#and i kept that up for years. its so so freeing and healing to finally go. no im gonna do what makes me happy. damn all your expectations

[fearforthestorm]

my hair is getting long enough now that when I pin the shorter side back it looks like it's all the same length!! <3

[mellosdrawings]

The Princes

Ten years later. When marrying a Prince turns a Queen and a Servant into actual Royalties.

Because Vil deserves a real crown and Jamil deserves to be treated better.

NOW I'M GONNA RANT ABOUT MY CHARA DESIGNS CHOICES AND ALL THE DISCOVERIES I MADE WHILE LOOKING FOR REFS! If you only care about art and funny doodles, you can scroll down for a handful of slices of life.

(Don't worry if you can't read my notes, I'm repeating myself better right under this)

Leona

-Lion: As you may know, one of my grievances with Leona is how his hair doesn't look like an actual mane despite being a lion. While I don't want to stray too far from the canon design with the usual drawings, that's the occasion for me to have some fun with a future version. Give that lion a beard and voluminous hair!

-Hair: First, get those bangs out of his face. Despite Leona being very confident, he still has bangs covering his scarred eye. I wanted him to finally own the aspects of him that may be scary to others (his UM, his scar, etc). I actually went with bangs framing his face similar to the ones he had during his Overblot. I wasn't sure whether to give him dreadlocks or curly hair, but I ended up choosing the free curls decorated with some atebas and braids so that Vil could have more fun styling them.

-Eye: Thanks @aria-faye for the idea, I decided to have his eye gradually lose its capacities with time. From a headcanon that, while the eye wasn't directly touched by whatever attack scarred him, the process of healing still had an impact on it and he gradually lost sight in his left eye years after years.

-Body: Not giving him a dad bod (yet, maybe in another ten years), but definitely giving him more voluminous yet casual muscles. Practical muscles with a healthy dose of fat and tissues. Also giving him two full sleeves of tattoos because I decided he should have much more than just his lion tattoo.

-Clothes: Went full Maasai dressing and Kenyan fabrics and beadworks. If you're not familiar with it, please go check it out, it's GORGEOUS!! Crown is beadwork too. He also has one Arabic styled foot jewellery.

Jamil

-Hair: My first order was to remove his double-faced hairstyle and also remove his bangs from his eye. Make him confident enough to show his whole face. Unlike Leona and Vil, he doesn't really want a crown though (he still feels weird about becoming royalty) so instead he uses a braid as crown. Also gave him a little goatee because I like facial hair and Jafar has a beard too.

-Body: He grew up! While he didn't quite catch up with Leona and Vil, he is now closer to their sizes than before, sitting at around 180cm. He kept his breakdancer/martial artist lean muscles but developed a bit of shoulders.

-Clothes: Went full Arabic dressing and fabrics (once more, go check the fabrics, they are pieces of arts). I gave him floral motifs instead of his usual fire/snake motifs (though he does have a snake earring and a fangs necklace) to symbolise his rebirth/blooming. Like Leona, he has one piece of jewellery that is beadwork.

Vil

-Hair: Here it was a bit tricky. Considering Vil's work, he likely changes hairstyles a lot, going from long to short for his roles instead of his wants. So I leaned into the little things he could add to his hair despite their constant changes, mostly jewelleries, beadworks and wool decorations he stole from his husbands. He also cares a bit less about them looking perfect and is allowing himself to be more natural. He doesn't have any facial hair (yet), keeping a youthful appearance for as long as he can. In another ten years though, he might start looking more and more like his father, beard included.

-Clothes: For Leona and Jamil's mental states, the three of them most likely started living in Sunset Savanna so they wouldn't freeze to death. Vil is well traveled so he can handle most temperatures without trouble, and he is used to dressing up in the local get ups. Here I decided to give him both African dress and Arabic fabric, and likewise both beadwork and golden jewellery. I gave him crown and heart motifs so he can keep being himself despite borrowing a lot from his husbands.

There, I'm done rambling. Here's some doodles, followed by some random headcanons.

-Vil does his husbands hair every morning and keeps giving them more and more intricate hairstyles. He developed a whole haircare and beard-care products set for them.

-When Vil is away for a movie, Jamil keeps his hair mostly down save for a few accessories.

-Jamil and Falena get along surprisingly well (to Leona's despair). Vil gets along very well with Falena's wife.

-Jamil acts as a Scalding Sands ambassador and still is the one to care for Kalim when he comes to visit, though this time he's doing it because he wants to and not because he has to.

-Vil got used to his new title immediately but Jamil struggles with it a lot. He still has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that he is no longer a servant.

-The servants at the palace love Jamil because he always makes their job easier.

-Leona finally decided to put his wits to good use and became Falena's advisor. He still fights a lot with Kifaji about the direction to take with the country, but he managed to make some of his ideas heard to help with the staggering inequalities in the country.

That's all for now!

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 35

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: violence

Origins

Killer was right about a fuck coma. You slept for the entire rest of the day, until the next morning. Killer had helped you take a bath, getting in himself, though quickly regretting it when he kept having to hold your wrists. He gave you an inch, several actually, and you wanted a mile. He insisted you couldn't take any more after that afternoon, to which you replied by healing yourself completely. He muttered something about being just like Kid and finally convinced you that you needed to take a nap. 

The light coming in through the window made you squint. How long did I sleep? You stretched and groaned. At the foot of Killer's bed, Minerva made a short squeal in greeting. Killer let her sleep here? Your heart squeezed. Pushing yourself up, you noticed that he had also gotten clothes for you, which were neatly folded on the bed. This was so strange. You were unaccustomed to people doing nice things for you of their own will. When you were a captain, you could just tell them to do something for you. 

You came out on deck with your signature coat, having appropriately mended and cleaned it. The sun on your face tickled your cheeks and the wind tugged gently at free strands of hair. You took a moment to enjoy the view, the flat blue horizon, scratching Mini's ear as you did so. You used to have a tri-cornered hat with a feather in it that made you look quite distinguished. It would be perfect to put on now if you still had it. The time between when you left the marines and when you were caught by them were your freest, doing whatever you wanted. It was chaotic, the exact thing you had left your home island for, but perhaps that made you feel some connection to your old home. Maybe you missed the chaos. 

You leaned on the banister, looking down at the water. The waves broke up your reflection as the vessel cut through the water. From this view, you could pretend you were still on Fate's Wraith. It's not like you didn't like it here, it was different though. You weren't the captain here. In some respects it was nice, no responsibilities. On the other hand, you couldn't act as you wanted. You still kind of did, but It helped that the captain's dick had a soft spot for you...hard spot? 

Sighing, you thought about what might have been if nothing had happened to you. Would you have run into the Kid Pirates? What would have happened then? Would you still be hunting marines? Would you have killed Van Kossa and Warthin by now? Would you even still be alive? Maybe your crew would have betrayed you for the highest price no matter who it would have been. If the Kid Pirates fully assimilated you into their crew, would you still dwell on the past? Could you ever let it go? Not until those bastards are dead. 

You woke up in a good mood, a great mood even. Why were you being so nostalgic? It was self-sabotage to make yourself upset with old memories. As a kid, you ran the streets under the guise of being a boy, it was safer that way, begging at first, stealing later. In your teen years, you hung around a rough crowd of girls, unable to hide behind short hair anymore. You protected each other from being sold to slavers and fleshtraders, not always successfully. Soon you were the last one left. The others had either left or were killed. You thought about staying, joining another of the gangs that ran the streets. In the end, you watched a girl a bit younger than you be slaughtered by the gang with the most power at the time. That's when you made your decision to get as far away from there as possible, joining the marines, the opposite of that chaos, the good guys. So much for that. 

Thinking of your younger years and your home island conjured up the words to an old song. The world knew it, although every island had its own variations of the verses. The one on your island was fitting for an island dedicated to crime. You hummed the tune as you stared down into the sea, switching to softly singing the words to yourself when it was time for the verse:

Gather up all of the crew, it's time to steal all Binks' brew. We will go, to where, who knows? The loot will be our guide. Robbed behind the tavern's side. Thieves and bandits far and wide. Whores they sing, of lustful things to pirates passing by.

"Where'd ya learn that?" Something about it itched Kid's mind. 

You jumped, not noticing before that Kid had come up beside you. "Sorry. M'not a good singer." 

"Aye. Stick to yer day job."

The man was honest, no doubt about that. "And what is my day job?" You continued staring forward, fixated on the ocean.

Kid looked at you from the corner of his eye. You were looking at the sea with such a mournful gaze. The softness of your features in the mid-morning sun was new to him. Maybe you knew it, or maybe you didn't, you were always guarded. In truth, in your most vulnerable states, Kid still had trouble completely reading you. He could see you with clarity in this moment, a creature of pure melancholy. There was a part of him that wanted to grab the back of your shirt, considering your demeanor was that of someone who wanted to disappear into the waves. You were so lost.

Kid had been drawn to stand next to you in the first place because he saw you watching the ocean, hair reflecting the sun, coat billowing out behind you, and thought that must be how you looked on your own ship some time ago. He thought you would have the fiery gaze he was accustomed to seeing and was taken aback when your face showed the opposite. He would have retreated, except he was pinned in place when he heard the words that you sang to yourself. 

"Yer the doctor of the Kid Pirates." Kid's hand wavered over your shoulder, before lightly cuffing the back of your head. "Don't be stupid." Kid wasn't good at this kind of thing. He wanted to put a hand on your shoulder as a measure of comfort. Thinking it would be odd coming from him, he changed his mind. What he really wanted to do was pull you into his chest and make you forget about the past.

The two of you stayed there for a minute or two in silence. Kid thought he could see the ghost of a smile on your face, a little less lost.

You turned away from him. "I'll be in the crow's nest." 

So soft he could barely hear it, a "Thanks, Kid" came from your direction as you walked away. It may have been the wind, which seemed like it was picking up.

About an hour or two into your watch, it started pouring rain. Not the best of times to volunteer for this job, though you needed time to yourself. The strong wind had it pelting you, so not only was it cold, it sort of hurt, too, like a hundred little projectiles. Kid knew what he was saying, you don't know if he appropriately thought it through or discussed it with anyone else, but he meant it. You could tell because he immediately followed it with something rude, to balance it out. While the rain hid the fact your cheeks had been streaked with tears, it couldn't hide the red stain around the rim of your eyes. You weren't even entirely sure why you were crying. Probably many reasons, all coming out at once. You had felt better afterward. The emotions had been pent up for some time, it seemed. The harsh rain drops and tumultuous sea mirrored you in a way. 

The fabric of your clothes clung to you, cold and wet. Your hair, though weighed down with water, kept whipping you about the face in the strong wind. The boat's rocking was accentuated by the fact you were farther from the center of rotation up in the air. You kept your station, eyes fixated on the horizon on all sides. There were rocky outcroppings ahead, with enough space for a ship to pass through. It didn't sit right with you. You knew that there would be something waiting in the middle. It was only a hunch, no observation haki to back it up. Call it experience. It appeared that you intended to sail right through it if you didn't say something. 

You climbed about halfway down the mast and jumped the rest of the way to the deck. Yelling from the nest would do no good with the wind howling as it was. The sails had been drawn up, so the wind didn't rip them, or worse, bring the mast down. The waves pushed the ship forward even without the sails. You found Wire at the helm with Killer beside him. 

"Hi, Y/N. Why aren't you at your post?" Killer noticed the redness to your eyes. Now wasn't the time to comment on it.

"I don't think we should continue on this course."

Wire acknowledged you with a nod. "Why not?"

"I can't say for sure. Something isn't right."

"We can take shelter from the wind behind the rocks." 

You shook your head. "This stretch is known for bad weather, but it's short. We can sail right through it in another hour." Your eyebrows knit together. "I think they want us to shelter there." You looked at Killer, trying to convince him. 

"We'll only stop until the wind lets up." Killer looked at Wire. "Storms like this don't last long. I can't sense anything ahead that's suspicious."

You looked at Killer, disappointed that they trusted you enough to follow the map you drew, but not enough to take this advice. Maybe you were overreacting and it was nothing. The feeling in your gut told you otherwise. You couldn't argue more without a solid reason. You were doing your best to fall in line, especially with the olive branch Kid extended to you earlier. You gave him a short nod of understanding, though repeating, "I really have a bad feeling." Sometimes trusting your gut trumped observation haki, but you did trust Killer. 

You returned to your spot in the crow's nest, not before grabbing a rifle and a few explosives. If things turned sour, you wanted to be prepared. Using your power, you merged the rifle's bullets with the explosives. It would either blow up in your face or work as intended, exploding bullets. Your gunblade wasn't as good with long range shots, and neither were you. Actually, they probably shouldn't have let your visually impaired ass in the crow's nest to begin with. Minerva stood vigilantly at the base of the mast, as you asked her to. 

In a shorter amount of time than you would have liked, the ship approached the gap in the outcroppings. The water between them was calm, as Wire expected. There weren't any ships there that you could see. You learned a while back that there were a series of metal rudders that Kid could control to stabilize or guide the ship through rough water. It couldn't propel them forward, yet; he was working on that. He must have been using these somewhere to make sure they didn't get smashed into the rocks. 

