#I’ve recently taking a liking to old dodges

[hoedamn-eron]

shut up, kid

You awake to your first Mother’s Day with baby Bateman.

Warnings: Nathan is honestly the only warning you need. I suppose some hints of breastfeeding too (a fed baby is a happy baby, whether bottle or breast). Actually proofread for once, but probably still mistakes that I missed. Word count: 750 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

This was written VERY last minute (by last minute, I mean at 9:30pm on Mother's Day in the UK 😂). Anyway, happy Mother’s Day to all the parents out there! 😊 I’ve recently been very broody and very Nathan oriented, so I created this mostly self-indulgent fic (loosely based on this post from a few weeks ago).

I struggle to write Nathan, I feel like I can't get his personalty, or his demeanour right, so please let me know if I can improve anywhere! I want to write more Nathan!

It was the sound of a loud, high-pitched, excited squeal, that woke you up.

“Hey,” came the voice of your boyfriend, sounding distant and muffled as the sweet caress of sleep called back to you. “I know we came to wake up your mom, but that’s not the way to do it. You want to deal with the dragon before she’s had her morning coffee? No? I fuckin’ thought not. Shut up, kid.”

“You shouldn’t swear at your son,” you muttered into your pillow, knowing now that sleep was just a distant memory.

“Ah, shit.”

You grin into the pillow before you look up, your eyes blurrily settling on your boyfriend, who had a mug of coffee in his left hand (in your favourite mug – one you got from a Blue Book convention back when you were in college, long before you met Nathan...Nathan hated it), and his other hand was occupied supporting your seven-month-old son, Silas, who was happily sitting on Nathan’s hip, still in his footsie pyjamas, chewing on his pointer finger. It was sickening how you carried the kid for nine months, and going through a 36-hour labour, sacrificing your body and your boobs (your nipples will never be the same again), for him to look exactly like Nathan.

You still love the bones off him anyway.

“Kid doesn’t know what I’m saying, it’s fine,” Nathan continues, coming over to you and holding out the mug. You take it, smiling up at Nathan as he leans down to you and presses a kiss against your lips, murmuring a ‘good morning’ to you before he straightens up.

He’s so hot. Even now, he’s just wearing some old sweatpants and a t-shirt (it even has a stain of old baby throw up, which you just couldn’t get out), but it’s the way he’s holding your son...it does things to you.

“Good morning,” you greeted back, taking a sip of your coffee. You nod at Silas as he continued to chew on his finger. “Lost another pacifier?”

“I don’t know what he does with them,” Nathan said, shaking his head, gesturing with now free his hand around the room. “Spend all my fuckin’ spare time trying to find that blue one that he refuses to nap without.”

“Language,” you tell him, take a sip of your coffee.

“Sorry,” he says, almost on autopilot. “I’ll request more for the chopper next week. Think 50 will be enough? Obviously fuckin’ not, he’ll lose them all within a week.”

You laugh as you shake your head at him before looking at Silas. “Is your dada silly?” you ask him in your most annoying baby voice.

The kid loves it. He smiles widely at you and kicks his legs in excitement.

“Anyway,” Nathan says, adjusting Silas in his grip as he looked back at you, evidently choosing to ignore your comment to your son. “Happy Mother’s Day, or whatever. I made you breakfast, your favourite. The kid had some, he loved it, so now we’ll probably have to make it for him every day. I’ll run you a bath and by the time you’re finished it should be ready. While you’re being a lazy ass in the tub and skirting your duties as a mother - “

You go to swat Nathan on the thigh, but he dodges you swiftly and carries on like he was never interrupted.

“Me and this one,” he nods to Silas. “Will work on some tummy time, see if we can start crawling today.”

“Not all kids start crawling at seven months.”

“Not all kids are mine.”

“Debatable, regarding all the sex you were having before we met.”

“You’re reaping all the benefits from ‘all that sex’.”

“You pig.”

“You love me.”

You do. God, you do. So much. But you’re not going to tell him that.

You take a gulp of your coffee, hiding your smile.

“Get your pretty ass out of bed,” Nathan said, already turning away from you, grabbing Silas around the tummy and tossing him lightly in the air and catching him, causing Silas to laugh that cute baby giggle he has that melts your heart. “Come and celebrate your first Mother’s Day.”

He leaves the room, and you laugh to yourself as you distinctly hear the sound of Nathan giving Silas a raspberry on his belly as he walks down the corridor, the squealing sound of laughter from your son following right after.

It sends a warm feeling of joy and happiness through you.

[howlsofter]

“You want this. You were just begging for it.”

Boyfriend!JohnWick gets tired of his bratty gf

quick one shot, smut, soft dom John wick

2.7k words

I don’t get to see him too often. Likely way more than the average person, but not as much as I’d like. Before, we both had our respective contracts, but I’ve been staying lowkey recently. I have more than enough money saved up, and as long as I’m not summoned by the boss I try to stay out of side work. For now.

It’s dangerous having John around, I know, but I can’t help it. I just want to see him so bad, and he wants to too or he wouldn’t keep coming back.

He arrived the night before, unexpectedly. I knew it was him from the peep hole. He was looked exhausted, waiting stiff in my living room as I air fried him frozen taquitos. It takes him awhile to decompress, to crack through John the assassin. I nudge at his foot under the table as he eats, peering out the window of my tiny kitchen. He leans back when he’s finished, looking to me for the first time since he’s sat. His eyes sink under the table, registering my comfortable look. He’s seen me like this before, old black sweatpants, a tshirt, some fuzzy socks. I need to buy him a comfy outfit.

“Yummy?” I ask, he moves under the table, trapping my feet between his dark leather shoes.

“Delicious,” he gives me the satisfaction of a response. I tap my short nails against the table top before reaching out for my water.

“Are you hurt?” He kinda shrugs, finally pushing off his heavy jacket. Seemingly unscathed, uncommon but good news. He straightened out his shoulders and relaxed back against the kitchen chair.

Getting undressed for the night, I slide off my sweatpants, watching John undo his shirt.

“Is it hard dealing with the fact that I’m stronger than you now?” I tease him, breaking the silence. I was used to it by now, but I’m not scared of breaking it with John, he he doesn’t want to engage he simply won’t.

“Maybe it would be, if you were,” he responds, turning his head to the side as he speaks but not looking at me.

“Don’t lie to yourself, John,” I say as earnest as possible. John doesn’t reply, sliding off his shirt and kicking off his shoes.

He crawls up on the bed, still wearing his slacks. He reaches out to grab me and I dodge him, sliding over and squealing. He moves quicker, getting a hold of my thigh and easily wrapping his large hand around it. He drags me over so swiftly, I almost don’t feel it.

I start to dodge him again as he goes for my arms, I go for his as well. I catch his left wrist but he twists out of my grip and catches my right hand. It knocks me off guard and he’s already disarmed my left, pinning my arms above me on the bed with one hand, his other holding down my hips.

I shift around and try to release my hands, but I can only get him to give a few inches before he’s pushing them back further into the memory foam.

“Oh, you’re so much stronger than me?” He teases now, pushing his body weight into me. I sink back farther, continuing to struggle. The more I do, the weaker I feel. He’s been watching me fight him the whole time, a small smirk shadowing his lips. “Say it. Say I’m stronger.”

I shake my head no, closing my eyes so his can’t stare into my soul. He tsks, exposed skin warm up against my torso, his jeans rough against my thighs. He uses his thigh to push my legs apart but I fight him.

With the hand he had against my hips he reaches down, his body weight holding me in place enough. Using his leg and his hand he continued to try to force them open, but my thigh strength is surprisingly stronger than my arm. With no luck, he sinks into my neck, pressing a kiss there before he’s biting me.

I whine out in surprise, pleasure and pain, going weak under him for just long enough for John to invade.

He slid between my unclothed legs, pressing his crotch right up against me. “Not going to say it?” He asks again, I shake my head again, eyes still closed. John catches my jaw with his hand, making me look at him. I blink back in shock.

“I know you were teasing anyways,” his hold on my chin loosens, stroking the soft skin connected to my neck with his fingers, “instead, tell me how bad you want me right now.”

I smile a little, because I want to tell him. But something inside me begs for me to disobey. “I don’t,” I argue, responding to quick to think it through. John actually chuckled a little, but I could tell I was starting to actually piss him off.

He grinds against me, running his hand up under my shirt and over my ribs.

“You’re such a fucking liar,” he hisses, the zipper of his jeans pressed against me, the friction rubbing just right. He massages my skin under his hand, continuing the motions as I mewled and arched to feel him.

He pulls away suddenly, releasing my hands and sitting up, unpinning me from the bed. “Fine, if you dont want it…”

I reach up to grab him quickly, one hand on his upper arm and the other on his belt loop, pulling him back into position.

“Who said I didn’t?” I ask, he reaches down to jeans.

“You.” He scoffs, “tell me you do then,” he undoes the zipper and slips them past his thighs without breaking eye contact, kicking them off. He still refused to touch me, hovering, waiting.

I whine first, thrashing in a mini tantrum before I laid flat, “fuck, John…”

It’s so hard to just admit it, even when it’s painfully obvious, “please, please fuck me. I want it so bad,” I say it quietly, pulling him in closer with my thighs and lifting my hips to press my panties back against his boxers. His cock is so hard, the tip peeking up passed the waistband and pressed against his stomach. It was thicker than most, enough to fill me up completely, it was the length that drove me mad. It left me soar for days after, I could always feel right up in me where John’s cock had pushed the limits.

I hooked onto his hips, rubbing up the length of his cock through the materials, John swallows, still just looking over me in thought.

“Really, baby?” He finally responds, breaking into a soft smile as he coos for me to submit. He catches my hips, his hands taking up most of the space there. I wiggle in his hold just a little, enough to annoy him so he’ll me still.

I clench my jaw, nodding slightly. It’s not enough for John, “beg me more, if you really want it,” he commands in a low voice. I bite my lip and suddenly John is on my neck again. He’s sucking this time, biting but not rough. It feels soooo fucking good I’m whining in seconds, trying to grind against him again but his hands hold me firm. My neck is incredibly sensitive, my pussy throbbing and stomach aching in desire the longer John kissed up. I pushed him away with my arms but his chest doesn’t budge.

“I really want it,” I breathe out, “I really really really want it, please,” John stops biting and lapping and presses a kiss against the spot, sitting up to catch my lips. He releases his grip on me to go for my underwear, pulling them down without hurry. I pull my legs up to help him take them off, his boxers next. I wrap back around him and reach out to touch him, stroking him a few times before he breaks the kiss to swag my hand away. He takes it up to his mouth, pressing my palm there against his lips in a small kiss as he takes his cock.

“Are you going to be good?” He asks me, letting go of my hand and reaching down, sliding his fingers through the folds of my pussy. He slowly rubs the top, small circles over the area of my clit, I hum and shift closer to his touch. He’s never this talkative in real life, he’s told me before he’s trying to savor the moments. He doesn’t get to see me like this in real life, whiny, submissive. I only get like this for him, and he annoys the brat right out of me.

I hate it though, it makes me blush with every command. It’s embarrassing, giving him so much power over me, but when I do he feels so good.

I’m already wet, he lets go of his cock to reach into me. His finger slides in easy as I answer a soft ‘yes’ and moan. He curls up inside me, pressing the finger on my clit with a little more pressure as he reaches up against my gspot repeatedly. It feels so good already, I press down against them, holding my breath.

“Fuck me, please,” I beg him under my breathe, staggering out the words. John doesn’t need to be asked twice. He pulled his fingers from inside of me and wiped them off on his cock, the tip leaking. He strokes himself a few times, looking down over me. I lay almost flat on the bed, using most of my strength to hold my hips up in the air, thigh on either side of John who sat up on his knees. I watch intently as he reaches out for my thigh, helping support me as his other goes to press the tip of his cock in between my folds. He carefully drags his cock against me, not entering me and letting it get slick. It feels good as a start, he moves up to holding my hips, gasping quietly each time he slid against me. When he felt I was ready he took his cock again, slowly pressing the head against my entrance, his other hand steadying and gripping me tighter to make up for the lack of support as he pushed the head into me. I let out a soft cry, it hurts for the moment, he pushed in just enough to where he can slide out and in without pulling completely out. I’m trying my best to hold my hips up, the farther he presses into me, the easier it is for him to continue and the better it feels. He eases in with a few more slow strokes, bending over and pressing open mouth kisses against my collarbones and neck.

He’s almost completely in when I reach my limit, my knees closing up to push him back. I whine and he gives me a moment to recouperait, a hand trying to keep my legs from moving. He continues his slow pace, still inching deeper and deeper into me, I continue to fight with him.

“You want this, you were just begging for it,” he reminds me, pulling out and grabbing my legs, he pins them together by my knee and pushes me back against the bed, my knees together at my side, he uses one hand to hold them down. His other slides over my ass, he guides himself back into me and I stretch out over the bed. As he gets deeper I reach up for him again but he’s already ready to catch my hand, bending over as he hits inside of me.

I suck the air inbetween my teeth quickly, bracing as he pushes farther up against me. He’s stayed so stoic but fully in he groans, his jaw slightly ajar as he continues to fuck me. It hurts so good, each time he ruts up inside of me I ache.

I can’t stop my moans, fighting his hold til he’s gripping me so hard his knuckles are white. He’s gained his composure mostly, I cry into the sheets and he lets go of my hands, brushing my hair back from my neck.

“You’re being so good for me,” he praises, slamming to me again, he’s breathing heavy, his voice almost shaky.

I can’t even respond, nodding as I gasp and swallow, not even making an effort to sit up. “Fucking brat, look at you now,” he slows down, not hitting me quite as deep. Bending over to lick my nipple, sucking on it for a moment before he’s kissing me again. He slowly fucks half into me, holding my hips up for me this time. It feels nice after being used, I look up at him lazily, still on my side.

He separates my legs without any resistance from me, sliding his thump up against my clit. He rubs in careful circles and I close my eyes, focusing on the pleasure.

John is enamored, he can’t rip his eyes from my face, speeding up his motions. The more desperate I get the more cocky he seems, awwing at me as I try to rock with him. “Feel good?” I nod. “Tell me,” he almost growled.

“No,” I joke through my breathing, John snaps into me and I cringe completely. It knocks the breath out of me, “yes~ fuck, it feels so good,” it falls out of me easy as he continues to go slow.

My moans get higher pitch and John speeds up slightly, he nods as I whimper for him, pulling him closer. He kisses me again, sweet and hot. It was sloppy but his lips felt so nice against mine, both of us breathing heavy. He nudges my nose, keeping our faces close as I get closer. My legs and body get shaky, my hold on John’s upper arm tightens and my arm I’d tossed loosely over his neck is now forcing him to stay in my proximity.

My mouth is open, breathing in short gasps and letting out stuttered exhales. I try to keep myself quiet, I have apartment neighbors, but I can’t help my calls for John. He loves them too, each time I repeat his name in a beg, getting closer and closer, John replied back to me with a soft sound like reassurance. I squeeze around his cock and feel him fill everything, John is controlling his own breathing manually.

When I cum I go silent, going stiff as John slows inside of me. His thumb continues in speed, hips carefully pressing as full as he can up in me as I squeezed and spasmed around him. His thumb only lets up when I start to twitch away from him, completely overstimulated. John whispers praises against my neck, kisses me and slowly starts to fuck me again. I mewl in exhaustion, asking him to be careful is just begging for him to be rough, instead I’m watching him. Eyes half lidded, he feels really really good still, but each stroke makes my muscles tight. John’s being sweet to me now, careful solid strokes as he works to pleasure himself. He touches me everywhere and I reach out to touch him back, dragging my hand over his scarred torso.

He’s getting closer when he picks up, sloppier sharper strokes. John kisses me messy before his hand is around my neck. He never grips my neck tight, I’ve told him he can but he refuses, but just the placement makes me feel weak. He holds me down again, “such a good fucking girl,” he mumbles before he’s using me again. I’m too weak to fight the stimulation, throwing my respect for the neighbors out the window as I cried out. John’s hand went from my neck to my mouth, cupping my cheek and forcing his thumb into it. He looks down at me in pleasure, I bite down on it but he doesn’t flinch.

He drops his head, looking down at our bodies meeting before he’s steadied. A few long slow strokes and a sudden inhale and he’s cumming deep inside of me. I can feel it, each twice of his cock more warm cum coated my bruised insides.

John exhales and kisses me a final time before pulling out of me. "I'm going to actually fight you next time."

