#IM OFF THE RAILS AGAIN LADS

[charliebug3]

Alright lads what up it's ya boi back with another crack video game lore theory but this time it's about the ark animated series because the Brainrot has gotten sooo bad dude help me

Anyway here's my theory on Rockwell's backstory based entirely on approximately 2 seconds of teasers and a singular drawing in the background. I'm expecting basically all of this to be incorrect I just think it's fun to speculate. Im tagging it as spoilers anyway just to be safe

1. He had a daughter named Charlotte (based on the drawing of a young girl in his study, which is who he likely name-drops in the part 2 teaser. I'm assuming daughter because it could serve as a bit of a stand-in for Helena's role in the game lore. Or a prerequisite. Bro is not escaping fatherhood no matter what version of the lore we go with and I think that's funny) [side note it's extremely cursed that that happens to be my name as well, Wildcard out of all the feminine English names you could have picked why did it have to be that one I'm goign to implode]

2. She died (bonus points if she dies of some illness that Rockwell himself recovers from, for that extra survivor's guilt)

3. Rockwell tried to lose himself in his work to cope, unfortunately said work happened to be early studies on Element and he started going off the rails about its potential of creation and modification, and no one believed him about its potential so they thought he's just genuinely insane (hence the "what is God compared to the genius of man" type comment. This would also parallel Helena being responsible for the early concept of recreating extinct creatures, much later used in the ARKs. He came up with the how, she came up with the why)

4. He got mercilessly locked up in an asylum and started to further deteriorate due to isolation (given how they've handled other characters I'm assuming this will be presented as a Bad Thing by the show. Like I don't think it'll be framed as "lol he deserved it" I think it'll be "hey this is why maybe we support struggling people instead of locking them away and forgetting about them")

5. He eventually dies and then wakes up on the ARK, cue extra "why did I get another chance and not my daughter" pain

6. While on the ARK he starts obsessing over Element again to prove to himself that he was always right about it and didn't deserve what happened to him

7. The Element starts inevitably corrupting him and from here we follow the old lore path yippee!!

If any of this comes true I will be eating drywall btw. Drinking paint. Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure etc etc

[talesfromeorzea]

Captain FFXivWrite2024 Make up Entry for Day 20 Prompt: Duel

"Ye think ye can just waltz on 'ere and take me ship?" The old Roegadyn snarled looking Ryna in the eye, "Well ye got another thing comin cause I aien't afraid o ye 'are."

"And I aient gonna let ye sell these folks like chattle so aye I'll waltz 'ere and where'ever I please when folks be sufferin."

The Roe spat on the deck and snarled, "Then we settle this the old way cause I aient surrenderin me ship or me cargo to ye 'are."

"Captain don't," his first mate begged, "Ye know the 'are aient never missed a shot…"

"Nor 'ave I Siward so shut yer yap n get the pistols!"

The Hyur sighed and went below eyeing with no small amount of fear the Viera standing there before his captain her demon of a beast perched on her shoulder looking to most to be an innocent creature. Siward new better he'd heard the stories about that long eared menace lighting entire ships up in an instant.

Moments later he returned to the deck and opened the box holding two pistols equal in dignity and let both the Crimson Hare and the Captain take one. The pair loaded the pistols then squared off before going back to back as Captain Elildraga growled, "Five paces then we turn and fire, survivor is Captain and decides the chattle's fate."

"Five paces," was all the Viera said and then they both stepped out.

At four steps the Roegadyn turned intending to shoot the Viera in the back only to have her whirl and fire before he had a chance to pull his trigger. Red blossomed on his breast and he stumbled backward before slamming into the rail then dropped overboard dead before he hit the sea.

Turing to the remainder of the crew Ryna called, "Ye 'eard 'im I'm yer Captain now an ye got this one chance surrender and save yer sorry lives or fight te the end and face me, don't think I need an introduction do I?"

Several of the crew simply ran to the rail and leapt overboard choosing the mercy of the Rhotano over hers. The first mate simply asked, "Can we take at least an away boat?"

Ryna nodded, "Aye take one and whatever trash ye have aboard but." she looked at the remainder there standing on deck, "No funny business wi the folks below. Ye leave them there or yer life is forfiet ye savy?"

He gulped and nodded and began prepping an away boat as others of the crew followed one or two decided they were going to try her and he heard the dreaded words, "Light em up Amber!" Followed by pained screams as those who had rushed her erupted into flames and bolted across the deck before leaping into the sea below.

Several of her crew seeing what was going on boarded and began watching those that remained to ensure they followed her orders. Others of her crew went below presumably to unlock the poor souls chained in hull there Siward didn't care his life meant more to him than some coin for folk and she had proven to be as ruthless as he had heard. After a few moments he launched the boat with several of the crew within as well and murmured, "Well lads dunno bout ye but I don't wanna cross the 'ares path again. Lets get the hells outta 'ere."

He then began to row away and not long after he saw the people who had been in the hold being moved to the Briar seen to by the crew of that ship. Once the old Sahagin was cleared he watched as once again the woman's demon glowed with a terrifying red and orange light before the ship erupted into flames the heat still felt from the short distance he had managed to get the away boat to. He watched his old home burn as he continued to row silently vowing to never trade folks again for fear of not escaping that woman and her demons fiery wrath a second time.

[stunt-lads]

Ecks.... ecks ecks ecks. Tell me about werewolf!richie and vampire!eddie sex. 👀👀👀

The first time it happens is a few weeks after the...incident. 

It’s not Eddie’s fault he can’t stop thinking about the way Richie said it. “You smell like you’re mine.” It wasn’t embarrassment lacing his tone that night. It was reverence. A vulnerability. Like it meant something intimate to Richie.

Eddie...doesn’t know a lot about werewolf hierarchy, he knows they have packs and that’s about it, but he knows he hasn’t stopped thinking about Richie more or less claiming him since that night. 

He needs to talk to someone, convince him not to fucking do what he’s thinking about doing. He approaches Stan. Stan’s level headed, will knock some sense into him. 

“So,” Stan says, after Eddie explains everything, even the...marking, “You came to me to ask for my blessing or?” 

Eddie groans, slamming his head down on the table and hearing the wood groan dangerously under him.

“No, I came here to have you convince me not to do this.” 

“Why the fuck would I do that?” And Stan sounds so affronted Eddie picks his head up and looks at him.

“Because he’s a werewolf?” Eddie says it slow, wondering how Stan doesn’t get it. 

“Eddie, in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t adhere to the rules of the Council.” Stan says like Eddie’s an idiot, and really, maybe he is, “If you want to fuck that werewolf who pissed on you then do it.” Eddie squawks indignantly at the piss comment, “We’re immortal creatures, we should be allowed to have fun. Fuck what the Council dictates for us.” 

Well. 

Stan’s no help. 

But he does make a valid point, so Eddie bites the bullet and decides to go for it. If Richie’s into it then sweet, maybe he’ll get dicked down, if not then he tried and he’ll go find a human to get mediocre sex from before feeding and getting drunk. 

Either way it sounds like a good night.

He finds Richie’s apartment easily enough, there’s a strong odor of wolf that has him wrinkling his nose a little, but it’s to be expected with three of them living in close proximity to each other. 

He knocks firmly, hoping they won’t make him wait too long. He feels overdressed in his deep navy suit and he’s already gotten several Looks from people on the street. 

Right now he’s getting eyed up by a human who’s eyes are full of a hunger Eddie’s never even seen on the nastiest vampire. 

His thoughts are interrupted by Richie answering the door. His hair is a disheveled mess and he’s in sweatpants and a stained tshirt. Still, when he sees him and registers who he is, he smiles broadly. 

“Eddie Spaghetti!” His smile falters when he sees the way Eddie is actively turned away from the street, keeping his body close to the doorway and in the shadows it casts. Almost immediately his eyes snap to the human who’s been staring at Eddie and go hard, steely, possessive. Eddie feels a shiver go down his spine. 

“Why don’t you come inside.” It’s not a request and Eddie’s legs go weak. But he obeys, walking in like he’s not about to collapse onto the floor from arousal at any second. 

Richie shoots a glare at the human across the street and closes the door hard behind them, but then he’s cheerful again, eager and excitable like he was before. Like when he first saw Eddie was there. 

He had a plan, was going to woo Richie a little, treat him to a nice dinner maybe, but those thoughts go out the window when he’s assaulted by his scent inside the apartment. Richie’s talking animatedly, showing Eddie the place and not once letting his smile falter. 

Eddie has retained nothing. It’s a buzz of noise in the background as he watches the way Richie gestures wildly with his hands. 

“Are your roommates home?” He blurts out and Richie pauses, actually freezes mid gesture.  “No. Bill had a book signing thing and I think Ben went out with—” He cuts him off with a kiss, wasting no time in pulling his face down to meet him and Richie is shocked enough that he freezes for a moment, eyes wide and confused before he snaps to attention and growls softly in his chest. A deep sound that has Eddie moaning in the kiss. 

It takes very little time to get to Richie’s room. 

Eddie loses his jacket and tie somewhere along the way, and when he’s pushed to the bed he hears tearing fabric and the soft sounds of button’s popping off and flying into the wall. He moans and shivers, body tense at the display of power. 

“Mine.” Richie growls, eyes glowing yellow with the threat of transformation, his wolf is as much into this as he is, staking claim over Eddie with bites and scratches. 

“Fuck, Richie, c’mon fuck me.” He tangles his fingers in Richie’s hair and pulls him close, purring into his ear, “Show me I’m yours.” 

It was a gamble but it pays off. Richie snarls, roughly turning him over onto all fours and Eddie rolls his eyes.  “Really? Doggy-style? A bit on the nose isn’t it?” He snarks out but Richie simply huffs against his back, ripping the material of his shirt from his body and exposing him to the cool air of the apartment and Richie’s hot breath against his back.

The preparation is probably a little less thorough than Eddie would’ve liked but he and Richie have been dancing around this for weeks and they’re both a bit desperate. So when he pulls out his fingers, Eddie’s pants only down around his thighs, giving Richie access without him removing them completely, and he feels his cock in their place he knows it’s gonna hurt. Richie is fucking big.

Eddie doesn’t know if it’s the wolf in him or just his natural dick but the stretch is a lot. 

When he bottoms out inside him Eddie breathes heavily, expecting Richie to set a hard pace immediately. He’s pleasantly surprised when he pauses, panting softly and pressing open mouthed kisses to his back and shoulders. 

Eddie’s completely enamored. 

“Alright, big guy,” Eddie says finally, body adjusted enough and impatience getting to him, “Fuck me up.” 

“Fuck, Eds I’m—The wolf—bites? Are bites okay?” Richie whimpers before he starts moving, Eddie can feel the tension in his body the way Richie is shaking and trying so hard not to give into his baser instincts. 

“Fuck, yes Richie, please just fucking move.” Eddie is not above begging, but he’d really rather not. Thankfully the answer seems enough for Richie and the pace he sets is fast and brutal. His hands grip Eddie’s hips tight enough that, were he human, they'd likely break a bone or crush his pelvis.

Eddie feels his nails elongate just a little as Richie fucks him, and Eddie moans, low and deep at the feeling of his nails digging into him. He doesn’t think Richie will fully transform for this but he’s filing it away as an idea for the future. 

