#also I get the distinct impression that this ask will prompt others to ask what my thoughts on the rest of the cast are

[flamingpudding]

I just got done reading the prompt that I asked you about and it's wonderful thank you so much and if you're okay with it I'm here to help you make a part two but if you don't want to do that that's okay I'm just adding some bonus to it.

I'm just imagining Danny full Ghost King attire showing up with two things to cookies one with kryptonite in them cuz I love the head can of ghosts eating good tonight like candy and the other set a normal batch of chocolate chip cookies. Looking down Young Justice being like in the most Patrick electric entity sounding voice with a country accent "I'm so just the cutest oddiest little berries on the bush" (sorry just speaking in my little country Danny headcannon)

But I can also see Danny being embarrassing for Klarion. Danny sit down the two trains of cookies Evan just start hugging and kissing his son on his head like the embarrassing mom he is talking about how he's so skinny and he should eat more. Also really nice to Young Justice it's like them realizing they just might by the end of the day be adopted by enemies mom.

Justice League is getting to the location ready to fight and do what they can just for a Young Justice member with a cookie in hand to walk up and explain and tell them to play along for free cookies.

RedRobin badly wants to try one of the kryptonite cookies to see what it would do if he ate it. Klarion keeps stopping him because as much as he doesn't like them he doesn't want RedRobin to die.

Who I'm just adding on a couple of things really love your writing though oh yeah what are your pronouns so I can know to refer to you as just asking.

So glad you liked it and no problem i don't mind at all. I was thinking about adding a part two honestly. Well then lets continue the shenanigans. I hope this part two won't disappoint either. And out of courtesy for once added people who asked for tags in the comments. Don't get used to it. I usually don't to tags. This is an exception for this awesome prompt idea.

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The moment a Lazarus green portal started to open in the Living Room, Red Robin suffered a small, probably slightly traumatic, flashbacks to all the times he had seen the Lazarus Pits, but before he could even react Klarion tackled him to the ground with a distinctive hiss of "Play alone." His friends, the traitors, had managed to doge Klarion. Impulse had simple used his speed to step aside and Superboy apparently had headed a warning. Wonder Girl hadn't even been in the path of Klarions tackle. So this was why Red Robin was currently the only one getting sort of wrestled and put into a headlock on the ground in a hold he knew he could easily get out of but was to distracted by the ceiling high, eldritch as well as royal looking being stepped out of it.

The portal closed behind that being and Red Robin swallowed seeing six eyes in inky black that mirrored the night sky blink down at them.

"Klarion?" The static voice ringed in their ears and from the corner of his eyes Red Robin saw Superboy flinch visibly.

"Mom! Your early!" Red Robins head hit the floor as Klarion suddenly let him go to greet the being that's apparently his mother. He glared at the witch boy for that as he sat up and rubbed his had.

"Oh my, sorry my dear." Superboy flinched again, and Red robin could hear Impulse whispering to Wonder Girl if he was the only one seeing four mouths talk at the same time. Klarion appeared to have it heard to as he send them a quick glare over his shoulder before turning back to his mother.

"Mom, could you tune down on the eldritch?" Red Robin blinked stunned before seeing the bing apparently blush green in embarrassment and its form changing until there stood a man, about Red Hoods height still with a floating crown and a royal cape, but at least more human like and resembling Klarion but with more blueish skin before them.

"Sorry baby, I thought my royal appearance would make a better first impression." The man pinched the witch boys cheek lovingly, to witch Klarion whined out a drawn out "Mom."

The four young heroes couldn't help but stare, was that seriously their villain Klarion? The one that tried to cause chaos and make their lives difficult on regular basis?

"Klarion. Why is there a magic barrier around your apartment." The man in royal clothing suddenly asked and they blinked seeing Klarion flinch and laugh nervously. "Oh you know mom, keeping the bonding in one place so other mortals won't be bothered." To which the man cooed. He cooed!

"Bonding? What bonding?" The four heroes echoed blinked and exchanged stunned and confused looks. Bonding? What Bonding? What were they talking about? Sure they hadn't gotten a lot of explanations out of Klarion before that portal opened and apparently his entire act about his mother visiting was the true. It was clear that the witch boy's mother was some kind of other worldly being but it looked like there was more to it. Also considering the royal like outfit and the grown.... did that mean that they had been dealing with a prince of some kind as villain the entire time.

Suddenly the man bristled turning to glare at them back in his eldritch form towering over them. "Are you telling me you mortals have been ignoring my sons bonding?! And that is why my son's bonds don't appear to be properly formed?!"

They flinched back staring at that being that was now back to locking eldritch horror like with a crown and royal cape. Their eyes were locked onto the being, only distantly they realised that Klarion was pulling on his mother hissing something that sounded very much just like static to their ears. It to a while longer but finally the being drew back staring what sounded like a static filled discussion with Klarion and Impulse was pretty sure he had been ready to sully himself if it had taken any longer,

Apparently Klarion and his mother finished their exchanged as they both turned to them, his mom now again more human like looking. "Mom these are my friends. The punk looking guy is Superboy the half alien, Red Robin the one in red and black, you know Dinner boy. Impulse from the Flash-Clan and Wonder Girl one of the Amazonian. Guys this is my mom, Ghost King of the Infinite Realms."

Red Robin couldn't help the eye twitch at his introduction, he also noticed that Impulse flinched back as the mans eyes locked onto him and he didn't need Superboy's confirmation of having heard a grumble about 'why did it have to be a speedster'. Great so this eldritch being, apparently King and most likely a danger and possible hostile did not like one of them already. Why did Klarion ask them to play pretend friends again?

"Well I will be, you have quiet the colourful and oddest batch of fleshy mortals here." The man grinned at them, that were sharp teeth the four heroes observed. "Titles are a bit stuffy, feel free to call me Danny kids. Now come here. I brought some cookies with me."

Before they knew it the four of them were seated on the couch with a huge plate of cookies on the coffee table before them. The four of them blinked at the two kinds of cookies. Impulse was already reaching out to them fearlessly but Wonder Girl had the foresight to stop their friend for the moment. Superboy on the other hand appeared to look quiet queasy and was slowly turning green to the worry of Red robin. They noticed Klarion turning towards his Mom when he took note of this. "Mom! I have a Kryptonian friend! Why did you bring cookies with kryptonite chunks! Look! Superboy is turning green just looking at them."

The Ghost King, now known by the name Danny to them, appeared to be waving his son. "Oh he will be fine in a moment its not enough to completely bother his species, he will just be more human like till you ate all of them. These ones are more for you anyway, you are way to thin lately." Danny then turned to them with a smile. "Please feel free to eat the chuckles chip once. I can guarantee they are human friendly. My sister helped me make them. She is a liminal human."

That was all Impulse needed to rip his wrist free and stuff the first of the chocolate chips cookies into his mouth. "They are good!"

Danny smiled at them satisfied, and with that out of the way started to make small talk with them while also embarrassing his son with occasional comments like. "Oh you should have seen when Klarion first got Teekl." Or "He nearly burned down our entire castle when he started actually learning magic." Or "He used to be such a grumpy adult until he deaged and became such a cute grumpy little baby boy. Want to see photos?"

They never got to see photos to Wonder Girls disappointment. Klarion managed to cut in between suffering embarrassment and glaring at them for encouraging his mother to tell more embarrasing stories and forced the portal, his mother was going to reach into for the photos, to close.

By now the teens have become more relaxed around Danny. The man had a friendly charm to him and genuinely showed an interest in them as well as in the well bing of his son. They could understand why Klarion didn't want to disappoint a parent like that. They snacked on the cookies and Red Robin watched with interest whenever Klarion and Danny reached for one of the cookies with green Kryptonite chunks. Danny had mentioned off handedly in one of his stories of Klarion that they both used to be normal humans. Red Robin was very interested in this right now.

Suddenly Superboy elbowed Impulse and Red Robin, having caught the movement turned to them with an arched eyebrow. "Mentors." The other mouthed to them and they sighed, of course their mentors would show up sooner or later. They shared a glance and Red Robin took on the task to subtitle inform Klarion since they were sitting next to each other when Impulse excused himself to a toilet break shortly.

Red Robin used that quick distraction to reach towards the cookie plate.

Meanwhile Impulse came to a stop in front of the front door stopped by his foot from slamming shut behind him again, thankfully Klarion had removed his magic barrier that could have made this difficult. He had one cookie in hand and grinned up at their mentors and the Justice League Dark members.

"Hi everyone!" He greeted them cheerfully, taking a bite of his cookie.

"Impulse? Are you okay? What happened?!" Flash was instantly on the teen checking him over for any sort of injury. They were prepared to fight since Deadman had reported the location where the Ghost King had appeared. They had chosen to halt their search for the missing teens for the moment but had paled when Superman had mentioned he was hearing their voices from the same location.

"Oh i am fine! Great even. Did you know that there are other dimensions that have melon flavoured chips?" Impulse easily answered grinning. "Also you might wanna dile back on the battle ready aura you guys radiate. Klarions mom is visiting, pretty awesome guy."

"Klarion? The witch boy?" Wonder Woman asked stunned to which Impulse nodded. "Yea, pretty nice guy. Ghost King of a dimension that holds everything together like glue. Kinda badass."

"Bloody fucking..." Batman glared at Constantine who swallowed the rest of his curse. "The hell you mean the Ghost King is badass? That a fucking tyrannical blood hungry war maniac!"

Impulse blinked at them. "Really? I mean he does have scary form that made me nearly piss myself but he is pretty chill. Awesome parent, we get why Klarion loves his mom so much now."

The blond Brite pinched the bridge of his nose letting out a suffering sigh. "Just let us in mate, we will deal with this before our dimension can kiss its arse goodbye."

Impulse appeared to be thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "Uh nope. We are having a good time actually. A nice break. Sooooo no!" Before Flash or anyone else could react impulse stepped back closing the door into their faces. They blinked stunned, Batman was the first to recover stepped towards the door to attempt to open it only for his lockpick to be deflected by a red barrier suddenly appearing. The man growled turning to glare at the Justice League Dark members with a silent comment.

Inside the apartment a little bit earlier....

Klarion snatched another green glowing cookie from Red Robins hands with a glare at the other teen, who only glared back. Danny was watching them amused feeling reminded of himself and Tucker by their interaction. But then his attention turned to Wonder Girl as she asked for another story about Klarions childhood.

A moment later Klarion felt a nudge and looked at Superboy who nudged him across a pouting Red Robin who got another green glowing cookie snatched from him. The witch boy arched an eyebrow when Superboy asked to recreated the barrier to keep their mentors out but did so the moment Impulse was back with them with already three new chocolate cookies in hand as he joined Wonder Girl in fishing for more stories.

[c0nn0rsseur]

Can we take a moment to appreciate Bryan Dechart’s performance as Cyberlife Tower Connor aka Sixty and Sixty as a character? 🤌

Though Sixty and deviant Connor are physically identical (minus their demeanors, e.g. the way they stand and walk, like wow, Bryan, wow) and their voices technically aren’t different from each other, the distinction is still clearly there, at the same time it’s so nuanced too. Sixty sounds condescending, imperious and callous compared to deviant Connor whose voice is empathetic, curious and sincere. I’m not even talking about their lexicon, their choice of words here (there’s of course a difference too). Even when Sixty tries to convince Hank he’s the real Connor, you can hear how he’s failing to sound exactly like his counterpart because he can’t replicate deviant Connor’s voice and speech pattern just so. Sixty’s also being very commanding when trying to fool Hank into shooting the real Connor (Hank even gets irritated because of it). Damn that’s brilliant acting, all hats off to Bryan. His performance in this game never fails to impress me. (I wish there were dialogue for RK900 too, I would’ve loved to see Bryan’s take on his voice and presence.)

Also also I have to mention I love the take that Sixty really was a deviant all along too, an ”evil” version of Connor if you will; cold, calculating and even enjoying the situation he had Connor (and Hank) in. You know, doing all of it because he wanted to, because he liked it. Why else would he deliver a whole ass villain monologue before executing deviant Connor, gloating about how he knows what he is and that he is the obedient, favorite child, plus calling Connor a disappointment (and a disappointment to him especially, like how Connor should care in his final moments that Sixty despises him for not being a good little robot)? AND shooting him several times non-lethally before landing that final shot (if the story goes there), like savoring the situation. Of course he also has to ask if Connor has any last words too. That’s definitely not what an efficient machine would have done to make sure it accomplished its mission. In some outcomes his stalling costs him the victory.

Top that off with the ending where deviant Connor dies but the androids still wake up, Sixty is scared and emotional because he failed, scared to be deactivated because of his failure. Then there’s this scene where he shoots deviant Connor eleven times in front of his friend. After that Sixty takes in Hank’s reaction and even torments him by saying Connor’s death was his fault. Still doesn’t sound like a machine much, huh? More like a sadistic psychopath.

Man, I wish we could’ve seen more Sixty, it would’ve been chilling to see if he went full-on rogue, maybe being Markus’ right hand/attack dog on a leash in the violent revolution arc, maybe with his own agenda of taking Markus’ place and wanting to subjugate humanity. Or maybe deviant Connor could’ve persuaded him to their side by making Sixty to see he was nothing but a tool, unintentionally prompting him to seek revenge and to reduce Amanda and Cyberlife to atoms (not what Connor intended haha). There could’ve even been a redemption arc for him, like in a ”what’ve I done?” type way. You know, a bit of an internal moral struggle. And of course, our fave ”sack of shit” (as Hank so eloquently put it) demanding answers from his maker, Kamski, in a not-so, uh, conventional manner. Let them measure their respective arrogance and wit and see who comes out on top. Or would they team up?

Such a delicious character, so many delicious what-ifs.

[chatterbox-73]

Kinktober 2024.

Day 3 - Silk Paradise.

Gojo Satoru x GN!Reader

This story is a smut story for Kinktober, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for Kinktober and if you want to see a character please let me know...

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

Summary/inspiration/prompt: you asked your boyfriend’s roommate to do some laundry for you while your out, however Gojo finds himself getting distracted after finding a couple of cute little pairs of panties, little does he know you find him acting very inappropriately with them but you don’t mind and even decide to help him.

Word count: 1.5k

CW: NSFW and adult content, unprotected sex, slight cheating (open relationship), Masturbation, panty sniffing, gagging, oral (GN!receiving), panty-fucking, eating cum, Gojo being a pervert.

Gojo’s hips snapped forward and he groaned loudly, the man was under the impression he was home alone his roommate and his partner being out for some basketball game or whatever he said, Gojo couldn’t have cared less, even if he tried, however what he did remember was you, his roommate’s partner, you stood so awkwardly next to the man and asked if Gojo could put the baskets of clothes in the washing machine while you were gone and like a fool he agreed immediately.

You could’ve asked him to jump off the roof of a building and he’d dive off for you, you had been a constant in his life, as long as he’d been friends with his roommate, you’d been there, every birthday, holiday and everything else in between, and for as long as he’s known you he’s been madly obsessed with the idea of having you.

Gojo had heard the sinful acts shared between you and his roommate, and to say he was unimpressed was the understatement of the century, though he had also heard you when you were by yourself and gods be good, he’d never heard such heavenly moans in his life.

Gojo grunted as he gave a particularly hard thrust into hand that held the soft silk that was wrapped around his thickness, “so soft, so sweet” he hummed thinking of the way you’d breathlessly gasped with every thrust he made, he thought about how he’d take you, from the back watching your ass jiggle or perhaps he’ll rest his face on your chest as he took you from the front, your delicate fingers playing with his hair, “god damnit… I need to be in you” he groaned throwing his head back and picking up his pace now cause the draws he was leaning over to begin banging into the wall with each of his thrusts.

You walked through the front door and sighed, you had took your boyfriend you weren’t in the mood to be out, to which he responded you’d only be out for an hour, the hour had passed and he had not intention of leaving, so you informed him you were leaving without him. You walked past the kitchen and looked into the laundry room, you found the basket of your boyfriend’s clothes were already in the dryer and the small basket of your clothes had been empty into the washing machine but hadn’t been started, you looked into the washing machine and noticed two very distinct pairs of your underwear were missing, you looked around the room and under the machines, to no avail. You then realised you must have left them in your bedroom, you began to walk down to your bedroom but stop once reaching Gojo’s door, you pressed your ear against the door and listened carefully.

