#I'm not even sure he's alive anymore. I think it's been four years since my family member moved their horse and his fur was graying then

[jorvikzelda]

GOD my heart aches every time I see the black Dartmoor

[stsgluver]

I'M HERE – gojo satoru

synopsis. reluctantly, you agree to a new life with two children and your ex. PART TWO OF FOUR.

wc. 3.4k

tags. angst, swearing, happy ending-ish, spoilers for s2

“get out.”

satoru flinches at the coldness in your tone, and you want to scoff. as if though he gets to be the one who’s hurt right now. your hands ache and your head feels like it’s imploding as you struggle to take in everything he says. it’s too much, too important, too soon.

a year has passed but you’ve barely had the chance to accept how cruel he’d been when he pushed you away, like you had meant nothing. like you hadn’t spent almost three years side-by-side, majority of that as his girl. 

gojo satoru is someone who always got what he wants – and he got you. he had all of you: mind, body, and soul… but that wasn’t enough for him. you weren’t enough for him. 

“yn–” again, he tries reaching for you and, again, you reject the advancement, standing up abruptly to ensure you can keep the space between the two of you. you swallow thickly and point towards your half open door. gojo’s eyes don’t follow the direction of your hand, instead staying intently on your face as he indulges himself in his favourite picture, even if that picture is stained with damp streaks.

“get out,” you repeat slowly. he needs to leave you in peace again – or whatever peace you’d come to accept after his sudden departure from your orbit. as much as you hate him, your body and mind is still intuitive with his. it feels wrong to watch him cry and not try and comfort him, and from his actions and the way his hands remain stiff at his sides, fidgeting with the material of his pants, you know he feels the same.

after all he just confessed his love for you, you’re aware of how he feels. but you don’t know what he’s thinking and that terrifies you.

“please.” he is begging, the strongest sorcerer alive is pleading for you, but you’re not sure what he expects you to say. i love you? let’s get back together? yes, i’ll totally take care of that monster’s children with you? i’m totally fine even though my best friend decided to murder a tonne of people and then you broke up with me and then i spent 12 months trying not to die on insane missions that i was sent on because the higher ups hate me and i don’t have you as a buffer anymore?

you scoff, arms crossing in front of as you roll your eyes at his ignorance to your suffering, “gojo satoru, i swear to go–”

“woah, woah, what’s going on in here?” 

your eyes dart to the door and you have never been so happy to hear the voice of your dear friend, shoko ieiri. in one hand is her usual unlit cigarette (she swears she’s quitting for real this time, she just needs the comfort of one in her hand), and in the other is her phone. you assume she must’ve been distracted by a call and that’s why he was able to come into the room and not her.

since satoru had put up this wall between the two of you, shoko had been your shoulder to lean on and you know she wouldn’t have just let him waltz in without her support. you thought he was your person, and shoko had watched as you fell apart alone and without him.

you don’t want to know what you look like if it’s anywhere close to how horrible you feel right now. your heart aches and every stitch you had made to patch back together your heart are slowly coming loose. there’s probably mascara running down your cheeks by this point and you’re thirty more seconds of being in satoru’s presence from breaking down into full on sobs as you relive the loss of him and geto.

shoko, your saviour and rock for the past twelve months, comes to your rescue. “what are you going here?” she asks in an accusatory tone towards satoru, head tilted with a raised brow. it hadn’t just been you that satoru had pushed away twelve months ago – it had been everyone. but you know that shoko has still managed to maintain some relationship with him, and from the way his shoulder deflates, he’s smart enough to not burn that bridge too.

“leaving,” satoru responds curtly, brushing past shoko as he makes his swift exit. well, his infinity brushes past shoko and she flips his back the middle finger as she’s gently pushed aside by the invisible force.

you drop down onto your back on your empty bed, both hands covering your face as you try to relax your heartbeat again that runs high wire. you’d be lying if you said you don’t miss satoru; miss seeing him in your room after a long mission or long day of lessons; miss waking up to his raspy voice as he pokes you in the side to wake you up for class; miss being loved by him.

“i thought he was still giving you the silent treatment.”

peeking between your fingers, you glance over to shoko who’s flicking through your open boxes full of your life of the last four years. “i wish he still was,” you admit, voice a little more stable now that you’re not in the middle of crying. the tears have stopped but your cheeks are still flushed red. “has he really taken in fushiguro’s kids?” 

“one’s his, the other is his step daughter,” shoko responds, as though that is common knowledge.

you frown, sitting back up, hands in your lap. “you knew then?” shoko pauses her snooping but doesn’t look back at you. if there’s one thing you and satoru still have in common, is lashing out when you’re upset. ironic given how much you hate him for it. 

“he has… changed. y’know, since geto,” shoko clarifies. the name itself makes you bite down on your tongue and the never ending ache you’re enduring reminds you why you need to leave this place.

“no shit,” you bite back and shoko gives you a blank look. “i’m sorry.” she’d been with you every night for the first month following the break up, she is the reason you are still alive following your sudden increase in mission difficulty. she had been the first to talk shit about satoru or throw random objects at him and just hope his infinity just so happened not to be active (it always was).

“don’t apologise, say whatever you want to me,” shoko shrugs, offering you a sad smile, “i’ll never leave.” three simple words that hold more meaning than you could’ve ever comprehended twelve months ago.

“thank you, love you always.” the two of you share a brief hug (shoko’s never been one for overtly physical affection). 

“good,” shoko pulls back first, checking her phone before waving it in your face. there’s a message but you can’t make it out as she shakes the screen, “now more importantly, are you ready to go? nanami said that he wants to take the next train into the city.”

“can you just give me a minute?” you gesture to the last boxes that you needed to close up – the school had been kind enough to sort out the removal of your belongings (shocker) so all you need to do is just get to the airport and make your plane. 

“of course,” shoko nods understandingly. the split in your class had only led to the two of you coming closer. blood aside, she is and would always be your sister. you know she isn’t happy that you’re quitting sorcery but she knows she can’t keep you happy here, so she’s kept her complaints to herself. 

there’s a soft click as your door closes and you breathe out a sigh of relief. satoru’s words still sit at the back of your mind (‘i love you, i’ve got two kids’ – like what?!), and then you flinch as you remember the wounds that have only just healed on your arm – one of which being a large gash that would’ve killed you had you not been so close to the school when you’d been caught off guard by the curse. this world isn’t for you. 

maybe in another life, one where geto never left the school and satoru never left you, but that is not this life.

grabbing your tape, you go to close the box that shoko had been flicking through when the flash of a familiar photo catches your eye. you hesitate but ultimately that feeling of home consumes you and you can’t stop yourself from lifting the frame from the box. 

it’s you and satoru and geto and shoko and nanami and even haibara.

you remember when the photo was taken: the middle of summer in your second year. satoru and geto had forgone their uniform jackets, the former having one arm around the latter and the other around you. shoko is next to geto and the two second years follow after them. she’s wearing satoru’s glasses as she often did steal them. you’re all smiling – even nanami – and you can’t stop yourself from mirroring the same expression.

those were better times, one where the responsibility and stress of being a sorcerer was only a whispered warning. within a short period that would all fall apart. your teenage years cut short and your innocences stolen following fushiguro toji’s attack.

fushiguro…

you think of his children, the life they will never be able to have because of the thing they are associated with, and the power they've inherited. the children that your ex boyfriend has oh so generously taken in. 

it’s still ingrained in your mind; the sound of geto’s voice over the phone as he struggled to breathe, let alone speak. riko is dead, satoru is dead. that’s all he could repeat over, and over, and over, again. it had been shoko he’d called put you’d been there as she put it on speaker. if it weren’t for nanami being beside you you would’ve collapsed to your knees as you refused to accept what he was saying.

the next few hours were a blur, shoko saving geto, geto going to retrieve satoru, satoru being alive… 

he changed after that. it wasn’t overly apparent, not just to anyone, but you were his girlfriend. he’d reached a state of ‘enlightenment’, as he called it, his cursed technique now far superior to any other sorcerer alive (not that it wasn’t already).

the seven of you never deserved what happened to you – haibara especially never deserved to have his life cut short and the more you remember, the more you decide these children don’t deserve that either.

you bite down on your lip as you realise the conclusion that you’re beginning to come to. one that you’re not 100% sure you won’t regret in the coming months. 

to nanami: i’m sorry i’m not going to make it on the train

from nanami: don’t worry, shoko already let me know you’d probably changed your mind

from nanami: stay safe x

you smile down at your phone. nanami is the closest you’ll ever get to a little brother and even if you’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life, you’re glad he’s escaping this hell.

to unknown: meet me at the old park.

from unknown: what about your plane?

to unknown: 2pm

it’s for those kids, you remind yourself, not for him.

despite being the one to choose the meeting location and time, you’re late and you’re already almost in tears yet again. the park was a regular for you, satoru, geto and shoko as teens. shoko and geto would climb up onto the roof of the public bathrooms to smoke whilst satoru made you push his lanky frame on the big swings. those nights practically always ended at dawn, and no matter how sneaky the four of you thought you were, yaga always caught you sneaking back onto the school campus.

things were so much simpler and you were so happy. a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions your experiencing now.

you’d chosen the park to give yourself an advantage, to remind satoru of the memories he could only remember and never relive. it was his fault he’d lost that…

…though even as you think that you know that you’re putting him at too much fault. everything was lost the second geto chose to make the first kill. none of you could’ve stopped that.

shaking your head and brushing your hands down the front of your clothes to brush off the invisible dust and compose yourself, your eyes scan the park for a white haired beanpole and two children. 

it’s not difficult to find the children as the boy – megumi, you think shoko said (she’d given you a quick debrief of what satoru had told her about the children over the phone on your walk there) – is a mini version of his dad. a shudder ran down your spine involuntarily the instant your eye caught sight of the spiky-haired boy. you try to push away the unease; it’s likely megumi barely even knows or remembers his dad, or at least you hope for his sake he doesn’t. either way it’s not far for you to cast judgement yet. the sister is close behind him, running circles around a slide four times their heights.

satoru is sitting on a bench, his gaze focused on the two small children. well, you assume so since that's the way his head is turned. he’s wearing his usual black glasses and tokyo uniform. to any outsider, he looks bored, like an older brother forced to take care of his siblings as his long limbs lounge on the bench. but you know better – his knee is bouncing and he keeps running one hand through his white hair, revealing an undercut beneath it. he’s just as stressed as you are. 

good, as he should be.

he knows you're there. he’s a special grade sorcerer after all, probably the most powerful of them all, he must’ve sensed your cursed energy the second you came within a mile of this place. still, he doesn’t turn his head, even as you walk down the path to him. 

though somewhere deep down you still long for him and what you had, every step closer you feel the same anger and resentment towards him bubbling up and threatening to spill over the surface. meeting him in a public area with impressionable children’s ears around is definitely not your finest idea. you’re within several yards from him now and you’re really starting to think this is a bad idea. 

satoru is a bad idea.

sitting gingerly on the edge of the bench next to him, you pick quietly at the skin around your nails. neither of you speak for several minutes. satoru still seems too afraid to even acknowledge that you’re there. he’s woken up too many times from a dream with you in his arms to an empty bed that he lay in alone, no trace of your perfume on the other side of the bed anymore.

the tension between you two is thick and palpable. 

“they’re cute kids.” you’re the one to break the silence as the two of them begin climbing a spider web apparatus. satoru hums in agreement and his knee slowly halts its bouncing. 

there’s two beats before you let your frustration spill over the edge. “you’re a dick you know that?” so much for your concern about doing this in this locatiom.

satoru’s mouth slacks a little, and he begins to utter something but you shake your head at him to cut him off.

“that was rhetorical. there’s no defending or denying that. it’s fact,” you laugh dryly, crossing your arms in front of yourself as you watch on at the park. in the corner of your eyes, you can see satoru slip off his glasses revealing his own cerulean eyes to you. you avoid them though, if you are going to stay and make this work you need to get all of this off your chest. and preferably without balling your eyes out again. 

“i cried a lot at first,” you continue, “blamed myself for suguru turning away,” he winces and does so again when you cement that point, “blamed myself for taking your best friend from you. i started having those nightmares of haibara calling me a murderer again.” he knows every word you say is true – he caused the former and he would be the one you’d come to when the latter had first started. it breaks his heart to be reminded of the agony he caused you – how he wasn’t there to pick up the pieces from the damage he caused.

following haibara’s death, there were some nights neither of you would get any sleep. you were afraid of what you’d see when you closed your eyes and satoru was afraid of losing you. so he would stay up with you, more often than not sitting against the backboard of the bed, your body curled up tightly against his as you watched funny compilations on his phone (he thought they were hilarious, you just wanted to hear his laugh). for satoru to throw that back in your face after geto’s defection tarnished any comfort you’d ever associated with him. 

it didn’t matter that he’d carved a permanent spot in your heart, the idea of letting him in that close again sends shudders down your spine. he had you in the palm of his hands and he destroyed you.

you take a deep breath and dare to glance over at satoru. his expression is blank but his eyes scream how he feels, the swirls of blue glassy as you relay all that he put you through. 

he had been aware of the hurt he’d caused you – of course he had, he felt it too – seen it on your face when you’d pass him in the hallways. you lacked enthusiasm in class and often went on missions alone without complaint (something you never previously did because how dare the higher-ups send you on a job hours away without anyone to talk to).

“and then i nearly died.” satoru’s brows furrow at this, he’d still kept tabs on you to a certain extent. so how had this slipped through the cracks? “two grade one curses among other nuisances,” you hum, “i shouldn’t have been there alone… but i wasn’t surprised the higher ups had sent me.” there’s something else missing there, how you would’ve never been sent on such a mission of satoru was still with you. the higher ups hated the power you held over their special grade, but they weren’t stupid enough to put you in significant harm’s way when you were together. 

“i’m sor–”

“gojo! can we get some ice cream?” tsumiki runs up to the two of you, cutting off his futile attempt at an apology. her little cheeks are flushed red from the exercise and megumi pokes his head out from behind her, eyes zeroed in on you. 

“who are you?” 

you flicker your gaze between satoru and the children who are awaiting your answer. for once, the white-haired sorcerer is at a loss for words. you want to scoff. 

standing up, you offer a small smile, “just a friend.” you point to the ice cream parlour on the opposite side of the park and nudge satoru’s shoulder gently, “go treat them to ice cream. we can talk about the logistics of this later.”

“this?” he repeats, sitting up straight, and a flash of hope dashes across his features. “so you’re staying?” 

tsumiki’s eyes are bright and full of excitement at the prospect of a treat and it reminds you of haibara. you blink harshly and quickly as you try not to let a tear slip past.

“they deserve better than what we had.” what you had.

series masterlist

a/n. next part will defo be the longest part!! expect fluff, angst, some spice, the whole SHEBANG. I have mocks coming up soon but I'm hoping the next instalment will be up in the next 3-4 weeks. thank you all for being so patient and I hope this meets expectations <3

also a massive thank you to @bontensh0e because they massively helped with the inspo for the rest of the series. ly loads <333

taglist. @sanokiss. @dummyf. @erenssin. @makiuchiha97. @sosoa. @cole-silas. @fenrysashryver. @istanuwow. @dovahkiinsbitch. @mor-pheus. @creolequeen11210. @thefictionalcharacterssimp. @mariapierce789. @cynopcis.

[scarisd3ad]

In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman

pairing - steve harrington x fem!reader

summary - "But if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us and if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once, and if I'm gonna be drunk might as well be drunk in love."

