wasn’t so important to multiple projects, even just one or two projects less, he would give into his curiosity and (surprisingly deep) yearning. 

“As tempted as I am, I need- I have to go back.” 

The spirit nods. “Come along then.” They start walking in the direction of the want they had pointed out earlier. The floating fires seem to playfully dance around each other as they follow. 

Donnie jogs to catch up. The spirit shifts in their path slightly so they are walking side by side. 

After walking for a few minutes in silence, Donnie’s curiosity rises again. “May I ask you a few questions?”

“Certainly, go on ahead.”

“How is it that you know where to lead people but not what you’re leading them to?”

“Simple. I am the spirit of journeys, pathways, the lost. I am the guiding light. I wander the spaces in between the beginning and the destination. I travel the roads and footpaths. I come to those who call or to those who need the help.”

So he was right in his spirit assumption (and now has a few things to look up. Has this spirit guide been told of before? Did they appear in any local folklore or stories?). 

“What’s with the..” Donnie’s gestures to the two flames, one chasing the other as they quickly wind through the air in front of them. “…Fire. Things.”

The spirit laughs. “They’re sprites. They’ve decided I was cool and have tied themselves to me.” She gestures to the two sprites. “They’re called Sparks, Ember,” they then gesture to the fire in the lamp, “and Blaze.”

Donnie stares. “Why is this one contained?”

The spirit chuckles. “They like to feel important. They take turns. Sparks is next. Sometimes I do have to use it for time out, but it rarely comes to that.”

“Huh.”

Another stretch of silence. Donnie watches Sparks and Ember as he turns over the information he’s gotten so far. 

“Has there been anyone who’s want and need where one and the same?”

The spirit hums. “There’s been a lot where they were at the same place, but only only a handful have had it be the same. It’s quite rare.”

Donnie guesses that, at most, there have been five such individuals, seeing as that was how many fingers the spirit had per hand. 

“When you said you were the spirit of the lost, do you just mean physically lost or does that count in the metaphorical sense as well?”

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes? Why sometimes?”

“It’s hard for someone to be truly so lost metaphorically that I’m needed to help guide them. They usually have some sort of direction or someone in their life who wants to help. Besides, some people who are lost in that way won’t accept any help. Ultimately it’s a choice on their part whether or not they want to be led.”

“So I could leave right now and you wouldn’t stop me?”

“I would warn you of the dangers, point you where you wish to go, but no, I wouldn’t stop you. I can’t help those who don’t wish to be helped.”

The sun has set by now. Their path being illuminated by the light of the spirit and the sprites. Donnie notes that the trees around them have been getting thinner, so definitely getting closer to the forest’s edge. 

Donnie tries not to look too deeply into the foliage. The deep darkness of the space outside the spirit’s light doing nothing to help his classic overthinking tendencies. Anything could be just out of sight. 

Donnie needs a distraction. He clears his throat. “So, uh, would the lost include, like, lost souls? The dead who can’t move on and all that jazz.”

The spirit's eyes crinkle in amusement. “No, I am no reaper. I do not guide the dead.”

“Coooool, cool, cool. So there’s no chance that I’m actually dead and this is a journey towards accepting that and moving on.”

“You are very much alive.”

“Alright, um, if someone had chosen their want or their need and changed their mind, would you guide them to their new choice?”

“Yes. Are you doubting your choice?”

“Oh no!” Donnie is quick to reassure. “No no no noooo no. Not doubting at all, nope. There’s definitely not an inexplicable yearning in my chest to turn around and go deeper into the forest. None at all! Just- was just curious is all.”

The spirit hums in acknowledgment. 

Donnie looks to the side and taps his pointer fingers together. He’s fine, he’s goooood, he’s great even. Definitely told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. 

Yep. 

…sheesh, how deep into the forest did he wander?

The spirit breaks the silence. “What's your name?”

Ah, they hadn’t done introductions. “I have many names. Othelo Von Ryan, Donatello, Don, Donnie, The Smartest Man Alive, just to list a few.” Donnie says. “And what of yourself?”

“I have been called many things. Wisp, Guide, Wanderer, The Pathwalker, Omen. Call me whatever you like.”

“Were you a good omen or a bad omen?”

“Depends on the people.”

“Right.” Donnie looks ahead. Sparks and Ember chase each other along the ground now instead of in the air. Good news for the forest, nothing is burned in their wake. 

“…Michibiku Hikari.” Donnie says. 

“Hm?” The spirit looks at him. 

He coughs into a fist. “The, uh, name to call you. Michibiku Hikari. It means guiding light. Maybe just Hikari for a nickname.”

The spirit seems to brighten. “Thank you for the name, Donatello. I will treasure it.”

The complete and utter sincerity of the gratitude made Donnie’s face feel hot and his chest near to bursting. He always felt like this when someone truly appreciated his gifts and said so to his face. It’s been a while since he’s felt this though. The high of being honestly appreciated, and just for a name that was a bit on the nose! 

They come to a stop at the tree line. Up ahead a clearing filled with the tents of the temporary base as he and his associates conduct initial surveys of the land. 

“We have arrived where you wanted to go.”

“Amazing.” Donnie whispers. He speaks up and bows to the spirit, “Thank you, Michibiku Hikari, for guiding me home.”

Hikari bows back, “It was my pleasure, Donatello. If you ever want to find what you need, simply call for me. I cannot promise an immediate response, but I will come.”

Thanks given and formalities done, Donnie straightens out, gives one last single nod, and walks to camp. The last Hikari he hears is her softly telling Blaze that it was now Sparks’ turn inside the lantern. 

The night is cold outside of Hikari’s light. Donnie folds his arms tight and speed walks to camp. He looks back once he’s at the edge of the group of tents, but no blue light comes from the forest. 

In his tent, to one side, is a small project he’d been working on. He can feel his hands itching to work on it. 

He goes to bed. In the morning, he pulls out his plant encyclopedia to uncover the species of tree he had found. 

~~~