#and i see people I grew up with that seem to be doing so much better

[misswynters]

Royal Harbinger

featuring. ekko x princess! reader

Hailing from the Grand Kirzean Empire, you were a princess. The only one wielding the blood technomagic abilities. Having such powerful abilities yet you are one of the most sweetest person, ekko has ever bet.

Glittering starlight pierced through the thick smog that veiled Zaun, casting faint halos of silver over the jagged metal and broken cobblestone streets. Neon lights pulsed faintly from signs above cluttered alleyways, their buzzing hum blending into the mechanical symphony of the Undercity. Amid the chaos, there stood a figure who seemed so out of place it was almost comical—wrapped in delicate silks and adorned with intricate, glowing lines of red that shimmered faintly with every step.

You, a princess of the a Grand Empire, wielder of forbidden blood technomagic, and to Ekko, someone who had no business wandering these parts.

Perched atop a railing on one of Zaun’s crumbling platforms, Ekko crossed his arms as he watched you. At first glance, you were every bit the image of innocence. That soft smile you offered the street urchins as you handed them what little supplies you’d brought from above. The way your delicate hands caressed the head of a stray Zaunite mutt, soothing its bony frame. Your voice, lilting like a melody, apologizing for taking up space in an already-crowded alley.

It didn’t make sense.

“Hey,” Ekko called from above, leaping down to land lightly on his feet a few steps away from you. “What are you doing here? This place isn’t exactly royal palace material, Princess.”

Your head turned, the faint light catching your gentle features. “Oh, Hi Ekko! I was just… exploring.”

“Exploring?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying an edge of disbelief. “Kirze’s finest blood mage is just out here sightseeing?”

The smile on your lips didn’t falter, though your fingers twitched at the mention of blood magic. “I needed to see this place for myself. You’ve told me so much about Zaun… I couldn’t stay away.”

“Yeah, well,” he muttered, glancing around. “Zaun isn’t exactly a tourist spot. Especially for someone like you. People see those glowing lines on your arms? They’ll think you’re carrying something valuable and won’t ask before taking it.”

You tilted your head, the light in your eyes curious rather than offended. “Is that why you’ve been following me for the past hour?”

His composure faltered, and he scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to the cobblestones. “But you don’t have to protect me, Ekko. I can handle myself.”

“Yeah, sure,” he scoffed. “Handle yourself like when that drunk guy in the bar tried to grab your hand last week, and you just smiled at him like he was your best friend?”

Your laugh was soft. “I didn’t want to cause a scene.”

“You’re too nice,” he muttered, running a hand down his face. “You’re in Zaun now. Being nice gets you hurt.”

But even as he said it, something about your presence made the buzzing tension in his chest loosen. Maybe it was the way you didn’t flinch at the harshness of his words, or the way your kindness didn’t feel forced. It wasn’t fake or performative—it just was.

Before he could say more, a low growl rumbled from a nearby alley. Ekko tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for the bat strapped to his back. Two figures emerged from the shadows, their faces obscured by bandanas, their postures predatory.

“See?” Ekko muttered, stepping in front of you. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

The larger of the two men chuckled, his voice gravelly. “A couple of lost little birds, eh? Let’s see what you’re hidin'.”

Ekko’s grip tightened on his bat, his stance shifting. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Oh, well we do,” the smaller man sneered, pulling a knife from his belt.

Before Ekko could spring into action, a faint crimson glow bathed the alley. The air grew heavy, almost suffocating, as the markings on your skin flared to life. The metallic scent of blood hung in the air, and the two men froze, their bravado crumbling as their bodies seized up, limbs locking unnaturally.

Ekko turned, his jaw slack as he watched you step forward, your hand raised delicately. The men’s weapons clattered to the ground, and with a flick of your wrist, they crumpled, gasping for breath but unharmed.

“Leave,” you said, your voice calm but commanding, as if the very air bent to your will. The men scrambled to their feet and disappeared into the shadows without a second glance. The glow faded from your body as you turned back to Ekko, your serene smile returning as though nothing had happened. “See? I told you I could handle myself.”

He stared at you, his bat still half-raised. “What the hell was that?”

“Blood technomagic,” you said simply, brushing an invisible speck of dust from your sleeve. “It’s a bit… intimidating, I know. I don’t like using it unless I have to.”

“Intimidating?” he repeated, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief. “You just turned two full-grown men into rag dolls without breaking a sweat.”

You shrugged, your smile faltering slightly. “I don’t want people to see me as a monster. That’s why I try to be kind—to balance it out.”

“Balance it out?” Ekko stepped closer, his eyes searching yours. “You’re not a monster, Firefly. You just saved both our asses.”

The nickname caught you off guard, your cheeks warming as you looked away. “You don’t have to call me that.”

“Uh! Yeah, I do,” he said, his tone softening. “You’re out here lighting up Zaun like no one else can.” Silence stretched between you for a moment.

“Come on,” Ekko said finally, offering you his hand. “Let’s get out of here before more trouble shows up.”

You hesitated, glancing down at his outstretched hand. Despite the power coursing through your veins, the ability to command life and death with a flick of your wrist, something about the gesture made you feel vulnerable in a way you weren’t used to.

But then you took his hand, his grip warm and steady, and for the first time in a long while, you felt safe with him. As he led you through the winding streets of Zaun, he glanced back at you with a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “You know, Firefly, you’re full of surprises.”

“Jeez! You’re full of compliments,” you teased, your voice light despite the lingering weight in your chest.

“Do i?, or do you just deserve all the praise one can get.” he shot back, his grin widening.

. . .

Oh, how you wished that it was just the end. But it wasnt, not in a place like this. Soon after both smoke and ash swirled in the air, a haze of chaos and destruction painted Zaun’s underbelly in muted tones of gray and orange. Shattered pipes hissed steam into the atmosphere, nearly drowned out by the growing fires. The air was thick with tension, each explosion sending shockwaves through the cracked streets.

Amid the wreckage, Ekko’s heart raced as he sprinted through the winding alleys. His boots echoed sharply against the metal ground, his bat swinging at his side as his thoughts churned. Where are you?

He had only taken his eyes off you for a second, just one second. He thought you’d be right behind him as the bombs started going off, but when he turned, you were gone. He didn’t see the men closing in on you until it was too late.

Ekko gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting. He had heard of the Empire you were raised in and its unparalleled mastery of technomagic. But meeting you: sweet, kind, and carrying an unfathomable power, had shattered all his assumptions. You weren’t just a mage but a princess as well. But to him, you were simply you. His light in the dark. And now you were in danger. Seemingly.

When you woke, the metallic tang of blood clung to the air. The room was dim, lit only by the faint red glow of the bindings around your wrists. Your gown, once pristine and clean was dirty by the scuffle, and your heart pounded with a mixture of fear and adrenaline.

“Stay calm,” you whispered to yourself, your voice soft, barely audible.

A group of men stood a few feet away, speaking in low voices. Their uniforms were unmarked, and their expressions betrayed no fear as they glanced at you.

“They doesn’t look like much,” one of them sneered. “For someone called the 'Royal Vermilion of Chaos', I expected… more.”

“It’s a stupid nickname at that” someone else said, though you couldn’t see them.

You flinched inwardly but forced yourself to remain composed. “I don’t suppose you’d let me go if I said please?” you asked, your tone almost playful despite the trembling in your hands.

“Cute,” another said with a scoff as his hand cupped your face. “But we know what you are. What you’re capable of. Better to keep you tied up.”

Your smile faltered slightly as your blood hummed beneath your skin, an ever-present pulse of magic just waiting to be unleashed. You had always been careful, never letting your power consume you. But now, fear began to stir something unstable.

Ekko burst into the place like a storm, his bat taking down the first guard before the man could even draw his weapon. The second came at him with a blade, but Ekko ducked and swung upward, sending the man sprawling.

“Where is they?!” he growled, his voice echoing through the metallic halls.

The third guard hesitated, and Ekko pressed the bat against his chest. “Talk, or you won’t have the chance to regret it.”

“Down the hall,” the guard stammered, eyes wide. “In the main chamber!”

Ekko didn’t wait for anything else. He tore through the hallway, his chest tightening with every step.

The explosion was deafening. The bindings around your wrists melted away as your magic surged to life. Crimson veins glowed beneath your skin, and with a single wave of your hand, the room erupted in chaos. The men who had mocked you moments before were now scrambling, their weapons useless against the tidal wave of energy that lashed out.

Walls were cracked, the ceiling shuddered, and the air itself seemed to bend to your will. But as your power spiraled, a sharp pain shot through your arm. You looked down to see a jagged cut along your forearm, blood dripping onto the floor. The sight steadied you. Taking a deep breath, you channeled the magic inward, watching as the blood wove itself back into your skin. The wound closed, leaving only a faint scar that glimmered for a moment before fading. When the door burst open, you turned, your energy still crackling around you like a storm.

“Firefly!” Ekko’s voice broke through the chaos, and for a moment, you hesitated.

His eyes darted across the room, taking in the destroyed walls, the unconscious bodies, and you, standing at the center of it all. Your gown was soaked in blood, and your face bore streaks of crimson, but you were alive.

“Hi,” you whispered, relief flooding your voice.

In an instant, he was in front of you, his hands cupping your face. His thumbs brushed against the bloodstains on your cheeks, his eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” you said softly, a shaky smile forming. “But I think you should ask them if they’re okay.” You gestured to the men sprawled across the floor.

Ekko’s lips twitched, a short, breathless laugh escaping him. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if afraid you might disappear. “Y’know I was so scared,” he murmured into your hair, his voice cracking.

You hugged him back, your fingers curling into his jacket. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean for it to get this bad.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze intense. “This isn’t your fault. None of it is.”

You met his eyes, the tension slowly ebbing away as his warmth grounded you. For a moment, the chaos around you faded, leaving only the two of you.

“That was incredible, y’know?” he said, a teasing grin forming.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound light and genuine. “I’ll take that as one of your compliments.”

Ekko shook his head, his grin widening. “Come on, let’s get you out of here before you decide to redecorate the rest of Zaun.”

As you left the hideout, his arm stayed firmly around your shoulders, his presence a constant reassurance. Despite the destruction you had left behind, Ekko’s steady hand in yours made you feel like everything might just be okay.

Later, the two of you sat in the a garden. It was one of the few quiet, untouched spots in Zaun. Ekko couldn’t help but tease you. “So, Firefly,” he began, his tone playful. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “I wouldn’t hurt you, though.”

“I know,” he said, his voice softer now. “But next time, maybe warn me before you turn an entire room into a scene from a horror movie?”

You laughed, the sound bright and free, and Ekko felt his chest tighten. Despite everything, you were still you. His sweet, kind Firefly who somehow carried the weight of a mage’s power with grace. And as the neon lights of Zaun reflected in your eyes, Ekko leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you,” he said quietly, the words simple but sincere.

You smiled, leaning into him. “I love you too.” The two of you stayed at the garden until dawn. You were practically sleeping on his shoulder, exhausted from today, but he didn’t mind. Because he knew soon that you would have to leave, and god knows when he will see you again. So he wanted to cherish every moment he had with you.

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[paige1722]

Silent Night

Summary: It is Christmas time in your village. The weather has taken a drastic turn, and everyone fears that the blizzard will never end. The people become desperate and willing to take any measures necessary to save themselves, even if it means sacrificing one of their own to a once-forgotten demon. 

Pairing: Krampus!Konig x GN!Reader

Warnings: Krampus, death, google translated German, violence. 

Merry Christmas!!! If you want to read an alternative version where the reader gets revenge, it’s here.

The village you call home resides in the middle of the forest, a few day's journey from the nearest town. This usually means nothing really exciting ever happens here; everyone knew one another, and nothing stayed a secret for long. This year, things had been different. The weather grew colder earlier than normal, the fields did not produce much food, and the hunting expeditions proved to be unsuccessful, with only being able to get small game, such as rabbits and squirrels.