There were no sounds, save for the echoing of rainwater dripping through cracks in the stone and the roaring waves. There was something else, quieter. Chains? The roar made it hard to hear anything at all. All at once, harpoons were fired from the rock walls, from inside the rock walls. That's why you couldn't see anything. They were huge, made to keep ships trapped in place or be torn apart trying to flee. It happened too quickly for Kid to manipulate them with his fruit, though shortly after, you could see the crackling purple energy that belonged to him try to pull the hooks out without causing too much damage. It was not a fast process. If he pulled them out too roughly, there would be huge holes in the hull. 

Ropes fell from openings too, pirates sliding down and landing on deck. You could see Heat burning through them if he was in range, causing the pirates to either fall into the sea or hastily retreat back into the rock. The canons barely made a dent in the walls. The harpoon guns were anchored to the rocks on the inside. When Kid pulled one out, another was quickly in its place. The next one he pulled, you took aim at the harpoon gun that corresponded to it, praying you wouldn't explode. What a time to test a stupid idea. You pulled the trigger. You didn't explode, but you missed. There was a small explosion in the rock next to the harpoon, which startled the person manning it enough that they didn't reload. That gave you time to shoot again, this time hitting the base of the harpoon gun. The resulting explosion loosened the rock beneath it, and the gun fell into the water. No damage was done to the ship since the harpoon connected to it had already been removed by Kid. 

There were three on each side. One was taken out. Five were left. You only had 2 more explosive bullets. Kid looked up at you and pointed to the middle one on the same side. You gave him a thumbs up. Aiming carefully, you waited until Kid freed the hook and shot, repeating this process for the last harpoon on that side. One side of the ship was released, causing it to drift closer to the other side where it was still attached. Kid pointed to the next one, but looked away before waiting for your thumbs up. There was no way to let him know you didn't have any more special bullets. You could just shoot the operator, however another would take their place, and you didn't even have enough regular bullets for everyone. 

Without Kid focusing on the metal rudders and the loss of the chains on the one side, the ship was rocking more freely. It was hard to see, but the rock face had a narrow path carved into it so people could walk back and forth between stations. You were a bit higher than the shelf. The ship's rocking brought the crow's nest close enough that you could make the jump. There wasn't time to decide if that would be wise, Kid was already working the harpoon out and expecting you to take care of it. If Kid didn't get his full attention back to the rudders, they were going to be smashed against the rock when they tried to get out of there.

You waited until the mast rocked toward the rock face, at the last second using the momentum to make the leap. The rocks were much more slippery than you anticipated and you landed hard into the stone. But you landed. The enemy stared at you open-mouthed, very obviously not expecting anyone to try something like that. Using their stupor, you rushed them and shoved them over the edge. Then you were about to use your power to dislodge the harpoon, when you had a better idea. Quickly, before anyone could get to you, you reloaded the harpoon and aimed it at the next one. The resulting shot caused the ground underneath the middle harpoon to crumble. That's when you realized mistake number one: now you would have to jump across to the next portion. Almost immediately after that, you realized mistake number two: since the harpoon was connected to the one that fell, it was suddenly jerked into the water also, and you felt the ground start to give under your feet. 

Kid looked at the crow's nest to signal you and you weren't there. He looked on deck, thinking you had fallen or jumped. His eyes darted around to find you. Then, the loud rumble of falling rock caused him to look up, and watch you realize your fuck up in real time.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE THINKING?!"

Killer, who had been covering Kid, looked where his captain was looking. "What the fuck?!"

You hauled ass to get to the other side of the gap, jumping at nearly the last second. Drawing your weapon, you jammed the blade into the rock, knowing you didn't jump quite far enough to make it. You clung to the edge and made an attempt to pull yourself up. One of Big Mom's pirates saw you, walking towards you with bad intentions. You should have been scared or anxious or any number of other feelings. In spite of that, you were having fun. A lot of fun really. 

"Watch out!" You warned.

The pirate paused. "For what?" 

"There's a big spike right below you."

He looked down, the flat rock below him. "Nice try." It was glowing strangely. "Wha-?" A spike of rock shot up, impaling him. 

"Told ya." You pulled yourself up the rest of the way and skirted around the dead man.

There was one more harpoon. The Victoria Punk strained against the last hook and Kid was already working to free it. As soon as it was released, the ship surged forward. There was no reason to get rid of the last gun. Though now you were realizing you had no plan to get back on the ship, and it was moving away. It was within jumping distance. Landing distance was a different story. You supposed you could fix your shattered ankles. You saw the chain to the harpoon and used your power to turn sever and shrink the links. If you had more time, you could have formed a better plan, but for now you wrapped the chain around your torso. You stood at the edge of the rock. Finding Kid's face, you pointed to a place in the air. It took him a second to understand, but you saw him give you a thumbs up. This was probably gonna hurt, maybe less than shattered ankles though. You backed up to give yourself a running start, aiming yourself for the spot you pointed to. The metal was heavy as you leapt toward the ship and you fell fast. You didn't care that it was reckless. The wind against you made you wonder if that's what it was like to fly. And the pouring rain made it nearly seem like you were swimming, something you had forgotten how it felt. It was...freeing.

There was a harsh tug, your vision filled with violet, but it didn't hurt nearly as bad as you thought it would as Kid caught you with his devil fruit. You thought the chains would dig into you. Kid had enough finesse and practice to make it smoother you figured. Even better. Your plan was excellent, if only in hindsight. You didn't register you were laughing, flat on your back on the deck. It took a second to reorient yourself, a bit dizzy from jumping, though it was more like free falling. There were several faces above you, one of them very red and very loud. Oh I'm being yelled at.

Crack! The sound of splintering wood acutely grounded you, as the mast leaned toward the deck, specifically toward where you lay. 

Next Chapter

[stomach-bugg09]

loved your recent with fali and y/n…maybe something where they get caught intensely kissing by jake and neytiri😫 i feel like y/n is very similar to neytiri so she likes to be sarcastic and teasing towards fali (lowk bullying him BUT IN AN ENDEARING WAY) :)) and he just soaks it up.

summary: jake a neytiri walk in on [y/n] and fali during a very intimate moment, and [y/n] doesn’t pass the opportunity up to tease fali.

a/n: AHH !! THIS WAS SO CUTE !! I WANNA CRY I LOVE THEM I LOVE THIS !! okay thank you so much for requesting this, you have fed the fluff and adorable necessity inside my soul. feedback + reblogs are always appreciated !!

tags: @pinkhotdogsfr @wxnderingthoughts @bonnibuckets @hjshshjkhklhkl @liyahsocorro

warnings: so cute, so very cute, neytiri and jake walking in on a makeout session, [y/n] feeling comfy enough to be a lil jokester, couple goals, family goals, just goals in general, adorable, crying because it’s cute, neytiri and jake joking about being “safe” iykwim, the cheesiest final sentence ever, i think that’s it tbh

red handed

things were moving fast. too fast. and yet, [y/n] couldn’t get enough. she couldn’t keep her hands off of him, and he couldn’t keep himself away from her. fali couldn’t even bring himself to take his eyes off of her. she was far too beautiful.

the sand was hot. as [y/n]’s lips roamed his body—his mouth, his neck, his chest—she could feel his cold hands holding onto her hips. fali’s grip was tight, unmoving. he couldn’t get enough of her.

fali was sat up against a rock, its jagged edges digging into his skin. it was worth it, though. on top of him sat [y/n], her legs straddling his lower body. as he held her in place, her soft hands cradled his head, pressing their faces together.

besides the sound of the ocean crashing against the other side of the rock they were hidden behind, all fali could hear was his heart beat. it took over his senses, kept his awareness heightened at every moment.

it’d just been moments before. moments before when the two walked the beach alongside the children, laughing as ao’nung challenged lo’ak to a race. neteyam balanced tuk on his shoulders, jumping into the waves as their laughter echoed for miles. tsireya and kiri watched lo’ak and ao’nung, their heads shaking in disappointment, but even they could not hide their laughter and amusement.

fali and [y/n]’d been holding hands as they strolled, feet sinking into the wet sand. [y/n] was running her thumb up and down along the backside of her lover’s hand, feeling his scars and scabs from the years of war and training. she couldn’t help but find them beautiful—marks that each had their own unique story.

as she felt over his skin, [y/n] couldn’t help but let her gaze travel. she looked up his arm, eyes scanning his muscular biceps, a smirk surfacing onto her lips as she thought about just hours before when those same arms held her throughout the night.

eventually, her stare reached his broad shoulders. they were built and extremely strong. she barely even thought before her free hand was reaching out, softly brushing overtop his skin, pointer tracing the marks that’d once been cuts. [y/n] barely even noticed as they slowed their walking to a stop.

silence consumed them as fali turned, staring at her gorgeous face as she was occupied with feeling every scar on his body. he inhaled sharply as she trailed up his neck, outlining his jawline.

a thumb gently brushed over the stripe of healed flesh that scarred the right side of her face. he closed his eyes, sinking into her hand’s warmth.

[y/n] didn’t dare move her palm from where it carefully braced his head, but she let her thumb travel the slightest bit, stroking the dip between his nose and cheek. when he opened his eyes again, a soft smile graced her lips.

[y/n] let herself untangle her other hand’s fingers from the grasp of fali, bringing it upwards and towards his face, mirroring the same actions just on the opposite cheek.

fali stood, staring at her with eyes that held absolute awe and wonder for how he was able to win enough of eywa’s favor to bless him with her. it was when her leaned in to kiss her that the yearning—the necessity to touch her, to kiss her—began.

she held his face, he held her hips. their lips were fit to perfection, as if they were made to be together. and they most definitely were. when fali’s hand began to trail up her back… well, [y/n] broke the kiss, dragging him behind her as they resumed behind the rock.

and now, they sat there breathlessly in love. and she would not have it any other way. plus, it kept the kids from witnessing it. ( but, come on, let’s be real—tsireya and kiri definitely watched the entire thing unfold and as soon as they disappeared, they ran to tell everyone. )

the couple was so wrapped up in their adoration, their love, for each other, [y/n] thought to herself, nothing could ruin this. apparently, eywa took this as a challenge.

because, just as [y/n] broke the kiss with a smile, attempting to catch her breath, her ears flicked at the sound of a familiar, “tsk tsk.” fali’s mortified eyes immediately sent her turning around. the two figures that stood behind them made her heart drop.

“mom.” her voice was quiet, a hiss evident in her voice as she cringed at the situation. “dad.” that one sent fali over the edge of embarrassment. not only were they caught kissing very intimately, but they were caught by his girlfriend’s parents. could it get any worse? ( yes. )

“good evening, child.” at her mother’s smirk, [y/n] shook her head and turned back to look at fali. with a huff of air, she pushed herself up, standing up from where she previously sat on top of him. oh, eywa.

jake cleared his throat, fighting the teasing smile on his face. a few months ago, yeah, he would have been pissed. but, after countless events in which fali had not only saved the lives of his children, but also kept his oldest daughter happy, he didn’t mind the two. in fact, he completely encouraged the relationship. it was… cute. “looks like you two had fun.”

“please leave.” [y/n] held her face in her hands, now sat down with her legs crossed right next to fali. he remained silent, unable to speak as his face was far too indigo and heart far too fast.

neytiri laughed at her daughter, a joyful smile taking control of her features. she, like jake, was a full supporter of [y/n] and fali. not only was he kind, respectful, but he was an amplifier of her daughter’s abilities. neytiri’s favorite version of [y/n] was the version where she was not only happy, but strong. a strong woman meant strong babies, and strong babies meant a strong future.

“you aren’t doing anything… unsafe, are you?”

“mom!” [y/n] groaned, dropping her chin to her chest in embarrassment. a few beats of silence and then, “we would never do it on the beach.”

fali’s eyes widened at that as both parents barked laughter. their faces were full of shock—never had their daughter so much… character! it was now fali’s turn to cover his face with his hands, but no amount of coverage could hide the blush the crept down his neck.

“but,” [y/n] sighed, smiling at fali’s embarrassment ( mission accomplished ). “if you must know, we were merely kissing—”

“that’s more than just kissing,” her father pointed out. fali wanted to dig a hole in the sand to die in.

[y/n] waved her hand in dismissal. “more than just kissing, not enough to be considered anything else.” she smacked fali with her tail. “wouldn’t you say?”

“i hate you.”

the trio of sullys burst into laughter. “oh, you are too sensitive, fali. if you can’t handle the idea of our intimacy being public, how ever will we announce the day in which we are officially mated?”

“oh my eywa,” fali groaned, amusement and distress evident in his eyes once he finally uncovered them. “i am leaving.”

just as he attempted to stand up, [y/n] whined. “no! do not leave.” he jokingly huffed as he sat back down on the sand. “now you two,” she said, turning back to her parents. “you two are more than dismissed. you ruined a perfectly fine kiss.”

neytiri gave her a look. “kiss?”