“Yes baby… take it… ahh” you heard Gojo groaned along with the rhythmic thumping of something against the wall, you thought perhaps he had a lover over visiting but he hadn’t mentioned getting a new lover, and his moans seemed very one-sided to you.

You leant in further and the door cracked open ever so slightly, however this was all you needed, you looked through the crack in the door and your eyes went wide at the image before you, there Gojo was leaning over a set of draws his hand fisted over his cock that had been wrapped in a sort of silk material, his hips moving forcefully, while he’s other hand press another piece of silk material to his face, he’s nose pressed into the material and huffed deeply while his tongue licked and lapped at in, “you’re so pretty in your little panties” he groaned into the material and suddenly you realise it was you panties he was using, Gojo was rubbing one out with your panties, his nose was desperately pressed into your use panties, he had to know they were yours no one in the house other then you wore things like that.

“Satoru?” You called softly and Gojo groaned his hips pressing further into his hand, his other hand moving down to wrap the other set of panties around his girthy length and hold him snugly, “fuck I’m going crazy, I can even hear your sweet voice know” he moaned, you smiled at the thought of him being so lost in his own paradise he’d be unable to tell reality from fantasy, “I’d do you so much better then him, I’d have your little body cumming before I even finished sliding you fully onto my cock” he hummed and the thought sounded good.

You’d been finding it hard to get off with your boyfriend, you loved him but he just wasn’t doing it for you, and you knew he had felt the same, he’d even brought up the idea of opening the relationship purely for sex, no love or caring for others, you fuck and that’s it, he’d already found a woman he’d spent a few nights with. When your boyfriend came home and told you all about it, it honestly got you all worked up and you’re found yourself having a very satisfying time with him, however would he have the same reaction if you told him you fucked his roommate and friend, there was really only one way to find out.

You stepped into the room with shaky legs and walked up behind Gojo, your hands moving around him and you placed your hands over his, while pressing your chest to his back and your hips into his ass, “satoru why are you ignoring me, I’m right here and you’d rather fuck a scrap of fabric” you moaned and pressed your legs together, Gojo looked down at your smaller hands holding his large ones his hips still thrusting, however he holt his movements before quickly turning to look down at you, “I’m… I’m very sorry, I don’t-“ Gojo began however before he could spiralling you cut him off, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into kiss you, your lips danced across his and your tongues tangled together.

“Promised to be gentle when you’re in me” you moaned as you wrapped a hand around Gojo’s length and began pumping it slowly, the man swore he was dreaming because how could you, actually even be rubbing his cock, how could you, ever be asking him to have sex with you, groaning he grabbed your shoulders and pushed to around and pressed you into the draws, before sliding his cock between your plush thighs, his shaft and tip pressed snuggly against you.

“Your panties are so soft, let’s dirty them together” Gojo hummed as he slowly thrust his hip, his shaft rubbing delicious against your very hot and sensitive clothed privates, you moaned and whined as you pushed your hips back to meet his, “your soaking through these pretty panties” he hummed and reached down, he pulled the fabric to the side before sliding his cock before your skin and the fabric, you both moaned as you felt your hot skin touch.

Gojo loved the way your panties hugged the underside of his heavy cock, and he could even find the words to describe the feeling of your gorgeous parts pressed so close to his, “is so wet, I’ll let you come against my cock” he laughed and began thrusting quickly, his hands holding the draws, caging you in. Gojo rubbed his nose against your neck as he huffed in your scent, while he forced your hips into the draws repeatedly, causing the wood of the draws to scrape the paint off the wall.

You reached a hand down and began rubbing yourself, moaning you throw your head back on Gojo’s shoulder, “I’m c… god I’m-“ you cried and your body shook, Gojo’s cock twitch and suddenly you felt some hot and wet drip down your thighs, “you came so much…” Gojo whispered in your ear before pressing your chest down against the draws, before he pulled your pants off and stuffed them into your mouth, “tell me… do we taste good together?” He hummed and you nodded, “I don’t know if I should believe you… I’ll have to check for myself” he groaned spreading your thighs and licking all the cum dripping down them, before trailing up, his tongue and lips felt so good against you, he licked and sucked all over your privates, he worked his tongue into your hole, loosening up for him to take fully.

“You’re so sweet, I bet you make even the most sour cum taste sweet” Gojo moaning against your hole, the vibration making you drip and squirm, you moaned through the fabric in your mouth, “you all loosened and ready, you sure you wanna fuck me?” He hummed and you nodded before reaching a hand back to spread your hole open wider, inviting Gojo to take you.

Gojo stood and pressed his tip against you “you really wanna cheat on your boyfriend with his best friend, you’re so damn lewd” he laughed and completely sheathed himself.

Kinktober Masterlist (coming soon)

Day 2 - Dabi/Toya Todoroki: Wax Play.

Day 4 - Levi Ackerman: In plain sight

[redheadspark]

Can I request soulmate promt no. 8 Sharing injuries /w Jack Russell like reader is an avengers and got injure in mission or proteact Jack during danger. so, Jack knows that her is his soulmate.

P.S. I love your writing so much.

A/N - I LOVE this for Jack! Thank you for requesting this, anon!

Also, I had another request for Jack and 8! As I said in my Prompt rules, if I get a EXACT duplicate request, I'll only answer it once!

Matching

Summary - It was already a risk partnering with the infamous Jack Russell during a monster raid, it was another to find out you two were soulmates

Warnings - Mostly fluff and a hint of angst

"What's your twenty on the soldiers?"

"I have my eyes on two of them in the south side of the building," I shot off the two soldiers before they could find you, walking past them and making a quick turn around the corner before you would have to duck out of the way before being pelted with bullets coming your direction. You ducked your head to avoid the dust hitting your eyes and going into your nose.

Already, this mission was not like the others.

Being an Avenger you were used to going against the normal and abnormal when it came to enemies. You seen all and more of your fair share of monsters and space beings, and most of the time you and the other Avengers were able to handle them on your own. But of course, this was something a little more...violent that you had to deal with.

Monsters from the ancient unknown, or the kind you would read about in fairytales.

In a word: Werewolves

Of course you never believed in the notion of werewolves, those were the bedtime stories that would haunt children at night or at summer camp around the fire. But they were, in fact, real. All around the world there were pockets of them living out in the outskirts of civilization, or the daring ones who be on society and be disguised as humans.

Up until recently, there was a code amongst the Lycanthropy population to never interfere with humans to the point of being noticed. However, that was breached over in the high Canadian Rockies with human bodies were being found in the snow with distinct and obvious claw marks to the skin and face.

Yelena Romanoff knew of a monster hunter, she heard from an ex-widow that he would hunt monsters for a living and he was rather good. Rather than relying on F.R.I.D.A.Y and AI that could only go so far with bringing down a beast, She brought in Jack Russell to the Avengers Compound. He was timid thing, looking rather complexed to being amongst the Avengers and being asked to help them bring down the rogue Werewolves.

You were a bit apprehensive yourself, given his appearance in how he too looked rather weathered and tired. It wasn't until he was talking with Sam Wilson that your realized he was a werewolf himself. Much to the shock of the others, his demeanor was nothing like a werewolf. Kind, well manners an a bit shy, highly intelligent with monsters he as reprimanded in the past. He even had a portfolio to show your leader, Sam skimming through page after page to seeing all the beasts he as taken down.

Even Bucky was impressed, only needing to talk to Sam for a minute to hire on Jack in helping with this issue. You were watching from the back with Shang Chi, you two were impressed in how Sam was shaking hands with the monster hunter and then gesturing to you from your spot in the back of the office.

"Y/n will show you around the compound and to the spare office you can use to get your research done, right Y/n?" Sam asked you, Jack looking over at you with his shy smile. You nodded, Shang nudging your shoulder with his and chuckling.

"Have fun with Wolf Boy," He said under your rebate before he slipped out of the room. You just smiled and walked over, shaking hands with Jack and feeling how arm his palm was against yours.

Jack was nothing but nice and kind to you as you two were working together in the preparations and the locations of the werewolves. He had vast intelligence and he knew where to find them in the deep forest and where they would be hiding. You had to hand it to him in how he was precise in his predictions and where they would be hiding out, and sometimes you forgot he too was a werewolf.

He didn't mind sharing his history with him as you two would work deep in the night, hearing the horror stories that he told and all he had to live through just to get where he was. He seemed far too good and gentle to be living in such a state, but he never showed it to you or to the others. The shield he had around himself, he was always strong and at the ready, as if he was afraid that something would crack it and bring it down.

And it did happen finally, that very day.

There was a secret facility out in the Canadian Rockies, filled with scientist and politicians that were trying to maintain and overgrow the werewolf population with bad duplicates of a Lycan venom of sorts. Jack was concerned that werewolves were being taken on site, experimented on and killed in the building since they were still still technically humans.

The mission changed from hunting down the rogue werewolves to stopping the experiments.

Now you were knee deep in the facility, being able to breach the labs that were underground and free out the human captives that were in changes. They were all so frightened, backed and hunched the corner of their cages with wounds all over their body. Making sure that Yelena was nearby with Kate in one of the jets, you and Jack ushered the captives out before the soldiers could try and retrieve them. If left you and Jack split up, needed to hold up against the soldiers that were piling in.

"Anyone have a visual on Jack?" Sam asked in your ear piece, you looking around the corner to take a few spots from your own gun, hitting two more of the soldiers before ducking back again.

"I lost him back in the lab, we're swamped down here," You replied, feeling a bullet almost hit your shoulder and you yelped a bit.

"I'm coming down to help, hang in there," Shang explained to you on his end the line. You were about to tell him not to, since you could handle the last of the soldiers that were there when you saw a body fly past you in such a blur that you made you freeze. A soldier was launched past you, hitting the concrete wall in front of you so violently and deeply that cracks were all around the now dead soldiers' body as he was hunched over on the floor.

You were shocked, never seeing that before.

A low growl was heard behind you in the hallway, way too animalistic to be something normal. You shot up and turned on your heel, facing the hallway with a gun out and aimed at whatever it was. But there was no monster, nor was there a soldier there.

It was Jack, out of breath with splatters of blood on his face and on his gear.

He had fists at his sides, his hair disheveled and the look of a fight in his eyes as you two were locking eyes with one another. It didn't click in you head for a solid second, but then it was sinking in that he was the one who launched that soldier as if he was a ball of paper. With the pair of your watch each other, a soldi moment of quiet and pause in a chaotic mission, if felt like you two were no longer there. But in your own world together, something simple and almost....almost warmth.

But that was shattered when you heard movement behind you and you whirled around. Another soldier grabbed you before you could shoot, wrapping his fingers around your neck to shove you against the wall. You were about to throw out a punch to get him off of you when he struck your palm, cutting it deeply.

You yelled out in pain, but you heard another equally loud scream from Jack.

Jack ran forward, almost like a football player and launching himself on the soldier and tackling him to the ground with such strengthened force that it seemed abnormal. It was his wolf strength, and with your throbbing hand that was pouring out blood, you watched Jack take the soldier to the ground with ease. He wrapped his hands around the soldier's neck and snapped it with a second, the body gig limp and once again there was silence.

You were shocked at it all, Jack slowly getting up from being hunched over the now dead soldier and grunting a bit in pain. As he turned, you saw something there, on the left palm that was crimson red. Your heart stopped.

The same slabs on your palm, was on his. That meant....

Soulmate.

Soulmates were rare, something that was heard of but also taboo in your universe. Only a small population on the planet had soulmates, you learned about it in school as a little girl. When two people, or three in very rear cases, feel each other's pain and injuries and even mirrors the injuries, then they were considered mates. It could happen early in life or late, and it could happen at any time in a person's life.

Their souls were considered as one, sharing everything from thoughts and feelings to injuries and pain. Of course, you were a realist and never considered yourself to have a soulmate, since soulmates were merely a luck of the draw. Nothing to do with biology or genetics, it was all about luck and who was lucky enough to be tethered to another person.

So now, you were looking at your soulmate in the middle of a mission.

"Jack, Y/n, I have your locations and I'm bringing the jet over, give me one minute! Get yourselves out int he open where I can find you," Yelena said in your earpiece,but you were locking eyes with Jack, your soulmate. He looked just as shocked as you, his eyes were a bit wider and his stance was rigid. It was almost like you two were shifting inwardly, your heart expanding and almost shrinking at the same time merely because you knew that another soul was going to make room in there.

All you could do was walk over to Jack, seeing him so still and stiff that he was afraid to move. You reached out with your wounded hands, taking his won wounded hands to have your mirrored cuts on your palms connect. Jack shuddered, nearly ready to cry as you could only smile. As crazy as it was that it happened like that, you couldn't help but smile since joy was seeping through out.

"Let's get out go here, and we'll talk about when we're safe," Your explained, Jack nodding his head as he then moved to tug you along. You two never releasing your joined hands as you were tagging along behind him to find the jet.

Months later, with a sliver of a scar on each of your palms, you both were living your lives together on the Avengers Compound and blissfully happy.

Very much in love, with matching scars to show off.

The End.

Soulmates Prompt Session

[your-talos-is-problematic]

Writing prompt! Afonya and Serana's first meeting? I feel like it has to have been interesting.

It’s finished! Turned out a bit long but it’s a really good practice for Afonya’s narration and dialogue style and also I have had ideas about Afonya and Serana’s dynamic for a long time hehe. Spoilers: she triggers Afonya’s maternal/sisterly instincts.

———————————————————————— Damn my Malacath-cursed restlessness. Dimhollow Crypt was my third vampire den in the past month, and I was more than over it. This one was also much larger than the others. Brey and I had been deep in the crypt for at least an hour, and so far we were not at all close to finding anything that the vampires would be searching for here. Unless they were searching for draugr hordes, which were both the least desirable thing I could think of and painfully common in Skyrim. All of this was combining to make me regret my insistence on helping out the Dawnguard.

“What are we looking for, Afonya?” Brelyna asked. “Like, specifically?”

I gave a dramatic sigh. “Only Apocrypha knows. And we’re only here because a Vigilant said so, and to them, everything is strange or dangerous.” Brelyna broke out into her giggly laughter, probably at my horrible vocal impression of the Daedra-hating crusaders. I finished removing the leg of a frostbite spider’s corpse and stood to scan the room, noticing a lever a few feet ahead of me. I strode to pull it, and in response, the gate next to it swung open. My wife looked up in surprise from the book she was holding.

“Did you start reading that to fill the thirty seconds I was figuring this out?” I asked.

Brelyna smiled. “My parents taught me not to waste time.”

I peered at the book’s spine. “Not to waste it on good books, either.”

She shrugged. “I like a romance.”

“I know.” I pulled down my mask- an extra line of defense against the vampires’ infections, just in case- to give her a kiss. “Now let’s go prove some Vigilants wrong.”

I stepped through the gate and crossed the empty room behind it, muttering a few draconic words (lass-yah-nir) to gauge if anyone was behind the wooden door on the opposite wall. The dragonfire highlighted four figures in some sort of cavern beyond, below where we were. I crouched and put a finger to my lips, trying to signal to the red mist surrounding Brelyna that she should be quiet.

Creeping forward, I slowly pushed open the door. Behind it was another empty room, with an open gate and another lever, which were a strange staple of Nord crypts. I quietly walked forward to get a better view of the figures below, eyeing but not touching a scroll that was set on a pedestal in the middle of the room. Brelyna made a wildly unsuccessful attempt at quietly summoning a frost atronach, making me cringe.

There was a conversation going on below between the distinctive measured tone of a vampire and the distinctive trying-to-sound-brave voice of a Vigilant. A look confirmed this- a man with the characteristic theatricality and orange eyes of a vampire stood, knife held to the throat of a bound man in blue robes. A nervous-looking vampire and an expressionless skeleton stood a few steps away.

The Vigilant’s voice was hoarse. “-anything, vampire. My oath to Stendarr is stronger than any suffering you can inflict on me.” Of course he’s bringing up Stendarr. Typical.