(A/N) - happy kind of late Valentine's Day lol, but here is a cute little fic based off of my favorite 1989 tv vault track.

Warnings - slut shaming, cursing, drinking

Masterlist

"Are you sure? I know you don't really like these kinds of things anymore," I say with a sigh. Steve and I are parked out in front of some random junior's house. Ever since Steve had graduated this May, he wasn't really in the party scene anymore. It might have been just because he was always busy working, or with the kids though, or maybe he wanted to leave his high school self behind. I was a year younger than Steve so I still being in high school wanted to party my senior year away before subsequently going to college next August.

I wanted him here for some type of protection from the men who frequented these parties. When I didn't have someone, I could claim as my 'boyfriend' they'd have their grimy little hands all over me. Luckily, this time I had my actual boyfriend. "it's fine," he whispers, grabbing my hand and giving it a little squeeze before removing the keys from the ignition and getting out of the car.

As we walk up to the front door, I can feel the chill in the air seeping through the thin fabric of the dress I'm wearing. The dress, which I thought would be perfect for the occasion, now seems like a poor choice, given the unforgiving October winds. I shiver uncontrollably as a strong gust of wind blows past us, sending my hair flying in all directions. The coldness of the wind is so biting that I almost regret leaving the house without a jacket.

Steve reaches out and grabs my hand as he pushes the front door open. As we approached the house, the booming sound of music and the constant buzz of voices could be heard from the outside. I could feel the beat of the music reverberating through my body as I made my way to the door. However, as soon as the door opened, the volume seemed to increase tenfold, making it difficult to hear anything else. The house was alive with energy, pulsing with the rhythm of the music and the excitement of the people inside.

The house seemed to be getting more and more crowded as we made our way further into the house. As we ventured deeper into the house, the once spacious and airy rooms gradually became cramped and stuffy. The air was thick with the scent of cheap booze, sex, and teenage sweat.

Although Steve had been gone from the hallways of Hawkins High for almost an entire semester Everyone still fawned over Steve Harrington the same way they had been for the past four years. sophomore girls, smile and wave as they send him flirty winks that are paired with a "hii Steve" which makes me roll my eyes each time, even freshman girls bat their eyelashes at him and wave shyly. god, sometimes I wished my boyfriend wasn't as popular as he was.

"Wasn't she with Eddie Munson last weekend?" I hear one girl ask as Steve and I pass by them. Luckily or unluckily, Steve stops to talk to one of his old basketball friends so I can hear the rest of their conversation. "No, no, that was the weekend before that last weekend she was with…what's his name fuck Sam…Samuel gives" The other girl, a brunette I recognized as a junior who was in p.e with me, says. The other one was a blonde that I don't particularly recognize but I knew I'd probably seen her around at least once laugh a big belly laugh before scoffing "fucking slut, didn't realize Steve was into those types of girls, especially after Nancy wheeler" it hurt but 'slut' was something most girls including me have been called more than once.

When I'm using my male friends as human shields at parties, I never thought about how other girls would think about me. It's not like I really cared anyway (I did). "Dresses like one too, who even thinks of wearing something like that" I looked down at my dress, maybe it was a little over the top, but there were other girls here dressed similarly in tiny dresses that barely covered their asses, most were shorter than mine. So why was I getting judged for my dress when Heather Blake was in the tiniest red dress I've ever seen as she was grinding up against Daren Russel?

"When I was getting dressed earlier, I thought the dress looked cute. It was smaller than what I usually wear, and I was a bit scared that I might draw more attention to myself than I'd like. But I thought, "if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us". But now, after being called a slut, I was rethinking that mindset. "Hey Stevie, I'm gonna go get a drink kay?" he nods. "Yeah hon, can you get me a beer?" I hum quietly as I nod before walking off towards the kitchen.

There are a few girls, freshmen, who are taking shot after shot. Their boyfriends must have been seniors because normally freshmen aren't invited to parties like this. "Hey, can I have some of that?" I ask. All three girls are hammered, slurring out their words and stumbling around, "Y-yeahhh girl hereeee!" one shouts over the music as she hands me a prefilled disposable shot glass. The liquid inside is clear, making me assume it's vodka. I might as well be drunk if I was going to be overthinking those girls' conversation the entire night. I lean my head back as I take the shot, letting it burn down the back of my throat.

The three girls are giggling as the middle one, who is way smaller than me in height and weight, boldy downs two shots in a row before shouting "Wooooo!!!" which makes me internally cringe for her. "Hey, can I have another?"

7 shots in and I'm drunk as a motherfucker. The three girls had since gone, mumbling a quiet excuse about how all three of their mothers were going to be pissed in. They didn't get the littlest sobered up fast. So that left me with about half a bottle of vodka.

"Hey baby, thought you were bringing me a beer" Two familiar arms wrap around my torso which makes me drunkenly smile and turn around in his arms. "I wa-wasss," I slurred as I leaned my head against his shoulder, "but got distr-distracted," I said with a giggle. Steve sighs softly as he takes my face in his hands "You're drunk honey" I roll my eyes playfully giggling a quiet "duhhh" his thumb caresses my cheek as his eyes fall behind me at the empty shot glasses and now about quarter-filled vodka bottle. "Shit, honey, how much was in that bottle? " I shrugged as I watched the two girls who had been talking about me earlier walk into the kitchen, both giggling as they looked me up and down.

I frown as I look up into his big brown eyes, which are filled with concern. "Am I a slut?" I whispered softly. Despite my best efforts to not let those girls' words get to me; they had been unknowingly eating away at me all night. "What? who…who told you that? Why the fu-" I shrug as my bottom lip pops out in a pout. "Honey, you're not a slut. And if you were, I wouldn't care because as long as you're my girl, I'll be the happiest man alive. " If I'm gonna be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.

[snarky-wallflower]

okay. i'm finally gonna try my hand at this analysis thing. @kmesons, i hope you don't mind that i've been spinning this in my head since yesterday.

for a bit of context, it's a bit of a running joke that i'm in my "curtwen arc" with a bunch of people - just a silly joke, right? and i always, always play curt.

oh boy, i don't think anything stays a joke in the spies fandom for long.

so. let's talk about how curt has been mourning a ghost for four years. let's talk about how he replayed the memories of their time together over and over again in his mind, of laughter and quick shots and the love there. let's talk about how curt has tried to commit every part of the owen he knew to memory - after all, "owen would want me to do this, so i know that i'll get through this". let's talk about how curt has spent four years lost in drink and regret and the memories of the man he thinks he killed. those memories are all he has left of owen - what else can he cling to?

let's talk about how curt saw owen for the first time, alive, and was taken aback by the sheer hate in owen's voice as he made reference after reference to the fall, casually insulting curt, calling him a fool and a coward. about how owen had given up on the beliefs that had first brought them together.

(the owen he knew never would have done that. the owen he knew was one of the few people he knew that treated him as an adult, as someone who was more than just a cocky spy. )

let's talk about curt chasing after owen, chasing after a ghost - but this time, he's physical, alive and real. curt could reach out and touch him this time, if he wasn't so sure that owen would take it as a strike, a blow to hurt. curt isn't even sure if it isn't that yet. owen still won't stop taunting curt, dragging him ever-so-closer to the edge, as a spiralling pit opens up in curt's stomach. owen is so cruel, so unlike the man he lost four years ago. the memories they shared are dissolving, falling just like owen did, as every insult, every blow reopens old wounds.

old wounds that owen had once helped him stitch together.

(the owen he knew would have rolled his eyes, would have made snippy comments as they traded blows, but he had loved curt. curt knows this like he knows the back of his hand. it's been four years. has he been wrong all this time?)

(god, what does it mean if he has been?)

curt has spent so long sustaining himself on memories of the time they shared that he just can't look at owen and not see the man he used to be. curt doesn't even blame owen for hating him, really. curt hates himself most days, too. but this? what about the beliefs they shared? what about making a difference? on the staircase, he can barely look owen in the eyes anymore, so utterly terrified of seeing what the man he loved has become. a poltergeist, a revenant, something dead walking the earth with hate in his heart. how he rants and raves, trying to get curt to see, which curt utterly refuses to. curt tries so frantically to reach out, to make owen someone he can save, but owen will never, ever be that person for curt again. there are so many versions of this scene, aren't there? but in this one, in so many, in every world where curt and owen simply cannot communicate--

(the owen he knew doesn't exist anymore.)

let's talk about how curt raised his gun. at the man he loved, at the man he spent so long mourning.

let's talk about how curt stared up at owen, raising his gun to his temple, and recognized both so much and so little in those eyes, in him. let's talk about how he recognized the spark in owen's eyes, but not the sheer betrayal behind it. how he knew the exact colour of those eyes, but not the tremble in owen's voice as he demanded to know what curt was doing.

the man he loved wasn't there anymore.

let's talk about how curt pulled the trigger.

let's talk about how curt has to live with that for the rest of his life, but he still pulled the trigger. how owen carvour after the fall was someone curt couldn't save, who didn't want to be saved.

...but especially not by curt.

after mourning a ghost for four years, agent curt mega ended it for good.

agent curt mega killed a ghost. but he killed a ghost with owen's face and owen's wit, owen's anger - you can't break the will of a man, but you can do so much worse, if you try. and oh, how curt's tried to destroy himself over the years. how he's just now destroyed the shell of a man that he built his love around, and then his grief, and then both again as owen carvour falls to the floor.

it will haunt curt. for however much longer he lives.

spies aren't forever. curt knows this better than anyone.

[feronaville]

im deep down on megamassikalove's blog cc shopping n saw her participate in an ask game thingie n i wanna do it too even tho its like a year old LMAOO bc it looks fun n i rarely see them on my dash!

1. What’s your favourite sims death? old age ,, boring answer but i love my sims man they my babies fr any other death genuinely upsets me

2. Alpha CC or Maxis Match? maxis match altho i do sorta uhh maxis mix i think it's called sometimes, really i download whatever i like (mostly maxis match) i just want everything in simlish fr

3. Do you cheat when your sims gain weight? i like when my sims gain weight bc that's how i get my body diversity but if their outfit doesnt have fat morph n i dont wanna change their outfit i do cheat it sometimessss but not very often

4. Do you use move objects? move objects is enabled in my game alwayss

5. Favorite mod? honestly im not sure! im def a big acr fan but that's just the first one that comes to mind, there's soooo many must haves imo!

6. First expansion/game/stuff pack you got? both sims 2 pets n sims 2 seasons! my auntie bought them for us, i got soooo excited about pets n lil ol me asked her, "woah can we get monkeys??" LMAOO

7. Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing? i pronounce it like aLIVE

8. Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? REESE BULLARD!! he was in my very first bacc years ago, he had more personality than any of my other sims ever had he was so silly

9. Have you made a simself? i have! i made one in sims 2 back in like 2018 but she didnt look like me fr haha, i made one some years ago in sims 4 n she actually looked a lotttt like me but i have lost all her pics unfortunately. now i just have a sim in one of my current 'hoods that's named after me

10. What sim traits do you give yourself? dang if only i knew myself better fr ,, hmmmm ima say animal lover, loves the outdoors, artistic, childish, socially awkward. maybe

Which is your favorite EA hair color? hmm i don't think i have one? i'll just say red

Favorite EA hair? i don't see ea hair in my game fr anymore but as a kid i think my favorite one was meg i think

Favorite life stage? im not sure honestly! i might have to go with child, or adult idk tbh

Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? i only started getting into building fr last year i think, building is a struggle for me but i really enjoy it! i think i'm def more of a gameplay person tho i just feel pretty restricted building for sims 2

Are you a CC creator? i am! pretty much just recolor things but i wanna try my hand at making terrains to share, and i'm slowly starting to upload lots n want to upload sims as well. i've made splash music and loading screens too, kinda wanna get back into doing that actually

Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad? i consider @gir-sims to be my friend! yall should check out her bacc, its both on youtube n dreamwidth!

What’s your favorite game? (1, 2, 3, or 4) the sims 2 is my favorite game in the world, been playing since i was like four/five!

Do you have any sims merch? i have a social bunny sweatshirt that i adore! i tried to google for it but it seems the shop is closed now, i got it from etsy by littleplumbobdesigns. i found this shirt it's the same design, except what i have is a pink sweatshirt with a pink social bunny!

Do you have a YouTube for sims? i do! i currently just have my port taylor bacc series on it, it's linked on my blog :^)

How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing? i spent the first manyyyy years of simming without cc ,, idk how i did it man. i used to use alpha cc for sims 4 then i ended up switching to mostly maxis match! for sims 2 i switched hair systems twice (started with new hair system, then simgaroop, now it's mostly poppet v2). i can recall switching eye defaults too. that's all i can think of

What’s your Origin ID? i think it's behindthesea00 (my mom made me the account to buy me sims 4 for christmas) BUT i share that account with my younger sister. i dont think she plays sims anymore so idk if she still gets on it, i dont either tbh i dont need origin/ea play/whatever to play my game anymore YAY

Who’s your favorite CC creator? oh gosh there are soooo many!!

How long have you had a simblr? hmmmm i think i've had this one for 3-4 years? but it's been longer than that bc i have a sims 4 simblr that i completely abandoned as i no longer play sims 4, i havent played it since right before infants came out

How do you edit your pictures? for gameplay pics i just cropped them for the most part, occasionally adding a silly lil detail to it. i add woohoo heart to censor nudity when needed. for cc i honestly seem to just do whatever i feel like doing, lately i think i just take the pic, crop it, n add text to it

What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next? i only play sims 2 so no more packs for me! other than cc packs that our lovely community makes!

What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far? for sims 2 hmmmm im honestly not sure, ahh this is a hard one! sims 2 has such great packs idk if i can choose! hmmmm def pets for sure n i really love open for business too

[theunseenpoet]

A FW Fanfic idea

This is actually an idea I came up with while writing Fire Breather so I'm not sure how I feel about it but I just need to make a few points before you read the draft:

I don't plan for Xaden to be the main love interest (it's just too difficult for me because the books revolve around him and Vi)

But I'm planning to write some tension between my OC and Xaden. Kind of like a love triangle but only for him while she's focused on her love interest (who I still have yet to figure out so lmk who you would want her with)

Also, I don't think I've ever written an OC who is a young mother. Ik a lot of people aren't a fan of that trope, but I personally love it...plus, who wouldn't want to see the shadow wielder as a dad??

And I'll also be introducing two signets that we haven't heard yet in the books.

Let me know what you guys think of this rough draft of chapter 1 before I continue writing.

Also a shout out to LeonieStarLee on wp who helped me start this chapter. Sadly, she's stopped writing but we've been helping each other for a few months now with editing, and she wanted to help write the first chapter with me since I was a little stuck x

---

The sun seeped into my room through the curtains like golden spears as I lazily opened my eyes to start the day. Stretching my arms above my head, I smiled in satisfaction at the release felt in my joints before I rolled onto my side, only to be stopped by a small body snuggled up against me, dirty-blond curls covering the tawny brown skin of his forehead.

"Good morning, bub," I whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

The little boy beside me wiggled around for a few minutes before cracking those dark brown eyes open, looking right up at me—the eyes of his father. "Mama," he mumbled, his lips pulling into a bright smile. "Is today the day?"

Wrapping my arms around him, I pulled him against my chest with a heavy heart that I refused for him to ever see in my eyes. "It is, which means your uncles and aunty should be here soon."

"Uncle Li?" His eyes lit up seconds before he was scrambling off me and went face-first into the pillows, making me snort. But like his father, he got right back up and jumped off our bed, then stumbled a step toward his stuffed red dragon on the hardwood floor.

