#also it would further damage this poor hair

[thegeminisage]

im spot checking the places that are orange with the purple shampoo

[ladyymiisa]

UP SO LATE?

summary: a late night visit from your sweet boyfriend!

tags: hawks x fem!reader, fluff, a bit of spice but it’s barely there like you have to squint to see it

author’s note: YEAAAHHH WE ARE SO BACK BABY i’ve had this idea for months now im so glad i could finally write it out it was eating me up 🤞 also on a scale of 1 to 10 how wiling would you guys be to read obey me fics 😋

it happens during the late hours of the night, when you're completely worn out from a long day of work, after you've showered, applied all of the lotions in your bathroom, and changed into your coziest pajamas. by the time you’re usually done, your eyes can barely stay open from how tired you are, and all you can think about is sleep.

just like clockwork, right as you settle into the most comfortable position in bed, you hear it: three knocks on your balcony door—one firm, two light. the all too familiar signal that announces his presence.

despite the tiredness weighing down your limbs and your body’s desperate plea to stay cocooned in the warmth of your blankets, the excitement of seeing him always overcomes your exhaustion. it drives you to get out of bed quickly, your feet carrying you eagerly to the balcony to let keigo inside.

a fact about keigo is that he never fails to arrive with some sort of gift for you. whether it’s a small flower he picked up on his way or a box of chocolates he knows you particularly enjoy, he always comes bearing something. perhaps it’s his way of compensating for the lateness of his visits.

tonight is no different. without even glancing at the shopping bag he’s holding, you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder.

the action causes keigo to let out a surprised sound, which quickly shifts into an amused chuckle. as he adjusts the bag with the help of two feathers, balancing it effortlessly so that the contents inside don’t get damaged, he embraces you back just as tightly. his warmth, mingled with the faint scent of his cologne and the crisp night air, envelops you entirely, making you acutely aware of just how much you had missed him during the day.

“looks like someone’s quite eager to see me,” keigo remarks teasingly, his voice partially muffled by your hair as he plants a gentle kiss to your head. “you almost knocked the daylights out of me, babe.”

instead of giving keigo a verbal response, you nuzzle further into his shoulder, concealing your burning cheeks from his view. he laughs again, which prompts you to grumble softly against his jacket.

“keep acting cheeky and you might end up sleeping on the balcony,” you warn keigo, drawing back from the embrace to face him directly. despite your words, your arms remain looped comfortably around his neck.

now that you can clearly see his face, you take notice of the faint blush reaching the tips of his ears. sly bastard, he has the audacity to tease you as if he were any better. fortunately for him, being the considerate girlfriend that you are, you decide to refrain from commenting on it.

unfortunately for you, keigo’s fluster is short-lived. he quickly becomes more daring as his hands, which were previously caressing the small of your back, move to rest on your hips. he gives them a gentle squeeze, drawing you closer to his body while his fingers trail lightly along your sides.

honey-shaded eyes gaze at you devilishly. your warning appears to have no effect on keigo; if anything, it seems to amuse him further.

he hums softly, a lazy grin playing on his lips. “oh, really? you’d actually deprive your poor, overworked boyfriend of your warm bed?” he leans in, voice dropping to a low murmur. “and your touch? your warmth?”

before you can even register it, his lips begin to trace a path of feather-light kisses from your cheek to your jaw, gradually moving towards your neck with slow, carefully practiced pecks. he’s clearly aware of the effect he has on your body, for the moment his teeth intentionally bite into that particular spot that has your mind short-circuiting, any retort you had prepared fades away. the way he works you up so easily is enough to erase any trace of tiredness from your body, replacing it with newfound excitement instead.

your arms tighten their hold around his neck. he feels the way your fingers entangle themselves into his hair, giving it a firm tug. the sensation causes him to emit a low, appreciative grunt against your skin. as keigo continues to kiss, lick and suck along your neck, you find yourself unable to suppress the soft moans that fall from your lips any longer. the moment his ears pick up on them, he promptly lifts you, his hands moving beneath your ass to support your weight.

without any complaints, you wrap your legs around his waist, allowing yourself to yield completely to his touch. at this point, there’s no use in trying to fight back. you’re in for a long, long night.

as keigo slides the balcony door open and carries you into the bedroom, he takes care that his feathers place the shopping bag carefully on your desk. seems like you won’t be needing the lingerie set inside it tonight. no matter, he’ll ensure that you find use for it next time.

[themultifanshipper]

don't be shy. elaborate.

personally i see this podium as carlos holding reader in place between his legs, readers back against his chest as oscar absolutely devours them. i just know he's the king of guy to unhinge his jaw and eat his partner alive because have you seen that man? no further explanation is needed. carlos is praising reader to no end while they're squirming and poor lando is sat in the Cuck Chair TM (there's one in every hotel fight me) unable to touch himself even though he's so hard it HURTS and all he can do is grip the armrests of the chair until his knuckles turn white. go forth and do with my thots what you will 🙃

https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/750822766739111936/or-foursome-if-youre-not-a-pussy

This lineup goes hard

Warnings: nasty, nasty foursome. Unhinged Oscar. female reader

Oscar and lando bet that whoever was in front would get to eat you out while the other was forced to watch.

They put everything they had into that race, but Lando got damage and fell behind Carlos through no fault of his own.

So Oscar had an idea: let carlos join, just to torture Lando that much more.

So there they were, Oscar with his head buried between your legs, Carlos behind you holding your arms behind your back so you couldn't touch oscar, whispering sweet praises into your ear, and poor Lando in his cuck chair facing the bed.

Lando wasn't allowed to touch himself, so he was white knuckling the armrests as he squirmed, cock hard and leaking in his pants.

Oscar had promised him that if he was a good boy, he would fuck him nasty after, so he was determined to last.

Oscar was undeniably the best at giving head. Lando and Carlos were good too, amazing in fact, but Oscar had that lazy desperation that drove you insane. He alternated between gliding his tongue over your pussy, and shoving it as deep as possible while using his nose to rub at your clit, jaw unhinged and eyes rolling back as he loses himself in the sensation of your sweet juices running down his face.

You were three orgasms in when he finally lifted his head, face and shirt soaking wet, and looked at Carlos, who was also very hard but didn't dare try anything.

"Do you want to fuck her while I fuck Lando?" He asked, droopy grin exposing his bunny teeth, but weirdly he looked more menacing than cute in that moment.

Carlos groaned, his head rolling back towards the headboard. Lando whimpered in the corner and they both looked at him.

"Yes, please" was all Carlos could muster, the sight in front of him was changing his brain chemistry. Lando's hair was soaked in sweat, as was his underwear, very obvious tent under the wet patch as he panted and rolled his hips, searching for friction.

That's how you ended up in reverse cowgirl as Carlos pounded into you from below while Lando faced you on the bed, on his knees, prostate being abused by Oscar's fingers.

Once he was prepped, Oscar grabbed his hair and shoved his face down towards where your pussy was quivering around Carlos's cock, forcing Lando to look at it, and slid into him to the hilt, before starting a punishing pace.

Lando wailed into the covers as tears ran down his cheeks from the pleasure after being denied for so long, as Oscar started teasing him.

"Look at that Lando. Look at our girl's pussy being split open by another man's cock. That could've been you."

Lando whined as Oscar gave a particularly hard thrust before continuing "You could be making her feel good if you hadn't fucked up your race"

He knew that it wasn't Lando's fault, he was just being mean. But it was working because Lando moaned and tightened around his cock, so he slowed down to a slow grind, making Lando wail in desperation again.

"Don't be selfish Lando, our girl needs to come first, why don't you help her out, hmm?"

So he let go of Lando's hair, the older man immediately surging forward to lick over your lips spread around Carlos's cock, and Carlos groaned as he slowed down ever so slightly to help Lando out.

When Lando licked over your sensitive overstimulated clit, you shrieked and clenched around Carlos, which created a chain reaction.

Carlos suddenly pounded back into you, pumping you full of him as he came inside you, which made you come, drenching Lando's face in your juices, the sight of which sent Oscar into a frenzy, slamming his hips into Lando's, who then came completely untouched, the two mclaren drivers tumbling over the edge together.

You were all a mess of panting, sweaty bodies as you all caught your breath on the now very damp bed.

Lando spoke up first, wiping his slick wet hair away from his eyes. "Next time I win, you're going to suffer, Osc"

I spiralled (what else is new?)

Look at THESE MEN! RAIL ME! PLEASE!

[queenvhagar]

How did Alicent not create and further a hostile environment when she essentially forced Rhaenyra to present her baby immediately after childbirth, and acted with mocking concern that Rhaenyra walked all the way to her. Even while Alicent KNEW her mother died in childbirth. Alicent furthering rumors that her children are bastards, Alicent making Rhaenyra’s life hell and dangerous so much that she left to Dragonstone, Alicent leading to Harwin’s death. By your logic Cersei didn’t create any hostile environment either since they’re all just blameless women who don’t have power. Cersei couldn’t stop Joffrey from doing anything so Sansa has no right to hate her then

Alicent asked the baby be brought to her sometime after birth, and Rhaenyra chose to maliciously comply by carrying the baby herself, so people would see how bad Alicent was for making her go all that way when in reality Alicent just asked for a servant to bring the baby to her. Why did both of them do this? Well, it's clearly established that at this point there's been a decade of back and forth shot-taking at each other. The green dress moment, this incident, the contrasting opinions at the small council, the petty comments... all of this is indicative of the two of them trying to power play each other out because they didn't like each other. In this case, Alicent wanted to confirm for herself the third bastard, and Rhaenyra knew this and decided to accompany the baby despite Alicent not asking her to in order to shift the focus onto Alicent's request being unreasonable and away from the idea that she was requesting to see the baby so soon to confirm its parentage in the first place. It's them playing with perception of others here and trying to control the situation better than the other. Again, because there is a mutual dislike each other and there are competing interests between the two women.

None of the women in this story are wholly powerless, but there are women who have more or less power than others. Rhaenyra always had more power than Alicent, point blank. Rhaenyra is a Targaryen dragonrider, in the king's eyes his favorite and "only" child, and named heir to the throne. Alicent is the non-Valyrian dragonless daughter of a second son, and even though she became Viserys' second queen, clearly the king did not value her, setting her aside, laughing at her in public, calling her the wrong name in front of others, and he clearly did not care at all about their children together. The power level between the two is uneven, and it's crazy that people seem to think somehow Alicent is this all powerful villain who could have one-sided outright bullied a poor, powerless, helpless Rhaenyra. The power difference is clearly seen at Driftmark, when Rhaenyra gets the king to do everything she asks while Alicent begs him for any care about her son just to be ignored. All along Rhaenyra could wield her father's favoritism to benefit her, and she did, in that moment and again when Vaemond Velaryon came to court.

It's also important to acknowledge that the bastard "rumor" was not solely a Green creation that Alicent decided to make up with the purpose of making Rhaenyra look bad or something. As Aegon put it at Driftmark, everyone had eyes and could see that these white skinned brown haired boys clearly looked more similar to the white skinned brown haired man always at Rhaenyra's side than her husband, with his dark skin and white hair, who spent less time with Rhaenyra and the family than Harwin and more time with his squires. This plain fact is damaging and dangerous to Rhaenyra, but Rhaenyra is to blame for this. Her and Laenor tried maybe once before she immediately became pregnant with Jace by Harwin, according to the timeline, and as Margaery and actual history shows us it was definitely possible for queer men to have gotten a woman pregnant with the purpose of producing an heir. However, Rhaenyra was just interested in acting to their arrangement of dining as she pleased, and then proceeded to recklessly have not one but three clear pieces of evidence to her breaking her vow to her husband (which maybe is less scandalous to us, the modern viewer, but oath breaking is pretty serious in Westeros, especially for women). And before there's an argument of how she was forced to marry a gay man... Rhaenyra (and Daemon) did that. She left her marriage tour to pick her own match among hundreds of suitors early and then was seen in a brothel with Daemon, tarnishing her reputation and forcing her father to quickly marry her to a Velaryon (and of course Daemon brought her there with the purpose of sullying her reputation enough so Viserys would just let Daemon marry her). The funny thing here is that Harwin himself could have been a marriage candidate as the heir to Harrenhall and an active member at court, and he was certainly an option to consider! But she lost her chance. As heir to the throne and a Targaryen woman, there was no situation where she would not have needed to get married and make an heir, and Rhaenyra should have known this and considered her options while she had them. Then even when she was married to Laenor, there were ways around his queerness. Try to have a baby, or petition that he's infertile and the marriage should be absolved on that grounds so she can marry someone else. But Rhaenyra wanted to have her cake and eat it too; she wanted the Velaryons on her side to support her claim to the throne and a son of hers to one day inherit Driftmark, and she wanted to only have sex with Harwin and have his babies. Both were impossible at the same time if she wanted to avoid conflict.