The first bite is hesitant, a barely there press of teeth on skin where his shoulder meets his neck. Eddie would huff in frustration if he could, instead he snaps out a broken, “Bite me properly or don’t put your mouth on me.” where his voice shakes and cracks and it takes away from the heat of the sentiment. 

But Richie responds with a deep growl, a sound Eddie feels more than he hears and the next bite breaks skin. He can feel the tear of his flesh and his arms give out. He groans, body shaking as he’s pushed violently close to the edge of orgasm. Richie’s grip on his hips is the only thing keeping him up. 

“Richie,” His voice is broken already, he’d be embarrassed but he can’t feel anything but heat. He’s run cold since his turn but now he feels like he’s walking on the sun. Warmth is consuming him and he even feels sweat pooling in the small of his back as Richie pounds relentlessly into him. 

“Mine,” Richie growls again but it sounds so far from a voice that Eddie wonders, if he turned to look, whether Richie would be more wolf than human at this point. The thought sends a rush through him that intensifies when Richie shifts just enough that each push in has him grinding against Eddie’s prostate, making him see stars as his vision goes white at the edges. 

“Fuck, yeah, yours, shit,” He’s not...sure what he’s saying now but Richie seems to like it, his breathing is heavy against Eddie’s shoulder.

It’s not the first time Eddie’s come untouched, but it’s the first time in a long time. 

Eddie isn’t sure what finally pushes him over, but he thinks it might be the feel of Richie’s knot stretching and sinking into him over and over until it’s too big and all Richie can do is grind against him as he comes inside him. He thinks he maybe passes out for a moment because when he’s aware again Richie has them laying side by side, his cock still inside him as he kisses at the bite marks he’s left littering his back and shoulders. His fingers don’t feel as sharp now, as he rubs his thumbs gently along Eddie’s bruised hips. 

“So, that was something.” Eddie says, voice hoarse and Richie huffs a laugh. 

“Yeah.” He hums in agreement and then Richie shows a tenderness that has Eddie’s chest aching a little as he kisses at the nape of his neck. Eddie can do fucks. He can do sex so easily and readily. But the softness makes him wary, he’s afraid. Instead of thinking too hard about that he inhales deeply, unnecessary but a habit that’s been hard to break, and speaks lowly.

“How long are we...?” He gestures vaguely in the direction of Richie’s dick.

“Like...20 minutes? I could pull out now but,” He shifts his hips back and the pull of the knot makes Eddie moan, a needy sound that Richie pauses at before he clears his throat before continuing, voice a bit more strained, “But it’s not comfortable.”

Eddie pauses, like he’s considering it. Then he smirks a little to himself as he speaks, voice light.

“No, leave it in. It’ll make round two easier.” 

“Jesus Christ, Eddie.” Richie whines against his neck and Eddie laughs. 

[bubblecarr]

can you mute posts? how do you mute posts? i have seen the same post 20 fucking times i get it !

[1kook]

commercial break ; TEN

this is part of my netflix & chill series takes place directly after vickey & hickeys !

SUMMARY See, there’s no one in this world who ignores his house rules more than you. Even worse, there’s no one on this planet who can make Jungkook ignore his own rules like you do.  WARNING smut, kissing, unprotected sex, missionary, a love for cum/precum, mentions of hickeys, uhhh idk what else lol MISC valentines day, jk cute housewife tbh, jk being in love again u know the usual, jk clean freak  RATING m (18+) WC 1.4k

NOTES its not proofread bc im lazy but i love them... doesn't that amount to something.... YES! we move lads 

Jungkook has been living by himself for about four years now, give or take, and in that time he has come to understand the dire need for order when maintaining a home. He never understood why his mom was such a stickler for rules until he began living on his own. Those first few months had been awful, just the mere memory makes him shiver. His kitchen counters had been littered with an array of stains. His laundry basket seemed to fill up faster than usual. He never envisioned his adult life would start off with him polishing each and every inch of his hardwood floors. But because of that experience, Jungkook has finally followed in his mother’s footsteps and composed his own list of rules, eponymously titled Jeon Jungkook’s 5 Rules for a Happy Home.

He liked order and peace, liked when his coats were lined up from lightest to heaviest, when his glass plates were all stacked according to size and collection. He’s generally a neat person, prides himself in maintaining a clean personal environment. But of course, because the universe just loves him so, they repay him for all his efforts by giving him an absolute wildcard of a girlfriend. 

See, there’s no one in this world who ignores his house rules more than you. Even worse, there’s no one on this planet who can make Jungkook ignore his own rules like you do. 

The list goes like this:

1. Shoes must always come off at the door; this keeps them clean and allows the hardwood floors to retain their glossy sheen for as long as possible.

The plan is to spend Valentine’s Day at his house, watch some Netflix, maybe chill. You had been giggly the whole drive back from the store, brandishing your repaired phone screen like it was something incredible. And because Jungkook had so graciously paid for it, he is reimbursed with a flurry of kisses that have the two of you stumbling into his house. “Baby,” he pants, hand at your waist. He hears rather than sees the loud thump of your sneakers against his hardwood floor. But Jungkook has long since mastered the careful art of distracting you, and it only takes one twirl and careful push until you’re pressed against the door, his hardwood flooring saved from your outside shoes. 

Of course, you misread the action. “Are you gonna be mean to me again?” you purr, throwing your hands over his shoulders. Your breathing is a little shallow now, lips kissing against his jawline as he helps you out of your shoes. You surge forward once more, press those satin lips against his. But this time, it’s your sock-clad feet that step onto his flooring, a soft whimper falling through your lips. 

2. Return everything to where it belongs; coats should go in the closet, keys on the key rack, etc, etc. 

“Take it off,” you husk out, pushing his jacket off his shoulders, and then rather mindlessly tossing it against the base of the stairs, where it was certain to be a safety hazard. Jungkook doesn’t even have time to protest, because then your coat follows. And then your top. And then your bra. 

He’s a weak man. 

He kisses down your throat, makes sure to glide his tongue over the bruises from last night. Not because he wants to see them heal, but because they ignite this sort of possessiveness in him that has him pushing you against the wall once more, guiding your leg over his hip. “So pretty for me,” he mumbles, letting you manhandle him out of his own shirt. And when your pebbled nipples press against his chest, the blood rushes down to his nether regions. You whimper, an airy little sound that sends him to the brink of insanity.

3. Always hold the stair railing; the steps can be slippery sometimes, so it is best to be safe. 

Just as predicted, his discarded coat ends up being the safety hazard it was destined to be. One blind step backwards sends him tumbling onto his behind, the edge of another step digging painfully into his back. “Fuck,” he groans, but not at his blossoming bruise. You shimmy out of your bottoms, present him with this stringy little thong he doesn’t think he’s seen before. “C’mere, baby.”

You’re his good girl, always, so you climb onto his lap with ease, slot yourself over him where you belong. “Right here?” you ask in the soft voice, look at him with this sinful gaze that sends shivers over every inch of his body. 

“Right there,” he confirms, wrapping an arm around you, uses it to pull you flush to his chest. The other slides over the curve of your ass, along the length of your thigh. His gentle touch makes you arch against him, a soft sigh escaping through your lips. “Gonna be good for me?” Jungkook murmurs, pressing a kiss to the tops of your breasts. You nod, and he slips his hand just behind your knee, uses it as he hauls you into his arms. He can’t even see his own two feet as he stumbles up the stairs with you in his arms. 

4. Don’t slam doors or unnecessarily swing them open; you can damage the walls or the door itself. 

It’s a joint effort; you twist the doorknob and Jungkook kicks it open. It slams against the wall, but Jungkook doesn’t really care, not when you look like that sprawled over his sheets. He can’t get his pants off fast enough, eyes trained on you as you slip out of your thong. You’re already so wet, gliding your fingers through your arousal as he stumbles out of his jeans and boxers. Always a tease. 

“Open,” you murmur. It’s what he should be saying to you, hand lingering on your knee, but he does it anyway. Jungkook parts his lips and savors the sweet taste of your arousal on your fingers, sucks and licks until you’re pulling away with a whine, spreading your legs for him to slot himself in between. He has half the thought to reach for the lube in his nightstand, the warming one that you love so much. But Jungkook is desperate and impatient: he spits in his hand and calls it a day, grips his cock in one hand and gives it a harsh tug. Unexpectedly, it’s an action that impresses his audience. “Me too,” you beg, tugging at his forearm. 

And Jungkook complies. He revs up his throat and leans over you, spits in your mouth like you wanted him to. But he’s off today, not completely sane, and half of it splatters against the corner of your mouth, over your cheek. You flinch, eyes squeezing shut. A moan slips past your lips.  And then Jungkook watches in awe as your tongue peeks out, licks at the corner of your lips like you’re trying to save it from going to waste. “Oh, baby,” he groans, and it’s with that final thought that he guides himself in. 

You’re so warm, tighter than usual. He hopes it doesn’t hurt. By the sound of your cries, it doesn’t seem to. Still, despite his concern, Jungkook can’t bring himself to hold back and begins thrusting after only a couple seconds. You claw at his shoulders, probably leave bright red marks all over him. You’re exceptionally needy today, cross your ankles at the base of his neck and make it impossible for him to get too far. 

Jungkook isn’t any better. He can’t let go of you even if he tried. If he’s not holding your waist, then it’s your breasts. If not there, then it’s your throat. There’s something so sexy about you today, so needy for him. He just fucked you last night, made you cum until you cried, and yet you always want more. More and more, just like him. 

Neither of you last that long. Normally, he’d be embarrassed about that. But today, one press of his thumb against your clit has you spasming around him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your cum coats his cock. So he’s not embarrassed, mostly proud. It’s a new record. 

5. Always say I love you. 

“I love you,” he gasps, holding your leg against his chest as he follows in your stead, vision fuzzy as his orgasm overcomes him. A hand touches his abdomen, gentle and encouraging. “I love you, I love you— I wanna marry you,” he shudders, before the pleasure eventually subsides and he’s slumping over your equally tired, equally sweaty form. 

That he’s embarrassed about, hiding his face in your neck as you card your fingers through his hair. “Me too, sweet boy,” you hum, pressing your lips against his forehead. 

Jungkook isn’t sure which of those two confessions you’re addressing.

(He hopes it’s both.)

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[lilietsblog]

In honor of just how epically my Russian name post blew up, here’s how you can make up your own Russian names

To be clear, most actually used Russian names are borrowed from Greek or Hebrew and Russianified, so the names you make up by THIS method won’t be common or occasionally even pre-existent. This is for when you want to make up a fantasy not-Russia that’s still clearly Russian in language but doesn’t have the same greek-borrowing history. It’ll sound antiquated, alt-history, slightly weird and definitely Russian as all heck.