The blizzard that came to the town a week ago did not seem to be lessening in strength; in fact, you even believe that it was getting worse with every passing day.  As you looked out of the window of your small cottage near the center of town, where you would usually be able to see your neighbors, the bakery, and the church in the middle of the town. But with the blizzard, you could barely even see your small garden in front of your doorstep that is now destroying your precious plants, and all the hard work you put into it over the spring and summer. The harsh wind caused the window panes to groan, and the snow kept piling up more and more. You wager that pretty soon, it will be impossible to leave your cottage. 

If it wasn’t for the small fireplace keeping your cottage cozy and warm all this time you are sure you would have already frozen to death in this horrible winter. A knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts. Wondering who would be at your door so early in the morning, especially in this weather. Making your way to the front door, you open it to see Philip, the assistant to the village leader; opening the door more, he quickly makes his way inside after kicking off the snow from his boots. Once inside, he makes his way towards your fireplace placing his hand in front of the fire, trying to gain some feeling back into his joints. 

“Philip, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” you asked, closing the door behind him and moving to stand in the middle of your living room. 

He turns around, placing his hands around his back to keep them in front of the fire; you are now able to get a better look at him. He looks thin, sickly almost. The food shortage must really be taking a toll on him, his face is unshaven, and his once nice thick animal fur coat has seen better days as it looks to have been ripped apart in some places and hastily sewn back together, surely a child you have done a better job fixing his jacket. 

“Yes, I have been tasked with letting everyone know that at noon today, there will be an emergency village meeting in the church. It is mandatory for everyone to be in attendance.” 

You feel your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. There had not been an emergency meeting called ever since you were a little child, and there had been a huge wildfire that nearly destroyed the entire village; a lot of lives were lost that day. “Oh, okay. By any chance, do you know what the meeting will be about?” 

At your innocent question, Philip squints his eye, looking at you up and down suspiciously, clenching his jaw and taking quick steps towards you. He points an accusatory finger in your face, causing you to step back at his fast approach. “It does not matter what the meeting is about. You are required to be in attendance, understand?” 

Your back hit the wall separating the living room from the kitchen; setting your hands flat against the wall to your back, you nod your head in shock, confused as to why he is acting this way. Philip was usually a kind man, not quick to anger. This was a different side of him you had never seen before and did not want to see again. “Yes, I will be there,” you reply in a shaky voice, startled by the sudden mood shift. 

Suddenly, like the drop of a hat, he steps back from you, smoothing down his jacket and giving you one of his signature smiles. Chuckling, Philip walks back toward the front door, his hand on the door handle when he looks back over his shoulder over at you, where you are still pressed up against the wall. “I look forward to seeing you at the meeting then,” he winks as he opens the door, letting himself out back into the cold. 

Once the door shuts, you let out the breath you had been holding, unsure why he was acting so strange. What does it matter if you were not going to attend the meeting? Though with his reaction at the thought that you were not going had him acting like that, you fear to think of what he would actually do if you failed to make an appearance. Not to mention, you are very curious as to the details of this emergency meeting; perhaps it was about food rations or the never-ending blizzard. You walk into your kitchen, planning to fix yourself a small breakfast, as you retrieve what little bread you had left from the bakery and some jam; this would have to do you until supper time after the meeting. The rations you were given earlier in the week dwindling faster than you would have liked. Sitting at the small table in the kitchen, you enjoy your breakfast, again thinking about the strange encounter with Philip and his sudden change in attitude and demeanor. After finishing your bread with jam, you decide to do some chores around your house to waste time until noon.  

—----

You glance at the small hand-carved clock on your wall. Seeing that it is a quarter past eleven, you make your way to your front door, putting on the thickest coat you own, your gloves, and winter boots. Opening the door and closing it behind you, you wrap your coat tightly around you, pulling up the collar to cover the bottom half of your face as you venture down the snow-covered stone path that leads throughout the village. You see your neighbors already making their way inside the church. Two men stand outside wrapped in thick fur jackets and hats, each holding lanterns to light the path to the church, a way to help people see through the thick snow falling from the sky. You trudge through the thick snow, carefully walking up the ice-covered steps to the entrance. The two men, who you now recognize as Simon and Johnny, who are the town’s butchers, open the massive doors. You mumble a quick thank you to the men and make your way inside the warm church. Not noticing the sympathetic look they send your way as you walk past them.

Looking around the massive sanctuary, a long line of lit candles operas on either side of the pew give the room an almost eerie glow. You realize you are one of the last villagers to arrive, seeing as most of the pews are already filled to the brim with people waiting for the meeting to start. You decide to sit in the back where there is still a little bit of space left, sitting next to one of your more elderly neighbors, you give a small smile in greeting, not having interacted with them much before. You take off your thick jacket and hang it on the back of the pew you were sitting on, and continue looking around the room. At the front, standing in front of the pulpit, stands Philip Graves, talking in hushed tones to the village leader, Shepherd. They look to be arguing, judging by the looks on their faces. Philip turns his head, looking near the door, when he makes eye contact with you, but instead of acknowledging you as he normally would in passing, he turns back to Shepherd, whispering in his ear, both of them now looking more relaxed than they were just mere seconds ago, another strange occurrence happening today, something in the air you supposed. 

The front doors slamming closed behind you cause you to jump a bit, turning around in your seat to see Johnny and Simon standing inside the church, placing the lanterns on the golden hooks on either side of the doors. Instead of finding a seat in the room, they move to stand in front of the doors, reminding you of guards to a prison cell. A throat clearing causes you to turn your attention back to the front of the church, where Shepherd now stands behind the podium with Philip by his side.

“Thank you all so much for joining us today for this emergency meeting. We know that things have been tough this year with the lack of game and crops and now this never-ending blizzard. But fear not, your village leader and others have come up with a solution that will surely save us all from this torment.” 

Applause erupts throughout the church at this news. For some reason, you feel a sense of dread overcome you at this news. Something about this whole situation does not sit right with you. Why is Philip staring at you so intensely? Why was it so important that you come to this meeting, and why are Simon and Johnny blocking the exit like that? All these questions run through your head, causing you to break out into a cold sweat. Shepherd once again starts talking, making everyone stop their applause. 

“Now, I know you all must be wondering as to what the solution to our problem is. Philip and I have been scouring the old texts, trying to find anything that might be of help to save our village from this ongoing turmoil. After a many sleepless nights, we finally came across this.” 

Philip holds up an old leather-bound book with a small bell engraved on the front; the pages look worn and old, as if it hasn’t been used in decades. Placing the book down in front of Shepherd, who continues his speech, “In this book, we discovered a chapter that describes exactly the events that are taking place before us today: no food, endless winter that ends in nothing but death for all of us unless we act now! This book tells of an ancient being, whose name shall not be uttered here, that is the cause of all this. Apparently, we have managed to anger him last Christmas during our festivities, and he is now taking it out on us. To appease his wrath, we must give him an offering. There was a list of rules that must be followed or else the offering will not work and just invoke more devastation upon us. After careful consideration, there is only one person who fulfills the demands.” 

Shepherd locks eyes with you, you feel your heart pounding in your chest, the room suddenly becomes too hot, sweat beads down your face. You see his mouth moving, but you can hear nothing over the ringing in your ears. Everyone in the conjugation is now staring at you, waiting for what you aren’t sure. Stumbling, you stand up, still facing the front of the church, and slowly begin backing up towards the door, but before you can make a run for it, hands wrap around your arms on both sides looking to see who has you in their grasp; you see Simon and Johnny with solemn looks on their faces. They begin dragging you to the front of the church. You try to pull your arms from their grip, but is it no use; kicking your feet, trying anything to free yourself,  tears flow freely from your eyes. You look around at the people of your village pleading with them hoping that someone, anyone, will help you, but as you make eye contact with the people you grew up with they simply turned their heads looking down at the ground a guilty expression on their faces. Reaching the front of the church, Philip grabs you from the grip of the two butchers; Simon whispers an solem apology in your ear as they hand you over to your inevitable demise. 

Your back is pressed against Philips's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you, keeping you in place. He rests his chin on your head, “Tomorrow, everything will be back to normal once the demon has his offering! Return to your homes and await the glorious rewards that will be gifted upon us all!” He yells out, his chest rumbling against your back. You let out a whimper. as you watch everyone slowly rise from their seats and make their way toward the entrance of the church, leaving you with Shepherd and Philip. “Please don’t do this, there must be another way!!” you yell out desperation clear in your voice, but it is no use; the front doors slam shut as the last of the villagers return to their homes. 

Shepherd grabs a rope from his pocket and stands in front of you, “Ah fear not. Think about the good your sacrifice will bring to the people of this village, all the lives you will save.” His gaze moves towards Philip, “Take her to the back for them to get her ready.” He pulls your wrists together in front of yo,u tying them tightly together. Once the rope is secure, Philip lets go of you and grabs the rope, binding your hands together pulling towards the back of the church. Sniffiling you let Philip drag you down the dark hallways leading to the offices. Opening the door to Shepherd’s office, Philip throws you inside the room, causing you to fall, hitting the ground causing a shockwave of pain through your body from where your knees and elbows slam against the wooden floor. 

“Here, get them ready,” Philip says as he shuts the door on his way out. 

Pulling yourself to your feet, you see who he is talking to. Valeria stands in the center of the room, a bored expression on her face, her arms crossed in front of her chest. The room is empty, apart from a single chair and table in the middle of the room, a red silk robe, a veil, and two small boxes. Sighing, she steps forward, pushing you to sit in the chair in the middle of the room.

 Grabbing her arm, you try to plead with her, “Please, Valeria, you have to help me. They mean to use me as some sort of sacrifice to a demon, please.” She rips her arm out of your hands, slapping you across the face. A disgusted look crosses her features as she replies, “Shut up, your sacrifice is what is best for the village. So stop crying. You are only going to make this worse for yourself and ruin the work I am about to put into making you look presentable for him.” 

Your face now burning the slap, you sit in defeat, feeling all forms of fight leave your body; even if you did manage to escape from this room, there was nowhere you could go, the other villagers already showing you that they don’t care about you if you went back home they would just find you and drag you back to where you are now, and if you tried to run for it, you would surely die due to the elements. 

Valeria grabs the silk robe, scrutinizing at your hands that are still tied together, “No funny business, understand. Just put this robe on.” you solemnly nod in return; she grabs your hands and begins to untie them, placing the red robe in your hands. You stare at her, waiting for her to turn around so you can change, but you quickly realize that will not be happening. Trying to save the little dignity you have left, you take off your sweater, putting the robe on, hoping that she will let you keep your warm pants on but she snaps and points to your pants. “Just the robe. It is the rules.” Taking off your pants and placing them in the small pile of clothes on the ground, as you are done, she immediately grabs your hands, tying your wrists back together much tighter than they were previously.

Every movement you make now causes the rough fabric of the rope to rub against your skin. Looking down at the robe you are now wearing, you quickly realize how thin the fabric is. It is definitely not something you should be wearing during this kind of weather, probably to make it more convenient for the demon to kill or eat you. Valeria motions for you to sit back down in the chair with her hand as she opens one of the small boxes laying on the table inside was filled with small paints usually reserved for weddings and other important ceremonies, she begins to draw strange symbols upon your skin, leading from your face, down your arms to your chest. Once she is satisfied with her work, she reaches for the matching red veil, placing it upon your head; you are still able to see through the fabric of the red veil, though it does give everything a strange blurry tint. 

All that can be heard in the room is the occasional sniffle coming from you, trying to hold back any more tears from falling, knowing that Valeria would not be happy with you if you ruined the writing she had just finished putting on your skin. When the door opens and Philip and Shepherd both enter the room, “Are you finished yet?” asks Philip, walking to where you sit inspecting Valeria’s handiwork. 