“—ing session. kissing session. is that better?”

the sully parents only laughed, turning around to walk away. but, just before they could get too far, neytiri turned back around and loudly whispered, “stay safe. i do not need a grandchild.”

“goodbye, mother!”

as her parents walked away in the distance, [y/n] settled a smile on her face. she turned to fali, her hand grabbing his ear teasingly.

“hey!” he defied, exasperated with her antics. “what is with you today? you are… you are like a child!” fali could not wipe the amused smile off of his lips.

[y/n]’s jaw dropped in mock offense. “i am the child? you are funny for that, fali.” she let go of his ear, but not before smacking him on the head. “you are the one who is scared of my parents.”

“your dad could have beat me up.”

“see, that is a childish fear.”

he laughed, grabbing the girl right above the hips, fingers digging into her ticklish spots. she burst into laughter as they rolled around on the sand.

“you are the child!” they alternated the declaration, words loud but laughter even louder. but, perhaps the loudest of it all was the love they had for each other.

[dark-elf-writes]

Song Shuffle Challenge

This is entirely @musicfeedsmysoul12’s fault as I haven’t even thought of one of these for years but it looked like fun so here I am.

Labour - Paris Paloma

Inko’s hands shook as she zipped up Izuku’s bag. Nothing more than his diaper bag. A scant few changes of clothes and his most beloved toys packed safely inside.

It looked innocent. It had to.

Hisashi couldn’t know. Couldn’t suspect.

Some animal part of her tucked deep inside bleated with fear as she scooped up her son and settled him on her hip. He smiled at her in that sweet way of his and offered her a damp All Might plush.

They would have nothing. Have nowhere to hide. Nowhere that would be out of his reach.

She had found the proof, tucked deep in his belongings. The messages between him and the doctor. The horrible plans that would consume all of Japan if left unchecked. A kingpin. A boogeyman. The nightmare that had haunted the country for two hundred years.

The plan had been formulated over days. Had come together in bits and pieces all while she hid behind smiles she gave everything to feel real.

She had been so young when she had sold her soul to the devil himself. She would die before she would watch him shatter their son in those blood drenched hands.

So now she would run and keep running until they were far far from here.

Someone To You - Acoustic - BANNERS

Izuku leaned against the doorframe and watched their friends bicker from where they had spread out around Tenya’s dorm.

(“If I wanted All Might staring at me while I did my homework, Zuku, I’d do it in class!”)

They had never thought they would have this. Never thought that useless quirkless Deku could have this. Friends who loved him. Friends who cared.

One for All pressed against the inside of their skin, scratching its way along their changing joints and over breaks healed over and over again. The ache of it was familiar. Comforting even, in the knowledge that they would do it all again. Would shatter themself over and over for the people who now looked back at them and smiled.

For them they would do anything.

Happier Than Ever- Billie Eilish

It had been three days, twelve Hours, and fifteen minutes after when Izuku laughed for the first time.

Bright. Free. Unafraid.

They had frozen at the sound. Had seen their friends freeze and look at them with such wonder like they had forgotten the sound. Just like Izuku had.

Their phone buzzed with an incoming call.

Happy. They were happy. When was the last time they had felt this?

Their phone buzzed away.

They had been keeping up a facade for so long they had confused it for their own face. Had smiled through every party they had attended alone. Through every interview where Kacchan had spoken over them. Through every drunk call where they had begged him to come home safe and been ignored.

Their phone buzzed.

Izuku reached out and ignored the call.

Saviour II - Black Veil Brides

It was the phantom hand on their shoulder that kept them from crumbling. Kept their smile from faltering in the slightest even with the agony lancing up their arms.

They had been molded for this. Had been born for this perhaps.

A successor for a symbol. An idea to step into the shoes of another. Everything they were and could have been stopped back to a beaming smile and the quirk that pounded through them.

Still they held their head high. Kept their smile firmly in place.

They had been molded into this. By him. For them all.

So they would smile and they would give all they had to save as many people as they could. Even if it killed them.

Boyfriend - Dove Cameron

A hand appeared in Izuku’s vision, drawing their eyes away from their phone. Drawing their hand away from it too as they were tugged up from their seat and into a secluded corner away from the eyes and dancing.

A familiar smile greeted them when they had finally broken out of their shock to look up. Sharp edged. Full of heat and promise.

“Come home with me,” Shinsou Hitoshi didn’t ask. Wouldn’t ask something like this. Wouldn’t leave even the slightest possibility of this not being Izuku’s choice.

A gentleman… of a sort.

“Kacchan—,”

“He treats you like shit.”

Well, no one had ever accused Hitoshi of being one to mince words.

Izuku should pull away. Should argue. But… couldn’t find it in themself to. Couldn’t even find the will to pull their wrist back from Hitoshi’s loose grip.

He saw it. Of course he did. That smile ducked closer as Hitoshi leaned in to whisper in their ear. “Let me treat you better, Zuku. Let me bring you flowers and do all the couple shit that he hates. Let me stand next to you for all these galas so you’re not left alone.”

Izuku should pull away.

They felt that smile press against their ear. Heard it in Hitoshi’s voice. “My wardrobe is better than his.”

They laughed and didn’t pull away.

[peachjagiya]

I hope you don’t take offense to what I am about to say cuz i’ll speak freely. I think the issue here is, so many taekookers kept talking about how much Jungkook didn’t want to do the show and even went as far as claiming that he was forced to do this show no matter how much Jungkook verbally proclaimed how much fun he was having and how he loved the show. Let’s also be serious here, does anyone really believe that Jungkook would have continued shooting in other locations if he hated the first experience in NY? Before someone comes up with the contract excuse, I need to remind everyone that this show was never the company’s idea. It was Jimin who thought of it, told Jungkook about it and then pushed at the level of the company to make it happen. I had never gotten chance to watch ITS friendcation with Tae because honestly I am more a music fan and their variety shows or other healing shows kinda bore me but I recently watched Friendcation and it was Tae too who wanted to film the show with his wooga squad and from what I understood from what they said at the beginning, he was the one who took the idea to the company and they let it happen. So I don’t think it’s fair to claim that Jungkook couldn’t back out of the show even if he didn’t like it because he was contractually bound.

Right now if I were jikookers I would gloat too because so many people have claimed that Jk looked miserable, looked disinterested, didn’t want to do the show at all or didn’t see the point but from his own words we know that is far from the truth. Not only did he declare how much he loved the show and how free he felt during the show, he also thinks that out of all the trips he been on in his life, these trips for AYS were the best. He also mentioned wanting to go back to the start of their trip so anyone still claiming that Jungkook didn’t love being on that show is not being realistic or reasonable at all. He could have just not said anything if he didn’t feel that way because ofcourse he couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy the trip if he didn’t (or maybe he could) so knowing how blunt Jk can be if he said he loved it, then he loved it. So I think it is wise to just stop with all the stuff about him not liking it or not not wanting to be there because nothing we have seen and heard from him supports that line of thought. He clearly looked bummed that the trip was ending, him and Jimin, and someone wouldn’t feel that way if they didn’t enjoy the trip. I feel like those trips to him, were an opportunity for him to break away from his excessive work load for a few days and just unwind, have fun and eat to his hearts delights. In hindsight, I think it was a great Idea that the show was there to film as after watching his documentary and seeing just how much he worked and pushed himself, I think those few days inbetween schedules to just have fun did him some good.

This is just me stating my honest opinion and I hope I didn’t say anything condescending or rude.

Honest opinions are fine and you're welcome to them.

The only thing I want to query is that jimkookers should gloat. What is this victim storyline? Oh well they're only gloating cos we were so mean to them?

They spent a couple of weeks saying JK visibly hated Tae, laughing at misinterpreted jokes to make it look like JK wanted him gone, mocking their short lay down. Did they all bow at our feet when he finally said it was better with Tae? No they absolutely did not. What they did was just carry on. Cos they perceived events a different way. And I couldn't give a fuck if they do that.... until they get pissy when others do it.

I have never, in my life, been to a JMKK space to "gloat." Or to say anything actually. I've often wondered about their thoughts on things and I just haven't ever. It's not my space.

Imagine if the tumblr Taekookers reacted to, for example, Hawaii this way. Ran into Jikook spaces to "gloat". Because as you say here, we had plenty of reason to. After months and years of "JK can't stand being around him" and "Tae just lies" that became too much even in the short time I've been around, there was vindication. Yeah, we could have gloated.

I bet if we'd done that, the first thing the jmkkrs would say would be "why hasn't this made you feel good?"

What actually happened is we just had a couple of exciting days being dorks about it, feeling good and happy in our "community" here.

So they should go do that.

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, Act 3 part 17

Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?

Previous Part

Part 17: a new soul

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

Within the first cold month of the new year, it felt anything but a fresh start. I was falling ill nearly every day. I suffered from headaches, nausea, lack of hunger or excessive cravings, vomiting, overly sensitive skin, and sour moods left and right.

It made Alastor agitated. We fought left and right (mostly from him annoyed at me for using a 'disrespectful tone') and when he tried to be nice through physical touch I snapped at him. Even Nym and Thatcher were starting to avoid me.

So here he was, waiting on the porch for the city Healer, Athlea, to arrive. It had been overcast for the past two days and the sky finally decided to shed its tears in the form of a torrential downpour. He used his magic to keep the sprits from landing on his coat.

The city was quiet save for a group of younglings goofing off near the shore. He heard the commotion and sent his shadow to investigate. They were playing in large puddles and splashing each other. If he had the kind of magic his soulmate had, he'd have been able to immediately tell what was transpiring without the use of his shadow. It seemed there was an endless array of hidden skills you possessed, and ones that you only shared in the much needed moment. He refused to admit he was jealous. Anything you could do, he could mimic in his own way.

Eventually he caught sight of Althea. He sent his shadow across the yard and manifested her beside him. She clung to the fence to steady herself. She had her usual box of trinkets, herbs, and tools with her.

Alastor led her inside.

"I wasn't expecting so much rain," she said, shaking her coat free of rain before walking in. She removed her boots at the door and quickly followed him up the stairs. You were hiding away in your room with the curtains drawn and fire out. The room was dark and the onslaught of rain didn't help. It made it feel as if it was night in the room.

"Go away Alastor," you mumbled from the sheets.

"I have someone here for you." He felt you reach your magic out first before daring to sit up. When you did, it was lightning fast.

"Seriously Alastor? I told you I didn't want—"

"Never mind what you told me. I am concerned for your health and to put my mind at ease and leave you alone, you will allow our healer to examine you."

"I said I could handle it." A hand came up to smooth down your bed head.

"I have waited long enough for you to handle it. Since you have failed to, it is now my turn." He used magic to draw the curtains and start the fire. You shifted up and apologized to your friend as she came to stand beside the bed.

"I'll be quick, I promise," Althea reassured you.

Alastor left the room.

"I'm fine, just a little rundown." I went on about the random ways I kept the sickness at bay while she did a full examination on me. She had been studying healing and medicine for the past eight years, making her the most proficient 'doctor' in the city. Her methods grew more advanced with her patient count.

"Have you been eating?" she questioned.

"Trying to," I shrugged. "But sometimes I can't keep it down. And I'm exhausted all the time."

"When was your last menstrual cycle?"

"Awhile ago."

Althea grew very serious. "How long is awhile ago?"

"I dunno. A month? Maybe two?"

"Well which is it?" Althea pressed.

Her concern worried me. "Um...probably two? Well before the new year's celebration."

Althea was quiet. Her eyes scanned my face as my magic scanned her. She was nervous, increasingly so, and I was starting to worry what that meant. I rarely heard about Demons dying from an illness but there were always the exceptions. The last thing I needed was Alastor trying to nurse me back to health.

She cleared her throat and sat on the edge of the bed facing me. She put her tools away and looked intently in my eyes. "I'm both your friend and your healer. So I need you to be honest with me when I ask you this."

"Okay..."

She took a breath. "Are you sexually active?"

The truth got caught in my throat and I had to force myself to speak it. "Yes." My cheeks burned with embarrassment. Althea opened her mouth to speak again but reality slapped me upside the head. "No. I'm not...that's not possible."

"There's a very real chance you are," she said, her voice quiet.

"I'm not...that's not possible...I can't...no."

"I can do a couple more tests to see—"

"No. No!" I abruptly stood. "No! Absolutely not! I'm not..." I lowered my voice and blocked Alastor off as best I could. It peaked his curiosity. "That's not possible."

"Why does that upset you?" Now she was speaking to me as my friend, not my healer.

"Why wouldn't it upset me?"

"Don't you like him?"

"That has nothing to do with this! I'm not...I can't go through all that. I'm not ready for my life to be miserable. I'm not...no."

"But you raised Reagan and now you're raising the two siblings. How's this any different?"

"Because I actually have to go through the process. Because I have something that's from me that I have to guard. Something that...something that...something..." I ran my hands through my hair and pulled. I couldn't stop pacing. It felt like I had just run for an hour straight. I needed to calm down. How?

"You're you, though," Althea said gently, "You're the great Dragon Demon, guardian of the Hazbin Haven. You've kept a whole city safe for years. What's the difference for a child biologically related to you?"