It was rare for my twin to visit after Levi, my son, was born four years ago, considering we didn't want anyone to know about his existence—especially if anyone found out who his father was. 

Keeping Levi's existence a secret was something I had been ready to die with since the day he was born. Only Liam, my adopted older brother Heze, his father, and my best friend Cecilia, knew that Levi was alive and my son.

Not even my son's father knew.

But that wasn't my fault. In fact, I waited on my porch every morning and night for a year straight after Levi was born, hoping his father would one day show up.

Yet, not once did the man who said he loved me, show up.

Not. Once.

And so, I gave up on waiting. I didn't have time to wait anymore. I had a son who would forever and always be my first priority. I had a son who deserved his mom's undivided attention. I had a son who needed a loving and caring mother.

So for my son, I gave up on loving anyone who wasn't him or my immediate family.

I gave up on being so angry and resentful toward his father because I never wanted my boy to see that side of the world at such a young age.

And I gave up on hoping that Xaden Riorson truly loved me and would one day return with his arms wide open, wanting to take us in as his family—or just Levi, at least.

I sat up on the edge of our bed, pushing my blond hair over my shoulder. "Do you want me to pick out your clothes today or will you try to do it yourself like yesterday?"

"I've got it, mommy!" A cheesy smile covered his face as he gave me a thumbs up, walking toward our armory. "I'm a big boy."

I stood up, sending him a proud smile. "You very much are a big boy," I hummed, picking up my cream coat from the floor before pushing my arms through it. "Remember, you'll need something warm."

"And blue!" Because that had been his favorite color since the day he could say the word.

"What color should mommy wear?" I asked him, starting to pick up our clothes from the floor.

"Well, Uncle Heze always brings home yellow flowers because he says it's your favorite color," he rambled, throwing random items of his clothes on the ground near his feet. For a four-year-old, he was very observant. "I think you should wear yellow today."

"Yellow it is." I sent him a warm smile just when the door cracked open and Kevin, my adopted father, stepped into the room, his hazel eyes scanning the two of us before he smiled. "Morning, Kev."

"Morning, darl," he greeted me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head as he passed to reach Levi who picked up a grey shirt, then scrunched his face up and threw it over his shoulder. "Having trouble making a decision there, little man?"

"I have too many blues to pick from!" Levi grumbled, plopping himself down before crossing his arms over his chest with a pout. "This is too hard."

I silently watched, leaning against the doorframe with my arms full of clothes as Kevin chuckled, crouching down beside him. "Life is full of hard decisions and choices, Levi," he gently said, picking up a random navy blue shirt. "But that's why family is around. We're always here to help you whenever you ask for help, that is." He handed Levi the shirt before looking over his shoulder at me, nodding his head. "You go do what you need to do, Dosie. I'll make sure the little man doesn't have a tantrum."

"Thank you," I quietly said. "I'll start on breakfast," I further added, flashing them a smile before walking out of the room. Their laughter echoed with each step as I walked down the hallway, the walls full of sketches Heze had created over the years, including a few of Levi's drawings and plants I had pressed between the pages of books.

I dumped the clothes in a basket in the bathing room, where a tub sat under a window, facing the mountains outside. Even in the morning light, the sun's rays glowed against the morning fog outside.

"I picked your dress, mama!" Levi yelled, his voice bouncing off the walls.

I walked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me. "Make sure to leave it on my bed and I'll change into it the second I'm done with cooking," I promised him, walking into the sitting room that opened up to the small kitchen and dining room. With only the three of us—once four before Heze joined the Rider's Quadrant—we lived in a small house, which I didn't mind.

The only people we had over were the usuals and the only people that I trusted to know of Levi's existence. 

Heze joined us whenever he could get away from Basgiath on his Red Clubtail—Daenth—and he always brought flowers, knowing I enjoyed drying them out. 

Cecilia Hansley was my best friend since childhood and a 'marked one' just like me, the two of us inked with a relic of swirls and slashes on our left arms. That girl was always over considering her adopted family was only a five-minute walk away and she constantly spoiled Levi with treats she baked herself. 

Then there was Liam, my twin older—by three minutes—brother who I only saw once every six months. 

Considering tomorrow I would be crossing the Parapet to the Riders Quadrant—much to my dismay—with my brother and Cecilia, Liam lied to his adopted father about staying with a different, unmarked, family tonight. Truth was, he wanted to be here tonight, and Kevin agreed without a second thought. We just had to make sure no one saw three marked ones together today outside my home.

"Levi's just getting dressed," Kevin informed me, snapping me out of my thoughts as he strolled into the room.

I took in a deep breath, grabbing the basket full of eggs off the counter. "Did he like the outfit you chose or argued again?"

He chuckled, grabbing the announcements off the counter. "A bit of both but we came to an agreement. That boy has your attitude, that's for sure."

I raised a brow at him, cracking two eggs onto the hot pan in front of me. "Half that damn attitude is your son's fault," I mused, shaking my head. "The last time they were together, I caught Heze teaching him swear words in Tyrrish."

"And who did your brother learn those words from?" he countered, sending me a knowing look while sitting in his green armchair as I cracked another four eggs.

"Hey, I was younger then!" I grumbled, pushing the eggs around with a fork while waiting for them to cook.

After a few minutes of the eggs sizzling to fill the comfortable silence, I leaned against the counter and the lock on the front door clicked, then pushed open, revealing my tall, broad adopted brother, his jet-black hair buzzed to his scalp and the silver scar on his jawline crinkling on his dark brown skin when he smiled at the sight of me.

"How's my favorite family this morning?" Hezekiah said in a way of greeting.

"Leave your weapons on the shelf!" Kevin called out, not looking up from the announcements once.

I snorted, scooping the eggs out evenly on four plates while Heze rolled his eyes, closing the door behind him and listening to his father. "Glad to see you made the journey in one piece," I hummed, glancing at the battle ax he placed on a high shelf out of Levi's reach. "Levi should be out here soon. He's just getting dressed," I informed him, putting the dirty pan in the sink.

"And what about you? How are you, Theodosia?" he pushed, always asking that whenever I'd answer about Levi and not myself.

"Tired but once I have a coffee and a bath, I'll be ready for the day," I truthfully answered him, knowing that he always knew when I was lying. And I wasn't lying today—I was exhausted after being up most of the night to pack my rucksack and create folders to help Kevin with Levi since I'd be gone until who knew when.

"You're not telling me—"

"Don't start hounding your sister, boy," Kevin lectured, folding up the announcements. "She's been up all night packing. At least wait until after breakfast before you start interrogating her."

I laughed at Heze's offended look, passing our father a plate and fork that he took with a small thank you before I walked toward the table where Heze leaned behind a chair. "You two need to start eating your breakfast before someone snaps at the other."

Heze rolled his eyes, sitting down as I placed a plate before him. "He's always in a grumpy mood," he whispered.

"I heard that!" 

The two of us shared a wide-eyed look before quietly laughing and I headed back into the kitchen as Levi walked into the room wearing the navy blue shirt Kevin picked out and white trousers, smiling up at me. "You look very handsome, bub. Oh, and Uncle Heze is here."

"Heze!" he chirped, waving excitedly at Heze who returned the wave, then his eyes darted to the cooked eggs on the counter. "Can I have some?"

"Of course," I said to him, picking up a plate. "You need to eat up because Uncle Li will want to do something fun with you today."

His eyes lit up, making my heart warm in my chest as he followed me to the table. I placed down the plate of eggs beside Heze, leaving the two to eat and talk about something to do with dragons as I walked back to the kitchen. 

Before I could eat my food, I tied my short hair into a bun and splashed some water on my face, resetting my morning nerves to a calm ring. Then I placed my plate down across from Levi and left it there, fetching his hairbrush and hair cream from the bathing room to brush his curls.

As I walked back into the dining room, the front door opened again, and I smiled when Cecilia's yellowish-green eyes locked with mine, her dark brown hair in its usual slicked-back bun, and in her hand was a brown paper bag, meaning she baked something again.

"Good morning, Mairi-Whitlock family!" she cheered, her usual energetic energy making Heze groan, Kev laugh, and Levi cheer just as loud as her, sending bits of egg flying from his fork. She closed the door behind her, walked to the head of the table, and put the brown paper bag down. "I made strawberry tarts for the little man."

"Yay!" Levi cheekily smiled, dropping his fork on the table before snatching the bag. "These ones my favorite!"

"That's exactly why I made them." Lia ruffled up his curls, walking behind his chair.

I pointed the hairbrush at her, raising my brows. "You do that every time before I brush his hair. It's like you enjoy watching me struggle."

"Hey, someone's got to challenge you." She put her hands up in mock surrender while Heze snorted.

"You say that as if I wasn't a mom at sixteen," I deadpanned, starting to softly brush through Levi's curls before I could style them. "But," I drawled, smiling down at my boy who stuffed his face with tarts, "that was my best choice in life."

"Damn right it was," Heze said around a mouth full of eggs.

"I swear you're always talking with food in your mouth." Lia sent him a disgusted look, sitting at the head of the table. "Learn to swallow."

"Clearly Dosie didn't," he muttered under his breath.

But I heard him loud and clear, slapping him on the back of his thick head with the hairbrush. "Watch yourself," I warned him, narrowing my eyes to a glare when he groaned, rubbing his head and Lia cracked up laughing. Little Levi was too caught up in his sweets to even know what was happening. "I might not be able to fight well, but she can, and she'll happily kick your butt."

Lia smirked, waving her fingers at him. "Yeah, I will."

"Why Dad loves you two so much is beyond me," he grumbled, flipping us off when I finished brushing through Levi's hair, starting to run the cream through his curls. "You two are my biggest pains in the ass."

"Language!" Levi lectured him, making his eyes grow wide while I started laughing with Lia. "You can't say bad words, Uncle Heze."

"Oh, he's certainly a Mairi with that tone."

I whipped my head toward the door, my eyes widening with happiness at the sight of my twin brother walking through the door, a rucksack on his back and a different bag in hand. "Liam!" I wiped the cream off my hands and onto the back of a swearing Heze before running around the table and throwing my arms around Liam. "You're finally here!"

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," he admitted, dropping the bag at our feet before wrapping his arms around me and almost squeezing the air from my lungs. But I couldn't care. My brother was here. "Sorry it's taken me ten months to visit again. Shit's been weird at the manor."

"You're here now and that is all I care about." I hugged him tighter before pulling away, unable to stop smiling. "From tomorrow on, we won't be separated again."

While growing up, Liam and I were attached to the hip. We even shared a room together until we were twelve and then when we had our own rooms, we had a connecting door. Most of the time, one of us slept on the other's floor because we were so co-dependent on each other.

And then there was our little sister, Sloane. We always dragged her to join us in everything, but she liked her own personal space. But then again, most nights she would build a fort in one of our rooms and the three of us used to sleep in them together.

Then the Tyrrish 'Rebellion' happened and the three of us were separated, shoved into new families without contact with each other.

Except after a year of separation, the duke allowed Liam to reach out to me and Sloane. Obviously, I answered my brother, and we were allowed to visit but Sloane's adoptive family refused for her to contact us and we couldn't even find out where she was—even after Kevin fought for three years to find out.

Our little sister was just gone, forced to not contact us until she could enter the Riders Quadrant, which wouldn't be until next year, after we would.

"We need to cross the parapet first," he gently reminded me, then sent a small wave to the others. "Everyone's here then?"

"Obviously." Lia sent him a knowing look.

As if Levi only just noticed Liam's arrival, he let out a cheer, nearly falling off the chair before Heze caught him with one hand and helped him to the ground. Then the little boy was running straight to Liam who crouched, opening his arms wide.

When they two embraced each other, I smiled, feeling my heart beating at a steady rhythm for the first time in ten months.

"Look at my nephew." Liam stood up again, turning Levi in his arms to hang upside down. "You're growing taller every time, little man."

"I'll be taller than you one day," Levi challenged, crossing his arms over his chest. "And way stronger!"

Liam laughed, turning back up right before placing him on his feet. "And there's that ego you inherited from your fath—rainbows." My twin cringed, avoiding my annoyed look while Heze widened his eyes, staring at his cleared plate, Lia whistled lowly, shaking her head, and Kev muttered under his breath, walking into the kitchen.

Due to my history with Xaden and how heartbroken he left me; everyone here knew to not bring him up around me. Well, except Liam who always asked him about him whenever he visited.

To be honest, talking about Xaden wasn't such a big issue to me as it used to be. But I didn't appreciate the 'father' word being dropped around Levi, especially when talking to or about him in the same sentence.

Of course, Levi knew he had a father, but he didn't understand why he wasn't around. And for his own protection, he didn't know his father's real name. Could you blame me for keeping that from him? He was four years old and young children say a lot of things that shouldn't or had heard from others. The last thing I ever wanted for his own safety was for him to tell the wrong people who his father was.

So, to Levi Mairi, his father's name was Zane. Not much of a difference from Xaden, but it worked and kept him safe.

Thankfully, he didn't inherit his father's dark locks, making it easier to not make a connection...but it was his eyes that worried me. They shared the same eyes and I'd been reminded many times by my small family that if Levi was ever in the same room as Xaden, then everyone would make the connection between them.

'Never have Levi and Xaden in the same room,' was the first mental rule I made for myself after what they told me.

"Rainbows?" Levi tilted his head at his uncle. "How does that happen?"

"I'll explain it all to you," Kevin interjected, walking toward us with his hands out to take Levi. "Mama needs to eat her breakfast and talk to your aunty and uncles, little man. Let's get some shoes on your feet and I'll explain everything about rainbows."

Levi clapped his hands together, eagerly nodding his head as Kevin took him from Liam.

When the two left the room, I finally sat down, taking my plate and filling my fork with eggs. "I would've made you some, Li, but I thought you were arriving around lunch."

He shrugged, his blond spiky hair glowing in the morning sun from the open windows. "I had something to eat on the way here," he informed me, and I nodded, chewing my food. "You okay, Dosie? You look stressed."

Heze nodded, leaning back into his chair. "I noticed that too. Have you been sleeping and eating?"

"We know taking care of Levi can get tiring for you," Lia softly said. "If you and Kev need a break for a few hours, then you know the three of us are happy to watch him."

I placed down my fork, sending them a small smile. "I'm eating and getting enough sleep. Plus, Levi is getting better at stopping himself from throwing a tantrum now." By looking at their faces, I knew they weren't convinced one bit. I sighed, dropping my head back against the chair. "I'll see Xaden tomorrow."

"How the fuck did I forget that?" Lia breathed, slapping a hand to her forehead. "We should've faked our deaths like you suggested."

"Faked your—when the fuck was this suggested?" Liam stumbled over his words, looking at us with wide eyes.

Heze waved him off, focusing on only me. "Are you okay?" he genuinely asked me, not a note of amusement on his face like there usually was.

Under his intense gaze, I straightened. Gods, sometimes I swore he could see right through me. "What do you think?" I deadpanned and the three of them shared a quick glance. "The last time I saw Riorson, he promised nothing could keep up apart, and yet, he hasn't visited once since he bonded with a dragon and started rising the ranks in that damn college. Oh, and there's also the little fact that he has a son he doesn't even know about!"

Lia cringed. "I'm sensing some passive-aggressive energy in your tone."

I slowly turned my head toward her and she shrunk in her chair. "No shit, Lia."

"Will you tell him?" Liam questioned, sitting down beside me as I faced back to him, furrowing my brows. "Riorson," he clarified. "Will you tell him about Levi?"

Shit. I hadn't really thought about that part yet.