“Just have to put on the necklace, and we are all set,” she says as she grabs the remaining box sitting on the table, opening it to reveal a beautiful golden necklace with a small pendant that looks very similar to the bell that was engraved on the front of the leather book that they were referencing during the emergency meeting earlier. She places the necklace around your neck, fastening it in the back and tucking it underneath the robe you were forced to wear.

 Everything started to feel too real at that moment. What was about to happen to you setting in, causing you to let out a whimper, but before you could begin pleading for your life, hoping to somehow change their minds, Sheppard pulls out a small piece of cloth, “Now we can’t have you making all that noise, the demon would not appreciate that.” He lifts up the veil, shoving the cloth in your mouth and tying it around the back of your head, effectively silencing you and placing the veil back over your face.

 Shepherd claps his hands together, taking a step back, “Thank you for your help, Valeria. Alright, Philip, grab them and let's go.” Philip grabs the rope around your wrist, dragging you off the chair, the rope squeezing your wrists, causing you to let out a pained gasp that is muffled by the cloth in your mouth. They drag you back out to the sanctuary of the church towards the front door, where you see Simon and Johnny once again holding the lanterns. Once you reach them, they open the doors for you all, dragged out in the snow wearing nothing but the thin robe the freezing air immediately making goose-bumps form on your skin, you let out an involuntary shiver, the ice, and snow covered ground causing your feet to burn with every step. Johnny and Simon now lead the way with their lanterns. Shepherd is in the middle of them telling them which direction to go in, with Philip following close behind, pulling you along with him into the dark forest. 

—-

Walking for what felt like hours, you can no longer feel your legs, you're pretty sure your wrists are now bleeding due to the rope rubbing against your skin, causing it to break. Every intake of breath hurts, the cold air burning your lungs and throat. As you all reach a clearing in the middle of the forest where only a single tree stands surrounded by small torches sticking out of the ground, everyone stops walking. 

Philip yanks you towards the tree, pulling out another rope from inside his fur jacket, and ties one end of the rope around the rope, holding your wrists together. Once secured around your bound wrists, he throws the other end of the rope around one of the lower hanging branches of the tree and pulls the rope until your arms are straining above your head and your toes are barely scraping the ground. You let out muffled groans of pain and fear. He secures the rope around the trunk of the tree, stepping back and joining Shepherd, who stands in front of you. Johnny and Simon are walking around to the torches, lighting them with the fire from their lanterns. Shepherd reading through the leather-bound book, a look of malice taking over his face, muttering to himself, “This time, we will get him.” 

Once the last torch has been lit, and all four men all standing in front of you, Johnny and Simon looking anywhere but your face. Shepherd says, “This is where we leave you. Thank you for your sacrifice.” before turning with the others and leaving you to your death.

 As you watch them all walk away, the light from the lanterns slowly fades away until you can no longer see it. You begin to try to free yourself from the tree. Tears run down your face and neck, causing the writing on your skin to smear, bleeding into the fabric of the robe tied around your body. You try and scream to the best of your ability, but the cloth in your mouth muffling your shouts sounds more like a wounded animal. Flailing around trying to somehow untie the ropes on the tree or your wrist, but all you end up accomplishing is tightening the knots, burying the rope farther into your skin, the blood from the open wounds on your wrists running down your arms. You are now sobbing uncontrollably, resigning yourself to your inevitable death, whether it be freezing to death, the demon or whatever it actually is killing you, or some wild animal finding you first. 

Running out of energy from the walk here, crying, failing around, screaming, and the cold that has turned your entire body numb, you begin to feel tired, struggling to keep your eyes open, thinking to yourself hopefully your sacrifice will not be in vain and the people of your town will be saved. Until, from the darkness, you begin to hear the distance sound of bells jingling closer and closer. Eventually, you hear the crunch of snow as if someone or something was walking towards you. 

You try and blink the tears from your eyes to clear your vision, but with the veil still covering your face, your vision still remains blurry, a huge figure emerges from the trees, standing nearly seven feet tall with twisted horns protruding from underneath the dark red hood covering his face and body. With every step it draws closer to you, you catch small glimpses of the jingling of bells hanging on a chain wrapped around his torso from underneath the red cloak. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, fear overtaking your body, causing your adrenaline to rise, once again trying to pull your arms free. He stops right in front of where you are hanging from the tree, even dangling in the air, the top of your head barely level with his chin. The soft glow from the torches circling you gives off an eerie glow to whatever is standing in front of you, his face hidden in the shadows of his hood, though you swear that you can see eyes staring right through you. Realizing that this is the end for you, you let out muffled whimpers, not caring how pathetic you must seem right now. 

“Warum bist du hier draußen?” The demon in front of you utters, staring at you expectantly for your answer. 

Even if you were somehow able to understand what he had just said, you would not be able to answer him anyway, so you just shake your head, replying with a muffled what. You see its head tilt to the side in confusion before a gloved hand reaches up and pulls the veil off your head. Your vision is no longer obstructed, and you are able to make out the being in front of you more clearly. A flicker of the light from the torches illuminated the masked man in front of you. 

The mask peeking out from under the hood had twisted horns sticking out of the forehead, where the eyes would be were two holes his eyes shining through the darkness, and the mouth was open with sharp teeth and a long red serpent-looking tongue carved onto the front of the mask, reminding you of the old stories your grandmother used to tell you when you were a small child of an ancient demon who arrived during winter to steal and punish the naughty children. Your eyes widen in realization, muttering, “Krampus.” Even with the cloth still in your mouth, he must have understood you, as you hear a small chuckle in return. 

“Ah, so you have heard of me then. It has been a while since I have been called that, just call me Konig.” His accent is thick as he speaks, reaching for the cloth impairing your ability to say. He pulls the fabric out of your mouth, letting it hang around your neck. “Now, let's try this again, ja. Why are you out here?” 

Sniffling and your teeth chattering because of how cold you are, you manage to say “They said I was supposed to be some kind of offering to save the village. I…I don’t know anything else.” Sobs rack through your body. Looking back up into the eyes of the demon before you, you notice that little black dots begin to swarm your vision, the ringing in your ears was back the cold, pain,  and everything was begining to seem so far away. Using the last bit of strength you had left before you passed out for what you assumed would be for good, you mumbled, “…I don’t want to die.”

Your head lolls backwards, causing the necklace to be pulled out from underneath the robe, catching the eye of Konig whose eyes widen at the pendant hanging from your neck. He quickly pulls out the hunting knife from its sheath on his belt as he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you from falling to the ground. He cut the rope around your wrists, your unconscious body falling forward into his chest. He feels the cold from your body seeping through his gloves and cloak. He removes the cloak from around his body and wraps you up in it as best he can to hopefully begin warming you up. He cradles you in his arms as delicately as he possibly can as he whispers to your sleeping form, “Es wird alles gut. Ich werde dich beschützen.” 

—---

You feel warm; whatever you're laying on is soft and fluffy. Peeking an eye open to take in the surroundings, you notice that you are on a bed of thick animal furs in some sort of cabin. The room you are in is small, with nothing really in it besides the bed, a small lantern placed on a bedside table, and a large mirror placed next to the door. You sit up in the bed, and you notice that your wrists no longer hurt, you look to find that both of your wrists are delicately wrapped in bandages. Hearing noise coming from the other side of the door, you pull back the furs covering you to slip out of the bed and make your way towards the door. Once you are standing, you look in the mirror so that you get a better look at the new outfit you are wearing. A red knitted sweater you now wear with black wool pants; examining your arms, face, and neck, you don’t see any traces of the strange writing Valeria placed on your skin. When the sounds of movement behind the door once again grab your attention. Walking towards the door, you slowly open the door walking out into what looks to be the main room of the house. 

Stepping out of the room, the first thing you notice is the Krampus or Konig you vaguely remember him saying is his name, he sits in the corner of the room with his back facing you, hunched over a crafting table lined with various tools on the wall. Along with the tools hanging on the wall, you see the mask Konig was wearing when he found you in the forest, placed gently on a small hook. 

As you walk further into the area you look around the room you are now in what you assume is the living room with the front door next to the small room you just exited, a window on the other side of the door, a small fireplace in the center of the room with a cozy chair facing it, two other doors on the opposite side where Konig sits, and a corridor that look as if it leads into what you assume in the kitchen. You let out a small hum, this house is much smaller and cozier than what you would have assumed an ancient demon who abducts and punishes bad children would live in. During your observation of the house, you failed to notice that Konig had stopped working and was now standing facing you, the mask back on his face. 

“I was starting to think that you would not wake up.” His voice startling you in the otherwise silent house. 

“How long was I asleep?” you ask tentatively, thinking that it was probably just a couple of hours, seeing that it was still dark outside, judging by the lack of light coming in from the window near the front door of the house. 

“A day, I feared your wounds and the cold was too much for you. I tried my best, but my powers are not usually used for helping people.” Seeing him in this light was very strange, even though he still towered over you, he seemed to be trying to make himself appear smaller, probably trying not to scare you, after all you think that you have had enough excitement for a lifetime.

You glance down at your wrists, then gently brush your fingers over the bandages. "Oh... um, thank you for helping me," you say quietly. "Does this mean... my village won't be saved after all? I didn’t think it was possible to fail at being an offering."

He lets out a cruel laugh at your question, his accent even thicker now. “Your village..” he spits out venom in his voice…”They are lucky that I just leave them to fend for themselves during this winter and that I don’t take revenge for what they have done to you by slaughtering them all. I have done more for much less.” 

Nervously, you absentmindedly bring your hand up to the jewelry that still lays around your neck, twirling the small bell pendant between your fingers, Konig’s eyes tracing your movements. “But..but why they said we had angered you last Christmas and this was the only way to put an end to the suffering you have plagued us with, the…book it said-” He cuts you off by walking towards you, his hand wraps gently around yours holding the necklace, careful of your wounds caressing your hand.

“I was not angry then but I am now, anyways that is not how I work. I do not know what lies they have told you, but I have no control over the crops, animals, or weather, that is not my doing.”

As he goes to pull his hand away you grab his wrist pleading with him, “no, that is not right. The only reason they left me out there like that was because the book said an offering to you would save the village. Why else would they do that to me?” you whisper the last part mostly to yourself, not seeing any other reason for the actions of the people in your village.

 You see his eyes soften from behind the mask, stepping closer his presence only a breath away from you now, cupping your checks and wiping away tears that you did not realize had fallen. “The book you speak of is an ancient book of an offering; this is to be given to me yes, but not for sacrifice or as a way to save a village from misfortune. It speaks of tying someone to me. Bonding their soul to mine forever. I do not know why but I assume they wanted someone to blame for their misfortunes, and I was it. By leaving you to me, writing the runes upon your skin…” his hands now trace your checks down your neck, and your arms where the writing was previously written, “ and wearing my necklace, and since I accepted the offering when I brought you back here with me, we are now linked together forever.” 

You stare into his eyes, looking to see if he is telling the truth, finding no lies within his eyes you take a deep breath, your head beginning to hurt with all this new information thrown at you. “I think I need to sit down for a moment,” you say in a breathless whisper.

 Konig guides you to the cozy-looking chair sitting in front of the fireplace, placing your head in your hands you lean forward, your elbows on your knees, closing your eyes trying to make sense of everything. Instead of being killed by Krampus like you originally thought you being a sacrifice for the good of the village and everyone in it, they tied your soul to his, making you his soulmate. No matter how long you thought about it you just couldn't make sense of it, how would this solve anything? Why would giving the being they thought responsible for all their troubles a soulmate solve anything. 