"It just is!" My voice bounced off the walls and the room fell silent.

Her ears fell, eyes wide with surprise. I hugged my arms and mumbled an apology. Alastor prodded at my shield but I shoved him away. He was keeping himself at a distance instead of pushing his way through like usual. Thank goodness for it.

I spoke quietly. "It's...I don't know why...but it scares me." I felt tears rising. I swallowed several times and pushed my shoulder into the wall. My hands rubbed the sides of my arms.

"Why don't you let me check first?"

Althea did more examining before concluding that I was, indeed, pregnant. And a couple weeks at that.

"I think you need to talk to Alastor about this," she said.

"I don't want to." I pulled my legs up and pressed my teary eyes to my knees. She laid a reassuring hand on my wrist. "I don't want this to happen."

"This is a very good thing, though. You're having a child with the man you love."

I didn't answer. She stayed with me for several minutes, in complete silence (minus my quiet sobs), until Alastor knocked on the door. My friend gave me a reassuring hug before grabbing her things.

The door closed, leaving Alastor and I alone.

He waited at the door for several heartbeats. My eyes were focused on my hands that were collecting sweat in my lap. My mind was still closed off, even as he approached and rested a hand on my shoulder. He sat down on the bed, cane still in his other hand. He didn't say anything but I could hear him pushing thoughts through our connection, encouraging me to say what had happened.

I wanted to tell him. I wanted to figure this out. I wanted to see his reaction, feel his emotions, know if he would be happy or disappointed in having a child with me. It was never something we had discussed. It had always been something I thought would never happen to me.

I took a deep breath. In one quick movement, I opened my mind and said, "I'm pregnant."

Utter silence filled the room. Even his mind had gone silent. Our little corner in the world had gone still and was holding its breath, waiting for sound to return. The air felt thick and hard to breathe in.

A clock next to his bed ticked away. The fire popped once then the little crackles followed suit. The rain started as a patter than loud white noise. The empty buzz of static from the radio on the dresser gradually grew louder.

Warmth filled my mind as Alastor's started working again. There was a strange mix of shock, joy, and disappointment. Why was he feeling each one? They were surprisingly not very strong emotions, which is the essence of him; strong emotions and even bigger feelings.

"Will you say something?" I asked aloud.

He swallowed. "How do you feel about it?"

"I want to know how you feel about it."

He swallowed again. The creak of his fingers tightening around his cane reached my ears. His other hand straightened his already straight jacket and bow tie.

"I suppose a mixture of things," he answered. "Shock above all."

"I sense disappointment."

He was quiet for a moment. Then his smile became genuine as he placed a hand on my leg. "You already know how I feel about children in general."

"Yeah but this is yours."

"There lies the complication."

A thought crossed his mind and I voiced it, "You never thought you'd have a kid."

"No," he confirmed. "My mother used to tease me about it when I was younger, but the idea left my mind once she passed. My sister, too, when we were younger.

"I'm sorry."

He was careful with his claws as he lifted my chin up. "I do believe half of this is my fault."

I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and removed his hand, pulling it to my lap and threading my black claws with his red ones. A devilish but endearing sight.

"Why do I sense fear, my love?"

I knew he was going to bring it up.

"It just is."

"That wasn't even a coherent answer, dear."

I couldn't help the short laugh that escaped me. I flipped his hand over, still clasped with mine, and traced his knuckles with my thumb. His skin was tough yet smooth.

"Why are you afraid?" he asked again, gently.

I lowered my eyes as I continuously rubbed my thumb across the back of his hand. Why had I never done this before? It was oddly soothing to do, especially when I could feel the warmth his hand was radiating.

"What's there not to be afraid of?"

Alastor suddenly felt awkward. "I'm...not sure." I stopped rubbing his hand and looked away. "Darling, tell me more." He gently prodded the fighting ring memories, the source of most of my trouble.

I had to take a calming breath. "Women were removed from fights if they were pregnant...and my mother...she had me in a cage and...I don't even know who my father is. Only that he's an Angel."

"What else?" His voice was unfiltered and sweet.

"Well there's...you know...there's the whole thing about what happened to me when I was younger. And...by some weird miracle I hadn't gotten pregnant then."

Alastor was quiet so I went on.

"Pregnancy is a bad thing. Masters hated when their fighters were pregnant and there were plenty of women outside the rings who were devastated upon hearing the news that they were pregnant. It seems like a universal thing to be upset when a woman is pregnant."

"How do you know this?" he questioned.

"It was during my few years of independence." I paused, realizing that once upon a time I would have said 'freedom' instead. "Women talk to each other. And pregnancy...it's not exactly something safe. Let alone actually giving birth."

"We have a talented healer," he offered.

"The pregnancy itself is just as bad, though," I said. "All the symptoms are horrible and we don't even know..."

His hand tightened around mine. "What is it?"

I looked up at him. "We don't know...what the child be."

"I don't understand."

"You're a Demon. And I'm part Demon, part Angel. What will the child be?"

His interested suddenly peaked. Alastor the Radio Demon briefly took over and the possibilities of the type of power the child might have came to light. The child could be an asset, an apprentice, the heir to Alastor's power. He had never considered training someone who didn't hold the type of magic or way of thinking as him.

That's my other worry. I thought.

"What is?" his voice doubled as he asked both aloud and through our connection.

"You."

His soft side came back as the tone in the conversation grew even more serious. "How so?"

"We have to parent the child...together." My mind brought up the constant arguments over 'parenting' Nym and Thatcher. They were technically mine but this child...this would be both of ours.

His eyes looked me over for several heartbeats. His mind spun through a variety of options and scenarios, all of which were somewhat unpleasant. A lot of it was mostly how he would handle me when we argued, pushing his own agenda over mine. But there quite a few trying to figure out how to work through it together.

He let out a sigh. "It seems we'll have quite few things to discuss." I let go of his hand and laid back down with a loud, drawn out groan. His ears fell halfway at my display.

"I don't want this." I pulled the sheets up to hook tightly around my shoulders.

"Because of the difficulties or...because of me?"

I looked at him but he wasn't returning the look. His shoulders seemed hunched. So I sat up and hooked my arm in his as I leaned my cheek on his shoulder. "Because of the difficulties. Not because of you, Al."

"Alright."

****

The following months were...interesting to say the least.

The only ones who knew about your pregnancy were your close friends, the children, and Charlie's group. It was a tight lip secret that needed to stay that way until the child's birth. If word got out that one of the guardians was pregnant and vulnerable, people would start coming after the city again.

At least, that was the general reasoning.

The real reason was to avoid conflicts with Heaven.

Heaven obviously felt threatened by Alastor's magic and abilities, enough to force him into 'hiding' for eight years. You weren't sure how much of a concern you were to them but associating with Alastor didn't put you in the clear. Especially now that you were going to bear his child.

Things were tense within the first few weeks of your pregnancy. Many many arguments and tough conversations ensued, most around the topic of parenting but a few simply because you were in a bad mood and Alastor wasn't having it.

Things grew easier, on Alastor's side of things, when the hump became more obvious. You refused to leave the house, your mood swings were mostly sobbing breakdowns instead of anger, and you slept a lot.

This side of you was easier to manage. You craved soft, sweet, and gentle touches from him (only when you asked because if you didn't, his fingers were nearly bitten off) and most of your crying needed him to be present not empathetic.

He kept his mind out of yours but you frequently watched the world through his eyes. Boredom had also been another issue. Once a week he would scour the world for a new book to keep you busy. It usually only lasted you halfway through the week.

Alastor did most of the cooking unless you were feeling up to it. Dinner was always a family meal with you, Alastor, Nym, and Thatcher. Occasionally Reagan would join but she was often up at the house, anyways, helping you manage your pregnancy and needed an evening break.

Things grew more interesting as you came to the tail end of it all. You rarely spoke and your magic was off kilter. The bond strengthened as Alastor put his own shield around your mind to keep your magic contained. It was annoying for him to keep up that shield but he refused to remove it even when you asked.

Now you rarely left your bedroom. Alastor always made sure the siblings were fed, even begrudgingly played a game of cards with Nym, and brought a plate of food up often. Every time you refused and every time Alastor managed to coax you into eating. Once you had eaten two bites, you usually finished the rest of it.

One evening he came up to a cold room despite the late summer's temperatures. You had stolen all the pillows from downstairs and had used them to make a funny nest of some sort on the bed. Several of his shirts and suit jackets were laid overtop the pillows. A new feeling swelled in his chest at the sight.

You were curled in the center in a half sleep, tears falling out of your eyes.

Alastor placed the bowl on the bedside table and reached both his hands and magic to you. Your mind grabbed hold of him to wrench yourself out of the strange nightmare. Your hand grabbed his shoulder an aggressive hiss.

"It's me, my darling." He reared back to avoid your teeth.

Your eyes were as wide as he'd ever seen them and your breathing erratic. Your forehead was covered in sweat, as was the rest of you.

"A vision..." you said through heavy breaths. "Him. It's...Adam. He's—"

"Not going to bother us."

"He was standing over the children. He was in the house."

"Are you sure it was a vision, my dear?"

"Of course," you said over his question. "I know the difference now. That was a vision. He was...it was at night. He was...staring in a crib. His face...he's supposed to be an Angel but he looked anything but one."

"We will keep a ward over the house for some time. Would that make you feel better?" His hand came to hold your cheek and he watched, with great satisfaction, as you leaned into his warm touch. His eyes fell to your swelling stomach. "I will protect you. I'm not leaving this time."

"Thank you, Al." Your muscles relaxed as you came down from your adrenaline high. It was then you noticed what you had done to the bed. You immediately pulled your head out of his grip and curled inward as best you could with your large stomach.

"There is nothing to be embarrassed about, my love." Alastor looked over the obvious nesting attempt. "It is only natural."

"Nothing about me is natural." You laid back down covering your face with a blanket. You fought him when he attempted to pull it away, and ended up losing the battle. He placed a kiss on your red cheeks.

"I find it endearing, if not adorable."

"Call me that again and I'll rip your vocal chords out."

His teeth shined from the open window. "Only if you use your teeth."

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

Author's Note:

I've never written a pregnancy before soooooooo

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

Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @martinys-world @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall

[intrigd-voyagr]

Scales

this has to be the fastest I have ever thought up and written a fic idea. The power of brainrot........

takes place after Sonny gets admin codes and he can come out of the puter for Periods Of Time because I said so

anyways Sonny Addie shippers come get y'all's food!! 720 wordss

Nestled in the rocky seam of a cave made home, Sonny and Addie lay entangled in each other’s embrace. They had taken up residence on Addie’s scavenged (but surprisingly comfortable) couch, and the naga in question insisted on resting atop the taller man, their face buried in his neck while they kept their arms wrapped securely around his neck. As reptiles do, they relished the steady heat his body provided – and even more so, because it was his.

Sonny offered no complaints to their demands - after all, he seriously doubted they could comfortably cuddle if the roles were reversed. Addie was… quite small compared to him.

So, he laid on his back and took them into his arms, resting his chin on their shoulder; utterly content.

---

He had been absently rubbing their back for a few minutes, though the act itself had his mind churning in thought. He had seen all of the scales on Addie’s limbs and face; there weren’t that many, but he marveled them all the same.

However, their back remained a mystery to him. As his hand traveled up and down their shirt, the multitude of concealed bumps underhand told him he was missing out on something rather special. It wasn’t long before his gnawing curiosity won in the end.

“Addie dearest, I’d very much like to examine the scales on your back a bit closer, if you’ll let me…?” He pinched the hem of their shirt to further indicate his interest, waiting for their response.

Addie locked up at the idea, the red bloom across their cheeks deepening in shade. ”Y-yeah, um…! Sure, i-if you want to, go ahead… but they’re not really… um… pretty.”

Sonny laughed into their hair, using his free hand to smooth down their locks soothingly. “Nonsense, love. There is no part of you I haven’t found breathtaking.”

And with that, he slowly and respectfully began to roll up Addie’s shirt, hiking it up as far as it would go.

He was met with a sea of iridescent scales, closely knit and running down the entire length and width of the reptilian’s back, the pattern only tapering back to skin near their neck and the base of their spine. The man was at a loss for words for a moment as he took it all in.

“My, Addie… you’re positively stunning,” He murmured, red tinting his own cheeks now. As he stared longer, though, he soon realized why Addie had said what they said. For each healthy scale, there was another that was jagged and dull, or even missing entirely, leaving only patches of scarred flesh in its place.

“Oh, my… But... What… what happened…? Some of these are... Who hurt you…?” his voice was pained, his fingers now gingerly ghosting across the most ragged ones. Addie was silent as they searched for a response.

“No one… well, I guess myself?” Addie laughed nervously, before realizing a bit more context was needed for an answer like that.

“…When we shed. Pulling the old scales off things like arms and legs are easy. But the back… is a two person job. Most people have family, or friends, or a partner to do it, but I, um… I never…” Sonny can feel their shoulders tense against him, and he’s hit with pang of sympathy.