[dearest-painter]

How much time has passed.. PT.1

Summary: Y/N is tired…they’ve forgotten how long it’s been since they weren’t tired or with their friends…they’ve forgotten how long they’ve been stuck in this spider society that they want nothing to do with. When Y/N says fuck it and helps their old friend out it causes problems with people who wanted them as their child

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship,Reader is Peni Parker,Reader is burnt out and sleep deprived,Reader talks to themselves in a silent tone,very out of character characters,this is a series,Reader fixed their robot,Reader is unwillingly in the spider society and has destroyed her watch with an amount of 8 times,people might be out of character,tell me if I need to add more

PT.2

Yawing as you stretched from your hammock or web hammock, you fixed your tie and cardigan you got down from the hammock. Grabbing your robots suitcase you decided to go to the spider society’s cafeteria as you were hungry. How long have you been asleep? 15 minutes? An hour? A day? Who knows at this point. “Hey little one!” You waved at the spider-people passing you with a half tired and half asleep smile, you didn’t like being here but Miguel forces you to be in the spider society.

You got some food and sat down eating it and drinking coffee. Recently sleep has been more difficult in both waking up and falling asleep, ever since you and your friends parted ways so much things happened. Peter B got a baby, Gwen is best friends with Hobie which is understandable, and Spider-Noir isn’t really seen at spider society. Oh miles your absolute best friend isn’t even allowed to be in spider society for something he never asked at all!

Miguel tried calling your phone but all you did was stare at it, Miguel has been getting more annoying lately and you didn’t wanna deal with it damnit! Getting up you went to your little hideout but once you sat down Mile immediately hide behind the desk in your hideout. You two stared at each other for some time before you started laughing then lunged and hugged him, he hugged you back quickly and tightly. You both started laughing as you rolled around on the ground.

“Mil! Oh my goodness it’s been so long! How’ve you been!?” “I’ve been well! Oh you look so tired are you getting enough sleep N/N?” “Sorta, more problems in my universe and I guess I have insomnia or something but are you hurt at all!?” “No no I just ran away from some crazy people” “oh my god!” He nodded his head he chuckled. You two decided to play some video games as neither of you wanted to take the risk of leaving as everyone was looking for Miguel.

Soon Hobie and Gwen saw you two dancing. “Fuck you stepped on my foot Y/N!” “I told you I got to left feet the fuck did you expect!?” They way you two laughed it was honestly adorable or in Hobie’s eyes it was while in Gwen’s she was jealous as not everyone can make you laugh now a days! “Okay one more time okay!” “Okay but next time you step on my foot Imma throw my damn mask at you” “Pussy” Miles took his mask off and threw it at your face making you laugh. “Oh Hobie, Gwen..Hi” Miles waved and you just nodded your head as you put on Miles’s mask.

“Never knew you could laugh Y/N, you should try it more but I ain’t forcing ya” You chuckled at Hobie’s comment, he always made sure to make everyone comfortable while sticking to his beliefs which you idolize a bit. “Well Miles is sorta my best friend, he knows all the words or pranks to make me laugh” “Hey someone’s gotta do it and I don’t plan on letting anyone take that place!” Miles tried getting his mask off of you but you kept dodging and giggling until it was a full on chase. “Gwen you’ve been quite..why?” “Nothing it’s just…I’m jealous that Miles can make them smile, laugh, or giggle after not seeing them for so long while I’ve tired my best!” Hobie sighed. “Listen, their close. Their basically siblings, their bound will be stronger then other bounds. Nothing people will do or say can break them apart. Seeing each other after so long their bound becomes stronger and tighter…ya feel?”

She didn’t, she was still jealous but sighed and pretended she understood. “Yeah…thanks Hobie” “No probs” the two watch how miles and you play fought with him trying to grab his mask and you giggling while swatting his hands away. It was a cute sight honestly.

[candiedspit]

when I was lucid

Tomas fucked like a girl. 

This was disappointing. I wanted him to wrap his muscles–pink, buoyant muscles–around me until I disappeared. I wanted to make use of my legs. But he mewled like a kitten and hardly touched me. 

Am I hurting you? He asked every few seconds. 

No, I said and said. 

A cigarette was still burning on the nightstand. The sunlight outside waned like a feeling. When he finished, he rolled off of me and I got up to get dressed. 

I’ve gotta go, I said, snagging my coat on. 

And left him with his vapors and dirty skin. 

There was a cab outside waiting for me. Life was like this, one magic act. I yawned and a man offered me champagne. Things appeared. I did my lipstick in the backseat, caught the driver looking at me in the rearview mirror. 

What? I asked, popping my lips. 

He didn’t say anything. I rolled my eyes. He left me at my family’s restaurant where I met the rest of the boogaloos. I entered through the back door, smelling of sex and strawberry perfume. I liked making scenes. Another reason Tomas disappointed me–no bruises to coat with foundation, no angered calls from my brothers. I’m the youngest in our family; the only girl, too. This allows me many advantages. Everyone treats me as though I’m made of glass. 

Where you been, dope? Nick asked. 

I had four older brothers and Nick was the closest to me in age. He had spent his recent twenty fifth birthday in the white gallows of Hawaii, dodging waterfalls. I was twenty years old. It was only the brothers there. Dad was working. I never knew what that meant, though there were hints. All that really mattered was his mood when he came home. Sometimes, he went to his office and drank. Nothing could stir him, his misery like a furnace heating the entire house. Other times, he came home bearing gifts, stories and quick cracks at everyone. He was a laser beam. I take after him in some respects. For example, my beautiful, long nose. And my green, slanted eyes. I’m also a natural depressive. Prone to fits, slamming doors, refusing to eat for days. Once, I told a shrink I feel like as empty as a clock. He told me everybody feels like that. 

Not like me, I told him. Not like me. 

I was with Tomas, I told Nick as I took a seat at the table. 

It was quiet. Robin, Frank and my oldest brother Jonathan fiddled with their fingers, sniffling. I made a face. 

What is this? I asked. A fucking funeral parlor? What’s going on?

Dad lost a bet, Jonathan said. A big one.

Shit, I said. What do we do?

Not you. Nick said. But we’ve got till this evening to get it sorted. 

I was never allowed out on any ventures. This upset me. I could handle anything the boys could. A little blood. A little guts. It didn’t bother me much. I had a strong stomach. 

There’s a cab coming for you, Robin said. Just stay at the house. 

Can’t we play a game first? I asked. I loved beating them at cards, the dimwits. 

No time, Jonathan said. 

I got up and grabbed a soda from the fridge before heading towards the door. 

Be safe, I said. 

Always. 

I never knew what time it was. It was probably around one in the morning when the boys came back with dad. I’d spent the afternoon watching TV with mom while she did my nails. Dad was furious, cursing anyone that came to mind; Mickey Mouse, God, Judy Dame. As Nick slinked upstairs, I caught his arm. His shirt was rimmed with what I knew was blood. 

Are you okay? I asked. 

He nodded. I kissed his cheek and let him go. 

I wasn’t in school. I filled my time with house parties, dungeons, anything that sparkled. That weekend, I was in the basement with Katie-Marie, a girl I’ve known since we were four. I didn’t have many friends. But I had good ones, the ones I had. Katie-Marie was wonderful to be around. I could tell her anything. Most of the time, I complained about Tomas. 

Let go of him, Katie-Marie said. He’s nothing but a pain. Not worth the time. 

I’m compelled, I said. There’s something about him I can’t get enough of. 

Katie-Marie did another line, I followed suit and laid back down on the couch, drank some soda. I often imagined burning my nose off; sulfur and love confessions. I listened to Katie-Marie sing along to some girl pop band until I felt as though someone had thrown me into the electric chair except I was innocent. All of my nerves were on high alert. I fluttered my eyes, seeing the faint image of a lamb on the ceiling. There was a cosmic rhinestone in the very center of my forehead. I could feel every one of my thoughts like arrows shot from the other side. I laughed and laughed, couldn’t tell when I wasn’t laughing. Katie-Marie kissed my cheek. I licked her palm. I began speaking. 

Are we not the damndest? Are we not the ones? I could drink my youth from a shot glass. It’s going to rain. I’m the first horse who realized he can run. And I’m running and I’m never stopping. I’m a cunt. I’m Daddy. He thinks he’s so big, I’m bigger. 

I looked over at Katie-Marie. 

He thinks he’s big but I’m bigger, I said over and over. 

I have this dream, I found myself telling Tomas. That dud, dull sparkler; magic amulet with no power within it. I didn’t like him. How many times could I rap at his door? A shift, I expected him to be someone else every time. The person I loved. And each time, it was only him in his boy shorts, grease king, cigarette burns in the blankets, ashtrays on the carpet, the scent of a life lived far too long. It had been four days since we’d seen each other; I’d spent the time crying, masturbating and crying, punching his number into the phone and then chickening out. He looked at me, rubbed my cheek with his bandaged thumb. 

What do you dream? He asked. 

I’m Christ at the table. And the skies are made of lace, there are gingerbread cookies, rugs made of skin, a thousand diamonds, an itch in my teeth. A cock between my hands. Psalms rising and falling beneath my eyelids. I am the son of God. I am going to be betrayed by the phony who loves me as the wind loves to tickle the trees. I am going to die for you. 

I pointed towards the ceiling. 

But for the moment, I am full of wine, singing drunk. And the colors explode. Someone is speaking. A beautiful woman with her breasts exposed. And I hear the sound of what comes next. I hear the crackle of electricity; lightning bolts, rashes of rain pissing from above. I hear a hundred languages, babbling over one another like threads in a wicker basket, streams of fish. I hear a thumping, a grinding, ecstatic horsepower. I see the black coughs of genocide. I see Americans on the street, hiding from a wall of ash. I see America. 

You’re insane, he said as though astonished. Absolutely insane. 

It was a Tuesday evening. I was at the restaurant with Nick, playing cards. The other boys were upstairs, running dishes, cleaning tables. Outside, I could hear the fantastic drip of rain. I beat Nick at cards for the third time in a row. 

You’re letting me win, I complained. 

He laughed. 

I’m really that bad, he said. That’s the truth. 

It got quiet as I got up to get another soda, one for me and one for him. I cracked open the can and sat back down. Nick was looking at me. 

Julia, he said. 

I looked at him. He never called me by my name. 

 Why don’t you get away from here? You could. Dad would pay for school, somewhere upstate. You could leave all this shit behind. It’s not good for you to be in the periphery of what we do. Why don’t you? 

I looked at his hands, a cross tattooed on his wrist. I loved him like a mother does, like a knife.

Why don't you go fuck yourself? I asked. And said nothing else.

I set up another card game. And let him win.

[xsezzie]

Just A Scratch

Warnings: tickling???

Characters: Neuvillette, Wriothesely, Clorinde (ft Sigewinne at the end)

Wriotheseley has sustained a small injury while messing around in the ring as usual, only Clorinde and Neuvillette won't let it slide.

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Wriothesley winced as he reached for one of his boxes of tea on the shelf. His recent escapades in the ring gifted him a nice bruise on his rib cage. It wasn’t that he lost, but his opening happened to find a great opening to deliver a decent blow to the Duke.

He didn’t want to tell Siegwinne, knowing she would probably try and make him drink one of her deadly milkshakes.

His pain, however, did not go unnoticeable by his guests.

“Wriothesley, have you been sparring with the prisoners again?” Clorinde and Neuvillette were making their rare appearance at Wriothesley’s request for some tea. Well, the invitation was extended to the former, who then managed to convince the Chief Justice to come with her for once.

“Ah, it’s nothing. Just a bruise… ah!” A small pang shot up through his ribs as he happened to twist in an odd motion.

“You aren’t hiding it very well.”

“Shut up, Neuvillette.”

“Woah, you hear that Chief? He just told you to shut up.”

“Hm… very unprofessional, Wriothesley.”

“C’mon! I didn’t mean it in a malicious way!”

The three chuckled amongst themselves as they enjoyed their tea together, well Neuvillette had water as usual.

“But seriously, it’s unlike you to be bothered by such pain, so it must be bad. Get it checked out.” Clorinde frowned.

“No, no. It’s fine really, it’s probably just a bruise.” Wriothesley tried to laugh it off, but was receiving glares from the other two. “Guys… please…”

“Let’s examine him ourselves. He’s going to put up a fight though.” The Duelist smiled, though Wriothesley knew it was one of warning.

“Clorinde is right… Wriothesley you need to take care of your body.”

Clorinde had already stood up and was trying to grab the cryo user by the wrist. The two laughing at each other as they tried to dodge each other around the small table in the Administration Office.

“Please, I’m not an old man like you Neuvillette, I’ve still got a lot of years left in me-AH!”

With a swift motion, Neuvillette caught the Duke off guard as he was attempting to run past him and pulled him onto the sofa.

“Alright, hold him down and I’ll check out his injuries.” Clorinde looked as if she was enjoying this way too much.

“Fuck off!”

“He swore! Send him to court!”

“G-Get off me both of you!”

Neuvillette played his part by holding Wriothesely’s legs down as Clorinde teased him, trying to undo his vest or pull up his shirt.

“Haha! S-Stop! Get off me!”

“Wriothesley, I believe your injuries are no laughing matter.” The Chief Justice chided him gently.

“What are you laughing about? Wait… are you… ticklish~?” Clorinde smirked and softly skittered her long nails across the Duke’s exposed waist.

“Pff- ah! Hehe-stop that! I-I am not ticklish!”

“Neuvillette, I’m going to need you to hold him down more.”

“No no nohohohohoo!!!”

Neuvillette pulled Wriothesley closer to get a better grip on him, whatever this ‘being ticklish’ was seemed to have weakened the Duke, causing him to be easily maneuvered. He held his wrists while the Duelist continued to slowly lift his shirt up and continue to tickle his abs now.

“GAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAP!” Wriothesley wheezed and giggled, a sound neither of them ever heard before, but very amusing.

“Well well, can you imagine if your opponents in the ring found out you were ticklish? You would be losing every match.”

“SHUHUT UUUUP!!”

Clorinde finally managed to get his shirt up enough to see his ribs, he did indeed have a bruise on his left side, it didn’t look broken thankfully.

“Tsk, look at this huge bruise, Chief.”

“Wriothesley, I don’t think a bruise is something to be afraid to seek medical attention about. But seeing as it’s only one side… do you think his ribs can be this ‘ticklish’ thing too?” The faint smile in Neuvillette’s voice didn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

“Why don’t you give it a go? Put your fingers on his ribs and gently squeeze.”

“NOHOHO DONT!!”

“Like this?”

Clorinde held Wriothesley down now as Neuvillette ran his fingers gently over his ribs and gave an adorable attempt at trying to squeeze him.

“Hrrk-pff! Neuvillette your a-attempt suhucks!”

“Don’t be so nervous, make him laugh more. He deserves it.”

The Hydro Dragon hesitantly gave his friends ribs more of a vigorous and fast paced squeezing, sending Wriothesely into hysterics.

“GAHAHAHAA AAAAAHHH!!! NEUVIHIHILEEETTE!!!!”

“Pff- this is… quite amusing…”

Clorinde smiled, seeing Neuvillette come out of his shell a little. She kept a hold on Wriothesely’s arm to help her boss.

The Iudex has a small smile on his face as the Duke squirmed and thrashed about on his lap.

“AAAHAHAHAHA NEUVI- I SWEAR TO CELESTIA I WILL GEHEHEHET YOUUUU!!!”

“Are you sure you want to try and fight me now that I have regained my full power?”

“Was that a tease, boss?”

“I-I… well it was not my intention…”

“HAHAHA GUYS I AM STILL DYIIIHIHIHIIING!!”

“Dying? Who is dying here!?” The three snapped their heads to the stairway, Siegwinne had come in unnoticed due to the commotion. After she saw what was occurring, she smirked.

“Ooohh~ I see you guys discovered how ticklish His Grace is.”

“Siegwinne… shut up…” The Duke warned as he attempted to glare at her through his residual giggles.

“No no, tell us Sigewinne.” Clorinde grinned, knowing exactly where this was going.

“Oh, let me tell you two aaaaaall about Wriothesely’s ticklish spots.”

Any guards that happened to walk past the Administration Office that afternoon could swear they heard some mysterious howling and laughter emanating from behind the closed doors.

[luminous-jade-skies]

在心而在心思

In Heart and In Mind

Foresight 远见 (written as of patch 1.0)

Pairing: Jing Yuan/Vidyadhara! Reader

Content: rated M, complicated relationships, fluff, humour, complicated feelings, potentially older man/younger woman (the situation is complicated), morally grey fic, leaning yandere! Jing Yuan, minors dni

This is really long, like really long. I’ve been writing this for like a week or two (might’ve been two). Also as mentioned in the contents, it’s quite a weird situation (which makes it fun). I don’t recommend minors reading this because (no offence) it takes a bit of discretion. 在心而在心思 may also be a series (not chronological), so if you liked this one, there may be potentially more in the future.

I actually lost my 50/50 to Clara at 85 pulls which pained me greatly to the point where I swore off gacha games for a bit. Then I decided to swipe and got him in around 65. I also pulled for his lightcone and got it in 1 ten pull, so I’ll take that as his apology ahahaha. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

———————————————————————————————————

“Amidst the falling golden light of the Arbor Glowing roots spread across the ship Conflict blooming from its branches, the pale aurora flames.