Lifting your head up from your hands you look up at Konig, who is walking back over to where you sit now holding a glass of water, he must have gone to the kitchen while you were deep in thought. He wordlessly hands you the glass of water, you take a long sip of water not realizing how thirsty you were until that moment. Gasping you say, “Thank you. But I still don’t understand how would this solve anything for the village then? Why would they essentially be rewarding you, if they thought you were the bad guy?” 

Taking the now-empty glass from your hands, he lets out a deep sigh. “Once your soul is bound to mine, I have a weakness. Through me, you will have an immortal life, not aging another day as I, but you are still human able to be killed, if you die, I die with you.” 

At the sudden news, you jump up out of your seat, craining your head to look up at him but before you could say anything, he adds “do not worry they cannot find you here. No harm will ever come to you, especially not while you wear my necklace. Plus, even if they somehow managed to find their way to my forest they would have to make it through the elves first, and they do not play nicely.” His eyes shine with a knowing look like he knows exactly what would become of anyone who makes there way here without his permission. 

Before you could say anything else your stomach starts growling, causing your face to feel warm with embarrassment. Konig lets out a chuckle, “Ah, how rude of me. You must be very hungry, ja. Let us get you some food. Come.” 

He reaches his hand out in front of you. You slowly place your hand in his, he gently pulls you to your feet and starts leading you down the corridor to the kitchen. Now that his hand is in yours, you can feel the rough callouses on his skin from years of use. Upon entering the kitchen, you did not expect to see the table already full of delicious-looking food, gasping you look at Konig in question, who simply shrugs his shoulder in response pulling out a chair at the table for you to sit at. 

“Do not be shy; have as much as you like.” He says as he sits on the seat on your right, making a plate for himself and piling it high with meat. You begin making your plate, putting a little bit of everything on it, wanting to try everything as most of the food before you is something you have never seen before. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Konig reach up and grab the mask obscuring his face and taking it off and place it in the spot next to him on the table. Your eyes rake over the scars on his face, he must have felt your gaze on him because he turns his head to stare at you. 

Giving you a sheepish smile, he apologizes, “I am sorry. I know I am not very nice to look at, but it is difficult to eat with the mask on.” 

Shaking your head, “No, you have nothing to apologize for. You just didn’t look how I expected Krampus to look; you are handsome.” 

Not knowing how to respond to your kindness, Konig just gives you a grateful smile before continuing to eat, you shortly following his lead. 

—-

You've been living with Konig for a few weeks now, and in that time, you've learned a lot about him. He makes toys—though they're unlike anything Santa would create—and the strange creations often come to life, causing chaos wherever they go. He's also started wearing his mask less frequently around the house, especially when it's just the two of you. Still, every now and then, a quiet worry creeps into your mind about the people in your village. You can't help but wonder if they managed to survive the blizzard and the food shortages.

Today, Konig was teaching you how to create snowglobes at his workstation. It turned out to be much more difficult than you’d expected, especially when it came to crafting the perfect sculpture to fit inside. Though you weren’t the best at it, Konig seemed to enjoy teaching you, and that made it all worthwhile.

“Look, Schatz,” he said with a proud smile. “It’s us.”

You stopped what you were doing and turned to see the small sculpture in his hands—a perfect replica of you and him, standing side by side. You gasped in awe. “Wow, that’s beautiful!”

Konig handed you the sculpture, and as you ran your fingers over the intricate details of the hand-carved masterpiece, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth.

“I still have to add color, so I am not done yet.” He sheepishly adds, rubbing the back of his neck at all your praise.

Sudden bangs and the chaos of shouting erupted outside the house, the sounds of a violent struggle growing louder. Konig stands up, grabs your arm, and pulls you up beside him. He begins dragging you to his bedroom. Once inside, he gently places you in the middle of the room and grabs his mask off the nightstand where it usually stays now. 

“Stay here, Liebling, do not come out until I come back for you.” Even with his face now covered, you can see the concern for your safety reflecting in his eyes. 

Konig turns to leave the room, but before he can make it out of the door, leaving you behind, you run up behind him and grab ahold of his wrist, stopping him in his tracks, “Konig, what’s happening? Don’t leave me alone.” 

Pausinghe turns to face you, fully reaching up with both hands on your cheeks. He caresses your face, softly rubbing his thumbs over the apple of your cheeks, “Everything is going to be okay. Just stay here, please.” 

Staring into his eyes, wanting to beg him to stay with you and just let his elves handle whatever is happening outside, you know that he does need to go out there; he is Krampus, after all, and is more than capable of taking care of himself. You nod, your face still in his grasp. He leans forward but pauses as if he is second-guessing himself. Letting out a deep sigh from his chest, he put the mouth of the mask on your forehead before walking towards the door, giving you one last glance over, ensuring your safety before he leaves, and shutting the door to his room behind him. You can hear his heavy footsteps throughout the house, the front door open and closed shut, leaving you all alone in the house. 

The noise outside has yet to stop; maybe it was just your nerves, but you feel as if, every passing second, he is out there. Something bad could be happening, but you know he is a demon and only truly has one weakness. Which is why he told you to stay in his room, where he knows you will be safe. Trying to clear your mind from the turmoil outside, you begin pacing around his room, counting the number of steps it takes to walk from one corner to the next. You continue to do this for the next couple of minutes while all the noise outside seems to have died down, allowing you to hear some muffled yelling. Right now, you can only make out Konig’s voice, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go out into the living room so that way you can hear more of what is happening. 

Quietly, you open the bedroom door, the hinges squeaking, causing you to flinch. Wrapping your arms around your middle, you walk out into the living room towards the front door, placing your ear upon the cool wood. Konig is yelling at someone; his accent becomes thicker the angrier he gets, which sometimes makes him harder to understand. After a brief moment of punching sounds, you hear someone who sounds vaguely familiar, “You killed her, didn’t you, you monster!!” 

You gasp, covering your mouth. You throw open the door, rushing outside in the cold, not thinking about grabbing the fur jacket Konig made specially for you. You run down the stairs on the porch. You see Konig standing tall and menacingly in the yard. His elves are all lined up facing him. They are all holding weapons of some kind, looking as rowdy as ever, the bells on the chains wrapped around their body jingling in the wind. You run as fast as you can to where Konig stands, where two elves are standing out from the crowd holding two prisoners hostages, making them kneel before Konig. 

Sensing you, Konig whips around his body language, immediately softening at the sight of you, “Liebling, it is too cold for you to be out here.” By the time you reach him, he has already removed his thick red cloak throwing it over your shoulders and wrapping it around your body. 

You place your hands on his chest, bunching up his shirt in your grip, “No, Konig! Please don’t hurt them. They are from my village.” Motioning to where the two elves are holding a beaten and bloody Simon and Johnny. 

Johnny and Simon are drenched in blood, from head to toe, and you can only hope it’s not all theirs. Their arms are covered in cuts, and their faces are swollen and bruised from what looks like repeated punches. Chains are wrapped tightly around their upper bodies, and the elves standing behind them keep a firm hold, forcing them to kneel in the snow.

At the sight of you in Konig’s arms, Johnny and Simon struggle in the chains, causing the elves to tighten the chains, making them let out pained groans. 

Johnny speaks first, “You’re alive!! We went back to the forest that night to save you. Simon and I decided that we couldn’t just leave you out there to die, but when we arrived back at the sight, you were gone, nothing left but the rope.” Guilt fills his voice, looking at you for forgiveness. 

Simon moves to stand up, but the elf kicks his leg, causing him to fall back on his knees; looking over his shoulder, he glares at the elf, cursing under his breath. He tries again, jerking his shoulders forward to create some slack in the chain. Once standing, he takes a half step towards you; seeing this, Konig steps in front of you more, making you peek around his back to see what Simon has to say. 

“When we got back to the village and told everyone about how we were unsuccessful in rescuing you, everyone started rioting, blaming Shepherd and Philip, saying there should have been another way. They…they told Johnny and I that the book said there was a way to save you. We just had to find Krampus’s hideout and kill him.” Simon glances at Konig, seeing his protective stance around you, and begins rethinking everything he was told by the village leaders.

A loud clapping coming from behind all the elves draws everyone’s attention; Shepherd appears from the darkness, clapping his hands together slowly. Konig moves forward, growling, “What are you doing here?” 

Shepherd lets out a loud mocking laugh, “I told you before, Konig. I would get my revenge for what you did to my family. I have been planning my revenge for years. Did you not think I wouldn’t notice you watching them every year and becoming attached to them, so when I was finally able to get my hands on that necklace, I knew this was my chance.” 

Konig rolls his shoulders back, standing up to his full height, with hatred in his eyes. He watches Shepherd slowly walk closer to him through the elves who were anxiously waiting for the word to attack. “They were on my list. It is the rules, bad children, and adults who need to be punished. But they have nothing to do with this. Your quarrel is with me.” 

You move to step forward to take comfort behind Konig when you feel someone wrap their arms around you from behind, placing a knife at your throat. You fearfully shout, “Konig!” 

Hearing your cry for help, he turns around but pauses when he sees you in danger, his breath catching in his throat. “Let her go!” he growls. You have never heard him like this before; it sends a shiver down your spine. The elves are holding up their weapons behind Konig, ready to kill for you. 

A laugh rumbles from the chest of the person holding you, one that you used to enjoy hearing the sound of, but now it just sends a sick feeling to your stomach. Philip rests his chin on the top of your head, digging the blade into your neck, causing it to break the skin, a little trial of blood running down your neck. This causes Konig’s entire body to go rigid at the sight of it. He clenches his fists at his side, and you can see the gears turning in his head on how to rescue from his grip without hurting you. 

“You didn’t really expect us not to retaliate against you. I think us giving you a little soulmate was mighty nice of Shepherd and me. I mean, we even gave you some time together before sending in those two as a diversion…” 

He points the knife over at Johny and Simon before placing the knife back at your throat,  “So you wouldn’t suspect us, and we could just waltz on in here and grab your soulmate, killing them essentially killing you. But I really did not expect it to go so easily.” Philip laughs, tightening his arms around you. You silently plead with Konig to do anything. 

Shepherd, having made his way through the horde of elves, pats Konig on the back condescendingly, “Now you will know what it is like to lose everything, but you’ll be joining them shortly.” 

The chains around Johnny and Simon had slackened considerably due to the elves' concern for you and Konig’s safety. Simon used the slack of the chain to throw it around Shepherd's neck, pulling back into his hold. Shepherd’s hands immediately go to the chain around his throat, trying to keep it from choking him, but to no avail; Simon is not letting go, no matter how much he struggles. 

Philip removes the knife from your throat to point it threateningly at Simon, “HEY! You let him go now!” 

With the knife no longer about to end your life and Philip distracted, Konig sees the perfect opportunity to strike. Konig rushes forward, grabbing Philip’s hand that holds the knife, bending his wrist back with a sickening crack, causing him to scream out in pain, dropping the knife in the snow. Konig’s other hand wraps around Philip’s throat. He lets go of you in favor of trying to pry off Konig’s hands off his throat. You fall to the snow and crawl out of the way. One of the elves comes up behind you, pulling you in their embrace to keep you safe. Your head is pressed into their chest to keep you from seeing anything that is happening behind you. 

Konig now has both hands wrapped around Philip’s throat, lifting him into the air, his feet no longer touching the ground. Philip is clawing at his hands, gasping out for breath, his face turning colors due to the lack of oxygen. Konig leans forward, whispering in his ear, “Do not touch what is mine.” A loud crack resonates throughout the forest; Philip's hands fall to his limp, throwing his body down. Konig sprints to where you are cowering in the elf's grasp. 

“Liebling, are you okay? What hurts?” He places his hand on your back, trying to access any more damage on you. Feeling Konig’s comforting touch on your back, you throw yourself into his awaiting arms, tears flowing soaking into his shirt. 

“I was so scared; I thought they were going to hurt us.” you sob into his chest; he rubs your back soothingly as you try to catch your breath. 