A mean-spirited laugh escaped the dark-haired vampire’s lips. “I believe you, Vigilant. And I don’t think you even know what you’ve found here.” Ooh. At least that suggested some degree of interest to whatever was in this cavern. Darkly, he delivered, “So go and meet your beloved Stendarr,” before the squishy sound of a slitted throat and a sigh from the woman behind him cut through the air. This prompted an argument between the two vampires, which I mostly ignored.

I pooled my magical energy into a Magelight spell in my left hand and briefly considered feeling bad for mocking the now-dead Vigilant. Before firing, however, I overheard something that sounded important: the name “Harkon”, uttered ominously. After that, Brelyna’s frost atronach appeared to get bored and rushed past me, down the slope.

“Sorry!” she called out.

I winced and sent my spell flying, letting it land near the vampires and hopefully blind them. I attempted to follow up with a bolt of fire, but my aim was off and it slammed into Brelyna’s chest. “My time to apologize now?” I asked.

“Yes!”

The vampires, though aggravated, were quick work when attacked from above, and a little bit of draconic magic sent the skeleton flying into the cavern’s murky water. After we dealt with them, one cast of a restoration spell healed any possible damage to my wife’s skin, and one promise to cook dinner relieved her annoyance.

Together, we moved across a strangely elegant bridge to a massive circular stone structure that took up the majority of the room. Something about its dark stone and the thin, pointy arches that rose out of the base gave the entire thing an ominous appearance.

Brelyna clung to my arm, feeling the rock with her foot. “There’s channels in the ground. In a pattern, and not one you’d usually build a floor in.” I watched her red eyes lift up to scan the rest of the room.

“Like a symbol?” I asked.

She shook her head, still looking at the stone. “Like a puzzle. Keeping something hidden, probably.”

I sunk my face into my hands. “I am done with this cave. We’re getting whatever scroll or book or weapon they’re after, dropping it off at the Dawnguard, and going home to the Pale to sleep for two days straight.” I left Brelyna to her examination and approached the structure’s center, where a stone pedestal sat with a button on it. “Brelyna, should I press this?”

She looked up. “There’s braziers around the edge of the room. They move.”

“Great. But the pedestal, Brey.”

She shrugged. “Sure. Don’t cry if it cuts your hand off.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I’ll be smart about it.” I stepped back and focused on a telekinesis spell, using it to push the button down. Nothing happened.

“It wants your hand,” Brelyna giggled.

“Romantic.” Wincing and looking away, pressed my left hand into the stone button. Right on cue, I felt something pierce the middle of my hand. Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Mephala’s quietude. Don’t let yourself scream. I eventually managed “Nchow.” Not elegant, but at least a word, not a scream.

“What can I say. I have Azura’s sight,” Brelyna said from behind me. Her smirk faded to a grimace as her eyes moved to my hand. “Oh. Three.”

“It’s bad?”

“It’s all the way through,” she said apologetically. I felt the need to throw up. “Sorry, Afonya.” She grabbed my fingers. “Okay. Hold eye contact.”

I stared at her. “Aren’t you not going to know if I’m actually looking in your eyes because-“

“Ssh. On three.” Despite my pride, I clung tightly to her shoulder with my right hand. “One. Two.” She ripped my hand out of the spike, causing a burning pain to rip through it. “Sorry.” A gold glow emanated from her hand; I felt the usual tingle of my bones mending themselves.

I investigated my left hand for any lasting damage. Everything seemed fine except the blood coating it. “You thought going on two would work on me?”

“It’s just what my parents always did.”

“Doesn’t that ruin the surprise?”

She frowned. “Oh. Yeah. Look.”

I turned behind me to see ghostly purple fire  in a circle around us, coming from the stone indent Brelyna had pointed out. A line of it extended out to one of the braziers. “Do you think we need to-“

“Move the braziers so they all light up?” she offered.

I laughed. “We’ve done this too many times.” We split up to put together the puzzle. Note to the ancient Nords, there are too many puzzles in these tombs. It’s aggravating.

The light eventually formed a pattern that was irregular and didn’t seem to communicate anything, but I got out my notebook and walked to the center of the structure to draw it out anyways. I only got through a few lines before the ground started shaking. Grabbing an arch to steady myself, I watched as the floor descended. It fell to form steps down to the pedestal in the middle, which was resting on top of a newly-revealed pentagonal structure.

My heart jumped into my throat, and I gasped as one of the structure’s walls slid open. A form with its hands crossed over its chest slid forward to land on the ground. I ran forward to help it- her up, but she recoiled from my hands and stood up on her own.

“Sorry.” My voice came out squeakier than  usual. Brelyna strode across the stone to have a view of the conversation, but stayed noticeably far enough away to not be part of it.

She brushed her hands on her sides, strangely calm. “Who sent you?”

Before answering, I mentally listed the important things about this woman. Number one: orange eyes. Vampire. And if they weren’t orange, they’d probably be blue- she was a Nord. Number two: she looked young, around the age Elia was when I left for Skyrim. A year older, at most. Which led me to number three, the reason I had been staring at her for so long. Skin tone, hair length, and rounded ears aside, she looked uncannily like my sister.

Brelyna walked over to whisper in my ear. “You were right about there being a scroll.”

Oh. Right. Number four: strapped to her back was an Elder Scroll. Just like the one that had been locked away in the College’s library since I’d defeated Alduin. She cleared her throat, probably in reference to me not answering her question.

“Sorry. Uh- why do you ask?”

“You’re a surprise. I was expecting someone- like me.”

“Oh. Makes sense.” I nodded, then realized my guard was down way more than it should be. “Why were you… entombed?”

“Complicated reasons.” Her eyes scanned me and Brelyna, lingering on the sword at my waist and the mask over my mouth. “And I don’t know if I trust you yet. Get me home, and we’ll talk.” Her tone was practiced, but strangely warm for a sealed-away undead. Not a high bar to cross, but still.

I let out a sniff. “Sure.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Depends.” I tried to reassume my usual persona. “Where did- do you live?”

“There’s an island, west of Solitude. That’s our best bet.”

I could feel Brelyna’s nails digging into my wrist, and glanced in her direction to see her masking a laugh. I turned back to the girl. “Give me five minutes to talk to my wife and figure out a route.”

Brelyna basically dragged me away by the arm. “Don’t you think we’re being a little bit rash about this, Af?” She sounded somewhere between anxious and entertained, so the usual. “Oh no. You look protective.”

I sighed and moved closer to her ear. “She reminds me of my sister.” 

“Ohhhh.” She very obviously turned to look at the girl again. “Oh. Yeah.”

“And she’s what- eighteen? We’re going to abandon a teenager in a ruin?”

She paused to consider, then concluded,“Probably a bad idea.”

I turned back to the girl. “We’re ready, Elia.”

“Sure.” She looked skeptical. “I’m not named Elia, though.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Three, Afonya. “We’ll go westward. We’ll try to get to Morthal tonight- I can pay for an inn.”

“Understood.” She glanced back at the stone tomb, as if she might have been buried with any possessions. “Not going to ask my name?”

Right. Gods, get yourself together. “Right. I do not know your name.” After a second, I realized something else. “And I’m Afonya.”

“There you go. I’m Serana.” The laughter in her voice was a good sign, though it was surprising that she wasn’t more panicked about all of this. It was also strange to me that she hadn’t made a single comment about her rescuers being elves. That put vampires above werewolves in terms of merish acceptance.

As we moved toward the other side of the stone structure and hopefully the exit of this Molag-damned ruin, I noticed Brelyna slide up to Serana’s side.

“That’s an Elder Scroll,” she attempted to whisper.

“Yeah. I know. Hands off.” I could hear her readjust the scroll.

“Sorry.” Brelyna sounded disappointed. “When we get you home, can I-“

“No.” Serana and I answered at the same time.

[thebandcampdiaries]

Fear Of Falling introducing a brand new release: "Hands On Me"

Fear Of Falling is a band with a focus on creating music that seamlessly explores a huge range of styles, including indie rock, dream-pop, and more. They recorded 3 albums and toured internationally in the 1990s. Today, they’re back after 20 years on a hiatus, as ready as ever with exciting new music.

The group’s most recent song, “Hands On Me,” stands out as a perfect example of the varied and one-of-a-kind formula that animates the composition. The rhythm section, with Bruce DiBisceglie on bass and Rob Savoy on drums, is extremely effective. The track begins with a soothing drone and some jangly electric guitars, setting the mood as the drums slowly creep in. The soft swing of the hi-hat pedal leads us into the groove, with a sparse yet driven beat that adds some backbone to the track without disrupting its atmosphere. Guitarist/Producer Kimon Katafigiotis was also instrumental in bringing this song to fruition, helping it reach its full potential.

After a quick instrumental break, the vocals by the gifted singer Steve Lanni are left to face the crowd alone. This is a bold choice, and a particularly powerful one: the vocals alone almost feel solemn, reminiscent of the iconic take on indie popularized by artists such as Arcade Fire or The Killers, among others. In addition, “Hands On Me” also features subtle hints of shoegaze and new-wave, with beautiful female-male vocal layers (with guest vocalist Holdn) in the vein of artists like Slowdive, Tears For Fears or Dead Rituals, only to mention a few.

Each member of the band has its own sonic space in the mix, and "Hands On Me" feels like a perfect opportunity to push the boundaries of the band’s vision and sound.

Clocking in at 3 minutes and 51 seconds, the track progressively reaches an even more grandiose and ambitious scope, with stunning orchestral elements and expressive vocals that prompt comparisons with legends such as David Bowie or David Byrne. What makes "Hands On Me" special is definitely the fact that it showcases the band’s diverse stylistic references and signals their ability to blur the lines between various influences.

Find out more and stream:

We also had the opportunity to ask the band a few questions: keep reading to learn more!

I love how you manage to render your tracks so personal and organic. Does the melody come first, or do you focus on the beat the most?

Answer: Typically, the band will work a rhythm on the fly, or someone will bring in an idea as a starting point. Everyone adds their own flavors while the melody emerges. Sometimes, we'll have lyrical ideas, but even if we do have pre-conceived lyrics, they grow as the rhythm and melody take shape. When there is a thematic element, we'll try to align everything without forcing the issue.

Do you perform live? If so, do you feel more comfortable on a stage or within the walls of the recording studio?

Answer: That's a great question. Yes, Fear Of Falling has performed at nearly 400 concerts, so live shows come naturally to the band. Audience reaction is a huge part of the show, and our audiences make it very easy for us to be as comfortable as possible. In the studio, that live reaction isn't there, and everything gets microscoped during playbacks.

If you could only pick one song to make a "first impression" on a new listener, which song would you pick and why?

Answer: That's always been difficult to figure out. It's like asking a family who their favorite child is. The truth is that each of us has a short list of songs that best represent us, and depending on who you ask, you'll get a different reply. While we do have a distinct sound, the songs range from rock to stripped-down, from full-blown wall-of-sound to even industrial. We polled our fans, and "King Of America" was the favorite, but a good first impression would be the most recent singles, "Looking Out For Number One," "Keanu Reeves," and the new one, "Hands On Me."

What does it take to be "innovative" in music? 

Answer: Now, that's easy. While it is cliché to say, simply stay true to the music. Songs have a mind of their own and know where they want to go. If we allow that to happen, then anything is fair game. It doesn't matter if you're 16 or 60; keeping an open mind to new ideas will guarantee innovation.

Any upcoming release or tour your way?

Answer: We do have the third single, "Hands On Me," being released next week on Quark's record label, and then there will be live shows to go along with that. We've done that for years: release and support. That's what's gotten us to tour North America and Europe. We do have an EP in the works for spring, and a full-blown album should show itself by the end of the year, if not earlier.

Anywhere online where curious fans can listen to your music and find out more about you?

Answer: If people are looking to try out new music, see new videos, and deep dive into Fear Of Falling, they can find it all here: https://linktr.ee/fof.usa

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

i cant remember if someone asked you your opinions on the pomefiore members but uh- thoughts pls? ^^;

Before we start, a note: when I share my opinions on characters, I like to think of them from two different perspectives: that of a content creator and that of a casual fan. As such, I’ll be speaking on both what I think of writing each boy, as well as what I think of each boy on a personal level outside of writing.

Let’s begin!

👑 Vil 👑

This may come as a shock, but I would actually say I like writing Vil more than writing Rook 😂 Vil has a certain maturity about him that helps him command whatever scene he’s in. It makes it easier for me to write dialogue if someone like Vil is the focal point, the one guiding discussion. He comes off as regal and stern—a powerful person you don’t want to cross. It’s a delight when a character’s bite matches their bark.

The way Vil speaks and composes himself fits very well with my writing style. I also happen to have an interest in beauty, so I have the vocabulary to make Vil ramble about fashion, skincare, etc. His dialogue comes so naturally to me that sometimes I space out, and by the time I’ve drifted back, I’ve typed up a whole speech for Vil. Channeling that “tough love” energy of his is strangely cathartic—and the drive and self-assuredness that Vil exudes makes me feel more confident in myself when I write him.

All that being said, I don’t really care for Vil as a character. I admire his willingness to work hard to achieve his goals and that he challenges traditional gender roles. I definitely find his inner turmoil fascinating, and it’s interesting that he’s one of the... nicer dorm leaders, but my love for him stops there. I don’t mind that he’s strict (because in a cast as big as TWST’s, we’re bound to have some sticklers), but nothing about what Vil is appeals to me.

He’s... conventionally attractive, I guess????? But I’ve never liked his looks (especially not his purple Kool-aid dyed hair) nor have I considered him to be “fairest of them all”. I think most of his looks are just too severe for me, too bold of an eye look or too much with the hair 😔 and his vanity (because he does have it) isn’t an appealing trait either. His career is a big deterrent as well; I nope away from celebrities of all kinds because being one inherently puts the spotlight on him (and I have a strong preference for characters that work “in the shadows”, so to speak, over ones that have eyes on them at all times).

I also just disagree with some of his teaching; I get that Vil has good intentions, but I feel that, at times, he goes too far with his methods and imposes unrealistic expectations onto others. This is excused by TWST as “Vil is a celebrity, so he holds others to high standards as well”, but I feel that Vil needs to step back, take his own advice to take “context” into consideration, and think about others’ limitations and how to adapt to them instead of continuously pushing his own views with little regard for those limitations. In chapter 5, I totally get that he was blinded by envy and personal ambitions, but Vil overall is less like a character I’d enjoy and more like a tiger parent I’d want to keep away from.

🏹 Rook 🏹

Rook’s a joy for me to write (I love his positive attitude!), but I’ll be the first to admit that he isn’t easy. He often speaks in long, (unnecessarily) flowery sentences, which makes it a nightmare to arrange in a manner that makes sense but also reads well. You don’t want to throw in too many words or else it seems redundant or confuses the reader, but you don’t want to throw in too few because it wouldn’t be close enough to Rook’s poetic prose.

The occasional French phrases that he sprinkles in also trip me up 💦 I don’t know how to add those funky accent marks on letters, so I need to open a new tab and go out of my way to search for them... Sometimes I can’t quite remember certain nicknames or exclamations that Rook says, so I need to have 1-2 separate tabs open to cross reference the appropriate resources. When I’ve actually written all his dialogue out, then I go back and double check to make sure everything flows well and that the French is correct.

A unique challenge that comes with writing Rook is describing things from his perspective. Every scene is a work of art, and every possible negative thing is somehow spun to be positive. I have to sit there in my chair and have a good, long think sometimes before I can properly pour all my energy into a pure sensory overload of a description, or to find something good to say about something bad 😂 I feel like I’m never fully doing Rook justice, but I try my best with what I’ve got....!

Anyway~ It should be pretty clear from the multitude of thirst posts that Rook is my favorite from Pomefiore! I just like reading his superfluous way of speaking and how it weirds out everyone around him, but that he’s also very sharp-witted and observant if you look past that silly exterior. You don’t think he would backstab you until it’s way too late, so you definitely don’t want him as an enemy (like damn, this man can determine a LOT of your personal details just from looking at you; he’s TWST’s Sherlock Holmes) 😳 But when he’s on your side, he can be your greatest cheerleader. Rook’s just the kind of friend supporting me!