Where gingko leaves fall and dance in the wind Blood and despair follows Halls of humanity, forgotten in the pride bred from our bones. 

Thus sings our short history Where legends live and never die…”

Your brush draws out the last stroke of the character onto your scroll, the golden paint appearing on the brown reflective surface just in time for you to meet the matching irises of the Divine Foresight. 

“Late. Again.” The scroll is rolled and snapped shut—poem incomplete—and tucked into your bag. Its red tassel hangs out teasingly. “General, after many centuries I expect you to be less tardy.”

He plops down on the stool of the teahouse in front of you, making himself comfortable by crossing his leg and leaning his elbows on the table. “Oh?” He says with playful amusement. He reaches over to pinch your cheek which you immediately dodge. “If you’ve known me for so long, why still call me ‘general,’ hm?”

You huff. “Firstly, you’re my superior, I must address you as such. Secondly, I know you, not in heart, but in mind. If everything written in my past self’s journal is true, then you have hardly changed.”

As soon as Jing Yuan confirms an order of two Immortal’s Delight, he chuckles. “So you’ve finished reading all the journals?”

“Of course not, there’s so much to read! If you told me I was a writer in my past life I wouldn’t be surprised. I just finished reading volume twelve.” You cross your arms. 

“Oh? You’ve finished all twelve already?”

“No, I started from the most recent years. The information seems the most relevant, like recent developments in my job and instructions on how to deal with them. That being said, you’re not keeping anything from me aren’t you?” You eyed him suspiciously. 

He feigned hurt, wincing and throwing a dramatic hand to clutch his heart. “Did your past self write such terrible things about me? I miss when you acted carefreely, especially when you would rush into my arms without care.”

“I’m old enough to not be doing that!” You exclaimed, hiding your face behind your hand in embarrassment. After taking a quick second to compose yourself (wisely covered up with a fed-up groan), you clarify your pointed suspicion in a hushed tone. “The journal mentions how I was supposed to begin working as soon as I reached five years old. I’m fifteen now and I’ve only started.” 

It’s true. You were supposed to start when you were five. If everything had gone according to your past self’s plan, you would master literacy by three and finish most of your studies by five like “how you always did” as you had told him. However, Jing Yuan had different plans. You were catching on quickly that he wasn’t honouring your wishes as you had wanted them exactly. But it would take more deduction and action than merely suspicion to nail him in his sins. 

“If I were as wise as my past self seemed to have been, then I would not trust my reincarnation to solely one person, even if he was the Divine Foresight. It puts me in too much a vulnerable position.”

Jing Yuan sighs, but not of discontent. Returning to his leisurely posture, he stares at you from beneath his lashes lazily, saying. “You’re so cute in your caution.”

If any Outworlders were nearby to witness the mild flirt, they would have shot a concerned look at Jing Yuan. Was this middle-aged man making passive moves on a young girl?! If they tried looking around at other passersby, they would find no such reaction. With one glance at the girl in question, locals would notice the Vidyadhara horns and the red Erudition eye painted on the middle of her forehead, then continue on their day. Afterall, the Sky-Faring Logistics Master could take care of herself. 

The Dozing General always kept alertness just below the shallows of ease. You were a big deal in the Sky-Faring Commision, handling everything that involved the movement of goods of any kind. The seven Luofu Sky-Faring Commision Guilds imported and exported all sorts of products, but you arranged the receiving and releasing of said products. Suffice it to say, without you, the flow of hundred thousands of containers moving through the Luofu would be clashing in a blinding chaos. Much of the laymen didn’t realise that the ever-capable Logistics Master had not been at her post for the past ten years. Merely seeing you led them to assume you were doing your job as usual. As for admin and employees within the Commision… the temporary Master’s term had to be extended with the additional request (read: order) that any concerns were put to rest assuringly. Now, he had been relieved with good compensation and you were put in your proper position, everything would continue as normal.

No harm done.

Jing Yuan’s lips twitched when you scoff at his comment. “Still saying such things?” You say. “Hmph, my past self might have tolerated it, but I won’t. If you like her so much, then show me the same respect!”

“Why not act as casually as I treat you? Even the staff at the Seat call me Jing Yuan.” He leaned forward with a blossoming innocent smile. “You’re already acting so haughty and you’ve only just received your journals, have you forgotten who your official guardian is?”

“I knew it! My previous incarnation was a fool to put me in your hands!” You whined.

Mengming comes over just in time to stop your pouting fest with two refreshingly cold Immortal’s Delight. As you drag the drink closer, the expertly swirled fluffy whipped cream hardly bobs on top of the blended milk tea drink. A tiny hum of approval leaves your now grinning lips. That meant the drink was freshly blended, ice crystals still solid in the ideally near-frozen treat. Sprinkled on top is a generous cluster of brown sugar bits, glistening in what light sneaks into the shaded tea shop, as if the sweet syrupy goodness layered at the bottom of the same ingredient wasn’t enough. It forms a murky fog that swirls cloudily with the liquid, just waiting to be stirred and messed about inside the cup. Hiding amidst the murk are bouncy and chewy pearls, treasures you can’t wait to hunt with the red straw. 

You waste no time taking a big gulp, uncaring of how the freeze travels straight to your brain. A sugary explosion bursts in your mouth, accompanied by the slight bitterness of the tea in the most uplifting manner. Unaware of how the bliss draws happy hum after hum, you chew on the pearls. Your hair sways side to side with your head, hands gripping the drink tightly like the magical treat it was. 

The general takes a sip of his own, and savours the taste with you with closed eyes. Your past self was not here for the drink’s creation, and your go-to refreshment was a personally brewed pot of Whale-Tide Spring tea. Your present self, however, was less interested in the archaic drink and preferred the more modern one. What a shock it was to him when you refused another sip of the tea, letting out a small ‘bleh’ after only the first. In contrast, your love for Immortal’s Delight was as strong as your past love for Whale-Tide Spring (which was saying quite a lot, you always had a porcelain jar full of the leaves). 

Ever since its introduction, Immortal’s Delight has been a hit with the Luofu locals, but especially with you. His original intention was to reintroduce you to your favourite tea, but with how sideways that went, he tried something else. Yes, he received weird looks from others as he ushered a toddler to take a sip of the chilly thick drink, but you loved it in the end so that was that. It was also of great amusement to him how you cried and grabbed for it when he threatened to finish the rest of it. And yes, he gave you an extra sip because you learnt how to ask nicely that day. 

His eyes open to return to your form. Visions of the past overlaid themselves with the present. Past you was elegant, dignified with that slight tinge of whimsy. Present you was excitable, childish, bursting with a starlight that shone from your eyes—something he supposed could be called ‘youthful innocence.’ He wonders if this is what you were like in your younger days… thousands of years ago. You had mentioned how millenia of diligent journaling has maintained your wisdom’s edge no matter how many times you’ve moulted. It’s a well-known fact in the Xianzhou Luofu that the Sky-Faring Logistics Master never changes. Same name, same personality, somehow you’ve managed to create a unique sense of immortality…  

‘I’ll be moulting soon. I must ensure that all my knowledge and character are well-documented for my next reincarnation,’ you told him one day. Back then, he was a young apprentice under Jingliu, helping to move boxes of journals to your new residence. It was sunny that day, and he had just finished another exercise of 10,000 sword strokes, but he was eager to help as soon as he caught a glimpse of you in the distance. He had asked why you kept so many records, refusing to admit his struggle with the weight yet still feeling the strain of them all the same. 

‘Why does your reincarnation need to know all this?’

You tilt your head over your shoulder to smile at him, long horns extending gracefully in an arch against the bright sky. ‘I have been master over the Luofu’s goods flow for longer than you can ever imagine. Whether it be the receiving of commercial goods for residents or sending military supplies to our Cloud Knights, the hand that draws lanes and guides starskiffs must be an experienced one. The history of trade is great and the eyes that witness are the eyes that must be preserved.’ 

You wave a hand lightly at the box he carries. ‘—hence my records.’

He wonders just how much you’ve changed under his care. Letting you develop with hardly any direct influence from your past self must’ve affected you somehow. Not that he wanted you to change, Lan forbid. He loved you dearly, and he’s seen you be reborn over and over. He still dreams of every life you've lived and every moment you shared with him. As a good friend of his parents who worked in the Realm-Keeping Commision, he’s known you even before joining the Cloud Knights. Respect turned into admiration, then adoration, and further still in his adolescent years, a boyish crush which developed into an intimate love (and the lust that accompanies it) that he disguises under a close and familiar friendship. 

Qingzu likes to say ‘when the Sky-Faring Logistics Master steps into the Seat of Divine Foresight, the Dozing General dozes no longer.’ So perhaps he isn’t subtle about his feelings at all. 

Jing Yuan finds himself enjoying you enjoy your drink rather than enjoying the drink itself. You’re adorable, unbearably so. He’s met you in this age before but you’re always trying so hard to maintain your poise that he hasn’t seen you act this way. Really, you’re quite different now. As a kid you would quite literally jump for joy when he bought your favourite food or read you your favourite books. Pouting wasn’t a strange occurrence either. Sometimes he indulges in a little bullying to rile you up, have you stomping all over the place before giving you what you wanted. He watches you happily sip away, practically able to see warmth blossoming around you from joy. 

Your past selves never pouted nor showed excessive joy, and you had grown into it. He had noticed how the pressure to continue the legacy of your first life strained you, whether it be in the tired narrow of your eyes or the hollow sigh you let spill out. You may be the same in biological make-up, but really, you were successors of someone with very high standards and ambition… or were possibly part of a social experiment (he vocalised that joke at some point and you only shrugged, saying you could understand the intrigue which only makes it more plausible). 

The idea that he had ruined you somehow sent excited tingles zipping around in his brain. He had not only yourself in his grasp, but your very personality. When he made the decision to be your guardian, he wasn’t thinking of this indirect consequence. Clutching your bloody egg in his arms, the scene of your head getting cleaved off replaying countlessly in his mind, all he could think about was how he had to protect you and keep you close. 

So now you were his adorable little charge, and in the future, hopefully, his beautiful wife. He’s made sure to keep his hands off you, it was distasteful to even attempt and would dishonour you and your past incarnations. But his feelings were very true and well… you were still you. Regardless of how different you acted. 

“Why are you suddenly looking so happy…” you asked, nudging the empty cup away. “You haven’t touched your drink, if you don’t want it, can I?”

Just as you say that he takes a huge sip of his Immortal’s Delight, causing a considerable amount to disappear. And much to his delight, you frown a little and keep your eyes on him albeit with an unimpressed expression. 

“Now now, no need to make that face,” he mellowly drawls. “I’ve been so distracted by the beauty in front of me that my drink has become watery, how will you compensate?”

“General, I will throw my bag at you!”

He chuckles and continues to languidly sip, watching your face turn red. ‘How satisfying,’ he thinks. Long ago such teasing would only warrant a polite dismissal from you, even if you were blushing. Now he wonders what other expressions he could draw from you…

Two empty cups are left on the table as the both of you leave for a stroll. Jing Yuan had arranged for this lunch break meeting since he hardly sees you anymore. He missed when he could take you with him to his office, it certainly made those boring days go by a lot faster. On days where he’s forced to stay up late signing documents or going over a deployment plan, you’re there sleeping soundly on his lap. It only takes a single glance down to restore his energy. Now that you’re working he only ever gets to see you in the mornings and evenings, not quite enough time. 

There’s a pleasant breeze in the air and civilians are moving about peacefully. He allows himself to be lost in the atmosphere until he hears you mutter something. He looks down at you inquisitively with a small ‘hm?’ and you blink up. 

“Oh! It’s nothing!” You exclaim, waving your hands. “I was just wondering where Yanqing is.”

Yanqing. Your past self has never met him, he took in the boy not long ago and you’ve happily adopted him as your younger brother. The boy is usually at the training grounds with other Cloud Knights or at home studying (that’s what he tells him, but most likely he was distracted 80% of the time). Jing Yuan did ponder over whether to invite the boy, but decided that he could another time. Just like with you in the past, he brought Yanqing with him almost everywhere, but for today he just wanted to be alone with you.

“He said he would be at the training grounds mastering his sword strokes. Why?” Jing Yuan replied. He leans down closer until you can feel his breath ghost over your cheek. “Are you missing your little brother already?”

He pulls away as you jump in place and stumble back, slapping a hand on the afflicted cheek. He chuckles with an innocent expression at your fluster. 

“S-so? I’m just concerned for him! He’s usually with you and as his big sister, I have responsibilities, y-you know!” You sputter. “Don’t get close like that!”

The general quirks an eyebrow and your nervous sweating increases as his smile grows wider. ‘Oh no, what did I say…’

Like you anticipated, he walks closer, backing you up to the railings of the starskiff way. 

“What’s wrong with me being close, hm?” He teases, he’s hovering over you now and you lean further back to create more space between you. “Are you getting shy? Is this why you haven’t been giving me any hugs lately?”

Your head began to spin with how hot your face was getting. The truth was you’ve developed a bit of a crush for your superior. Your caretakers have always told you how attached you were to the general, and that hasn’t really changed until you read your past self’s journal. You wrote a lot about the general, like things he said or memories of older days (with exact journal entry numbers…). Sometimes you wrote descriptions of him with comments sprinkled in and it gave you a larger sense of familiarity beyond Jing Yuan just being your mentor. When you read an entry of a time Jing Yuan flirted (that word was nowhere to be found in the entry, but probably because your past self seemed to lack the recognition prowess for romance. You, who has read countless novels in your spare time, was well-acquainted) with your past self, you had to shut the book and almost threw it from your bed in second-hand embarrassment. 

That was not the only entry to have contained such contents. And for the entire time, your wise past incarnation assumed it was the general’s usual playfulness and your shared closeness. ‘Wise’! What ‘wise’?! How dense could a person possibly be! A man caresses your hair and says sweet words as the sun sets in front of you—how can it be anything but romantic! You had banged your head against your bed frame, going through multiple revelations at once, which alerted Jing Yuan who came into the room and asked ‘is something wrong?’ To which you quickly hid under the covers and shouted ‘nothing!’ as if that was less suspicious than just telling him you read something embarrassing from a novel. 

Anyways, you could never look at the general the same way again. How easy it was to make those memories your own, the way you wrote those entries were very personable. Again, if you were a writer in your past life, you would not be surprised! 

He leaned closely and gently ran his hand through some of my hair. The sun was beginning to set and our tea was cold from our lengthy conversation. It was cooling in the balcony of my flat but with Jing Yuan so close, I could not feel the chill. 

“And yet another day has passed,” he says, clearly referring to the increasing rosiness of the sky. He has not taken his eyes off me. “Many more are to come. But none of them will be as special as those I spend with you. You are more beautiful than any sunset or celestial phenomena.”

I watched curiously as he lifted the lock of hair to his nose and breathed in softly before kissing it. This made me laugh slightly and I waved him off. “Don’t hold me in such high regard, general. If I were to disappear, the rest of your days would become bleak.”

He looked at me seriously, gold irises glinting in the dying light. Somehow, it always manages to freeze me in place. Perhaps because I’m not used to that kind of emotion on him in moments like these. He took my hand and grips it tightly.

He said, “if you disappeared, the sun in my days would never rise again.”

He loved your past self. You don’t know if that sentiment was the same for your other incarnations, but he loved you deeply. When a young girl witnesses such tenderness and intimacy, even secondhand, how can she not develop feelings?! What made it even worse was the biting awareness that the both of you weren’t the same person. Maybe in body, but not in spirit. You seemed so different from her! And it was all because you didn’t start reading the journals early enough. A late bloomer, that’s what you were. Did he still love you the same way? 

“What’s on your mind?” Jing Yuan’s arms trapped you in between them, hands on the rails. “You’re staring so vacantly at me as if you’re thinking about something else.”

That snaps you from the tangled mess of hot wires of your mind. Immediately, you attempt to push him away, glancing nervously at passersby who are beginning to take notice.

“G-general… not here… people are looking…!”

He hums and leans closer, striking gold eyes mere inches away from yours, lips smiling mere fractions away from yours. His white hair falling over your face like a curtain. 

“This won’t do,” he whispers. “I can’t have your attention stolen away from me, can I?”

He takes a hand away from the rails to cup your head, tilting it stiffly so you’re angled to face him properly. ‘A kiss,’ you think dumbly. Was he really going to? Did you want him to? Your mind scrambled to sort the complexities of the situation. Technically, you were younger than him, incredibly so. And you were only fifteen! No matter how you looked at it, this was quite illegal wasn’t it?! You tried so hard to ignore this strange circumstance you found yourself in with the general. If only your past self was smarter about it! That stupid journal!