Obviously, Xaden deserved to know he had a son—hell, he deserved to know four years ago but it wasn't like I could just send him a letter with that news. He was Fen Riorson's son. Without a doubt, his letters would've been opened and read before he even knew of them.

And Heze could've told him, but the two of them had already beaten the shit out of each other on Heze's first day in the quadrant and I didn't want to risk that again...or risk Xaden getting himself killed to try and get here before he even had a dragon. Or being followed to Levi. Or being spied on because it was a known fact that we marked ones were always being kept an eye on. 

There were just too many risks on the line when it came to telling Xaden and at the end of the day, he left. Yes, he didn't and still didn't know about Levi...but if he could ghost me and Liam, then who was to say he wouldn't do the same to Levi who deserved the world? 

I could never put my boy through the pain of a father leaving.

I refused it.

"We'll see," I finally answered, shrugging my shoulders. "I'm not about to bring Xaden into my son's life just to leave at the knowledge he even exists. Levi doesn't deserve that, ever. If Riorson isn't actually this heartless dick, as Heze has described many times, then I'll tell him of his son. But if he's someone who doesn't deserve to even know my son, then he won't."

[whataboutsimple]

Age is a really unclear subject in mcsm but one can assume that the admins have unusually long lifespans, if not immortality (including Xara obviously, even if she doesn't have admin powers anymore). But does this mean that Binta and the people in the Underneath also have really long lifespans/delayed aging? Because Binta mentions that Fred himself made her promise to keep Fred's Keep a safe haven.

Good question, Anon!

So, it really depends on if we are talking about my AU or canon? I'm assuming you talk about canon, so let's go:

Age really is an unclear subject, if you ask me, but here we should take a look at timeline of all the Episodes both from S1 and S2! First of all we have this fact that Original Order Of The Stone faded in the legends, but how could that be possible if they all are alive? Well, you see, when people say that someone faded in the legends, it doesn't always mean they're gone, so here it probably meant that they're not doing their "wandering heroes business" anymore, so we can't count that as an evidence for something, but what we can and will count is the fact that no one remembers Ivor as a part of The Order. We know for sure he was with them when Order was claiming their victory over EnderDragon, so how could it be that no one knows Ivor? Not even as a "mystery of fifth member"? Maybe because it's been a long time, those who saw them either dead or simply won't remember. And THAT what we can count as an evidence. People do live long life there. What's next? Next is our mysterious Builder Of Worlds - Soren! The guy somehow managed to be part of the Order, Old Builders, and live long enough to write a book that Fred has in his house! Which means when he did it, Fred was still alive, and since we know for sure Soren was living above bedrock, that means that bedrock ceiling was built when all the Admins still were friends. This can be proved even by mushrooms that we can see around Fred's keep! He built them so monsters won't spawn near his people, because now it was always night for them. With that information we can even assume Fred was alive during WitherStorm, right? No, since Xara doesn't know anything about Jesse and I'm as hell sure Fred would've done something to prevent WitherStorm from killing so much people! Okay, he was killed before WitherStorm. What does it mean? It means that his keep, or Binta at least, is not that much older, than Jesse and his friends. Maybe 10 years or something? Let's pretend Binta was around her 30 when the whole constant fighting between Admins started. I'm assuming it didn't took too long for this to escolate, soon after that the bedrock ceiling was created, so maybe she was 32? After that I'm sure it was Fred's death, and he probably asked her to keep people save when she was like 32? Going back to main group, it sure took them some time to go through WitherStorm and Portal arc, so I add around three or four years here. Now Binta should be from 35 to 36 the moment Jesse and the gang visits the keep, BUT we shouldn't forget that the ceiling was existing for quiet some time so people above bedrock would live there, and if we will count the Order as oldest people +20-30 years, it makes Binta from 50 to 60.. She supposed to be old, right? But let's not forget such characters as Soren hismelf, Ivor, Harper, Hadrian, Otto and Mevia. They supposed to be old too, and they are old, but not old enough to not be able to fight properly with a sword (look at Hadrian and Mevia. They are CRAZY with their fighting skills). Which means that people from MCSM get older differently from us, and it takes a lot more than 60 years to really feel that they are old.

Personally, I don't think they have a longer lifespans or smth like that, I think the timeline between all the events a lot shorter, than we assume, and all the people in MCSM age really slow.

I don't think I've got it right, but I tried! Thanks for the ask, dear Anon, hope that answered your questiom!<3 And if you wanted to hear it from the perspective of my AU, just send me another ask!

[corneille-but-not-the-author]

Painting

"Please, don't move, your Majesty."

It's uncomfortable. So uncomfortable. I have been staying here for the past hours, striking a pose and waiting for this man, I think his name is Asclepios, to finish his painting.

And for what ?

We are four centaurs. Me, my brother Chiron, and my two daughters, Leto and Terpsichore. The only family I have left.

Last time we did this sort of thing, we were about twenty. Father was alive. Mother was alive. Abyss my brothers and sister, Paris, Patroclus and Helen were alive.

It was three years ago but it feels like a century passed since these happier moments.

Now my brother hates me. Because I want to protect the little things we have left. He calls me a tyrant, calls me a despot. He thinks he's better than me.

And that's why he chose this pose on this painting.

Maybe it's the last time we see each other. Tomorrow, he'll go with his friends and lovers to Jarghalsaikhan's army. Maybe I’ll never see him again.

But he still smiles like he is in the right and I am in the wrong.

And future generations will see it. They will remember our rivalry. They will ask why his smile is so defiant, so rebellious. They will ask why I’m despaired, why my eyes are far in the distance, the eyes of a king who was not supposed to be.

"It's finished, your Majesty."

Six months have passed. The painting is stunning, but that was expected. On it, my two daughters are equal to themselves. Terpsichore is a snake, like the ones she have tatooed on her arms. A beautiful and dangerous snake, and I admire her beauty, as grand as her mother's. Leto is the contrary, brutally honest, but brave, with loads of hope.

My face is a lie, on this painting. I never had such a regalian face during the painting sessions. Asclepios, whom I grew closer and closer of during these six months, must have spared me the indignity of having a frown, or anxiety wrinkles, or anything that would make me less of a king.

Still, this painting is a lie.

Because Chiron, my dear brother, is smiling.

And since he came back from Osghour, he has not smiled once.

"Leave me alone, brother."

Chiron's voice is tired, so far away from a year ago, where he would run everywhere and tell me I'm a coward, a traitor to the Esnothi people. Now, he's training all day long in the courtyard.

What have you seen, Chiron, that my eyes did not see ?

Why must you hate me when I love you so dearly ?

You run. Run away from your problems. Run away from me. You were a rebel, you would tell me when I’m wrong, and look at you now. Too afraid to fight.

The Games are drawing near. And you will lose, because you refuse a capable team.

You refuse to prove me wrong anymore.

And I won’t stand for it any longer.

“Fine, I’ll leave.”

But you won’t be alone much longer, brother.

I’ll make sure of it.

And if you fail, this time, it will only prove me right.

That I was right to hate those other species for taking father, mother. That I was right to pursue what our ancestors planed for us. Might makes right, after all. And I won the Games, I became King.

Even though you still beat me at our common trial, my team won, and so I won. Which means I am the best king our family had to offer, whether you like it or not. Still, this uncomfortable feeling won’t go away.

Do they deserve to live in chains ?

Did our parents, our family, die because of their pride ?

Am I committing the same mistake ?

Those Games will decide it.

Whether I win or lose, I’ll finally know who was right, and who was wrong. And maybe, after that, you’ll cease to haunt my every step. You and your arrogant smile. Until then, dear brother, we are at war. And I’ll give you the best army I can find to defeat me.

[golbrocklovely]

letting you know this that shifting anon! i tagged you in my post because it’s too much for the ask box 😭

sorry for not responding sooner. i had a crazy day at work and was just super tired haha

i'm gonna respond to your post here instead of in replies or a reblog.

so when i was in school, i was able to get my work done on time. i'm kinda worse now with time management, but if i know i have to get something done, i'll get it done by the date it needs to be done at. even if that means struggling the whole time to get it done fast enough lol

idk what types of flowers they were, and having been on that campus (at that point) almost four years, they NEVER died like that before. and there's no way someone burned it without there being some form of message sent out to campus. plus by spring they grew back. so it was just so odd that they all of sudden died when they were alive literally the day before.

to give some slight more background into what i audition for and whatnot, so i audition, back to back days the previous week for a musical and play. the play, i had a gut feeling i wasn't gonna get strictly bc i was the first person sent home lol the musical on the other hand, i went thru callbacks and shit like that so i was a bit confused as to why i didn't even get considered or whatnot. but the director, who was also my advisor, ended up picking her own child and her friends to be in the show. so…. nepotism at it's finest.

and to be a skeptic on my own end: while i don't think it was a manic thing, bc even after i graduated and really sat with the fact i wasn't gonna have another show or two to add to my name, i still really wasn't upset about it. it was weird as hell how pippy skippy i became after getting the news when 10/10 times i usually would be upset, beat myself up over it, and cry.

but…. it's possible that i realized how lucky i got. bc the play i auditioned for, the director for that i had worked for once. i wasn't in a production, but i was her assistant and then became a stage manager. and let me tell you, that woman did not, at any given point, have her shit together. like, if you feel like your life is messy, you don't even hold a CANDLE to her mess. so i wasn't too heartbroken over not being in that show. then the musical… again, i think it was realizing i didn't have to worry about the director, who was also my advisor… who barely did any advising. i could spend the rest of my senior year in peace and just do whatever i wanted to. i only talked to her once or twice afterwards and that was bc of a senior project i had to do that she graded and passed me on.

my advisor/director, i'm telling you, had object permance problems when it came to me. there had been multiple times when she wouldn't even tell me there were auditions so the night before i would scramble to learn and entirely new song just to go perform it the next day. that happened multiple times. and just to add some more context for fun, her husband was the music director. so he dealt with the music side, she directed the actors. we did a production of into the woods. i auditioned, got callbacks, genuinely thought i had a chance at a major role, only to not get it. and i remember being outside the theater when they were practicing, i think bc i had a class in that same building. he came out, said hi to me, we chatted for a quick second, and then he very softly said to me "i'm sorry you didn't make it in… you should have" or something like that and then walked off.

so….. she might have just hated me for some reason lol so that could be why i was able to be like "you know what, i'm very happy i'm not dealing with you anymore."

but it didn't make sense how quickly i became happy. bc as someone that has suffered with depression since i was kid (and also didn't know i was suffering at the time this took place), happiness is not something that comes easily to me. i can be happy for a brief moment, sure. but i was giddy, and that itself was jarring to me then and still now.

and yeah my mom saying that to me was super creepy but also weirdly comforting. i never found out what was off, but it was just like a general feeling of things feeling out of place somehow.

and oh i didn't know that. i thought shifting was just a sleeping thing. well, that's cool to know :)

[fizzingwizard]

why is a t-shirt more expensive if it doesn't have sleeves?? lol

buying my dad a birthday present and having my annual "I don't have a family anymore" breakdown :)

I actually think it would have been easier if my parents had separated when I was a kid. As an adult I have no footing to figure out how to be their kid anymore. It feels like we lived together under one roof for decades and are now complete strangers.

First my brother. dealing with his legitimate issues, pushed us all away, and now he only talks to my mom.

My mom separated from my dad also for legitimate reasons and is now living with her boyfriend.

My dad's pushed everyone who loves him away, which he thinks is because they can't handle his political views, but actually it's because he called them all stupid and idiotic to their faces. Multiple times.

Mental illness abounds. My dad won't see a therapist, he'll only see a family friend who believes some pretty hokey stuff about the mind and 'vibrations' etc. But I look at it as at least he's talking to someone. I may not understand her beliefs, but I do know her as a kind person, and if my dad feels comfortable confiding in her then the rest isn't my business. My dad has told me he thinks he has ADHD, depression, he blames it all on his own family life growing up, he recognizes his mistakes - but also he can't stop himself calling people stupid. He really tries when he talks to me though. I do think it's dementia or undiagnosed mental illness because at this point he spouts angry politics like a tic, anything triggers it, any alternative point of view or simple fact check is an attack, and he has to work really hard to rein himself in. But again, he does try with me.

My mom seems really happy and her boyfriend seems nice. I don't dislike him at all. But I feel like I understand the step kid reservations about the "replacement dad." I never did growing up. I just chalked it up to "feeling sad" but it's more than that, it's a future you thought you'd have with one person, instead of disappearing when that person does, continuing with an entirely different person. It's not bad of course. It's mostly good. But it's beyond sad at the same time. Someone was supposed to be there who isn't, even though they're still alive. Someone else is there instead.

Brother seems to be doing much better too. I'm not sure of the details but it sounds like he either officially has some sort of autism diagnosis, or has gathered enough evidence to self-diagnose. It sounds like he's made some supportive friends at his new job and is figuring things out, so that's great.

My dad is the hardest because I don't hear much good news from hi. I don't hear bad news either. I want to hear that he isn't alone all of the time. But realistically I think he's got to have trouble making new friends and being part of a community. He never had trouble doing that before, but his habit of complaining and talking politics constantly gets in the way now. When we talk he usually seems okay, right until he starts talking about our family and how things used to be, and then he starts to cry. So I really struggle through calls with him. Gotta do one today or tomorrow because it's his birthday and I'm so upset just thinking about it.

It's now been four years since my parents separated so you'd think stuff like that would be getting easier. I don't think it is for my dad. And for me, I just keep feeling like my mom's off living her life, my brother's off living his somewhere else, and my dad's living his in another somewhere else, and there's no longer any reason for all of us to be together again. I barely know them anymore.

Ironically I was the one who left first. Not that my staying would have changed anything, though. I just avoided home during what college breaks I could because of my brother's outbursts. I tried to get away. I was lucky that I was following my dreams. Since things started falling apart, I went to college, moved to Japan, got a job, met my boyfriend, and have just been living mostly happily. Idk why all the trouble happened around me instead of to me. I am grateful for it, but it also makes me feel like even more of an outsider.

Even when I was a kid, I didn't have the complaints that my brother did about our family or school or whatever. That doesn't mean his complaints aren't valid. It's a bit complicated but there's plenty of stuff that was messed up. Some of it affected only him. But what did affect me I guess just didn't bother me in the same way. I always felt like anything I didn't like would go away some day so I didn't worry about it. That's why I describe myself as an optimist even though I don't think that's people's impression of me when they meet me haha. But I have a weird optimism that just assumes any bad situation is going to work out. Right now my big fears are mostly about my dad being alone in his old age. I'm still thinking about what I should do. I don't have any money and I don't have a house. Even my apartment is a shoe box. I also live in a different country which my dad wouldn't like (just because he's very much a creature of habit and has never enjoyed things being different - food especially). I'm not in a situation where it's easy, or even possible, to just say come live with me. I'd probably have to leave Japan and go home. Which is something I always knew was possible when my parents got old. But I figured if that happened, I would have both parents living with me, not just one.

It could be good though. I just don't know how I'd do it. If I had to move home, I have no idea what that would mean for my boyfriend, who has never expressed an interest in even visiting the US, let alone living there. Having ties in different places feels like being made to decide who you love more.

[likelycatherinemay]

Diary 5/?

I'm writing this at the same moment as my previous post, but it won't post until today, Sunday, September 15th. How's the future? In any case, I was struck by something from high school and worried I would forget about it if I did not write about it. God, it's really hard to write at two in the morning. OKAY. RALLY.