It’s also very admirable that Rook can stay so positive and see the beauty in even the worse of things and situations; that kind of optimism is such a rarity that it’s refreshing to me. No one could write a whole ass poem dedicated to how wonderful Crowley is BUT Rook. No one would long for the taste of poison and coo about how beautifully deadly an OB is BUT Rook. Admittedly, I sometimes experience intense second hand embarrassment at the cornier things Rook says 😂 He is cringe, but at least he is free............................

🍎 Epel 🍎

Epel is, hands down, my least favorite of the Pomefiore trio (this goes for both writing and for personal appeal). Compared to the other characters, Epel has a pretty passive and indistinctive way of talking in most of his dialogue. This frustrates me because when I read back what I’ve written for him, I constantly worry that he sounds too generic or that it’s difficult to distinguish his voice from the other characters’ voices. I have to contain my efforts to make it “be more Epel-y”, because otherwise every other sentence would be about apples, and “apples” is most certainly not his entire personality.

When his accent comes out, the situation somehow gets worse 😔 It’s very difficult to “translate” Epel’s dialect into English, but I usually default to the what can be considered a “southern drawl” in the United States (which I can’t write very well). This leads me to smashing together letters to make close approximations of other words or straight up using country-isms to replace more commonly spoken phrases. It tends to result in a big, confusing mess that reads very clunkily and hurts my eyes to look at 😷

The timing of when his accent comes out also confuses me. During chapter 5, it seems that the accent makes itself known only when Epel is angry or loses composure, but we’ve seen in a lot of recent vignettes that he can also casually switch between the two as long as Vil’s not around. I had to switch my writing up to adapt to the new lore. Writing Epel’s “accent” dialogue offends me—

I’ve often seen people describe Pomefiore as a “found family” dynamic, in which Vil and Rook are the parents and Epel is their rebellious child. Honestly, I’ve found that that’s my preferred way to digest Epel content (or really, any Epel interaction with other characters works) because I find him way too boring on his own. Sure, he’s cute with his looks and his shyness (when he’s putting on an act), but cuteness alone doesn’t endear me to a character and his politeness feels generic. Meanwhile, Epel’s wild child side comes off as very... one-note to me? It’s usually played for laughs (like “no one can understand him”) and he quickly goes back to his “polite” way of speaking right after, so it feels like a gimmick despite being told it’s an integral part of his identity. I only really felt that was true when we finally got to visit Harveston and learn more about its culture, but I feel that we shouldn’t need a whole event to significantly expand a character; Epel should be able to stand on his own as someone interesting, and he just... doesn’t to me.

It definitely doesn’t help that his character arc in chapter 5 seemed kind of rushed. I get that they were trying to show us Epel’s views on gender roles were regressive and how he changed for the better, but I really don’t think he should have made a 180 as quickly as he did; it paints an unrealistic view of how fast we should expect people to change their toxic opinions in the real world. Chapter 5 could have had Epel beginning to open his heart to change, not completely changing in the span of like a month.

[eruden-writes]

Room & Board - Part 10 (Vampire x Reader)

Anon submitted this prompt: For the prompt submissions a vampire that feels guilty after feeding/attacking someone so they leave obscenely valuable ancient artifacts as payment/an apology?

Part 1 | Previous | Masterlist | Next

x x x x x

Comments, tags, and reblogs are real motivators for me, too! (●ˇ∀ˇ●)

Also, my inbox is always open for asks, so don’t be shy!

x x x x x

A sudden surge pulses through the air between the two as their eyes meet. It's like unseen forces, snapping jaws at each other. In that moment, you are painfully aware of how they dwarf you in height, though Tabaeus is certainly taller than Ewan.

Ewan's nostrils flares, his eyes narrowing as his head cocks to the side at Tabaeus. The smile on his lips loses its friendliness and you can't help but think of it like a snarl. "Yeah. We used to work together at the mall."

"How intriguing," Tabaeus purrs as they raise their eyebrows. Their hands twitch on yours. Something is not being said between the two and you're not entirely sure it has anything to do with you. A masked sort of haughtiness mingles with jest as Tabaeus nods to Ewan's work shirt. "From the mall to the streets? Some would consider that a step down."

"I work in a lot of places," Ewan retorts, his eyebrows lowering as the slightest bite of embarrassment flushes their cheeks. Your former colleague angles their attention back to you, though they seem to have a hard time not glaring at Tabaeus's arms locking you in place. "Who's this guy?"

With a sigh, you nod to the vampire, "This is Tabaeus, my roommate. They/them."

"And he/him," they added, with a pointed tone to Ewan. You think they give your hands another squeeze, but you're not entirely certain it was a conscious movement.

"And he/him," you correct yourself. Craning your neck to look up at Tabaeus, you try to catch their eyes with your own meaningful look. However, the vampire's attention is squarely on your former colleague. "This is Ewan, he/him."

"Pleasure." The word comes out more like a hiss as Tabaeus flashes a smile at Ewan. You want to groan, seeing that the vampire's fangs are on full display.

Thankfully, Ewan doesn't seem put off as he mimics Tabaeus's polite toothy grimace with one of his own. Part of you wonders if his canines have always been so angular and sharp. "Likewise."

The pressure in the air weighs heavier than it did before. A need to do something to alleviate the tension shoots through you, instinct telling you something bad will happen if you don't.

"I won't keep you, Ewan." Behind you, Tabaeus relaxes, until you add with a softer tone, "We can text or chat online later, okay?"

Tabaeus completely forgotten, Ewan's attention turns fully to you. The friendliness returns to his smile, his posture easing. "Sure. Your number on your receipt?"

You mirror his smile and give a nod, even as you feel a strange coldness wrap around Tabaeus. Their stillness has a strange air to it, but you try to ignore it. "Yeah, feel free to snag it there and shoot me a text."

"Cool, cool." Ewan glances at the copy of the receipt he has in hand, as if already dedicating your number to memory in his head. Your stomach swirls as he looks back up at you, offering you that warm smile - not even glancing at Tabaeus - before he turns to go. "Well, have a good night."

Awkwardly, you and Tabaeus watch Ewan trod down the walk to his car, though you get the distinct impressions you watch the delivery man for different reasons. Once Ewan turns his car on, Tabaeus yoinks the food from your grasp and heads inside.

You spin around, glaring at the vampire's back after you shut and lock the door. They don't seem to notice. "What was that about?"

"Hm? What do you mean?" Tabaeus doesn't even turn to face you as they head into the kitchen.

"That tension!" Undeterred, you follow the vampire, your feet moving fast as if Tabaeus would run away. Something inside you cringes, hearing your heavy footfalls as angry stomps. "It was like being between two large animals that were ready to tear each other apart."

"Ah," is all they say as they line the boxes on the counter. One-by-one, Tabaeus opens the boxes to examine the pizzas and breadsticks and brownie lava cake, before poking into a plastic bag that holds your sodas. They're refusing to meet your eye.

"Ah? Ah?" You mimic their answer, crossing your arms over your chest. Still, Tabaeus refuses to look at you. "That's all you have to say?"

"Well, your assessment is not wrong."

That answer momentarily knocks the air from your lungs. Your determination of the situation - being stuck between Tabaeus and Ewan - being akin to being surrounded by two large beasts is not wrong? What the hell did that mean?

Your brain sputters answers, but you don't want to look too long at them. Part of you is afraid what might be correct.

"Why is my assessment not wrong?" The question comes off more like a demand as you watch Tabaeus glide around the kitchen, accumulating plates and utensils. With a steadfast air, they ignore your question.

As you continue to watch them, a dread swells in your stomach. They only smile as they hand you a plate, heaped with pizza and breadsticks. With wide angry eyes, you stare up at them and your voice quivers at the edges, "Tabaeus, why is my assessment not wrong?"

They do not answer. Instead, they turn to put a slice of pizza and a breadstick on their own plate.

You do not like how they're ignoring you. Without thinking, you noisily drop your plate to the counter, where it clatters and threatens to spill. The noise startles the vampire, who turns to you with wide eyes.

"Tabaeus, you tell me what is going on right now!" At your sides, your hands fist into tight balls. You try to ignore the waver to your voice, overcome with the sudden thought that something is going on that you're ignorant of.

Was Tabaeus keeping a secret, knowing it would give away potential lies they'd told? Did they know Ewan, personally? Was this some worldwide conspiracy to keep creatures of the night a secret from humanity?

The growing itch in your thoughts that had begun in the sewer morphed into a clawing sensation, razing in your synapses. What was Tabaeus hiding?

Your mind spun with questions and theories and worries. The revolving thoughts churned harder, making your stomach hurt, the longer it took Tabaeus to answer.

"I do not know," Tabaeus started, quietly and carefully. Their eyes turned toward your plate, their brows knitted with frustration. Carefully, they lower their own plate to the counter, perhaps to keep from throwing it down themselves. "All I know is that thing is... is..."

No more words come, even after you give them a few breaths to sort through whatever thoughts mill about their head. With a frown, you bite out, "Ewan is what?"

"Dangerous and vile, but simultaneously arrogant and harmless. Capable of rending humans in twain, but weak compared to a vampire." The words rush out of Tabaeus's mouth, rage and anger mangling their tone into something ragged. All the while, they shake their head, as if not entirely certain of their own words, a hint of confusion hiding under the venom. "A mangy creature that believes it owns the night when it emphatically does not."

Savagely, Tabaeus spits out as their snarl deepens, "It does not own anything but fleas."

Quiet falls in the empty space between you both as Tabaeus still refuses to meet your gaze. Their shoulders hunch with tension and a frown carves deep across their lips. A glow pulses in their red eyes, their fangs noticeably growing and overlapping their lower lip.

"That doesn't sound like you don't know what Ewan is," you say carefully, your own brows furrowed. You can't put your finger on it, but something seems off with Tabaeus. At once, worry and uncertainty tumble through your thoughts.

Tabaeus shifts on their feet, casting their eyes to the other side of the kitchen but not toward you. "I do not. I just know how he makes me feel."

You narrow your eyes, a suspicion hedging into your forethoughts. "Are werewolves a thing?"

The word makes Tabaeus stiffen, their eyes widening. A considering look crosses their features, their fingers going to their chin in thought. "That feels correct."

"Are you saying Ewan is a werewolf?"

"Yes," Tabaeus announces after another moment of silent thought. They finally turn their eyes to you, a renewed sense of affirmation in their tone as their hands clench. "Ewan is a smelly, stinking, mangy lycanthrope. And you offered him a place in our home!"

It takes a lot of self-discipline to keep from snapping back at Tabaeus. The house was not an 'ours' situation. It was yours. This was their payment for you agreeing to be a feeding bag. The bite of your nails in your palms distracts from the instant irritation.

You take a deep breath, trying to think through the issue at hand.

If lore or media was to be believed, there was active hostility between vampires and werewolves. It also sounded as if Tabaeus was being territorial. Either about the house or about the night, as a whole. Their actions didn't make sense to you. Not after the time you had spent with the vampire.

They were sweet and kind, perhaps a little naive. Definitely prone to temptation, when it came to blood. This bristling, hate-filled rage felt anomalous to what you were used to.

From an animalistic point of view, however, it did make sense. Holding possession over certain territories and resources was an instinct. Of course, it was perhaps harder for vampires to retain control of such things rather than werewolves. The latter didn't have to drink blood or only travel at night.

If what Tabaeus said about Ewan was true, you had been none-the-wiser to the canid monster as well!

"I didn't know he was a werewolf," you say once you feel the words will come out levelly. There's still a heat to your reply and you return Tabaeus's glare with one of your own. Your lips screw up into a frown, trying to equate what you know of Ewan to a werewolf. In a way, you suppose he could be.

The man was loyal and playful, like a dog, but he could get fierce when needed. There had been plenty of times he'd stepped in when a customer flirted in unwanted ways or when a seriously aggro customer was throwing a fit. Hell, you had seen him literally vault over the Lemon Jollies's counter once and run down a mall patron that was attempting to take off with someone else's toddler!

And it was hard to hang out with him, after hours. He always claimed he had another job to scurry off to, but what if he was hiding his own nature?

Shaking the memories from your head, you heave a sigh. "Even if I did know that, he's a decent person! He has, like, zero red flags, which is pretty rare."

Those words caused Tabaeus to still. In a dangerous way. You eye them, cocking an eyebrow, just before he quietly asks, "And how many red flags do I have?"

At that, you press your lips tightly together.

"How many red flags do I have?" Tabaeus repeats, their fists clenching tightly at their sides.

"It's hard for me to say, for sure." Which is true. It's hard to gauge Tabaeus, especially when his personality has changed and shifted so many times. Before tonight, you chalked it up to them healing from whatever happened to them. With this new snag, you're not sure. They talked about werewolves in a fashion that feels too un-Tabaeus to you. But, you barely knew them, didn't you?

As you internally fret over that, you try to answer the vampire's question. You can't help gesturing with your hands as you speak, the stress of everything making it hard to contain yourself. "You don't have solid memories, but you say things that worry me. Sometimes, I wonder if this is all just a big trick. That you do know who you are and you still have memories."

Instead of instant anger and rage, as you brace yourself for, a stricken look crosses Tabaeus's features. They take a step toward you and, to your credit, you stand your ground. "I swear to you, amata, my memories are not whole. I am not tricking you."

There was an urgent desperation in Tabaeus's words as they touched their own chest, their palm splayed wide. The look in their eyes is so full of emotions - so earnest and pained and hopeful - you can't hold their gaze. You recall the scars on their torso and chest, your stomach lurching as you remember the ones that bore a resemblance to autopsy cuts.

"All I know for certain is you drink blood and are capable of hypnotizing people if you wanted to." The words slip past softly your lips, your eyes shifting to a dark corner of the kitchen. There is so much you don't know about Tabaeus, so much they don't know about themselves. Their request to have you lay out their red flags feels so unfair.

"That is all you are certain of when it comes to me?" Tabaeus is looking for a certain answer. Hoping for a certain answer. A quick flash of memory, of the tangled mess on the floor the two of you were before the pizza arrived, sends a painful heat across your cheeks. Embarrassed, excited, mortified.

"Yes, mostly." Pain throbs through your temple and you feel the need to retreat and gather up your wits. Grabbing your plate, you turn on your heel and head toward your office. "Look, I'm hungry and you just unloaded some things I need to think about, okay?"

Leaving Tabaeus in the kitchen, not even waiting for their response, you retreat to your office.

There, you put your headphones on and put on a mindless show as you eat, hoping for a few moments of reprieve from a sudden whirlwind of emotion and information. You barely taste the pizza as your mind gnaws on other things.

What would have happened if the kiss had continued? If there had been no food delivery to interrupt it? Your thoughts spill over with imagined scenarios, making your anger-flushed cheeks burn with other emotions.

Of course, it had been interrupted. By Ewan.

Who was possibly a werewolf...

The animosity between werewolves and vampires ran deep. To the point Tabaeus seethed and said things that seemed fairly out-of-character for them. Their words were so atypical, you find your brain reminding you of the anti-vampire box. And of the journal you have yet to thumb through, which may give you insight into Tabaeus.

Tomorrow, you decide, as you chew at a pizza crust. You'll look at it tomorrow, mid-day, when Tabaeus rests.

As you eat, you catch the sound of Tabaeus's footfalls as they head downstairs, to their own barely furnished room with its large refrigerator box acting as a coffin. The two of you were planning to go to a thrift store soon, in hopes of making the area feel more lived in. You're not sure when that will happen now.

You ignore the urge to follow after them, to apologize, to reassure them, to continue the conversation. How can you reassure them when you have, once again, had your own reality turned upside down?

You are going to finish your food, you decide, then head upstairs to bed. Perhaps a solid floor between you and your vampire friend will do the both of you some good.

It will give you the space you need, as you navigate new revelations.

[littlespoonevan]

Buddie with k?

Anonymous asked: If you're still taking prompts, how about Catastrophize by Noah Kahan or Welly Boots by The Amazing Devil?