Just as you begin to feel dizzy and light-headed, Jing Yuan pulls away and pats your shoulder casually. “It’s quite rude for your mind to wander off while having a conversation, try to improve next time,” he says before continuing his stroll, leaving you flushed against the rails.

Upon processing his statement, your cheeks heat up further, no longer from embarrassment, but from anger. 

“As if you don’t do the same! General!” you shout, charging after him with the intent of giving him a good shove. 

Jing Yuan laughs as he accepts your shove, hardly affected. He’s seen enough to ascertain the future of his relationship with this new you—enough to grant him clear foresight. Now all he had to do was play his moves carefully.

In your office, you stare at the poem you were attempting earlier this afternoon. Remembering Jing Yuan turns you red, hastily you scribble down the last line before focusing on the rest of your work.

“Amidst the falling golden light of the Arbor Glowing roots spread across the ship Conflict blooming from its branches, the pale aurora flames.

Where gingko leaves fall and dance in the wind Blood and despair follows Halls of humanity, forgotten in the pride bred from our bones. 

Thus sings our short history Where legends live and never die In heart and in mind.”

[ashisgreedy]

Professor Garreth Weasley x Female!MC

"A Potion Of You"

Tags|Contains: SFW | Fluff | Aged-up Adult chars like 21+ish | Old crushes die hard | Mutual Pining |

Word Count: 3,500 |Ch 2|

Chapter 1

The Three Broomsticks was more crowded than ever. She made her way into the bar, dodging and weaving people as she did. Her eyes scanned the patrons and landed on a familiar face.

“It’s been a while.” Sirona greeted her with a warm smile.

Her shoulders relaxed at the welcome sight. “Yes, it has.” She returned the smile, pulling Sirona into a friendly hug. 

It was warmer inside than it had been out in the cool night air. She welcomed the change of atmosphere, feeling the tip of her nose begin to thaw. 

“I didn’t think I’d see so many old faces in one night.” Sirona walked around the bar and waved her wand at the keg. “First round of butterbeer is on me.”

“Thank you.” She took a seat on the closest empty stool. “You said you saw other familiar faces here already. Do you know where they’ve gone? I’m supposed to be meeting up with some old friends but I’m a bit late.” 

She glanced around again but didn’t see anyone she immediately recognized. She figured everyone she used to know may all look much different anyway. They were older and more mature-looking now that they were proper adults and not children going through a slew of puberty symptoms. Regretfully, it had been years since she had last seen any of her Hogwarts friends. It’s not that she didn’t want to keep in touch. She did. But, her desire for adventure took her farther from the castle than she’d ever imagined. 

Her whole trip to Hogsmeade was a desperate attempt at seeking new opportunities. She wasn’t strapped for cash, but she was growing crazed for something new. The adventures she had as an adult were much less fun than when she was a teen. She grew bored of the humdrum and wondered if it would always be like that. 

When Amit saw her walking around town earlier in the day, she was promptly invited to the bar for drinks. Amit said a few others were in town for the weekend as well and that they should all meet up again for old-time's sake. It piqued her interest, of course. She wondered what everyone else was doing with their lives. She thought she could take some inspiration and find something she was passionate about like Amit had done.

She took a big swig of her butterbeer but she stopped when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Hey, stranger!” Amit greeted. He patted her on the back a couple of times boasting a huge grin. “I’ve been keeping an eye on the door to make sure I didn’t miss your entrance!” He shouted over the growing volume of the crowd.

“It’s good to see you again, Amit! Sorry, I am late. I got caught up chatting with the vendor up the road.” 

Chatting was one way of putting it. Truthfully, she was prying to see if there were any odd jobs she could take. A missing item? A recent troll attack? A possible kidnapping of a precious family pet?? Even if the task was small she was willing to pounce on it, as pathetic as she thought that might be. 

“Not to worry!” He laughed. “Oh! Can we get another round please?” He gestured to Sirona.

Sirona nodded, pointing her wand toward the keg. Amit pointed up the stairs. “Want to come join us? We’re just up the stairs on the first landing!” He swayed as he pointed. 

“Amit, are you sure you don’t need a glass of water or something instead?” She teased, grabbing her things as she stood. 

“OH! Come on! When do you think I will get to celebrate like this again so soon?! It’s good to see some old friends!” 

She followed closely behind him as he ventured back up the stairs. She wasn’t too sure who exactly would be joining them and found herself quite curious suddenly. 

“I want you to know that I had full confidence you would be joining us tonight! Unlike some people...” Amit squinted at Leander in acquisition. 

When he stepped out of the way she was able to see the ragtag group Amit had managed to wrangle. Her eyes scanned left to right waving and smiling at everyone. Her gaze stopped on another familiar face and she froze. 

“H-hey!” He stood, flame-red hair a bit longer than she remembered. His shoulders were broader and his face was more defined, angular. “You made it!” Garreth walked over to her and stood in disbelief. She wondered if he was going to hug her, but he remained at a respectful distance.  

“Hello, Garreth! It’s been a while since I last saw you. I don’t remember you being so…” handsome “...tall.” 

“Ah, yeah” he laughed, foregoing the idea of hugging her after all. “That tends to happen when you get older.” He looked over at Leander. “For some of us.” 

“Hey! I’m average height!” Leander balked. 

“Please, sit with us!” A brown-haired woman gestured. She recognized her face but couldn’t put a name to it.

“Yes, thank you… uh.” 

“Violet!” 

“Thank you, Violet.” 

Garreth ran his fingers through his hair and pulled out the nearest chair. “Yes, please have a seat.” He waited until she sat before he moved back to sit across from her. 

She settled in while he took a huge swig of his drink, banging the empty mug down onto the table when he was done. Garreth’s maroon tie was already loose and the top button of his cream shirt was undone. She drank in the sight of him, noting all the subtle changes since she last saw him. It was much warmer on the second floor of the bar. Everyone else's coat was already hanging off the backs of their chairs and their scarfs were removed. 

“Here you are.” Sirona came up behind them. She began to set fresh mugs in the center of their table. 

There were five of them now, all sitting together around a large rectangular table. Amit set to her right while Garreth and Leander sat directly in front of her. Leander was seated between Garreth and Violet. 

“What round are you guys on?” She asked, realizing just how flushed everyone looked. Amit was giggling at something Leander whispered. 

“What does it matter!” He threw his hands into the air. 

“One too many.” Garreth teased, pulling Amit’s new mug away. 

“Hey! Give that back!” He stood and reached after his butterbeer. 

Leander stood, held out his hand, and made sure Amit didn’t fall forward onto the table. “Maybe some peanuts for the table?” He suggested to Violet. 

“Yes, let me go see if there’s a bowl nearby.” She stood, smiling at the guy's antics. 

Everyone already seemed to be in such a good mood. She hoped it would rub off on her. She couldn’t shake the antsy feeling. Even now, back at her old stomping grounds, she was restless. Years ago, this place would have been a respite from all the activities she was always doing. Now, it WAS the adventure. 

Garreth leaned toward her and spoke in a low tone. “I think he was here for a while before we got here.” Angling his eyes to Amit. 

Leander nodded. “Much earlier.” He joined in a low tone. “He’s on the verge of getting tossed out of here.” He jested.

Amit settled back into his chair when Violet brought over the bowl of nuts. “So!” Amit began, slurring a bit. “What have YOU been up to these past few years.” He clapped his hands together, narrowly knocking over the bowl. Violet caught it just in time. 

She cleared her throat. “Me? Um,” She scoured her mind for anything in her life that sounded even remotely interesting. 

“Yes! What have you been up to?” Garreth added. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” 

“Your hair is longer.” Leander pointed out. 

“I keep it shorter now than how I had it in school.” 

Leander squinted. “Then you style it differently… or something?” He guessed, tossing back a handful of peanuts.

Garreth shook his head with a sigh. His smile was contagious and she found herself grinning too. 

“Do you work at the ministry? Or do you have your own shop?” Garreth pressed eagerly. 

“Well, no. I mean, I did work at the ministry briefly.” Very briefly… barely 3 days. She wondered how many of her jobs she should raddle off. “And, I helped out at a shop near where I live for a bit.” One time. “But, right now I mostly do odd jobs here and there.” She rubbed her hands on her legs. Her palms had begun to sweat. 

Garreth nodded thoughtfully. “You haven’t found anything you want to stick with yet?”

“Not yet.” She pressed her lips together. She took a large sip of her butterbeer and used her finger to wipe away any foam. “What do you do?”

Garreth smiled and began “Well, I-”

“He's a big shot professor now!” Amit blurted out.

“Oh?” She looked back at him with an impressed look. 

“Yep!” Leander clapped Garreth on the back. “He’s the potions professor now.” His eyes held a prideful glint for his friend. “I know, shocker.”

“That’s impressive, Garreth! How do you like it?” She asked, leaning in with interest.  

Garreth shook off Leander's hand from his shoulder and grabbed a fresh mug from the center. 

“I love it!” His leg hit hers under the table and he sat up straight. “Sorry,”

“It’s alright.” She smiled, waving him off. “Tell us how you landed that position.” She sat back and took another drink of her beer. 

“Connections!” Leander blurted. “Luck! Possibly even liquid luck!” 

“Shut it, Leander.” Violet quipped, tossing a peanut at him. “Just because you needed liquid luck to get your job at the ministry doesn’t mean everyone else needs it.” 

Leander fished for the nut Violet had tossed at him and ate it straight away. 

“Connections or not, Garreth is a very talented potions master now!” Amit spoke up. He had begun to sink into his chair while his eyes drooped. 

“Oh really?” She met Garreth’s emerald eyes. 

“If you can believe it.” He smiled kindly and held her stare. She could swear she saw his face redden a bit. 

Garreth was always chipper in school no matter the circumstances. Now was no different. It seemed like he’d always have a cheerful air. That was why she always gravitated toward him during their school years. Even on the hardest days, she knew he would lighten the mood and her spirits. 

“I believe it. I am so happy for you.” She leaned forward toward him and Garreth mirrored her. 

“I could give you a tour of my classroom sometime. If, I mean, If you are going to stick around for another day.” Garreth’s eyes glittered as he smiled.

“Oh.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be here.”

“Of course.” He sat back up. “I didn’t mean to impose or-”

“No, no! You didn’t. I would love to see your classroom. I just hadn’t thought about where I’d stay.”

Garreth leaned back in, smiling brightly again. “I’m sure Sirona could set you up with a room tonight.”

“This is so cute.” Amit sighed. “I still ship it.” 

“What?” She snapped her head toward Amit and pinched her brows in confusion.

“Amit.” Garreth spoke his name sternly. She wondered if he used the same tone with his students when they acted out in his class. 

“Bah!” He waved his hand. “It was years ago!” 

“What was?” She inquired. 

“Nothing- Amit!” Garreth spoke over Amit as he began to ramble.

“Garreth used to be so hopelessly in love with you.” Amit sighed, clutching at his heart. “It was so cute listening to him go on and on about if he should ask you out or confess to you. He had so many plans to ask you on a date and not one time did he follow through.” Amit laughed. 

Leander nodded in agreement.

“Amit that's enough.” Garreth glared at Amit, desperation in his tone. 

“I had… no idea.” She kept her gaze down and readjusted in her seat. Her foot hit Garreth’s knee as she tried to cross her legs. 

“We always begged him to just ask you out already,” Leander added. “He was so annoying about it.”

“Please.” Garreth’s voice was quiet.  

“I think that's enough, you two.” Violet pushed the bowl of peanuts toward Amit. 

“Yes yes, sorry. But that was ages ago” Amit began. “I just thought it had been long enough that we could talk about it openly.” Amit gestured widely at the table. 

There was a beat of silence. 

“If you don’t mind, I am going to get some fresh air.” She stood, smoothing her skirt down. 

Garreth buried his face in his hands. 

“I’ll go with you,” Violet added. 

“No, no. it's okay. It’s just getting a bit stuffy in here.” She turned toward the stairs. Her steps picked up speed the farther she went. 

The night air blasted her face and she could feel the hot blush that had been crawling up to her ears. Despite it being Garreth that everyone teased, she felt just as flustered. 

She took deep breaths, allowing the cool air to fill her lungs all the way before she exhaled. 

It had been so long since she thought about how she felt back then. She and Garreth were inseparable their last few years at Hogwarts. She always suspected that he might have a thing for her, especially when he always had some kind of gift to give her. But, when he never pursued her, she let it go. She chalked it up to it just being a personality trait of his, being flirty and kind. Even if he was just that way toward her and no one else. 

She crossed her arms and moved out of the way of the door to let people pass. A pang of regret radiated through her. Maybe she should have been the one to speak up while they were in school. Maybe then she wouldn’t have had to go stag to the yule ball. Her eyes began to sting as she stared up at the starry sky.

“Can I join you out here?” Garreth’s voice came from behind her. 

She tore her eyes from the sky to where the voice came from. He had fixed his tie and put his coat back on. 

“Of course, you can join me.” She shot him a small smile. 

“I hope that wasn’t too uncomfortable…” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m sorry for… all that.” 

“No, it’s fine, Gar.” His years-old nickname felt so natural rolling off her tongue despite it not being used in quite some time. 

“I want to make sure you are okay…” 

She nodded. “Thank you. I’m okay.”

“You got out of there pretty fast.” His smile faltered. “I felt the same. I’ve never wished for an invisibility potion more in my life.” His laugh sounded strained. 

“Oh? The new potion master doesn’t have every potion on him at all times?” She quipped, finding a bench to sit on. She looked over at him thoughtfully and then pat the seat next to her. Garreth quickly obliged. 

“That’s a great idea. I'll keep a bottomless bag of all my potions from now on. You never know when you might need them.”

She smiled as she looked down, digging her toes into the gravel. “Was it true?”

Garreth was silent. 

“Was any of it true?” She pressed again. “Did you really like me all those years?” 

He didn’t answer right away. He blew warm air into his cupped hands then fished through his pockets. “Is it okay if it is?”

“Garreth.”

He sighed, slipping gloves onto his hands. “It’s true… I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I never wanted you to feel that way around me.” 

“All those years? You liked me all those years and you said nothing?” 

His head dropped. Garreth licked his lips and nodded.  “I didn’t want to lose you… you were my best friend. I-”

The alcohol she’d downed earlier began to tingle in her head. She willed the butterbeer to help her calm down. She didn’t think she could handle her heart hammering any faster than it already was. 

“I had the biggest crush on you.” She rubbed her temples. Getting everything out in the air would be best. If this went south, It’s not like she lived here and she was going to bump into him again. She would get it out of her system at least. It was only fair since his dirty laundry was already aired. 

Garreth’s face lit up. “You did?!”

“I did. And, I always wondered if you felt the same way…” She clasped her hands together. “I mean I thought you felt the same… sometimes. But then you’d pull away again and I would be left confused.” 

A smile crossed Garreth’s face. 

“Did you doodle my name in your notebook?” He teased, relaxing more in his seat.

“Shut up.” She laughed, pushing his arm. “No, I didn’t.” 

“Liar.” He smiled so wide, his whole face lit up. “Well, that's too bad then.” 

“What is?” 

“It’s too little, too late. Right?” He put his hands behind his head and stretched.

“No... No. It’s not. Is it?” 

“It’s not?”

She shook her head. 

Garreth leaned closer to her. “So, if I asked you on a date tomorrow night, you would say yes?” 

“A date?” She searched his face to see if he was being serious. 

She studied him for a moment, bathed in the yellow glow of the lantern street light. Her eyes followed the curve of his ginger lashes as they curled upward, pointing to his well-kept brows. She noticed how the freckles closest to the center of his face were slightly bigger than the ones on the outskirts.

“Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow night?” He spoke in a low tone. Not a hint of mischief in his words.

When she realized he was being serious, she nodded affirmatively. “I would love that.” 

Garreth returned her smile as a blush rushed across his cheeks. “I am so happy right now, wow.” He laughed. 

“Where are we going on our date?”

“Hmm,” He tapped his chin. ”May I keep it as a surprise?” 

“Sure. I’m fine with it being a surprise. Just let me know what kind of outfit I need to wear. I don’t want to wear heels if you’re taking me on a hike.” 

“Deal!” He agreed. “I’ll send you an owl first thing in the morning.” 

They sat for a moment in comfortable silence, gazing at each other. 

“This feels like a dream.” He reached over for her hand. 

She reached out, palm up, and accepted the gesture. 

“I can’t believe you liked me for so long and didn’t say anything.” She teasingly shook her head in disbelief. 

“I know. I was so stupid.” Garreth laughed. “I mean, if I knew what I know now, I would have asked you out ages ago. But…”

Her brows perked up as he fell silent. “But, what?” 

“I’m kind of glad we didn’t get together in school.” He rubbed his gloved fingers over the back of her hand.