Set of first halves:

- Vladi (means “power/ownership”)

- Yaro (means “passionately”)

- Veli (means “great”)

- Sviato (Svyato) (means “saint/sacred”)

- Miro (means “peace/world”)

- Meche (means “sword”)

- Tverdo (means “hard” as in “not soft”)

- Gordi (means “pride”)

- Bole (means “pain”. no i dont know why this one gets used either)

- Gore (means “grief/bitter”, see above)

- Slavo (means “glory”)

- Sveto (means “light”)

- Milo (means “dear” or “lovely”)

- Yasno (means “clear”)

- Vero (means “faith”)

- Liubo (Lyubo) (means “love”)

- Kraso (means “beauty”)

- Rado (means “joy”)

- Vole (means “will”)

- Zare (means “dawn” though the wordroot can also refer to dusk when specified. it specifically means the thing when its brighter in the sky than not in the sky. What you see when there’s a city or a bright fire in the distance is called a word produced from the same root)

- Vedi (means “knowledge”; note: I just made this one up, I have never seen an actual name with this. However it fits the scheme and will sound reasonable to a native speaker, and the goal is still to produce NOT common names)

- Zvezdo (means “star” and I made this one up too)

- Ogne (means “flame” and I might have seen this one or I might have made it up idk at this point)

- Snego (means “snow” and i 100% made this one up and its not a thing. Sounds nice though)

- Deye (means “action” and I’m only half certain this one’s a thing. It’ll definitely sound nice though, again)

- Medo (means “honey” and we’re completely off the rails here folks)

- Isto (means “sincerity” and im ALMOST sure this one is a thing. Almost)

- Pravdo (means “truth” and this one is 100% not a thing but it can be if you want to)

EDIT: CONTRIBUTION FROM @reaty  CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT FUCKING STANISLAV

- Dobro (means "good" or "kind")

- Rati (means "army")

- Brati (means "brother")

- Vse (means "all")

- Zlato (means "gold")

- Liuto (Lyuto) (means "fierce")

- Stani (means "war camp")

EDIT: more contribution from @archtroop

- Diko (means “wild”)

- Bogo / Bog (means “god”) (usually would be “Bogo” but “Bogdan” and “Bogdana” are pre-existent)

- Vieche (means “age”, “era” or “century”)

Set of second halves:

- mir or mira (male/female respectively)

- slav or slava (same)

- bor (just male) (means "struggle" or “deep dark forest”)

- dar (just male) (means “gift”)

- mil or mila (again same) (see above for meaning)

- lad or lada (same and means “harmony”)

- liuba (lyuba) (just female; adding this in the male form just makes a regular word that means ‘[thing]-lover’, like “slavolyub” -> guy who likes glory)

- rad or rada (see above)

- slov (means “word”)

- ust (means “mouth”)

EDIT: CONTRIBUTION FROM @reaty THANKS DUDE (gender neutral)

- polk (means "regiment")

- gor (means "mountain")

- vid (means "one who sees")

- voy (means "warrior").

EDIT: more contribution from @archtroop

- mor (means “death”, “plague”)

- dan or dana (means “given”)

Pronunciation guide: all “a” like “u” in “duck”, all “e” like in “best”, all “i” like in “ship” or “sheep” (same sound in Russian). Gore - go-reh, Bole - bo-leh, etc. “ia”/”ya” when its after a vowel or at the start of the word is as in “Bianca” and if its after a consonant is like “nya” but will probably sound like just “a” to yall native English speakers. “iu/yu” after a consonant sounds exactly like the german ü.

Obviously don’t go Moon Moon, Slavoslav and Miromir aren’t valid names. Generally these’ll sound nicer if you avoid repeating consonants. Deyemil > Deyedar, etc. With that in mind, go nuts!

Names in this category that are actually common:

Vladimir, short Vova for some fucking reason, no i dont know either

Vladislav, short Vladik or Slava/Slavik

Vladislava, short Vlada

Sviatoslav, short Slava/Slavik

Viacheslav, short Slava/Slavik, which isn’t one of the roots above... I have never seen “Viache” with any other root and I don’t have any idea what it means. EDIT: apparently it’s from Vieche!

Yaroslav, short Yarik or Slava/Slavik

Stanislav, short Slava/Slavik

Vseslav, short Slava/Slavik

(Fun fact, I have an uncle Slava... and I don’t actually know what his full name is)

(Google up the name after you’ve made it up to find out how pre-existent it is. It’ll sound Russian though)

The accent/stress (v important in Russian) will usually go on the first syllable of the second half (GoresLAv, LiubomEEra), with the exception being personally Vladimir, where it’s VladEEmir. (You can also make a ‘secondary’ accent on the first syllable in sufficiently long words, so “lIUbomEEra” etc)

Notice there’s a cadence to this. By the end of that first list I was just making these up out of Russian word roots that fit the rhythm and the vague theming. Don’t Try This At Home though without an actual Russian speaker to consult: note how the vowels at the end of those are different, and I’ll be honest: I have no idea why those specifically, other than This Sounds Right.

There’s... probably more legit ones that I just haven’t remembered. I just spent an hour at work on this instead of working though so you know having to cut the exercise short and all.

EDIT: A P.S. FROM @reaty WHO CONTINUES TO BE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT PROBABLY

Also I think that it's important for these halves to have at least some sense together. For example, Medo- part, I belive, would be plausible in something like "Medoust" or "Medoslov" — a way to depict a person who is good with words — but "Medopolk" would have absolutely zero sense (at least if he is not an actual bee).

[fandomficsnstuff]

In Just A Second - 11

Legolas x Witch!Reader

(Warnings: some fighting and blood, but a very small amount. Also I know this is short but there’s gonna be some smut in the next part as an apology:3)

Elvish:

“Nin mel, nin cuil, nin tinu, nin meld, if er aur im am an lelya-, tovon in i talv, im will mel cin, onlui cin” - My love, my life, my star, my dear, if one day I am long gone, deep in the ground, I will love you, only you.

“Nin mel” - My Love

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You watched in horror at the smoke that rose from the city, the ships making their way too slowly up the Anduin River, your blades in your hands as you stood ready. You sat besides Legolas as you all hid behind a railing on the deck, your eyes turning to meet his and you leaned closer to him “after this, will you marry me?” you whispered as the ships made it to the shore, seeing his eyes light up as he quietly chuckle, a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle “only if you slay more orcs than me” he jested, and you nearly laughed loudly “be careful, I might win” you challenged, seeing Legolas smirk “maybe I want you to” he mumbled, leaning closer to your lips, about to lean in and kiss you when a voice disturbed the two of you.

“Late, as usual! Pirate scum! There's work that needs doing!” You heard an orc yell, the sound of the voice made you cringe, and it didn’t help when you heard it again, “Come on, ya sea rats! Get out off your ships!” he yelled again and you glanced at Aragorn who gave a quick nod, and you all leaped out of the ship and onto land, standing for a second before slowly making your way towards the group of orcs, hearing them slowly laugh, amused at the sight of just the three of you. “There are plenty for both of us! May the best dwarf win!” you heard Gimli say and you glanced at him with a smirk “I think you mean ‘may the best witch win’?” you asked, receiving a quick glance and laugh from Gimli, the four of you making your way to the orcs, picking up the pace as the army of the dead appeared behind you, the orcs realizing just how dead they all were and began to run, their tails behind their legs as the cowards they truly were.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You cut down one orc, keeping a mental note of how many you had slain, so far you were up to forty, the orc you just cut down making it forty-one. You turned at the mention of Legolas' name, your eyes following theirs and widening at the sight before you, a Mûmakil, with a small army on top, and before you could say or do anything Legolas moved towards it, managing to grab onto arrows that had previously been fired at it’s legs, climbing his way up to the top of the beast, shooting people as he went while you stayed on the ground, slaying orcs. Your eyes widening as a man had snuck up behind him and in the blink of an eye you grabbed the sword belonging to a fallen orc, mumbling something under your breath and throwing it, your eyes lighting up and the sword hit it’s mark, Legolas turning his head to see you blowing a kiss at him, and he afforded you a quick smirk before continuing, that was forty-five.

You watched him cut the rope of the platform that went around the Mûmakil, watching as it slided off and you followed the army of the dead as they surrounded the fallen platform, killing any survivors, but you, on the other hand, continued along the Mûmakil to the best of your ability, just in case he needed you. You cut down another orc, mentally counting it to forty-six, as you continued onward, watching as Legolas moved to the head of the Mûmakil, shooting not one, not two, not three, but four arrows at the same time, the arrows piercing it’s skull and you watched as it fell, Legolas disappearing from your view. Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two, and finally you reached around the dead Mûmakil in time to see Legolas softly land on the ground with a smirk, staring at Gimli whose face was completely red in frustration “that still only counts as one!” He angrily said and you ran over to Legolas, cupping his face as you giggled, leaning in and kissing him softly, which he happily returned, and when you parted you smirked at him “he’s right, still only counts as one” you whispered and Legolas scoffed amused, eyes glancing to the ground before looking back to you with the same smug smirk “how many?” he asked and you shrugged playfully “fifty-two” you said casually, watching his stunned expression as you moved away from him and cut down another orc, turning to him with a few drops of orc blood covering your cheeks, and you had never looked more beautiful to him… well, except for that night at the camp, to him, you were a goddess.

“Fifty-three. Be careful, my love, I’m winning” you taunted as you moved on to the next orcs, Legolas couldn’t help the adoring smile he wore as he watched you, before joining the battle once again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You stood besides Legolas, your eyes, which had stopped glowing, fixated on the King of the Dead, who stood before Aragorn, “Release us…” his voice was haunting, but you guessed yours would be as well if you were long dead and but a ghost, cursed to walk the earth eternally.

“Bad idea. Very handy in a tight spot, these lads, despite the fact they're dead.” Gimli said with slight apprehension, and you frowned down at him “they have been bound long enough, Gimli…” you whispered, seeing a disappointed look on his face as he looked away, “You gave us your word!” the King said in an angry voice, as if he was scared that Aragorn would take Gimli’s words into consideration, but clearly, they did not know Aragorn. “I hold your oath fulfilled. Go, be at peace” Aragorn said, and you smirked proudly at him as the King of the Dead seemed relieved, a smile on his lips as he and his army disappeared in the wind, finally free and at peace. You bowed your head down and knelt before Aragorn, who had turned and saw Gandalf bowing his head as well, to the new king of Gondor, the real king.

On your way back to the city of Gondor you were walking with Aragorn, who stopped, head turning and once you followed his gaze, your eyes widened. Èowyn. Your feet carried you towards her and Éomer, your knees hitting the grass besides her as you looked her over, ignoring the cries of Éomer who held her, you put a hand on her forehead, over her eyes, and closed your own eyes, a glowing light shining from the under your eyelids, and when you opened your eyes again, Éomer, for the first time, saw a glimpse of the power you possessed, your eyes slowly turning back to their beautiful (Y/E/C) colour, finding his own eyes as you gave him a small smile “she’s alive… hurt and wounded, hanging on by a thread, but alive” you assured him and he sighed in relief, his eyes glancing back at you, about to say something, and you swore you saw his eyes flicker to your lips, just for a second, but as Legolas approached he frowned in slight confusion, watching you get up and Legolas gently grab your hand, his other hand cupping your cheek with a love and adoration in your eyes that Éomer wished you looked at him with.