Essentially, all of this put together, it was through her own choices that Rhaenyra had three obvious bastards that weakened her own claim and put herself in the middle of a political scandal. And even when Alicent talked about it at all, it was only with Viserys, Criston, and Larys in private (and she potentially told her children, likely to warn them of the further succession crisis this would cause when Rhaenyra or her sons try to come to power despite their weak claims and bastard status in this society that despises bastards). Obviously all of them already had eyes and knew the truth, and Criston had also already known the truth of what was going on because Rhaenyra explicitly had told him about the arrangement, and it was clear that Harwin was the one who filled that role for her. So when the third bastard is born, he goads Harwin into fighting him, exposing his role in the situation, and the attention on Harwin this causes results in Lionel Strong sending him back to Harrenhall. Then, Larys takes advantage of the situation to kill them both and become Lord of Harrenhall. He says he did it for Alicent, to get her father back, but realistically there's no reason to expect Viserys should have even asked Otto back as Hand after firing him (and he really shouldn't have, if he was trying to help Rhaenyra consolidate power). All of this considered, it's a pretty big step to say that Alicent is to blame for Harwin's death. I personally say it was Harwin's decision to be Rhaenyra's lover and father to her children that got him sent away from court, and then it was his own brother's decision to kill him for power.

Not exactly sure what your point is trying to bring up Cersei when the contexts are pretty different... like sure she was a lady married to a king who didn't love her and then she fought for her children's rights ruthlessly. But Cersei has a closer parallel in Rhaenyra, to be honest: a mother to three bastards who uses them to usurp thrones they have no real claim to and who ignores their misdeeds completely and/or weaponizes them against their victims. The obvious parallel here is Joffrey threatening and cutting the butcher's boy, getting attacked by Nymeria, and Cersei immediately pushing her own version of events that unquestionably paints her son as the ultimate victim and demanding the king take action against the others, and the Strong boys ambushing Aemond with a knife, beating on him four on one, cutting out his eye, and then Rhaenyra immediately pushing her own version of events that unquestionably paints her sons as the ultimate victims and demanding the king take action against the others. Cersei definitely did create hostile environments through her actions, as did Rhaenyra. Cersei could have tried to control Joffrey better, but she was unwilling to acknowledge his flaws or try to hold him accountable when he had done wrong. Almost like how Rhaenyra never talked to her boys about jumping a kid and cutting his eye out because she was unwilling to acknowledge their role in the situation or hold them accountable for their actions. Both mothers saw their children as largely flawless and were unwilling to confront them with their mistakes or misdeeds.

[dark-and-kawaii]

Feel free to respond to this whenever/if ever the mood to do so strikes.

Zevlor would eat you out with the dedication of a paladin sworn to carry out a life or death mission. He would drop to his knee for you faster than if a superior order him to 'Drop and give me 20!' Also, imagine being able to grip his horns while he is between your legs.

ᯓ★ On His Knees - Zevlor

DAMN STRAIGHT ANON!!! Zevlor is one of the best at giving head and no one can change my mind on this!!!

✧₊⁺ Content: NSFW - Zevlor Gives You The Best Head - Drooling Pussy - Sweet - Comfrot - Adorable Kawaii Ending xoxo

You could feel his tears wet your thighs as he pushed his face further into your dripping aching pussy. He was so honored, so happy you had chosen him, grateful that he could do this with another once more despite his age. Zevlor was beyond happy to pleasure you, to taste you, to be the one who makes your body sing with release and joy.

The man was a god when it came to him dropping to his knees and sliding that warm slick tongue of his deep inside of you. His tongue massaging every inch of your insides, his tastebuds rubbing against your plush gummy walls- your walls clamping down on his tongue as if begging for him never to leave.

His stamina unmatched. He had been going down on you for what felt like hours, your head was spinning, your legs cramping with how tight you kept them closed over his head. The way your hands clung to his horns, gripping them so tightly you feared that snap off within your grasps.

But your fears were quickly forgotten as his lips wrapped around your clit and suckled gently.

“Ah~ ♡ mnn!!~ Z-Zevy!!!!~” your entire body shaking as your second, or was it your third?- Ograsm washing over your body. You could feel his fingers tighten over your thighs- his nails holding you in place as he tried to keep himself grounded and in control.

Your own face flushed in embarrassment at the fact that his face was completely drenched with your juices, your thighs, his lips, his chin all glistening from you and his saliva. But Zevlor didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, the old hellrider kept going- licking up every drop you offered him.

“Z-Zev- I-I~ ah~ ♡!!! Ah~!!” Your nerves were fried from the overstimulation, “I-t feels s’like I-I’m on firreee~ ♡ Ahn~! AH~!!! ♡ ♡ ♡ NGHHH!!~~~” your voice cut off with a broken gasp. Your body trembling as he wrapped and swirled his tongue around your clit.

Zevlor’s eyes looked up to meet yours, the look on his face, the way he was smiling against you as he watched you fall apart, “You’re overflowing my dear, are you enjoying this as much as I am?”

His words alone sent you into a full body shutter as he brought his fingers down to your entrance, pushing them inside delicately- making sure his nails don’t cause damage as his mouth focused solely on your clit. His fingers pumping, his lips suckling, his tongue lashing over your bud as his eyes drank up the sight of your body reacting to his every action.

“I- I can’t sh-shtop sha-shaking~ ♡ ♡ ahhn~ ♡!!! It- s’t-too muhhh ♡!!! Much~ ♡!! Can’t s-stop m-moanninngg~ ♡!!!! Ah-haaannn~!!! Zev~ pllleeeeassseee-“

He could tell you were at your limits, and even though he wanted to continue to worship you for the rest of the night, he knew it was best to allow you some time to rest. Your crying and begging for mercy was evident enough.

Slowly he pulled his lips away from your clit, a string of saliva connecting his bottom lip to the bundle of nerves. The poor bud throbbing in a dull ache, your pussy clamping and spasming around his fingers, desperate to milk them as he withdrew his hand.

His knees ached from being on them for so long, and as he sat up to catch you before you collapsed against the wooden flooring he could hear his bones popping and creaking, but his body was still strong, still able to hold you in his arms.

You were a beautiful mess in his arms, your face was flushed, your hair sticking to your forehead, the furs below you both stained with sweat and your juices. You had a goofy little smile on your lips, your eyes hazy and glazed over as you stared at your lover, “Z-Zevlor~ ♡... So happy you’re mine~”

Zevlor couldn't help but laugh at your cute drunken expression, he kissed your forehead, his thumb caressing your cheek, his other hand holding you securely, “As am I my dear…” His tail caressed your toes, making you giggle, “as am I.”

[riririnnnn]

As I mentioned in my post earlier:

His cuff (that thing around his neck) is near transparent which gives us a lot of room to ponder since we don't exactly know what this chain even represent.

Taking Hiori as an example, let's suppose the chain represents the burden that holds back someone's true ego.

His cuff being transparent gives us two things:

1. It might be plastic which doesn't really make any sense if I were to be honest.

2. It is glass which makes a lot of sense because how's glass? Hell yeah, my geniuses, glass is really fragile which completely fits into what he said:

Further, in that volume cover, he has pulled down his collar which puts a lot of spotlight into his blue rose tattoo, and we all know what that tattoo symbolises for Kaiser.

In case you don't remember: Kaiser got this tattoo as a reminder to himself to never fall back into his weak mentality because Blue Rose symbolises the achievement of impossible, and he saw it as an example to turn impossible to reality since Blue Rose, itself, is artificial and defies the natural order.

What is said above can be found with a quick Google search:

But what grabbed my most attention is this panel:

WHY?

If he only wanted to push the soccer industry to despair, then why he is adamant about winning the Champions league and the World Cup?????

Also, contrary to popular beliefs, I don't actually think Kaiser has a superiority complex because, look:

What Chris said could be considered as an exaggerated way to rile someone, but isn't this, indirectly, exactly what Kaiser says after the Manshine City match ended?

Kaiser said something along the lines of, "BM's main character is Noa and it's impossible for me to be the current number one, that's why I came to NEL to use Isagi as a way to increase my value." He even went as far as to say that he is a secondary character in BM because BM is Noa's team.

I don't think so that anyone with superior complex will admit such real facts.

Further, why did he got so angry when Chris said those things? Isn't someone bound to be angrier if the other one was to point out their obvious weak point? So, does this mean, Kaiser actually got an inferior complex?

I'm not a psychologist, so I'm not dwelling too much into it.

However, there is another thing I want to point out:

So, because of that spreadsheet/official art of a very damaged soccer ball beside Kaiser's foot, the Fandom widely believes that Kaiser was poor while growing up .

BUT!

Being poor as a backstory has already been used three times: Naruhaya Asahi, Noel Noa, and Lorenzo Don.

I understand that in any sector with a lot of money and/or fame, there are many people who come from a poor economic background, but this is fiction, baby. No author wants anything be repeated to the point it feels overused.

That's why, I highly believe that Kaiser was either bullied or mistreated by his seniors when he started playing soccer which explains that he practiced fucking hard that the soccer ball was damaged, and also his supposed hatred towards the soccer industry. It also explains his long, unkempt hair because he was too indulged in practice.

OR!

It goes a bit darker, so proceed with caution:

Soccer somehow destroyed his family's peace just like the brotherhood of Itoshi brothers.

I may write about others in another post, but in this post, I would like to think that the person who destroyed his family's peace was his own father. It could be that his father was a soccer player himself and due to some circumstances, he fell off the soccer industry which took a toll on his mental health, and he started physically abusing either Kaiser, his mom or both.

Why physical abuse? Because Kaiser is shown having an affinity to choking.

If we get our minds out of the gutter, then there have been instances when he choked himself because he was frustrated. Also, didn't he say that he stroked his rose tattoo as a good luck before matches and compared it to, "as if tightening a noose," or something.

That's why, I kinda think that, AT LEAST, someone has choked Kaiser as abuse/bullying.

I'll rant about the above thing in another post tomorrow or some time later because I don't want this post to be too long, and also because I'm hungry af.

.

.

.

I remember a vivid dream when Kaiser threatened me to join BM.

[bunny-wk-fanfic]

Christmas Gift Exchange

As part of Rerumu's events, I had the honor of doing Fear's gift. I hope you enjoy it!

“And this is why Yaga had me partnered in p with you.” The voice was filled with exasperation. Dark eyes watch their best friend simple pout and suck his teeth in reply.

“It would get rid of the damn curse, though.” The comment was quickly followed by a long-suffering sigh. A head of white hair dropping back for added drama as yet another sigh was breathed out.

Seriously. Did Satoru need to be extra all the damn time?

“How would you explain levelling an entire park?” Seriously, they knew that the higher ups would be able to explain property damage to the world, but a park? That had nothing running beneath it save for maybe water and power lines?

“I said fine, sheesh. Always gotta do it the boring and long way.” Satoru simply devolved into grumbling now.

Suguru rolled his eyes. Satoru was a… alright guy. Could do with taking things a little more seriously. But as the strongest, Suguru figured he would also get bored quickly, too.

“Let's just get this over with.” Suguru sighed, he was tired and hungry. And if Satoru had it his way, they'd be eating nothing but sugar.

They walked a little further into the park, quickly picking up on the curse they were tasked to take out. Pausing, they looked at each other, this was a level on? It was more on par with a special grade.

Either the scouts were off their game, the curse had somehow been hiding what grade it really was, or the higher ups were up to something. Most likely, it was the higher ups.

A few more steps, and they froze at the sudden and violent increase in cursed energy.

Dark eyes locked with glowing blue from behind dark shades. The only reason a curse would act out like that, was if it was about to attack someone. Which meant a person had been locked in with them and the curse.

Just as they started rushing forward, a foreign energy rose up, blanketing the area and erasing whatever the curse let out. And just as quickly as both energies rose up, they just as quickly disappeared.

Rushing to where they last felt the curse energy, they arrived to nothing. Absolutely nothing. No destruction, no curses, no massacre of the poor unsuspecting civilian that had been locked in with said curse.

“What the…” Suguru searched the area, looking for any sign that the curse had been there.

Instead, all there was, was a peaceful area that was ideal for civilians to gather. In fact, far too peaceful. It felt clean, light, pure. There was no trace of cursed energy left.

Just as they began to relax, if they could, despite the oddness of the situation, a person came walking down from a different path.

“No, Mama, I'm alright, just had to deal with some creep.” She spoke casually into her cell phone, her other hand holding a branch that she just as casually tossed aside.

The situation was just, well to be honest, nothing they had ever had to deal with. And as for the girl herself, she had absolutely no cursed energy whatsoever. Another impossibility. Everyone had cursed energy.

“Yeah, I can make a stop to pick that up. Anything else?” her tone was blasé, there was no hint for them to pick up that she either was the source of the foreign energy or witnessed what could have possibly happened.

By pure instinct, Suguru reached out for her, fingers quickly closing around her wrist. “Wait!”

“Hang on a second, Mama.” then she turned her head and looked up at him, startling him with her clear gaze, and the fact that her eyes were blue.

Not the bright, near electric blue that Satoru has, but a deep and stormy blue.

From the corner of his eye, Suguru could make out Satoru motioning with his hands. Animated as always. No doubt wondering why he was just standing there.

“...yes?” she turned her head, looking at Satoru over her shoulder. “Was there something you needed?” her tone was slow, careful.

His lips pursed when he realized how this might appear. Two young men, stopping a young woman in a dark park while no one was around.