“I just make do with what I’ve got - the walls, o-or trees… it gets itchy, so I go for whatever’s roughest, y’know? But the scales underneath are still pretty sensitive, so it also hurts…”

Sonny flattened his palm across the scales of their upper back, brows furrowing as he imagined the years of trauma each one was forced to endure by this world too cruel to spare a caring hand.

“Well,” he began, “you have a partner now. And I’ll make sure every shed is perfect from now on, and that you finally have a chance to heal. You won’t have to hurt yourself anymore. And never forget…”

He ran his hand down their spine slowly, memorizing the way each scale felt underhand - the rough, the smooth, the missing – and eventually settled himself in the small of their back, applying light pressure to hug them closer. With his other hand, he coaxed their face up so that their eyes met. He then leaned in close, pressing his forehead to theirs.

“You have yet to disappoint me, dear.”

[thebadgerclan]

Justice

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: Justice is served

There is an execution depicted in this (nothing overly graphic), so proceed w/ caution

Part 2 to Salvation

The King’s condition had drastically improved since his….treatments with Doctor Orolv had ceased, but he was not healed.  Nikolai’s hands still trembled, he still felt the demon creeping in his mind, dragging its talons against his consciousness, the fear of it breaking free gnawed at him, but one look from you, one touch of your hand against his sent the demon skittering to the corners of his mind, leaving the King’s mind completely and utterly his.

Since your husband had moved back into your rooms, since he began spending his nights wrapped in your embrace, the demon had not come out, it hadn’t even tried to emerge.  And Nikolai was happier, he was more productive; his wit and banter was back, he was back.  And it was all thanks to you.  Nikolai had been going mad, he knew it, thanks to the so-called Doctor recruited to rid him of the demon.  She had tortured him: waterboarding, whipping, branding, starvation, isolation.

All any of that served to do was anger the demon, rile it up.  And when Nikolai passed you in the corridors, unable to speak to you by his “Doctor’s” order, the demon would buck, fight harder than it ever had to get free.  Little did Nikolai know that you would be his salvation, not his downfall.  Now, Orlov was in a cell and the King had never felt better.

Nikolai peppered your face with kisses, drawing you from sleep.  “Hmm, Kolya,” you mumbled as you stretched, the silk sheets slipping from your body.  “Good morning, my beloved wife,” Nikolai said, kissing his way down your neck.  “My goddess, my angel, my beautiful Y/N.”  You smiled, accepting your husband’s kisses.  “Darling, as lovely of a wakeup as this is, I don’t have time for your distractions this morning.”

Your husband smirked.  “Oh?  Even when my distractions are so very enjoyable?”  He dragged his nails over your side, making you squeal with laughter, and you extracted yourself from bed.  “Yes, even then, my love.”  Nikolai watched as you darted behind the dressing screen, a sleepy smile on his face.  But when you emerged, wearing your kefta rather than a gown, Nikolai’s smile faded.

He knew that look that you wore: it was the look you wore when doling out punishments, the look you wore when reading guilty verdicts at court.  This was not the look of his gentle, loving Queen; this was the look of his Queen going to war.  “You’re doing it today?” he asked, and you nodded, securing your hair back in a simple braid.  “I am.  She’s been interrogated and cross examined.  A unanimous guilty verdict.”

Laisia Orlov, former physician, was set to be executed today for high treason and conspiring against the Crown.  And she would die at the Queen’s hand.  A Rakvan Queen had not performed an execution in nearly 200 years, but this case warranted an exception.  “I’ll be there,” Nikolai said, rising from bed.  “You won’t have to do it alone.”  Nikolai knew your reservations about this, but your desire for revenge and justice far outweighed them.

“Thank you, my love,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder.  “I’ll see you soon.”  You would visit your prisoner one final time before she was brought to the Square for the execution, where Nikolai would hand down the sentence.  Your guards flanked you as you made your way down several flights of stone stairs, into the belly of the Palace.  Orlov was kept in the smallest cell, barely enough room to stand in, yet she sat as you approached.

“Come to berate me some more?” she snarked, and you scoffed.  “No.  I’m here to offer you your last rights.  Not that there’s much hope of repenting at this point.”  Laisia’s eyes went wide.  “You’re going to kill me?”  “Did you really think there was another fate for you?  After you tortured your King half to death?”  Laisia laughed, a cold, wicked sound.  “He is no King of mine.  That man is infected with evil and darkness, and I will be rewarded by the Saints for my efforts to save this wretched nation.”

You crossed your arms, looking down your nose at her.  “If that’s what you choose to believe.  Make your peace.  You have a half hour.”  You spun on your heel and left, ignoring her cries of protest, the hatred she spewed.  Outside, the Square was packed with Ravka’s nobility, the judges, the lawmakers, the physicians–the real physicians–you’d brought in to corroborate Laisia’s argument.  Unsurprisingly, they were all appalled by her methods, confirming what you should have suspected from the start: she was a radical intent on killing the King.

Nikolai smiled when he saw you approaching, dressed in his military dress uniform.  “My darling,” he greeted, kissing your cheek.  “Any news from my wonderful doctor?”  You shook your head.  “Other than the fact that you’re ‘infected with evil and darkness’, no.”  Nikolai shrugged.  “Well, we already knew that, didn’t we?”  “How are you so nonchalant about this?” you asked.  “This woman tried to kill you, tortured you, and you’re joking about it.”

Your husband cupped your cheeks gently.  “Because, my love, she is nothing.  Yes, I was tortured, yes, it was horrible.  But you, Y/N, brought me back.  You saved me, you keep me grounded, you keep the demon at bay.  My salvation, my love, my Y/N.  If I have you, then nothing else matters.”  His declaration would have normally made you throw yourself into his arms, but the jeering of the crowd drew your attention.

Laisia Orlov was being led out by armed guards, her hands and ankles bound.  “Let’s get this over with, yeah?” Nikolai said, and you squeezed his hand.  “Yeah.”  He kissed your cheek and you stepped from the raised dais, walking to the center of the Square.  The guards kicked Orlov to her knees and dispersed, leaving the prisoner to you.  She looked at you with hatred, and you looked back with equal measure.

“Laisia Orlov,” Nikolai called, silencing the crowd.  “You have been brought before your King and court charged with high treason.  A jury of your peers has found you unanimously guilty and has sentenced you to death.  How do you plead?”  Laisia, to her credit, did not cry, did not tremble.  “I am not guilty,” she responded, voice steady.  “I sought only to purge the madness from you, and in return, I am to be murdered.”

Nikolai did not cower.  “As decided by the jury, Queen Y/N Lantsov will carry out the execution in a manner of her choosing.  My love…” he gestured to you, indicating that you may proceed. “Any last words?”  “This will not last,” she spat.  “It will return, rot his mind, drive him to madness.  Soon, your dear King won’t know the difference between the heavens and the earth.”  You bent so your face was inches from hers.  “I will stand with him between the heavens and the earth,” you hissed.  “If that is what he needs.”

You straightened and folded your hands, calling your power.  You started by slowing her heart, just enough to make her panic.  Then you cut off her airway, made her pain receptors fire, severed her aorta.  Finally, you flicked your wrists and snapped her neck, ending her life.  The crowd cheered, and you forced yourself to breathe.  You had killed before, yes, but that had been in war, in self defense, this was…..

You felt dizzy, like the ground was swaying beneath you, but before you stumbled, Nikolai was there, steadying you.  “I’ve got you,” he whispered, kissing your temple.  “You’re alright, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”  You nodded, letting him lead you back into the Palace.  Orlov’s body would be cleaned and returned to her family; you could offer them that small mercy.  “Nikolai, I–”  “Shh, it’s ok.  Let me carry you for a while.”

He didn’t mean literally, though your legs were certainly shaky enough.  You’d carried him for the past few weeks while he recovered, supported him while his mind and body healed.  Now he would carry you, comfort you as you processed what you’d just done.  “Justice,” you whispered.  “Yes, my love,” your husband replied, kissing your cheek.  “Justice.  You gave me justice.”

[writing-whump]

💔😭🛌🥣🤢🤮 for one of your boys? 🖤

This is a great one, thank you! From this ask game.

The trio has a movie night with Isaiah stress sick all day until it finally downs at him. Vomiting, angst, heartache and lots of comfort.

Movie night

It started with the phone call.

"Your brother is back in town."

That was all it took. A friendly warning from Sonny that Hector was back from his exchange semester. They would probably meeting again at the nearest wolf event. If he didn't go they would meet at the next one.

There would be no avoiding Hector anymore.

That was alright. They knew how to get along civilialy. Right?

After getting the call, Isaiah couldn't eat. He hated how it messed up his whole day. His focus was shot, he kept forgetting what he was planning to do. While reading his preparation texts for uni the letters swam in front of his eyes and he didn't dare send any coordinating emails for work when he was so confused.

He stayed at home, pacing the apartment and fighting the lingering nausea that just accompanied him everywhere. He didn't dare to eat, just keeping hydrated. It was the weirdest feeling. He felt restless and tired and the same time. Waiting for something to be over that there was no running from.

His self-pitying parade ended when Seline and Matthew came home.

"I got the popcorn and Matthew got the cola!" Seline said instead of a greeting. "So I hope you got that free evening we talked about."

"Free evening?" Isaiah asked, confused. Damn, what else did he forget today?

"Yes. It's Wednesday. Our movie night. Remember?"

Ah right. Seline kept coming up with these ideas where they would all see or meet each other regularly doing activities together. It was like she was afraid they would drift apart before they even got close.

In the name of bonding time, she came up with traditions for starts and ends of semesters, holidays, conclusion of exam season and regular common events.

It was heartwarming in effort, a little awkward in its schedule. But they all agreed it was justified. Isaiah lived alone since he was 18 and he didn't talk with his family properly since that day. Matthew spent his teenage years in a boarding school.

Seline was the only one with a nice stable family - if the daily calls to her mom and weekly visits she came all happy from were anything to go by - but since she didn't live in Vienna until this year and out of many other complicated reasons, she had very few friends in the city itself.

Isaiah got the impression she was on a quest to change this, and it was a purposeful decision she was doing her best planning and preparing for.

He couldn't be angry, and he couldn't say no to that effort. Even if having a movie night was the last thing on his mind. His chest was feeling tight, probably from the angsting he was doing all day and the nausea was still very much there although his stomach hurt from hunger.

It was horrible to come to terms with his heart issues because he pushed his emotions and shadow down so successfully for years after moving out, it became his weak spot. If there was anything stressful or upsetting, it went right there. The damage was done, permanent. The doctor he saw about it said it was very rare for shadow wolves to contract such lasting issues in life. Shadows could heal anything aside silver - but they couldn't heal damage they caused themselves. And this was a gradual one, caused over time, little tears around the heart valve that wouldn't to away anymore.

That one was entirely on Isaiah.

He didn't tell anyone. It would be entirely discrediting for all the packs if they knew he had such an injury, such obvious weakness. They would tear him to pieces or never take him seriously again. His influence would be shot.

Only Matthew knew a little. Since that unfortunate day when he helped him home and watched him get sick. Though Isaiah didn't really explain and didn't know how serious it was at the time.

Isaiah didn't realize all the preparations were ready as he sat on the couch in thought. He was really out of it today to not join in any way.

Seline made the pop corn, Matthew brought the big cola bottles and before Isaiah knew how it happened, he had a glass of it pushed into his hand. The lights were shut and the beginning of Mad Max: Fury road started to play.

"You picked this for us so we would have some action?" Matthew asked, stretching on the sofa completely with a handful of popcorn gathered in his hand.

Seline glared at the lack of a bowl, but seated herself across Isaiah in the corner of the sofa.

"This movie is so much more than mere action. I admit the plot is simple, but that's so you can focus your attention on all the details of the worldbuilding. There are amazing social themes about humanity, apocalypse, reactions, dictatorship, oppression, brainwashing and power of friendship, redemption. The brutality of the fights and the agressive music contrast with the small moments of kindness and softness..."

Seline got into her triad as the titles started playing.

Isaiah held his glass stiffly. He didn't want to be here. Somehow until now he didn't realize how intrusive it would be to live with others. He liked company and was good with people on a normal day, but he had days like these too and he didn't...it was very stupid it didn't connect until now. That he wouldn't be able to have lonely evenings of suffering in peace, that his secrets would be held under scrutiny, that his presence would be demanded and expected.

He wanted to be left with his dark thoughts, heart episodes and damaged family ties in peace.

He also couldn't leave without breaking a promise and alarming them that something was wrong.

The only thing he managed to come up with was to slide down from the couch onto the floor, leaning his back against it. At least a bit of privacy.

The cola in his hand smelled sweet and inviting and it was supposed to help with stomach issues, right? He took a few sips, feeling the rush of sugar calming his hunger pains.

It calmed him a little. Seline kept stopping the movie to underline some kind of important cue or meta fact. Matthew was getting crazy angry over it, except he talked right through the movie, when commenting or exclaiming suddenly about a well made fight scene.

Isaiah actually relaxed for a bit, getting his mind of things as he listed. He wasn't getting much from the movie, it was all too fast and colourful, but he was feeling marginally better.