I decided to combine the two of these because K. On the edge of consciousness + the lyrics "While we sit and wait for time // To change our luck // And open up those blinds // Oh, don't you know // Don't you know that you're the last thing on my mind" and the 5x16 spoilers had me thinking Thoughts 👀

spoilers/speculation for the Event in s5 but also my ability to predict things began and ended with the blackout lmao

-

When the fire starts in the dispatch centre Eddie gets the distinct impression that the universe is mocking him.

Or at the very least, laughing at him.

Even so, after the first five seconds of panic he can feel himself slipping back into the old version of himself – calm, controlled, competent. Even his uniform suddenly feels like it fits him better.

Old habits and years of training have him out of his seat, directing everyone on his floor towards the back exit away from the smoke – they’re all first responders, they all know the protocol, but it’s different reciting it over the phone versus being the one in the situation yourself.

One of the women on his floor – the retired captain of the 132 – is on her radio, no doubt contacting the nearest station and she gives Eddie a nod as he jogs past her.

There are a few of them in this particular dispatch centre that used to be firefighters – some who retired early, others who had to tap out because of an injury – but he’s the one with the most up to date training.

So he does what he’d do if he was wearing turnouts right now instead of his uniform shirt – he pulls the fire extinguisher off the wall and searches the floor to get people out before moving onto the next floor to do the same.

It only takes a few minutes before he’s bumping into the 118 and there’s an oddly sour feeling in his gut when Hen grips his arm and tells him to head outside. “We’ve got it from here,” she assures him and he gets it. He’s been in here inhaling smoke for however long with nothing more than the dampened collar of his shirt to cover his mouth and nose, he’s not in turnouts, and he’s pretty sure the place has been more or less evacuated now anyway.

He doesn’t like it though. And he gets the vague feeling that this is how Buck must’ve felt back before he’d filed the lawsuit. But Eddie was the one who chose to quit; he doesn’t have the right to complain now.

The minute he steps out through the exit one of the 133’s paramedics is bustling him towards the back of an ambulance to get checked out. He sits through the examination, takes a few puffs of an oxygen mask, and is thankfully dismissed before he has to start getting pissy. He finds Bobby out in front of the 118’s ladder truck, surveying the building and periodically checking in on the teams through his radio.

“Hey Cap,” he greets hoarsely.

Bobby tears his eyes away from the building, startling before he grabs hold of Eddie’s shoulder. “Hey. Are you okay? Have you been checked out-?”

“I’m all good,” he assures him. “Know what the cause is yet?”

Bobby shakes his head, concern etched into the line of his mouth. It’s never good when they don’t know what kind of fire they’re up against.

“Second floor’s all clear, Cap,” Chimney’s voice comes through the radio.

Bobby clicks on his radio, “Okay just-“

His words are cut off by an explosion that rocks the western side of the building, black plumes of smoke billowing into the sky. Eddie flinches back, shielding his eyes, and Bobby has barely regained his footing when he’s dragging his radio up to his mouth again. “Captain Nash to 118, calling for immediate evacuation. Building is compromised – get out now.”

Eddie stands beside him, paralysed, hands balled into fists as he keeps his eyes trained on the doorway that’s somehow still intact.

He listens to the chorus of ‘Copy’s and tries not to panic when he doesn’t hear Buck’s voice among them.

Slowly but surely, firefighters begin pouring out of the building and Eddie studies them all but none of them are his- none of them are Buck.

It’s when Hen and Chimney reach them that he loses the last shred of his patience. “Where’s Buck?” he demands and he doesn’t know if the tremor in his voice is frustration or terror or both.

Hen looks confused, wiping at her brow with the sleeve of her turnout and craning her neck to look behind them. “I don’t know; I think he was on the third floor.”

My floor, Eddie thinks, dread settling in his stomach. “He was looking for me,” he says, mostly to himself until he notices the grim look shared between Hen and Chimney. “He was- I have to go in there.”

He’s hardly taken a step when Bobby’s strong grip is pushing him back. “Eddie, you can’t. You’re not wearing proper gear and the building isn’t secure.”

“I don’t care, he was- Bobby, it’s Buck.”

Bobby’s expression tightens. “I know.” He sighs, looking from Hen to Chimney then back to Eddie. “Just- wait a second.” Then, releasing Eddie’s shoulder he reaches for his radio. “Firefighter Buckley, do you copy?”

Silence.

“Firefighter Buckley, this is your captain speaking. Do you copy?”

Eddie shakes his head. He doesn’t have time for this. Without giving Bobby a chance to grab hold of him again, he makes for the truck, grabbing the first turnout coat and helmet he can find.

He’ll get Buck back himself.

-

It’s almost impossible to see through the smoke once Eddie’s back inside. Only his knowledge of working at dispatch these past couple of months has him moving as quickly as he is.

When he reaches the third floor he calls out for Buck, pushing his way through falling debris.

The heat of the fire, the weight of the oxygen tank Hen had wordlessly offered him – it’s almost too familiar. It still feels wrong though without Buck by his side.

Finally, after what feels like far too long, he catches sight of something near what he’s pretty sure are the remains of his desk.

“Buck!” he shouts, weaving his way through the room and avoiding the flames as best he can. “Buck!”

Buck is on the floor, mask cracked and helmet askew but undoubtedly alive.

“Buck!” he calls again, dropping to his knees and jostling Buck’s shoulders in an attempt to rouse him. “Hey, can you hear me?”

There’s nothing for a beat and then Buck lets out a low groan, brow furrowing as he slowly squints his eyes open. “Eddie?” he slurs.

“Yeah,” Eddie replies, letting out a harsh breath. “What the hell were you doing up here on your own?”

Buck coughs, offering him a barely visible smile through the mask. “Was lookin’ f’r my partner,” he mumbles and Eddie’s heart squeezes painfully in his chest.

“So was I,” he says, letting out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here. Can you move?”

Buck frowns as he does a quick self-assessment, nodding uncertainly after a moment. And Eddie wants to be careful but he’s not sure how much time they have left so he puts his hands under Buck’s arms and attempts to haul him upright. Buck helps as best he can, gripping Eddie’s hands tightly and using them to push himself into a standing position.

Eddie allows himself half a heartbeat to stare at him, to confirm to himself Buck really is okay, and then he’s slinging Buck’s arm over his shoulder and wrapping his own securely around Buck’s waist.

It’s time to go.

-

Chimney and Hen are waiting at the door when they make it out, a stretcher already lined up to ease Buck onto. Eddie rushes along behind them, shucking off his mask and oxygen tank. He almost doesn’t stop to thank the firefighter who takes it from him until he realises it’s Bobby.

“Look, you can yell at me later-“

“I’m not going to yell,” Bobby interrupts and he looks tired – the lines around his eyes are more pronounced like they tend to get when he’s worried. But he’s almost smiling beneath it all. “So long as there’s a message on my answering machine when I get back to the station telling me you want to be reinstated.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, surprised that the words don’t elicit the kind of panic in him they would’ve a few weeks ago. “I’ve gotta get to the hospital first,” he says, nodding to where Hen and Chimney are loading Buck into the back of their ambulance. “But after that- maybe we could talk?”

Bobby gives him a knowing smile, clapping him on the shoulder. “Take care of him for me.”

Eddie nods, only lingering long enough to say, “Thanks, Cap,” before he’s hurrying after Hen and Chim.

“He was asking for you,” Chim says as soon as he climbs into the back of the ambulance.

Eddie reaches for Buck, taking his hand between both of his own and squeezing gently. “Hey, hotshot. You still with me?”

“Eddie?” Buck breathes, tugging at his oxygen mask with his free hand. “Thought I hallucinated you.”

Eddie grins, even as tears prick at the corner of his eyes. “As if I’d let anyone else save you but me.”

Buck’s smile is wide and blinding, and only wobbles when it’s cut off with a cough. “Thanks,” he hums, eyes heavy-lidded. “Missed you, y’know?”

“Missed you too,” he replies, the words half-muffled where he presses his mouth against their joined hands.

“As sweet as this is, you need to keep this on,” Chimney cuts in, firmly placing the oxygen mask back down over Buck’s nose and mouth.

Buck rolls his eyes but when he looks back to Eddie there’s nothing but affection. “Stay?” he requests. It’s garbled through the mask but Eddie understands it anyway.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m staying.”

~

[owo-shenanigans]

Can I request a genshin yandere scenario with Jean, Amber, and Eula with a reader who escaped and doesn't find them until a while later (5-6 months maybe) and how would they react to finding them again? and with a neutral reader to

Babes all my readers are gender ambiguous, dw. Anyway LOVE this prompt ty. I stayed up so late trying to finish this oh my god

Yandere Jean, Amber and Eula tracking down an escaped reader

(CWs ; kidnapping, re-abduction, mentions of chloroform in Eula, general yandere stuff y'all know)

Jean

She hadn’t noticed that you’d left until Barbara tentatively asked if you and she had had a fight.

Jean is too busy to even go home, some nights, and you’d planned your escape right when the citizens of Mondstat would be asking for the most help.

When she learned that you were missing, she tore up your rooms looking for anything, any clue that could tell her where you went.

And she finds it. A flier for a ship to Inazuma, asking for deckhands, no questions asked. She doesn’t know how you got it- you weren’t allowed to leave the house without her, let alone roam the city.

Even as the Acting Grand Master, she can’t put everyone at work to find you, if only because that would cause some awkward questions.

But she can do some work that benefits the city and herself. It’s the right of those who lead, is it not?

Six months later, Jean has worked through dozens of pages of legal paperwork to set up a brand new trade route between Mondstat and Inazuma. Quite impressive, considering Inazuma had shut itself off from every other country 9 months before.

And of course, a meeting between the Acting Grand Master and the Raiden Shogun to celebrate would not be amiss.

It’s only a matter of pure luck that she finds you so fast- if you have such a distinctive signature dessert, perhaps working directly under the Raiden Shogun wasn’t the brightest idea. Or perhaps you thought that said God would provide you safety.

It didn't, of course. Nothing short of death could tear you from her grasp. She would have manufactured reasons to stay in Inazuma for months to find you.

You’re going back to Mondstat with her. No matter what you think.

Amber

I see Amber as being extremely delusional. She never thought she pressured you into dating and then moving in- her, shall we say, selective memory, only remembers your agreement, not the days she spent guilt tripping you into saying yes.

So when Eula tells her that she spotted you in Qingce village, she’s ecstatic. You must have been so scared, being so far from home! You’ve been so lost, and all the awful villagers wouldn’t help you get home!

She wouldn’t do anything to the villagers, of course- while they’re jerks for not helping you, she’s an outrider- she takes care of everyone, even for people who might not deserve it.

Even if you flat out tell her that you want to break up with you, she’ll assume you’re feeling sick. You two are destined to be together- you’re soulmates! She’ll fix you some of her special soup and you’ll be right as rain in no time!

Once you’re back in Mondstat where you belong (with her!), she’ll tell everyone that you’ve been feeling off and if you’re too close to the city limits to please stop you. Considering Amber is such a helpful person to most people, they’re glad to help her out, especially if it’s because you have an illness affecting your reasoning skills so badly.

Eula

She didn’t believe that she deserved you, but she also knew that the rest of the world didn’t deserve you either. You were an angel. You were a breath of pure white snow in a world of dark sin. She had to keep you safe.

So when you managed to escape from her safehouse for you, she was in hysterics. You could die out there, you could be hurt, other people might use you for their own nefarious schemes-

So when Amber tells her about a letter from the traveller describing their new friend that shares many similarities with you, Eula goes to Jean and requests three months of vacation. She goes home, packs, and makes her way to Fontaine, where the letter was from.

And there she puts her tracking skills to use. While her job description doesn’t say so, she gets a lot of tracking work in on the job. So in a city with so many people but so few that look like you, finding out what hovel you’ve managed to make a home in is a matter of a short week.

She embraces you the moment she sees you, telling you how worried she was and how dangerous it is for you out here.

If your reaction is… Less than positive, she was prepared for that. She’s always prepared. Chloroform is a nasty thing, but a little nap is much safer for you than a struggle.

Don’t worry- she’ll pack up everything you had in your little hideaway and bring it with her when she takes you home. She doesn’t want you unhappy- but she can’t stand you being unsafe.

[heartensoul]

[Ficlet] I Need Help, [KakaSaku, T]

Summary: Kakashi enlists Sakura's help in solving a mystery.

Prompts: I need help + those NSFW figurines of Kakashi that have been floating around Twitter.

------

There was something strange going on in the village, and Kakashi deduced it had to do with him. The office had been blissfully quiet all morning, the usual traffic from his staff nowhere to be found. At first it had been a welcome relief; however, by the time he went out for some lunch, it became an annoyance. He had never seen so many people scurry away from him, and those that didn’t outright flee avoided his gaze. A few women turned an interesting shade of red that left him perplexed and checking to see if he had an unfortunate rip in his clothes.

The answer to what was up was alluding him. That is, until the afternoon rolled around.

He was back in his office, ability to work diminished even more than usual with this mystery at hand, when the distinctive shout of one of his former students rang out from outside of his office. Intrigued, he abandoned the piles of work surrounding him and peered out into the corridor where he could get a better sense for what was happening.

“You are all supposed to be professionals,” Sakura was yelling at someone, and the pitch of her voice spoke of a woman on the edge of violence.

Kakashi didn’t want to be short-staffed the rest of the week, so he took the chance to go and intervene. Hopefully whatever had Sakura angry didn’t have to do with him.

He strolled down the hallway and toward the row of offices and cubicles where the rest of the Tower staff did their work, and he could see Sakura’s back toward him, her hands on her hips as she stood berating a small group of his staff.

“It’s a personal matter. You should be ashamed of yourselves!” She carried on, oblivious to his arrival. The rest of the group had the benefit of seeing his approach, and their eyes shifted from her to him. They seemed to believe his arrival would save them, because they hurried away from Sakura’s wrath and back to their own spaces.

Kakashi cleared his throat.

“If one more person asks me about—“ Sakura began to threaten, her finger poised to point at her next victim. However, when she saw him standing there, her hand dropped and a blush bloomed across her face.

Kakashi tilted his head; that was a new response. “Asks you about what, Sakura-chan?”

The blush along her cheeks rose to the roots of her hair and her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.

“Um, I need to—“ Her gaze shifted away from him and around the room, and Kakashi frowned, quite tired of that response from everyone. He was determined to get to the bottom of whatever this was, and Sakura was going to be the one to help him.

“I’m glad you’re here, Sakura. I need your help with an important matter.” He smiled innocently at her. “Please come into my office.”

And then he turned around and began to walk back toward the Hokage office, sure that Sakura wouldn’t disobey and would be right behind him. And sure enough, when he turned around and leaned against the edge of his desk, she had closed the door and was waiting patiently for him to begin.

Except she was also fidgeting in discomfort and looking at the floor, allowing strands of her hair to cover her reddening face.

“What’s going on?” He asked, crossing his arms across his chest. “Today everyone I encounter either avoids me completely or does their best impression of a tomato. Including you.”

“Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura squeaked, “I think you may want to ask—“

“I’m asking you,” he interrupted. “Please, Sakura. We’re—“ he paused; “friends” didn’t encompass their bond, especially after the war, and teammates didn’t fit anymore either. “I trust you to tell me if something’s wrong,” he settled on.

He must have said the right thing, because Sakura sighed in resignation. He waited while she stood in silence a bit longer, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and still looking about the room.

“There’s a website that puts out figurines of popular and famous shinobi. They posted some pictures of your figurine last night,” she finally told him.

He tried his best to school his expression: was that what all this fuss was about?

“Did it turn out badly?” He asked, already moving around to the other side of his desk to open his computer. He didn’t like when the merchandise made with his likeness, but he understood it came with the job. He had found a few figurines of his pack in the past, but this was the first time he heard of a figure of him.

“Not exactly,” he heard Sakura murmur, but his focus was on his screen by then. He did a search of his name and figurine, and it came up immediately. He sat back in his chair in disbelief.

Well.

He cleared his throat, managing to take his eyes off of the picture of his likeness, very naked, chained, and kneeling in front of—was that a dog bowl?—with dogs flanking him on either side.