When I was in high school, I loved a boy. Shock, panic, crisis, do whatever you need to do to process that information. It wasn't a passionate love by any means, he loved and loves women, and he was in a fiery romance for three of four years in high school. She, while I did not love her as I loved him, was incredible as well.

My parents, as far as I ever saw, never loved one another. When I was eight, I sat on the couch with my oldest sister, and she told me as much.

"They used to fight, but they don't even care enough anymore," she said. I guess the marriage wasn't even worth fighting over. Marriage, to them, was the unspoken agreement that kept them living under the same roof for nine more years. If they told me they forgot about their marriage and it was just more convenient this way, I would be tempted to believe them. Consequently, I was eternally puzzled as to how romance functioned. As my sisters grew up and found successive partners of their own, I did not.

As I type this, I'm not sure why. At 21, I'm far from planting my flag firmly. The thoughts of asexuality and aromanticism have crossed my mind on many lonely nights. Clearly, my parents can't be completely to blame. My sisters have both found partners of their own. I have dated but nothing serious.

'So what? Why bring up your friend and crush at the beginning of the story?'

My goodness, dear reader, I didn't know you were so impatient. I worshipped at the altar of this boy. He could have marched me right off the side of the Empire State Building. He says, "Jump!" and I say, "How high?"

I think you get the picture. But, I think what made me love him was how much he loved his partner and much she loved him. For two years, I believed in love. Have you watched someone with the love of their life? And no, I don't mean envy. Watch them as they laugh, act foolish, make mistakes, argue while their worlds burn around them, and come back together. They were a marvel, unstoppable, and brilliant. Their relationship survived tragedy and long distance for a year. Then, it ended.

Distance wasn't even the killer. Truly, I believe it would have been easier for him if it was. They just changed. The piece at the corner of the puzzle no longer fits its counterpart. Even thinking about it now makes me want to cry. How can it be over? I want to wake up in the morning and know my North Star is still shining. Every day there is something undeniable and real waiting to remind the world that cannot erode the pillars we build our life upon. Not every single one, not every single time. But alas, the wind and rain come for us all, sanding away at the foundations of our world.

Did you know the Appalachian Mountains are older than trees? Isn't that incredible? Every day, the ancient forces of a world-long departed bathe under the same sun as you and me. It's wonderful. But, it's not the same. They are a shadow of what they used to be. Older than oxygen, time has beaten down on the giants of the world long since departed. I wonder if my parents ever felt that love. I wonder if I could have watched their love and felt the same as my friends. I have a hard time imagining that. But perhaps.

Love each other enough for someone to love you. That would make me happy.

I don't know how much I've read, future nonexistent reader ;).

"It's much older than you and me

I'm love, I'm alive

I belong to the stars and the sky."

[theferricfox]

the eruri trade continues😈

so: erwin made it to the sea with the others (everyone knows that as it’s canon). everyone had 1 (one) beach day when they found it, and even though it’s “”selfish””, erwin wants to have a day like that there.

ofc levi will fulfill this wish. at this point, the dock and railroad is finished, and levi zoomeddd through the week’s work to get time to go there for the day. it’s erwin’s birthday after all :333 the reveal of what levi did for him makes him really teary.

the 2 of them go. erwin is determined to have levi have fun too, since he put in so much work, and levi hates the feeling of sand on his feet, much less swimming yk. erwin got him sandals✅ rubbed on sunscreen ofc✅but levi won’t swim. he just won’t. he says the sea is filled with germs and gross creatures

they’re exploring the rocks lining the coast. yk the ones perfect for jumping in. and. erwin, feeling playful, pushes him in

levi can’t swim. HE CANT SWIM. erwin saves him and a shit ton of comfort ensues. the guilt he feels cannot fit 3 dimensions, but levi just wishes he was honest with him. levi insists they enjoy the rest of the day cos at least they’re together

🙂

GEE.

I'm sorry this took so long but you know me I have to spend like two thousand words on just setup and descriptions of pretty shit and etc etc.

Low key referenced that one time I fell into a pool when I was four and also that time my sister nearly drowned when I was ten.

Content warnings! Um... there's a brief NSFW mention if you're super not into that; drowning; the vastness of the ocean if you have that phobia.

A year seems like such a long time when you’re living it, but it’s merely a blink when you’re looking back. That odd dilation and contraction of time has always been strange to Levi, no matter how many times he reflects.

It’s been a little more than a year and a half since the Survey Corps took back Shiganshina. Sometimes when Levi thinks about that, he finds himself soaked in the fear he felt that day, as real and present as it had been then. So much loss, the feeling of control just a fleeting thought. If he focuses hard enough, he can still feel the air shift from the stones thrown at him and his comrades. He tries not to think about that. Just like he tries not to think about how close he came to losing Erwin. 

That cold steel pain that had seized his heart when he told the only man he’d truly loved to go to his death had heated to molten metal when Floch had brought Erwin to the roof, near death but still alive. Floch may be an egotistical follower with few thoughts of his own, but he saved Erwin that day, and Levi is grateful for that. He knows the boy’s motives were far from pure – he’d said himself he thought Erwin deserved to return to the hell of life rather than rest in peace – but Levi doesn’t care anymore. He got Erwin back. The kids still look at Levi with a small hint of resentment, but he’s long since stopped letting it bother him. Or at least, he won’t tell anyone that it still bothers him.

Just a few short weeks ago, the railroad was completed. Levi is still a little wary of it; what kind of monstrous thing can travel so much faster than a horse? The cold metal and loud chugging of the engine make his teeth feel sour, but the others marvel at its industriousness, so he bites his tongue whenever someone in the Interior asks about it. The most he’s ever divulged outside of Erwin’s bedroom is that he finds it makes the landscape look a little more lifeless. Onyankopon had laughed at that, commenting, “That’s what progress looks like!”

Despite officially leaving command to Hange, Erwin is still ‘The Face’ of the Survey Corps, and how could he not be? When the piddling remains of the Corps had returned from the Battle for Shiganshina, he’d been lauded as a hero. There had been parades in the streets — ostensibly for the entire Corps, sure — but mostly for Erwin. After all, he was the man with the brain that brought Humanity its biggest victory yet. No one asked how or why Erwin suddenly had his right arm again, at least not to his face. They shook that returned right hand with a warm smile and then whispered to their friends and colleagues. 

Levi had hoped that this victory, and the information they learned in that damned basement, would have alleviated some of the guilt from Erwin’s shoulders, would have brought new light into his eyes and lifted some burdens from his heart. When they eradicated the Pure Titans on the island and ensured none would ever come back through the effort of Eren and Erwin at the docks, he hoped the fanfare and celebrations would convince Erwin that his job was done, that he could retire and relax for just once in his life.

And yet, Erwin continues to be so damnably devoted to the tasks at hand that he’s still not had much of a day off, even as the kids all took turns to go to the ocean. Even Hange has taken their turn, returning with their poor horse weighed down with ‘samples,’ comprised largely of shells, stones, and inevitably slimy, foul-smelling creatures they plucked from the surf. They’ve hoarded these things in their office, choosing to spend their free time investigating and evaluating them instead of doing more humane things, like bathing for the sake of the rest of the Corps.

Levi keeps trying to convince Erwin to take a day, to go to the sea. He remembers the look in Erwin’s eyes when he saw that broad expanse of water for the first time. More specifically, he remembers thinking that Erwin’s eyes were modeled after both the sky and the sea; the three a perfect compliment to each other, connecting water, land, and air in a beautifully captivating trinity. 

But since that day, Erwin’s only excursions to the coast have been to destroy Marleyan ships and deter more invasions from their newfound tormentors. He’s mentioned several times how much he’d love to spend a day with his toes in the sand, soaking in the sun, but has never taken the time to do it. Levi has decided that will change today.

It is, after all, Erwin’s birthday.

Though Levi still doesn’t quite understand the new concepts of climate and the idea of living on an island versus the land mass called a ‘continent,’ he does know that he appreciates that today is just as warm as most summer days. The cold won’t arrive for another couple of weeks, making it a perfect day to bring Erwin to the beach. So he dictates as much of his daily work as possible and sets the kids to cleaning the entirety of HQ before he storms into Erwin’s office. As usual, he finds him bent over the books recovered from the Jaeger basement, writing notes in his own notebook. As he is more often these days, he’s slightly disheveled, stubble prickling along his jaw and his hair free of pomade, making him look more like a civilian than the former Commander of the Survey Corps. Admittedly, Levi likes this look on him, and he’s not as grossed out by the prickle of facial hair grazing his skin at night than he thought he would be.

“Hey,” Levi says, pulling Erwin from his study. “Let’s go.”

Erwin hardly looks up, placing a finger in place in whatever book he’s scouring as he jots down another note.

“Go where?”

Levi walks over and shuts the book over Erwin’s hand, gripping the stubbled chin with his free hand.

“It’s a surprise.”

That gets Erwin’s attention, and he’s graced with a raised eyebrow and an adorable frown that Levi desperately wants to nibble between his teeth.

“A surprise?” Erwin regards him for a long moment. “You don’t do surprises, Levi.”

“Well, I do, today. Come on.”

Levi pulls Erwin from his chair and drags him to the waiting carriage. Inside, bags that have been packed and repacked and packed again over the last three days sit on the floor between the benches. As he pulls the carriage door closed, Levi nods to the driver, who sets the horses in motion. 

They’re only in the carriage for ten minutes before Erwin, his need to know as strong as ever, moves to pull the curtain from the window to see where they’re headed. Levi holds it in place, a wry half-smile on his face.

“Like I said, it’s a surprise.”

Erwin fakes a pout but can’t hide the schoolboy excitement rising into his face, and Levi leans across the carriage to place a soft kiss on his lips. It’s all he can do to simply leave it as a small kiss. By the way Erwin shifts in his seat, it’s clear he feels the same.

“So,” Erwin says, gesturing towards the bags on the floor. “Can you at least tell me what that’s about?”

“We’ll be gone for a couple of days,” Levi says simply. He experiences a certain satisfaction as he watches Erwin squirm from the non-answer.

“But there’s work to do–” Erwin starts, and Levi knows he’s trying to fish for more information in that clever, subtle way he does. 

“I got clearance from Hange,” he responds simply. 

The ride takes a good few hours, and eventually Levi pulls out a small box with a packed lunch. When he opens it, Erwin chuckles heartily.

“You’ve certainly thought this through, Levi.”

“You’re not the only one with a working brain you know,” Levi teases, passing a sandwich across. “I used to be the brains of my own operation, you know. Back in the old days.”

Erwin chuckles again but doesn’t respond. They never talk about Levi’s days in the Underground. Not anymore; there’s no need, when the blonde knows everything there is to know.

It’s near dusk by the time they arrive, and before alighting from the carriage, Levi instructs Erwin to stay there; close his eyes and cover his ears, and wait for him to return. Erwin does as he asks, even as a big goofy smile spreads on his lips.

Levi jumps from the carriage and pulls open one of the bags, filled with camping gear. He pitches their tent with practiced ease and sets their bedrolls and other bags inside. He looks a the location of the tent and, satisfied, returns to the carriage. He kisses Erwin’s cheek and pulls his hands away from his ears, and it’s clear from the look in those beautiful blue eyes that he instantly knows where they are. Still, he can hardly hide his excitement as he is led from the carriage to see a tent pitched onto the sand, the gentle roll of the waves filling the air, the smell of salt filling their lungs.

Whilst Erwin marvels at the sight before him, Levi turns to the carriage driver and informs him of when to return, pays the man, and turns around straight into a bear hug. Even as he struggles not to get smothered by the massive pectorals pressing against his cheeks, he can’t stop the grin on his lips.

“Happy birthday, Erwin,” Levi mutters into the shirt that’s pressing against his mouth. 

Erwin pulls away, his eyes glittering, and laughs.

“I forgot it’s my birthday. Thank you, Levi.” He leans down and presses a kiss into dark hair.

“If you’re so old that you can’t even remember what day it is, maybe we shouldn’t let you ride a horse anymore,” Levi teases. “You might run someone over.”

Erwin lets Levi lead him to the tent and sits whilst wood is gathered for a fire. By the time it’s lit and setting up coals, the moon starts to rise over the ocean’s horizon. Levi pulls cured meat from one of the bags and cuts it into cubes, dropping it into a pot alongside potatoes and onions. He pours fresh water over everything and sets the pot over the fire to cook.

“You even got Hange to give you meat from the store room?” Erwin marvels.

“No, I bought it,” Levi responds simply. Without looking up from the pot, he notices the shocked expression on his companion’s face. “Don’t go Titan over it. I’ve been saving up.”

Erwin’s look settles into one of appreciation as they watch the stew cook. Once ready, Levi pulls bowls and spoons from one of the bags and serves them each a big portion. Erwin takes the offered bowl with a smile, brushing his fingers against Levi’s as he does. They eat in relative silence for a moment before Erwin speaks up again.

“This reminds me a little of some of our expeditions,” he says between spoonfuls. “Food cooked over an open fire like this always does.”

“I guess,” Levi says. “Except it’s a thousand times better. For one, we actually have meat.” He eats a piece for emphasis. “Oh, and no one’s dead.”

Erwin chuckles quietly and pours himself another bowl.

“Hey, save room for dessert,” Levi grouses, even as he pours himself another bowl as well.

The word ‘dessert’ immediately pricks up Erwin’s ears, and he finishes his second bowl quickly, clearly unable to contain his excitement. Levi favours him with a soft smile and attempts to tease by slowing his pace, eating carefully to draw out the wait, but Erwin’s pout has him bursting into laughter and rushing to finish his meal, too.

He reaches into the bag and pulls out a small box, packed with ice and opens it to reveal a small white cake, delicately decorated with whipped frosting and sprinkled with strawberry slices. Erwin’s mouth drops open at the sight, and he looks at Levi with wide eyes as the box is offered to him alongside a spoon.

“Levi… this can’t have been cheap… You’re really spoiling me here.”

��Spare me,” Levi says, poking him with his own spoon. “And anyway, I didn’t buy it. I made it. Now take a bite already.”

Erwin spoons a bite into his mouth and it immediately drops open in awe as the flavours hit his tongue. Levi scowls and smacks his chin with his spoon.

“Shut your mouth, blondie. I don’t want to see what’s in there unless it’s my dick.”

Erwin closes his mouth and finishes chewing the bite, his eyes wide.

“Levi… this is spectacular.” Erwin offers the box to Levi, who scoops a small bit with his own spoon and slips it into his mouth with a contented hum. “I never knew you could bake…”

“You never asked,” Levi replies simply, sneaking another spoonful before Erwin pulls the box back to him for a bite of his own. 

“Still, how long have we known each other now, and you’ve never said anything?”

Levi shrugs, licking frosting from his spoon.

“It never came up, so I never felt the need to say anything.”

Erwin laughs at that, a hearty ringing across the sand that sends Levi’s heart thundering in his chest.

“I feel like I’m going to be learning things about you for the rest of my life.”

“Let’s hope so…” Levi mutters as he reaches over for another bite of cake.

“By the way, Levi.” Erwin spoons a strawberry slice and holds it up in the light of the fire. “How did you get strawberries? They’re out of season this time of year.”

“There’s a valley in the south where they grow wild,” Levi says. “The climate down there is warm enough to support them year-round. I found them when we were eradicating the Pure Titans in that area.”

Erwin slips the strawberry slice into his mouth with a chuckle, shaking his head in incredulity. 

“I hope you never stop surprising me, Levi.”