The familiar sound of the bells jingling causes you and Konig to look over to where Shepherd now lays wrapped in the chains at the feet of Simon and Johnny, who hold both ends of the chains. “Should we kill him?” Johnny asks, looking at Konig. 

Konig stands up with you standing in front of him, wrapped safely in his arms, turning to face them both. “Nein, I have a better idea. Elfen bringen ihn in die Grube.” 

With their orders now given, a handful of elves move forward, snarling and laughing, grabbing the chains from Johnny and Simon and begin dragging Shepherd’s screaming body through the snow towards the pits. 

Konig walks to Simon and Johnny, stopping in front of them with you still with him. Simon looks at you, then Konig, “What are you going to do to us?” asks Simon, sighing regrettably. 

Reaching up and removing the mask covering his face, Konig puts one hand on both of the men's shoulder’s, “You both helped me. Distracting Philip, so I was able to act. Thank you. You are free to return to your village, become the new leaders, and do a better job than those two. Though I must warn you once you leave my forest, you are never to return, or else my elves will not be as kind to you next time.” 

They both nod their heads at Konig in agreement and turn to leave. The rest of the elves make a path for them to walk through, none of the elves messing with either man as per Konig’s wishes. However, it did not stop the elves from keeping a close eye on them until they were completely off their territory. 

Konig kneels down in front of you, placing his head against your stomach, “I was so scared when I saw you in danger. I thought I was about to lose you forever, and I panicked. I am so sorry.” he says, his voice muffled from being pressed against you. Running your hands through his hair, you move his head up to look at you. 

“Konig, you have nothing to be sorry for. I should have listened to you and stayed inside; it was all my fault. I am sorry, but thank you for saving me.” You pull him up and give him a hug. 

Leaning your head back, you look up at his face, staring into each other eyes. He slowly leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His breath fanning your face, standing on your tippy toes, you press your lips to his, feeling your lips on his. He immediately kisses back, placing one hand on the back of your head and pulling you closer to him. 

Cheering and laughter erupt in the background, causing you to pull away from each other. Seeing all the elves going crazy at the sight of you and Konig kissing causes you to throw your head back, laughing before you bury your face in his chest, making him laugh in return. 

“Come on, Liebling. Let’s go back inside.” 

—-

The next day, you and Konig are sitting cuddled up together in the living room in front of the fire, enjoying each other’s company. Konig stops rubbing your back and turns his body to face yours fully, his face full of nervousness. 

“If you want, you can go back to your village. I will understand if you wish to leave, and I will hold no grudges against you or the town. I….” you stop him from talking any further. 

“And if I want to stay here with you?” you ask, looking down shyly, scared that maybe he was saying all that stuff because he did not want you here anymore. 

He places his finger under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him, “then I will spend every day of our life together doing whatever I can to make you happy. Trying to prove to you how much you mean to me.” He leans forward, connecting your lips together in a kiss.

The warm glow of the fireplaces bathed you both in a soft, calming light, casting a peaceful aura over the room. Above the mantel, the snowglobe, Konig crafted, an intricate, perfect representation of the two of you, sat proudly. Its glass shimmered gently in the flickering flames, showing the love and care he put into creating it.

[velvetvexations]

hello velvet this is going to be a lot abt hate crimes in abstraction (by which i mean, not about an Actual Hate Crime That Happened) but i wanted to warn u in case that was too much for comfort <3

my partner is stealth transmasc, and when you say this i think a lot of people interpret it as "Passes All The Time, Every Time". of course that's not what "stealth" means (it means low/no disclosure... it's flexible bc it's slang, but "stealth" tends to imply intention, it's something you do on purpose for safety reasons). the misconception is irritating most of the time, but i also think its actively dangerous and contributes directly to the erasure of transmasculine oppression. like, i keep seeing people refuting the statement "being stealth is a hostage situation" with "well im stealth and im not scared of being outed" as if it has anything to do with personal sense of fear. youd think that would be obvious.

we live in a blue dot in deeply red state. the difference between our city and where my partner grew up, in the surrounding area, is stark. contrary to popular belief, this doesnt make us safe. he gets threatened with violence walking home alone, he gets called slurs by people that think theyve clocked him as any number of things. you walk fast and dont look behind you when stuff like that happens. none of my friends have been able to answer me when i ask "did they follow you home? do they know where you live?" transfem friends too! it's almost like we're more alike in experiencing transphobia than we are different. who'd've thought.

im thinking abt this bc we travel via greyhound and the last station we left was very very poorly maintained - arent they all? - and in the mens restroom, every door to every stall had a broken lock. my partner joked abt taking a "risky pee" lol, and if it wasnt for where we were, who we are, and the time we are living in, maybe the little icepick of fear wouldnt have gotten stuck in me and i wouldve laughed.

the thing that irritates me abt this discourse is that this type of white knight, tme-in-bio transmasc (or associate) does not at all seem to recognize the danger inherent to being stealth, to looking sort of like a man if the ppl around you are not violent transphobes looking for a fight. they are so consumed by this idea of trans-male privilege that they dont even recognize the danger they are in. often times i think its bc of their own individual privilege. maybe they live in a more trans-friendly region than i do. maybe theyve never met a transphobe, never been called slurs from a speeding car that almost hit you, maybe theyve never been loudly transvestigated in public. i really, sincerely hope they never do. but they take that and apply it to other transmascs far less fortunate and dont even recognize the erasure they are contributing to. bc everyone knows only transfems get hate crimed! who else ever would?

they think that no one has ever clocked them (how? are you a mindreader?), they think that if they look enough like a cis man, "other" cis men wont hurt them, cis women wont be Able to hurt them. they think thats true of every transmasc thats been a year+ on t. it's juvenile. it's icarian. it's misogyny dressed up as solidarity and chivalry. and it's not even fucking true. the vast majority of Any trans person who is trans in Any number of ways is going to face fear and anxiety and the potential for danger in a bathroom.

thank you for sharing anon <3

[nose-rice]

OH MY GOD YES. YES YES YES. I mentioned this in my og post but with the whole Nuru being raised differently, I mainly focused on her being a girl and royalty. But being a black girl also plays a huge roll with the whole "you're either the mom friend, or sassy". I've seen her portrayed as straight up mean before which is personally infuriating to me.

And with Yong!! Like you said he's a pre-teen! While I certainly wasn't matured, I wasn't thinking surface level thoughts. You start to overthink, find yourself, and your rose-tinted glasses start to fade just the tiniest bit. He's more than just "wow.. ypu guys seem really sad," or "wow! I'm so happy my fireworks worked!" And him being the fat asian kid leads is also troubling like you said. He's never taken seriously beyond the surface level "I don't wanna bother you guys" It's just really sad to me because I see so much of myself in Nuru, and I absolutely ADORE Yong and his absolutely vibrant personality. I feel like he holds immense power when it comes to shifting the tone of the story since he's the main source of optimism in the group, which could also set up a character arc that deeper than one short little moment of introspection.

Also this is a more personal thing but as a mixed poc, I am STARVING for literally any fun cool story I love with MAIN poc characters with complex thoughts and arcs. And I mean the MAIN. STARS. I'm a little tired of seeing the white lead with their poc friends that serve them in every way, and if we're LUCKY, perhaps a poc love intrest, which we didn't get here lol. Ofc I still love them. I just have been craving more diverse characters that can be seen in a complex light, which is what started my whole Nuru rant (i love Nuru soso much)

And i do agree that part of it is the way the story was set up fundamentally, with there being almost no info on Nuru and Yong, and being centered more on the main white couple. But I think it's great that it was just a first draft, and Anna and Kay have said they enjoy seeing different interpretations and chages. It's just unfortunate that most people tend to grasp onto what we're given a little too much, and not exploring so many possible concepts. The whole point I feel was that it was an idea thrown out there to whoever wants to add on to it or simply just enjoy what's already there, but the fandom pretty heavily tilts toward the "enjoy what's given" side.

Not to mention DONELLA AND ULLA?? EVEN CYRUS!! I personally am biased towards Donella but I feel a lot of the things with her can be said for Ulla too. I feel that a lot of the time they serve as plot devices for Varian and Hugo respectively. Obviously they're all very important to eachother, but I wanna see more of THEM. Just Ulla. Just Donella!! There are some good fanworks and art out there that do dive deeper into them, at least a big chunk more than Nuru and Yong which is a little sad. But I feel like I never see any fanworks that focus on their backstory aside from the library and "sons". What about THEIR parents, where they grew up? Their little quirks and their cultures? I especially find the way some Donella redemptions feel half hazardly taped on for the plot infuriating because to get to her state, you have to be pretty set in you beliefs!!

And to be fair Cyrus is very much less involved as he is Don's "side kick" sort of? Bodyguard? It's up to interpretation. But I really like seeing people giving him a bigger role in stories. Like. PLEASE. This is more just me asking for things I personally wanna see but I sorta wanna see a found family dynamic between Cyrus, Hugo, and Donella. The "villain trio". I think it would be super fun! Love seeing people rant about this stuff because I never see it talked about!!

Guys I NEED to rant about my thoughts on Nuru because i love her <3 ramblings ahead

Like I feel like in almost every fic i read, she's just like, a side character that's there to make whitty remarks to Hugo and be the levelheaded one. If she has an insecurity or problem it's usually pretty surface level and solved quickly, or only mentioned once or twice. I think there are SO many aspects of her character that are so cool.

Okay first, I think we sometimes forget that she's a nerd just like the rest of the gang. Yes, on the outside she's definetly the most 'normal' one, but I think we should concider the fact that she's the only girl in the group, and she's literal royalty. She was raised with a completely different set of standards than the other three. I don’t think I've really ever seen anyone cover that. I feel like she would get called "mature for her age" when she's only 15/16, and almost always gets critisism when she talks back with her own ideas (like her concerns about the meteor shows for example). I feel like out on her journey, she would finally get the freedom to just be herself, and be a kid and be able to rant on about her intrests with the rest of the group. It could be a struggle at first, but it would be awesome to see her getting more comfortable with the group the longer they spend together! Nerds encouraging nerdy rants lol

Since she is a kingdom figurehead, you could also argue that she always has a lot on her hands (especially since she's very proactive when it comes to science and solving problems). This could bring up a need to be productive, or always feeling like she needs to make the right decision, even for the littlest things.

I also feel like a lot of the time she's potrayed as the "right" one, who is 100% right when it comes to stuff like arguing with Hugo. Since they're opposites when it comes to class, they often are compared through that lense. I think it's cool just having Nuru tell Hugo off for judging a book by its cover, but I feel like they have a lot more in common than they realize. I think it would be interesting to see Nuru judging a book by its cover too. Maybe not to the degree that Hugo does, but I feel like calling out both their judging would not only call out character flaws, but it also enforces that even though they hate eachother and would never want to be like the other, they have a lot of the same flaws.

Also, being sheltered in a palace her whole life, I think she might think kind of black and white sometimes, and while she knows when people are just being mean as an act, she might struggle when it comes to people like reformed criminals.

Maybe she's able to be meaner to Hugo because she justifies it by telling herself he's criminal, and therefore bad, possibly glossing over the reasons he might be like that (maybe it crosses her mind, but she tells herself it's not a good enough reason, because stealing is still stealing, and he literally steals EVERYTHING. Even little trinkets and stuff he definitely doesn't need!). When they find out about Varian's criminal history, maybe she reexamines her views on morality and how she used to see people, because by her standards, Varian is a 'bad guy' who's caused harm to SO many people, but he's also the kind, caring, helpful friend that she's been traveling with who would never willingly hurt anyone.