You gave Éomer a small smile before continuing onward to the city with Legolas, who still held your hand. You were halfway there when he stopped you, and you turned to him, silently asking why you were stopping, but when you saw his gaze you already knew. “Did you mean it? The promise you made?...” he carefully asked, and you smiled brightly at him, removing your hand from his, seeing a split second of grief, until both of your hands cupped his face, your eyes staring into his with certainty “Legolas, my love, nothing could ever stop me from meaning those words. It is beyond doubt that I love you, and now, I truly believe that Elves and Dwarves are not the only ones who only love once, who will only love one person for the rest of their life.” You whispered and you saw… tears? In those beautiful, icy blue irises, you saw an ocean of tears and joy at your words, “Nin mel, nin cuil, nin tinu, nin meld, if er aur im am an lelya-, tovon in i talv, im will mel cin, onlui cin” at his words, you couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes, running down your cheeks, and you felt his fingers gently wipe one of them away, the gesture taking roots deep in your heart and you looked up at him with pure adoration and love, something you saw in his own eyes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As you reached the top of the city of Gondor, much to your exhaustion, which surprised you, you saw the white tree, a tree you had wanted to see for as long as you could remember, and when you approached, you saw a small flower bloom on one of it’s branches, your eyes finding the figure of Aragorn who walked over. You looked back at the flower with pride, studying everything about it “the king of Gondor has returned, My Lord” you glanced at him, seeing him roll his eyes ever so slightly at the nickname ‘My Lord’, knowing full well that he already hated it, not that it would stop you. So you faked surprise “My Lord! A king does not roll his eyes at his subjects!” you said in a fake surprised voice, seeing Aragorn lightly glare at you, but you knew it was just playful, so you quickly moved to Legolas “save me, my love” you giggled as Aragorn continued to glare at you, but eventually his eyes moved back to the tree, and Legolas stood as confused as ever, you behind him as though Aragorn would chase you “why, Nin mel?” and you giggled, dropping the act, standing up straight and shrugging in a playful manner “Aragorn wasn’t too fond of me calling him ‘My Lord’, not even an army of orcs would scare me as his glare did” you jested, seeing Legolas gently shake his head in amusement as Gimlli laughed at your comment. One of Legolas’ hands found your lower back and he led you inside the castle itself, Gimli mumbling about finding something to eat as he followed you two, giving Aragorn space to study the tree that proved to him that he was indeed the real king of Gondor, that there was no mistake, that he was the right one, despite his earlier doubts.

Before you entered the hall you turned and saw Gandalf approach Aragorn by the tree, and you stared proudly at the dark haired ranger, proud to not only have the pleasure of knowing him, but to call him family as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

@entishramblings

@depressedchilipepper

@graniairish

[simple-ponderings]

The Universe Wants You To Know...

If this pick a card finds its way to you now, then The Universe has a message for you. It may or may not resonate as its a general reading, and that's ok. Take what does resonate and leave the rest as some messages may be for others. The piles are listed 1, 2, 3 from left to right. Close your eyes, feel your spirit and soul. Ask the Universe or God, whoever you believe into guide you to the pile meant for you. When you feel ready open your eyes and choose which feels the most right. I really do hope it helps you all in some way at least. I love you all and take care~

Pile 1-  Two of Pentacles, Justice, Two of Cups, Eight of Swords RX, EISTIBUS Angel of Divination. As I was shuffling for you I saw a long gray corridor. A window. A door. A stair case railing. Maybe Home.

222 is significant. There is an air of balancing, a realization of something. There is an internal change occurring within you. Its like you finally realize you can go outside for there is more potential and possibility there after being stuck in the house for so long. Something was keeping you trapped inside. It could be influences from around you or your own mind- a mental prison or blockage if you will. Its like you're finally realizing the power is in your hands. You're deciding to listen to your voice instead of others around you. What do you believe? What do you know to be true? I feel you are seeing the ever changing rhythms of the material physical world- the 3D to be precise, and the ebb and flow of things considered to be more esoteric, occult, spiritual, abstract. You see a truth meant for you alone. I feel you are leaving whats comfortable for you, you are leaving the things you feel familiar with. You are becoming more aware of what is truly outside. Its like you're a young lad/lass leaving home for the very first time. Im surprised The Fool hadnt popped out. With this, however, it is important to remain grounded. There needs to be a healthy balance between your spirituality and practical ways of being in this world. You are being guided, you arent alone. I keep getting this feeling of responsibility and going with the flow. Dont try to control things or outcomes, I think they may backfire for you. Whatever happens, happens- however if you feel called to do something do it. But remain flexible, you must be fluid like the water. 88 and 222 is significant for you. Remember balance, ebb and flow, giving and receiving, action and reaction, cause and effect. Be mindful of these things for they are important lessons for you to consider. I hope this provided some clarity for where ever you are on your journey. I Love You and take care of yourself. 

Pile 2- Six of Pentacles, Eight of Cups, King of Swords, ISRAFEL Angel of Song, BINAH Left Eye Knowledge.

 When I was shuffling for this pile, I felt determination and self-assuredness about ones self. I also saw a yellow butterfly which may be significant for you. I think you may be going through a transformation that leads you to understand yourself fully. Inside and out. You know who you are and what you're meant to do. If you dont feel this way, you will be soon. The King of Swords really pulls at me. You just Know. You are discerning and wise about the decisions you make. You take logical steps to where you want to be in life. I think you may be receiving downloads about your true essence and you're leaving behind the things that no longer align with your soul. I keep getting the feeling that this will happen to you in the near future, if it hasn't happened already. The time is coming for you to awaken and set off on your journey to do what you're meant to do here. Whatever it may be in your life. You will Know, because something you have been doing or keeping at, will suddenly not feel right or as fulfilling anymore. Im getting the notion that you’ve been working hard at something, but its not cutting out. You arent receiving what you should be receiving because, this isnt meant for you anymore. You're meant to be somewhere else and there’s a deep Knowing inside of you. Angel number 5 may be significant for you. Take your time in doing things. There is no rush. Dont feel pressured. Things will unfold as they’re meant too, for you are always safe and loved in the palm of the Creator. We Love You.

Pile 3- Nine of Cups, Knight of Cups, Six of Swords RX, Two of Swords, DUMAH Angel of Dreams, ZACHRIEL Angel of Memory, CHOKMAH Right Eye- Wisdom.

As I shuffled for this pile I saw babbling brooks, and streams of water flowing under a locked gate. There were autumn leaves falling from trees where a small stream flowed over rocks. “Not wanting to see something. Closed off emotions. Guarded. I dont wanna experience this. Not right now. Im hurt and I dont want to deal with the pain right now.” I feel as though you are trying to prevent something from bubbling up to the surface. Like there is a memory you dont want to think about or relive. You are trying hard not to face it. And yet in doing so, you remain trapped there with it. You carry that wound around you wherever you go. And it may be bleeding out into your reality. You refuse to see it so, it remains there hidden under the waters until it resurfaces again. Maybe you're trying to find other things that make you happy and it really does work, until you find the wound there materializing in your dreams. Maybe there is truth you are seeing, but dont ultimately want to be true. This is a pile that needs to take time to heal. There is hurt that you need to acknowledge before you can continue on your journey. Im sorry for whatever happened. Im sorry that it hurt so bad, but putting it in a box and locking it away forever won’t help you evolve and grow. You are hurting yourself even more. Sooner or later that locked gate will burst open due to the pent up force of the water. Build yourself back up slowly. As you deal with and release this pain, rely on support from family or friends or whoever you trust. This will be a slow process, but there is a great reward for you. Whatever was taken from you will be returned to you tenfold. You will receive something much better than you could have imagined. There is hope and you will not only regain your Flame, it will be much stronger. You will be stronger, but you must travel into your pain and heal from that first. Take as much time as you need and rely on the source of your strength whether it be friends, family, your favorite hobby, leisure activities, whatever allows you to process your emotions in healthy way. Have faith in yourself for We do too. 1010 is significant for you. 

Thank you all for reading! I really do hope it has helped you in some way!  

[thecursedhellblazer]

The Taste of a Promise

(( So, @sirhisslot, I saw this picture that @thedemonconstantine made for you yesterday and, since I was already planning to write a piece with John and our favourite sassy bird, I thought to uh...sort of dedicate it to you? It seemed just fair since it’s all thanks to you if I got to enjoy all the shenanigans you guys have come up with! ^^ ))

(( It’s a bit of a piece of trash and I’m so very sorry for it, but hopefully the thought will make up for its lack of super high quality! Happy delayed birthday from this random twat person! ))

John slowly blew out a mouthful of smoke, watching as it raised up towards the night sky before dispersing in the chilly air. The scratch on his cheek was still stinging like hell, even after it had been cleaned and disinfected, and so did all the other small gashes and light cuts that covered most of the skin of his arms and chest. His shirt, while not exactly torn to shreds, would have probably ended up in the trash the next morning. The time and the effort he would have to put in repairing it wouldn’t have been worth the poor results.

Sticking the cigarette back between his lips, Constantine muttered a heavy curse under his breath. Normally, he would have paid no mind to that kind of wounds, since he was used to dealing with much worse, and by now he should have made peace with the fact that his clothes got ruined more often than not. It was part of the risks of the job, something that couldn’t be helped and that he had to put up with, no matter how aggravating for both him and his wallet it could be.

However, in that particular occasion, the culprit also happened to be the source of his current bad mood and, if there was something John was good at, it was holding grudges, even, and especially if he had to be honest, for the most stupid things. The events that had taken place that night were part of an overused, bad script that, somehow, never seemed to get old and kept repeating itself over and over and over, much to the magician’s chagrin. The fact that he was to blame for all that as much as his opponent was, in his eyes, a detail of no import. It didn’t change the fact that he had been forced to flee outside and get some air, instead of being inside with the others, enjoying his drink.

“Bloody fuckin’ bird,” he muttered under his breath, moodily chewing the butt of his cigarette.

His eyes moved up towards the sky. The feathered fucker constantly glared at him, no matter what he did or said, no matter if he had been paying any sort of attention to him or not. He probably thought that John was a bad influence and that he could exert his role as such even just by existing in the same room where Tim was. And deep down, even if he wouldn’t have admitted it out aloud, the magician might have almost agreed with the owl. However, that didn’t give the bastard any right to attack him at the slightest pretext.

Constantine let out a low groan. He wasn’t even sure of how the fight had started this time. Maybe he had said a word too much, maybe he had glared at the bird for a bit too long. Or perhaps it was because he had messed a little with the winged wanker’s food. Chas had advised him against doing it, but of course he hadn’t listened. In his defence, Tim had been around for a few days and John had really tried to behave at first, but it had been impossible for him to keep the act up. The two of them just weren’t capable of getting along. Why exactly, it was a mystery and John’s guess would have been as good as any, if he had cared enough to make one. It seemed to be one of those things that simply were as they were, almost as if they had been meant to be.

Oh, he was bad at handling those. Very, very bad.

The wandering trail of his thoughts was interrupted by the light sound of wings flapping and Constantine turned his head on his side, already scowling before his eyes could properly land on the bird that had come to perch on the railing next to him. There were several feathers missing from his plumage and the magician couldn’t help smirking in smug satisfaction, knowing that he had been the one to do such damage. He might have gained his own wounds during the fight, but the bastard looked just as worse for wear as he did.