***

The next morning is hot and humid by the time the sun is halfway along its climb to the highest point in the sky and Erwin is out in swim trunks before breakfast is done. Levi reluctantly pulls his own on, painfully aware of his pale skin feeling like it’s baking under the ruthless rays, despite the cream Onyankopon had brought, designed to protect skin from burns. He’d smeared it on as thickly as he could, wincing at the feel of it before he demanded Erwin put some on, too.

As he rubbed the cream into Erwin’s arms, he wondered, perhaps absurdly, if Titan shifters could even get sunburn. That and Erwin’s already somewhat tanned skin made the task feel a bit like a fool’s errand, but Levi wasn’t going to let go of an opportunity to place his hands on that toned body. Especially not after last night…

A row boat sits on the shore, and Levi takes the oars as Erwin pushes the small craft onto the water before jumping in. There’s a small island within just ten minutes’ row that apparently has some really interesting rock formations and shells and things, as well as a nice overlook of the sea. It sounds exactly like the kind of thing Erwin would enjoy, so Levi swallows his apprehension and rows them over, trying not to think about the way the waves rock the little boat along or how he lost sight of the bottom of the ocean floor a long time ago.

Erwin, meanwhile, is giddy with excitement, and it’s hard not to smile as he watches large-finned fish leap from the water in an unknowable sequence (are those what Nicolo called dolphins?), or how brightly-coloured fish swarmed around the boat as they left the shore. Levi insisted that they leave the notebooks and things behind, so Erwin can’t cross-reference anything he’s seeing, but he sees the man making constant mental notes as his ocean-blue eyes catalogue everything that crosses his view.

Arrival at the small off-shore island is a little more uncomfortable than Levi had been hoping for; there is no steady incline of ground leading to the island’s edge for him to settle the row boat against. Instead, Erwin hops out of the little boat and ties a rope around a tree to secure it in place and then helps Levi onto the rocky bluff. Levi looks behind him, as the waves shift the boat around on the rope like a dog on a leash and begs the world not to find a way to untie it whilst they walk and explore.

As predicted, Erwin loves this place. He finds vibrant flowers the likes of which they’ve never seen alongside scuttling crabs, bright red under the canopy of trees. The rocky shore is littered with discarded shells of hermit crabs and snails, and small tidal pools are full of bizarre creatures Levi can’t even begin to name. All of them mesmerise and entice Erwin’s gaze. Levi can’t help but love the look in the man’s eyes as he bends down to observe a sea star crawling on the rocks.

“Imagine!” Erwin says as he draws Levi’s attention to the creature. “Imagine if we’d never found out just how very big our world truly is. If we’d never dared to dream beyond the Walls… we’d never have known that these things were here.”

By mid-afternoon, the men sit on a part of the rocky bluff low enough to the water that they can put their feet into the salty surf. The ocean floor is still too far for Levi to see, especially with the waves distorting his vision, but he sits with his feet in the water and tries not to think about it.

“It’s so hot,” Erwin says, fanning himself with his hand. “Why don’t we go for a swim?”

Levi bristles at that, trying not to show the tension that immediately crawls into his shoulders.

“You can go swimming if you want,” he grouses, folding his arms. “Who knows what filthy shit is in the water? I don’t want to get any more of it on me than I have to.”

There’s a pause as Erwin pouts and then, suddenly, Levi is in the water and his eyes burn from the salt.

The ground. He needs the ground.

No, he needs air. Where is air?

Everything is suddenly confused as he struggles to understand what’s happening. Which way is up? Why is he in the water?

He kicks and kicks and feels his head surface and he tries to take a gasping breath but water fills his mouth as a wave rolls over him and he’s back under the surface again, choking on fluid in his lungs. The presence of the searing saltiness in his lungs makes him cough, bringing more water in and for the first time in a very long time, fear lights his blood on fire as his brain goes foggy. It stretches moments into hours of agony, his lungs filling with water in a never-ending struggle to dispel it.

As Levi’s consciousness starts to slip, a bulky arm hauls him to the surface. Instinct kicks in; he pushes and fights even as he coughs and gags on the water still in his lungs, in his mouth. This must be a Titan, one they forgot to take down. Or maybe they’re learning to swim. Or it’s Kenny, slipping into his room at night and holding a knife to his throat again, to teach him never to be off his guard, even when he’s sleeping.

But wait, isn’t Kenny dead? Is Levi?

Distantly, Levi hears a voice call out to him as he continues to struggle.

“Levi! Relax! It’s me. I’ve got you.”

Whether he trusts the voice or his strength gives out, Levi doesn’t know, but he goes limp in the arm that manuevers him onto his back and hooks under his armpits. He has a distant sense of being hauled up as the last of his consciousness fades.

How long he’s out for, Levi can’t say, but he’s thrust back into the waking world by a pounding on his chest and water spilling painfully out of his mouth. He rolls to his side as he expels the fluid in his lungs followed by the contents of his stomach. He feels Erwin’s hand, large and comforting, on his back, and slowly, his hearing returns, and he hears quiet coaxing.

“That’s right, Levi. There you go, get it out. I’m right here. You’re okay.”

When nothing is left but dry heaving and a throat left raw, Erwin guides Levi to sit up and hands him their canteen. The last thing Levi wants to do right now is put water in his mouth, but the burning in his throat tells him he needs it, so he accepts it and takes halting sips.

“Levi, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” Erwin shifts dark hair away from silvered eyes, looking deeply into them.

“What? Yeah…” Levi’s voice sounds like a gravel road run over by shoddy carriage wheels. “Why the hell are you apologizing?”

“I… It was my fault,” Erwin’s eyes are practically full of tears. “I thought you were just being grumpy, you know? When you said you didn’t want to go swimming. I was feeling playful and… well, I pushed you in.”

Levi levels a look at Erwin as he tries to comprehend what he’s saying. The look on his face must look more angry than he intends because Erwin continues rambling his apologies.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Levi, I swear. I just thought it would be fun, you know? We could swim together and then I saw you struggling and I realized you were drowning and…”

“Look, it’s fine,” Levi huffs. He can’t stay mad at Erwin anyway, even if he was angry about it in the first place. “I’m still alive, you pulled me out. It’s fine.”

He waves his hand in the air for emphasis and takes another sip from the canteen.

“I didn’t know you can’t swim,” Erwin says with an air of finality that smacks Levi in the chest at least as hard as the CPR that had forced the water from his lungs.

“Yeah, well…” Levi sighs through his nose, feeling his cheeks flare pink. “I didn’t exactly have a lot of opportunities to learn, growing up.”

“Right…”

They sit in silence for a long while before Erwin offers to row them back to the main shore. He helps Levi onto the boat and then unties the line and steps in. Levi feels his body tense as the boat rocks with the shift in occupancy. Erwin mercifully waits for the boat to steady before he starts to row the boat back to shore.

Once back on the beach, Levi immediately sets to lighting a fire. It’s true that there’s another couple of hours of daylight left, but if experience has taught him anything, it’s that it’s better to light a fire earlier than later. When it’s lit, he sets to drying off and changing, cringing at the feeling of salt sticking to his skin. He can’t wait to have a shower in clean, fresh water again.

He joins Erwin, changed and tending to the fire, and sits next to him. Slowly, he leans his head against Erwin’s thick arm and isn’t surprised when the arm shifts to wrap around him instead, so that Levi can smell the musk of him wafting through his shirt.

“I should have told you I can’t swim,” Levi says after a long silence. “I’m sorry.”

He senses Erwin shake his head with a light hum. 

“I’m just glad I was able to get you out safely.”

“You know… growing up, I never even imagined there was such a thing as a lake or a river, let alone something as big as the sea,” Levi continues. He isn’t sure what suddenly has him so talkative, but he feels the need to talk. To explain this odd inadequacy about himself. “The most water I ever saw down there… you know, it was rancid little puddles in the street or in a cup or in the bath house. But even there, the water was barely to my calves, and you didn’t want to stick around in those places, especially when I was a teenager.”

Erwin listens quietly, in that way only he can; that way that Levi knows this information will be burned forever into the other man’s memory, catalogued and stored for future reference.

“Anyway, when you said that you hope you never stop learning things about me, I don’t think this is what you meant. Or… maybe not the way you’d hoped to be learning something new about me.”

That makes Erwin chuckle lightly, and relief washes over Levi, releasing tension in his shoulders he didn’t realize had been building.

“Like I said, I’m just glad you’re safe. Although you did give me a good punch to the jaw as I was trying to get you out.”

“Payback for pushing me in.” Levi chuckles. “Probably gave you a few grey hairs, too.”

“Oh, I hope not,” Erwin says. “I need to keep up my boyish good looks for a little longer.”

At that, Levi pushes Erwin down onto the sand and straddles his broad stomach, looking down at him with an appraising air. He ignores the flush in the blonde’s face in the firelight as he settles his ass on the hard muscles of Erwin’s abs.

“Hmm, I don’t know…” Levi teases. “You’ve stopped slicking back your hair and started to get stubbly. I’m thinking you look more like the homeless vagrant the Survey Corps keeps around as a pet rather than the boyishly charming Erwin Smith.”

Erwin pouts and runs a hand along the stubble.

“I thought you liked the new look. Said it was less ‘Sucking up to fat Mitras Nobles’ and more ‘Isn’t taking people’s shit anymore.’”

Levi laughs and seizes Erwin’s lips in a kiss that – mercifully – does not taste like the sea. He’ll never get tired of exploring Erwin’s mouth with his tongue, or their breath hot on each’s skin as they press lips to jawlines, collarbones, and elsewhere. Levi pulls away, panting quietly, and smiles.

“I love the look, Erwin, you know that.” He leans in for another kiss, whispering against his lips. “Happy birthday.”

[substantialfreak]

One year ago, two years ago, three years ago, four years ago (some sad sewer shit imminent)

One year ago... it doesn't seem like much has changed, but it has. All for the better, but my criticisms seem to want to diminish them all, or choose to focus on what was not accomplished. As per usual. I have a less physically demanding job that is a lot more gratifying. It is also one that feels less embarrassing to have at my age given I have no degree. I play dnd with some rad friends I didn't have last year. I have some really enjoyable hobbies and one in particular has finally given me an outlet for a lot of my other creative endeavors that I thought I would never get to put out into the world. And I am finally ready to breed. I think I even met someone who I might be able to make a family with instead of just being a donor. So fingers crossed for that one lol There are things I would love to make better for myself, through my own efforts and not bc someone saw fit to give me charity. Which I am always grateful for when it happens. But I feel like I have been surviving on the charity of others, and generally outside benevolent forces, for a very long time, and not bc I chose to live that way. I'd like to feel like I'm actually steering instead of just weathering and trying to make sure my little vessel doesn't capsize.

Two years ago... I lived in another state but was on the same coast as I am now, I had a partner but I was slowly becoming quite unhappy, as was he. We honestly shouldn't have stayed together as long as we did, but I was still decompressing and trying to find my footing. He was no angel, but was not a monster to me. Just living under the immense weight of his own life and grief over the loss of his sister. I think he had just polished off the last of the 200 case box of whip it canisters he had purchased over the winter, and the p***y seeds he Johnny Appleseed'ed into the garden were starting to sprout. Yeah... he was no angel, but he still managed to not go back to using despite the questionable purchases, and the subsequent o***m and sunflower garden we grew. It would be nice to stop dreaming about him, though. And picking up on his grief like a radio station that usually comes in as static, but will, on occasion, come in clear as day. Especially since we never talk. I'll always cherish the chunk of time we spent as two people just happy to be me making happy memories with someone again. I think we both needed that.

Three years ago... I find myself not wanting to even type out what it was like. All I hear is static when I think about it bc I don't want to think about it and I'm trying to write over it as if it never existed or ever happened. Granted my life at this point three years ago was already drastically improving, and for reasons not even remotely related to covid, it was still as awful as it could get. A month from this point I would finally have my unemployment money coming in from my previous genuinely evil employer, and a month after that I would be living in a tent, and a month after that I would be driving cross country and sleeping in my car, and a month after that I would be living with my now most recent ex bf and enjoying life by the beach for the next year. But this time three years ago I was just trying to stay alive long enough to get away. Once I moved in with my ex, it took six months before I stopped feeling phantom bug crawling on my skin. And I guess I just don't like thinking about it bc all I do is want to make wishes to change things that will never change, bc they already happened and are long behind me. So I just try to remember that I'm not there anymore, that I don't have to live like that anymore.

And finally...

Four years ago... "this isn't your average every day darkness. This is advanced darkness." I was a frightened animal back into a corner, and was experiencing a near constant feeling of fight or flight. A month from this point four years ago I button mashed flight bc I couldn't handle it anymore. But I actually like being alive, so... I lived. But I still know what it feels like to anticipate the sweet embrace of death bc finally... something was going to change and I wouldn't have to live like that anymore. Such a strange experience forgetting what happiness was, and then feeling it again in that moment of all moments. But there it was. The next year I spent my time going to therapy and telling myself and anyone else I talked to that I was going to buy a van and live in Mexico during the winter months, and work the summer months in the US. I was so done with my life the way it was, my awful employer, and my then emotionally and mentally abusive partner, that it didn't matter that I knew I wouldn't get enough money from my tax return to pay for a van so I could make my plan happen. It didn't matter bc no matter what did happen, I was leaving, and was willing to be homeless just so I could. And in a way I did end up having to do that. But I still got out. I still left it behind. It and 25 years of pain and sorrow peppered with some good times and good laughs. But mostly sadness and bitter regret.

I got laid off (20), then I got fired before getting laid off (20), then won my appeal hearing and got to hear the adjudicator verbally read my old manager to absolute filth in a moment of pure vengeful glory (20), then left the awful apartment (20), and the awful ex that was already my ex but was forced to continue to live with bc we were poor and it was southern California (20), then I lived in a tent on my mom's property in the mountains (20), then I drove cross country to the east coast (20), then I lived with a kinky man for a year and decompressed and shakily got back on my feet (20/21), then moved again sad from breaking up but glad to be totally on my own (21), to my grandmother passing away (21), to getting a job that is the least embarrassing to have as someone without a degree (21), to finally providing myself with my own stability, enough that I'm able to enjoy hobbies without feeling guilty (22), and finally being ready to enjoy one of my biggest kinks/fetishes (22).

Idk if that run on sentence is done being written yet. The rest of this shit better just be a nice fucking ride, though. I've done enough. I've experienced enough. It's shaped me enough. THAT'S ENOUGH SLICES. We will now resume the predominantly breeding and pregnancy talk.

[noramoons]

for reasons wretched and divine:

act i ↠ part ii

↠ pairing: bang chan x fem reader (afab)

↠ genre: wolf demon au, greek mythology au, demon!stray kids

↠ word count: 2.5k

↠ rating: mature/18+

↠ warnings: language, violence, torture, smut, more warnings to be added

↠ summary: You’ve heard stories about the Lykos clan for your entire life. You know the rules about dealing with demons - never look them in the eye, never trespass on a shrine without an offering, and never walk in their territory alone.

When did you forget to listen?

| previous | next | masterlist | also posted on ao3!

A grim smile makes its way across his features. "Then you're stuck here, I'm afraid. You're in an entirely different realm, human girl—and I have no idea how to get you back."

"A different realm?" you repeat. "But I...I was just walking through the Wilds. I'm pretty sure I'd be able to tell if I suddenly showed up in a different..." You start to trail off, because the minute those words leave your mouth, you remember—

You start towards your right, going around where you can feel the presence in hopes of beating it to the edge of the woods. Before long, though, a feeling that you haven't known in years suddenly overwhelms you.

You're lost.