Immediately dropping her wrist, Suguru took a step back. “Sorry. Look, we just… we would like to know if you’ve seen!” Satoru was nearly flailing his arms now behind her back, far from the more subtle codes they’ve come up with by this point. “We’re just wondering if you’ve come across anything strange in the park. Anything out of the ordinary.”

“...uh, no?” she tossed Satoru another glance, slightly frowning at the odd pose he was holding. “I’m sorry, but, I really have to go now. Good evening.” with a quick bow of her head, she was quick to continue on her way.

Though, if the night could get even odder, she bumped into Satoru, offering a quick apology after nearly stumbling down the few steps leading out of the plaza area.

Satoru continued to stare where she disappeared around a corner, the echoes of her voice long gone.

“...let's go, this night has not only gone on long enough, but I can’t wrap my head around everything that’s gone on. Maybe we can find something.” waving a hand, Suguru took the lead to where the curse was supposed to be.

On the one hand, he was hoping that the curse was there, and the young woman had just been extremely lucky in bypassing it. On the other hand, he was also hoping that the foreign energy had done away with the curse.

The area was designed to be romantic, a perfect place for couples or confess your love. Also, an ideal area for unrequited love or being rejected by one's crush. So plenty of cursed energy to gather.

But the area was clear of any curses. There was an odd pile of ashes that were slowly getting scattered by the breeze. 

And a wallet.

Satoru was closer, he picked it up. “Higurashi… Kagome. She’s a local to the area, lives and goes to high school here.” he waved the wallet. “Looks like, we’ll be getting to know Miss Higurashi!”

Suguru sighed at the wide grin on Satoru’s face. Running a hand down his face, Suguru simply nodded his head and followed along. Once Satoru had an idea of what he wanted to do, or wanted in general, there was no real way of stopping him.

Some time later.

“Seriously, you guys are going to eat my family out of house and home.” Kagome grumbled, standing at the stove as she finished cooking the last bit of dinner.

It was more like a feast.

Ever since that evening some time back, Suguru and Satoru have taken to lingering around the shrine. And her school. And following her around. Seriously, why has she not called it in and reported it as stalking?

Oh, right. Because of the curses. Although, she still preferred to call them as creeps.

“But yours and Mom’s cooking is the best!” Satoru whined from his spot at the table.

Looking over her shoulder, her attempts to use her glare on him were thwarted. Either he was ignoring her, or his barrier proved effective against that as well. 

“Well, then at least pay for the food you guys eat!” she snagged a sponge and tossed it at Satoru’s head. Of course, that was blocked by his infinity. “Sheesh… I feel like I’m babysitting, only without the pay.”

Suguru simply chuckled. “Sorry, Kagome-chan. Our latest mission was in the area, and Higurashi-san was kind enough to leave an open invitation for us.” he gave a subtle kick to Satoru’s chair, in an effort to get his friend to behave. “Should we call or text ahead from now on?”

Letting out a sigh, Kagome paused for a moment. “I… no.” damn her bleeding heart. And why did Mama leave an open invitation?

No, Mama did that with all her friends, even Inuyasha received one, so it was no surprise that Satoru or Suguru were also welcomed.

Turning on the stove, Kagome finished up by plating the last of dinner. “No need to do that.” piece said, Kagome carried everything to the table. “But seriously, you two eat a lot. Does taking out those curses require a lot of energy?”

Satoru was all smiles, though it drooped a little at the lack of sweets. “I guess? If you’re talking physically, that is.” he didn’t even look up when he began piling food onto his plate.

“Do you need to eat to replenish your energy?” Suguru asked as he helped himself to dinner.

They’ve already talked about curses, cursed energy, and her own energy. But certain specifics were never discussed. “No. Well, I mean, if I’m physically weak due to hunger, it’ll be harder for me to use it. But it doesn’t deplete my energy.”

Kagome fixed her own plate, eying the spread and hoping that there would be enough for Souta once he got back from his training, and that they would have leftovers for lunch tomorrow.

“By the way,” Satoru’s voice was slightly muffled due to his stuffed mouth. “Where is everyone?”

With a flat expression, Kagome simply stared as Satoru stuffed his face, happily humming and munching on dinner. “Grandpa wanted to visit an old friend in Kyoto, so Mama had to drive him. And Souta had soccer training today, so he’ll be home later. So leave some for him!” Kagome was quick slap Satoru from grabbing a fourth plate.

“Ow, Kagome-chan! So mean!” Satoru shook his hand, he wore an expression of an exaggerated pout.

“No, I’m just trying to ensure that Souta gets his fair share.” Kagome pushed the plates away from Satoru. “Or that Suguru-kun and I could have seconds.”

“I’m fine, Kagome-chan, really. I’m more than used to his behaviour.” Suguru offered a smile, one that no longer worked on her any more.

“No. And stop making excuses for that man-child.” Kagome shook her head, once again slapping Satoru’s hand away from the food without even looking. “Satoru, behave.”

Head tipping to the side, Kagome eyed the two. Satoru, while pouting, was as energetic as usual. Suguru on the other hand, was looking pale and listless. So, when Satoru finished his portion of dinner and headed for a shower, because of course Mama ensured they both had some spare clothing here for that as well, Kagome and Suguru cleared the table and dealt with the leftovers.

And just to be sure, Kagome placed a sealing barrier around Souta’s plate that she knew Satoru could not get through.

“Seriously?” Suguru’s question held amusement as he started on the dishes.

“I trust him about as far as I can throw him.” closing the fridge, Kagome joined Suguru at the sink. “But enough about that man-child, how are you doing? You’re looking a little worse for wear lately.”

Suguru shrugged, keeping focused on the task at hand. “The missions are just getting that much harder. With how many there are and how difficult they’re becoming.”

Nodding her head, Kagome focused on the dishes in her hands for a bit before speaking up again. “You know, that you can come to me if you need any help. Any time.” eying him, his sagging shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes, she realized that there was obviously more weighing on his mind.

“Anything else? I’ve been told I’m an incredible listening.” she teased him, bumping elbows with him, smiling when it garnered a small and genuine grin from him. “And, if anything, an outside perspective might give you some insight you didn’t know you could have used.”

Bobbing his head, Suguru remained silent for a while, just letting them focus on their respective tasks. And once it was done, Kagome began making tea. She even pulled out some sweets that Satoru could gorge himself on if he so desired. As if it were a question.

“I… have been struggling with everything it means with being part of the jujutsu world.” he sat at the table, finally looking like he was bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Not only that… Satoru is constantly getting stronger, while I’m being left behind. Or that’s how I feel. And then there was that incident a couple of months ago.”

Placing their respective mugs on the table, Kagome opted for sitting next to him, rather than across. “...Riko-chan… Satoru mentioned a bit about it and the girl.” Kagome commented, simply holding her mug despite the heat piercing through her fingers.

Suguru nodded his head. “Yeah. It really hit when Satoru showed actual… regret, at her death.” his chuckle was hollow, only adding to his appearance or making it more pronounced. “Ever since then, I’ve been questioning why we’re doing what we do. Also wondering… if we, sorcerers, are doing things the right way.”

Kagome simply listened to him, it started slowly, but Suguru continued when she didn’t interrupt. Her heart clenched at seeing and hearing the genuine pain, frustration, and confusion she was witnessing. Once he was done, Kagome leaned against him, attempting to use her own powers to help elevate the heaviness and darkness of his own aura.

“I’m not going to say I understand completely, I’m still learning about your super secret curse society from you and Satoru,” that earned a chuckle from Suguru which had her smiling in return. “But it feels and sounds like you’re attempting to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. And no one, regardless of how strong or talented or the tools they have, should carry the world.”

Despite leaning against him, she turned to face him a little more directly, and whispered her next words. “Here’s something I learned from my own experience. Fuck the world.”

Witnessing Suguru’s absolute shock in the widening of his eyes and his jaw dropping was absolutely amusing, and she found it made him look boyishly charming, Kagome figured it was a combination of her statement and her use of foul language.

“Instead, focus on doing what you need to do, but for those you care about. The rest will fall in place.” turning back to watch the setting sun out of the kitchen window. “Once I realized that myself, doing what I needed to do was so much easier. No need to justify it or add any extra reasons.”

Suguru continued to watch her silently for a few moments. “...it really helped you?”

“Oh yeah.” nodding her head, Kagome took a sip of her tea. Leaning against him once again, she let out a relieved sigh. “Best part? Mama gave me that advice. Foul language included. So, if you ever, and I mean ever, need anyone to talk to, or need an open ear, we are here for you.”

Suguru nodded his head. But more importantly, his poster seemed more relaxed and there was colour once again flushing his cheeks. And when he turned to face her, there was a brightness back in his eyes. “Thanks, Kagome. It really means a lot.”

There were a few minutes of peaceful silence, before Satoru returned, hair still damp and wearing casual leisure wear. “Well, shower’s free. Oh! Kagome, you spoil me!” his arms were immediately around her as he reached for the plate of speciality baked goods.

“Gah! Satoru, get off, you weigh a ton!” Kagome attempted to push him away while she was smushed against Suguru.

A dramatic gasp from Satoru was quickly followed by him pulling her into his hold and nuzzle into her hair. “Kagome! How could you be so cruel?” a cry echoed out of the room, most likely Satoru just being dramatic and not from actual pain. “Ow! Wait- ow! Stop!”

Freed from his clinging, Kagome heaved as she stared at Satoru. “Personal space!”

Satoru just continued to pout and sniffle, rubbing at a shin. “...so violent. Suguru, why doesn’t she lash out with you?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Suguru pulled Kagome into a far less hold, petting her hair back into place, all as if to prove a point. “Because I don’t act like an over grown child?”

“Keep this up, and you will not be allowed sugary treats or snacks on the shrine grounds.” her statement and warning.

Satoru paused his obvious approach, gaze darting between her and the plate of dessert meant for him alone, and then back to her again. Another whimper, subdued, Satoru choose a different seat and slowly pulled the plate towards him. “...so mean…”

Hearing Suguru’s laughter, no matter how small or short it had been, was heartfelt and honest.

It was moments like these, even with Satoru’s antics, that Kagome enjoy their presence. And she swore, she would help in any way she could so that they had time away from curses and being sorcerers.

September, a year later.

It had been a fateful night, when she met the twins.

Suguru calling had not been out of the norm. His tone had been off, but Kagome simply stocked it off as him possible once again overworking himself on missions.

When he showed up some time later, possibly within an hour, she had nearly had a heart attack. And when Suguru introduced the twins to her, she understood. If she hadn’t been through what she had, wrangling a disconnected Suguru and two clearly traumatized children to eat and clearing them up and dressing them would have been difficult.

However, Kagome managed.

Once Nanako and Mimiko had be tucked into her bed, fast asleep clinging both to each other and some of her old plushes, Kagome turned her attention onto Suguru.

At first nothing, but once she managed to get him to open up, it all came flooding out. She was disturbed by how Suguru broke down. Not because of his display of such raw emotions, but that she hadn’t known how much he had been hurting.

So she did all what she could do.

She consoled him as best as she could, not flinching when Suguru revealed what he did when he found the twins. While she mourned, it was more so for the innocence that Nanako and Mimiko lost to their village, it was for Suguru that obviously lost a part of him in that same village.

After Suguru let it all out, he had been exhausted, but Kagome knew that he should not go to sleep as he was. He was dishevelled, and Kagome didn’t honestly know when he had last eaten. And the cookies and hot chocolate she had left out for Nanako and Mimiko did not count.

So she quickly served up an easy to make, as well as easy to eat, meal for him. While Suguru ate, Kagome prepared a bath and some spare clothes.

Kagome then had to help him after with his bath, and she had blushed the entire time. For whatever reason, that broke Suguru out of his disconnect. Helping a naked and wet Suguru bathing, whatever was left from the village that still clung to him was hard. But that all came to a head when Suguru relaxed and then began flirting with her.

If the twins weren’t sleeping just down the hall, Kagome would have been very vocal. And it had only been Suguru’s quiet, near broken pleas, that kept her there at his side.

But, if she could treat Inuyasha and Miroku whenever they received some highly questionable wounds, she could assist Suguru. She had kept her gaze respectful, though if he ever caught her gaze straying, she simply chalked it up to making sure she hadn’t missed any possible wounds.

As for the rest of the night, Kagome moved them back to the living room. The tv had been on low, while Kagome had cuddled Suguru, shared with him and combed her fingers through his hair until he finally fell asleep.

The following morning, when Mama, Gramps, and Souta had returned from a weekend trip, Kagome had explained the situation to them. Mama had taken charge, directing Gramps into getting in contact with his friends that helped when she was travelling through the well to help get everything Nanako and Mimiko would need for the future. Souta had been tasked with pulling out any of Kagome’s old clothes from childhood they still had for the girls.

And when Suguru and the twins woke up, the air had been tense with a sort of fragile hope. Mama had quickly whipped up a breakfast that the girls went at with. They were ravenous. Both wary to ask if they could have it and then hoarding whatever they got their hands on.