“I see,” he managed, his concern shifting to Sakura. He wondered how embarrassed she was about the whole thing. “You’ve been asked about this because we were teammates?”

“Because I’m your medic,” she corrected, and she finally lifted her face and peeked up at him. The redness in her face was beginning to subside, though the cute dusting along her cheeks remained. He wondered if he had matching coloring along the top of his mask.

“Well, you can tell everyone this is inaccurate,” he assured her. Concern seemed to bloom across her face and she almost looked as though she was going to protest. He smiled, hoping to ease some of the awkwardness. “I don’t have that breed of dog in my pack.”

Her surprised laughter rang throughout the room and settled in his chest, and then they shared a smile. It seemed no damage had been done.

But suddenly, a thought came to his mind.

“Did someone show this to you, or did you look it up yourself?” He asked, leaning forward in his chair to scrutinize her overly-innocent expression.

“I really need to go,” she hedged, and spun around to face the door. “I have a surgery. Bye, Kakashi-sensei!”

And with a wave and a quick exit, Sakura was gone.

-----

Bonus:

A few days later, Kakashi received a note with Sakura's flowing handwriting:

"My records show you're overdue for your physical. - 🌸"

Kakashi grinned, then tucked the note in his vest pocket.

[space-blue]

Kenobi Episode VI fix-it concept

Exact same characters and plot beats, a few tweaks and massive changes to editing and timeline... A more structured attempt at the final episode of Kenobi.

----

The episode opens with the Star Destroyer chasing the rebels' ship.

Aboard, Obi-Wan has a serious conversation with Roken and Haja about what he's offering to do, and asking in return. Leia interrupts them and catches on to his plans and gets upset. Obi-Wan doesn't have to justify himself (to a ship full of people who know him to be their only real fighter), but people do look askance as Leia runs off across the ship. The mood is heavy.

Obi-Wan goes to prepare and set up the small ship, and Haja talks Leia into thinking better of her pouting. Obi-Wan seeks her out, offers the blaster holster. Leia can sneak Lola or she can outright offer it to him. I like that option, because in canon Obi-Wan smiles at Lola and then flat out ignores her and puts her up like a dash decoration. We know he doesn't care for droids, so him seeing Leia's gesture, accepting Lola, and making the promise to do his best to return her, would also be a way to show how willing he is to pacify Leia.

When Obi-Wan talks to QGJ, it is to ask for guidance, and apologizes for what he's about to attempt, and nothing more.

Obi-Wan comes out flying, and Vader prompts his captain to follow him. The grand Inquisitor makes a fuss, demands they stay focused on the rebel ship. This has given Obi-Wan time to get close to them, instead of away.

An officer shouts out a warning as Obi-Wan fires on the Star Destroyer. We see a shot reminiscent of the opening to ROTS, with Obi-Wan demonstrating some incredible flying, weaving around the laser fire.

For comedic relief we can have an officer behind Vader be like "Damn" (impressed) and his neighbour (who has clearly seen colleagues die fore less before) be like (❍ᴥ❍ʋ)

Meanwhile in Obi-Wan's cockpit, Lola is having a very stressful experience, shrieking as she tumbles to and fro until Obi-Wan snatches her out of the air and slaps her firmly on the dash. She could spew a stream of binary obscenities, leading Obi-Wan to frown and ask is she talks around Leia that way. (although that's borderline too funny for this show lol)

The Grand Middle Manager wants to send TIEs after him, but Vader counters that he's going out in his own ship. In the background, the rebels go into hyperspace. Dead silence on the bridge as Vader stalks out and the GI stares balefully into empty space.

Vader gives chase to Obi-Wan, who has enough advance to avoid a full on dog fight, and manages to land on the planet. He gets there a mere couple minutes before Vader, and their ships are parked next to each other.

They face off on [whatever world that was supposed to be].

Instead of throwing rocks at each other, there's a lot of Force play. Them pulling and pushing each others limbs, focusing on the Force more than usual. After distracting him with a rock, Vader manages to grab Obi-Wan in a Force-choke hold. He marches up to him, determined to impale him on his saber, nose to nose.

This is personal. It has to hurt. You have the distinctive fear that Vader will start with chopping off limbs, actually. He raises his blade to strike.

He's so focused on his revenge, he has not been paying attention to Obi-Wan's hands, which are empty. His saber is on the ground. With Vader close, Obi-Wan flicks a finger and his saber ignites and flies up, slashing across Vader's chest-plate and helmet.

He lets go of Obi-Wan, choking, falling with both hands to the floor.

They talk then. The conversation is the same, except Obi-Wan is so emotional and wrapped into the horror of Anakin's blood curdling rage, that he doesn't react in time when Vader shatters the ground under him.

Vader is shaking and screaming as he throws more rocks into the open pit.

When it's done he stumbles back, clearly too breathless for pithy remarks. He hurries off to his ship with a halting step. It's clear this is a strategical retreat, no matter if Obi-Wan is still alive under the rocks.

Cut to Obi-Wan, chilling. He's not particularly strained, but alert. Maybe he can murmur something to QGJ again, head falling back, looking dismayed... A whimpery little "I'm sorry, I don't think I can..." It's clear he's biding his time, waiting for Vader to fuck off before crawling out.

A sudden vision wracks him. Owen is screaming for Beru, Beru screaming for Luke, and Luke running in the dark, panting hard, a shadow darker than night itself chasing him with the same halting step as Vader's. With the cape and the haircut, in this darkness, Reva is indistinguishable from him.

Obi-Wan opens his eyes, shaken, whispers Luke's name, and with firm resolve frees himself from the rocks and comes leaping out. We follow him as he races up to Vader, who is still between Obi-Wan and his ship. It's unclear if Obi-Wan thinks the vision showed him Vader or Reva.

Vader whips around, a total mess, a hint of fear in his half-hidden expression and his fumbling movements. This duel is much shorter. Vader seems like he might overpower Obi-Wan, but in a moment the man sidesteps him, steals his saber (in a move that harks back to the flashback training) and slices it in half. Vader roars, furious. He's wounded, down to his knees, without a weapon, and still Obi-Wan is forced to back off as rocks come flying his way.

Vader remains too powerful. This isn't a short or easy fight, and Obi-Wan has no time. He says he's sorry one last time, and turns around and books it. Vader yells after him.

As Obi-Wan is taking off, he's clearly nervous. He asks Lola if she's got astromech capabilities. She bleeps a negative and he frowns, saying that he needs the best route to Tatooine from here and she can try and do her best. She trills and logs into the console. A screen beeps, signaling Obi-Wan that the Imperial Destroyer is in on him. He asks Lola for an update, she replies something testy (probably along the lines of "As I was saying, I'm *not* and astromech, so bear with me")

The screen goes beep beep beep beep beep beep. Obi glances at his console. On the screen, the triangle of the Star Destroyer is hemorrhaging smaller dots.

'Lola?' he asks, pressing and tense.

Just as TIEs come scream overhead, Lola blurts something, and Obi-Wan punches the hyperdrive mid-evasive maneuver.

He lets out a heavy sigh once in the safety of hyperspace. He pats Lola, says he's grateful Leia trusted him with her. He leans back, closes his eyes, and tries to reach out to Luke. All he can see is a dark figure looming, cutting over a bright background of stars. There are three moons in the sky. It looks like a dream.

Obi-Wan frowns and grunts and focuses harder. He sees Luke's face bathed in red light, and nothing more. When he focuses again, he hears a peal of laughter, sees Leia playing with a small child, sees her resting her head down on Haja's shoulder. Clearly, she's safe, and Luke isn't. Clearly, Obi-Wan has a connection to each of them through the Force, and not just an alarm system for Luke.

The effort seems to have completely exhausted him and he slouches in his seat.

This is where things are tricky. But in the end I'm happy with my choice :

Cut to Tatooine. Owen and Luke are walking into town, chatting. They get into the shop, talk about shot speeder belts, and the man comes to warn Owen. The conversation isn't cut. The man says the inquisitor from last time has returned, the same who threatened Owen directly. He says she was asking after him, and seems to be alone and wounded. Owen, deeply concerned, grabs Luke and books it back to the farm.

Beru says they have to prepare. She asks Owen if he knows how far she is. He says he hasn't seen her on the way, but she knows where to find them. Beru replies "If she's half smart, she'll wait for the cover of darkness".

Owen replies this leaves them time to fetch help, to which Beru counters she won't imply anyone else and they have to do this alone.

The conversation with Luke about safety and escaping is a little longer, with Luke protesting that he wants to help, that this is his home and he should get to defend it too.

Beru says, "We know, Luke, we know.'

Owen says, "We all have our roles. Ours is to protect our home and you, and your role is to help—by keeping yourself safe."

Beru nods and adds, "You'll be helping us, that way. You remember, if you have to get out, you run."

Luke nods and promises, and the Reva home invasion begins. The only difference is that Reva battles Beru longer. It's clear she doesn't want to harm her, but eventually loses patience and slices her arm (a flesh wound).

Reva disappears after Luke, shuffling as fast as she can.

Cut back to Obi-Wan entering the system and flying down. When he lands on the dark farm, Beru and Owen, both wounded, are supporting each other and coming out of the house. They beeline for him, and as he comes out of the ship, everyone talks over everyone else.

Obi is asking if they're all right, what happened and where is Luke.

Owen is accusing him, asking if he's led the inquisitor back here to them.

Beru is saying "she's gone after him, we don't know where, we told him to run."

Finally Owen asks clearly "Why are you here?"

Obi-Wan looks almost lost for a moment. He explains he had a vision, thought that Luke was in danger and rushed back.

Owen sighs and visibly deflates, presumably touched that Obi-Wan means it so much, when he says he wants to help with Luke. That he cares.

The conversation turns technical. No, their speeder is broken, and anyway they have no idea where Luke went. Obi raises his hands for silence then and focuses, as if listening to the wind. He turns in the correct direction, says "Over there," and starts *sprinting*

It's made abundantly clear as Owen and Beru hurry after him that even exhausted, Obi-Wan can outpace them stupidly easily. This is the general in rescue mission mode.

Cut to the canyon. Obi-Wan comes jogging in, breathing hard, and just ahead is Luke, sprawled on the ground like in his vision, Reva standing over him, saber ignited.

It's just the two of them, as Obi-Wan left the others to catch up. Reva looks agitated. Tears are already streaking down her face.

"I knew you'd come," she says. "I knew it. " It sounds accusatory. "Who is he?" she ask, pointing to Luke with her saber. "Why is he so important to you, to Organa?"

Obi gives her a pained look, full of emotion, but then tips his head to the side and asks "Does it matter? He's just a child."

Reva is even more agitated by this question. She makes vague guesses, half formed accusations, and increasingly distressed accounts of how she "couldn't do it" and didn't manage to kill Vader.

Obi-Wan steps closer, hands open, trying to placate her. He says "I couldn't either. I tried, but I couldn't."

This gives Reva pause. Her breathing calms down a little. You see her think. Maybe, she realises that if Kenobi, one of the Order's greatest living Jedi and hero of the clone wars, couldn't take Vader down, not even knowing him from childhood, then maybe she never had a shot at all. She isn't blind to the fact she's half baked as a Force user, poorly trained. If she had any doubts about that, her own duel with Vader would have clarified things.

Though she's still hovering over Luke (now moaning and shifting), Reva's attention is inward. She says something about how she failed them. All her crechemates who died in front of her. When Obi-Wan tries to tell her she didn't, because she's tried— Reva interrupts him.

"You don't understand," she says. "You don't understand how many Jedi and Force sensitives I helped track down, I killed, just to survive as an inquisitor. To get close to him."

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "You can come back. You don't have to fall the way he did. You tried to honour them (her crechemates), you can't do that by killing an innocent." He waves to Luke as he says this. Reva looks down at him, seemingly dazed, like she forgot he was there at all. She sees herself looming there, a flash of Vader taking her form. Luke becomes her, she becomes Anakin. The vision hits her hard.

Right then Owen and Beru come rushing in, yelling for her to get back, blasters pointed but unfired. Beru covers Owen's back as he hurries forward to pick Luke up. Reva stumbles back and collapses, her wounds catching up with her. Beru gives Obi-Wan a wide-eyed look as Owen returns with Luke in his arms, and he nods to her. She nods back and runs off after Owen, leaving them to Jedi business.

Obi-Wan goes to kneel by Reva's side. She's crying, clutching her belly. She looks up at him, looking terrified as she asks, "Have I become him?"

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "No... No. You were made into this, and Anakin, he..."

He has no words, and no words are needed. [Ewan McGregor can act his heart out]

"What do I do?" Reva asks. She lets her saber drop in the sand.

"You're free now," Obi-Wan replies. "There are ways you can repay/repent[can't think of a better phrasing just now] for the harm you've done. Ways to honour the people you've lost, better than through revenge."

Reva smiles bitterly through her tears. "No rebel cell would have me."

Obi-Wan gives her a small half shrug and a sorry smile. "Freedom is a heavy burden. You have to find your own way."

He gives her a hand and helps her to her feet. "I don't even— I-I crashed the wreck I came in with," she says, as if in afterthought.

Obi-Wan snorts and says he's conveniently got a ship he has no use for.

Cut to the starry sky. A blue dot moves, growing distant. Obi-Wan comes into frame, looking up at what we presume is Reva getting away on his ship. The camera pans down when he looks away. He's at the entrance of his cave. Dawn is coming. He goes in.

Cut to angry Vader, the scene is the same, except we play a mournful Padme/Anakin theme in the end (and this isn't the first and only time you hear the blasted Imperial March).

Cut to Alderaan. The scene remains the same, except Leia is happy to see Obi-Wan and Lola both. Bail says, "We would ask you to stay a while, but—"

Obi-Wan waves him off and says something placating. He understands, they're best not seen together much. Breha insist that they can find ways to meet more often, and that Leia spoke much of him and will miss him.

His conversation with Leia is the same, except he may phrase it differently, so as to not imply that the qualities he lists are Nature and not Nurture. "Even though you are raised an Organa, you have the same XYZ as you mother, and ZXY as your father..." or something.

They say their farewells, and it cuts to Obi-Wan back on Tatooine packing his meager belonging, saddling up. He makes his way to the Lars homestead. He's wearing his hood because the sun is hot on Tatooine, god dammit!

The conversation with Owen remains the same. Taking the spaceship model, Obi-Wan approaches Luke with a smile and says, "Hello there. I'm Ben."

Luke looks up at him. He looks tired and a little wary, but he gives Obi-Wan a brave smile. "Hi Ben, I'm Luke."

Obi-Wan gives a small knowing nod and a smile. "It's nice to meet you, Luke."

Cut to Obi-Wan riding his eopie. A blue haze comes into resolution. Long dead master Qui-Gon Jinn turns around, arms akimbo.

"Hello there!" he says.

"You can't say that!" Obi-Wan scoffs, "That's my catchphrase!"

yeah yeah yeah I'm joking, whatever, I'm not a big fan of QGJ, or the prospect of Obi-Wan spending the next 8 years as a hermit with him for sole company. Not when QGJ tried to ditch him for Anakin, then foisted Anakin on him, and we all know how that ended. To be a fly on the wall of that conversation...

Anyway, sure, the ending can be QGJ being a smartass.

The end.

[writemyaceattorneys]

hey hey franziska anon from turnaboutyandere here 👀 so excited for this blog! i feel obligated to request for some general franziska and edgeworth headcanons please ✨

Of course Franziska Anon!!!! I’m glad that you have obliged me to talk about my favourite trilogy prosecutors, husband Miles and wife Franziska are absolutely fabulous angels.

I hope that you like these headcanons. I’m also really excited for this blog and I can’t wait to get into running it .

Spoilers: Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney - Trilogy

TW: Franziska’s whip

💎Franziska von Karma💎

💎 Relationships are a concept that are very alien to Franziska. From a young age she was taught to only seek perfection in her career, that trivial feelings such as love should always come second or not come at all.

💎 Because of this, she soon came to realise that she was very unprepared for the sudden deluge of emotion that struck her after interacting with S/O a few times.