You had been able to tell the instant you appeared in the Citadel—you just hadn't known that was where you were.  It doesn't explain how the hell you got here, but you do know that it happened now.

"The Wilds, huh?" he says. "Is that what you call the Pantheon now?"

You nod.

He shrugs. "No one's gone in or out of the realms since the uprising. I didn't think the Pantheon still functioned as an entryway. Or an exit, for that matter. Did you first see the Koraki member in your world, or this one?"

"Mine," you answer. "It followed me as I was leaving work. I tried to lose it, but it got in front of me, somehow, and then I ended up here."

The man's frown deepens. "Yeah—I really have no idea how you could've gotten here. Or how that Koraki could've left the Citadel—so I don't even know where to start on sending you back, either."

You aren't sure what's worse—the way your stomach drops at his words, or the sharp pain that suddenly resonates from your leg.

The man takes notice of your leg for the first time. "Oh—nasty cut you got there. From the Koraki member, I assume?"

You nod, wincing. "Is that the name of that clan? Are they all...birds? Like that?"

He knits his eyebrows as he frowns. "The last time I saw a human, they knew all about the deity clans. Practically had more information on them than me. What's happened in the Interior?"

"I...well, I don't know if it's everywhere, but my hometown hasn't taught anything about the deity clans in a long time. I don't think anyone even thinks you're all alive anymore—except for my grandmother, I guess. She tried to teach me what she remembered, but I don't ever remember hearing Koraki in there."

The man's frown deepens at that, but he doesn't say anything else about the topic. "Look, you're pretty scratched up there. The smell of human blood will carry for miles around here; I'm sure there's already several other clans making a move for you right now. You'd better head back with me if you'd like to avoid getting eaten alive."

You take a step back on your good foot. "Why should I believe you don't want to eat me alive too?"

At that, he throws his head back and laughs. "Do I look like a man-eater to you?"

You narrow your eyes. "Do you want me to be honest?"

He laughs again. "Oh gods, I don't remember humans being this funny. You're a riot, pretty girl. Look—" he says, pulling back his top lip with one thumb—"these teeth might be sharp, but I promise they've never eaten any human."

His canines did look sharp—but it was only those teeth that looked different than yours. You think about what you saw in the beak of that Koraki clan bird—the four rows of sharp fangs, all filed to perfect points. "Why not?" you ask. "You're a demon...aren't you?"

The man grins at you, moving his hands to perch on his hips, and now it's like those slightly curved canines are the only thing you can focus on. "Well, aren't you the perceptive one! How about I make you a deal—you come back to my clan's home, we'll get your leg patched up, and I'll explain to you why we don't eat humans. How does that sound?"

Your grandmother's words flash to the front of your mind. Don't ever make a deal with a demon, Y/N—they're always out for a loophole that'll get them what they want, and always at your expense, too.

But what could he gain from tending to your wound and explaining something you asked him to? You'd thought deals with demons always had to do with things like your soul, or your life, or your firstborn child, or something equally fucked up.

He can tell you're not convinced. "You need to choose, and fast. I'm telling you, there's other clans on their way here." He suddenly drops to the ground and presses his ear to the dirt, listening intently. It's only a few moments later than he looks up at you with a grim expression. "It's the Fidis—I think the Interior folks always called them the snake clan. They'll get here much faster than anyone else will, and it won't be pretty. C'mon," he urges again, reaching a hand out towards you. "You can either take your chances with Fidis, or you can follow me."

You absolutely don't want to admit that you don't have any other choice. But the man—demon, your brain reminds you—is someone you at least know something about, even if it's only a few details. And he hasn't tried to kill you (yet?). With the Fidis clan, you don't know a thing about them or what their intentions would be upon finding a bleeding human in their woods. Like it or not—going with this demon is your only logical choice.

You take his hand, and he grins at you. "It won't be too far to get back to the rest of the clan. I'll introduce you to everyone!"

"How about starting with you?" you ask, in a moment of unusual bravery.

"You want me to introduce myself? But I've just saved you from a starving Koraki clan member. I thought we'd skipped the formalities!"

You laugh a little, even though you chide yourself almost immediately for it. Demons are always charming, Y/N, you hear your grandmother chastise. Don't let yourself be fooled. "Look, can you just tell me your name at least?"

"My name? Sure!" he replies, beaming. "It's Felix. What's yours?"

You tell him, and his smile grows. "That's a good one. C'mon—let's get going."

You start to follow him, but you wince, pained, and stop after only a few steps forward. "I'm sorry," you say. Your leg feels like it's shooting liquid fire through your veins. "It—fuck—my leg. It really hurts."

He frowns, crouching down to look at the wound. "No kidding," he says after a moment. "This is much deeper than I thought it was—what'd that Koraki member do, drag you around with its talons in your leg?"

"Pretty much," you say under your breath. If he hears you, he doesn't respond—but he does tug at the fabric on one of his sleeves until it tears, giving him about a foot and a half of cloth that he instantly wraps around the wound above your ankle, tying it in a knot before you can even blink.

"There," Felix says, stepping back to admire his work. "That should hold until we get back. I'm not quite sure if I could carry you all the way, though, so let me see what I can dig up here." He scrounges around the forest floor for a moment, and you think you'd probably laugh if the situation was about anyone else.

After a few minutes, he returns with a few sticks almost as tall as you, bound with the cloth from his other sleeve. "This should work as a crutch! Or I hope it does, at least. Otherwise, I might just drag you back by your other ankle."

You look up at him, shocked, but there's no malice in his expression. He's...joking. "Please don't," you say, and Felix laughs.

"Will it work?"

You tuck the bundle of sticks under your arm and propel yourself forward with it, keeping your bound ankle off the ground. "It should," you tell him. "I'm just not sure how fast I'll be."

His smile fades a little at that. "Well—let's just aim to be as fast as we can, then."

You follow behind him on an eastern path out of the woods, but the silence starts to bother you after a few minutes.

"What clan do you belong to?" you ask, and you think you may already know the answer.

Felix grins at you, and all you can focus on are those canines again. "Lykos. The wolves."

Y/N, the Lykos clan is the most dangerous, you hear your grandmother echo in your memories. They're the fiercest of any of the demon clans, and the most bloodthirsty by far. They've consumed so many humans that they've gained complete access to all of their wolf variants—including control of the moon. Before you were born, they would terrorize all the seafaring towns, saying that they'd only keep the tides the same for the fishermen if the town gave the Lykos clan human sacrifices.

You stop in your tracks, but Felix doesn't notice for a few steps. When he finally does, he turns his head around, frowning. "What is it?"

You balance his words from before with the ones of your grandmother from years ago. Despite what she'd said, you know he's right—as much as you'd rather not admit it, the Lykos clan is your only hope right now.

"Nothing," you tell him after a moment that you both know is far too long to be nothing.

Felix narrows his eyes at you, but doesn't press you further. "Come on," he says as you start limping forward again. "We're almost there. You see that?" he asks, pointing forward at the mountain range ahead of the two of you. "That's it! The Lykos clan's home."

"The whole mountain?" you ask, your eyes widening.

He nods. "Mmm-hmm. It was the entire mountain range back when the King was first put on the council—but the uprising took care of that."

It's the second time he's mentioned an uprising, but you can't say you're surprised a demon in the Citadel is being vague. Besides, you soon realize you don't have time to wonder about anything of the sort—not after you start to see heads and tails making their way impossibly quickly down the hill to your right.

"Shit," Felix says, following your gaze. "The Fidis clan caught up with us. We have to run."

Just the thought of putting pressure on your leg now makes you want to cry. "Felix—I can't."

His eyes dart to yours. "Let's just see how far we can get, then. I'll make sure you get inside the mouth of the cave."

"What about you?"

Felix grins. "I think you've got more than enough on your plate right now than worrying about some demon in the Citadel, right? Just get yourself inside the mountain."

You're surprised at the hurtful chord his words strike in your chest—but he's right, isn't he? Shouldn't you be more concerned about yourself?

You don't have time to keep wondering as the Fidis clan continues their rapid approach over the hill. At this rate, you think there's no way you'll reach the entrance to the mountain before the snakes—and judging by the grim expression on Felix's face, he's probably thinking the same thing.

The Fidis clan members are close enough that you can see the whites of their eyes, and it's then that you realize that's the only color present there. No pupil, no iris—just the same clear white throughout.

You can finally see the entrance to the cave at the bottom of the mountain Felix had mentioned—it can't be more than fifty yards away now, but the Fidis clan is even closer than that too. Felix stops suddenly, moving in front of you.

"Go ahead. I'll make sure they don't follow you."

You frown. "Felix, are you su—"

"No time!" he says, shoving you forward lightly. "Go. Don't turn around."

The pit of worry in your stomach grows, but you propel yourself forward anyway. You finally, finally make it to the mouth of the cave at the bottom of the mountain, but a hand grabs you by the arm and pins you against the side of the mountain.

"What the hell do you think—" the man hisses before he suddenly seems taken aback by something, cutting himself off. "Holy shit...you're—"

"Jisung!" Felix calls out from fifty yards away. "Get over here, would you?"

Jisung glares at you before yanking you forward roughly, and it's only by digging your makeshift crutch into the ground that you keep from falling. You notice that his short, dark hair nearly reflects blue in the sunlight. "You're coming with me, then." It isn't a question.

You'd protest more if you could walk, but it's all you can do to keep yourself upright as Jisung drags you back towards Felix.

Felix's face pales when he turns and sees you being pulled behind the other demon, but you see him set his mouth in a straight line before he turns to face the oncoming horde of Fidis clan members.

Despite the long, winding tails that trail behind them, they look human from the waist up—except for the one in front who is covered in scales entirely: arms, chest, head, and all. This one makes his way towards Felix, but he looks directly at you as he does.

"Out of our way, Lykos lackey," the head of the Fidis members spits. "That human is of no use to you, but she'd keep the Fidis clan strong for years. Hand her over."

"First come, first serve," Felix replies, grinning. "She's under our protection now. Go home, and we won't have any issues here."

"Hey, hang on," Jisung starts. "We haven't agreed on—"

"I said," Felix repeats, turning to face the other Lykos member. "She's under our protection."

The Fidis member crosses his arms across his scaled chest. "It seems like there's disagreement here. Why not just let us take her off your hands?"

Felix puts a hand out towards the approaching Fidis clan head. "Alright—let's make a deal. We'll hold a debate with the Lykos council. If the council decides against putting her under our protection, you're more than welcome to do with her as you please. We won't put up a fight."

Your stomach twists at his words.

"But if the Lykos council decides she's worth having under our protection, then you and all of your lackeys go home."

The Fidis head considers this for a moment, and then he smirks. "Alright—fine. I'll need an answer by sundown, or we're charging into the cave regardless."

"That's a declaration of war, you fuc—" Jisung starts, but Felix puts his other hand up against his chest.

"Perfect," Felix says, smiling pleasantly. "We'll have your answer by then."

[loki-is-my-god-of-mischief]

That's Why I Hate Halloween (Crowley x Male!Reader)

A/N: This was a contest entry on deviantart. Just to help you understand a bit of the story, one Gabriel is alive and Crowley doesn't appear in the story until the end. You are also Gabriel's twin. 

______________________________________________________________

"Come on boys, I've got us a case." (Y/N) says as he walks into the bunker. Castiel is God knows where, so it was just him and the Winchesters.

"How do we know that what you have is even a case?" Dean asks cockily. 'Honestly, just because I'm an angel doesn't mean I don't understand the difference between a case and a normal death' (Y/N) thought.

"Well...hmmm...let me see. Maybe because the vic's heads were ripped off and were described as mauled."

"Well, there you go mauled, not a case just a normal dea-" Dean starts.

"On the 12th floor of a hotel." (Y/N) finishes, smirking.

"Yeah, that sounds like a case to me, let's check it out." Sam says to which Dean eagerly agrees.

______________________________________________________________

The Winchesters and (Y/N) walk into the room of the murder, the stank of death hitting them immediately. They headed toward the policeman on duty, flashing their fake FBI badges. "Hello Officer, my name is Agent Young, this is my partner Agent Scott and our Rookie Agent Evans." Dean starts pointing to each, (Y/N) looking put out at being called a rookie.

"It's a pleasure to be working with you Agents, I'm Deputy Rudd. I'm really glad you’re here actually, I can't make heads or tails of this one." Rudd replied.

"This is the third one this week?" (Y/N) asked.

"Third one in the past three days unfortunately." We walked over to the body covered on the floor. Lifting the covering we could see that the head had been ripped completely off and the body's gender was almost unrecognisable. "Who was she?"

"Miss Lara Fry, 26 years old." With that the Deputy left to speak to the other officers.

"Seen anything odd?" Dean asks Sam who was observing the body. “It looks like an animal attack since the marks around, what is left of, the neck are made by teeth, probably canine."

"Meaning Werewolf or Hell Hound right?" (Y/N) asked.

"Seems the most likely. You two should check out the families, see if anyone has gotten lucky in the last ten years. I'll go to the library, see what I can find out about what they were up to in the last few days." Sam ordered. It was a good plan and the best one they had so they all agreed and set off to their allocated jobs.

______________________________________________________________

In the Fry Residence

"We are truly sorry for your loss Mrs. Fry." (Y/N) says soothingly. Mrs. Fry just smiles sadly in response. "Miss, please. I'm not a Mrs anymore, we have finally decided to go through with our divorce."

"Divorce?" Dean asks suddenly interested.

"Yeah, we were going to divorce when our baby girl was sixteen but decided to stay together for her. I'm...not entirely sure why though, we were at each other’s throats most of the time."

"I see, was the decision a spur of the moment or had you had a discussion about it?" (Y/N) asked, finally understanding Dean's interest in the matter.

"It was all so sudden actually, we were arguing one minute, then deciding to have another go for Lara's sake the next."

"Right. Thank you for your time Miss...."

"Constantine."

"Miss. Constantine. If you think of anything else, just give us a call." Dean says whilst handing her a card.

"Of course, Agents." With that they both left the house. (Y/N) decided to be the one to call Sam and tell him of the news they had found. "Anything?" Sam’s voice rings through the speaker.

"You'll never guess whose parents decided to magically stick together ten years ago."

"Lara's?"

"The one and only. So definitely Hell Hound. You find anything?"

"Yeah, a family of two...uh...The Oswald's. The mother's daughter survived stage four cancer and is still fit and healthy to this day."

"How long?"

"Ten years today." (Y/N) looks towards Dean and mouths 'Hunting Tonight'. "I've got a really bad feeling about this guys, something's not right."

"Stop being a wuss (Y/N)"

"Shut it Dean....We're on our way Sam."

______________________________________________________________

They followed Ms. Oswald all day and when night fell she went out back towards the barn. The boys and (Y/N) followed closely behind. When they were heading towards the barn, they lost sight of the woman they were tailing. "Where'd she go?" (Y/N) whispered. Suddenly, they each froze as they heard growling coming from behind them. Turning they saw nothing was there but the growling was getting closer. "I told you something was wrong."

"Hell Hound." Sam unnecessarily confirmed.

"RUN!" Dean shouted. They headed towards the barn, Sam ahead of the others as he was the fastest. When they reached the barn they closed the door and blocked it behind them.

It all becomes too much for (Y/N), the loud growling. The fear of death. He put his head into his hands and started to cry. Sam and Dean looked at him, no idea how to get out of the situation. The Angels were grounded, he couldn't fly out. They had promised Cas, they would look out for and protect him and now look. They have gotten another person in a deadly situation. They both approached him, Sam sitting next to him and wrapping his arm comfortingly around his shaking shoulders. Dean kneeling in front of him. Both apologising for getting him into this mess, arguing with each other over whose fault it was, then apologising some more.