While Kagome watched the girls, Mama and Suguru had disappeared for a while. When they came back, her Mama was a picture of calm and Suguru looked relieved. Then he shared with everyone one, that for the next little while, Nanako and Mimiko would be staying at the Higurashi home while he got everything ready.

Kagome had been confused, but then she got suspicious when Suguru shared a glance. When the twins showed and voiced their worries, Suguru was quick to chime in to calm them with promises that he wasn’t leaving them. He would often visit and that they could trust the Higurashi family.

Some time later.

“Girls, time to come in for lunch!”

The voice rang over the courtyard, drawing Kagome’s attention away from the little snowman family she was building with the twins. “‘Kay, we’ll be back in a few minutes!”

Turning back to the family, Kagome hid her amused smile behind a gloved hand. There had been an abundant snowfall in the last couple of days, and Kagome thought it would be best to enjoy it while it lasted.

She pulled out her cell and quickly snapped a picture.

It was adorable!

Looking at the picture, her heart warmed her heart. In the picture, Nanako and Mimiko had recreated their family in snowmen, finishing on the mini snowman that represented her. Opening her contacts, she selected Suguru and sent him a picture along with a short message.

Task done, Kagome called the twins' attention. “Okay, you two, time to eat.”

“But our snowmen aren’t done!” Nanako whined, Mimiko nodded her head in agreement

“Don’t worry, they’ll be there when you’re done.” she dusted some snow from Mimiko’s head, the snowflakes showing up more easily against her darker hair. “Come on, don’t think I can’t hear you sniffling, Nanako.”

They grumbled a little, but nodded in agreement. Rushing inside, though they did toss a few glances back at the snowmen. As Kagome followed, her cellphone buzzed. Fishing it out revealed a reply from Suguru. It was a very sweet message with news the girls were sure to be happy about.

Sharing said news made lunch a much more lively affair. The girls excited and talking about showing their snowmen to Suguru, along with sharing their hopes that he would stay longer. Souta was chatting about the latest game he was interested in and a possible upcoming date with Himiko. Gramps was grumbling about the weather, the chores that still needed to be done. And Mama, she easily responded without missing a beat.

It was a couple of hours later when Suguru finally did show up, the girls crowding him and bombarding him the usual questions.

“Girls, let’s give him some time to wind down and get something to eat.” Kagome leaned down, whispering to the girls. “This way you can finish your pictures for him.”

They shared a look, nodded their head, before darting into the living room.

Suguru let out a tired chuckle. “Thanks. Shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes to catch my breath.” he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek as he entered the kitchen.

Blushing, Kagome sputtered, her brain stalling. Ever since he brought the girls, Suguru’s been far more affectionate with her. Their relationship was no longer purely platonic, but it wasn’t definite if they were a couple either. Guess that’s what happens when you see someone naked, she had been checking for wounds, dammit! And the entire time, Suguru had flirted! While she had been thankful, he had broken out of his disconnected state, his flirting had not been what she expected.

While he was eating, Kagome prepared some hot chocolate for the twins. Hopefully it would give Suguru a little more time to finish his food.

“I have a surprise, for you and the girls, for after.” Suguru relaxed as he watched her.

“A surprise?” brow raised, Kagome finished the mugs for the girls. Narrowing her eyes, she grew suspicious of his smile. “Is it about the secret between you and Mama? Because I’ve seen you two whispering, and don’t lie to me, I’ll know.”

Suguru simply chuckled, shaking his head. “Won’t deny that. But trust me, I know you’ll like it. I know the girls will love it.”

Kagome simply gave the girls their hot chocolate, she didn’t have a thing to say to his words. She did wonder if Satoru was a part of all this.

While she was curious, Suguru smirked every time she looked towards him, but was taking his time with the girls first. It was almost near dinner time when Suguru mentioned having a surprise. But they would need to put on their coats and boots.

Now Kagome was really confused. As the girls rushed outside, she made her way to Suguru’s side. “If it’s a dog, I hope you know we don’t have the room for that. We’re cramped as it is.”

He simply tucked her into his side, leading them away from the house. When she saw her family following after them, Kagome’s confusion grew.

“Mimiko, Nanako, this way!” Suguru waved his free arm, herding the girls to follow them, his smile small, soft, but genuine when they skipped behind them.

“Seriously, what is going on?” they weren’t making their way towards the shrine. In fact, if Kagome didn’t know any better, and she did since she grew up on these grounds and knew just about every knock and cranny, she was sure they were making their way to a neighbour’s house.

Instead of the wall that surrounded the shrine grounds, there was a new gate. She could see Mrs. Miura’s house, but it too had some changes from her childhood memories. There were some more modern extensions added to the house.

Suguru didn’t explain when she looked up at him, instead, he pushed the gate open, revealing the green backyard that Kagome always envied as a child. The small koi pond tucked close to the wall, a small little vegetable garden close to what Kagome always assumed to be a door to the kitchen. The rest was a blanket of snow, that Kagome knew his a plush manicured lawn.

“What… is all this?”

“Our new home.” Suguru smiled when the girls gave excited cheers and rushed ahead of them, exploring all that they could reach.

“Mrs. Miura had been sharing for some time, that her son’s family wanted her to move to the countryside so they could all be closer, and Suguru had mentioned some time ago wanting to get a proper house for the girls, I simply had them meet.” Mama watched the girls from next to them, a serene smile in place. 

Looking up at Suguru, she stared in wonderment. “It must have cost a fortune.” not just buying the property, but also adding the extensions.

“It was worth everything, besides, what else am I going to do with the money I earn?” his shrug was so casual, blasé. “And it got me thinking. While I do want to help with getting rid of curses, I can’t continue with the way things are done according to the elders. So, once I graduate, I’ll be stepping back and concentrating on the girls while taking the occasional mission.”

Hugging him, Kagome simply buried her face into his chest. She had been so worried about Suguru, especially since the night he brought the girls home. This, his plan, it sounded… “It’s perfect.”

Almost two years later.

“You what?” she couldn’t believe the words that just left Satoru’s mouth. Even Suguru looked stunned.

Satoru merely gave a nervous chuckle. “I, uh, I um… took in two kids?”

“No, no.” Kagome waved her hand, pushing away from the table and her studies. “That part I heard and understood. The part I’m struggling with, is the fact that you’re letting said kids continue to live on their own.”

As if cramming for finals wasn’t enough, now Satoru had to drop this bombshell of news? Seriously, where was his common sense?

Scrubbing her face, Kagome contemplated if he had possibly rotted his brain with all those sweets he was constantly eating. It could only explain his thought process.

Ever since Suguru bought Mrs. Miura’s house and moved in, she had spent as much time in his home as she did on the shrine. He even secured a space just for her. Satoru also crashed here just as often as he did at the shrine.

“Satoru, how old are they?” she understood they were young, but Satoru didn’t really explain properly.

He shrugged his shoulders. “‘Dunno? Around the twins’ age I guess.”

“Around the twins’ age…” scrubbing her face once more, Kagome stood up and leaned against the table to stare into the idiot’s eyes. “Satoru, go get those children, and bring them here.”

“But they said-!” he flinched when a glowing eraser bounced off his forehead. “Ow, ‘Gome-chan! So mean!”

“Satoru Gojo. You will bring those children here, or you’ll never have my cooking.” when she saw that he was about to speak up, Kagome continued. “Or Mama’s!”

He let out a whimper, flinching beneath her fierce gaze. When Kagome didn’t utter another word, he turned to Suguru for support. “Don’t look at me, I agree with her. And you know how Mom would react if she heard how you handled the situation with those children.” Suguru raised his hands, pushing away from the table as a way to state he was not getting involved.

“Ugh, fine.” with exaggerated movements, Satoru got up. “But I wasn’t kidding when I said they wanted to continue living alone. The boy was such a brat about it, too.”

And then he was gone.

“I swear… a man child.” Kagome slumped over her notes. “How you put up with his antics alone and for so long without losing it, you must be a… a saint or something.”

“Trust me, you get him in line much quicker than I have ever seen.” Suguru smiled.

Kagome whimpered at his statement. Sadly, she really didn’t have much for comparison outside seeing Mama or Suguru wrangle him in. “And yet he frustrates me like no one ever has.”

“I’ll go tell the girls that we’ll be gaining more family members.” Suguru stood up and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Try not to stress it too much.”

Grumbling, she could only take in a deep breath before righting herself. Kagome wondered if this was how Mama felt when she had to deal with the Shikon and all that came with it.

She wondered if she would put up with so much of Satoru’s antics, if he weren’t so attractive. Satoru knew this fact, that she found him attractive, and was not ashamed to use that against her.

And just like that, Satoru had returned. With two children.

“I said no!” the boy wore a fierce expression for one so young, his black hair reminded her of an agitated hedgehog, and his clothes were possibly a few sizes too big for him.

The girl on Satoru’s other side looked a little more subdued, calmer. Her appearance was more neat. “Megumi-kun…” when the girl saw her, she paused in surprise. “Oh! Hello!”

Kagome smiled in return, “Hello. Sorry about Satoru, I asked him to bring you here.” getting up, she approached the two and greeted them as she had the twins a few years back. “I’m Kagome, may I know your names?”

The boy, whom Kagome figured was Megumi continued to pout and turned away. As for the girl, she appeared torn between being polite and unsure. “Well, um, I’m Tsumiki Fushiguro, and that’s my brother, Megumi Fushiguro.”

Megumi’s reaction was instant, disbelief and frustration. Well, as much as he could muster for a boy his age. It was apparent the boy either distrusted adults, or people in general. They would learn which it was soon enough.

“Tsumiki-chan and Megumi-kun, it’s nice to meet you.” smiling, she looked them both in the eye. “Now, Satoru explained a bit about how he’s responsible for taking care of you, but you wanted to stay in your home alone.”

“We’re fine.” Megumi mumbled, his pout quite pronounced.

“I believe you. You gotta be pretty strong and smart to live alone at your age.” head tipping, Kagome watched them. “However, it’s not safe.”

All Kagome could honestly recall, was a high-pitched ringing in her ears after Satoru explained he took in the children, but she could vaguely recall there possibly be others after them. By the sound of it, they would possibly do anything to get to them.

At this point, Suguru approached with the twins. Tsumiki immediately noticed, her hand tugging on Megumi’s sleeve drew his attention.

“Mimiko-chan and Nanako-chan are like you, so you won’t be alone.” at least, Megumi wouldn’t be alone. He had the same aura she was now associating to sorcerers. Tsumiki, she felt like every normal person Kagome has ever crossed paths with.

Her statement seemed to perk Megumi’s interest, his gaze darting to the twins. “...can they do what I can?”

Kagome didn’t know what Megumi could do, nor was she aware of the specifics of what the twins could do. “Ah, that you’ll have to talk to Suguru or Satoru about that. I don’t work with cursed energy.”

Megumi’s gaze grew suspicious when he looked at her. “Yeah… you feel weird.”

“Oi!” Satoru gave the boy a light ruffling of hair. “‘Gome-chan ain’t weird, your prickly brat!”

Megumi looked more his age as he interacted with Satoru. Perhaps, Satoru’s childish antics could help Megumi act more his age.

“Um, Kagome-san, what about all our things?” Tsumiki looked excited, the grip she still hand on Megumi’s sleeve tightening.

“Oh, Satoru can pick it all up.” Kagome gave him a pointed look, ignoring his pout. “In the meantime, the twins can show you around while Satoru, Suguru and I discuss some things. Girls? Do you mind showing Tsumiki-chan and Megumi-kun around the house?”

The girls nodded, warry as they approach and introduced themselves. It wasn’t until all four children left the room and made their way deeper into the house that Kagome stood up.

“I think Tsumiki and Megumi should stay here.” Kagome dusted her knees. “I’ll tell Mama after collecting my things here and bringing them back to the shrine. Don’t know if Tsumiki and Megumi will want to share a room or not.”

“You’re moving out?” Suguru loosely took hold of one of her hands, his expression one of worry.

Giving his hand a squeeze, Kagome smiled up at him. “Oh, it’s like you said, I’ll be close by. Just beyond the gate!”

“...do I really need to get their things?” when both Suguru and Kagome gave him pointed looks, he raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Teaming up against me, so unfair! Shall I just pick up something to eat for supper while I’m out?”

“Yeah, that would be best” Kagome rubbed at her brow, already going over everything that would need to be done now that Tsumiki and Megumi were here.

Satoru gripped her free hand, drawing her attention. Her cheeks flushed with colour when he pressed a kiss to the inside of her palm. “Hey, no need to worry about everything all at once. Pretty sure Mom will want to pitch in and help, this way you can focus on finishing your final year.”

Kagome turned away from both of them. Not that it would hide her blush. “Y-yeah. You’re right.”

“You go get their things, I’ll help Kagome gather her things from her room.” Suguru gave the hand in his hold a gentle tug, not just to draw Kagome attention onto him, but to copy Satoru’s actions to kiss the inside of her palm.

Really, the two of them. They were working together against her, she knew it, they had to be. “R-right. Let’s get to it then!”

When she turned to lead the way to her room, she missed the shared look between Suguru and Satoru.

Some time later.