“Why’s that?” 

“Because statistically speaking… we might not have still been together.”

“I see.” She leaned in closer to him, watching him trace the lines of her hand. The buzz from the beer had spread throughout her body. She felt warm under her winter coat.

Patrons continued to walk into the three broomsticks despite how late it was getting. 

“This place is pretty lively nowadays, huh?” She wondered out loud. 

“It really is. I think the population in the area has gone up a lot since we were in school. A lot more houses have been built.” Garreth bit his lip and dropped his gaze. Another group walked past them, laughing as they entered the building. “Would you like to go back inside with me?” Garreth asked. “Despite what happened at the end there, I was really enjoying catching up with everyone.” 

“Me too.” She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll go back in with you.” 

“Awesome! We will just make sure Amit and Leander are cut off for the rest of the night.” Garreth stood and offered her his arm. 

She laughed with him, linking her arm with his. “Deal.” 

—-------

A|N: I saw lil-grem-draws post about Professor Garreth and was obsessed with the concept!

Also, HI I'm AshWren! This is my first fic in almost 4 years. I forgot how much fun it is to write!

Thank you for reading!

Read Ch 2 here.

[thetantiger]

Dodging and Frostweaving

Word count: 1,192

Characters: Cryagosa (she/her), Dewdrop (she/they)

Somebody please help them, they're so awkward.

Cryagosa looked at her surroundings. What was once a barren ice cave of freezing solitude was now a proper dragon’s den, thanks to the inspiration struck by that tauren and goblin she’d encountered in Orgrimmar. She put her claws on her hips and marveled at the bright Lichfire braziers, the mound of lavish cushions and beddings dyed navy and gold at the back of the cavern, the beautiful frostweave curtains flowing in the slight breeze from Icecrown outside and the impressive stash of gems, trinkets and precious jewels she was able to scavenge from the remains of her old den. It had only took a little help from a geomancer; Obsydia was an incredibly easy dragon to persuade, for the price of a few choice crystals from Crya’s old stash.

The Frostwyrm grinned at the brilliantly decorated den before her. Oh, yeah. Prime place for a good fight. Dewdrop will love this.

She heard a rustle at the front of the cave and broke into a grin. She looked over her shoulder, seeing the faerie dracthyr she’d been waiting for. “Ah! Dewdrop. There you are. Do you like what I’ve done with the place?”

Dewdrop, in their usual routine, started out aggressive. It was a comfort to Crya, honestly. “You’re not outside raising Frostwyrms. What are you planning, Cryagosa?”

“You see, Dew,” Crya began, turning around and looking at them, her arms folded neatly behind her back underneath her wings. “I have since given up the attempt to raise Frostwyrms.”

She conveniently left out that this was solely for moral reasons; with the recent campaign to take care of some of the Residuum, Crya and the friend group of Death Knights she was connected to began realizing their distaste for the excessive authoritarianism of the Ebon Blade, and had begun focusing on their living selves. Cryagosa, as a soul that had died about ten thousand years ago when Neltharion made an example of the Blue Dragonflight during the War of the Ancients, was quite disconnected from her old self and honestly didn’t remember much of it other than how the impact of the Dragon Soul’s energy felt in her chest. What she did know, however, is that she was going to be left behind if she could not get a grasp on herself morally, just as the vrykul Knight Sjorkan almost was when he chose the Blade over them--and then quickly regretted it and chose to disobey orders to save their asses instead. However, she needed her and Dewdrop to continue this performative rivalry, this almost silly and theatrical mock-hatred of one another. Their combat was riveting; Dewdrop was an impressive opponent for such a small dragonkin. It fueled her. It ignited her.

“Instead, I have..” Crya broke into a grin, rubbing her hands together as she made her grand announcement. “..kicked over a public trash can, intentionally! And I didn’t clean it up!”

…

…It was silent for a moment.

Dewdrop looked around with large, bug-like eyes. “What? What is all this?”

“Oh, this?” Crya asked, grabbing the end of a curtain and rubbing the fabric between her claws curiously. “I was told I should decorate. Do you like it? Imagine all the things we can destroy in here fighting each other.”

Dewdrop blinked at her, the fuzzy antennae of their eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I don’t think I understand. You’re giving up raising Frostwyrms?”

Cryagosa sort of shrugged nonchalantly, leaning her head back and forth. “I.. er.. became bored with it.”

“And kicking over public trash cans is less boring?”

“It makes me feel less bad.”

Dewdrop gasped at her, starting to form a slight smile. “Crya! You’re forming a moral compass.”

Cryagosa scowled and immediately turned away from them, stomping further into the cave with a dismissive wave at the dracthyr. “Nonsense,” she hissed, aware of the sound of Dewdrop’s talons on the cold floor of the cave as they followed her. “I am just-.. trying to find less inconvenient ways of being evil.”

“Sure, that’s what it is,” Dewdrop replied sarcastically, the amusement audible in their voice. “Alright, fine, I’ll bite.”

“Good!” Crya exclaimed. “You use only your claws too often.”

Dew sighed. “Well what in here were you planning to destroy? This all looks pretty expensive.”

“Well I’m delighted you asked!” Cryagosa whipped back around, immediately reaching for Dewdrop’s shoulders and spinning them towards the wall. Dew made a small noise of alarm--not dissimilar to a peep--and sort of threw them into the curtain. She made sure to be a little gentle at least for this, as Dewdrop hadn’t struck her yet--she always let Dewdrop strike first, it was more fun that way--and quickly realized the dracthyr’s back might hit the cave wall a little too hard for her liking so she grabbed them again to ensure that didn’t happen.

Dewdrop’s horns were slightly eclipsed by the frostweave of the long curtain but that was about it. The cloth barely dipped over their forehead, and their hands sort of planted against the wall, deep purple eyes wide and staring at her.

“Well, if I threw you with a little bit more effort, you could get completely tangled up in this thing,” Crya said, her talons still on Dewdrop’s shoulders. “You would tear at it, and then maybe throw me into that pile of gold over there, and-”

…

Something was wrong.

Crya examined them carefully. As a being afflicted with the same Shadowfrost element that Frost and James were, big sources of heat were easily detectable for her if close enough. And by the Aspects, they were close enough. Crya only just now realized how this might look, with Dewdrop in her den and the whole place decorated so extravagantly and her claws on their shoulders against the wall and suddenly she felt the ice within her spike. She looked at Dewdrop, vibrant blood rushing to their face and reddening the light blue hue of their base scales. Dewdrop simply stared back at her and didn’t say anything, their bug-like eyes endless pits of violet. They didn’t exactly look bad, pressed against the frostweave cloth, their mouth slightly agape in startlement and their set of razor teeth barely visible. She could’ve sworn she saw Dewdrop move, saw their head tilt, saw them lean in, saw their eyes flutter. She could’ve sworn she leaned in, too.

“I HAVE TO GO,” Cryagosa said much louder than she intended as she pulled away at the last possible second. She’d never felt such intense cold emitting from the icy core in her chest before. This was something different and she most certainly was not having it. Dewdrop paused, eyes widening again, and didn’t respond. “I- I have to run some errands.” She very consciously removed her claws from the dracthyr’s shoulders and started literally sprinting for the exit.

“Wait! Crya, what are you-”

“Bye!” She didn’t even wait for Dewdrop to finish a sentence. She took off with a strong beat of her wings, and soared towards the Borean Tundra, grasping at her own muzzle with sheer embarrassment and hoping maybe one of her friends could explain this away for her.

[raccoonfallsharder]

oh my god! so i kept on telling myself that i’ll read window across the galaxy whenever i find time (haven’t really done that yet T_T it feels like i have all the time in the world and yet not enough) and i come to do my daily check of raccoonfallsharder to find out IT’S FINISHING SOON?! you work at the SPEED OF LIGHT (which is a compliment ❤️‍🩹 i am a snail and i wish i wasn’t.) but hopefully i can start binge reading WATG soon, the excerpts i’ve seen look amazing (which isn’t shocking coming from you. everything you write is a masterpiece!)

all of this to be said, i hope you’re doing okay. i know you write the Rocket Reminders for others but i hope you apply them to yourself as well. you deserve amazing things And More!

okay first of all you do a DAILY CHECK of my blog?? ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡ i mean that has to be an exaggeration but it’s still the sweetest fucken thing ive ever heard?? this seriously has made my whole shitty week better (hello tuesday morning, ive peaked). this whole ask is just so sweet and caring and kind. i might be tearing up in my office. thank you. i am carrying your words with me everywhere i go today, like armor ♡

secondly window will be here waiting for you whenever you’re ready babydoll. it’s not going anywhere (also you don’t gotta binge it! it’s perfectly fine to take bitesized chomps)

thirdly snails are incredibly important. they’re recyclers and pollinators and they are very cute when drinking water. there is nothing wrong with taking time, and fanfic writing should be enjoyable — not something to punish or pressure yourself about. 6 out of 10 experts agree that in all likelihood, trying to rush something like this is just a result of capitalism convincing you of the lie that “productivity” (whatever that is) is the most important thing. the other 4/10 say that you would have more time to create if it weren’t for capitalism in the first place, so it’s still not your fault. anyway the point is please keep being a lovely perfect snail going at your own lovely perfect pace and don’t be too hard on yourself

finally here’s an extra window excerpt (the very beginning) just for you ♡♡♡ may your day be full of soft and happy moments, you gorgeous winter sunrise, and may you feel loved & cared for every second

☆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The Eclector is dark and, despite the raucous laughter and fighting of the crew, every footfall on the gridded catwalks seems to echo. It smells like rust and oil and old metal, and sometimes sweat, and there’s generally very little that is pleasant about it.

But Kraglin Obfonteri had sent word that the Yondu clan had recently overtaken a Xandaran luxury liner. Among its treasures, there had been a pretty vast art collection, and Jolie is a reliable assessor and - for some of the more common mediums, as well as a few blindingly unique ones - a restorer. It’s not the first time she’s contracted her services out to a Ravager crew. Hell, it’s not even the first time she’s worked with the Yondu Clan. She crosses paths with them at least once every fifteen cycles or so.

So here she is, following some hulking brute named Taserface and dodging when pirates on the catwalk above decide to spit over the side.

What a way to spend my morning, she thinks. There better be something worthwhile in this pile of junk.

They finally leave the belly of the ship and Taserface leads her through a network of cargo holds and corridors, trying to make very awkward conversation and occasionally leering at her. Jolie is a consummate professional, though, and she’s dealt with a lot of creeps. She keeps a polite smile on her lips and a dead look in her eyes. She’d been hoping today’s escort would be the aforementioned Kraglin, or maybe fellow-Terran Peter Quill. Pete’s been family since Jolie met him - almost seven years ago - even if they don’t usually see each other more than once every few cycles at most. He’s a handful of years older than her, but his relative optimism still makes her feel like he’s a sweet, annoying little brother. Frankly, it pulls some heartstrings, because Jolie has baggage where younger siblings are concerned.

Kraglin, on the other hand, is a remarkably endearing moron, and Jolie kind of adores him, the same way she adores particularly stupid cats.

Unfortunately, Jolie gathers that Pete has apparently disappeared in his M-Ship without a word - much to the irritation of the rest of the Yondu clan - and Obfonteri is offsite on orders from the captain, engaging in some kind of criminal activity or another. So here she is, stuck with a guy who could’ve picked any name in the galaxy and settled on Taserface.

Each chamber the pirate guides her through is packed with stolen goods, and she keeps her eyes open in case there’s some incredible artistic masterpiece that has somehow escaped the haul he’s currently taking her to examine. No luck so far, and Taserface is pulling ahead of her, trying to impress her by droning on about some recent brawl he’s been in. She zones out of the conversation, only smiling placidly and nodding vacantly when he glances back at her.

They pass another corridor, this one even more abandoned, and enter yet another chamber. More goods are stacked all around, a disorganized horde of stolen treasures: casks of silverwine from Vanaheim, crates of shimmering pearls from Morag, pleasure-bots from Contraxia. At the far end, she sees what looks like the corner of a cage.

Her eyes narrow, and her head tilts.

That’s unusual.

Normally, bounties are housed in the caged cells lining the main corridors just off the belly of the ship - not hidden, and not mixed in with the loot. As they draw closer, Jolie can just make out a shadow shifting inside - something the size of a kid.

Her blood runs cold.

She’d heard Yondu and his crew had already been exiled from the loose coalition of Ravager clans due to trafficking children, but she’d thought they’d stopped doing that years ago, when Pete had come on board. Is that why this cage is hidden way out here?

They draw closer, and she catches a glimpse of fur moving behind the rusted bars. Out here in space, that doesn’t mean anything in particular: it could still be a child. Her stomach becomes a stone in her gut, and she knows she's not leaving this stupid fucking ship without knowing what's going on, and making sure everything is okay. She’s got enough units on her that she can probably afford one or two kids, maybe a few if she needs to - a bribe more than a purchase, she thinks, and a mean fucking talking-to for Yondu Udonta. But if he's making some kind of a habit out of this, she’s going to need a lot more resources than she currently has available to her.

And maybe he’s not. She's trying very hard not to jump to conclusions, because to be honest - despite his reputation - Yondu really doesn’t seem like the type to continue engaging in this shit. And she kind of likes him, like the grumpy old uncle she's never had.

Taserface keeps heading straight across the chamber to the other door, boasting and blathering, but Jolie’s drawn to the cage. Smoothly - never breaking stride - she veers to the left, and her tour guide doesn't even notice.

The metal box is about three feet tall, sitting on top of a knee-high crate scrawled with the words “sovereign porn” in Kree - lovely, Jolie thinks drily - and there’s definitely a lifeform inside. She leans in just a bit, and catches a flash of bright eyes and teeth and - she thinks that’s a ringed tail, and a mask.

That can’t be right.

Her eyes scan him again, and yeah: the caged creature looks almost like a raccoon from back home, but he’s standing upright on his hindlegs and…yep, he is most certainly wearing pants.

The lifeform rears back: teeth bared in a vicious, silent snarl, ears flat against his skull. In this position, she can see some kind of metal has been embedded in his chest. The fur around it - and in a few other places - has long since stopped growing due to scarring, and the flesh around the metal itself looks painfully inflamed. Her heart slams into her sternum and her stomach drops.

“Oh, love,” she breathes out, unthinking. “What did they do to you?”

The raccoon tilts his head to one side, eyes bright with biting intelligence, and she could swear he’s practically sneering. He opens his mouth and for all the world, she almost thinks he’s going to answer her.

Taserface interrupts any miraculous revelations with his too-loud, too-boastful voice, suddenly behind her, leaning too close. “T’was the High Evolutionary Hisself what cut the critter up and stitched it back together. Replaced some of its bones with new ones and made it walk like it’s tryin’ to be a man.”

She straightens and stares up at him, and the asshole chuckles, like it’s funny.

Jolie makes a noise in her throat before she can stop it. “Nope. Don’t like that.”

She turns back, still eyeballing the creature on the other side of the rusty bars. It’s shadowy in there, but she’d guess he’s maybe three-feet tall with change. And if he is a raccoon - and he sure does look like one - he’s probably already plotting his escape.

She gnaws on her lower lip. “And where are you all taking him now?”

Taserface looks at her like she’s an idiot. Maybe she is.

“Back t’ HalfWorld an’ the High Evolutionary, a’course.”

Her head snaps around to face him so quickly that something in her neck audibly cracks, sending a hot flare of pain up the back of her skull. She ignores it. “So they can torture him some more?”

Taserface shrugs and glowers and spits dismissively. “It'll be two hunnert-thousand units.”

Jolie sucks in a breath through her teeth. That’s more than…well, that’s more than a few children.

She looks at the rusted bars, and back to her brute of a tour guide, and sighs heavily. Slowly, she turns back to the cage, swaying toward the bars so she can peer in at eye-level. She’s immediately face-to-face with the creature. His ears are still pressed flat against his head, fur bristling, and he’s gazing back, clearly suspicious and probably - justifiably - feeling more than a little bit mean. She’s suddenly certain that if she got close enough, he’d take out her eyes.

There’s no helping herself, is there? Goddamn, she’s an idiot. One corner of her mouth twists up in exhausted resignation and she sighs.

“Welp,” she says solemnly to the raccoon with a polite nod, “fuck me, my dude.”

Swiftly, she stands back up, turning to Taserface and flattening her palms together in front of her with a soft clap. Her fingers lace together and she presses her knuckles to her lips in half a prayer. She’s not going to think about the consequences too much. Not till later, anyway. She’s going to move through these next moments in a flurry, a manufactured whirlwind: partly so she doesn’t second-guess herself, and partly to keep Taserface from applying too much critical thinking to anything she’s about to say.

She imagines that second part should be easy.

“It looks like it’s Udonta’s lucky day, because I happen to have two-hundred-and-thirty thousand units on hand, and I’ve always wanted a raccoon.”