💎 She would probably be very angry with S/O at first. How dare this foolish fool just waltz on into her life and make her feel all of these feelings and just be so oblivious to their effect on her. S/O would be on the brunt end of Franziska’s wrath (namely her whip) during this time period.

💎 It would absolutely get to the point where everyone around Franziska and S/O would realise what’s going on. Getting Franziska to confess to S/O would be nigh on impossible because of her stubbornness so it would be up to S/O to confess to Franziska first, if of course, they felt the same way.

💎 Good news! They do, (although, they had been getting the distinct feeling that Franziska didn’t like them because every time they went to talk to her, they’d walk away with several whip lashes) so S/O plans to confess their feelings to Franziska

💎 Franziska would be in shock when S/O first confesses to her, as much as she had been wishing for this to happen it was still something that she would never expect could happen to her.

💎 In terms of affection, Franziska is still going to be very closed off at first. She doesn’t have much experience in terms of PDA or even private displays of affection so S/O is going to have to be initiating a lot of it. Over time, Franziska would probably clutch onto S/O’s hand if she was angry and would very much appreciate it if S/O rubbed her hand with their thumb.

💎 She would absolutely love to show her S/O off to her colleagues!! She’d bring them to fancy dinners, conferences or whatever else she was invited to as her plus one. She sees it as her own form of affection, while she isn’t 100% comfortable with initiating more personal affection yet, she will more than happily speak about her S/O if prompted (given that the person asking isn’t a foolish fool of course).

💎 If S/O were to learn some German in order to speak to her, she’d be so flattered and would probably blush, depending on how S/O decides to compliment her, she would absolutely get embarrassed.

“Hey Franziska! du siehst heute schön aus.”

“H-Hör auf mit dieser Torheit... aber danke, mein Sonnenschein.”

💎 All in all, Franziska is very grateful for S/O’s presence in her life and she hopes to one day be able to give back in tenfold the affection and support that S/O has given to her, until that day, however, she is more than happy to bask in the warmth that her S/O provides.

Translations from the text:

Du siehst heute schön aus. - You look beautiful today.

Hör auf mit dieser Torheit... aber danke, mein Sonnenschein - Stop this foolishness...but thank you, my Sunshine.

♟Miles Edgeworth♟

♟ Very similarly to Franziska, Miles is also very inexperienced when it comes to romantic relationships. He was more focused on making his mentor proud and didn’t really focus on anything to do with dating. Because of this, he is also very oblivious to how other people feel about him which means that even if he had feelings for S/O, he wouldn’t be the one to initiate a relationship.

♟ Any form of romance with Miles Edgeworth is going to be prime slow burn material. It’ll take him a good several months to even consider forming anything closer than a professional working relationship with S/O, before anything else he would come to appreciate and admire the hard work that S/O put into whatever they did.

♟ Again, S/O is probably going to have to be the one to confess how they feel to Miles and they are going to have to be very upfront about it to avoid a miscommunication. The confession would absolutely happen somewhere privately and once Miles realised that he wasn’t the only one with these strange feelings about the other, he’d feel absolutely relieved (although he’d be sure to hide it with a wry smile and his normal formal and cool manner of speaking).

♟ Miles is also someone who is very inexperienced with public and private displays of affection and the initiation of such acts will never fail to make him incredibly flustered. He might be a bit more put off by public affection and would seize up if S/O were to as much as hold his hand in public, let alone embrace him or kiss him. This is something that he’d work on over time so at some point, he’ll be more open to holding hands in public.

♟ Despite his inexperience, Miles would probably be the most comfortable with privately displayed affection, whether that be in his office when it's just the two of them or at either his or S/O’s home. He’d absolutely be down to hold hands while he works and if he was feeling particularly worn down, he might just pull his S/O into his arms while he sits and 2just lay his head against their thorax.

♟ It’s pretty much common knowledge within the fanbase that Edgeworth has a dog at this point, so a good way to spend time outside of work would be to go with Edgeworth while he walks his dog. Also bonus points if Edgeworth’s dog also likes S/O, animals are very perceptive and as far as Edgeworth is concerned, if his dog likes and trusts S/O then there’s a good chance that he can do the same.

EXTRA! bonus points here if during the walk, Miles’ dog keeps looping the lead around both Miles’ and S/O’s knees and they end up falling into each other.

♟ Routine affection is also very important to Miles, he’d make sure to have time set aside during the day to be receptive to affection and once he gets bold enough to initiate affection and romantic gestures himself, I can guarantee that there’d be at least half an hour that he’d take out of his day to just hold S/O in his arms.

♟ Miles is also one to show off, so S/O can fully expect to be brought to all of the fancy functions and conferences that Miles has to go to. He’d also take them along on all of his international excursions so if anything, S/O can expect to become a lot more well travelled. He’d take S/O to see all of the sites in whatever country he was visiting and he would absolutely take advantage of the fact that he probably knows several European languages to further impress S/O.

He would also teach S/O different languages so that they can communicate too.

♟ One thing that Miles would definitely be concerned about is his fans. He is no stranger for receiving bouquets of flowers and other lavish gifts from people who are no doubt trying to woo him. However, he wouldn’t stand for any slander against S/O and if these fangirls grew to be too much, he’d make it abundantly clear to both his fanbase and whoever checks his packages that he won’t be receiving anything else from those who only seek to interfere in his private life.

(Sorry Wendy Oldbag, I don’t think you’ll be getting your ‘Edgy-poo’ anytime soon)

♟ Miles would be fiercely protective of his S/O. If he thought for a moment that anything that he was about to get himself into was going to put S/O in danger, he’d try to keep them as far removed from it as possible. It would absolutely wreck him if S/O was hurt and even in a non-yandere situation he’d make it his mission to make sure that anyone who put S/O at risk was brought to justice.

[bringbackthebastard]

Bring Back the Bastard Daily Prompts

Hello, folks! I'm posting these two weeks before we begin our fest, on September 1st, to give folks some inspiration on what to write each day as we celebrate Severus Snape's pettiest, most dastardly moments. I specifically picked out moments Snaters always harp on, that Snapedom personally enjoys--from any moment with Trevor to bitching at Lupin at Sirius, to the moments that Lily turns away and Dumbledore's face flashes with disgust--sure, he's a bastard, but he's our bastard, and that's what we like about him. You don't want him? Good. We'll keep him. Here are 30 scene prompts for 30 days--it's a long list, pulled chronologically from all seven books, but I found that it reminded me of everything I love about this character. The moments where he's called deranged, the moments where he slips into all-caps, the ugliest moments of the soul. Hope yall enjoy. Excited to kick off the fest starting September 1st, and absolutely excited to see what Snapedom will do. Let's Bring Back the Bastard! The prompts are below the readmore.

Day 1: The Scar Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacheer with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes--and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead. "Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head. "What is it?" asked Percy. "N-nothing." The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look--a felling that he didn't like Harry at all. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy. "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to--everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Day 2: Bad Impressions Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name. "Ah, yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new--celebrity."

Day 3: Potions Class "Potter!" said Snape suddenly "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand shot into the air. "I don't know, sir," said Harry. Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut--fame clearly isn't everything."

Day 4: A Horrible Sight Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages. "Blasted thing," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?" Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but-- "POTTER!" Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Harry gulped. "I just wondered if I could have my book back." "GET OUT! OUT!"

Day 5: Maybe He's Ill "Hang on..." Harry muttered to Ron. "There's an empty chair at the staff table...Where's Snape?" Professor Severus Snape was Harry's least favorite teacher. Harry also happened to be Snape's least favorite student. Cruel, sarcastic, and disliked by everybody except the students from his own House (Slytherin), Snape taught Potions. "Maybe he's ill!" said Ron hopefully. "Maybe he's left," said Harry, "because he missed out on the Defense Against the Dark Arts job again!" "Or he might have been sacked!" said Ron enthusiastically. "I mean, everyone hates him--" "Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind them, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."

Day 6: Slytherin Takes the Field "But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "But I booked it!" "Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

Day 7: No Quidditch For You! "I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," he said. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest." "Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong." Dumbledore was giving Harry a searching look. His twinkling light-blue gaze made Harry feel as though he were being X-rayed. "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," he said firmly. Snape looked furious.

Day 8: Expelliarmus! "Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry--you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!" "Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Harry's ear. Snape's upper lip was curling. Harry wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at *him* like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them. "As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our fist spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course." "I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth. "One--two--three--" Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Day 9: Only Bite Him A Little Bit, Please "Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it..."

Day 10: Poisoning Trevor The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron. "Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned." The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat. There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small op, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm. The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown. "Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

Day 11: Insufferable Know-It-All Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air. "Anyone?" Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between--" "We told you," said Parvati suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on--" "Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..." "Please, sir," said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf--" "That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Fire more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Day 12: Your Saintly Father "I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter," he said, a terrible grin twisting his face. "Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you--your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't gotten cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts." Snape's uneven, yellowish teeth were bared.

Day 13: Don't Talk About What You Don't Understand "KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end o his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face. Hermione fell silent. "Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you..." "The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle" --he jerked his head at Ron-- "I'll come quietly...." "Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black...pleased enough to give you a little Kiss, I daresay...."

Day 14: A Great Disappointment "He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have let somebody in the room with him. When this gets out--" "HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE!" Snape roared, now very close at hand. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE *OR* DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS--HAS--SOMETHING--TO--DO--WITH--POTTER!" "Severus--be reasonable--Harry has been locked up--" BAM. The door of the hospital wing burst open. Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself. "OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" he bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" "Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Control yourself!" "See here, Snape, be reasonable," said Fudge. "This door's been locked, we just saw--" "THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth. "Calm down, man!" Fudge barked. "You're talking nonsense!" "YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" shrieked Snape. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT--" "That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the war ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?" "Of course not!" said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. "I would have heard them!" "Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further." Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behavior, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward. "Fellow seems quite unbalanced," said Fudge, staring after him. "I'd watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore." "Oh, he's not unbalanced," said Dumbledore quietly. "He's just suffered a severe disappointment."

Day 15: Haven't You Heard? "Blimey, haven' yeh heard?" said Hagrid, his smile fading a little. He lowered his voice, even though there was nobody in sight. "Er--Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'....Thought everyone'd know by now...Professor Lupin's a werewolf, see. An' he was loose on the grounds las' night...He's packin' now, o' course."

Day 16: I See No Difference "And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice. Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain." "Potter attacked me, sir--" "We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted. "--and he hit Goyle--look--" Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi. "Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly. "Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!" He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth--she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back. Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Day 17: The Dark Mark Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He struck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled. "There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eater to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Day 18: If You Are Ready...If You Are Prepared... "Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready...if you are prepared..." "I am," said Snape. He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely. "Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.

Day 19: Obviously "Now...how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard. "Fourteen years," Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable. His eyes on Snape, Harry added a few drops to his potion; it hissed menacingly and turned from turquoise to orange. "You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape. "Yes," said Snape quietly. "But you were unsuccessful?" Snape's lip curled. "Obviously." Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard. "And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?" "Yes," said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry. "Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" asked Umbridge. "I suggest you ask him," said Snape jerkily. "Oh I shall," said Professor Umbridge with a sweet smile. "I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed. "Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge. "Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers'--er--backgrounds...." She turned away, walked over to Pansy Parkinson, and began questioning her about the lessons. Snape looked around at Harry and their eyes met for a second. Harry hastily dropped his gaze to his potion, which was now congealing foully and giving off a strong smell of burned rubber. "No marks again, then, Potter," said Snape maliciously, emptying Harry's cauldron with a wave of his wand. "You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand?"

Day 20: Very Like His Father "How touching," Snape sneered. "But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?" Yes, I have," said Sirius proudly. "Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him," Snape said sleekly. Sirius pushed his chair roughly aside and strode around the table toward Snape, pulling out his wand as he went; Snape whipped out his own. They were squaring up to each other, Sirius looking livid, Snape calculating, his eyes darting from Sirius' wand-tip to his face. "Sirius!" said Harry loudly, but Sirius appeared not to hear him. "I've warned you, Snivellus," said Sirius, his face barely a foot from Snape's, "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better." "Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months very seriously?" "Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?" "Speaking of dogs," said Snape softly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognized you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform...gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in future, didn't it?" Sirius raised his wand. "NO!" Harry yelled, vaulting over the table and trying to get in between them, "Sirius, don't--" "Are you calling me a coward?" roared Sirius, trying to push Harry out of the way, but Harry would not budge. "Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape.

Day 21: Wormtail's Whine "We...we are alone, aren't we?" Narcissa asked quietly. "Yes, of course. Well, Wormtail's here, but we're not counting vermin, are we?" He pointed his wand at the wall of books behind him and with a bang, a hidden door flew open, revealing a narrow staircase upon which a small man stood frozen. "As you have clearly realized, Wormtail, we have guests," said Snape lazily. The man crept, hunchbacked, down the last few steps and moved into the room. He had small, watery eyes, a pointed nose, and wore an unpleasant simper. His left hand was caressing his right, which looked as though it was encased in a bright silver glove. "Narcissa!" he said, in a squeaky voice. "And Bellatrix! How charming--" "Wormtail will get us drinks, if you'd like them," said Snape. "And then he will return to his bedroom." Wormtail winced as though Snape had thrown something at him. "I am not your servant!" he squeaked, avoiding Snape's eyes. "Really? I was under the impression that the Dark Lord placed you here to assist me." "To assist, yes--but not to make you drinks and--clean your house!" "I had no idea, Wormtail, that you were craving more dangerous assignments," said Snape silkily. "This can be easily arranged: I shall speak to the Dark Lord--" "I can speak to him if I want to!" "Of course you can," said Snape, sneering. "But in the meantime, bring us drinks. Some of the elf-made wine will do."

Day 22: A Loving Caress Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view. "The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible." Harry stared at Snape. It was surely one thing to respect the Dark Arts as a dangerous enemy, another to speak of them, as Snape was doing, with a loving caress in his voice? "Your defenses," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures" --he indicated a few of them as he swept past-- "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" --he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony-- "feel the Dementor's Kiss" --a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall-- "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" --a bloody mass upon the ground.

Day 23: Better People "What does it matter?" said Malfoy. "Defense Against the Dark Arts--it's all just a joke, isn't it, an act? Like an of us need protecting against the Dark Arts--" "It is an act that is crucial to success, Draco!" said Snape. "Where do you think I would have been all these years, if I had not known how to act? Now listen to me! You are being incautious, wandering around at night, getting yourself caught, and if you are placing your reliance in assistants like Crabbe and Goyle--" "They're not the only ones, I've got other people on my side, better people!" "Then why not confide in me, and I can--" "I know what you're up to! You want to steal my glory!" There was another pause, then Snape said coldly, "You are speaking like a child. I quite understand that your father's capture and imprisonment has upset you, but--"

Day 24: Revulsion and Hatred Etched on His Face "Severus..." The sound frightened Harry beyond anything he had experienced all evening. For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading. Snape said nothing, but walked forward and pushed Malfoy roughly out of the way. The three Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even the werewolf seemed cowed. Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face. "Severus...please..." Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. "Avada Kedavra!"

Day 25: Don't Call Me Coward Mustering all his powers of concentration, Harry thought, Levi-- "No, Potter!" screamed Snape. There was a loud BANG and Harry was soaring backward, hitting the ground hard again, and this time his wand flew out of his hand. He could hear Hagrid yelling and Fang howling as Snape closed in and looked down on him where he lay, wandless and defenseless as Dumbledore had been. Snape's pale face, illuminated by the flaming cabin, was suffused with hatred just as it had been before he had cursed Dumbledore. "You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them--I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, woudl you? I don't think so...no!" Harry had dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight. "Kill me then," panted Harry, who felt no fear at all, but only rage and contempt. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward--" "DON'T--" screamed Snape, and his face was suddenly deranged, inhuman, as though he was in as much pain as the yelping, howling dog stuck in the burning house behind them-- "CALL ME COWARD!"

Day 26: The Guest Voldemort raised Lucius Malfoy's wand, pointed it directly at the slowing revolving figure suspended over the table, and gave it a tiny flick. The figure came to life with a groan and began to struggle against invisible bonds. "Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked Voldemort. Snape raised his eyes to the upside-down face. All of the Death Eaters were looking up at the captive now, as thought they had been given permission to show curiosity. As she revolved to face the firelight, the woman said in a cracked and terrified voice, "Severus! Help me!" "Ah, yes," said Snape as the prisoner turned slowly away again.