The living room was moderately decorated, giving off a festive feel to it. Well, almost. Kagome was working with Satoru and Suguru to decorate for Christmas. The kids had been so excited, school and classmates only encouraging them. So, Kagome roped Suguru and Satoru into giving them a Christmas they would happily recall.

“There… I think that does it?” Kagome climbed down from the stepladder, to observe her handy work with the garland she finished putting up.

Yes, the living room was looking appropriate for Christmas. Due to the living room being in the older part of the house, there was only so much they could do and only so much room they had. So a modest little Christmas tree sat atop a corner table, garlands lined top of the walls, and since they didn’t have a place to hang stockings, Kagome had suggested using the children’s winter boots instead.

“Ah, it does look nice.” Suguru agreed, a pleased smile in place.

Satoru leaned against the wall, apparently done with his task. “Not bad. But… I think there’s something missing.”

Confused, Kagome turned to him. “Missing? What could be missing?”

“No, Satoru is right.” Suguru nodded, his words taking on that sagely tone. “I think it’s a matter of perspective. Come look at it from over here.”

Huffing at the ridiculousness, Kagome moved to stand between them. “There’s nothing missing! We have a decorated tree, even if it is on the smaller side. Garlands along all the walls, a wreath tacked above the door to the backyard, somMF!”

Blue eyes widened into Satoru’s dazzling ones. His seemed to sparkle and dance with joy, his thumbs stroking her cheeks as he continued to kiss her.

It tasted sweet, not because of all the snacks Satoru like to eat, but because it was Satoru. She grew heady, the scent of his cologne surrounded her. And his lips were softer than she could have ever imagined as the gentle brushed against her own.

Satoru’s smirk when he finally pulled was one she had rarely seen. Usually reserved to whenever he managed to fluster her, which happened more often since Tsumiki and Megumi had moved in.

“Wha-what was that-!” her words were cut off when Suguru spun her to face him and claimed a kiss himself.

His was more passionate, still gentle, put just as passionate. Where Satoru was sweet, Suguru was spice. His cologne blended with Satoru’s, the combination making her dizzy and forcing her to cling to Suguru.

Kagome let out a quiet moan when she felt his tongue swipe across her lower lip, only for him to nibble said part of her lip before he finally pulled away.

Panting to catch her breath, Kagome had to wonder if she fell off the stepladder and was dreaming all of this. It took some time to collect herself, still utterly confused about the entire situation.

“Don’t you make for a pretty picture.” Satoru commented, tucking some stray strands behind her ear.

Kagome licked her lips, they still continued to tingle, and she swore she still felt the differences in how they had kissed her. “...what… what was that all about?”

Suguru tipped her chin up, pointing to a little sprig of green leaves and white berries hanging from a red ribbon at the top of the doorway they all stood in. “A lovely Christmas tradition, mistletoe.”

She was stunned. Absolutely stunned. Any comment or question she could have asked was squashed when all four children peaked from over the stairs.

“...does this mean Kagome is our Mama now?” Tsumiki asked, apparently, being the oldest among them made her the leader.

Staring at them, all four faces that were watching eagerly as they waited for a response.

“Wha-” Kagome once again beaten to the punch.

Satoru wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side, as Suguru kept an arm around her waist to fit her securely between them.

“Yup!” as always, Satoru was sure to exaggerate his response. “You brats are lucky! Not every family has awesome parents like us.”

Megumi, sweet brooding little Megumi, stood up completely. “Nah. I’m okay with Kagome being our Mom and Suguru being our Dad, but we don’t need you.” he ignored Tsumiki’s scolding. “I’m going back to bed now. Goodnight… Mom.”

The twins giggled as Satoru gasped. “Don’t expect any gifts under the tree, Gumi-chan!”

The boy merely waved the words off. “Come one… we got our Christmas wish, let’s all go back to bed.”

“Sorry Papa Satoru! Good night, Mama, Papa Suguru!” Tsumiki darted after Megumi, with a bright smile.

Nanako and Mimiko booth stood up as well, also smiling. “Good night, Mama, Papa Suguru, Papa Satoru!” their happy giggles trailed after them as they made their way back to their shared room.

Kagome stood in stunned silence, once again questioning if she had fallen from the step stool, bumped her head, and was now dreaming all of this.

“For the record, and for legal matters, I think Kagome should marry me and take the Gojo name. It’ll offer more protection, especially from the elders.” Satoru commented, tossing a smirk at Suguru. “You’ll be our kept man, right Suguru?”

“Don’t be a dick about it.” Suguru responded. “But… you’re right. It would offer better protection.”

Kagome shook her head. “Uh, do I get a say about any of this?”

“You heard the kids, this is their Christmas wish.” Satoru leaned down to give her another peck. “You don’t want to disappoint them, do you?”

“He’s right, you know. Saying no would crush their dreams, and Mom’s too.” at her sudden glare, he took a step back and raised his hands in surrender.

“You brought Mama in on this?” now there was no way Kagome could say no. They would all guilt trip her.

“Well… she made us swear to let you finish high school first.” Suguru started off, smiling down at her.

“And that we protect you. And the brats. Like that wasn’t a given.” Satoru continued. “And that we at least wait a few more years for more grandkids.”

“Wha- Satoru!” she gave him a smack, adding just a little purification power to it, for a little extra measure. Honestly, Kagome was pretty sure he enjoyed it. Letting out a sigh, Kagome decided that it would be best to discuss all of that later. With Mama present. “Let’s… let’s just focus on Christmas. For the kids!”

Suguru was the first to steal another kiss. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Satoru quickly followed after. “So sweet of you to agree, dear!”

“I didn’t! Arg!” Kagome just decided to just… enjoy Christmas and deal with everything else later.

Well, whatever the future had in store, she had her family with her. “Merry Christmas, girl, it sure is bound to only get more chaotic from here.” with a chuckle, Kagome turned to the kitchen, some hot chocolate sounded pretty good right now.

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

New Home

AU Reverse Therapy

Previous Part: (Not)Salvation, Next Part: Peaceful Sleep

Summary: Luka and Virgil bring the girl to her new home.

Pairing: Chaos!Lamenter/fem!OC/Chaos!Flesh Tearer

Characters: Malina (fem!OC), Luka The Angel (OC Chaos Lamenter), Virgil (OC Chaos Flesh Tearer)

Warnings: yandere, violence, mentions of necrophilia and cannibalism

Word count: 2030

Author's note: I really enjoyed writing these idiots.

Song: Inkubus Sukkubus - Danse Vampyr

Tag List: @kit-williams

When Luka officially became a member of the Red Corsairs, he underwent several modifications at the local apothecary. Increased strength and agility, unholy rituals. But no one told him what one of the chemo treatments meant. His new brothers wanted to have fun and see his reaction.

And he, feeling previously hidden emotions, could not resist and gutted the poor female cultist. Later, when he learned that he now felt desire, his soul of the Lamenter sang. Even having become a traitor, he still valued mortals. Not all, but still the need to care remained. And now it has become much more intimate.

He constantly kidnapped mortals. But they died quickly and this made him so sad. Poor "Flower" could not withstand his unbridled desire and her heart eventually stopped. He immediately ate her remains out of grief after he finished. "Rain" cried constantly. Although Luka constantly apologized for having to cut her to drink her blood. But then he had no control over himself and was afraid that he had damaged her neck!

The bad "Pet" was to blame for herself. She always called him a traitor, bit and scratched. Once she wanted to kill him! Luka had to punish her and the once proud imperial soldier began to eat human flesh from the floor like a dog and go under herself with a stupid smile on her disfigured face. In the end, he threw her into the pit with the other slaves. Perhaps she is still alive and hunched over on the lower levels. Luka did not know and did not want to know how the vile bitch was doing.

But this girl... she is different. She is special. Luka had never wanted to possess anyone as much as her.

The rescued city girl was still sleeping on his bed, tired after what she had been through. Her dark hair was scattered across the pillow, and her olive skin was thoroughly washed from ash and dirt (but only exposed areas of skin!) This was just right for the space marine. Not only did he have time to return to the massacre (pouring acid on the inhabitants and eat parents before children's eyes was especially fun), but he also had time to prepare everything.

He ordered the slaves to wash the room clean (he did not live in filth, but the unholy bloody signs had to be removed), drew a two-headed eagle (it turned out crooked, but he tried), got everything the girl needed. Sets of clothes, food and dishes, soap for the bath. Malina should have everything.

Virgil was either at the councils all this time, discussing further robberies, or having fun in the torture chambers with the captured slaves. Luka knew that the space marine was also interested in the girl, although he did not show it.

Never mind, soon Virgil would stop acting like a proud man and would also adore the girl. Luka knew his friend well, even if he denied their connection. Unfortunately for him, the lamenter was not going to give him a choice regarding their relationship.

He rarely gave anyone a choice when it came to affection.

A sudden moan pulled Luka out of his dark thoughts and he turned his attention to the waking girl. Malina did it obviously reluctantly after a hard day, but the warm and comfortable bed did its job. In the end, she opened her dark brown eyes. Blinking a couple of times, she stared in surprise at the traitor leaning over her.

“A-Angel?” - the girl said incredulously.

Luka swallowed. He felt himself harden. Sweet, sweet Malina. No, he must not lose her. He must do everything right and then she will stay with him forever. Soft, warm.

Alive.

“Call me Luka.” - the young man clenched his fist tightly, restraining his urge to stroke the girl’s hair. - “You are safe now. No one will touch you again.”

Only at that moment the girl looked around in confusion. The space marine could not decide where to look. At her surprised face or at her thin neck. At everything, perhaps.

“What? Where am I?” - peering into space, the girl listened to the sounds of air supply surrounding her. - “Is that a ship?”

“That’s right, dear. I’m very sorry, but your world has been captured… by heretics. We had to perform an Exterminatus, and took everyone we managed to save with us.” - the young man nervously licked his lips. The arousal from the blatant lie slowly enveloped him. - “This is your new home now.”

“Y-you are so kind, I” - the girl sniffed, trying her best to wipe away unwanted tears. - “Oh, I don’t even know what to say. I-I… what will my duties be?”

“Just cleaning my armor. And Vergil, he is not in the room now. But you will meet soon,” - the young man smiled happily. - “Don’t worry, you will like him. And he will like you too.”

“Allright.” - the girl smiled shyly. - “Oh, um, my name is-”

“Malina.” - Luka quickly interrupted, hoping not to hear the girl’s real name. He had been thinking about it for so long, it suits her so well and he did not want to know her previous name. What if it turns out to be more beautiful? - “This is your new name. All mortals take new names when they join our service. It is tradition.”

The girl blinked at such expressiveness. She hugged her knees and the worn blanket tighter to her chest. Awkwardly shrugging her shoulders and brushing her bangs off her forehead, the girl muttered embarrassedly.

“F-fine. Malina is a very beautiful name.”

Luka bit his lip, hoping to suppress his groan. If only not to scare her and embarrass her even more. She is so cute! So gentle. Sweet, sweet like juicy raspberries, like warm blood~

The girl looked at Luka warily and he cursed under his breath. It seemed that his eyes widened again like a madman. He was so overwhelmed with emotions that it was difficult to control them. But the girl's attention was immediately distracted by the suddenly opened door. A frightened sigh escaped from dry lips and Malina pressed herself against the wall.

Virgil, who returned to the quarters, was the embodiment of chaos. Pale gray skin was covered with several scars. Two of the largest and deepest were located along the nose and lip to the cheek on the left side of his face. His bright red eyes, white eyebrows and pointed teeth stood out brightly against his bald head and skull.

The black and red armor was covered in someone else's blood, and on his belt there was a new cut piece of flesh with the unfortunate man's face standing out on it. And that's not even mentioning the three skulls hanging on a stake behind his back. To put it simply, Virgil looked like a real heretic and definitely wasn't going to change his image.

Hmm, they somehow didn't think of that.

"Look who woke up~" - the chaosite who entered slowly stretched out the words. The black tongue in his mouth made it seem as if the man didn't have one at all.

The girl trembled and pressed a piece of cloth to her heart, looking at the Lamenter with hope. As her savior. A hero. An angel. And, oh, Luka was going to enjoy this role to the fullest.

"And here's Virgil! Don't be afraid, he may look like a butcher, but he won't hurt you.” - the smiling man soothingly stroked Malina's legs. - "You know, fighting heretics is exhausting. But all enemies are afraid of him."

“Hah, that’s true. With my arrival, the Imperial Guard praises the God-Emperor, and His enemies commit suicide just to avoid falling into my hands.” - the man grinned evilly, closing the door behind him. Black gloves gently stroked one of the skulls. - “These ones were unlucky.”

Still, although Virgil did not try very hard to pretend to be a servant of the Corpse on the Throne, it was impossible to deny at least some attempts. And yet, Luka could not help but feel nervous, looking at the Red Corsairs’ insignia on his belt (the Flesh Tearers’ insignia was still on his shoulder pad).

The Lamenter was one of the few who had not completely changed his armor, adding only a couple of distinctive elements. That’s why Malina took him for a loyalist. But Virgil…

However, the still frightened girl relaxed a little.