[weasleywinchester]

Counting Stars

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2

Saul Silva x Curvy Female Reader

Eyyy we’re back, mainly because a really want to watch season 2 but I don’t want what happens in that story to change what I’ve written in my head so far. Thank you to all who’ve recently found chapter 1 and showed chapter 2 some love! I hope you enjoy chapter 3

P.S. I HAVE ALMOST 300 FOLLOWERS?!! Muchas Gracias! 🤩🤩🤩

Summary: over the least few years you had more adventure outside the barriers of fairy kind then most have in their life time. You spend months exploring places thought to be lost, finding treasure and making new friends. But between the excitement you always kept one foot firmly in Alfea, for your friends, for yourself. But when Saul disappears from your life for longer then you like, you take the first job that puts you back where everything started.

Alfea hasn’t changed in the few years you’ve been gone. The fighting fields are still lush and green, the forest shrouded in magic. You didn’t think you would be back so soon but when duty calls-

“Can’t stay away can you?” You turn to see your best friend Diana as she jogs toward you.

“Not for long anyway.” You laugh, giving her a hug.

“And what are you doing back? You just came to visit about three months back! Thought you were off on grand adventures!” She throws one arm in the air, and the other around your shoulders as you both walk down the path.

“I was, they just happened to lead back here.”

“To Alfea? What kind of art needs to be found here?”

“Oh, there’s lots of old abandoned land, buildings, cellars… and a very outdated catalog for the school.” You giggle.

“You’ve been keeping up on those exercises we tried last time?”

You look over at her, your eyes lighting up like an inferno and then back to your normal eye color.

“Glad you’ve kept those skills sharp.” You two walk for a bit, the crunch of the gravel soothing as the sun burns off the morning fog.

“So how is everyone?” You look down at your feet.

“He's as handsome as ever.” Di smiles at you. “And he's single.” She sing songs, dodging your playfully punch and running away.

“BYE!” You yell after her.

“His class is about to start!” She yells back.

_______

You’re surprised at the lack of grunts and weapon noises as you round the hedge borders of the training grounds. And then you see why: Saul is giving his newest group of specialists one of his world class speeches.

“You can’t afford to doubt yourself in battle.” He sternly explains. He’s met with silence and blank faces. He takes a deep breath in, trying to wake himself up. He’s gone through many sleepless nights, but the ones as of late are different.

“What he actually means is if you’re going to think like a dumbass, don’t wimp out at the last second.” You loudly announce to the class. Saul whips around as the class giggles.

“Phoenix?” He says, surprise clear on his face.

“Mr. Silva.” You smile before turning your attention to the class. “But seriously. You have to commit to your actions. If you don’t then your life isn’t the only one in danger. You, as a specialist, are tasked with keeping each other and fairies safe. Mr. Silva’s lessons, no matter how hard they may be, will keep you alive. He is one of the reasons I can stand before you.”

The class whispers, a few in awe that a teacher did something besides teach.

“Yours words are too kind. And I am humble enough to say that Miss Kin has saved me on more than one occasion.” He gives you a small smile, the class erupting in another wave of whispers.

“Alright, everyone take a lap.” He barks. The group of young specialists take off, some grumbling. “Thompson, Rodgers, extra lap for grumbling.” He yells after them.

“How’s the potential looking?” You come to stand next to him. Di was right, he’s as handsome as ever.

“They’ll be fine warriors.” He looks over at the group, “probably a good batch of support members. What are you doing here?” He keeps his eyes trained forward. If he looks at you, you’ll be able to tell something is weighing on him; and you won’t let it go until you’ve fixed it.

“Working. Where were you when I came to visit?” You shoot back.

“Things have become more complicated lately.” He sighs. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see you, it was just ill timing with a new responsibility on his plate. When you don’t answer right away he turns to look at you. Your eyes are shimmering copper, one eyebrow arched to the heavens. You change so much every time he sees you; stronger, more confident. And more beautiful than all the stars in the sky.

“I’ll let that suffice, for now.” You wink. “Anyways, I will be here for the next few months. I thought maybe we could train together again? Someone needs to keep you on your toes.”

He takes a deep breath in, averting your gaze once more. He’s missed training with you. The small stint where you both got to be out in the field fighting burned ones was the best few months of his life. Fighting alongside you was different than fighting alongside his friends; it was far more peaceful for starters. Gave the two of you plenty of time to know each other as friends rather than just student to teacher.

“If it’s too much-“

“No! No.” He claps his hands behind his back, his mind activity trying to figure out how, if, he could squeeze that in. “Would Thursday mornings work?”

“Sounds perfect.” You wiggle your arms around his middle, his chuckle vibrating your whole body as he squeezes you back.

“Maybe we could have dinner once I get settled in?” You begrudgingly let go of him as the students round the corner to come back toward you.

“I would like that.” He gives you a small smile before turning to the group of students. “Great job everyone. How about we ask our guest for a demonstration?” He smirks at you as the crowd gives a cheer.

_______

An hour. It’s been one hour since your lesson was supposed to start. You’ve trained with Saul for years, and he’s never ever been late. You were once 3 minutes early, instead of 5, and he chewed your head off.

Something must be wrong. Di did mention he’s been putting in a lot of hours… You pace the field once more before walking towards the teacher’s cottages. Saul had told you once which one was his, in case of an emergency (although Di teased for a whole month that it was so you would crawl into his bed!)

You step onto the porch, putting your fist up to knock, but you can’t quite get your knuckles to make contact. What if he’s at the field now? Or maybe he meant to start next week?

You knock gently. Listening for any sound. Eventually the door cracks open and you can see one bright blue eye.

“Hi… I’m Phoenix. I’m looking for Mr. Silva?” You cock your head to one side. I didn’t know Saul had a son…

“Ok.” The boy whispers, pattering back down the hall, leaving the door open. You take a tentative step in, there’s toys and clothes draped over a couch, but otherwise the place is very orderly.

“Sky! Back to bed!” Saul commands, his heavier footsteps coming from the hall.

The little boy races past you, leaping over the arm of the couch and taking cover under a blanket.

“Phee?”

You turn to Sauls deep voice, giving him a small smile. He looks like he needs at least three years of sleep and a whole pot of coffee.

He frowns at you. Why is she here? What day is it? Your eyes haven’t moved from his, and he’s not sure why you look so uncomfortable.

You silently will yourself to break the staring contest; but if you do that your eyes will go to his very shirtless upper half. And that will only make things even more awkward than it already is.

“It’s Thursday morning. Our lessons…” you bite your lip. Oh maker, he did mean next week. You shouldn’t have assumed…

Saul blinks slowly a few times, his head slowly putting together lessons and Thursdays. Lessons! Your training was supposed to start this morning you idiot!

“Phee, I’m so sorry… I didn’t… I don’t…” Saul stutters as he gently puts his hand your shoulder.

“It’s alright… I didn’t mean to intrude. I just wanted to make sure you were ok.” You stammer, the gentle touch of his hand red hot through your shirt.

“Give me a minute while I handle him, and.. ugh.. shirt.” Saul quickly picks up the blanket wrapped child and jogs down the hall.

You slowly exhale, slapping your hands over your eyes. What the hell just happened? All those dirty thoughts have been neatly tucked away in the corner of your brain! And what was with the nickname?! He only ever calls you Phoenix, not Phee! And no shirt? Is that how he always sleeps? Oh maker, did he have a partner here? Of course you would walk into something like that! But he would have mentioned that he had a child with someone… right? You two were close enough.

“Phoenix?” Saul tilts his head to one side. You’re facing the window, hands kneading your arms like dough. He steps closer saying your name again, but you still don’t answer. He tries once more, gently touching your bare arm. You “hmm” in response and bump right into his chest; your arms reach for him to keep yourself from bouncing back too far. His hands automatically catch you by the waist in an attempt to keep you steady.

You both freeze. You look up at his grey eyes, so many emotions rolling through them like storm clouds. His stubble looks like it hasn’t been shaved since you saw him earlier this week; you long to gently scratch your fingers against his jaw, silently telling him to shave and get some rest.

Saul could count all the stars in the universe and it wouldn’t compare to the flecks of gold I your eyes. They’re warm and inviting, they feel more like home than his cottage does. And for the first time he yearns to run his fingers along your cheek, to feel the heat of your skin against his.

“Maybe we could just have breakfast and talk.” You whisper. He slowly nods, letting go of your waist and walking into the kitchen.

“Saul, what happened?” You watch as he opens the fridge and grab the carton of eggs and the open packet of bacon.

He doesn’t answer right away. What could he say? Where does he even start? He puts the eggs in his hand on the counter, his mind slowly slipping into a headspace he can’t afford to be in. He has Sky to think about, his students.

Your hand gently touches his arm and it all comes flooding back. He wraps himself around you, a sob breaking free from somewhere deep in his chest.

You quickly wrap your arms around him, one hand gently rubbing his back as the other cradles the back of his head. You can feel his tears against your neck, tears he probably held in for far too long.

You’re not sure how long you stand there, but when you feel his grip loosen you pull his face to look at you.

“I’ll call the Headmistress. You need the day off.” You tell him. He gives a small nod and wraps his arms around you once more.

_______

“Hello Headmistress Dowling.” You sigh into the phone as you start cleaning up Sky’s toys that are strewn about the room.

“I’m surprised to get a call so early from you. And please, call me Ferrah. You are a friend of friend after all.”

“Ok, well… I’m calling on behalf of Saul, he won’t be able to make it in today.”

“Did something happen?” You can hear her chair scrape along the floor and papers shuffling.

“I don’t know the whole story but he needs rest.”

“The school should be there to pick up Sky in about an hour. And I’ll arrange for the other instructors to cover today's training.” She assures you. There’s a few moments where neither of you say anything, the weight of whatever is happening coming down on you both.

“Ferrah, what happened?” You ask quietly.

“I think that might be better explained in person.” She tells you, hanging up. You look down at your phone, unsure of what you could possibly do.

“Phee.” A small voice comes from the hall and you look over to see Sky’s little blonde head poking out.

“Let’s get dressed for school.” You smile at him and follow him to his room. You help him pick out clothes and put on his shoes, managing to shuffle to the door as someone knocks.

You open it to find Ferrah standing on the porch.

“Good Morning.” She gives you a small nod before turning to Sky. “Ready for school?”

He gives her a nod as the school bus rounds the corner. You and Ferrah walk him to the bus, waiving as it pulls away.

“Andreas was killed.” She whispers to you. She can feel the backs of her eyes prickle, it’s been easier to ignore it then let herself feel anything.

“When?”

“About six months back.”

You nod, it explains why Saul hadn’t spoken to you for several months; not because he didn’t want to, he was just dealing with a whole new life.

“He immediately took Sky in. A big adjustment for him, but you know how he is; doesn’t think he needs help.” A smile flashes across her face but there’s only sadness behind it.

You don’t know what to say, it’s hard enough losing someone you love, but to take on the responsibility of a child?

“Would you like to come in?” Your voice is shaky in your throat, every emotion threatening to come to the surface.

“I trust you to take care of him. We’ve each dealt with this in our own way, but this is the first chance he’s had.” She puts a hand on your shoulder, giving you a sad smile and starts off toward Alfae.

_______

Saul cracks open his eyes, the familiar pattern of the ceiling greeting him like any other morning. Phoenix. He slowly sits up, planting his feet firmly on the floor before pushing himself up. He listens for a moment, the sound of someone singing gently passing through the cracks around the door.

He gently tugs the door open, now hearing the music and getting smacked in the face with the smell of breakfast.

His feet lazily slap against the wooden floor as he walks into the kitchen. You’re stood at the stove, head gently bopping along to the song coming from the stereo as you finish cooking what looks to be breakfast burritos.

“Fucks sake Saul!” You gasp when you catch sight of him. The corner of his mouth tugs up a little as he leans against the doorway. You throw a tinfoil wrapped burrito at him, which he expertly catches with a chuckle.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, love.” His eyes move from the burrito to you, the storm within him seems to have calmed a little.

“Did you get some rest?” You walk over to him, leaning against the wall beside him.

“More than I have in the last few months.” He confesses.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I couldn’t disrupt your life like that. You were doing what you were meant to do. You didn't need all this.” He waves his hand carelessly in the air.

“All this,” you mimic the gesture,” is your life Saul. It’s not a burden on mine. You are never a burden to me.” You lay your hands on his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. “You’re not my instructor anymore. We fought alongside each other, learned from one another, and became friends. Let me return the support you've always given me.”

He sighs. She’s always right isn’t she? He gently moves a piece of hair out of your face, indulging in the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips, your copper eyes closing for longer than a quick blink. He wraps you in a hug, your arms surrounding him in your warmth.

“Did you clean my house?” He playfully shouts.

“I had to stay busy.” You laugh into his chest. “If you need someone to watch Sky after school, I would be more than happy to.” You set your chin on his chest, big dazzling copper eyes staring up at him.

“You don’t have too… I can mange” He shrugs.

“I know I don’t have to, but let me help you.”

“As you wish.”

Tag List 💙

@mochminnie

[spectacled-renegade-writes]

An Early Start - Chapter 16 - Danny Phantom

Ao3: Here | Masterpost: Here

Ao3 Description: The accident that turns Danny half-ghost happens when he is four years old and leaves him trapped in the Ghost Zone. Clockwork finds him and takes him in to raise. But what happens when Clockwork sends Danny back to the human-world ten years later when a permanent portal appears?

Chapter 16:

Nighttime in Masters Manor left the entire castle with the same unsettling feeling as the man himself. But Danny was exhausted, especially after not sleeping the night before in that stupid RV, so he resolved to try and get at least some sleep. He managed a restless two hours before his ghost sense woke him up. Whatever. It’s not like he was sleeping very well anyway. Danny turned in to his ghost half, always a welcome return, and went to go find the source. It honestly didn’t surprise him that this castle was haunted, but he wanted to make sure none of them would hurt his family.

The source of his ghost sense did not take long to find. While invisible, he saw those same three vulture ghosts from back in Amity Park, and they finally found his father as they trailed behind him while he groggily made his way to the bathroom. Danny swooped underneath the floor and brought his dad with him, dropping him off at the bathroom before returning. “Hi, guys,” Danny said. “I thought I sent you to Florida.” The vultures turned around at the sound of his voice, scowls adorning their faces and a biting remark surely at the ready. But, the moment they did turn, they proceeded to scream, and flew off.

Well, okay then. “That was weird.” Danny mumbled.

“Ah, bright boy.”

Danny spun around and found himself greeted face to face with a different ghost altogether. Black hair, blue face and a white suit. The ghost floated with arms crossed and a smirk across his face. Danny lifted a hand and waved. “Hello.”

“Clockwork’s ward,” the ghost said. “I’ve heard tales of you. I also heard you recently left the Ghost Zone.”

“A lot of ghosts have heard of me,” Danny replied. “But my name is Phantom. What’s your name?”

The ghost only smiled and phased through the wall behind him, into the castle's study. Danny followed. “You can call me Plasmius.” The ghost said. “Tell me, my boy, why would a ghost like you decide to leave the Ghost Zone, now of all times, to protect the humans? What changed?”

Danny had a feeling he was going to have to fight this ghost, but he could tell he was powerful, so Danny didn’t know if it was a fight to win. He remained calm as he answered. “Clockwork gave me a mission.”

“So you decide to just follow his orders blindly? Oh, you are such a child.”

“He raised me,” Danny scowled despite himself. He took a breath and centered himself again, now was not the time to lose his temper. “Why are you here? Do you know those vultures?”

“I hired those idiot vultures!” Plasmius announced. “They were supposed to kill Jack, not believe the weak lie of some teenage ghost. I guess I’ll just have to finish him off myself,” and his face darkened. “But you first.” Plasmius shot a blast of pink ectoplasmic energy at Danny and Danny quickly put up a force field to dodge it.

“Can’t we talk this out?” Danny tried. “I don’t want to fight you!”

Plasmius only smirked. “No you most certainly do not.” He shot another blast at Danny and Danny let go of flight to dodge it. The moment he reached the ground, he touched the floor, and a shot of ice fractured out, climbing up Plasmius once it reached him, completely encasing him.

Danny shot back in to the air and flew toward him. “Look, it doesn’t have to –“ But seconds later Danny was thrown back. From inside his encasing of ice, fire began to burn from Plasmius’ entire body, and once the ice was melted enough, he broke free.

“Clever,” Plasmius said. “But still not stronger than me!” He flew toward Danny and split into four versions of himself, surrounding Danny. Trapped on all sides, Danny knew he was at a disadvantage, cloning himself was something he's not yet managed to master. Danny knew he only had one choice left, but it was destructive, and he was not at that point yet, so he fought.

Danny gave it everything he could, fought with everything he had, but it still wasn’t enough. Plasmius countered every attack and immediately got back up every time he was hit.