“Woh’s up now? ‘Ell, can’t a bloke ‘ave a bloody fag n’ some bloody alone time?” He grumbled under his breath, turning his head away once again. “Didn’t yeh get enough already? Sod off, yeh tosser. ‘M not in th’ mood to go again rite now.”

The sharp look that Yoyo shot him was even harsher than John’s tone had been, but then the owl seemed to choose to ignore him and instead he started to preen, trying to make up for the mess that had been made of his feathers. That moron was a jinxed menace,  a walking magnet for trouble, and he reeked of alcohol, cigarettes, bad habits,  misery and, literally, of Hell itself. He shouldn’t be allowed near anyone, especially not his human companion.

And yet, for some reason that kept evading him, Timothy seemed to have grown quite fond of Fate’s Fool, against what most people would have surely agreed was common sense and good taste.

Seeing his words falling in death ears, John rolled his eyes and went back to his cigarette, barely holding back the impulse of blowing out the next mouthful of smoke directly in the bird’s face. His gaze, however, kept darting towards the owl. He didn’t trust him not to sink his cursed claws or damned beak back in his flesh the moment he had turned away for a moment too long.

The silence stretched for a few minutes, the time that Constantine needed to finish his smoke and lit out the new one, while Yoyo kept  trying to cover the holes in his plumage, taking the time to shoot the man an outraged look every time he lifted his head to move his attention to another spot.

“Yeh know, if me presence offends yeh tha’ much, yeh can’ fuck off,” John eventually commented, after the umpteenth glare. “Christ. Yeh could even jus’… ” He waved a hand, gesturing to his unwanted guest to scoot away. “Lots of space on dis bloody railin’, innit?” 

Once again he was ignored, just as he had expected to be, and he glanced away, muttering one more curse. He didn’t know what was worse, not being able to relax and breath, which was what he had come out to do, or the sparks of irritation that kept being fed by the bird’s snobbish attitude. It was another thing that he would have never admitted out aloud, not even under torture, but the fucker and his insistent scowling managed to make him feel every bit like the piece of trash he had to be in the bird’s eyes.

Something sharp suddenly jabed him in his side and he started. “Oi! Yeh fuckin’ wanker!”

He whipped around to fully face Yoyo. He had meant it when he had stated that he wasn’t in the mood for another round, but, if the bastard wanted to go for it, he would have made him regret it. However, he paused when he found the owl with one wing extended, pointing towards the window of the balcony.

Look, you idiot.

The displeased expression didn’t abandon Constantine’s face, but he reluctantly did what he was being told, his eyes landing on the small scene that was playing inside the apartment. Tim was sitting on the couch, holding a glass that was probably being kept dutifully refilled by Chas. Tha cabbie had to be spinning one of his stories, because he was gesticulating animatedly, perhaps a bit more than it was strictly necessary, most likely in the attempt of keeping the teen as involved as possible in whatever was being told.

Despite himself, John found himself grinning slightly. Poor old Chas. He probably felt like he was failing miserably with Tim barely offering polite nods to show his participation, even if the lad had to be appreciating the snacks that kept being shoved in his way, considering how quickly they disappeared from his plate.

What a domestic scene, carrying the taste of a normalcy and of the tranquility of daily life none of them was truly used to. An old cassette playing in the background, complementing the warm lights that lit up his best friend’s flat, the lingering smell of the homemade dinner they had shared. It tasted like warmth, like safety, like home. A thin and yet sturdy shield against all the possible, ugly realities they had witnessed.

The promise of a better, brighter future.

John turned back towards Yoyo, finding that the owl was staring at him expectantly. And, hell, if he couldn’t feel the weight of those expectations. He groaned and the bird hooted at him, irritated and firmly, preventing the magician from just ignoring him as he had been tempted to do.

So? Did you get it or are you that thick?

Constantine puffed out a bit more of smoke, but then nodded, glancing briefly towards the window one more time. “…Aye, aye, got th’ fuckin’ message,” he grumbled under his breath. “Loud n’ clear, mate.”

Those words, however, didn’t seem to satisfy Yoyo because the owl pecked him once again, a bit harder than he had done to get his attention. The flash of satisfaction that touched his dark eyes when the magician winced was impossible to miss.

And?

“N’ ‘m tryin’, alrite? ‘M fuckin’ tryin’. Fuck, it ain’t easy, yeh know? N’…good t’in’s ain’t exactly me forte,” John was forced to continue, rubbing his forearm. Yet another bruise to add to the list. “But, if there’s somet’in’ I can do to stop all tha’, too keep ‘im ‘ere, wit’ us, away from…wohte’er ugly fate’s waitin’ ‘ed for us…Be bloody sure tha’ I’ll do it. N’ I’ll leave not’in’ untried. No ma’er th’ cost.”

Their gazes met for a moment and, after squinting at the man for a moment, Yoyo this time seemed pacified. His faith in John Constantine wasn’t the strongest and it would have never been, but he could recognise heartfelt sincerity when he saw it. There was no reason to believe that the magician’s attempts would have been enough, because history had often shown how useless will and good intentions could be at the end of the day, but it was a start. And it was something they could agree on. Some common ground, together with their shared despised for that filthy crow.

Fine. Truce. At least for tonight. But be ready to meet my wrath if you even just think about making a false step around Tim.

“Wohte’er,” John replied, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. Then a smirk opened on his lips. “…Fuckin’ stinky duster.”

The peck that reached his hand was strong enough to make him yell, but he found himself laughing mere second after, holding his bleeding fingers, not giving a damn about how Yoyo had puffed out his chest and his feathers, wings opened in a clear threatening pose.

His shout had been loud enough to attract Chas’s and Tim’s attention and the cabbie was already getting up from his seat, most likely to come and retrieve him, and perhaps even to give him another scolding about how he needed to stop poking the bird, but he found that he didn’t care about that either.

He grinned, widely, waving his injured hand, and damn. Behind the facade of offended anger and ruffled feather, he could have sworn that Yoyo was smirking right back at him.

[warningimmental]

You made your choice. It's not to be a mother so....... Congratulations you're free!!!. Your Wish came true.

Yes this is public so people can see.#TRUTH

***See below as im not repeating again and again.***

My side of life.

P.s

Yeah I'll be fine. I always am in the end.

( Heres what needs to be said and has been said so not to repeat myself. From in PMs )

Sad thing is she knows ill forgive her just like I forgave dad and EVERYONE and EVERYTHING else. I care so no one else has to. I'm the one who picked up the pieces of everything but was tormented daily. She wonders why I was the way I was it was due to parenting and fobbing me off to anyone who would take me.

Anne and Bob should of kept me. They couldn't have kids they could of had me though. (neighbours I adopted as grandparents no blood but love ) My father was a shit most of my life my mother was everyones mother bar mine. They kept me quite with gadgets and as long as I went to school fed and watered job done.

Favourite quote was "it's your fault" and dads was "your making me ill"

Christ for someone who knows everyone elses business she never saw what was happening to her own daughter.

29 years im done. Sick of being a leighton.

I said Stockholm syndrome I loved my captives just happened to be the people I called mum and dad....

I still love them both but what I was "known as normal" was not remotely normal.

Eg. I was appendicitis and born 8 months in mum had no clue and I was "hiding" behind her ribs. It's medically impossible.

Not to mention lived in New York every other year from age of 6 months till I was 13. Dad would take me over and over and over mum came ONCE for my 13th.

I have no memories of New York. It's kind of a huge thing and place to have been wiped out of a memory.

Now im clear-minded im having pseudoseizures because my subconscious doesn't want me to remember what happened.

What mother would let a new born or toddler a child that can't speak fly to the other side of the world to only be with men. My dad and my fucked up uncle who sends stuff to "favourite" niece

I've tried so hard to get better and it's not even my family who acknowledged it.

There's so much you don't know.

She used to have me go in the house before her in case dad had killed himself so id find him first from the ages of 7 onwards. When dad past I went behind the curtain first. So I kept the is see him first. On 29th April 2018

I was always on eggshells she would say people die of lack of breath so EVERY NIGHT id check on mum and dad every hour. She would hold her breath to screw with me. Then say im not dead go to bed.

The house was toxic. For once in my life im actually sane.

She is not who you think she is.

If I've lost my mind it's because my environment sucked. I'm finally out. Sober can think clear and don't harm because I don't have to deal with the toxicity that I dealt with ALL my life.

If I told you everything you wouldn't believe me. Which is fine know one does because but it's true.

Always ask why or what causes someone to go off the rails and self destruct. I never felt safe, I was always told I was a mistake and everything was my fault. As long as I kept the family secrets mum was happy.

Dad was toxic. Mum the same. She wants drama so I finally said enough.

When I say mum knows everything I mean she saw it all and NEVER had it stop or put me safe. I can finally talk now dad is gone. I could write every TRUTH down and write a book. People would wonder how the hell did this girl cope and live to tell. I lived because I care about everything and everyone else. But im done now.

I doubt you'd believe me if im honest. My inbox is full of people defending her and my dad. If only they knew. its been a long time coming but im finally speaking out.

I know people don't understand but I don't want to burden with it. If You like my mum and dad id rather I let you keep the illusion. I know it's out there now that's enough.

If you want to see my life keep reading otherwise STOP HERE.

I'm fine and im safe finally. I just needed more as a child than fear of what should of been my safe place a home.

I don't want us to be strangers to the people who read this and thin sarahs lost it.

I don't want to cause a riff, I just couldn't not say it finally. Mum says always go to counselling but I couldn't. I couldn't tell anyone the truth about dad or mum. Or the truth on why I had to have a very intrusive operation due to assault by 3 at Halloween party. Mum now knows that. Dad was arrested for hitting the wrong lad. Dad and mum would have gone down for murder if I spoke out.

On the other hand there was also my home life in general. I was made to stay quiet about having a revolving door of strangers. Huge boozy parties after a night out. Mum and me being treat like muck on a shoe.

A abusive uncle who would have me and my cusion be "kissing cusions" .Every night when I was 15 to 26 I drank took sleeping pills and hid away in my room self destructive harm anything so not to deal.

I look like wolferrines attacked me because of the arguments or threats. Mum couldnt leave the house quick enough. I gave up on a career to care for my dad but I was always looked down on.

****** golden girl. left was I was guilt tripped saying "your still dads girl you won't leave me" while dad would cry. Every night.

Mum swears I was an appendicitis 8 months in term. I'd be handed to anyone and everyone. Every year or every other from birth id end up in america. Mum would say her holidays where when me and dad would leave. From 6 months old id always go back and forth to New York. I couldnt talk yet "apparently" begged to go with dad.

Mum would say after blazing rows im leaving.

Then just walk out the door. I was left with a highly angry father and confused were mum had gone and if she would come back for me. I'd stay up all night waiting. I'd hide crying and scream in a pillow so not to be to loud so dad didn't shout.

I was told my face doesn't fit. My nick name was ferret face or panda. I would hurt my self so not to hurt others. I wanted and trained to be a counsellor so one to understand what I did wrong and two and most importantly to be there for the people who needed support.

I went to rehab to be identified when found so my parents wouldn't have to. If it wasn't for craig I doubt if be here.

Craig saved my life. Mum has always put others before me or ignored it so it didn't exist.