Moving on to Amber x Nuru, I honestly never find myself liking the ship because Amber isn't developed enough which is fine. I don't think every character has to be a magnificent work of art. Side characters are side characters, but their romance is usually written like: "wow that girl is cute! I have a crush now!" Which is cool, but then that's about as far as it gets, then timeskip! Or offscreen they're a couple now. I know it's a side couple so it won't have as much devlopment as something like Varigo, but I never really see their dynamic play out in different situations. Like I don't know how to explain it, but it feels like they solely exist to be a couple? Amber sometimes just feels like an extention of Nuru, and their relationship feels surface level a lot of the time.

I feel like too often she's just watered down to the nice, smart, grounded friend, and I don't know I just think there’s so much more to explore with her. She’s not just some side character. She's literally part of the main cast! Even in fanart I feel like she doesn't really get a lot of stuff besides funny art and just like, pictures meant to look pretty. Unlike something you get a lot with characters like Varian or Hugo.

And honestly I get it. Some characters you just don't take an intrest in. I know I find Varian, Hugo, and Nuru more relatable than I find Yong, but I feel like part of that is developing their characters rather than just seeing them on a surface level. Ofc there are exceptions and there are some stories that dive deeper into Nuru's character out there! I just happen to see this A LOT.

Wow i said "surface level" a lot didn't I 😭😭

Anyway thank you for reading my rant i wanna know what you guys think!!

[winchesterwild78]

Broken pt 2

Master List

Characters: Jensen x Reader (wife)

Warnings: fluff, angst, infertility, Endometriosis, death

A/N:  Idea given to me by @cheekygirl2309. This one is a little different than what I usually write. It has angst, lots of angst to start, and infertility issues. It's going to be a short series.

Minors DNI 18+

The next morning I woke up with a text and email from Jensen with flight information. I quickly packed and headed to the airport. My flight was scheduled to leave in a few hours, but I had to get through security and check in. 

I sent Jensen a text to let him know I was at the airport.

Me: I’m at the airport, waiting to board the plane. I can’t wait to see you. I love you baby.

Jensen: I can’t wait either. Y/N, I really am sorry for leaving you alone. I promise I’ll never do it again. 

Me: I know baby. We both had fault in this, it’s not all on you. We will make it right. I love you, I’m about to board. I’ll see you at the airport.

Jensen: I love you too, baby. I’ll be there with bells on.

I smiled as I looked at my phone. The emotional rollercoaster of the last 24 hours has been a true test of mine and Jensen’s relationship. One we almost failed. 

I sat on the plane and listened to music as we flew towards our destination. As the minutes ticked on I grew more anxious. This was the first time since our fight we would see each other. 

The plane landed and I started walking towards the exit. I scanned the airport and the people standing around waiting for their loved ones, and I saw him. Jensen, my Jensen  standing with a smile on his face and emerald eyes that glittered like morning dew. 

My heart fluttered. In that moment, seeing him standing there waiting for me with so much love in his eyes reminded me why I fell in love with him. He was and always will be my home, the love of my life. 

I smiled and ran through the crowd to his open arms. Our bodies collided as he scooped me up and held me tight. Our lips smashed onto each other and the kiss deep and needy, like it was the only thing giving us life at the moment. 

Every person, every noise in the airport melted away. His arms wrapped securely around me and his lips breathing life into me, into our love. 

All the pain and sorrow from the last few hours seemed to melt away. Sure, it was still there, but in that moment what really mattered was willingness to fight for us, for our marriage. 

Leaving the airport hand in hand Jensen couldn’t take his eyes off of me, or me off of him. We had work to do, but at least we were together to work on it. 

The next few days we settled into a routine. I would get up with Jensen, we would make breakfast together, he’d head to set and I’d either go with him or stay home, and when he got home we worked on us, on our marriage. The first night we made love after our fight we both cried. All the emotions, the pain, the hurt melted away and we fell in love all over again. 

A renewed commitment to each other. We talked about having a baby, and we both agreed to let things happen naturally. Jensen also suggested while I was there we both visit a doctor to see if there’s any reason I couldn’t get pregnant. 

I saw him trying, trying to fix what he, what we broke, and trying to make our dream of a family come true. 

I went with Jensen to set today. Everyone was happy to see me. They said Jensen isn’t himself when I’m not around. I looked over at him and he smiled but blushed too. 

“Alright guys, stop laying it on so thick. She doesn’t need to know what a sap she married.” 

I giggled and touched his arm, “Oh Jensen, I already knew.” I smiled and kissed him. 

Karl walked over and pulled me into a bear hug. “Glad to see ya, love. Hope you didn’t let him off the hook that easily.” I smirked, “You know I can’t resist his green eyes.” 

“I know love. Glad you two are working it out. You two are good for each other and that man is head over heels in love with you.” 

I smiled softly and looked over at Jensen bantering with the other cast members. I knew Karl was right. I’ve just been so wrapped up in not giving Jensen a child I lost sight of what we had. A home filled with love and joy and I have a husband who would move mountains to see me happy. 

I smiled at Karl, “Thanks Karl. For everything.” He nodded, “I’ve got you love.” 

I sat in a chair off to the side and watched Jensen in the scene. He was amazing in anything he did, but the way he played Soldier Boy was something profound. It’s like the character was made for him. 

By the time the director called for a wrap for the day it was well past 1am and I was exhausted. 

Everyone was talking about heading out to blow off some steam but Jensen was hesitant. 

I touched his arm, “Jens, if I wasn’t here what would you do?” He looked at me and I could tell he was nervous. 

“Babe, remember we need to talk about things. If you want to go then go. I’ll head back to the apartment and go to sleep. Please don’t stop living your life because I’m here. Baby, go. Go have fun. You deserve it.” 

Jensen smiled and placed a soft kiss on my lips, “Are you sure you don’t want to come too. You know they’d love to have you.” I touched his chest, “Maybe next time.” I kissed him again. 

We walked to his trailer so he could change and I grabbed my stuff. Jensen was riding with Karl and Antony, so Clif was driving me home. 

I arrived at the apartment, showered, changed and crawled into bed. Sleep taking hold almost instantly. 

Jensen came stumbling in about 4am. He was wasted. Karl was slightly drunk. They were trying to be quiet but they were so loud they woke me up. 

“Hey Karl, I’m gonna have a baby with her.” I heard Jensen slur out as I walked down the hallway. 

“That’s great mate. She’s gonna make some beautiful babies for you.” 

“Yeah. I’m lucky. I thought we were gonna break up, man. I can’t get her pregnant and we got into a huge fight.” 

I stepped into the living room just as Jensen was about to spill more about our recent fight. 

“Alright boys, time for bed. Karl, you take the guest room, and you Mr Ackles go get in my bed.” 

Jensen smirked, “Yes ma’am. Night Karl. I’m going to sleep with my wife. Maybe put a baby in her.” 

I shot him a look as Karl erupted in laughter. “Good luck, mate.” 

“Jensen, bed, now, and you too Karl. It’s too early in the morning to deal with this crap.” 

Jensen stumbled to our room and passed out on the bed halfway through taking off his shoes. I chuckled when I saw him. 

I removed his shoes, and jeans. Helped him get under the blankets and went to grab him some water and medicine to put by his bed. 

As I passed the guest room Karl was sitting on the side of the bed. “Hey love. Sorry he’s so drunk. He got really upset at the bar. Said he was a failure because he couldn’t give you the one thing you wanted, a baby. Just thought you should know he’s torturing himself over this.” “I had no idea. I’m going to make it right. Thank you for letting me know.” “Of course. He loves you deeper than I’ve ever seen him love anyone. You’re it for him and he’d move mountains to make you happy.” “I know, Karl. I am incredibly lucky to have him and I’m so proud to be his wife. Night Karl.” “Night Y/N.” 

I went back to our room and Jensen was asleep. Soft snores leaving his slightly parted lips. 

Crawling into bed I snuggled close to him. He woke slightly and pulled me close. “I love you Y/N. I can’t wait to give you a baby. You deserve everything.” 

“Shhh baby. Just sleep. We can talk about that later. I love you Jensen.” 

I placed a soft kiss on his cheek and heard soft snores again. I chuckled softly and drifted back to sleep. 

The next few weeks Jensen and I worked on our relationship. We both went to the doctor and he was given a clean bill of health. The doctor said I had endometriosis which caused scar tissue and would make it difficult, but not impossible to get pregnant. She said it would just take more time. 

Leaving the doctor I felt so defeated. I stared out the window as a tear slipped out. Jensen looked over and saw my body language. He took my hand, “Hey. It’s okay. She didn’t say we couldn’t get pregnant, she said it would just take more time.” 

“I know, Jensen. I just never thought it would be so difficult to have a baby. I’m so sorry, Jensen.” Tears fell fast and heavy. Jensen pulled the car over. He took my hand in his, and cupped my face with the other, “Shhh, baby don’t cry, please. We will figure this out. I promise baby. I’ll move mountains to make you happy.” “I know Jens.”

We drove the rest of the way home in silence. The doctor’s words replayed in my head. Once home I crawled in bed and just cried. Jensen came into the room and laid down beside me, pulling me close to him and holding me. 

No words were spoken between us for the rest of the night, Jensen just held me. I felt so broken.

The next few days I tried to do research on endometriosis and pregnancy. Depending on the amount of scar tissue can affect the ability to get pregnant. There are numerous treatment options that include surgery and IVF. 

Jensen was on set so I sent him a text.

Me: Hey baby just wanted to check in and tell you I’ve been doing some research. We have options and I can’t wait to talk to you about it. I’m sorry I’ve taken this so hard. I just wasn’t expecting to be told my body couldn’t do the one thing it was designed to do. I love you.

Jensen: Hey baby. Can’t chat long, back on set in a few. I understand why you’re upset. We will figure this out together. Whatever you need we will tackle it together. I love you sweetheart.

Me: I love you too Jens. I’ll talk to you tonight. I’m baking you a pie. 

Jensen: I can’t wait. 

A few hours later I had baked the pie, it was cooling on the stove and I had started cooking dinner. Jensen was due home in about an hour and I wanted dinner ready for him. He’d been putting in long hours on set, and helping me deal with the aftermath of the doctor appointment. He was definitely my rock. 

I had just turned on the stove when the phone rang. Looking at the caller ID I saw my sister’s name. 

“Hey sis. How are you?” I asked as I answered the phone. At first the line was silent. Then I heard her sob. “Hey, Abby, what’s wrong?” 

“Y/N, it’s…dad…he’s gone.” The world around me went dark, every sound sounded like I was underwater. “What?” I stuttered out.

Abby took a shaky breath, “Dad, he died. He got into a car accident and died on impact.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My dad, the first man I ever loved. The man who taught me how to dance, change a tire, how a husband and father should treat his family was gone. 

I couldn’t breathe. My legs gave out and I collapsed to the floor. My body was shaking with the primal sobs that left my mouth. The sounds leaving my body were full of pain and anguish. 

My body wouldn’t move from the floor. My phone was long forgotten, I didn’t know if Abby was still on the phone or not. 

The only thing I could make out between the tears that left my shattered body was Jensen coming through the front door. 

He took one look at me on the floor and bolted to my side. Grabbing me and pulling me into his arms, “Y/N, baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” I sobbed harder. 

I couldn’t talk. He held me tighter. Jensen knew something terrible had happened. The only thing I could muster out was “daddy”. Jensen knew instantly something happened to my father. 

Taking out his phone he called my mother. There was no answer, so he called Abby. “Abby, this is Jensen. I just got home and found Y/N on the floor, saying “daddy”, what happened, is your dad okay?” 

Abby told him what happened and Jensen’s heart broke. He knew how close my father and I were. When we started dating my dad sat Jensen down and had a long talk with him. Before Jensen asked me to marry him, he got my dad’s permission, and daddy gave it to him after another long talk about what it meant to be a husband. 

“Baby, I’ve got you. I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry baby.” He helped me up, and carried me to our bed. Laying me down he pulled a blanket over me and curled beside me. “Shhh baby. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.” 