“Why do you want to kill Jack Fenton so bad?!” Danny demanded.

“Because,” Plasmius growled. “He deserves to die.”

“Then you leave me no other choice.” Danny steeled himself, took a deep breath, and released a ghostly wail that shook the entire room. Books fell off their shelves, chairs went flying, and Plasmius screamed as he was thrown against the opposite wall and slid to the floor. The battle was over. When he was sure Plasmius would not get up, Danny too fell to the floor, exhaustion from the fight mixed with the energy drained from his most powerful attack, he blacked out, letting go of his transformation against his will.

-

Danny woke up one more time that night. Adrenaline hit the moment he regained consciousness and he desperately tried to fight away the binds that held him. Only after he escaped did he realize that they were not binds at all, but in fact his blanket.

“You gave me quite a scare.” Danny whipped his head over to see Vlad Masters standing in his doorway. “Are you okay, my boy?”

Danny looked around. How… What?

“I found you passed out in my study,” Vlad explained. “So, I picked you up and brought you back to bed.”

Danny narrowed his eyes. Shouldn't Vlad have noticed the destruction? Yet again something about this man didn't sit right with Danny, but they were alone and Vlad had every opportunity to drop the potential façade if he wanted to. Since he didn't, and remained innocently in place, Danny tentatively decided to drop it for now. So, Danny placed his hands on his chest and bowed his head in apology.

“Not to worry,” Vlad assured. “What’s a scare between friends?” He turned on his heal to make his way back to the door but stopped long enough to say, “Sleep tight, little badger.” Danny watched as Vlad left the room and closed the door behind him, leaving an unsettled air behind. Danny felt more stressed than ever now but at the same time, exhaustion embraced him like a wool coat and shortly after pulled him under.

-

The next day Danny kept his eyes peeled for any sign of those vultures, or of Plasmius, but when he went back to the study to investigate, everything was in its rightful place. It was disconcerting and Danny resolved himself to stay at least in the next room over from his father at all times, just to be safe.

Danny went back to his room once early evening rolled around to put on the suit his parents bought him, but faltered at the tie. He’s never tied a tie in his life and in fact didn’t understand their function at all. Shouldn’t the suit be enough to show one was all dressed up? Danny exited his room to seek out Jazz to see if she knew how to tie a tie, but the moment he turned the corner, he nearly ran into none other than Vlad. “Ah, Daniel,” Vlad said, stopping him by his shoulders. “You seem to be in a rush. Might there be something I can help you with?”

‘No’. Danny thought. If he could help it he’d stay away from this man as much as possible.

“Do you perhaps need help with your tie?”

Danny gulped. He really should say no and just go find Jazz, but when that’s what he decided to do, Vlad was already reaching out to help him.

“You’ve been gone so long, it’s no wonder your father never taught you how to do this. There you go, good as new.” Danny looked down and smoothed out the tie. He missed his hoodie. At least in that he didn’t feel as exposed as he did in this constricting suit. He kept his head down as he nodded in thanks. “It’s no trouble at all, little badger. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have guests to greet.” Vlad continued his way down the hall and Danny sprinted off to continue his search for his sister.

Danny found Jazz ten minutes later in a theater room, watching some black and white film about the Packers. He tapped her shoulder to get her attention. “Oh, hi Danny.” Jazz smiled. "I was wondering where you were." Danny tilted his head and pointed to the door. Jazz wrinkled her nose. “And watch a bunch of old fossils pogo to new wave music? Pass.” Danny didn’t know what half those words even meant. But, he got the message. He shrugged and left her to her own devices. Honestly, Danny wanted to join her, but he had to make sure no vulture ghosts, or any other ghosts, would try to hurt his father.

The moment he entered the party room with his parents, he regretted his decision. Danny didn’t know if it was due to the amount of people present, but the room felt smaller than many of the other rooms in the castle. The music felt too loud and there were too many smells from too many body sprays. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and braced himself for the evening to come.

“Hey, Harry!” Jack called. From across the room Danny could see a woman in a green suit grimace in discontent. Okay, impatience with his father was officially removed from the list of things that make Vlad Masters unsettling.

The woman walked over to them and said with faux pleasantries, “Jack, Maddie, how nice…”

Danny’s father remained oblivious as usual as he wrapped a large hand around Danny’s shoulder and introduced the woman. “...But back in my college days she was just Harry. Harry Chin!” Danny cringed at the same moment his father laughed. Goodness, Danny really wanted to leave.

Danny watched his mother apologize for his father’s behavior, and his father take his mother to dance. Danny sagged his shoulders but when Harriet walked up next to him, he gave her a tight smile. “I’ve heard of you,” Harriet said. “I couldn’t not look into it when I saw the name Fenton cross my desk. Sorry you had to come home to that.” Danny followed her gaze to his father, who was knocking people down left and right, and couldn’t even be mad.

Danny contented himself with sitting at a table and tried to pass the time by counting how many people there were, but kept needing to restart, because people kept coming and going and no one would stay in one place. He was grateful when he was given an excuse to leave. Vlad appeared next to him and said, “Daniel, there you are, I was wondering if you could do me a huge favor.” Danny perked up and nodded. He didn't particularly like this man but if he was giving him an excuse to leave, then Danny would take it. Vlad smiled. “Wonderful. Could you go to my lab, second door on the right upstairs, there’s a present in there for your father that I’d like you to bring down.” Danny practically jumped out of his seat at the opportunity.

The halls were empty when Danny reached the next floor and he took a moment to just breathe. He seriously could not wait for this weekend to be over. It was especially times like these where he missed the Ghost Zone the most. Danny hoped this mission wouldn’t last forever. He hoped he could one day return.

Danny made his way down the hall to the room Vlad described, and went inside. Well, this was definitely a lab. However, there was no present in sight. He looked around... This was a huge castle, was there maybe a different lab? But just as Danny was about to turn to leave, he caught sight of a framed photo, one with a piece torn off, and Danny was certain he had the other half. He pulled that torn photo of his father from his pocket and held it up to the frame. It was a perfect match. Not good.

Danny’s ghost sense went off and he transformed but the moment he did, tentacles from two ecto-pusses wrapped around his arms and lifted him into the air. It wasn’t difficult to push them off. But, the moment he did, he was captured in a net. Danny went sliding across the room and after he hit the wall, he was finally able to look up to see who attacked him, and was greeted by Skulker. Danny quickly broke free of the net and flew to the ceiling. “What are you doing here?” He demanded. “Aren’t you getting tired of this game?”

“All excellent questions that I will not answer,” Skulker replied. He fired a shot at Danny and hit him square in the chest. Danny fell to the floor and in one fluid motion, Skulker slid a cube over to him and before Danny could react, it encased itself around him. The moment it did it began to disrupt his powers and Danny watched as Skulker hit a button, and the cube began to electrocute him. The pain that followed was overwhelming and he tried to use his ghostly wail to escape, but it was all for naught. He couldn’t even so much as faze. The electrocution cancelled out his transformation and he returned human. Skulker grabbed him by his hair and put a blade to his throat. “Now,” Skulker said. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

“Enough!” Both Danny and Skulker looked up at the source of the voice. “I didn’t free you to kill the boy, Skulker.” Vlad said. “Your work here is done.”

Skulker quickly stood up straight and sheepishly said, “Yes, well, I’ll just be taking my leave then.” With one final glare at Danny, he went intangible and flew off before he could face any consequences from Vlad.

With Skulker gone, Danny turned back to Vlad and scowled at him. He was starting to figure out what was going on but he still wouldn’t say anything until he was sure.

“I’m sure you’re very confused right now, Daniel,” Vlad said smoothly, walking toward him. “Which isn’t a surprise considering you’re what? Fourteen?” He circled Danny as he talked. “I sent those ghosts, and others, to test your father’s skills. Imagine my surprise when I find you! The second ghost hybrid his foolishness created.”

Well, there it was. The confirmation to Danny's suspicion. He watched as Vlad transformed into the very ghost he fought last night. “Clockwork told me there was one other person like me.” Danny growled.

“Careful, Daniel,” Vlad smirked. “You wouldn’t want your parents hearing you speak such a forbidden language, would you?”

“Let me go.” Danny insisted.

“Why?” Vlad argued. “So you can go back to living in a world where you know, in your heart, you don’t belong to? You don’t need them. I have experience, my child. Clockwork has sheltered you. I could train you, teach you everything I know, and all you’d have to do is one simple thing. Renounce your idiot father. Which, of course, shouldn't be difficult, considering what he did to you. To us.”

This guy couldn’t be serious. Danny actually couldn’t believe what he was hearing. All these years… all these years knowing there was someone out there just like him. Someone who should know exactly what he was going through, Danny often fantasized of finally meeting this person. But now that he has, all he felt was sad, disappointed... Betrayed. “No.”

Vlad tilted his head. “No?”

“No,” Danny repeated, frustrated tears stinging the corners of his eyes. “I’ve known for years there was someone out there just like me and all I’ve ever wanted was to meet them. But now, finally meeting you, and learning the type of person you are, there is no way I’ll join you. I don’t particularly like my father, but I like your motives even less.”

For a moment, Danny could see hurt cross Vlad’s face, but as fast as it appeared it vanished. “Okay, Daniel. If you say so.” Danny watched as Vlad disappeared from sight in one fluid motion.

Once Vlad vanished, Danny tried his best to escape the containment he was trapped in. Not only was it seriously messing with his claustrophobia but not being able to use his powers for the first time in his life was really making him begin to panic. The minutes he was stuck there dragged even if one minute only turned to two. His ghost sense went off again and Danny steeled himself for whatever attack came next.

“Well gosh and golly it looks like you could use a speck of help there, dontcha know?”

But that he was not expecting. Floating before him was the Dairy King, the same one from the portrait at the entrance of the castle. “Uh, yeah…” Danny said. So, the Dairy King did just that, reaching forward and pressing the release button on the box. Danny smiled and kicked it away. “Thank you.”

“Take it from a king, everyone needs help sometime, dontcha know.”

Yes, this Danny knew, and he wanted to ask for help against Vlad, but he could tell this ghost wasn’t a fighter. So, he said, “I really appreciate it but I need to get going now. Nice to meet you!”

As Danny transformed and raced out of the room the Dairy King called after him, “You too, kiddo! Try the gouda, it’s dairy fresh!”

Danny raced to the party room and upon seeing his father hovering two feet off the ground, went intangible and pushed Vlad out of him. They tumbled through the wall to the library on the other side. “Daniel, stop,” Vlad said. “Think about the things I could show you, the doors I could open for you. You, Danny Phantom, and I, Vlad Plasmius.” He clenched a fist. “Together we could rule.”

Danny frowned. “But why?” He asked. “Why do you crave power so bad? Why can’t we just be friends? Why do we have to hurt people?”

Vlad faltered at that. His expression dropped and for a moment, a sadness of his own crossed his eyes. But before he could even respond, the honking of a horn caught both of their attentions and they watched as the Fenton RV crashed through the wall. Danny looked back at Vlad and saw him scowling again. Hatred. Danny realized. It was Vlad’s hatred for Jack Fenton that drove his obsession. Vlad flew to the roof of the RV and pulled Maddie from her seat. “Mind if I cut in?” He said.

“Let go of me!” Maddie insisted.

But Vlad merely replied, “Never again, woman.”

As Danny pulled himself from the rubble, he watched as his father exited the vehicle to chase after Vlad. Danny took the chance to turn invisible and try to work the weapons in the RV himself. He knew he couldn't defeat Vlad on his own and this was his best bet. He figured out how to drive it and aligned the vehicle with Vlad, nearly running over his frantic father in the process.

Danny wished he didn’t have to do this. He didn’t want to. From above, holding Maddie by the ankle, Vlad smirked at him. Well, he'd tried, but Vlad didn't want to listen. So, Danny took hold of the controls and fired the weapon. The first two did not hit but the third one did the trick. As Vlad got pushed away, he let go of Maddie. Quick as a whip, Danny raced to overshadow his father and catch his mother before she hit the ground.

“Jack! You did it!” Maddie exclaimed.

Danny set her down and pointed her to Harriet before running over to Vlad, and lifting him up. “Must it really be like this?” Danny asked.

“As long as Jack draws breath, it must,” Vlad growled.

Danny sighed. “Okay, then. Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to call a truce.”

“And why would I agree to that?” Vlad scoffed.

“Because,” Danny replied. “If you don’t, I’ll walk out of my father right now and expose both of us as ghosts. I’ve lived without my family for ten years, so I can do it again.” He didn’t think about how much he’d miss his sister. “I don’t need to stay with them to protect the humans. But, I know how much you care about my mom, and what would she think if she learned you’re a ghost?”

For a moment, Vlad recoiled, but he quickly recollected himself and smiled. “Using your opponent’s weakness against him? I am teaching you something after all. Very well, truce. Eventually you will join me by choice, once you see that humans aren’t everything you hold them up to be. But for now,” he cleared his throat and prepared to make a show. “Curse you, Jack Fenton! Your world-renowned expertise of all things ghosts has defeated me! Until next time...” Then Vlad disappeared in theatrical fashion.

Danny left his father and flew off to his room.

The moment Danny hit the floor, he dropped to his hands and knees, the purple hood of his ghostly attire blocking his peripherals. Ice blossomed from his hands and spread rapidly across the room. His mind ran a mile a minute and all he wanted to do was run, or rather fly, away. Far away from everything to where it was safe, where it was comfortable. Danny lifted his head and looked around. He needed to pack. He needed to leave this castle. He did just that, and waited until the last possible second before returning to his human form. Danny slung his bag over his shoulder and exited his room. He ran into Jazz as he did, and quickly reached behind him and shut the door before she could see the thin but visible layer of ice covering everything inside.

“Danny?” Jazz said, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“It’s time to leave.”

“Time to…”

“L-E-A-V-E.”

Jazz grimaced. “I already went to pack when I saw them drive the RV inside. I guess you saw that, too.” Danny finally noticed that she too had her bags slung over her shoulder. She slung her free arm around him. “Let’s go home.”

Danny didn’t have time to change out of that awful suit before they left but he did remove the coat and replaced his blue hoodie, pulling the hood up. As they drove, he sat with his legs pulled to his chest, staring down at his tie, the one Vlad had helped him with.

Danny now knew why Clockwork never told him who the other halfa was. Still, he wished Clockwork would’ve at least warned him. But on the other hand, maybe it was better he hadn’t. Danny buried his head in his knees.

So much for finding someone he could relate to.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Ao3 Notes:

Part 2: An Unknown Known World. End.

Look how far we've come! I can't believe we're already at the end of part 2! I hope you have a marvelous day/night!

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

If you’ll humor a poor elderly 28 year old for a bit, I’ve been mad for the past few days and I’d like to vent to someone. The newest Fire Emblem game came out, and since I’ve been Touhou-dodging spoilers, I only just recently looked up the actors for the game. And I found out that they replaced a long-time voice actor for a staple character (Anna), and people were celebrating because the actress is conservative (and like not even VISIBLY conservative, she doesn’t talk politics at ALL) (1)

(2) So people are celebrating her being replaced, right? Well her replacement actress is a “Believe All Victims” woman who suddenly decided not to believe all victims when it was revealed her fiancé is a twice-divorced domestic abuser who has recorded threats of killing one wife’s dog and threatening the other (or the same one, details are fuzzy) that he’d beat her with a TV remote. And she actively defended him and is still engaged to him. (2, I swear 3 will be the last one)

(3) And I know this is a phenomenon that we KNOW is hypocritical bullshit, but I still feel compelled to ask: how are people so vitriolic over someone’s politics that they’d willingly take someone worse? Like… I absolutely don’t care about someone’s politics, so long as they’re not assholes. One of my favorite actors who has a sexy-as-fuck voice is one of those far-left types, I could not give less of a shit so long as he’s not a douchebag or a literal criminal.

First off, exCUSE you with that elderly 28 year old crap. As a 35 year old who just got over turning 30, you shut your youthful, radiant mouth. Enjoy your 20s. Be grateful each day to be further away from your teens.

Now to your actual ask, lol

I'm gonna be making some of assumptions of motivation here, because I can't actually read minds, but for most of these people, it's seems to be because nothing matters more than The Cause. The thing is, The Cause is always changing. Sometimes, The Cause is general left wing politics. In that case, they'll usually ignore or excuse things like abuse or misogyny if they had already previously supported the person accused of those things against an Evil Conservative. (see, Joe Biden killing #MeToo, Bill Clinton raping Juanita Broaddrick, Ted Kennedy and the Car That Wouldn't Stay Out of the Water, etc). Sometimes, The Cause is feminism, in which case being a Democrat or a liberal who does the Wrong Thing might not protect them if they're a man. (See, Johnny Depp) Sometimes The Cause is transgenderism, is which case it doesn't matter how feminist or left wing you are, you must be destroyed for not enthusiastically supporting every aspect of trans rights activism or even associating with anyone who doesn't support every aspect of trans rights activism in even the most tangential ways (see, JK Rowling, Mark Hamill, TERFs in general).