Important in here (ears) none important (over your head)

I was terrified everyday of my life. I loved and do love my parents it's just I can't stay quite any longer.

Money or game consoles chocolate sweets where hush money. Dad would buy crates of spirits and beer and supple my / his pills so I was always foggy minded.

I'm finally sober clean and harm free my mind is the most composed it ever been.

No one knows what goes on behind closed doors.

Mum is a star and has a heart of gold to others but from age 7 onwards everyone else came first.

I pride my self on protecting, comforting trying to be there and support everyone, hell even risked my life enough times to save some. because I never had it. No one to fight for me protect me.

I wanted parents love encouragement happy I archived or even tried. But it never came.

Even my graduation was ruined.

I wasn't allowed to get a job they made me be sick and have PTSD mum still to this day loves to make me jump. I have terrifying nightmares.

I'd hear conversations no child should hear because they either didn't notice I was there or care. When ***** killed him self when *** did when dad tried and I was left with a random man being told "your dads took to many sweets"

The same man who later tried it on with me sending dirty pictures or dads other "mates" who would try there luck. I gained a shit ton of weight 21 stone so NO guy would come near me because the strangers who would come to the house used to try and feel me up or perv if door was unlocked as I was a kid.

She saw everything but wouldn't believe it. Or me. I phone our ***** one night years ago because she said I could and she yelled at me because she had work. I was silently screaming for help.

It was only at dads funeral she saw and realised and was so genuinely sorry for not believing me the night I phoned.

I wish every single thing I've said and keep telling was a lie but it's not it's 25/26 years of fear.

I'm 29 now. For the first time in my life im not on eggshells. I have a safe home. I can lock the door and not fear.

I wish these were lies I swear!!!!! I do but there not.

Yet NO ONE will even consider it's the TRUTH.

[storiumemporium]

uh.

so.

sorry lads im going off the rails again

[astrallar]

Hello! Lately my pc was off the rails and I finally had a good friend come round to take a look at it (turns out it was dust) but now I can work on that tutorial I promised you guys and other stuff In the mean time, long story short - im giving my spider lad a whole new identity since the orginal person I was using for him is back (its really confusing) but this is Peter ... actually maybe I might change his name again, but a new boy!

[mangled-dreams]

Septic egos go out to dinner, and some guy gets angry because Jameson doesnt talk, and he slaps the mute ego. How does that work out for the guy, seeing as he just slapped the youngest ego in front of all the other egos (and maybe Sean too)

OKAY! So I did a lot of internet looking for the right kind of words to use and how to use them, so please, if you’re Irish or know a lot about how the Irish speak, please call me out and correct me about the phrases and word choices. I tried to have more of a true Irish feel to the story as far as dialog goes there is a bit of British in there too, so if it seems wrong with that let me know. I will update the dialog as needed. But there you are:

Mute

Gettingthe “family” together always proves to be difficult. Withdifferent work schedules, butting heads, and indecisiveness it's astruggle to get everyone to agree on something. Nevertheless Sean andhis egos try to get together at least twice a month for a few scoopsat the pub.

Tonightis one of those nights. Robbie, Jacequet, and Jackieboy are out ofcity—unable to attend in person but send their regards.

“Cheers!”voices raise as pint glasses clank together in joy.

“Solads, how's yer day?” Sean asks downing his pint within a fewminutes. The group falls into conversations and laughter sharingevents that have passed and to come and sharing spirits.

Antiactually joins in on the conversations, smiling and toasting his“brothers” as they talk. It's really the only time anyone see thetrue Anti in public. May are put off by the carefree appearance hegives off.

“Morescoops!” Marvin cheers loudly at a barmaid that passed by. Shegauges the table, nods and walks away. He looks around the table,happy to see his “brother” look so happy and carefree for oncesince their last outing.

Thinghave been busy and overly so. Marvin has been booked out for monthsnow. Shows almost every night for the next three months. Jameson hasbeen the greatest of help with both behind the scenes and on stage.Then Anti and Sean are on tour together, much to Anti's“displeasure”. Everyone knows he'd rather keep his joy at meetinghis fans and being able talk so candidly with people. Chase has beendoing pod casts and going to extreme sporting events as a guest staror as a competitor. Henrik has his clinic with Dr. Iplier in Americaand rarely comes over because of his shifts.

Jacquetis in the middle of getting pieces ready for an art gallery event ina few months, so he's bee cooped up in his studio drawing andpainting and cursing. Robbie generally just wonders around with oneof the egos mainly Jackieboy just in case he gets unruly, but that'srare. He has to have gotten really railed up to cause a disturbance.

“Whereis your tour headin' to now?” Chase asks looking to Anti and Seanrespectively.

Seansmiles. “We're gonna hit the west coast in America. We're going tohang out and have a laugh with Mark and Dark.” Sean answerscheerfully. The other nod, glancing at the dark look on Anti's faceat Dark's mention. It's not that the two hate each other, they justhave “creative” differences.

Turninghis gaze elsewhere Anti people watched as his alter selves continueto talk about the tour and up coming conventions in the UK andAmerica. He's looking for the troublesome character to keep away fromhis younger siblings. He knows each one—with the exception ofJameson, are fully capable of defending themselves, but he'd ratherjust avoid any kind of confrontation.

Takingnotice of a large male with a tight t-shirt on at the billiardtables, Anti makes a mental note to keep and eye on him. The guy isyelling at a poor barmaid about the drink in his hand, but even if hewasn't Anti can see the darkness in the man's soul. It's a talent herarely speaks about but uses on a daily basis to keep his familysafe.

Chasesmiles at Jameson, laughing at the joke the youngest member had justtold. A little on the racy side Chase just knows he learned it fromsome of the other stage hands. “You hear this boyo?” He laughs.

Theothers join in on the merriment. Henrik burps, his hand covering hismouth as he quickly apologizes for the action. The others get a goodchuckle. Out of everyone Henrik is the easiest to get langered.Jackieboy would be a close second followed by Jameson, Chase, andMarvin. Lastly Sean, Anti, and Jacques. Robbie doesn't drink and evenif he does it does nothing for him being dead and all.

Jameson'sshoulders bounce with his silent laughter. He do so enjoy his timewith his older selves. He likes seeing everyone look so happy andlaid back, especially Marvin and Sean. It's been non stop for thepair with small glimmering speckles of days off. Standing up Jamesonexcuses himself to the restroom. Chase offers to walk him over incase someone tries to talk with him but Jameson declines polietly.

Forall their hovering he knows he can go to the bathroom withouttrouble. Not to mention he wants to prove he can do a few things onhis own. Because of his age in comparison with the others, they arevery protective and strict on him. He knows that his older siblingslove him. Pushing in his chair Jameson disappears into the crowd tothe bathroom.

Antikeeps and eye out but resumes engaging the conversation. Minutes tickby and no one worries about the youngest Septiceye (McLoughlin)family. The pub is busy but small and mainly filled with local thatknow the brothers fairly well.

Itisn't until the ten minute mark that Anti notices something abnormal.“Oi, what's goin' on there now?” Anti asks noticing a gatheringof people around the thick chested man from earlier.

“What?Nothing to say, eh? The fuck you thinkin' mate? Fucking apologize yatwat.” Anti hears the now obviously drunk Englishman say to someoneAnti can't see, but he has a bad feeling.

“Lads,I think James is in trouble.” Anti says shooing Sean out of hisway. The others stand up and head over to the crowd.

Upontheir arrival to the gathering the local part ways with looks ofguilt written on their faces. The egos give each other confused looksuntil they make it through. Muscling their way through the last fewpeople much to the people's displeasure they're shocked at the scenebefore them.

“Youtell 'im Rob!” Someone to the Englishman's left says sneering at avery unsure Jameson.

“Well?”Rob snaps not catching on that Jameson is a mute. Jameson tries toshow with his hands that he didn't mean to bump into the brute butit's not enough. “Ya fuckin' quiet tosser, fuck off.” Rob snapsback handing Jameson across the face. The force of the blow sendsJameson clamoring backwards.

Chaseshoots out from the crowd as first to react. No one touches hisbrother. With a wicked right hook Chase sends the man to the groundas the others gather to back him up and to get Jameson off the floor.

“James!Shite, how to do you feel?” Henrik asks his Irish upbringingslipping out over his German accent. He looks Jameson over,instructing him to follow his finger to test his neurologicalresponse.

Jamesontakes a few moments to respond but tells Henrik and the others whathappened. Someone had shoved him in favor of leaving his sick in thebathroom rather than on the floor. When the person shoved Jameson hebumped into the man and quickly tried to apologizes but couldn't saythe words out loud and the man got angry, demanding that he apologizeand buy him another round of pints.

Antistands next to Chase glaring at the man—Rob before reacting toprotect Chase from the friend that egged on the ill set man on thefloor. Switching space with Chase, Anti catches the punch and throwsthe man back watching him knock into the wall.

“JaysusChrist. Who the fuck taught you manners? A heathen?” Sean askshelping support James to his feet.

Robrubs his cheek as he stand to his full height, glaring down at Chasewith murderous intent. Anti steps in front of Chase again. “Touchanother one of me brothers and I'll bust your dial, mate.” Antiwarns glitching ever so slightly to intimidate the man before him. Itworks for the most part, but Anti can tell it's all the attentionthey're getting that's keeping the thick fuck from backing down.

Jamesonlooks at Anti with a little bit of concern. He asks Anti not to killthe man but at this point, if Anti is glitching Jameson knows its notvery promising.

“Whothe fuck you think you are? Eh? Yer fucking brother knocked into me.The little shit couldn't even say sorry for spilling my pint.” Robsnarls back getting closer to Anti.

“Thefuck he did. He told us what happened ya gobshite. 'e's a mute. Can'ttalk.” Marvin challenges earning the giants heated glare.

“What'dyou call me ya chav?” Rob sneers.

“What'dyou call 'im?” Chase asks ready to throw a hook. Rob's shakenfriend stands up and stands at the ready next to him, a littlehesitant about going rounds with Anti.

“Chav,ya gotta problem, mate?”Rob challenges attempting to loom over Chase.

“Anti,don't—“ Sean doesn't get a chance to call Anti off the attack.

TakingRob by surprise Anti catches his with an upper jab with enough forceto knock the man off his feet and halfway across the hall. To keepfrom killing the man with one blow Anti held back. He knows Seanisn't happy with what just happened, but it'd be worse if the guydied too. Rob's friend stares in utter shock at the power Anti'sslimmer frame put out.

“Onyer bike then, if ya know what's good fer ya.” Anti snarls ready totake the man's head off. It only takes a few seconds after Antisnarls for the man to run off leaving Rob laying unconscious hangingoff the billiard table.

Jamesonsits in awe of his older brother. He wants to be that strong. Lookingat Henrik he can see the admiration in his eyes. In fact all theother egos and even Sean look at Anti with a sense of pride. Jamesonis helped to his feet and tells them he's ready to go home. His headhurts but so does his cheek. For as strong as the guy would beagainst a regular person, Jameson was more thrown off his balancethan physically hurt. The fall had been more painful than the actualslap.