"S-sorry, our world was only visited once by Space Marines to replenish supplies. The Lamenters. The other legions, um, were unknown to us. My planet is not the most important in agriculture. So your arrival was a real blessing." - the girl awkwardly glanced at the red-eyed man, preferring to look at her knees. - "Again, m-my apologies."

It is fate. It is definitely fate.

Even Virgil looked at Malina with interest. Despite the fact that it was he who came up with the idea of ​​playing the role of loyalists, it seems he thought that the girl would quickly figure them out. But it seems she was too naive. Or maybe they were just too good at pretending.

“It’s fine, we understand.” - the young man almost switched to a whisper, calming the captive. - “As I said, you just need to clean our armor from blood. Well, and clean the quarters. You will have everything you need. But you must not leave this room.”

“It’s too dangerous on the flagship.” - Virgil joined the lamenter. - “We constantly have to fight heretics and go to not the most rosy places. Someone like you can easily be trampled or sent to hard work, without paying attention to the one you serve.”

“You can even hear not the most pleasant sounds.” - the blond spoke. - “Screams and pleas for help. Sometimes it comes down to real carnage, hah. We have to interrogate our enemies. And, um, Sanguinius' gift has its... flaws. We have to, well. You see-"

"We drink human blood."

"Yes, that's right. We drink human blood. It's the Black Thirst. But it's that rage that makes us so good at fighting heretics." - The young man raised his hands in a calming gesture as he saw Malina's wide eyes. - "Don't worry, everyone gives their blood willingly."

What a blatant lie.

“Everyone must pay their duty to the Imperium. Each in their own way. But your fate is far better than others.” - Virgil chuckled darkly, stepping closer despite Luke’s displeasure. - “Isn’t that so?”

And of course, at that moment, a heartbreaking scream was heard in one of the corridors. Luka involuntarily cringed, holding back his growing rage. Why, why, was everyone trying to ruin his plans for Malina? He had tried so hard.

The hoarse screams of the unfortunate victim, unable to ask for help (let alone the pointlessness of doing so) eventually began to fade. The telltale sounds of broken bones and slimy slop told of the foolish mortal being caught and dragged across the floor back to the quarters for more fun.

Luka stared at the terrified Malina. The poor thing stared at the door before glancing at her two masters. The men looked at the captive expectantly, waiting for her reaction. Partly enjoying her beautiful, terrified look. Partly nervous. Would she scream? Beg them to let her go? Had she realized that she had fallen into the hands of the warriors who had destroyed her world?

No, no, not now, not Malina. He had come to terms with the deaths of other mortals. But she was special, he had saved her, she had almost believed their lies about the God-Emperor. Everything was going so well. He didn't want to kill her.

He already loved her so much.

"I get it. I-" the girl whispered, sobbing. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She pulled her knees up tighter, wrapping herself in the blanket like a cocoon. - "I'll be here."

Luka sighed with relief. Unable to contain his emotions, he nevertheless allowed himself to hug Malina. A massive gloved hand gently stroked the back of the quietly crying girl. Virgil stood nearby like a statue, watching this picture with interest. One thought arose in both of their heads.

Such a good girl.

[tralalalalally]

Some sketches of headcanons for Maedhros' body-type, tattoos, and scars.

I will give a warning for talk on poor mental and physical health before my notes:

. His body-type in particular is something he specifically works for - before Thangorodrim I think he had the more stereotypical elf-prince body (his mother-name is "well-formed", yes?) - something classically desireable. After his capture, the mix of starvation and hard physical labour made him unhealthily lean. After being rescued he was able to build up body fat again, but instead of regaining his old body he works for this new one. Something undeniably strong, untouchable, a warriors body further exaggerated. Not only does he want to distance himself from the perfection of the old him, he wants to make sure noone looking at him could see him as weak. I doubt he'd remember at least the first few months after his rescue well, but from what he does, he feels ashamed. Hiding, cowing away in fear like a child, striking out at those trying to help, revealing far too much of his trauma from the enemy. Emotion becomes a weakness to him, and he learns to control that, but then as he heals further he seeks control over his body too. I think he might eventually see himself - both body and soul - like a project similar to the construction and ruling of Himring. Especially I imagine a disconnect from his body - it is something to be built up, made strong and impenetrable, anything to not be harmed and tormented again.

. The most important scars for my headcanon (other than his missing hand of course) are the brand on his shoulder and the whip marks on his back. The brand effects him the most, and is something he covers as much as possible. None would know about it other than Findekano, Makalaure, and a few healers. Unfortunately due to it being raised, it cannot be tattooed over (nor do I think he'd be able to sit through any tattoos). I am thinking of designing some type of clothing that would essentially be part of his underwear, something that would keep it covered as often as possible - goes over the shoulder, wrapping around his body to beneath the right arm pit?

For the whip scars - when first brought to Thangorodrim he would sometimes be put to work with the other thralls. This was meant to be demoralising, the thralls seeing their prince/king reduced to this, and to show Maedhros how much had been taken from him. Of course the scars healed poorly and were often infected (I think with the brand, it may have been purposefully aggravated to make the scarring worse), though due to his positioning he got enough medical care to keep him alive. Now that he is free they still give him trouble - mobility issues from ones that cut into muscle, and the scarring itself makes the flesh stiff and less flexible. There is also a lack of feeling for most of the area.

. Tattoos - I honestly don't have any real sure designs or positioning fro them. My main thought was the vision of a tattoo of the 8 pointed star, broken up and faded due to scarring caused at Thangorodrim. You can still tell what the tattoo is of, but it has undeniably been damaged. I think I'd like to design for him a large back tattoo - star of Feanor in the middle, with other references surrounding it. Then, of course, the whip scars on top.

(Ah, and for body hair: I imagine elves can grow it, just usually not as thick. I think I remember reading that some can grow beards in old age? (As with Cirdan), so why not the same for body hair lol. I mean, humans also only get most after puberty)

[headcanons-n-shit]

Hi! I love love love you writing! (I've been here all morning, my chores are not getting done lol) Can we get the boys (tm) reacting to/taking care of a WoL who's sick? Like something that requires them to stay in bed and actually rest, something I imagine most WoL's aren't very good at lol maybe a lost, scratchy voice or something too pls <3

Look at these boys, taking care of their poor little meow meow lmao

ff14 boys (tm) taking care of a sick WoL:

Thancred needles you gleefully, but it's playful. What isn't playful is the way he's handling you. Damn but you always forget how strong he is. Easily lifting you off your staggering feet and into bed, from your bed to a bath and back. propping you up with one arm to tip medicine down your throat. A strong, weathered hand checking your temperature, patting your cheek, brushing your hair back so he can lay a cool cloth across your forehead.

In that hazy space between sleep and awake, you think you might even hear him singing to you, low and sweet. It's. Probably just the fever though.

Urianger isn't going to say that he warned you, but. Well. He did kind of warn you.

He doesn't rub it in, either. No, instead he's almost infuriatingly patient with you. When he's easing you into taking foul-tasting medicines, when he's bundling you up in blankets, when he's feeding you soups without letting you so much as lift a finger. He even reads to you-- mostly just dry historical texts that have you dozing off within minutes. It's the best rest you've ever had in your life, and you wake up feeling more alive than ever.

And THEN he will tell you that he warned you :)

G'raha seems like the kind of person who might panic and run around like a chicken with his head cut off. And he might have been, at one point. But he's an older soul now, with experience with a much tougher patient than you: a young Lyna.

He's kind, and gentle, but firm. Yes, you do need to stay in bed. No, you cannot get up. No, he is not going to bring your paperwork or needlework to your bed for you, but he will happily fetch a book for you to read, the new Heavensward memoir perhaps? Yes, you have to take the medicine, but yes you can also have a hot cocoa to chase the taste away.

Estinien stares at you where you're leaning on your lance. You stare at him. He raises an eyebrow. You look away. You can't even give a good excuse-- your voice went out about an hour ago, and you don't have the energy to croak words out around the frog in your throat.

He sighs, scoops you up despite your largely-mute protests, and carries your sorry ass back to the Forgotten Knight. He's no healer, but he remembers the very basics: a roaring fire, hot soup, soothing tea, and rest. It's hard for him, too, he'll freely admit. It feels like there's so much to do, and resting feels like a waste of time.

But if you keep working a damaged muscle, you'll just hurt it further, he reminds you, and helps you with your first few bites of soup. You have to rest, so that, at least if you don't come out the other side stronger, you come out the other side alive.

Aymeric seems calm and composed, but he is 100% internally a screaming chicken. He's already called on the best chirurgeons who would answer, gotten you the best of the medicines they recommended, helped his cooks prepare your favorite meal. All that is left is to wait, and. Aymeric is a strategist, he's good at the long game, but.

He lingers in the door to your room. In your comfy bed, all bundled up in warm blankets, you look so. small. Not the Warrior of Light, not his stalwart friend, but just. A person. Who gets sick. Who he might lose. And that. Scares him. More than a little.

You lift your head and blearily blink at him, and then your chapped mouth pulls into a smile. You pat the edge of your bed next to you for him to sit.

"Tell me about your day?" you croak.

And he takes your hand, and he does.

Haurchefant shakes his head fondly as he moves to help you off the floor where you've fallen.

There was a short period of time when he was really, truly worried for you. When you had just woken up into the new reality of your life, your blank eyes staring at the space where you arm had once been. It's hard, he understands, for a warrior to lose so much of what had once defined them.

But you've still got your fire, to his relief and his chagrin, spitting and cursing and wiggling as he settles you back into bed and flops his entire not-insignificant weight on top of you.

"Hush, now," he says, his mouth right next to your ear, one hand coming up to curl, warm and heavy, around the back of your neck. You're still running a fever, he notes idly, but it's certainly better than it was before. "I think we've earned a spell of rest, don't you?"

Sidurgu freezes at the first cough that rattles through your chest. The memories rise horrifying and unbidden, of coughs that echo in armor, of shaking hands and failing strength and nights hungry, trembling, curled around each other in a desperate bid of warmth, terrified of falling asleep because he doesn't want to wake up to a frozen corpse next to him. And Fray lived, sure, but the cold in their bones never did leave them, not until the day they--

But this is now, he reminds himself, and you are not Fray. There is gil for medicine AND for food, and even for a warm place to sleep. There is Rielle, diligently studying her conjury and happy for a real, live patient to practice on, falling asleep against your chest not because she exhausted herself, but because the hour grew late and she, bored.

How terrifying it is for a Dark Knight to know peace, he thinks as he carefully repositions her so that she is not putting so much weight on your sick lungs. As he brushes your hair from your forehead and places a single kiss there before replacing the cold compress.

How terrifying, and how wonderful.

BONUS

Erenville has this way about him that is undeniably guilt-inducing. The kind of demeanor that reminds you of clucking mothers and worried-looking fathers, all with his hands on his hips and a single eyebrow raised, and you don't even have the voice to argue with him as he takes you by the hand and half-drags you back to his room.

In a city full of scholars, doctors, and healers, he gripes, and you couldn't find your way to any of them? What if you had gotten hurt? or accidentally gotten someone else sick? or spread something to the delicate denizens of labyrinthos?

But you can sense the very real concern for you, beneath his scathing tone. In the way he keeps one hand on your chest to feel your breathing, the other on your wrist to monitor your pulse. The way he takes you to his home-- not the shoddy room the forum gives to any gleaner, but to the one he's build in the Golmorean section of labyrinthos-- and keeps you there until you get better.

[earako]

Actually hang on I like library uncle and actually have an idea now hang on

-/-

Ballister was by no means a fighter. But life on the streets, living in the lower castes, it taught him how to scrap when needed. It wasn't elegant or show boaty but it kept him alive.

And now it looked like he needed to unleash his street urchin ubringing for the sake of the child who burst into his library crying for help.

He barked out an order for the patrons to get the kid behind his desk. Meanwhile, Ballister grabbed the metal baseball bat he kept stashed under his desk, lept over it, and just managed to clock what seemed like the leading man in the group that was chasing the poor child.

Again, Ballister was not a proper fighter. He was observant though.

Over the years Ballister analyzed the different ways he saw people defend themselves. He swung his bat like a sword while still utilizing kicks, punches, and headbutts, a bastardization of the institutes fighting style mixed with what Ballister saw in street brawls. And as messy as it was, it was effective.

The group after the kid eventually gave up and ran out of the library, cursing Ballister and threatening to burn the library down.

From the corner of his eye Ballister noticed phones recording. Good. He might need those recordings later.

Okay, now that the immediate danger was taken care of best to make sure the kid's alright. He leaned his bat against one of the shelves and slowly walked up to the kid, crouching infront of them.

Wait.

Ah, figures. From the clothes alone Ballister could tell the kid was a noble. He motioned to the phone he kept behind his desk. "Is there anyone you can call to pick you up?" The kid just stared at Ballister, silent for a few moments before a large grin formed on their face.

"That was awesome!" The kid cried, and where those stars in their eyes? "That was so cool! You were all bamp! wham! And-and then you kicked their legs and there were three of them on you and mister are you a knight?!?!"

Ballister stifled a laugh into his hand. Him? A knight? Oh that's just adorable.