So it was to is utterly surprise when the nausea returned. His stomach was bubbling angrily with the few mouthfuls of cola, sloshing painfully.

It wasn't fair. He wasn't even overthinking this anymore!

Isaiah tried to take deep breaths and calm himself down. If this was simply from stress, maybe it would go away soon.

Then his stomach gave a light squeeze. Liquid shot up his throat, the taste of cola flooded his tounge. He tried to swollow it down, but it surprised him so much he gasped and the sugary vomit spilled out, right down his front.

There was no warning, no sound, no fight. One minute he was fine, fighting the roiling liquid down and the next it dripped from his chin at the small splash in the center of his chest.

Isaiah was mortified, body going rigid. He had no idea how that happened. No heaving, no warning. He didn't feel any worse than he did the whole day, aside the constant dull ache in his stomach.

Did he seriously just throw up on himself in the middle of a movie?

The only saving grace was the fact no one seemed to notice. Seline and Matthew were too invested in the loud action of the movie and he was hidden away from direct sight, sitting on the floor like that.

He could simply get up and disappear into the bathroom. Change his clothes and act like nothing happened. It was just a little accident. Not like anybody had to know.

Except then he felt the liquid shoot up his throat again, the force accompanied by an agonising stab in his middle. All he managed was to hang his head over himself as it sprayed out of his mouth. Just a small sip of black liquid joining the first splash. His teeth felt sticky and eroded from it.

His body gave a whole-bodied shudder. His right hand hovered about his chest, but he felt paralysed by the disgust of it all. He who thought himself so good in control? This was so humiliating and gross...

A quite pitiful sound escaped him then, something between a sob and a sight. He wanted to fall down the floor and disappear.

And it had such an easy solution, if he just made himself get up already. No chance though, his body was locked up and frozen in place.

His heart was beating in his ears, painful electric impulses. The nausea was ever-present, only rising with his pulse and his stomach was doing flip flops for no reason.

"Hey, Isaiah? Are you paying attention?" Seline asked, interrupting his haze.

Isaiah gulped and nodded, hoping that would satisfy her. His ears were ringing, so he only half-heard the film. His stomach hurt, curled around itself like around a fist.

"Isaiah?" She asked tentatively and stopped the movie.

The room fell in uneasy silence. Isaiah's panting breaths sounded too loud against it.

And then something even worse happened. Matthew stretched out behind himself to turn on the switch, basking Isaiah's complete emberassment in bright light.

Isaiah shut his eyes against the onslaught of artificial rays, hanging his head and panting through rising panic.

"What the hell-" Matthew grumbled in surprise.

"Isaiah? Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?" Seline's voice was melted honey, the softest sound he ever heard.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pressing his hands against his eyes, hopefully hanging his head low enough to hide the worst of the mess on his chest. "Please, don't look at me." He sounded as pathetic as he felt. Just great.

"Isaiah," she cooed and he heard her sliding down the couch next to him. Cold hands were suddenly at the side of his face, her fingers in his hair, stroking his curls gently. Since he didn't slick them back today they were more wavy around his face, sticky with sweat.

"Does your belly hurt? Do you feel sick? What is it?" She asked, not pulling away from his hair.

Isaiah just shook his head, bowing further.

"Matthew, can you get me some paper towels," Seline said, voice soft but decisive. He heard Matthew's hurried footsteps on the floor. He didn't bother to look for his shoes before he went.

"Sweetie, please look at me," Seline said, treading her fingers through his overwarm, wet hair. "It's alright. You are okay."

Isaiah hid his face in his hands. The splutter of cola felt cold against his chest as it dried off and the smell of it mixed with stomach acid irrated his nose. He wanted to curl up on the floor and disappear.

This was so humiliating. With the silver poisoning, at least he was too out of it and it was too serious, serious enough to warrant his failure of senses. But this was just unforgivable, weak and repulsive. He felt so repulsive-

"Sweetie, come on. It's okay. Nobody is angry. Please, believe me." Seline slid closer to him, leaning her shoulder against his, one arm coming up around him to pull him against her, while the other kept stroking his hair.

"I'm sorry, I don't know- I don't-" His shoulders hitched with the sob. Selined leaned even closer, as if not disgusted by the the mess and the smell or by the display. She was full on hugging him now, her head against his neck.

"Shhh. You don't have to apologise, sweetheart."

Isaiah finally dropped his hands from his face, all pale and sweaty. He needed to see her, to make sure she wasn't joking. "Look at me, Seline. How can you-? I'm disgusting-"

As he turned his head he met her stare, bright baby blue eyes just centimeters from his. This was the closest their faces ever were together.

"Don't say that, sweetie. Darling. Dearest. Honey."

Isaiah huffed out a tiny laugh. He couldn't help it. He was a mess, and she was holding him, calling him all those weird sweet things, pressing herself against him as if nothing of that was true, as if his state wasn't absolutely unforgivable and sickening...

And she was doing it with that familiar fiery stubbornness and in that soft steely voice he couldn't resist.

Isaiah leaned his forehead against hers, just for a second forgetting how disgusting it all was. Just accepting the comfort, the touch, the blooming smell of her, like jasmine and peppermint.

He breathed in and out, only now realizing he could do it slow and proper again. His chest wasn't tight and pulsing anymore, and the pressure in his stomach eased up to exhausted but bearable soreness.

He waited for Matthew to get back with a fresh shirt and the towels, wrapped in her presence and reassurance.

----

@bellysoupset

[onestepbackwards]

A thought brought on a self aware post about bringing in Pokémon that the player has had for years. Could you imagine bringing in Pokémon from the games Pokémon Colosseum or Pokémon Colosseum XD? Not counting the very few wild ones you can catch in XD pretty much a majority of the Pokémon you get from these games are Shadow Pokémon. Pokémon who were stolen from their trainers, had their hearts forcefully closed so they could be nothing but fighting machines, and were used by one of the worse evil Pokémon groups to hurt people and Pokémon alike. Then the player comes along. They rescue them. They treat them kindly, battle with them, spend time with them, and once their hearts are open enough the player purified them which ends up finally freeing them. Maybe they know its a game, but they don't care. You freed them. You loved them, and you took them to your other games so that they could go on new adventures with you. They wear the National Ribbon they got for being purified with pride. When they get transferred into Arceus they are the most loving and protective Pokémon that Hisui has ever seen. The love they have for you is almost astonishing. If the Hero is aware that love is also given to them since they are the player's 'kid'. Of course they would love and protect the people that the player cares about. You care deeply about Ingo and feel so bad for him that your Pokémon will cuddle the guy and try to show their care toward him too. Heck, since having their hearts closed seems to mean they forget every fond memory that they had as first they might love on Ingo simply because they empathize with how it feels to forget everything important. Maybe the characters can see the ribbons they wear, and they wonder about them. Assuming the player communicates with anyone in the game maybe Ingo or the Hero (or both) ask about it, and the player explains. They are a bit horrified at the idea of people closing Pokémon's hearts, but they find it so sweet that you cared enough to heal every Shadow Pokémon that you got. And that you kept them with you for so many years. No wonder the Pokémon love you so much.

If they tell others about it then anyone who might have been weary of the player might be a bit more open to them now. Anyone who shows such love and kindness must be nice, right? Maybe they can get to know them like Ingo and the Hero have. Could see this having unintended consequences with regards to Volo's delusions about the player though. Upon hearing about the shadow stuff I think that might cement his belief that the player is the 'true' better god. Of course they are a better god then Arceus. They are kinder. They actually do something to improve the lives of others themselves unlike Arceus. All the more proof that you are the kinder better 'true' god to Volo. Don't know I just like the thought of what sort of effect bringing in Pokémon like ex-shadow Pokémon might have for the player and the people in Hisui.

😭😭🥺💕

This is so sweet to imagine

Your beloved pokemon you saved YEARS ago still loving you and following orders, protective to the very end. Probably some of the most fierce pokemon in Hisui, if anyone you battle has anything to say about it.

It would certainly at least make you look good for all the people who are wary about you.

But like you mentioned, Volo would probably dive deeper into his delusion. Since he doesn’t know the full context, why wouldn’t he assume more about you being a true god?

[linked-history]

So next from the poll was Hermit, though with a surprise cause I am including Age of Calamity into the AU cause why not Fuck with the timeline even further. So I do have the order labeled but from Left to Right we have Age of Calamity, Link from BotW flashbacks, Link waking up on the Plateau, BotW Link in a "Repaired" champion's Tunic, and Tears of the Kingdom/Final Look.

As usual I will be including more information below the cut.

During one of these trips away from the palace, when stopped near the Faron Woods, Link left the camp in the dead of night almost in a trance and returned early the next morning with the Master Sword in hand. From then on his time spent in the Palace Kitchens was over as he was trust into serious training and taught all forms of weaponry.

THE CALAMITY

Link spent much of his younger years within the palace after moving into the barracks with his father, following the deaths of his mother and younger sister when his village was raided by bandits. While he spent some time in the barracks watching his father and the other knights much of his time was spent helping in the kitchen, learning from an elder woman who worked in the kitchen Mihn. He was happy to use his knowledge when he travelled with his father and his troops whenever they left the palace barracks.

It was as the Sheikah were testing the newly excavated Guardians that Zelda was overseeing the knights progress, while also sating her curiosity regarding the Guardians that a stray shot heading towards the princess was deflected by Link and he was quickly appointed as her Guard by the king.

So Link ended up following Zelda, and being hated by the princess as she saw him as a reminder of her failure to unlock her powers, though even after he saved her from the Yiga, during one of her trips visiting Urbosa, she did not completely warm up to him. After that inccident she instead ignored his presence as he tailed her as she continued trying to unlock her powers.

It wasn't until the Calamity struck and Zelda saw just how far Link was willing to go to protect her that she understood just how harsh she was to the boy that had lost just as much as she did, if not more. She tasked the Sheikah traveling with her to transport Link to the Shrine so that he may heal from his injuries while she left to face the Calamity alone and ended up fighting a battle alone that lasted 100 years.

From there Link traveled to the Sheikah and was guided by Impa, gaining memories as he went that left him with mixed feelings towards his goal and the princess who in the end saved his life and has overseen the protection of Hyrule as he healed.

100 YEARS LATER

When Link first awoke on the plateau his memories were gone though, if he had been able to at the time, would explain that the time he spent healing had almost felt like a dream. While on the Plateau he was guided and taught by an Elder male who inhabited the region, who was later revealed to be the King. After activating the towers and completing the shrines on the plateau Link watched as a shadowing mist seemed to almost glide through the air around the broken palace before being pushed back by a light of similar form.

During his journey he worked to free the divine beasts and was forced to face the corrupted remains of those he once called friends 100 years ago as well as defeat the Blights that had killed them. In between Divine Beasts he traveled, retrieved the Master Sword from its resting place and helped the remaining inhabitants of Hyrule who had begun to thrive once again during last 100 years.

After defeating the Calamity his mixed feelings towards Zelda returned, while deep down the task of protecting her arose he memories of her treatment of him until the end, kept from from doing more than escort her to Kakariko and then his home in Hateno that he gifted to her as his last act as her knight before leaving and deciding to continue traveling and helping around Hyrule.

Upon the individual reawakening Zelda was attacked, Link's muscle memory making him move with little thought where he recieved damage to his arm, while the cave system collapsed beneath them and Zelda disappeared in a spark of light. Link met the ghost of Rauru, a past King of the lost Zonai race, and was given direction on how to navigate the new sky islands before he was able to return to the surface with the task of finding Zelda who was still missing and had taken the remains of the Master sword with her to the past, where Rauru explained she was located.

THE UPHEAVAL

With some time away from Zelda following the Calamity's defeat Link found Zelda in one of the new growing settlements close to the palace where he agreed to accompany her into the Palace to explore the lower cave system left by the Calamity under the Palace. While exploring they uncovered mysterious records of an unknown time and age and those who inhabited it. At the deepest part of the cave system they uncovered the remains of an individual left to rot beneath the Palace.

After helping the regions around Hyrule with phenomenon plaguing their areas and retrieving the Master Sword from the light Dragon, Link was able to defeat the remains of the corruption below the palace and the monster that it became, gaining help from the spirits of Rauru and his wife Sonia, who were able to assist in returning Zelda to their time, though she did not return as she once was, she was changed from the events she lived through and her memory of any of the events was broken or hazy at best.

This Zelda understood the mistake of her "alternate" self and repaired the broken connection with Link and was able to lead her people to victory with her knowledge of what the Calamity would use against them, leading to the destruction and repurposing of the Guardians, removing a weapon from the playing field that would've been used against them in the end.

AGE OF CALAMITY

A break in the timeline from the meddling of the Goddesses and the blood and power within Zelda when she awakened her powers. Hyrule was given a second chance against the Calamity as time was reversed a month before the Calamity's attack. As it was Zelda's power that broke the timeline she awoke in this time with knowledge of the Calamity's attack and it was viewed as a prophecy brought on by her divine blood.