Antinods, walking through the crowd that quickly parts out of his waycameras following his movements. He gathers their things tosses a fewnotes on the table to completely cover their tab and then some andwalks over to everyone dispensing the jackets.

“Le'sget ya home, Jay.” Sean says clasping his arm around Jameson'sshoulders in case he needs help walking. Jameson nods and thanks hisbrothers for being there for him.

Antijust nods.

Everyonegathers in the large white van and heads back to the house. Slowlythe merriment returns to the egos as they reach their destination.Between Chase and Sean there is plenty of spirits to drink when theyget home.

PullingAnti aside Jameson asks him to teach him how to fight. Anti chuckles,ruffling Jameson's teal hair. “If ya wanna learn I got ya. Littlesteps ya?” Jameson nods his head thanking Anti for agreeing to helphim before joining the others for a few shots.

[chocolatemillkk]

Meeting the Parents (JP)

Request: Im in desperate need of a josh imagine😍✨ like him meeting your parents for the first time or something❤️🙈

"They will like you!" I try to convince my boyfriend Josh as we sit side by side on the train. It was taking us to Manchester where I would be introducing Josh for the first time to my family.

Josh and I began dating in December but we had kept it pretty secret until after New Year's. It had now been half a year of dating and my parents were getting impatient as to when they would see their new "son-in-law" which freaked Josh out even more.

"They're probably gonna take one look at me and kick me out," Josh groans.

"Don't be silly," I hold his hand. "They've seen your pictures and I've told them lots about you. They'll love you."

"But Y/N what if I say something inappropriate and they hate me?"

I laugh, "Then don't say anything inappropriate!"

Josh leans his head back on the seat and he looks paler than usual. I touch my hand to his cheek and he's cold to the touch.

"Babe," I didn't realise he was that nervous. "Trust me they will love you. My younger brother thinks you're really cool and my parents will love you because they know you make me so happy!"

Josh looks at me but his head is still glued to the seat behind him. "I make you happy?"

"Oh my god," I lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek. "If you didn't I wouldn't be taking you home."

"You're right," Josh's chest rises and falls with his deep breath. "I'm being silly."

I lean my head on his shoulder and he rests his head atop mine.

"Worst case is they hate me but you'll still love me right?" Josh says after a while.

"Josh!" I shove his shoulder. "Of course not! I'll just move back to Manchester if my parents hate you and never talk to you again."

The sarcasm finally gets a laugh out of Josh and he relaxes. But he grabs my hand still, and holds it against him for the rest of the ride there.

•••

"Ready?" I look at Josh as we stand on my childhood front steps. Somewhere on the railing was a chip where I drove my brother's bike into it when I was twelve and fake flowers hid an extra key to the house.

"Yes, just do it." Josh leans over and knocks on the door for me. I grab his other hand behind me and squeeze.

"Y/N! Josh!" My mum opens the door and my eyes land on her warm smile. I didn't visit often enough.

"Mum," I lean in to the hug and inhale her familiar honey-like scent. I step in and watch my mum tip-toe to get Josh in a big hug. I stick my tongue out behind my mum's back and Josh laughs as he bends to match her height.

"It's so good to finally have you over! Aw you're such a handsome lad I can't believe Y/N has been keeping you to herself!" My mum scolds me but I make eye contact with Josh as if to say told-you-so. If anyone was getting in trouble today, it would be me. Josh hands my mom her flowers and she makes a fuss with them.

"Louis! Call your dad come meet Josh!" My mom yells out into the house as she gathers our jackets.

"Hey bro!" My brother pops out from his bedroom, he was a lot younger than me-13 years old and he was at the age where I was considered weird. Although he was nice when he knew he could smuggle some money from me.

"Hey how you doing?!" Josh and my brother do a weird half-hug. My brother had met Josh before when he was staying with me during his spring break. Josh and him had gotten along just perfectly.

"Louis say hi to your sister," my mom says as she heads back to the kitchen. "And ask your dad when he's planning on finding the ingredients I sent him to look for.

"Hey loser," I pull my brother in for a hug and he turns stiff like a board so that I let him go. Josh laughs at this but I give him a dirty look.

"Josh," my dad finally emerges with a packet of sugar and a bag of spinach. "C'mere." He puts everything down and grabs Josh in a hug. "It's nice to finally meet the bloke my daughter is so smitten for."

"Dad," I roll my eyes and steer everyone to sit on the couches.

"It's true though!" My dad tells Josh. "Oh Josh is really handsome, Josh fixed that issue with my phone the other day, oh Josh took me to the cutest coffee shop..." my dad laughs at I burn with embarassment. He loved to tease me.

"It's called being in looove," my brother decides to join in on embarassing me. I look at Josh who's turning red and trying not to laugh but as soon as we make eye contact we burst out laughing.

"I'll show you around later," my dad tells Josh. "I promised Y/N's mum I would help her with dinner."

My dad leaves and I slide closer to Josh which my brother thinks is gross by his gagging noises and he leaves the room. It's just us two again.

"How was it?" I ask.

"Overwhelming," Josh sighs. "But in a good way."

"Just like when I met your family," I still get embarassed by the stuttering and blushing mess I was that day.

"I guess so," Josh laughs and kisses my cheek. I turn instead to kiss him properly and he smiles against my mouth.

"I didn't realise you were such a big Josh Pieters fan," he's still grinning when I break from the kiss.

"Oh shut it," I push him away. "Don't let it get to your head."

"Did you want a photo? An autograph?" Josh, of course, continues to tease me.

"Let me show you my bedroom," I get Josh off the couch and further into my room. It's still got pink walls but most of the furniture has been upgraded and my childhood dollhouse collects dust in the corner. Josh was a giant in my small room and it was weird to have him in this space.

"It's nice to see where you grew up," Josh says to me.

"Wait until I take you to all my childhood spots," I wrap my arms around him. "All the places I snuck out to too."

"Oh I'd like to see where you went during your rebellious days," Josh pulls me in as he examines the photos still scattered throughout my room.

During dinner my parents grill Josh with a ton of questions on where he was from and what it was like and although he's nervous at first he's soon laughing and talking with passion about his hometown. Every so often I check in with him, catching his eye or touching his hand but he seems comfortable. So much so that him and my brother even gang up on me at one point.

"You have a really great family," Josh tells me as we get ready for bed that night.

"And you were freaking out on the ride here," I cut my eyes at him. "Does that seem silly to you."

"Yeah," Josh admits. He draws me into a hug and collapses on the bed with me. "There was nothing to worry about. Although your parents did ask on more than one occasion what I considered the right age to marry."

"They did not," I cover my mouth trying not to giggle. "I'm so sorry."

Josh tells me it's okay and kisses my forehead. "I said I did want to when the timing was right."

"That's a good answer," I say. We talk some more about my family and Josh tells me my mom actually said she would be on the vlog which Josh was going to film tomorrow.

"Wow I feel like my family loves you more than they love me," I joke. Josh chuckles and gives me another sleepy kiss. I play with his hair and watch his eyes slowly droop close before I eventually fall asleep myself. If today was any indication, tomorrow would be an even longer day so I needed all the sleep I could get.

[rask-the-rogue]

Writing idea: Young Rask meets current Rask and they have a chat.

((Ok first of all thank you so much for the prompt.  This is amazing and I don’t know where it came from but I’m really grateful, as this was fun to write and different from my usual fare.  Not sure if this is totally canon or not– but then, I sorta figure that’s the point. I hope you enjoy!))

If I’m going to be honest, chronomancy has never made an ounce of sense to me, and it probably never will.  I avoid it wherever possible, but you know how dragons are.  They get some idea into their skulls and there’s no convincing them otherwise.  Chromie is no different, and any dragon that chooses a gnome as their mortal form is even less to be trusted, and even more stubborn.

There’s certainly a long story to how we ended up smack in the middle of Old Town thirty years in the past, but I couldn’t tell it to you even if I wanted to waste the time, because I have literally no idea.  According to Chromie, it was my fault, but I gently reminded her that she was the time-traveling, ageless mystical creature, not me, and that also this whole rigmarole was her idea, not mine.

Okay, maybe our discussion wasn’t so much ‘gentle’ as loud, and wasn’t so much a ‘discussion’ as it was an argument.  In the middle of my protest, I realized that I could feel eyes on us, and quickly remembered that as fun as time-traveling was, the area around us was still very much real and potentially dangerous.

As if by some instinct, I looked first toward the crates piled in the small inlet of Cut-Throat Alley, and my eyes landed on a pair that were just as brown and just as surprised as my own.  The little face flitted away from the crevice in half a second, but I knew what I’d seen– and almost without conscious permission, I was moving toward the crates, Chromie briefly distracted with her magical hourglass device.

The thing about these crates is that they’re an easily defensible hiding spot, but not very easily escaped from.  I’m still small enough to wedge my torso into the crevice between two of them, and my fingers close around the little wrist before the small dagger clenched in it can slice me, hauling the boy out into the open as he howls in protest.  Something inside me is protesting, too– it all feels too strange, like I’m acting in a play whose lines have been half forgotten.

“Oi– quit yer squrimin’,” I tell the child, who’s no more than ten for certain, skinny as a rail and so dirt-stained his brown skin is a shade darker than my own.  “I ain’t lookin’ ta hurt ya– relax, relax!”  He swings a leg for my crotch, and when I dodge that he sinks his teeth into the bracer of the arm that has a hold of him.  He looks up at me in surprise when I laugh– not a mean laugh, mind, but a genuine laugh of surprise.

We’ve caught Chromie’s attention by now, and by the sound of her voice I’m sure she’s giving me the stink eye.  “Hey!  No interfering with the locals!  Do you want to be stuck in this timeline forever?  I don’t think so!”

“Ah, fuck off,” I mumble.

“Fuck off!” The child in my grasp says, at the same moment.  I laugh again– and he sinks his teeth into the inner part of my elbow, which definitely hurts.

“Look,” I tell him through gritted teeth, modulating my voice so it’s not as sharp as the pain, “You stop bitin’, I’ll give you a gold. How ‘bout that?”“Rask,” Chromie warns from behind me.  Both me and the boy look at her.  She puffs out a sigh, blowing a lock of hair that’d fallen in her face.  “Oh, perfect.  Of course.  Look– you’re messing around with dangerous stuff, you know.”

“He’s a nine year old kid, Chromie,” I retort dryly.

The kid kicks my shin.  “I’m TEN!”

“He’s a ten year old kid,” I amend, with a wince, re-positioning my hold on the runt.  “Jus’ wanna have a brief conversation, how’s that?”

Chromie squints at me.  I squint back.   She snorts, figuring out that I’ve already figured it out, turning back to her device.  “You’ve got two minutes.  No spoilers!”

I turn my attention back to the kid, placing him on the ground and putting a firm hand on his shoulder.  “Relax.  Look,” I reach behind his ear, pulling it back with a gold piece in my fingers. He blinks at me, then snatches it away as quickly as he can.  His dagger’s still out in his hand, but at least he’s not swinging it at my face.  I keep my eye on it all the same.

“Cheap trick,” He drawls, jutting out his chin as he shoves the coin deep into a pocket of his grimy clothes.