"No, no," Ballister said through small laughs, "I'm just a librarian who grew up in a tough area." The kid eyed Ballister with what looked like skepticism. "...Are you sure you're not an undercover knight?"

"No, I assure you, just a one armed librarian," Ballister said while waving at the kid with his prosthetic. Before the kid could get excited over that, Ballister asked again if there was a number the kid could call.

"We can also wave down-" as if summoned, a knight came bursting into the library. Ballister frowned, first the kidnappers now the knights?

"I'd appreciate it if you refrained from damaging my doors any further," Ballister said, arms crossed and not quite glaring at the knights though his expression was more....reserved than usual.

The knight that had kicked down his door scoffed and went to advance onto Ballister when an arm was held across his chest to stop him. "You are a knight, not a school yard jock. Act like it, Sureblade" hissed a knight in golden armour-hang on.

Golden armour.

Bleach blonde hair.

The crest on his armour.

This was Ambrosius Goldenloin.

Hm. So the Golden boy wasn't afraid to do the dirty work.

Now, Ballister didn't quite dislike Sir Goldenloin, he just seemed mor of the type who would rather spend their time starring in advertisements, or prancing around a stadium while adoring fans chanted his name was over and over and over again.

"Sir Goldenloin!" Ballister's attention snapped back to the child...who seemed to be attempting an imitation of Ballister when he leapt over the desk. The child tripped and would have fallen flat on their face had Ballister not quickly caught them, clutching the child against his chest as his heart raced.

"How about we keep our legs on the ground, hm?"

"But you did it earlier!" The child protested. Ballister sighed and placed the child down. The kid wasn't one of his regulars, really it wasn't his place to scold them....

"Did what?" Sir Goldenloin asked, stepping closer to where Ballister and the kid stood. The other knights made to follow but Sir Goldenoin held out an arm again, probably signalling them to stay back and to let Sir Goldenloin handle the situation.

"Oh! Oh you shoulda seen the mister, Sir Goldenloin!"

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

"Hey now-there's no need-"

"The men who took me-mister librarian jumped over the desk and used the baseball bat to fight-"

"It's less impressive than it sounds-"

"And he was swinging and kicking and three guys were on him-" All Ballister could do was bury his face in his hands as the child gushed over his supposedly 'heroic' actions.

Ballister's skin tone may be on the darker side but he was certain his blush could be seen through his hands.

"Well, that sounds like quite the ordeal. Why don't you head back with the other knights while I talk to Mr.Librarian here?" Ballister's head shot up. Right, the knights probably needed him to report the kidnapping. He briefly glanced at the security cameras and wondered if they'd be enough. Maybe he could ask for some of the phone recordings too...

"Bye Mr.Librarian" The child yelled as they headed back to the knights. Ballister smiled and waved back. "Take care now, and be careful next time!" He called after the child and the knights.

The kid was lucky this time...Ballister shuddered to think of what could've been. If the kid hadn't thought to duck into the library....

"So...do you actually have a name, Mr.Librarian?

"Oh, right! Apologies. Ballister Blackheart." Sir Goldenloins brow furrowed at Ballister's last name.

"Rather odd surname." Ballister frowned. If he had less self-preservation he'd have made a comment about Sir Goldenloin's own name...he couldn't afford to aggrevate the knights.

After all, he was just a commoner.

Right, time to give Goldie what he's looking for. " I can give a description of the group who kidnapped the kid along with video surveillance footage. I also saw some phones recording, I can ask them for footage as well. I assume I'll also be asked to file a kidnapping report, I have the files ready to download and can fill them out now if you'd like."

Sir Goldenloin blinked at Ballister. "You...seem very well prepared for these sort of situations."

"It's sadly not uncommon for people to flee here for safety," Ballister sighed. "It's...well, I'm just glad no one got hurt."

"Right, right. I'd like to see those tapes? And interview you if thats alright?"

Hm...Sir Goldenloin was certainly...different from the other knights.

He was stating everything as a question rather than an order. Then again, Sir Goldenloins knighting ceremony was only just this month. Maybe it's because he's still fairly new.

"Sure. If you'll follow me this way." The golden knight trailed after Ballister and leaned over his shoulder as he filled out the reports and retrieved the video surveillance footage.

He had to stop himself from being distracted by the scent of lavender.

This was just business.

It didn't mean anything.

[sugarpsalms]

needed an emotional boost before getting ready for my shift today so I added a little bit to my law & doffy doc, feed the living and bury the dead! Snippet below. I'm really enjoying how this high stakes couch surfer storyline is going. Law might not be having a good time, but me and doffy are :)

—

The morning light was sharpening by the time the water boiled. Law snatched the kettle off the burner before it screamed and poured it over the prepared coffee slowly, watching it drip until he had a full, steaming pot. He fixed his cup, leaving the rest of the stove to keep warm, then went back to the hearth.

While he nursed it, he kept his attention fixed on his unwanted company. Doflamingo hadn’t stirred yet, even though an hour had passed and Law hadn’t bothered with being quiet. It was astounding how well he could sleep in the presence of an enemy.

Law revisited the idea that Doflamingo might’ve arrived dead on his feet. A quick once-over showed that he was worse for wear. He was thinner than he ought to be, some of his muscles eaten away, gaunt instead of sharp in the face; concerningly lean. His color was poor and his hair was shaggy, and his clothes and shoes were tattered. There were new scars banding his wrists, also, with ones to match on his ankles.

Prison had done a number on him and living on the run obviously hadn’t helped. Doflamingo was several steps down from his physical peak, and Law wouldn’t be surprised if something was wrong inside of him as well.

There’s a thought. He was a doctor, after all, and this was—for the moment—his house. He put his coffee down and shrugged out of his blanket, leaving both by the fire. He padded over to the couch, opened a Room, and performed a scan, searching Doflamingo’s insides for signs of damage.

Individually, the injuries were insignificant: some bruised bones here, some strained muscles there, a few points of mild inflammation. No major cause for concern, but Law could see how they’d be exhausting. Without proper nutrition, a consistent sleep schedule, and time to heal, they’d cause a low-grade constant pain, affecting how Doflamingo moved. And that would put strain on the rest of his body, risking, by way of stress, further injury. Little things like that could stack quickly, if a patient wasn’t careful.

Patient: the word smacked Law hard across the jaw. He recoiled and let the Room fall away, closing Doflamingo’s body. He was so distracted by the thought that he didn’t notice the change in Doflamingo’s breathing or the fact that he’d uncovered an eye until he said, “That would’ve been the time to do it.”

[thekrows-nest]

Fun facts?

Is Krow’s top a one piece hoodie with different coloured sleeves and hood, or is it like a scrub top layered over a black hoodie?

(I’ve seen green hoodies with black and white striped sleeves but also plain black hoodies with sleeve stripes so don’t know.

I’m getting scrubs vibes off the green part despite the fact Krow would likely only wear that for art, work or ’other’.

If that’s a separate layer maybe it’s not scrubs but still to protect his clothes from general dirt and wear? Or just for warmth. But it doesn’t look like a vest or any separate casual garment I’ve seen.)

Are Krow’s pants blue work slacks or denim jeans?

Does Krow trim his own hair at home or pay someone else?

What is the thing he hates the most about his house, and what is a perk that sometimes makes it feel ok?

Would Krow rather accept a ripe mango or tomato from Eliyah, or something gross from Dove? (Idk maybe they’re a terrible cook/barista or didn’t notice the food had spoiled)

Ps. I’ve fallen into using he/him for Krow as frequently using two ‘thems’ gets confusing. (Dove is either an enby too or gender hasn’t been chosen.) But that can change if Krow really prefers to go by they/them

So the hoodie is meant to be one piece of clothing, sewn together as one thing. The paint splatters are since... it's his main and favorite hoodie. He doesn't mind the paint getting on since, to him, it adds character, and isn't really "hurting" the hoodie. Generally it's for comfort and warmth.

More under the cut!

Ya know, I think in my head that when I drew his pants that they were jeans but looking at them again they don't... really look quite like jeans. So they're really probably some poor beat up, paint splattered slacks lmao.

Oh Krow trims his own hair. He's really not picky about his hair and doesn't see a need to pay someone to do it. He'd rather his money go elsewhere. (Although if Dove were a hair stylist, that's a different story.)

Hmm... the thing he probably hates the most about his house... Probably pests likely. Depending on them they can cause further damage to the house and some of the work/repairs he's done, but also they're just... annoying. This would go for any veggies he grows too. He may have bought ladybugs and mantis's to dump in the garden for some natural pest control ha ha.

The perk he likes is both the seclusion (he is able to do art and all in relative peace) and the... secret rooms in the house are also a perk. He mostly lives in them, and can hole up in them if he gets unwanted visitors and they really wouldn't be able to find him.

Logically he should go for the mango or tomato but Krow also has some pride, so he'd rather accept whatever gross thing from Dove than even the tastiest mango from Eliyah.

Krow really doesn't mind he/him! He does like it when peeps use they/them at least occasionally but he really won't get upset or anything. :3

[mileycyprus-hill]

Barbells and Barstools

Arthur Morgan x Female Reader

Summary: So, yeah this is totally not a self-indulgent fic at all *cough cough*. Reader is an Olympic-level strongwoman who travels with Miss Marjorie's Medical Miracles troupe. Being overprotective of simple-minded Bertram, you find yourself looking for a fight with the man who beat him up at the Van Horn saloon. Things take a turn as you and Arthur find yourselves quickly turning from enemies to lovers.

Warnings: violence, mature language. Part 2 gets steamy.

…………………………

You burst through the rotting door of the old Van Horn saloon, your cheeks hot and teeth clenched hard.

"Alright, who's the asshole who thinks he can beat up a poor simpleton!" You bellow as you push the saloon doors with such force, one of them cracks as it bangs against the wall.

A silence falls upon the saloon, which is unsurprising given the lack of clientele in this filthy establishment. All at once the eyes of the haggard labor men look to you. Once they glance at the sight of your tall frame blocking the doorway they quickly avert their gazes to their cloudy and nearly empty glasses.

You remain standing with your hands placed at your hips and feet apart on the dusty floor. A gust of wind behind you blows a stray hair from your braid onto your flushed cheek. Dust blows onto the floor, which is indistinguishable beneath the thick layer of dirt.

A deep and hoarse voice answers from your right, towards the bar.

"That would be me," says the voice.

With a scowl painted on your dry lips and sweaty brow, you dart your eyes over to the bar. A man of similar height to yourself leans forward on the bar in worn and dusty clothes. Upon his head he wears a black leather hat, scuffed and dirty. His face is hidden from view until he finally raises his head. Steely eyes glare at you from beneath the wide brim of his hat.

"Shit." You breathe in a frustrated whisper that's as silent as the wind. You notice the black eye already forming on the man's face and the beer bottle held to his reddened cheek.

The man is barrel-chested and his shoulders are broad beneath a light blue, cotton button-down shirt that tapers into a loose tuck in his lean waisted pants. The sleeves are rolled to his elbows to expose his pale, thick forearms. No doubt this man packs a punch hard enough to knock back the mighty Bertram.

However, what this man may not know is that while Bertram lacks speed in favor of brute force, you carry the skills of both agility and strength. Upon further inspection, it also appears that Bertram has worn this bastard out, as you watch the man continue to catch his breath while leaning on the bar counter. This lesson you plan to teach him should be quick, you think to yourself.

Appearing annoyed from under your scrutinizing gaze, the tired man speaks from across the bar, "And before you start throwing fists at me, I'll have you know, he started it."

"He doesn't know any better!" You defend with heated venom on your tongue. Walking closer to him, you scold, "He's got the mind of a child."

You cross the hollow parlor in just a few strides of your long legs. Broken shards of glass crackle against the dirty floor beneath your feet. Your thumbs rub against your index fingers anxiously as your arms swing at your sides.

The man exclaims with a snarl, "That ain't no excuse! He nearly killed the barman, not to mention myself!"

He points to his own beaten face with a hand that's equally bruised and slightly bloodied as you had seen Bertram's.

The barman behind the counter raises his palms, "Now listen! If you two wanna continue this, then do it outside. I don't want any more damage to my place!"

The two of you ignore the barman pointing to the broken glass and splintered wood that litters his floor.

"I'm staying right here." The tired man says, promptly ignoring you to sit himself on a rickety stool beside him. "I ain't done anythin' wrong."

With a barely audible scoff, you cock your head to the side and watch him slowly blink his eyes.

"Guess again, asshole." You lunge forward and grab the front of the man's shirt. Like a heavy sack of potatoes, you yank him off the chair towards you. You need only to drag him a few feet towards the door before you turn on your back leg and toss him through the saloon doors with minimal effort.

~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur felt his feet float beneath him as you grasped his shirt and pulled him away from the bar counter. His breath caught in his throat and before he realized what had happened, he found himself stumbling through the doors of the saloon into the street.

"Shit!" Arthur yells, swinging his arms to balance and prevent himself from falling face forward onto the dirt.

Arthur thought you looked big, but assumed it was just his perspective from the barstool. Jesus, the last time someone threw him like that it was through the bar window in Valentine, and that man was a giant.