The left, especially the socially conscious left, love eating their own. Their entire movement revolves around punishing the guilty and obsessively checking themselves and others for thoughtcrimes. That kind of frothing mob mentality doesn't leave much room for common sense or self-reflection. Which is exactly what the people at the top pushing these ideas want.

[asukaskerian]

Monthly word count - october

TOTAL: 2 804 ... wow. :| POSTED IN PROGRESS -ichigo/grimm&fraccion ABO (220 words) -bleach suburban ot4 (2 584 words) upside, i managed to plot out more of the madatobiizu ABO, so it's not gonna stay stuck the second i figure out how it starts. downside, i just. can't make myself sit down and write. it seems unless somebody's sitting on me and reminding me every other second that they're waiting for more then it just doesn't happen. and since i don't wanna spam people i've been offering less and less! and i've just not even wanted to get on the computer at all recently. it's annoying as fuck that i'm so out of touch with my highs and lows because the big symptom is being more "meh, who cares" than usual. ugh. UGH.

-- grimmichi ABO (mostly snippets here and there) -- He almost takes an arrow to the face. Black Zangetsu uses the distraction to zip off to the other end of the cliff, proving he can haul ass when he feels inclined. Around and around the gulley they go, dodging and slashing. He doesn't use his arrows again, but Grimmjow isn't too annoyed. He saw what they did to Mayuri and he's -- he's so hot he's dizzy with it, cunt pulsing all the way through his hips; his legs wobble the one time and Zangetsu notices. Fucking embarrassing. But then he slows down, like he's *taking pity*, so Grimmjow goes for it.   -- bleach suburban ot4 -- Problem number two is the way something in his guts jumps to attention every time one of their guests pretends to flirt, as a joke, because it's *so unlikely* it's *funny,* Kurosaki, get your mind out of the fucking gutter. He already knew they were -- visually appealing. But he's never been the kind to make a move on someone based on nothing but a pretty face. But he knows them now. "What would your husband say if he saw us like this," Grimmjow intones as he helps Orihime get a bowl down from the highest shelf, lips quirked up in fond mockery. Orihime giggles. He's looking down at her and his voice isn't pitched to make extra-sure Ichigo knows he's the butt of the joke. It's Orihime he's teasing, not her husband. It feels... Ichigo doesn't have a cuckolding kink, he reminds himself firmly. ... He doesn't think he does, but he doesn't know what else to call it. "Himeeee the zipper got stuck!" Nelliel makes her way down the stairs in one of Orihime's old maternity dresses. It's a calf-length, pleated thing in lavender and pink and it should clash with her teal hair, but -- yeah, it looks good. Orihime rushes over to fiddle with the back of her dress. Ichigo pretends he's not watching, pretends he's not stupidly disappointed when she only lowers the zipper a couple inches and the dress stays right where it is, draped demurely on Nel's shoulders, cupping her breasts with loving bustier-like support, and right underneath flaring out in long pleats over her belly. "Mm, you're really good at getting me out of my clothes," Nel snickers. "You look so much prettier without them!" Orihime manages somehow to reply, eyelashes demurely lowered and blushing so hard her neck flushes too. Ichigo *doesn't have a cuckolding kink.* Nope. Nopenopenope.

[warpedlegacy]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @a11sha11fade! I’ve been making a great deal of progress on my post-Trespasser fic and having a ball figuring out the characters of Cullen’s siblings. Mia was the first to become fleshed out, so here is a little bit from the end of my most recent chapter from While Time Remains: 

“The Inquisition is over,” he confesses flatly. “Disbanded by official decree. Tess is no longer Inquisitor, and I am no longer the Commander of her army.” 

“Maker’s breath…” Mia raises a hand to her mouth as she contemplates all this could mean. “Start at the beginning.” 

He does. The full story takes most of the night to tell, and for once Cullen leaves nothing out. Not even the worst of it. Not even Kinloch Hold or the disasters of Kirkwall. Though it tears old wounds open afresh and leaves his heart bleeding on the table between them, he tells her. He owes Mia this much, for all her years of patient impatience. He’s finished dodging, finished running. He shares burdens heretofore only ever confessed to Tess, in the darkest recesses of their private sanctuaries of Skyhold. 

When at last he has finished, they’ve gone through most of the kettle of tea and a second bowl of stew each. Cullen waits quietly for Mia to collect her thoughts, and the house creaks around them. He feels wrung out, like day-old laundry. Turned inside out and left to dry. He wipes unshed tears away and takes in deep, steadying breaths. It smells of rosemary and root vegetables and lavender in the kitchen, and pine wafts in through the open windows. 

She’s shaken and pale by what he has told her, but where he’d feared pity or anger, he sees only love. Sadness too, yes, but mostly love. 

“I knew it was bad, the way you always dodged my questions, but…” She cuts herself off, leaning back to stare out the window. Crickets chirp and the house creaks. This has been home for her ever since their flight out of Honnleath, he recalls. That’s over a decade ago now. And all that time, what homes Cullen had managed to scrape out of his circumstances have been stripped away, one after the other. 

It will be good to feel settled again. Or… for the first time. 

“So what happens now?” she asks finally. 

He rubs his hands over his face, through his hair, then tilts his head up to the ceiling. “I wish I knew.” 

“Well, I hope it goes without saying, but you can both take your ease here for as long as you need.” 

“Thank you.” It means so much to him, this easy hospitality, and he wonders at how foreign a concept it’s become since first leaving home. 

But something has Theresa quietly terrified, he can tell. And he strongly suspects it has to do with the reason she's lost the Anchor. And the person behind it. He swallows the name like a bitter drink, before its taint can poison this moment. But it echoes through his mind anyway. The same question that’s been plaguing him since Halamshiral. 

Solas… What have you done to her?

Tagging @dreadfutures and @kantrips, but as always no pressure! <3

[dlthedescent]

some Descent headcanons

So thanks to @thatguyender​ for starting this, I made two lists: a skill tree list for Mad Jack, my OC kickboxer, and a skill tree list for Freakazoid. I’ve had these thoughts way at the start - since when I first started the fic, I also thought of it game-design-wise - but never really sat down and wrote them out.

Though I expect myself to put a balance patch cuz I might have overdone it for Freakazoid... Eh. shrugs

First off, Mad Jack, my DL OC, Crane’s wingmate/crazy partner and Descent deuteragonist. She’s in a manner of speaking, a jack of all trades but also a skilled brawler. I do see her having some abilities/skills like old human Crane’s (power, survival, agility) because she is still a human fighter thrown in the same situation as he was (and not an overpowered infected). She’s no mercenary, though but she makes up by being crafty like a con artist.

Power

- Professional kickboxing brawler for 9 years (give or take). As true to her name, Mad Jack the Wild Dog, she can be a real berserker in combat. And when need to be defensive, tai chi (a lil hobby she took up in recent years) so that she can divert attacks thrown at her. 

- She's ambidextrous. Able to use double weapons faster and effective than Crane would one handed weapon.

- She has a couple of power moves like Crane's. A suplex move, a roundhouse kick, maybe a dual wielding move etc. Can even put a man in a head choke

- She knows how to use guns. Had used them in the past. But she actually won't use guns right now (there's reason to my madness here, story purpose). If in game, her skill in using firearms would be the last thing unlockable down the tree. And if unlocked, added with her ambidexterity, she can be very deadly. She can use bows easily btw.

Agility

- Almost on par to old Crane's parkour skills (had learned them from her cous), relearning the ropes and such.

 - More agile in combat and escaping/dodging than on parkour, where she puts her energy into.

 - She has high tolerance to pain. Like a berserker, she can endure being inflicted when in a pinch.

- Taunts, bring the fight to her and not to other people.

- Thanks to tai chi, she can regenerate stamina faster (have a mental moment to get like a second wind) 

- Will bite. Helps her get out of a sticky situation

Survivor

- Not a pro survival expert unlike someone who puts corpse grime onto himself. But willing to learn if it means surviving (doesn't mean she likes it)

- She has an eye for detail and is very resourceful, something from her past job. Which means she has better chance in looting than human Crane.

- Good with her words, twice good at bartering/haggling with shops (except with the Ravs. They know her tricks)

- She pickpockets. In battle, out of battle. She literally pulled a flash grenade off a Demolisher's body while being chased by it

- (tw blood, was a little unsure about putting this down) With her blood perk (poisonous to anyone infected), she can coat a bit on her weapons just by running her bloodied thumb/finger on it. Preferably sharp weapons work best.

- Open to new ideas on devices and tools if they can help with her survival. Example, the ascenders from the Junction. Plus only way to keep up with Freakazoid.

- Uses methods and tools that’s meant to distract enemies or lure them to a location. Examples: loud devices, fire alarms, her taunting.

Next up, Freakazoid (aka Kyle Crane as Sentient Day Hunter/Volatile).

And oh boy this is a long list. I might have given Jack more work as his teammate than I anticipated... Oh well. I’ll nerf him later.

Also, I took some liberty to base his infected passive and active abilities on the Night Hunter. With inspiration on other games’ abilities cough.

Power

- He still has the standard moves, windmill, drop kick, etc. Plus some Hunter moves like Arial Ground Pound, leapfrog, etc. In a way, he fights like his old self with new tricks as an Sentient infected. A super soldier 

- Pick claws or fists anywhere, anytime. Claws swipe faster, dealing damage faster than punches but of course, punches hit harder.

- Has tendrils like a Hunter so can grapple an enemy (anything weaker than a volatile) to bring them right to him so that he can smash their head to the ground. Can also pull himself to an enemy (anything stronger than a Viral/Biter/Common) and literally kick them.

- He has a blade bone on his right and now a bone-spike gun on his left. That doesn't mean they're more effective than normal weapons or that he can't use weapons - they just serve as being convenient. He can use weapons but they break faster than normal human Crane would (which means future craftsmen gotta make him weapons suitable for his strength. Note to self, make that for side quests)

- With his infected side, can get a defense and power boost like Jack's second wind ability

- Charge into a large group like a bulldozer, stunning his enemies (edited)

Agility

- Also has the same agility moves as his old self, but with some new tricks as well. 

- Can wall run, wall latch, wall climb far better than Aiden. Talons sharp enough to latch on a wall longer than Aiden can stay in the air.

- With tendril locomotion, can dart around fast but still hindered with turns/rotations like the Night Hunter. Escape is also more convenient by tendril. He can yeet himself out of combat.

- Faster health regen than his old self at night, slower in day. All thanks to his infected side.

- Instantly leaps onto an opponent like a Night Hunter but rather than sinking teeth down, he snaps the neck

Survivor

- He has some of his old skills, minus his haggle/talk for the time being. Jack helps him with that until he finds people not too freaked out by him. You know, because of his new body situation?

- Still can do throwing stars - because why wouldn't you want an infected throwing shuriken like Genji?

- Has the infrared eyesight of an infected where he can see human enemies behind walls. This can be switched on and off game-mechanic-wise and isn't effective in daylight.

- Not just with camouflage, can land critical stealth skills after being cloaked or in darkness.

 - UV resistance/block duration increase down his skill tree.

Infected - this is a new branch on Crane’s skill tree I made as a category, special thanks to Ender for the idea. Since there are some things like mutations, his telepathic way of communication, and skills/abilities that don’t fit with the other three categories entirely (even though the above, it’s a harmonic mixture between his old and new self)

- Pretty much higher defense (iron skin), higher attack (claws), faster regen, better scenes (can track infected/human easy like a bloodhound)

- Howls, can inflict fear into humans and staggers enemies. Good with clearing space against groups

 - With his mutations, he can be undying in combat (final passive skill in the tree). This gets reset back to normal until the next fight. He can also give this to his infected allies, namely Jack (concept in the works btw, may not be included), a sorta telepathic link to them to prevent them from dying.

- Tempted to give passive ability that he can feast on infected to regain back some health, considering the kind of person in the past to eat anything he grabs in the middle of an outbreak. Jack will most likely stop him on that. Or not. She can't completely control this beast.

-- Below are skills not lockable on the tree but gained after defeating a rare type of enemy; Sentient Volatiles.

- Invisibility - his first infected skill he starts with. Can go invisible as long as he has stamina to burn. Helps with his crit stealth kills. Uninfected human enemies can still see him however.

- Rage - Lets out the beast from within, as long as he has stamina to burn.

- Doppelganger - second infected skill, gained after defeating another sentient Volatile like him. Creates a shadow to distract enemies off him (similar to Mother's fight with her clones)

- Other newer skills he'll obtain after defeating three other Sentient Volatiles, in the works currently. 

and a sidenote from story; he has this territory bubble where his presence makes infected not want to come to him. So his presence helps safezones be warded off from troubling infected. Didn't know if should have been under infected branch

And that’s it.

God this post is so long...

[teamrocketmemes]

[ LUXIEM 1ST ANNIVERSARY ] PART 2 

In honor of Luxiem’s first anniversary, this is a sentence starter from this Vox Akuma VOD where they reminisce about old phrases they all have said in a game format. I’m taking both the phrases discussed specifically as well as other funny quips said during the stream. Content warning for mild language. Feel free to change pronouns if necessary.

“He’s preparing a feast for the eyes.”

“I just honk–”

“I turn into xQc when I’m drunk…”

“I just want a tiebreaker.”

“Farting in the Houses of Parliament should be allowed.”

“I’ve never heard this person say it but I know who it is.”

“I need to mega brain this.”

“I wanna give him an extra point just for that!!”

“He got style points.”

“Get in that chair, boy. I’m gonna start twerking.”

“It is a collab.”

“I’M TAKING THE BAIT!!!”

“All of the wise cracks and everything, [name] is giving us none of that because his raw concentration goes into his art.”

“Some letters are just impossible to draw with a mouse.”

“I keep on getting jebaited.”

“Half a sus.”

“Man, I hate being the host. I can’t draw amoguses.”

“Maybe I’ll treat you like my homework, slam you on the desk and do you all night.”

“How do you keep coming up with thess elaborate art pieces??”

“I think he’d make a great fun uncle one day.”

“Everyone knows about this. I regret it. I blame Hetalia and Tumblr. Let’s move on.”

“You may not repent for your sins. The internet is forever.”

“I definitely didn’t come up with this.”

“The slow fade in… Of the monkey…”

“I’m just a stupid boy and I’m learning.”

“I need the originator.”

“I don’t know if [name] is thinking or drawing or both at the same time.”

“I love that this implies he can’t do both.”

“He’s commissioning somebody to draw this for him.”

“There’s no way I could come up with something that hilarious on the fly.”

“Much to my dismay, I am cockless.”

“I had to restart my whole canvas. It was lagging.”

“This man is acting as though paint has layers.”

“This man needs to put his ambitions aside for the good of the game.”

“Oh yes, papi, skin me!”

“What does papi even mean??”

“It’s their equivalent of the word Daddy.”

“If this is me, I’m going to eat my own toes.”

“We pronounce it in the most dumb way you can imagine.”

“I reverted back to… My mind.”

“We gotta express ourselves through paint.”

“What we’re witnessing right now is [name]’s schizophrenia zone.”

“Wait— This is not what the Tactical Nuke icon looks like.”

“Is that a chair or is that a toilet??”

“If Santa isn’t real, who fucked my wife??”

“Aren’t you scared of some guy coming in your house??”

“No, because he was getting me a Nintendo.”

“He never gave me a loving family.”

“Do you need to have a conversation with somebody?? Are you ok??”

“I keep screaming but God won’t answer.”

“This sounds like Grade A dodging the question.”

“I mean, no one dodges better than [name].”

“I gotta fix my work real quick.”

“I literally found out recently why you can’t see Santa Claus.”

“He knows when you’re awake.”

“Is that your thought process??”

“Booba booba booba.”

“He’s forgetting his own history.”

“Burning hotter than YOUR MOM.”

“Is this a bait??”

“It’s always guys from Birmingham.”

“He’s very delicately flicking [name]’s hair.”

“It makes sense number-wise but in practicality not so much.”

“I mate sometimes. I’ll mate you.”

“OOOOOOH I thought it was talking about chess.”

“I’VE NEVER SEEN IT IN ENGLISH.”

“Lick me and let me explode inside your mouth.”

“I panicked and I gave you guys the answer.”

“READING A LINE FROM A GAME ISN’T MY QUOTE.”

“My people have a saying… Live laugh love.”

“Live laugh ligma.”

“You’re not doing the Krabby Patty thing.”

“WE’RE FROZEN!! THEY CAN’T SEE HOW DISAPPOINTED I AM!!”

“I’m so glad that I destroyed [name]’s mood.”