“Aye,” I return with a grin, “It is.  Yer name’s Rask, ain’t it?”  His eyes narrow with suspicion; he doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t need to.  “Look, Rask,” I tell myself, “I’m here ta give ya a bit of a break, alright?  Only got a minute, but ‘s a minute where ain’t no one’s gonna hurt ya.”“Ya grabbed me,” He retorts, sidling back a step.  I let him, seating myself against the dilapidated stoop of the shop at the mouth of the alley– the one that only half-heartedly tries to pretend it’s not selling drugs and poison both.

“Sure did.  I knew talkin’ you outta there would’a taken damn near an hour.”  He gives me an odd look– I don’t blame him– but the pocketknife, too, is slid away into his trouser pocket.

“Fine,” he tells me, gesturing to show he’s defenseless, now.  I smile, knowing he’s not, really.  “Is that gnome yer boss?”

I glance at Chromie; she’s dutifully ignoring us.  “Fer now, I s’ppose.” I drop my voice conspiratorially, smirking at the lad.  “She’s bein’ a right pain in my ass, draggin’ me all over tha place, but I gotta say ‘m glad she’s dragged us ‘ere.”

Rask arches his eyebrow at me (I know he’s quite proud of his ability to do that), glancing around the dirty walls and cobbled streets.  “Why th’ feck’re ya glad ta be in this shithole?”

“‘Cause it means I get ta talk ta you, ‘a course.”  I prod him gently in the chest, and don’t reprimand him for his language.

His eyes are still vaguely suspicious, but he can’t hide the swell of curiosity my words invoke.  “Me?  Why?”

“Well– ‘cause yer a real important lad ta me, y’know.  An’ I reckon you’ll be real important ta people when ya get a bit older.”  Chromie makes a frustrated groaning noise; I ignore it.  “So long ‘s you stay fightin’ tha good fight.”

He’s still eying me narrowly, but he’s drifted a step closer.  “Yeah?  Is that what you did?” His gaze drops to eye the leather pauldron on my shoulder, and leather breastplate, a hand reaching out to touch the unobtrusive, but finely done, tooling around the edge.

I don’t make any move to dislodge his touch, of course.  “Sure is.  Not an easy thing ta do, but…” I eye him over again, from his matted hair to his bare, dirty feet, “It’s worth it, in tha end.”

An odd whirring, humming sound starts up from where Chromie’s standing.  “Time’s up!” She chirps, suddenly in a much more chipper mood.  She tends to be like that.  “Come on– I’m going to have to do a little work to smooth out the wrinkles you’ve caused, Raskolnikov.”

Rask looks up at me, confusion on his face at the name.  The last thing I want to do is stand up and leave him there, alone, in the grimy alley; he needs a bath, and a warm meal, and someone to keep him safe and out of danger.  That last one, especially, he needs so badly it makes my teeth hurt.  But I rise all the same, and don’t let any of that show on my face as I give him a cheerful wink.  “It’ll be alright,” I tell myself.  “Stay gold, eh?”  I can’t help flipping him another gold coin, which he catches in numb fingers, staring at me in surprise and confusion.

I drag my gaze to Chromie, who’s watching us with pursed lips.  “…Let ‘im keep tha money, aye?”  I say, quietly, as I draw up next to her.  She sighs, but I know her heart tends to be softer than the other dragons.  She chose a gnome, after all.

“Fine,” She relents, twisting a few dials on her contraption that I don’t pretend to understand.  Gold light surrounds the two of us; I look back to Rask, his little brown form warped and wavering thanks to the golden magic.  “Now let’s get going.  And no more interfering– you keep your tricksy hands off my Chronomancer.”

“No promises,” I retort as the boy’s figure flicks and disappears to the golden whirl, folded under the sands of time and lost to me in everything but memory.

[duneswright-blog]

"Hamon!" Came a yell beyond the gates. Mutual sighs shared around.

"The boy has returned...again, can't you at least give him an audience Hamon?" Chuchuto pleaded from her perch on the railing.

"No. And why should I?" Hamon huffed. "The boy shows less resolve than an unarmed Tonberry."

Shared grumbles about the disturbance showered on Hamon.

"Fine, fine you lot can't do it yourselves, better to have the Master do it anyway" Joints protested upon his rising, striding to the gates he flung them open to... an empty passage?

"Well I suppose he heard the Holyfist 'imself was going to greet 'im this time." Hamon chuckled to himself returning to the guild.

"Hiya!" Came from the rafters above Hamon, as Bace took the opportunity to strike.

"Do you see me now Hamon?" Bace threw at him between blows, defying his looks Hamon deftly dodged each fist as they flew.

"Have you grown a spine little one? Keep practicing and one day I may allow you to shine me boots!"

"No can do old man if I am to ever leave pearl lane." The words stopped Hamon mid block causing a clip to his hip sending him to his rear. Bace moved in to finish the fight hoping to finally be recognized by his hero.

"Enough!" Chuchuto came to Hamon's aid, palm thrusting Bace into an awaiting gladiator's arms

"Shh boy settle down now no harm will come to you but you must be still." Bace stopped struggling as much, and covered his head.

"Please don't kick me, I'll stop and won't be in anyone's way I..I promise!" Franz's face drained of color as the boy's voice cracked through the statement.

"I will do NO such thing young miqot'e, now nor in the future! So, please stop." As Franz sighed the last statement Bace stopped his residual resistance to look at the Holyfist himself.

"H-Hamon? Will he be ok?"

"Aye. I am just shocked is all," Hamon muttered upon rising with the help of Chuchuto. "you are from pearl lane you said?"

"Um yes sir...I mean not originally but now yes."

"Where is your parents?" Inquired Hamon while dusting himself off.

"I..i mean they left me here, my mom is feral." Whispers from the guild began to build but a sharp look from Chuchuto silenced all.

"Franz please bring him in, Chuchuto please fetch the night milk there is much to discuss."

"Duneswright." Bace muttered "I like it Chuchuto thank you."

"Of course, they say it was the Lalafell that united the clans' given name, I find it suits you."

"Would you like a ride back to the guild? Hamon is probably waiting for these skins." Bace said lifting their cargo.

"Please it's is rather hard keeping up with you now-a-days." Chuchuto sighed reaching up to Bace.

"Heh would you say I outgrew your expectations of me?" Bace asked arching his brow.

"Oh goodness I never thought you would be as small as me but at least you aren't as large as average miqot'e." Chuchuto added upon settling on Bace's shoulders. The return to Ul'dah was uneventful allowing distaste for the plain landscape to burrow deeper in the back of Bace's mind.

"Hamon we're home!" Came Chuchuto's small voice

"Good 'urry in 'ere now we 'ave a guest!" Hamon resounded from the back

Bace's tail bristled at the thought of another guest the last one ended quite poorly. Quite the Ofish fellow had attempted to pet Bace without permission and ended with a visit to a healer, though Hamon had howled with laughter Chuchuto was not thrilled with the treatment.

"Ah this is the lad now" Hamon motioned to Bace

"Please allow me but a moment to ease this load." Bowing politely Bace stepped away.

Now muffled voices carried well to the young seeker's ears.

"Well he has grown well that is visible and you assure me of his strength, but how fairs his mind?"

"He is sharper than most, not one for a fight." Hamon laughed "Heh well unless it's me or the wilds that is."  

"Hmm...well I am looking for guard during travel. Are you sure that can be filled?"

"Have no doubt if troubles arise you will wish for no other."

Bace made plenty of noise on the return hoping to end the conversation, to no avail.

"Perfect. Boy I require a demonstration of your skill" The guest motioned to the sparing square. "Please find a suitable opponent."

"Um ok, Hamon are you.." Bace began

"No! It shall not be Hamon, take Chuchuto." Chuchuto rose from her seat by the hearth.

"I...I understand." Bace bowed again, Chuchuto would not be pleased if he upset another guest. Turning to stretch and find his focus Bace noted how small she appeared when taking stance. A shout came from behind, She rushed him unprepared catching him in a daze. Barely able to deflect her flurry of blows the world was a muffled dissonance. Scared, Bace threw consecutive punches flawlessly strung together through fear, creating a deadly dance that Chuchuto could not keep up with. Landing multiple blows in quick succession sound returned to deaf ears pleading him to stop. Out of breath he ran to Chuchuto though stopped short by other guild members encompassing her

"Step no further fiend you will harm her no more!" Fear showed in the pugilists eyes causing Bace to step back.

"I...i didn't mean too." Tears began to well in his eyes. "H..hamon please." Not looking at Bace, Hamon picked up Chuchuto carefully.

"She will be fine, please return to the back with Erin while 'er wounds are tended." Hamon strode out of the hall with most in tow.

Tears rolled down his face mixing with his sweat. He had no desire to go anywhere with that man let alone be in the abandoned guild hall with him. He began to run towards the entrance when a cough made him freeze.

"I believe you are to stay here with me boy." Erin said waving towards the back. Not wanting to cause anymore trouble Bace followed solemnly behind, taking the seat Hamon vacated Bace looked down ashamed.

"Stop the sulking, in fact you should be proud you are able to achieve grease lightning." Bace bristled at his words.

"A child sulks. I am concerned for my friend, do not insult me or my intelligence!" Bace spat at him with words dripped of spite.

"Well be that as it may you have demonstrated you are capable of being my escort so we shall be departing tonight." Erin rose dusting himself off. "I recommend you commence packing." Leaving Bace alone to release a breath he didn't know he was holding. He couldn't leave he would miss everyone. His mind flashed the unwelcoming faces of everyone surrounding Chuchuto.

"I will leave and I will come back to them with a head held high." Bace began to pack.

   Night seemed to fall quickly with nothing but small murmurs rising from the guild itself only a handful of pugilists had returned leaving Bace alone curled on his empty cot awaiting Erin's return.

"Come." Was all Erin chose to say to him, upon departure Erin threw a small sack of gil onto Hamon's cot. "That should be enough."  Bace watched as the seam broke feeling as if his heart might do just the same. Leaving the din of the city was bittersweet, it was as if he could breath a little less hindered now.

"Where are we traveling?" Bace wondered aloud adjusting on his chocobo.

"Ah! It finds it's voice again" Erin exclaimed.

"I have a name!" Bace snapped at Erin. “please do well to remember that."  

"Tsk...tsk however are we to get along at this rate." Erin sighed "Well if you must know Bace we are headed to Ala Mhigo'."

"Where the monks are?!"

"One in the same, not everyday you get to see such a sight eh?" Erin smirked knowing the boy was hooked and wouldn't leave now. And he was right every pugilist dreamed of meeting the esteemed chosen monks of Ala Migho. Top in the standing armies across the realm enhanced by their devotion to Rhalgr which also brought them discipline. Which by the 12, was it needed to deal with the mad king of the land.

"Will we be seeing the king?" Erin laughed at him.

"Gods no! I have no plans of dying so soon, and nor should you." Erin left it at that. Traveling through the many parts of Thanalan proved less exciting than Bace first thought, no foul weather or oppositions to be meet. He began to get disheartened they would never arrive when they finally were able to see the spires in the distance. Bace's breath caught in his throat the sight was as nothing he had seen before. Ul'dah has it's beauty in strong stone structures but the towering monoliths were beyond what he'd imagined.

End of chapter one