How far was he from the door when he sat on the stool? You threw him further than he could spit, which is a considerable distance.

He hears the doors swing open again and turns to watch you stomp outside to the street. In the bright afternoon light, he's finally able to get a better look at your frame.

By god, you're the brawniest woman he's ever laid eyes on.

The tight, pine colored trousers tucked into your leather boots do you no favors in hiding your thick, hard thighs and brawny backside. A dark brown belt cinches your stocky waist and tucks your tailored, ruffled white blouse into your trousers. You push the long linen sleeves of your shirt up past your elbows to expose your chiseled forearms. Your rounded biceps and wide shoulders flex underneath the light fabric. All of the buttons of your blouse are done except for the first three of the top, showcasing your jutting collarbones in contrast to your buxom chest.

In Arthur's moment of awe-struck weakness, that chest of yours is suddenly directly in front of his face. You grab him again by the front of his shirt, lift him up onto his toes, and forcefully push him to the ground. He lands flat on his back with your hands still entangled in his shirt while you kneel over him. The air escapes his lungs from the impact and he gasps like a fish out of water. A tightened fist hangs above his face and threatens to come crashing down on his chin.

Instinctively, Arthur stops you by grabbing your fist with one hand and wrapping around your wrist with the other.

"Goddammit, she told me to do it!" Arthur shouts. He kicks his heels against the dirt beneath you. Your knee is pressed against his lower stomach, just above his groin, pushing your weight upon him. Your other leg is outstretched to your side, steadying you while he attempts to push you off of him.

Visions of the muddy street in Valentine flash through Arthur's mind as he holds back your fist with both hands. Memories of a brute named Tommy shoving his face in the mud cause his heart to beat at a panicked rate.

With your fist immobilized, you reach with your other hand to wrap his throat. Arthur feels your powerful fingers grip tightly around his own thick neck. The base of your thumb presses against his bulging Adam's apple.

He kicks his feet and thrusts his hips in a manic attempt to buck you off, but no matter how much he pushes, his strength is evenly matched. In a panic, he sacrifices the holding strength of one hand from your wrist to reach for your hair. Calloused fingers interlaced with silky fibers of hair, he curls his fingers closed and pulls downward.

Goddammit, it only makes your grip tighter on him. You shake your fist free from the hold of his hand and wrap it around his throat. He pulls your head closer to his. You don't make a yelp or a cry at his pull on your scalp, only an angry growl through your tight lips as you stare into his eyes.

His eyes begin to water until your hand quickly loosens its grip at the sound of a pleading voice.

The voice is deep yet has the meekness of a small child.

"Don't, (Y/N)! He'll hurt you!" The voice begs you.

You both turn, locked in your position with Arthur's hand in your hair and your hands around his neck. You both look to see Bertram standing there, hands raised and shaking. His face is cringed with worry and sadness.

Noting your distraction, Arthur takes his opportunity to strike a swift punch to your ribs. You exclaim in shock instead of pain, despite how hard he struck against your side. Nevertheless, he rolls you over to the ground and straddles your waist, grabbing both of your hands and holding them by your head to pin you beneath him.

Arthur stares into your angry eyes and warns, "Listen! Now, I don't want more trouble for beating a nitwit and a woman, but if you don't--"

Bertram cries again, "No! Don't hurt her!"

Bertram takes two steps towards the both of you as you wiggle against each other for dominance before a shrill whistle cuts through the air like a steam train through the open plains.

The three of you cinch your eyes shut and cringe at the intrusive sound. Poor Bertram stands with his hands covering his ears, nearly buckling over in pain.

A familiar, scrawny woman rushes to you and Arthur in quick steps with a small silver whistle in her mouth. Arthur keeps his full weight on top of you with your hands still pinned to the ground.

Spitting the whistle from her lips, Miss Marjorie shouts, "Enough! Can't I turn around for one minute without you getting us into trouble again?"

Arthur turns his attention from Miss Marjorie down to you, then back to her. He realizes her anger is solely directed towards you, as he feels you release the tension in your arms and sigh. Turning his gaze to you once more, he watches your eyes clench shut and lips tighten in frustration. You refuse to look back up at Marjorie who glares down at you with her hands on her hips like an angry mother to her troublesome child.

Miss Marjorie continues, "Your job is to find that little bastard Magnifico, but here I find you fighting this poor gentleman who was only helping me just moments ago!"

"You call that helping?" You retort, lifting your head and pointing with your eyes over to Bertram's bruised face, who maintains his distance from the three of you and attempts to cover his face with his hands in shame.

Arthur's gravelly voice rises in pitch in response, "What else was I supposed to do? Fight him with my words?"

He feels your body tense again as his words incensed you. Your nostrils flare and your bright eyes cut him down as if he were nothing but a rabid mongrel deserved to be put down.

Through his arms and legs, Arthur feels the seething rage return to your muscled body and he tightens his grip on your wrists in response. His thighs pinch your ribs, as if steadying himself on top a wild mustang who refuses to be broke. The two of you stare into each other's eyes, waiting for the other to relent and turn away or even blink.

Suddenly, Arthur can't help but let a smirk pull at the corner of his lips. The sight of you laying pinned beneath him in the dirt, cheeks red hot in fury and eyes of steel piercing through him, it makes his own cheeks flush with a warm desire from the depths of his hardened heart.

He's won this wrestling match, he thinks, but you refuse to admit to defeat despite him holding you down with all his weight and Miss Marjorie watching you from above.

You could easily push him off of you, he thinks. As effortless as it was for you to toss him like a bale of hay, it should be no different now to simply buck him off like a wild mare.

So why haven't you?

He finds it amusing, seeing you so angry like this and holding yourself back to avoid further rebuke from your matriarch. He relaxes his furrowed eyebrows and crinkled nose. His smirk pulls higher at his lips now as he watches your hot-tempered stare cool down to confusion. Your well-manicured eyebrow quirks up and your eyes slightly widen in distrust to his smile. Your bosom that was once rising and falling in deep, angry breaths has now paused. Slowly, you let out a shallow and reluctant exhale from your nose. Your lips remain tightly pursed. Arthur notices the subtle cock of your head against the ground, like that of a perplexed puppy.

Your gazes both remain locked as Miss Marjorie speaks, "I am sorry for her behavior Mister, uh...what did you say your name was?"

Arthur unfurls his fingers from your wrists and straightens himself up, sitting back on your hips.

"I didn't," he replies, turning his head to Marjorie before turning back to you. "Arthur Callahan."

Still straddling you, Arthur looks into your eyes and extends a calloused hand to you as an offering.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you raise one arm to receive his hand.

"(Y/N) (L/N). But, most people call me Miss Atlas."

You both grasp the other's hand firmly in a show of strength. You squeeze his hand tightly, and he squeezes back in response. His eyes scan your face for any discomfort from his grip, but he sees only a roguish purse of your lips that barely mimics a smile.

Arthur repeats with a soft, rumbling chuckle, "Atlas...Was 'Lady Hercules' taken?" He gingerly rubs his throat.

He takes a moment to watch your eyes roll in response. Finally, he rises up from you and onto his feet to offer you a helping hand, to which you ignore and stand yourself up with a small grunt and brush away the dust from your clothes. What you don't ignore though, is Arthur's attempt to sneak a quick glance at your plump backside. He feels you stare at him, angry and confused at his lewd gaze, as if he's a randy teenage boy who's been caught peeping.

Miss Marjorie speaks up between you two with urgency, "Well! Now we're all properly introduced and can be friendly again, perhaps you won't mind Mr. Callahan helping you find Magnifico?"

Snapping your head towards her with a glare, you state firmly, "I can handle it. I don't need--"

"I'd be happy to help, ma'am." Arthur replies, ignoring your attempt to dissuade her.

He doesn't face you, but he peers at you through the corners of his eyes. You stare at him with such heat in your glare that he'd be surprised he doesn't burst into flames at this very moment.

Another crooked smirk falls upon his lips and he quirks a brow as if to mock your boiling frustration. His eyes slowly move in attention to Miss Marjorie.

"Great!" She exclaims happily.

This should be interesting, Arthur thinks to himself.

[fandomchill]

Changeling Au - Tangotek

Tango is a elemental Changeling, specifically of the Will-o-Wisp and Bright one variety. He appears to be a type of Troll, long pointed ears, sharp teeth and glowing red eyes with bronze skin. He has a whip like tail that is mildly prehensile and has a single flame at the end of it. His hair is made of the same fire. Both glow a soft yellow, though they will shift colors and intensity when his emotions take control. He wears smoked goggles to protect his eyes.

Originally chosen for his affinity with fire Tango was put to work as a Forge Flame for the Grand forge. He was placed on the night shift due to his brightness, but since many slept late at night he found himself quiet lonely. He would wander during the night, and often find himself assisting a Certain Goat with his work, allowing him to forge metals in exchange for conversation. This allowed him to form a friendship with Doc, who taught him the work of Runestone Magi-tek. He started tinkering on his own when the others slept, and soon he worked up the courage to ask for his position to be switched to Lab assistant. From there under the tutelage of Doc he worked his way to the Second in command.

Tango is a firebrand, bright and sunny unless you get his temper riled up. He loves to make weapons and armor for his friends, along with devious dungeons to test them in. He's fairly intelligent, though a bit scatterbrained. He rarely uses technical terms, preferring to use his own language for his tools and supplies, which annoys his boss.

Always ready for a good fight, despite hIs more back room role, he occasionally will join the guard on patrols.

Tango's wish is one he is willing to talk about. He knows that he wanted to stick with his friends and help those who were also going after wishes. Problem is he doesn't remember who. He realizes that not knowing is part of his payment, and is willing to endure the uncertainty because he knows the Gentry have to fulfill the wish.

Rank- Second in command for Research and development for the Grand Forge

Power:- Tango can at will create a blinding flash that can cause damage and stun those around him. Further he can "steal" light by forcing people to have minor poor luck around him. He must be able to see them and concentrate for a moment to use the power, but does not need to touch them.

---

Feel free to Reblog, Like and comment, just always remember to credit me. I do like asks.

[veraynes-blog]

I think I just sent this to someone else by mistake (blushes furiously). After more than a decade, I'm still sorting Tumblr mechanics. Anyway, if you'd like to play the Ten Questions game, answer them, please, about Ten and the Spymaster.

Oooh okay, this is such an interesting one! I immediately have so many thoughts about how the hell that dynamic would work... 🤔

Who’s the cuddler?

Honestly? Both. Ten is in blissed-out heaven because finally - finally! - THIS Master is just about as needy as he is. He'd have to first work his way past the Master's prickly emotional defences, mind, but if anyone is persistent and desperate enough to do so, it's Ten.

Who makes the bed?

Neither of them, very often. They don't have an attention span or sense of propriety between them. On rare occasion, if he's making a special effort to make things nice, Ten is somewhat more likely to make the gesture.

Who wakes up first?

Ten. Well, if they ever got to a place where they relaxed around each other enough to sleep, that is. I think Spymaster is in dire need of someone who'll let him rest, properly, and Ten would be more than willing to do that for him.

Who has the weird taste in music?

Spymaster. I feel like the Rasputin number speaks for itself...

Who is more protective?

Ten. I was going to give another 'poor little meow meow' jokey response, but actually I think Spymaster has a lot of very obvious pain and self-loathing, and Ten would absolutely be compelled to try and protect him from further damage.

Who sings in the shower?

Spymaster.

Who cries during movies?

I earnestly think Spymaster would be more prone to it. For two reasons. 1) He's had more practice at least pretending to be a functioning, empathetic person during his life as O, and actually I wouldn't put it past him to have learned to cry on cue at soppy movies, and 2) He has a lot of Issues, okay. He's a bit fragile. He's the version of the Master who's most in touch with his own feelings, even if those feelings are all sharp, broken things cluttered inside him. If he ever accidentally watches a movie that resonates with him in that way, he's going to fucking pieces.

Who spends the most while out shopping?

I don't think either of them are particularly materialistic. Spymaster might still have access to government credit he's willing to burn through just to cause problems.

Who kisses more roughly?

Ooh. Okay, I apologise if this is verging into TMI, but. I think they're both equally a bit feral with each other. Lots of clinging and grabbing of hair and messy snogging.

Who is more dominant?

Sit tight, this requires context. So. Yes, obviously Spymaster's surface persona is about trying to be aggressively dominant. He tells Thirteen to kneel, chokes her out, etc. But. I always got the vibe he was actually looking for some resistance, there. He wanted the Doctor's attention, and Thirteen passively letting him do whatever was a way of denying him that. Spymaster's whole arc was about his sense of identity crumbling around him, and Thirteen not having the emotional capacity to pick up the pieces (I'm not saying she's wrong for that).

But Ten does have the capacity. Actually, he'd throw himself at the opportunity. I also think Ten has a touch of steel in him that other Doctors don't, and that Spymaster is fraying at the seams in a way that would make it a relief to let someone else take control for a while.

In answer: I think Ten would soft-dom the shit out of Spymaster and they'd both have a wonderful time with it. 😳🙃

My rating of the ship from 1-10.

Russia's Greatest Love Machine out of 10. 😌