[sixminutestoriesblog]

St. Lucia

I'm a little behind on this one. St. Lucia's Day is December 13 but since I didn't realize that until too late, we're going to do this a little bit belated.

St. Lucia's (or Lucy's) celebration is, for the purpose of this post, going to be about the Scandinavian side of things. On December 13th, the shortest day of the year according to the old Julian calendar, young girls dress in white robes with red sashes, set a wreath of holly on their head, crowned with - if they're old enough and trusted enough - lit candles and hand out coffee and sweets, often saffron buns or ginger cookies, to members of their family or nearby neighbors. Cranking it down a few years, small children dressed in white robes carrying, again if they're old enough, candles, also form a parade and sing as they too hand out treats or follow an elected Lucia who does that herself. Lucia means 'light' and this tradition is supposed to help you shore up enough of it for the coming winter months as well as to mark the Winter Solstice.

How did this all come about though? St. Lucia is from the Mediterranean.

Let's start at the beginning.

St. Lucia was a Christian martyr who was born in Sicily and died in 304 at the age of 25. During her life, she brought food to either the poor or the Christian martyrs hiding in the catacombs depending on the story you read. She wore a candle on her head so that both of her hands would be free to carry more food. Her mother arranged a marriage for her, since Lucia's father had died when she was young and the mother, dying herself of bleeding issues, feared for her daughter's future. Lucia however was a Christian woman that had dedicated her virginity to God, something many early female saints seemed to do, and after her prayers brought about her mother's healing, she convinced the woman to call off the engagement. Instead, she dedicated her dowry to Christ and distributed it among the poor. This did not go over well with her ex-fiance who snitched like a little bitch to the governor. Since Christianity was illegal at the time, Lucia's arrest was ordered, with her punishment being service in a brothel for daring to break up with a man. When the soldiers rolled up to take her away however, they found they couldn't move her, even after they'd hitched ox to her to try. Strangely dedicated to their work in the face of the miraculous, they then heaped wood around her and set her on fire.

This, also, did not work.

Finally, some go-getter in the group got creative and ran her through with a sword (or spear).

This worked.

Or it didn't, depending on the story because at least one of them says that she didn't actually die until she'd been given Last Rites. Honestly, whoever gave her Last Rites should have just kept their mouth shut and she'd probably still be around today.

During the period between the 8th and 12th centuries, Scandinavian countries gradually adopted Christianity and St. Lucia came with it. The St. Lucia that became known in Scandinavia however wasn't entirely the woman she'd been in Sicily.

You see - before St. Lucia came to Scandinavia, there was Lussi Lagnatti, Lucy Long-night, and she also claimed December 13th, except she claimed its long, dark hours instead.

If St. Lucia brought hope and healing with her, Lussi brought terror, punishment and the dead with her in the dark of the longest night of the year. On Winter Solstice, everyone stayed locked safely inside their houses where they hung axes, scissors and knives over their doorway and marked crosses on their houses to keep her at bay. During the Winter Solstice the veil between worlds grew thin and things leaked through. Lussi was accompanied on her travels by walking dead, evil spirits, trolls and other shuddery creatures. It was a Wild Hunt of its own, with Lussi as its leader and woe to anyone they found outside. If the victim was lucky, they would be found miles from where they'd started, confused and beaten.

If they were unlucky, they were never found at all.

Lussi, like many winter creatures, had a penchant for naughty children and workers, especially women, that hadn't finished their winter chores by the time of the Solstice. She and her hoard would damage their houses, their barns and sometimes even snatch them up to carry them away forever.

Little wonder that light-giving, hope giving, generous Lucia took her place in the hearts of Scandinavia. Or perhaps Lussi simply reformed into the light side of her dark coin. The young girls that wake up early to dress and feed their family do so before the sun, moving in the darkness of the house after all.

There's one more piece to our puzzle however. Germany also had a white clad woman that wore candles in her crowning wreath and gave out gifts. Her name was Christkind. She was supposed to represent the baby Jesus and was accompanied by Hans Trapp, a stand in for the devil.

So there you have it. Sweden is said to be the start of St. Lucia's Feast in the North, a famine there in medieval times saw a boat miraculously appearing on Lake Varern, headed by a woman of glowing light who handed out food and then vanished with the boat directly after, but it quickly spread to the neighboring countries, even more so in the 1900s. These days Lussi and the Christkind are almost entirely forgotten but St. Lucia still walks the early morning hours, bringing the light with her and giving out her food with both hands, reminding everyone that the winter is long yet but there is also warmth and hope even in these darkest of days.

[mikuni14]

Only Friends

Only Friends - but were they really friends? The show answered itself and contradicted its own title.

What I didn't like about the finale:

idiotic, highly manipulative and very cringe pool scene. I can't imagine being in a relationship with a person like Ray who resorts to such vile tricks just to prove something (that Sand has feelings for his ex). And his constant "either deal with it yourself or I'll do it" treated as romantic behavior. If it was a guy saying something like that to his girlfriend, everyone would be outraged :) Ray could have said "I think you still have feelings for your ex, please sort this out". Instead, he started a threesome, kissed his rival passionately and blamed it all on Sand that it was his problem. He's truly a Mew's fanboy, they're both the same in this regard. Will every problem in their relationship be solved in the same way, by creating theatrical scenarios and proving their superiority and someone else's flaws, as Ray and Mew do, for which no one has ever criticized them?

all problems, traumas, nasty behaviors mysteriously disappeared or were healed, but in some little acts, words you can see that they are simmering under the surface

everything is so perfect, but the appearance of 1 (one) handsome guy disturbs the paradise

Cheum with her constant interference in other people's affairs, forcing and pressuring them, her unwavering belief that she knows best what is best for others

forcing an apology, even when it is obvious that someone does not want it. Also - no apology that should have come from Mew, Cheum, Sand, Ray

everything Mew, Ray and Cheum did to Boston was disproportionately more evil and cruel than what he did. Boston slept with Top before he dated Mew, who then constantly questioned his motivations and kept him at a distance. Boston manipulated Top, but he didn't force him to do anything, and he kept their relationship a secret, he didn't do it to hurt Mew. Mew's revenge crossed all boundaries, including legal ones. And yet it is Boston who is forced to constantly pay for what he and Top did, to apologize constantly, and it is he who is thrown out of the friend's pack and it is he who is blackmailed, slandered and treated like garbage

I absolutely HATE how everyone treats Boston like a leper, how they seem to force themselves to be civilized towards him, how their facial expressions change when he shows up, says something, or is just there. Even when he sends a photo A YEAR LATER, everyone reacts as if he sent them a diaper with poop in it, not a photo of them. I admire Boston, I would never lower myself to spending even a minute in such company. Boston is treated like he did something incredibly wrong, like he killed a little kitten or something

Top apologizing to Sand for "stealing his boyfriend" as if it was a wallet and not a person with free will lmao Is Boeing a person or a thing that can be stolen? The series treats him as a tool though, so theoretically he could be stolen lmao

What I liked:

the iron consistency with which Boston separates his sexual life from his love life. He explains it calmly, without adding any ideology or pseudo-psychological reasons to it. He's honest AS ALWAYS about it. Maybe that's why he wants to stay with his "friends" because in his mind he didn't do anything against them, against Mew, he just wanted to sleep with a hot guy. Which they (especially Mew with his unhealthy relationship with sex) took as a personal attack on themselves

the fact that Nick was hurt by Boston but did not blame him for it, he noticed what no one else sees (does not want to see), that is, that Boston has a completely different relationship with sex and feelings than others, than accepted social norms

I liked that Mew rejected Boston, it felt like one of the few genuine moments of Mew where he is honest. The sad thing is that Cheum, with her actions behind his back, did not give him the opportunity to immediately say "no" to Boston's presence, which would have spared everyone the awkwardness and Boston from hearing those terrible words and the embarrassment of all his "friends".

And what I dislike the most is the change in tone of the show since the last two episodes. And the fact that the creators were probably forced to betray their own project...

[paganwitchisis]

The Price of Freedom Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Fight for Their Lives

Rated E for EXPLICIT!!

Word count: 2,383

Chapter one - previous chapter is here (4.2k words)

Chapter two - This is where you are

Chapter three - here

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! Abuse, torture, smut, oral sex, rape, healing, beatings, dismemberment, breeding kink, act 3 spoilers, canon divergence, blood, violence, graphic depictions (It is Cazador after all) RATED 18 PLUS

AO3 link here

This is a graphic fight scene, be warned.

Note: chapter 3 will be uploaded sooner rather than later because of how short this chapter is.

Story: All the eyes from the group had shifted and turned to look for the source of the voice and landed on a lone figure, a body that was not there before on the throne. This figure was what appeared to be an older male elf with pale skin and a sinister smile on his face. His eyes were red and scars covered most of his uncovered body. He wasn’t small by any means, and was fairly muscular, a large great sword the size of a man leaning against the side of the throne.

Astarion bristled immediately and shifted in front of Tav, every nerve in his body screaming what a danger this being was and what he was facing. This was impossible. How was there another vampire so close to Cazador? There was no way Cazador would allow this vampire to live so close to his territory! Astarion’s main concern was to hide Tav, maybe the vampire didn’t see Astarion’s own semi-permanent bite mark on her neck. Maybe he could get her out of here in one piece?

“Another of our kind, I see? Szarr’s whelp, at that! Although…I don’t feel his compulsion.” The figure began to get on its feet and grabbed it’s massive great sword while the others looked on. Astarion was going to move, when the figure was on them in an instant, Astarion’s throat in his hand, as he squeezed painfully but not lethally. “Now why is that, hmm?”

“Let him go!” Tav yelled out and pulled her own great sword free, aiming it at the vampire. Karlach had her battle axe aimed. Shadowheart had radiant damage prepared and ready to lob towards the vampire.

“No! Run!!” Astarion demanded while being partly strangled. The vampire merely laughed.

“You would protect a spawn? I guess it would make sense that you would.” The vampire said towards Tav. “I never knew of the Szarr family allowing their spawn to drink off humanoids. Then again, I guess I can see why you chose this…morsel. I think I’ll have a taste myself.”

With that, Astarion kicked the vampire in the head with enough force to be released. Falling to the ground, Astarion got between the vampire and his lover easily enough, and, after coughing to clear his airway, although it was more a matter of habit, Astarion snarled and replied.

“I don’t know who the fuck you are, or how you’re in this territory, but you will leave her the Hells alone! She is mine!”

The vampire got up from the attack and chuckled before it replied.

“I see now. You’re not under the compulsion because you're infected by mind flayers, however, it isn’t the mind flayers that weakened you. It was Cazador. Figures, the little shit was so scared of his own spawn that he put a limiter into your creation!”

“Who the hells are you?” Karlach yelled out, finally trying to piece together what was going on.

“My name matters little. I don’t even remember it. Let’s just say, I’ve been doing my own thing hundreds of years before Cazador rose to power. Not that you would know, he only sired you twenty years after he became a vampire lord and murdered his own master. Now, what is his pathetic attempts at creating a vampire doing in my home?” the vampire asked as his eyes tracked Tav, something Astarion was very upset about and kept getting in between. 

“And what if we plan to kill you?” Shadowheart asked, spitting venom towards the creature.

“Then I must remind you I will kill you where you stand. It is by my generosity that you all live now. Although…you,” the vampire pointed at Tav “Come here.”

“No!” Astarion called out, leveraging his daggers higher. When he pulled them out, he couldn’t remember, but it was obvious the vampire before them was a threat. Astarion backed up a little to press himself closer to Tav, his fangs bared.

“Don’t trust me with your mate, spawn?”

In response Astarion merely snarled before Tav, having heard enough and not wanting to be protected, lunged out from behind her lover and attempted to swing at the elder vampire. The hit did not connect. This signaled to the others to attack. Astarion did what he did best, and became one with the shadows. He knew that he was still at a disadvantage, however he also knew that for his strengths, he needed the element of surprise. Karlach took the main focus and the brunt of the reprisal when she stepped in front of Tav, rage filling her body as she took a swipe from the vampire. The vampire tried to use his claws on his non-dominant hand on the woman, but thankfully Karlach was a very proficient warrior from her time in Avernus and was used to quick opponents like imps. She dodged easily, which frustrated the vampire. This made him lift his mighty great sword, the weapon that seemed to command a presence all on it’s own. Shadowheart attempted to use radiant damage, however, as like her previous battles, her attacks would just miss the enemy. While distracted, Astarion came up behind the vampire and used Orin’s daggers, however the vampire jumped, missing the first strike, but the second strike found it’s mark in the blood sucker’s flesh. Due to the elder elf leaping into the air, the hit was superficial and in the thigh. It wasn’t fatal nor would it do much harm. The curious thing was that it didn’t appear that it was healing right away like it should have due to his status. Astarion was familiar with delayed regeneration, and when the answer hit him, he retreated to Tav like a moth to the flame.

“He needs blood! He is starving! Look! He isn't healing!”