(Y/N) started shaking more. This time however, for a different reason. Laughing. He was Laughing. He lifted his head to show no tears on his face and that he was full of laughter. The boys looked at him thoroughly confused. (Y/N) then gets up, walking toward the barn door. Before Sam or Dean could protest or stop him, he was already speaking. "Skylar! Down girl!" The Hell Hounds growling ceased immediately. "Good girl, go home now, good Skylar!" The only sound was of the Hell Hound leaving the barn and heading away. Sam and Dean were staring at (Y/N) astonished. "Wha...?" Suddenly the door opens up revealing one smirking Crowley and a certain someone’s twin angel, who couldn't control his laughing anymore. "Happy Halloween Boys!" (Y/N) says towards the very confused brothers.

"Wait...you?...the hound...but what about the case?" Sam asked once he figured out which question he wanted answered first.

"Was never real! Talk about a great Halloween prank, recommend picking treat next time boys" Gabriel replied, looking altogether way to smug for the brother's liking. Crowley walks toward (Y/N) wrapping his arms around his waist. "That was perfect love." He says smirking, his smirk then softening into a smile as he looks into his eyes, "I love you, my king." You had only just managed an 'I love you' back to Crowley before Dean ruined the moment by shouting "You planned this" Pointing very rudely at (Y/N).

"Yep!" was the chipper reply.

"And that, is why I hate Halloween." Dean mumbles sulkily.

[allmightluver]

**bnha spoilers** I'm just sat here with renewed realisation of what All Might is going through. 40 years. /40 years/ he held and refined that power and dedicated his every waking (and sleeping if Vigilantes is anything to go by) moment towards the goal of defeating AfO and creating a society in which people could feel happy and safe. And now as it turns out AfO is still alive, society is broken and he has given a literal piece of his soul to this young boy leaving himself with only phantoms

Yes. I don’t think people quite grasp what all he’s going through.

It’s been shown recently to us that some, if not most, heroes have underlying ambitions in becoming a hero. Whether for money, glory, fame, popularity, doesn’t matter. They’re ultimately in it for themselves. Toshinori’s intentions from the beginning have been the most pure- he wanted to be a symbol that people can look to and know things will be ok. A symbol of hope. This boy was only around 14 years old when he decided this. What kind of 14 year old sees the world that clearly? Sees that people have no hope, that a veil of darkness covers them. The only thing I can think of is- Toshinori did not have a good childhood. Something had to have happened to a boy that young to stop seeing the joy in life so early, and see the world’s flaws. Truthfully, I believe he was an outcast- due to his quirklessness. Most likely an orphan, perhaps abandoned by his parents, as we’ve never seen him have any family. I do truly believe Toshinori has been alone all his life. I don’t doubt more could have happened to him as a child before he met Nana. 

Some may argue that Izuku is the same age, and therefore it shouldn’t be that hard to see why Toshinori wanted to be a hero at such a young age. BUT, Izuku had someone to look up to, ever since he was a child of four years old, to inspire him to be a hero his whole life *cough cough* All Might. Izuku also was quirkless, much like Toshinori, and an outcast because of it (hence where I assume Toshinori was much the same). But ultimately, Izuku wanted to save people because he saw his hero do it. It really wasn’t until Izuku was a bit older, has been in UA, has been on rescue missions, has seen what the heroes see, that I think he’s truly realized how dark the world really is. Toshinori didn’t have that. He didn’t have someone to inspire him as a child, someone to look up to, a hero to inspire him to help others. At that time, heroes hadn’t become as popular as they are in present times. Toshinori saw the world for what it was, on his own, at a tender age. I think that day Nana ran into this blonde hair kid, she eyed him up, noticed his scraggly form, looked into those captivating blue eyes, and saw a man who’s lived through the world’s horrors- experienced the worst it has to offer-, and wants to save everyone he can from the same fate, all in a 14 year old boy. 

Then after only a few short years with the woman he saw as his mother, she’s killed in front of him because of his own weakness- he wasn’t strong enough yet to protect her. The only other person his life, Gran Torino, literally abused him. He beat him to a pulp, taking his own emotions out on a teenager, and I doubt Toshinori said anything of it. He probably thought he deserved it. He’s still afraid of Gran Torino to this day, remembering the beatings and expecting more for his failures- even if he doesn’t know what they are surely he’s at fault for something, but he’s the only person who’s stood by his side for this long. Even while at a distance, and spouting nothing but criticisms along the way. But Toshinori had to put aside his own emotions to be that hope for everyone. He left everything he knew to go to a new country on his own, to learn how to be a hero, to be that hope for someone.

Vigilantes showed us just how hard he worked. Toshinori literally stayed awake with no sleep for days on end- 3 in the chapter I’m referencing- because people needed help, people needed saving, and no one else stepped up. He fought villains, rescued civilians, repaired damage, cleared rubble, (even accept and eat food that was against his dietary restrictions after his injury) whatever the public needed, all while draining himself further. He worked himself to the point of exhaustion because he had no help, once literally falling asleep while mid-leap across the city because he simply could go no further. 

^^These happen in succession of each other^^

No one stepped up to say “Hey, Mr. Number 1, you’ve been working hard lately. Let me help you!” No one tried to take over his position. Even the Number 2 hero, Endeavor, never tried to take some of his burden. His only goal was to try to be better than All Might in terms of power- he was never trying to be the hero that the people relied on All Might for. Everyone relied on him when things looked grim. He was the back up plan. And all of this happened before Toshinori’s injury. 

The only thing he ever wanted to do- help people- he can’t do (at least the way he’s always known how to). The ability to save people has been taken from him in the most gruesome way. He was finally able to fight the man that killed Nana, and in a rage that I’m sure echoed with all of the emotions of the previous users, he smashed that man’s head like a grape. But not without consequence. Several organs are gone. The pain is excruciating. He wears that man’s mark on his body for the rest of his life, never truly able to rid himself of the filth.

Then we have Nighteye’s betrayal. The man that helped him as a sidekick, the man that grew to be his only friend. Now some people may ask why Toshinori flipped like he did to Nighteye looking into his future when he was concerned about him making it through his injury. What I believe is Toshinori didn’t want to know when he would die (and really, who does). Now he knows he’s on a time limit, knows the clock is ticking. Time is running out to keep the world at peace, and with him as he is now, how long can this go on? 

I think the betrayal, doing something that Toshinori specifically asked him not to do, is what hurt the most. How can he trust Nighteye anymore? He already can only count on one hand the people he can trust, let alone befriend.

He’s wasted away into a skeleton, a shell of the man he used to be. He can’t over exert himself without his only lung bleeding in protest. It’s canon in the side books that he really doesn’t eat much, which isn’t good for his diet without a stomach now (he’s supposed to have several small meals a day). He is quite literally punishing himself by starving. (Granted, he doesn’t feel hunger anymore.) He’s a sick man, beyond medical help at this point. They can only stabilize him and hope for the best. For five years now he’s in constant pain, every day. He loses blood like sweat. Surely his veins are bruised and collapsed with how many times he would have needed to be hospitalized. Whether from losing too much blood, being too dehydrated or starved from “forgetting” to eat, or an organ failing as body continues to fall apart. “...even as my body rots and grows frail...” - Toshinori People are bound to stare at him as he walks down the street. A tall, willowy, skeleton with a grimace on his face and blood stains on his clothes as he coughs up more into his own hands. There would be the ones who outright ignore him when they walk by, the people who offer pitying smiles and sympathetic glances or just outright stare, and then ones who are afraid of his appearance- children screaming at the mere sight of him and running to their parents to hide from the monster. Each one is another knife in Toshinori’s side, an ache in his chest. If only they knew who I really am.

Losing Nighteye took a toll on his hero work as well. Mirai was a huge help in the past, and took care of all Toshinori’s paperwork, while also reminding him to take care of himself. Without him, Toshinori was even more buried beneath his responsibilities. Plus, now he was on a time limit. He even snapped briefly in his first meeting with Tsukauchi, accidentally revealing himself as All Might because he was under too much pressure, and telling the detective he literally couldn’t handle doing everything by himself (who graciously took over the paperwork side of things for him). 

He was living a double life now, having to lie to people left and right about who he was while in his small form, about how he became so sickly, why he was here in the first place who the heck is this skinny old guy. Surely he had multiple visits to the doctor while continuing to repair the damage done by AFO (there’s a limit to how much the body can handle at once. And things I’m sure continued to fail as time went on). Then he would be bedridden for as long as the doctors could keep him strapped to a bed, until he couldn’t take the people’s cries for help any longer, and would jump into action. (It’s also revealed he has something of a super hearing- able to hear danger- which may have been a form of danger sense of OFA that was never fully unlocked?. Either way, he surly could sense disasters happening while he could only lay and heal from his latest surgery. Those poor doctors must have had to re-stitch him several times). People blame him for not preparing society for his retirement, that he failed in passing on the torch so to speak, but in reality he did everything possible to keep society from falling for 40 years, doing all within his power just to keep things afloat. He is only one person. One human being, he can’t do everything despite trying to. Society failed All Might.

People blame him for not being a good teacher. He didn’t exactly have the greatest teacher himself to learn from. He’s never had to teach anyone anything, he just punches! He’s learning. And for his own credit, he’s an incredibly wise man, he has years of experience under his belt, and an intelligence score of 6/6, scoring up there with Nezu! He may not always have the right way to bring something up, but he’s doing his best. Yet even he blames himself for Izuku not being able to control his quirk better. Every time the boy hurts himself, it’s just another tally on the chalkboard of Toshinori’s failures. He himself knows the boy deserves better, better than him. Useless. Pathetic.

Then his friend from America, Dave, essentially became a villain trying to preserve Toshinori’s legacy after Toshinori told him about his injury. Dave went behind his back, threatened people, injured people (pretty sure people died), all for Toshinori’s sake. Something he didn’t want to begin with. Having to put your only other friend in jail for trying to help you surely couldn’t have been easy.

Oh, by the way? All For One isn’t dead. All Might will fight him again, publicly, have his weakened form exposed to the world, and have his own emotions toyed with as he finds out about his master’s grandson in the villain’s hands. Would Nana hate him for leaving her son alone like she’d asked, and dooming her grandchild to be raised by the greatest villain? Could he have done anything to save him? But Toshinori isn’t allowed to feel, he has to smile and push his own feelings aside once again, because there’s a villain to be fought, and only he can fight him. Despite coming out on top, he’ll have suffered severe head trauma, broken left arm, destroyed right arm, and several cuts and bruises that are sure to scar. And then, his quirk, the only thing that’s been allowing him to help people, the gift given to him that he carefully held for 40 years and molded into his own until his very consciousness was permanently carved into it, blows out like a match in the wind. And he’s done. Used up. Empty. Broken. Hollow. Alone, again.

He overhears his student, Bakugo, admit that he blames himself for All Might’s retirement. If he hadn’t been captured, All Might wouldn’t have had to save him, and he wouldn’t have had to fight AFO. Of course Toshinori knows that’s not true, his time was about to run out anyway. It would have happened one way or another. But how can he explain to this child that he wasn’t the cause of his hero, the world’s greatest hero, fighting for his sake, bleeding for his sake, being forced into retirement to keep him safe. Every time Bakugo sees the bandages covering Toshinori’s body is another reminder of the pain and sacrifice Toshinori willingly gave to keep him safe. Toshinori wasn’t held when his mentor died. He wasn’t told it was ok to be sad, that grief and mourning was a natural process, that it takes time to heal. He wasn’t told it was ok to cry. Instead his feelings were beaten out of him as he wondered if Gran Torino blamed him for Nana’s death. He already blamed himself How then, does he comfort a child mourning for him? For what he lost.

And then he gets the call to come to the hospital. Mirai, Nighteye, his old sidekick friend, has been gravely injured, much like he himself was only a few years ago, and most likely won’t survive the night. And to his horror, Nighteye is happy to see him, smiles at him, says he doesn’t hate him for what happened, only wants Toshinori to be happy. He can’t accept that, at least let him apologize, reconcile his sins before it’s too late! But it is. Another fractured piece of his heart gone.

Of course, seeing your students beat up and their arms completely destroyed must have hurt. Instead of being able to save these kids, they’re the ones that hurt themselves to save everyone else. And if Bakugo had kept OFA, things could have been very different (especially with what we know now of OFA and people with quirks). Toshinori wasn’t mad at Izuku for transferring it away, he’d never regret choosing Izuku, and I believe he still would have stayed by Izuku and Bakugo’s side should it have stayed in Bakugo, doing whatever he could to help.

As he tells Aizawa, “I’ve decided to live,” -that statement seems so melancholy, besides obvious reasons. It sounds more like another task he has to accomplish. He didn’t die he was supposed to die with the AFO fight, and now the whole life he lived is over. The world has no use for him anymore. If not for Izuku, he’d have nothing left keeping him here. But because his boy made him promise to live, he’ll do so. Though it almost seems like he says those words with regret. “I’ve decided to live.” Not, “I’m going to live!” “Nothing can kill me!” “I won’t go down without a fight!” No. “I’ll live if I have to, only because you asked me to.” The man is obviously and outwardly depressed. He has so many things against him. No doubt has severe PTSD, anxiety, among others. Not to mention his own physical health. Every day hurts. It’s painful to be alive. Why would he torture himself if he doesn’t have to? For you, my boy. You’re the only thing keeping me here. The only light in my dark world.

He tries to help Izuku find out the previous holder’s quirks, to help his boy in any way he can now that he’s worthless, and goes days on end without sleep, running his body into the ground. He even forgets Christmas. Only to find that by giving the boy the same gift he had received, he may have just doomed him to an early death, among psychological torture (danger detection). (Granted, he really doesn’t know how everything works, and he’s afraid to talk to anyone about it). His boy could live only half a life.

It’s only been a few months since he retired, and society has fallen into shambles. People are blaming him. People are dying. He watches helplessly as his colleague fight his fight for him, and end up battered, bruised, crippled, dead. He students, his boy, battle the monster he should have killed. Children are bleeding. This shouldn’t happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Is everything he worked for, everything he fought to protect, to build up, to inspire, is all for naught?! Did he live a foolish dream and doom the world? Was all the the friends he lost, tears he shed, the organs he destroyed, the pain he endures on a daily basis from the hole in his side, and the blood he continues to bleed every day, for nothing? The public, the ones he protected for so long, mourn his absence, but surely there are those among them who also blame him. The statue from his last fight in Kamino one that he never asked for was decimated in a mock of his catch phrase- the one that was supposed to give hope.

Now he can feel his own vestige speaking with Izuku in the OFA realm, even with out OFA in his own body anymore. His clock as nearly reached it’s limit, Nighteye’s prediction is due any day now. The only thing he wants is to see his boy smile at him, to give him some shred of hope. Yet the child remains unconscious, and Toshinori can’t even hold his hand from the bandages covering his arms. Will he still be able to fight? Is there any coming back from this now? Did I break him?

With all Toshinori has been through, I’m honestly surprised we haven’t seen him just outright break down. Anyone, anyone, else should have crumbled under the pressure of holding up the world for 40 years alone. And instead of being able to pass it on to someone when he can no longer bear its weight, it simply falls to into the abyss. People don’t credit All Might enough for everything he’s done. Most don’t realize the sacrifices he’s made. His character is so unbelievably profound and deep, it’s more than just the “I am here!” people focus on. He’s a deeply troubled, layered, complex character. And I can’t find fault within him.