I snuggled closer to him, my tears soaking his shirt, but being in his arms I felt safe. This loss hurt deeper than anything I’d ever experienced. Part of my soul was gone. One of the people responsible for my existence was now gone.

I was glad I had Jensen because I had no idea how to live my life, how to go on without my dad. Jensen softly kissed the top of my head as my crying started to subside. 

“I love you, Y/N. I’m so sorry baby.” He pulled me closer. I looked up at him, my eyes puffy and swollen from crying, “I love you too, Jensen.”

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[drawnfamiliarfaces]

just wondering, do you know about the cross-collar rule in asian attire? (if not nbd, just thought you might have some interesting thoughts on it in regards to the first ninja)

YES!!! I do actually!!! ;DD Tho admittedly I only discovered it a few years ago and while I 100% incorporated it into my First Ninja headcanons, I didn't have a chance to share it, I guess, haha. ;D

For those curious about the cross-collar rule: Japanese kimono is traditionally worn left side wrapped over right, unless the wearer is deceased.

Tho in RC9GN character sheets designs - ALL kimono wearing characters with the right side wrapped over left.

While I have no idea if this was an animation error due to negligence of research, or a deliberate choice with or without that clothing rule in mind (considering they travel to past and technically all people they saw are dead in the future lol), but you sure as hell can believe me that my mind run absolutely feral with that tidbit.

In some of my posts I mentioned my hcs about how First Ninja is incredibly loyal to his Clan and the siblings he lost, about how much survival guilt he must have suffered, and how much effort and energy he puts into making sure that the Ninja - the culmination of all their efforts - must survive and live on, all in order to keep the Sorcerer contained and their newfound home (and the world) safe and secure. To the point that he would immerse himself completely into his role of the protector and erase any other identity that he had left - an incredibly utterly noble and stupidly horrifying gesture of self-sacrifice for the continuous survival of his clan even at the price of his civilian life.

I trust you can see where the cross-collar rule comes into play with this. ;)

Because in First Ninja's mind - he is a dead man walking. Whatever was left of his semi-normal life with his siblings had been slipping away from him with every loss, until there was nothing left but the duty his clan had taken on. Whatever he was before that, whatever he could have been - has been dead for a long time. And contrary to harsh wording I use, I do not really see First regard it as a great loss - it is still a loss, but here comes a rule of 'the sacrifice of one for the good of many' (something this Clan will surely understand) - if anything it would seem like a logical progression for all the events of his life.

There is a reason I built my headcanons around First Ninja as the youngest of the Clan: if your whole life revolved around an important duty, it would not seem like the great sacrifice for you to devote your entire life to it to that kind of point considering all the circumstances. I mean from an outside perspective it is pretty horrible, but when you literally grew up in the situation? Its a different matter.

But the rule also can be interpreted in a more (?) uplifting manner because, if you took notice - his Ninja suit is also wrapped right over left, and in this case I chose to interpret it as not sign of death but rather continuity, an immortality of sorts if you will - because even if what was left of that young Norisu lord is dead - the Ninja will live on through inheritance, and no matter how much time will pass, how many inheritors will come and go - Ninja itself will survive. And isnt that an immortality in itself?

Admittedly while I have a great deal of thoughts about this, I'm not good at sharing my headcanons (even now I reread what I wrote and wonder if its even coherent haha...), and so far I only managed to allude to the cross-collar rule in one of my MIS posts:

Where First Ninja is still a mortal but who wears his clothes like a dead man, and Chase Young is an immortal who would not even think of dying, lol.

But trust me, while Im struggling to express all of that - every time I draw First, that rule and all the angsty implications of it are constantly on my mind. ;)

[luvzxr]

Little Pougie

Hi! I'm back from a long break. I've been working on this book that originally is posted on wattpad and it's ongoing currently. I wanted to branch out from my previous posts from video games to shows as well.

This story also is originally using my OC's name and I'm not very good with coming up with alternatives to make the story for people who want to use their OC's or their own names. I will do my best though because I also don't like using the (Y/N) stuff but we shall see. anyways, onto chapter one.

01. Kegger

I wish I had stayed at home, curled up on the couch with my hair up in a messy bun and some stupid microwaveable meal on the coffee table in front of me. I wish I never let my older brother, John B, rip me away from the comfort of our own home to come to a kegger, or in other words- a party that I most certainly did not want to attend.

"John B," I tugged the hem of his loosely worn shirt. I've been so uneasy the entire night I've completely forgotten what it means to be content, "when are we leaving?"

"Just a little longer, Poguie. I promise," He gave a soft but playful nudge with his elbow.

'Just a little longer' means we'll be here till daybreak or until I pester him enough to drive me home himself. Time meant nothing to him when a Pouge party was happening.

I was more than eager to go back home and I grew more and more impatient the longer I stood there in hopes John B would change his mind and offer me a ride home of his own free will but that would only happen if hell froze over.

Pouges had no reason to throw parties, they just would and at this point being the sister of one and considered one myself by our peers and friends you would think I'd have no problem with participating but the word parties always left a bitter taste on the tip of my tongue. In what way does a night filled with hammered teenagers and raging migraines the next morning sound appealing?

The time we spent there grew longer and once it hit ten o'clock I couldn't take it anymore and made the utter decision to leave my older brother's side and push past the sweaty bodies and blotched faces.

I was sure that John B would grow increasingly tense once he'd start to realize my absence and after having practically the whole town on a wild goose chase- only to find me safely at home and also find time to lecture me about how I need to stay with him at all times. Yet I couldn't find even just an ounce in me to care about the repercussions of leaving on my own.

Luckily, none of John B's friends were around to stop me from reaching the main road, as everyone I left behind were either trying to find any way possible of getting a free hook up or a free buzz.

All I could keep my mind set on was crashing on the couch and tuning out to either The Vampire Diaries or jamming out to a random playlist of mine on the stereo. To some that might be one of the most boring activities you could be doing on a Friday night but to me it sounded like absolute bliss.

I wanted to die, After what felt like hours of heaving and gasping for air, I had finally reached the house where I could kick off my Chuck Taylor's and crash on the couch with my original plan. But first, I needed a snack because my stomach was probably on the verge of kicking my own butt if I didn't prioritize the next five seconds of finding something to satisfy the hunger.

I make my way to our kitchen, flicking on the light, and began scanning through the different varieties of food held within the cabinets and fridge. I quickly settled with a chocolate pudding cup stashed in the very back of our cabinet that seemed my brother tried to hide so desperately.

"Little Pouge?"

"Jesus!" I shrieked, practically throwing my enclosed pudding cup as a poor excuse for self-defense. If there was an actual intruder he'd probably have already made off with what we had left that was considered valuable.

I relax my nerves upon seeing a much more familiar blonde boy standing in the doorway and not an intruder ready to high-tail out of here with whatever he could.

"Sorry." a sheepish grin creeping on his face, "didn't mean to startle you, Little one."

JJ Maybank is my big brother's best friend since the third grade and he's also one of the very few people I didn't mind stopping by whenever he felt like it and lounge around the house as if he lived here himself. He's been in my life for as long as I could even remember because John B was never without him and ever since our father went missing it was always me, John B, and JJ so that surely helped our bond develop over time.

'Little Pouge' however was a nickname given to me by my brother and his friends. It was something the Pouges wanted to have special for me considering to them that 'y/n/n' was too bland to call me. I don't know a single one of them who doesn't call me Little Pouge or Pougie. That nickname has been with me for so long that even Kooks seem to be catching onto the idea of being referred to as those rather than my birth name.

Many Kooks have tried calling me the nickname's just to get under John B's skin or even JJ's but a lot of the time that ended in the boys beating a Kook to a pulp and the rest of their night spent in a six by eight foot holding cell and the horrible back pains that came with it in the morning when I'd bail them out.

I feel my face grow hot from embarrassment, "What are you doing here JJ?"

"John B couldn't find you so he sent me out looking for ya," he says, giving a curt nod towards the direction behind him, indicating my brother sent him out to hunt me down.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. John B acts as if I can't spend even just a little bit of time by myself anywhere and that I constantly need someone to watch over me like a little kid- I'm not a little kid, I'm a year younger than him, and perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

I let out a groan, "I'm not a little kid, JJ. When is he going to understand that."

He made his way over to me, leaning forward so that he could rest his elbow on the countertop and his chin in the palm of his hand.

"He's just worried about you (y/n). You're the only family he's got left other than our little group as far as he knows." JJ states. "Plus, with all the Kooks at the party too he was worried that maybe one of 'em kidnapped ya."

"Hm."

"Ah Princess, don't be like that. He's looking out for you." He ruffles my hair.

He gave a soft grin before making his way over to the couch, swinging himself over the top and landing perfectly in a comfortable seated position.

Why does he never just walk around the side like a normal person?

Not long after JJ made himself comfortable on the couch is when I decided to do the same thing.

I take a good look at him, at his side profile, the way he clenches his jaw ever so slightly out of pure justification. His father had beat on him so many times he'd probably never have the same jaw alignment as he once had and a part of me wished that I was closer to him than just his best bud's little sister because he didn't open up to anyone, he doesn't allow anyone to get too close to him and in a way I understand.

Being as close to JJ as I was now I could smell the severe alcohol on his breath. It was no secret that Pouges drank, it was more common than you'd actually think but I could only imagine how his liver must have felt and practically beg him to take a break. On top of that, I also knew JJ was into a lot of different kinds of substances. He used those as an escape route, a way to completely make the pain go away for a temporary amount of time before he had to rejoin the rest of us in reality.

He tended to do his best to stay away from pain, choosing to ignore anything and everything that even remotely had the chance to trigger the emotion. He tried to bottle all of it up and throw it out the window as if it had never existed in the first place but like every human being, there comes a time when that glass bottle fills to the brim and then it explodes.

"JJ."

"Hm?" He raised an eyebrow, turning his head towards me to give his full attention.

I paused. He wasn't going to like the question I had in store for him so was I really ready to potentially ruin the small, yet sweet relationship I had with him? Over being a little too nosey for my own good.

I decided against it and just shook my head, "How was the party?"

He tilted his head to the side, his tongue slid between both sets of his teeth and his mouth making the ever so slightest oval like he usually does- He was confused, and rightfully so. This man has been around since before my childbirth and every step after that, it was hard to keep anything from him. That is if he's sober.

Fortunately enough for me, he was not and wasn't the sharpest when it came to being intoxicated. JayJ and his love for alcohol for once actually saved us a conversation that I don't think either of us were fully ready to have. Nonetheless, the question still raked through my mind and I was only hoping that the curiosity wouldn't power through.

Why does he resort to things that destroy him? Does he seriously think that low of himself?

[ryuzakemo128]

MDNI 18+ Omegaverse Part 3

cw: isolation, cold weather, injuries, lovely things, overprotective price. mature language. angst.

Omegaverse Parts: Part One + Part Two + Part Three

wc: 1311

Price noticed you were no longer on the base, all that working trying to find you all gone to waste because of General Shepard. His frustration grew each day you were gone. Each day you weren’t around the four. Did it matter that it was only a week? Fuck no.

What did the General hope would happen? Delay the inevitable? What kind of foolish man did they take Price for? When he found out you were sent down from a helicopter in the dead of night to Siberia? His blood began to boil. His temper began to rise higher levels.

The man was a monster, and you were his latest victim. The medical results came in. Not that you would ever get the chance to see them. To know what you are. Why people were so keen on taking you or killing you, or both. Not just a weapon, either.

“You can’t do that. You have no right to enforce that. It’s against protocol to send out an unknown operative.” Price argued. He tried making him see the error of his actions. He had to. Not many others were willing to stand up for you. He had to save you.

“Protocol can go to hell, Price. She’s special. The intel says so. We need her. And I will do whatever it takes to ensure she’s safe and on our side. Even if it means throwing her to the wolves and seeing if she comes back to us. That’s an order, Captain!” Shepard’s voice was cold, final. The conversation was over.