Astarion remembered his time with Cazador and his delayed healing due to his poor diet. That was the only reason he was seeing the same symptoms in the vampire before them. He was targeting Tav because Karlach simply was too hot. Anyone with eyes could see that her blood would be volatile due to her condition, and with Shadowheart almost bathing herself in radiant magic, this left one option – her. Astarion knew something seemed off when he ran into the elder elf, the way he spoke of Cazador screamed bordering disdain, yet he couldn’t remember his own name? He is possible he was borderline feral already. This could give them an edge in the battlefield but this was tricky because this was also very dangerous. He was a caged beast at this point who would do anything for the feast that stumbled into his house. Astarion knew from experience what a feast her blood was and he would be damned if a single drop ended up with any other vampire than himself.

Angry, the vampire lashed out and tore his great sword down with strength that defied his position. A moment later and the pillar holding up a portion of the ceiling came down. The vampire’s target was obvious. He was too slow with the weapon and against the might of their numbers, so he planned to change tactics. The elder vampire was trying to take the room down.

Karlach dropped her defense temporarily to brace herself under the falling platform. This gave Shadowheart time to roll out from under the rubble before she was dealt major damage at the cost of Karlach’s defense. Astarion saw it happen too late as he was on the other side of the room, Tav having made off in a sprint shortly after Karlach ran to the pillar. Astarion ran to stop the vampire even if he knew it was in vain while Tav used her weapon to deflect a potentially fatal blow aimed at the tiefling. This left Tav open to a counter strike. The elder vampire bared his fangs and went to pierce her neck, when Astarion, incensed and fueled by a protective instinct he hadn't seen or used up to this point, leapt on the vampire and sunk his teeth into the rotting flesh of the corpse they were attacking. Astarion knew it would taste vile, but it was more than that, it was revolting. When the vampire finally bucked and tossed him off, Astarion couldn’t stop his stomach from retching the congealed blood and could not attack. The angered older vampire turned, ignoring Tav and set off with his great sword aimed high to cleave Astarion who could not get his faculties to work long enough to evade or listen to his commands. Astarion held his only dagger, his second long since abandoned in the middle of the room when he pierced the man’s thigh.

Shadowheart was trying to free Karlach who was trying to clear her area due to the falling ceiling while she took pot shots and continued to miss with her magic. Karlach had let go of the pillar and was trying to crawl out from under a large slab of cement, Astarion watching the entire battle play out slowly like earlier. Astarion watched as Tav ran towards Astarion, dropping her great sword in favor of speed to reach him and swiped his dagger off the ground as she ran. She used her momentum to propel herself into the air and jabbed the dagger into the other vampire’s throat. As she did this, the vampire picked up on her as a threat and turned, used his off hand claws and aimed true.

There was so much blood, and from the buffet that hit Astarion’s nose, a great deal was hers.

Astarion bolted to her side, two of the claws had caught her throat at an odd angle and she began to drown on her own blood.

“Shadowheart! Karlach! Help!” Astarion called out as he pressed his hands over her throat, fear gripping his throat and tears springing free. He couldn’t lose her! Not yet! They barely had time together!

Astarion was barely able to perceive that his lover’s action had struck true and that his dagger was embedded in the vampire’s throat. His main focus was on his lover, her gaze was soft and she reached out to touch his face. She was dying and she still sought to comfort him?

“Stay with me!” Astarion called out as he moved for Shadowheart to start healing. Astarion took the moment to start pouring healing potion after healing potion into her mouth and praying to every god he could think of to save her. They needed to save her. This prayer he deluded himself into thinking wasn’t for him, it was for her! This world needed her because no one had a heart like her! No one. Hells, she even had his. Astarion didn’t care that he was sobbing now while he shook, trying to keep his lover among the living.

“Hold on, soldier! This will hurt, but it’s the only way.” Karlach said as she finally joined them. Astarion knew a split second before Karlach did it, what the tiefling had in mind. The woman used her extreme heat to burn the wound and sear the flesh together. The smell was horrible. Of course, this wasn’t the first time Astarion smelled burnt flesh, but this was the first time her smelled her flesh go through this, or hear her agonizing scream like this. She began to shake, and Shadowheart cursed.

“She is going into shock. This is too much for her body!” Shadowheart called out. The throat wound was sealed and her life no longer in extreme danger but her life was still in danger nonetheless. They had to worry about getting out with her severely injured, having lost a lot of blood and whatever was making her sick wasn’t helping. Tav proceeded to throw up on the other side of Astarion.

“Is that because of me?” Karlach asked.

“No. She’s been sick.” Astarion volunteered the information. He finally got his breathing under control again, angry at himself for losing his cool and being so emotional in front of others like that a moment ago. She needed help, this was not the time to break down. Astarion kissed her forehead and tried to soothe his beloved.

“It’s okay, dear, we’re gonna get you out of here. I promise.” Astarion ran his thumb over her cheek bone while Shadowheart used the last of her spell slots to get her stable.

“It may be best if we keep her here tonight. She isn’t able to move. We still have to loot, anyways. Tav did this out of love. Remember that.” Shadowheart reminded Astarion while she went to her pack and laid out a bed roll. She pulled out a bowl and used a spell of Create Water and handed it to Astarion for him to use on Tav to clean her down, while Karlach went to work on looting and looking for the ring. Astarion pulled her pack and his to him and looked at her marred throat. She had a new scar because she saved his life. Astarion helped to wash Tav’s bruised and battered body while avoiding her throat for the most part. When he did get to the wound, he took the utmost care. He got her into her night clothes, tucked her into a bed roll, and wrapped her in a couple blankets to stave off the chill of the cement floor.

“You should join me.” Tav said with a raspy voice which Astarion hadn't noticed, but he was relieved to hear her speak. He was worried if she had damaged her vocal cords.

“I will, my dear. I’m just going to help Karlach. I’ll be right back.” Astarion kissed her briefly and walked off to where Karlach and Shadowheart were. He was suspicious of them for a little bit now as they had been muttering among themselves for a bit in low whispers. Astarion intended to find out why.

 “She doesn’t know?” Shadowheart asked Karlach as Astarion approached

“No! I’m sure she would have said something if she knew she was pregnant. I’m telling you, she is clueless. They both are. You need to tell them!” Karlach said a little louder than Shadowheart had liked who shushed her immediately. Astarion stopped his approach.

Pregnant?

[void-soda]

any of your ocs have a story that especially resonates with you? an oc that makes you misty eyed if you think about them a little too hard?

Oh okay. Hold on one second there anon

*Pulls pin off grenade and throws it offscreen*

I have 4 OCs, and they're both in pairs. Patch and Seam as one pair. Emarra and Garrett as the other. Be ready to read a lot.

*EXPLOSION*

Starting with Emarra (Left) and Garret (Right)

Now, I'm not gonna talk about this too much bc in not dealing withaking corrections later as this is a collab pair that I write with my wife. My wife needs sleep.

So the short is that these two are best friends, doomed by the narrative. They love each other completely and want to be together but don't want to ruin their friendship. They're friends with benefits from two different social classes that grow up together. After graduation, they write letters to one another from their jobs, having ended up in different locations, but still mustering up the courage to talk to each other about their feelings.

Yada yada, Emarra gains immortality for eldrictch familiar reasons. Through the same incident, Emarra gets displaced 5 years into the future. When she returns, Emarra finds her friend Garrett married and with a family. They finally admit their feelings. Unfortunately it's too late for them to have things how they wanted it to be. They have to live with this life now. What makes it more tragic is Emarra could've made Garrett immortal too, but didn't want to rob him of his family. Sadly, Garrett secretly never stopped wanting to be with Emarra and tried to make himself immortal.

He never succeeded...

And now Emarra roams Plutria all alone, forever, until the death of the universe, to its eventual recreation. Purely, truely immortal, and never a day older than when she vanished.

(Anyways, that's sad and we made an alternate universe where Emarra forces imortality onto Garrett on a desperate impulse decision. And even made the more canon version eventually meet the reincarnation of Garrett in the new world.)

...

But that's nothing compared to my dearest OCs and the pair I care for the most.

Patch (Left) and Seam (Right)

Now. What can I say about the boy and girl who fall in love and heal with each other?

Where the boy runs from home after an incident, and finds himself broken, non caring, and names himself after the patchwork sweater he clings to for a semblance of fake peace. Only covered, never truly repaired. Hurt, like a puppy who never felt love.

Nihilistic, not even able to see the faces of anyone he meets, blacked out. Only so few faces he can remember, and he clings to those memories dearly as he worries when he forget them, there's nothing worth living for. A kid who's ability is to run away by hiding through reflections of the looking glass, finding it ironic he makes a living by making reflections of the personality people want to look at as a simple dating service. Able to travel everywhere but trapped in his own heart.

But what of the girl? Who is she?

A gal trapped in a stuck up family. Wanting nothing more to be free but is trapped in her home. Dressed for rebellion to show who she truly is, but can never be present as what she is lest her family lock her in her room. Trapped, like a cat misbehaving, kept in her carrier as punishment.

Someone with the ability to have anyone believe her words, just like her family does. A family magic, but useless on one another. What good is the ability to decieve when someone wants to be percieved for their true self? Wanting nothing more than to say words that are true, instead of the lies she's been fed to repeat.

And what happens when they meet? A boy randomly in your window reflection? An imaginary friend to chat with? A girl bored out of her mind? Just a way to kill time?

They talk, learn about the surface layer. Make observations. The messy hair, the tattered sweater. Black hair with dyed whites, a pretty necklace.

The boy asks for the girl's name, "Delilah" she replies. the boy answers "Patch" having taken this name as his new mask.

They become aquiantances. Delilah talks to Patch whenever there's time to spare. Patch looks to see a featureless face, grow happy whenever he stops by. Its easy when a piece of glass connects you to any other piece in the world. Even if he can't even tell the color of Delilah's eyes, knowing someone new can smile from his presence is nice.

And one night, there's a party thrown by her parents. Delilah wanting to be out of her room dresses as their parents please. A wig, hiding her dyed hair, a dress too proper for her taste. At least she keeps the necklace. The fake freedom is nice for what it's worth, and a chance encounter with the boy, out of the glass and in the Flesh. His sweater gone, for a fancy suit. But that hair stood out to Delilah. Wanting to see if it was really him, she approaches.

Patch, in a see of blank faces can't recognize Delilah, until he spots her necklace, and smiles. "I thought this place looked framiliar. Never thought I'd actually walk in it." he teased. They bantered and had a nice time. Admitting he's here as a date for a client.

There's a fight between parents and daughter. Words spoken, never to be taken back. A decision to run away, and a broken boy who can take her somewhere new. That night, Patch could see the green of Delilah's eyes.

Time passes. Delilah gets to see the wonderland that Patch hides away in. With the sister he resides with. The two of them, runaways from poor lives, but still alive and a form of happy. Safe in this rundown place. Patch offered her somewhere better, she could pick anywhere in the world with the connections he made. Delilah decides to stay there, with them. She saw Patch smile at that, something about that smile felt more real than all the others before it.

Time passes, the three get up to hijinks together, make friends with a school girl with a negligent family. Trio to a Quartet. And yet, Patch and Delilah slowly open up to one another. The two feel safe together, more than with others.

Slowly they open up, showing vulnerabilities and their past to one another. Becoming closer and closer. One day the girl falls in love. One day the boy sees the girl's face, the next week he falls in love too.

One day, the girl approaches the boy, flustered but with a determined smile, "I want to tell you something."

"Huh? Okay." The boy blushes, a little confused.

The girl swallows. She wants to speak, "Hi, my name is Seam." Her new name, something to match the boy she loves. Her face red, embaressed from how long she's thought over this. She's shaking.

The boy looks stunned for a moment. He then smiled at Seam. "Hi there Seam." He spoke. He looked around and caught his reflection, taking a breath before speaking once more, "My name's Kevin." His mask taken off. Only so few knew this name he practically abandoned, not of shame or fear, but not knowing who he was. Kevin thought he could learn with Seam.

Seam's mouth hung open. Never thinking she'd hear that from him. "Uhh, hi Kevin... I like you... a lot." She admitted

Kevin's eyes went wide and his face grew red, but he smiled. "I... I like you too... a lot."

One day they held hands. One day they kissed. One day they married. One day they had kids. One day they traveled the world, taking the scenic route.

That's how a boy and a girl, had sewn up the wounds they recieved growing up. They may have scars, but they healed with love, and now a memory sits there, of two kids who met by the windowsil

...

Patch and Seam are very important to me as a story. I have skipped... so much! I want to share it all someday but you'll have to wait for that.

I put a lot of who I was/am into Patch. I will resonate the most with him, as he's a reflection of a me I once abandonned. And his story is one of healing, that I put a lot of my experience and understanding with from my time with my wife. Delilah was her creation and she cherishes her. She gave me her as a piece to my story as I do with all of my friends for Patch's story. I want nothing more than for him to be happy, which, I guess means I should be happy too, right? He'll grow as I do, and he's better now because he is loved. So I hope you guys will love him when I tell you his story.

I'm not sorry for how much I wrote. I just love these creations with my whole heart. Through their tragedies, and their cherished memories, I will love them.

Now! I will go to sleep, and have this queue'd. Please, have a great day