Day 27: I Regret It "All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," said Voldemort, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "wondering, wondering why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner...and I think I have the answer." Snape did not speak. "Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen." "My Lord--" "The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot be truly mine." "My Lord!" Snape protested, raising his wand. "It cannot be any other way," said Voldemort. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last." And Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a split second seemed to think he had been reprieved: But then Voldemort's intention became clear. The snake's cage was rolling through the air, and before Snape could do anything more than yell, it had encased him, head and shoulders, and Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue. "Kill." There was a terrible scream. Harry saw Snape's face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake's fangs pierced his neck, as he failed to push the enchanted cage off himself, as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor. "I regret it," said Voldemort coldly.

Day 28: You Hurt Her! "Tuney!" said Lily, surprise and welcome in her voice, but Snape had jumped to his feet. "Who's spying now?" he shouted. "What d'you want?" Petunia was breathless, alarmed at being caught. Harry could see her struggling for something hurtful to say. "What is that you're wearing, anyway?" she said, pointing at Snape's chest. "Your mum's blouse?" There was a *crack*. A branch over Petunia's head had fallen. Lily screamed: The branch caught Petunia on the shoulder, and she staggered backward and burst into tears. "Tuney!" But Petunia was running away. Lily rounded on Snape. "Did you make it happen?" "No." He looked both defiant and scared. "You did!" She was backing away from him. "You *did*! You hurt her!" "No--no I didn't!" But the lie did not convince Lily: After one last burning look, she ran from the little thicket, off after her sister, and Snape looked miserable and confused....

Day 29: Save Your Breath "I'm sorry." "I'm not interested." "I'm sorry!" "Save your breath." It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. "I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here." "I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just--" "Slipped out?" There was no pity in Lily's voice. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends--you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?" He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. "I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine." "No--listen, I didn't mean--" "--to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I any different?" He struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look she turned and climbed back through the portrait hole....

Day 30: Anything "If she means so much to you," said Dumbledore, "surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for the mother, in exchange for the son?" "I have--I have asked him--" "You disgust me," said Dumbledore, and Harry had never heard so much contempt in his voice. Snape seemed to drink a little. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?" Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore. "Hide them all, then," he croaked. "Keep her--them--safe. Please." "And what will you give me in return, Severus?" "In--in return?" Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Harry expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, "Anything."

[dawl-and-dapple]

rating: general word count: 1443

Essek and Jester being sweet, based on the non-sexual intimacy prompt 'escorting the other to a doctor/ therapist appointment' given by @mllekurtz

***

Can you drive me to the dentist next week pretty please?

It’s been almost a year since Essek had first been asked to give one of his friends a lift. The requests had slowed somewhat since Caleb finally got himself his own car two months ago, but he is not yet necessarily free from this particular duty. Now he receives a text asking to be driven out of town most often when Caleb is occupied with work, sick, or inebriated.

These texts used to make him wince. After some time they made him smile. These days, they tend to catch him a little off-guard.

Is Caleb not available? he responds.

No, Jester texts back, he’s got an appointment too. Are you gonna be busy?

No, I will be available. I’ll drive you.

Thank you!! I’ll meet you outside the school like usual!! Love you so much!!!!

Essek puts away his phone. He remembers where Jester’s dentist is from the last time she had him drive there. There’s a nice café two blocks away where he could wait out her appointment, reading and enjoying a cup of tea, before driving her home again. He puts his mind to picking out which book to bring.

Five days later, when Essek arrives in the small car park across from the art college, he’s twenty minutes early. He occupies himself by methodically checking his emails, texts, then social media.

Caleb has sent him a photo of Frumpkin playing with his television’s cables. Essek asks if he’s forgotten about his therapy appointment. Caleb responds with a photo taken through a windscreen of a city road, blocked with traffic as far as the eye can see, and a text reading, I wish I had.

Someone knocks on Essek’s window.

“Hey!” Jester’s nose presses up against the glass. “You got here early,” she says, muffled. “You should have let me know.”

“I am not going to encourage you to leave class early, Jester.” He opens the passenger door.

“Boo.” Jester flops into the seat and begins buckling herself in as Essek starts the engine. “We could have hung out a little! We’ve all been so busy since the summer and I miss you, you know. I wanna know how you’ve been! Do you wanna talk about work? Probably not. How about, um, how’s the new flat? I heard Caduceus helped you settle in.”

“I have been well,” Essek says as he pulls out of the car park. “You remember that miniature flower bed you helped me build on my windowsill? I have been growing a little basil plant there.”

“Oh! Have you used the leaves to make anything?”

Essek winces. Of the scant few recipes he could reliably prepare, most are from his home. He’d failed to find a Xhorhasian supermarket in the area after moving and had taken it as a strong sign to try working with what he’d been given. But his lack of experience cooking anything at all made adapting that much harder.

“The cooking part...I am working on that. I will be asking for Caduceus’ guidance again.”

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it,” Jester says airily while digging through the small collection of audiobooks and music discs in the door compartment. “How long have you had these? Caleb’s car doesn't even have a CD player. Oh, I bet Caleb could help!” She grins at his reflection in the internal mirror. “He can make some very tasty Zemnian meals, you know.”

“I do know. I believe I’ve eaten one or two prepared by him at a dinner party with the others.”

“You should ask him to teach you the recipes.”

“I might. What did you get up to today? Painting? Sculpting?”

Jester smirks. She answers him, goes on to talk about her current project (a ten-foot-tall collage of hundreds of vintage pinup photographs, though Essek cannot parse the meaning of it). Essek gets the distinct impression that she’s barely holding herself back from needling him more.

As they reach the edge of the city, the traffic slows. A heavy sense of doom overcomes Essek, while Jester flips through the radio channels.

Someone behind Essek honks. He grits his teeth.

“Oh, the traffic here is pretty bad, huh.”

Essek flexes his hands around the steering wheel. “Yes, it seems so.”

Jester turns the radio off. “Do you have to be anywhere after this?”

“No,” he replies. The car comes to a dead halt. “I do not.”

Jester bounces in her seat as if she might be able to peer over the roofs of the dozens of gridlocked cars ahead of them. “Oh man,” she says. “I’d get there faster if I walked.” She goes quiet. After a heartbeat she smiles and turns towards Essek. “Hey Essek? Do you have any sexy audiobooks?”

“What?”

“Like, do you have a CD in here of someone reading a porn book out loud.”

“No, why would I have–?”

“That’s okay, I can plug my phone into the dashboard.”

“Please, Jester.”

“Okay!” She laughs, tucking her phone back into her jacket pocket. “What CDs do you have? All the titles are in Undercommon...”

“Most are audio documentaries. There are two about special relativity, one about magnetism, and one on the life of a particular astrophysicist. There’s also a rock album in there somewhere; my brother gave it to me as a joke.”

Jester snorts.

“I am very boring, aren't I?”

“No!” Jester suddenly grabs his shoulder and shoves him around in his seat, which would have worried him were they moving at any velocity at all. “You’re not! Essek, you’re very fun and interesting.”

Essek smiles as he’s shaken from side to side, keeping his eyes on the traffic jam ahead. “I am very fun and interesting,” he repeats.

She finally stops shoving at his shoulder. “I should get you some new fun CDs for your car. I don’t even know where to buy CDs these days, but I'll get you some.”

“Can you promise there will be no more than one pornographic item in this collection?” he asks, raising his brow at Jester in the mirror.

“Oh, sure.”

“Then, as they say, go wild.”

“Neat. Hey! I know we’ve all been super busy lately but I bet we can do, like, a dinner party or something. Just one evening. Yasha got back into town this week and Veth says Luc has been spending most weekends at his friends’ houses so she can come over. Maybe a Saturday night?” She’s pulled out her phone already. “We can just hang out in my and Fjord’s flat for a while. Or yours!”

“I do not think I have enough space for nine.”

“But would you be free?”

He thinks. “Next weekend, yes.”

Jester pumps her fist in the air. “Awesome! I’ll text the others.”

The traffic moves ever so slightly. Essek watches the cars ahead of him like a cat watching a bird.

“Beau might be the busiest but I bet she’ll want to come. Oh, Caleb can cook something with Caduceus! One of those meals you liked.”

“Uh, maybe.”

“Maybe you can show him a recipe you know too. Try that sometime.”

“Hm.” The car in front finally budges. Essek inches forward.

“I bet he’d love that, Essek.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I know you don't think you’re a good cook, but I remember that rice meal you made when I came over last spring and it was good!”

Now they’re driving again, if at no more than five mph. Essek grips the wheel.

“Make that meal, put on a good movie, wear something cute — that black top with the long sleeves I think — and it’ll be smooth sailing. Trust me, Fjord was no match for the tried and true Lavorre Technique.”

“Hm.”

“And then maybe you can finally talk to him about your big fat crush on Cay-leb.”

The car directly ahead halts. Essek swears and steps on the brake. He stares at Jester. “Pardon?”

She just grins at him.

“I was not listening. Sorry.”

“Oh that’s okay,” she croons, “But guess what…”

Essek is familiar with this tone. It doesn't scare him as much as it used to; he’s developed somewhat of a pavlovian response to her mischief in spite of his initial displeasure. As her grin widens, Essek feels a mirrored anticipatory smile spread across his face.

“You’re stuck in here with me,” she sings, waving her index fingers side-to-side with each word, “and we’re stuck in here together, and I wanna know the truth. So…” She leans forward. “Don’t you like him?”

Essek, face hot, but still smiling, reaches for the radio fast enough to fumble the air conditioning.

[empressapprentice]

Arcana Headcanons: M3 + MC Who Beats Everyone at Chess

Hello friends! The lovely @firefly-child posted about a fun game called Request Roulette. They post a prompt, and anyone who wants to is free to fill it. The first prompt is: “How would the main 6 react to MC beating like every person that’s goes against them in chess but at the end they whisper to the LI that they actually have no idea how to play chess and just kept moving pieces till they won” and also includes the lovely line “hehe move pieces around make brain go brrrrrrrr.” I just had to do this. I’m going for a bastard version of The Queen’s Gambit here.

Housekeeping stuff: This is just the main 3, although I have some ideas for the other characters and will be posting soon. I also wanted to break the posts up because despite this being incredibly silly, it still managed to be super long (oh well!). Also warning for some horniness in Julian’s, but nothing worse than what you see in game (couldn’t resist hehe). The good stuff is under the cut :)

Asra:

You and Asra don’t tend to play board games together, favoring card games that utilize his Tarot deck. So despite him knowing you so well, he doesn’t realize you have absolutely no clue how to play chess.

Asra learned to play during one of his many trips and it became one of his favorite ways to distract himself. Playing chess didn’t require the friendly camaraderie that other games do (something he couldn’t muster while mourning you or during your recovery) and gave him something to focus on other than you. He got surprisingly good over time. Though he never put any real time into studying strategies, he has an uncanny ability to figure out his opponent’s plan, always countering it perfectly.

So when the two of you join an informal tournament and you start doing really well (like, really well), Asra just can’t take it. He can hardly believe that you were hiding this skill from him for all these years. He’s looking at you with so much love in his heart and a goofy grin on his face.

When you take a break before the final game and beckon Asra over, he assumes you’re nervous. He peppers your face with kisses and leans over to give you words of encouragement, but you stop him. You instead whisper in his ear, telling him you’ve been just pushing pieces around randomly. He pulls back, a look of shock on his face. Then, he breaks out into peals of laughter. 

Knowing your secret does not diminish Asra’s enjoyment of watching the final game at all. For a moment, he considers resting Faust on your shoulders and using her to communicate possible moves, but he decides to take a step back and let you work. He truly doesn’t care that you’re faking it, he’s in awe of you. His eyes even get a little misty when he thinks about how far you’ve come since the resurrection, the picture of cool confidence in front of the crowd.

When you win, he picks you up in his arms and spins you around. Sure, you may not be a secret chess genius, but it is just like the person he loves to manage to pull this off.

Nadia:

Nadia has been trained in a wide variety of strategy games and genuinely enjoys playing them. She occasionally studies chess strategies to keep her skills sharp. There’s nothing she enjoys more than the challenge of cracking a puzzle. It’s just like when she tinkers with mechanical projects: there’s always a “right” answer to each move her opponent makes, and she loves to figure it out.

She’s hosting a friendly competition with some fellow politicians and dignitaries in the salon. She encourages you to play a game, since it’ll look good for the Countess’ partner to be an active participant in the games.

She’s pleased to see you win your first game and continue to work your way up through the ranks. There’s pleasant chatter in the room while everyone compliments the Countess’ choice in partner. She’s proud of you, but her competitive edge is seeping in. She can’t believe that you hid your talent from her--she’s impressed, a little turned on by your chess prowess, and determined to take. you. down.

Soon, it becomes clear that you will need to go against Nadia. You’re shaking in your boots. You got this far against your other opponents, but you genuinely didn’t care about the outcomes of those games. All you wanted was to help Nadia host a good afternoon of friendly games. But now you’re in too deep. You need to put up a good display of strength against your wife, and ideally you would lose so Nadia can save face, but at this point you don’t even know how to move the pieces to get a certain outcome.

You and Nadia are seated across from each other and you are both trying to keep things friendly, but there’s a distinct undercurrent of tension in the room. You get first move as the reigning champion. Nadia takes a long moment, makes a deliberate move, then leans back and smirks at you. Uh oh, she’s feeling really competitive.

You go round for round, while you just move pieces based on your general whims. You can tell that Nadia is becoming slightly flustered, struggling to figure out your strategy. Finally, mercifully, Nadia pulls out a winning move. By now, the dignitaries have lost interest and the event naturally winds down after the game ends.

When you and Nadia are alone after the game, you know you have to tell her your secret. She detects the change in your mood and assumes you’re upset about losing. You turn to her, and the story spills out of you. You finish telling your story, breathless, and the two of you stare into each other’s eyes for a long moment before breaking out into laughter.

Julian:

Who brought a chess set to the Rowdy Raven? It looks so out of place in the tavern, where drunkards usually stick to playing cards and other simple games. The goal is usually to play as many rounds as quickly as possible to shuffle a few coins back and forth among the gamblers.

When Julian spots it, his eyes light up. He asks if you’d be willing to play a round against him, before a mysterious stranger walks up and claims the chessboard. They say that you’ll have to fight to use the chessboard. Julian’s already rolling up his sleeves, but you quickly realize that the stranger wants one of you to play them--if you win, you can borrow the board.

Emboldened by your drink, you push Julian away and sit across from the stranger. You know you’ve never played chess before, but how hard could it be? Turns out, not that hard. You just push a bunch of pieces around and soon, the stranger declares you the winner.

Julian swaggers up to the chessboard and sits across from you. Julian, the love of your life, who is so smart in so many ways, has also come to the same realization that you came to just moments ago. He has no idea how to play chess. 

“Hey, MC, how about the winner gets to ask a favor, ~any~ favor of the loser?” He’s waggling his eyebrows at you just like he always does. He’s calculated his odds of winning, and they’re not good. But he figures that if he wins, he’ll ask you for a kiss, and if he loses, he’s sure that your creative mind will find some use for him.

You play against each other, each making more and more questionable moves. You don’t know much about chess, but you think he’s moving some of the pieces in the wrong configurations. But you worry that if you call him out, you’ll expose your utter lack of chess knowledge. He also thinks you’re doing some weird things with the pieces, but he has the exact same concern.

Neither of you are willing to back down and admit you don’t know what’s going on. You also don’t know how to end the game. It’s something with the Queen piece, but which one is even the Queen?

The two of you play against each other, getting progressively drunker as you sip on Salty Bitters. A tankard or two later, you crack. You tell Julian all about your stroke of luck against the stranger and his grin just gets wider and wider. He tries to play it off like he’s an actual chess genius and he knew what he was doing the whole time, but you call his bluff. Better get him home, because soon he’ll be begging to be punished for lying.