The medical evaluation you received years before your imposed, forced exile had always eluded you. Your results never even reached your own hands. They left you there in the middle of the forest with your Barrett M82, SIG Sauer P226, colt python, and a Bowie knife made from Damascus steel. 

Siberia wasn’t meant to be kind nor loving to you. It was supposed to have killed you long ago. They assumed you would be dead by now. Hoped to be rid of you by now. A detriment to what they wanted. Too much of an improbable, uncontrollable unknown. A freak.

The log cabin you made into your home was relatively small, easy to miss, and hard to find within the gusts often sweeping across the snowy landscape. The trees keeping the location of the log cabin a hushed secret. A stone fireplace and varying large cast iron pots and pans. 

Stolen from military vehicles you spotted along the road to a base in the area. Indirectly helping task force 141 from afar. Nikolai said, “Looks like some of their supplies were taken, no signs of a struggle, no signs of combat, and whoever it is. Knew exactly what to take.”

Captain Price remarked incredulously as he frowned deeply, “What do you mean by taken? Nikolai, they’re either stolen or they’re lost. It can’t be any more or any less simple than that. I don’t think ghosts exist to steal supplies from the back of enemy trucks. We would know otherwise.”

“Oh, but Captain, the world is a mysterious place, full of secrets and unexplained occurrences. Maybe, just maybe, there is something, or someone, out there we haven’t accounted for.” Nikolai cooed a little too cryptically for his own good. Possibly even too mysteriously for Soap’s liking. Like he knew more.

The snap of the bear trap's claws clamping onto your leg set out by Nikolai, “See? The little mouse came out to play.” He set out a nice steak within enough reach to tempt you. Purposefully trying to make you do something stupid enough to try stealing it from him.

Price managed to take a closer look at you, Nikolai’s mouse, who bit Price for trying to touch you without consent. Feeling your wolf like teeth into his hand. Digging into his flesh, not hard enough to break bones. But hard enough to leave behind a deep enough bruise.

Your jaw locked in, making it impossible for him to remove his hand. With every movement of his met with a low growl ripping through your throat. Refusing to let go. Price didn’t know what to think. But Nikolai seemed to have his thumbs up, soap and are distressed. Where’s Ghost?

Who knew ghost would be the one to find your log cabin first? There he was. Standing outside your log cabin, staring at the crate you were parachuted down from the military helicopter. Smelling your intense sweet smell of your previous heat. The scent still remaining on the fur blankets.

The place you still go into when your heat comes around again. Tally marks along the walls marking how many times your ‘heat’ came around. The thick, soft fur blankets soaking in the hot water in the giant metal tub in the shed. Which also served as your bath tub. 

Learning your scent could attract far more dangerous predators than you. You bathed once a day when you weren’t in heat. Twice a day during the period of your heat. Once in the morning, and once in the evening. As you found it to be rather productive for your benefit.

Price sniffed around the crate you used to live in before shifting to your cabin permanently. The scent of yours is stronger than any of theirs. Their combined scent could match it. But singularly? No. They’d be drowned inside your scent with enough ease. Like a Megalodon swallowing someone whole.

“I can’t believe we missed this. This is a fucking goldmine.” He whispered to himself. “Nikolai! Soap! We’re not the only ones who know she’s here. She’s been living here, right under our nose!” He waved his comrades over, getting their attention and to come closer to what he found. 

Their footsteps grew louder as they approached. Soap’s eyes widened as he saw the state of your living conditions. The way you’ve adapted. The way you’ve survived. It’s a miracle, really. “How long have you been out here?” He asked, his voice filled with a mix of amazement and horror.

You were patching your leg up and bathing in hot water, hoping to sterilise and clean the wound. It was the sight of your naked body that made them rather peculiar. You were a miracle wrapped inside the cold, tendency to bite people’s hands if they touched you without consent.

Your clothes discarded into the corner of your cabin. Soaking in cold water to get the blood from your clothes. The atmosphere of your log cabin, warmer than what you felt on the inside. After the stitches, your leg is wrapped in clean cloth. You were about to get dressed.

The door slammed open like the gusts of wind came through like a shout rather than a soft, sultry whisper. The four of them must have found you quicker than you suspected. Another 12 months living, surviving, on your own. 

The first to enter your cabin was someone you didn’t expect to see again. Considering the two of you yelled at each other like you wanted to rip each other’s throat out. “What the fuck do you want?” You spat, your teeth still clenched from the pain of your wound.

“To bring you back. You’re in no state to be alone, you’re in no state to be left to pick up leftovers to live off again. I don’t want to hear your protests because frankly, I don’t care. You’re coming with us.” Price's voice was firm, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes as he stepped into the cabin, the warmth of the fireplace hitting him like a welcoming embrace.

You stared at him. Shocked. In total state of shock. Price heard the meek, “I can go back now?” Soap helped you get dressed and patched up. Ghost packed up your things, because he knew it was valuable

[skellseerwriting]

It is Tradition After All

March x Gn!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Content & Warnings: Lighthearted, flustered March, Olric once again being an unintentional third wheel, no mention of Christmas (though it’s sorta implied. I wanted to leave “holidays” neutral but there aren’t any other December ones I’m familiar with + Mistria isn’t in our world)

Summary: Olric and March invite you to participate in their family tradition, but you and March soon find that there’s another tradition that could take place…

Worming your way throughout the rambunctious inn with a mug of hot chocolate in hand, you made your rounds of greeting everyone and wishing them happy holidays. Almost everybody was standing, so seeking out certain faces wasn’t easy in the small sea of people. One person that you didn’t take just two seconds to greet, however, was March.

He was leaning against the wall with a certain mysterious air as he swirled his drink around in one hand. The spotlight was a place he loved, but when he wasn’t in it, he much rather preferred to be away from large groups.

“Happy holidays.” You smiled at him, holding your mug with both hands.

With his natural blush turning darker, March shifted his eyes away as he mirrored the sentiment; taking a sip of his cocoa. You tried not to giggle at the little mustache the drink gave him.

“Are there any family traditions you and Olric will be doing?” You attempted to make small talk. March wasn’t the easiest person’s tongue to loose; except when he was drunk of course.

During the past couple weeks in Mistria, you’d learned that many of the people here had their own traditions they participated in. It was quite different from where you grew up.

“Yeah, we hang our metal ornaments on our tree. Every year, both of us make a new one, so tonight we’re hanging those up.”

Warmth bubbled up in your stomach at the heartwarming activity.

“That sounds really nice, March.” You said softly. “That’s not only a really neat tradition, but it seems very special.”

Flushing darker, March tried to ignore your gaze by sticking his nose in his cup.

“It’s nothing much.” He mumbled. His vocal deterrent did nothing though, as it only spurred you further to express your heartfelt joy.

“I really mean it.” You told him, standing a little closer. “It’s so lovely that you add new ones every year. You get to see the progress you’ve made and visually see that another year has passed. I wish I had something that special with someone.”

Taking his burning face out of his drink, March switched to angling his face up; looking down his nose at you. It wasn’t a stubborn look, though. He was red in the face and slightly nervous-looking as always.

“You can join us if you like.” He told you, and your heart soared at the invitation. After realizing how kind he sounded, March stuttered while adding: “N-not because I really want you there. The more the merrier, that’s all.”

Nodding with glee, you told him “of course” (even though you would bet your bull’s golden horns that he was lying). After finishing your drinks, a very cheerful Olric approached and clapped a hand on your shoulder.

“Heard March invited you to help decorate our tree; that’s great!” He exclaimed, giving his brother a big grin.

“Only because I knew you were going to do it anyways.” He said flatly, acting like he was suddenly indifferent again.

“Whatever you say bro!”

After staying at the party for a bit longer, you left the inn; following March and Olric.

Entering their shop, you discovered a large, dark green pine tree had already been placed in the front right corner. It was all bare, waiting to be bedazzled.

Olric pulled out a worn box and the three of you got to decorating. You bumped into March’s side multiple times while looping string over the pointed branches, and each time, one of you would fluster and apologize to the other (though at some point you stopped reacting to it). Once the box was empty, you asked Olric where the new ornaments were.

Dusting his hands off, he told you to wait a moment while he went behind the store counter and grabbed a few small objects.

One was a larger, misshapen piece of copper metal that looked intentionally formed the way it was. The other was a smaller, intricate piece of silver, with acute angles and masterfully shaped details. There was an unmistakeable shimmer to it that differed from your tools that you couldn’t quite place, and then you realized that the ornament was made out of perfect silver ore.

Last season you had given March a perfect silver ore.

“Sorry there isn’t a new one for you to hang up this year.” Olric interrupted your realization, handing you a small item. “You can hang this one up; it was March’s first addition to the tree!”

Groaning, March slid his hand over his face. “I thought you threw that out.”

“I would never! The family tradition must continue!”

“One less piece of ugly metal isn’t going to kill the tree, Olric.”

While the two brothers bickered, you just continued to look at the tiny thing. With its pointy nubs and half-oxidized covering, the idea of just how old March may have been when he made it finally hit you.

“It’s so cute.” You cooed, smiling with mirth and holding it up to eye level with both hands. Almost immediately, March quieted and stopped arguing with Olric.

“Right, well I’ll fix us something to snack on.” Olric said, walking away. “Be right back!”

And then it was just you and March, alone. Awkward silence starting seeping into the air the second Olric left, so you decided to break it.

“How old were you when you made this?”

Stiffening, March replied with “four”.

“That’s so impressive! I had no idea you started blacksmithing when you were so young.”

Turning pink from the praise (which never seemed to happen when anyone else complimented him), he looked randomly around the room. Then, glancing upwards, he gasped a quiet intake of air.

March placed his palm over his mouth; eyebrows twitching and face reddening before you finally looked where he was looking.

It was mistletoe.

There was mistletoe hanging right above  you both. Who had even put it there? Olric? But he couldn’t have possibly planned for you both to stand under it.

“We have mistletoe back home too.” You laughed nervously, feeling your face grow warm. “We also have a tradition for it, but I doubt it’s the same since so many here are different.”

With the way March reacted when seeing it, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were wrong. He just continued to look at you with his half-covered, flustered face.

“We have a tradition for it too…” March breathed through his fingers. “We- um, it’s customary that everyone does it if they find themself underneath mistletoe with someone…”

Flushing hard, you found where he was going for this.

“U-us too.”

“So maybe we should-“

“Perhaps we should-“

You swallowed, and March lowered his hand.

Stomach twisting in knots, you stood a little closer to March, and he did to you.

“It is tradition.” He gulped, and you nodded sheepishly.

“Like Olric said: ‘the tradition must continue’.”

March parted his lips, then closed them. He shifted closer to you; face right up against yours. The tension between your bodies was thick as iron. His dark eyelashes fluttered as he turned abashed and looked away.

So, you leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

He lightly gasped again, and you could never get enough of the sound.

Turning immediately to look at you, his hand went up to cup your cheek. The warmth it provided pulled you in, and you found your lips inches from his.

March brought his thumb to your lower lip, eyelids heavy and seemingly entranced as he whispered “it is tradition after all”.

Then he kissed you.

It was soft and sweet, and made even more tender by the fact it was March kissing you. He was slow and gentle while his thumb gently brushed your cheek. Opening your eyes a little revealed his to be shut tight; eyebrows knit together in concentration, determination, or both.

After pulling away, you began to feel a little lightheaded as March averted his gaze; fingers brought up to touch his lips. The blush on his face was the darkest you had ever seen it, and a fluttering pride filled your chest knowing it was because of you.

“I’m glad at least one of our traditions is the same.” You said the tentatively, hand on your upper arm.

“Yeah…” March nodded absentmindedly, staring off into space.

“Found some Star candy!” Olric exclaimed, entering the room and snapping whatever spell the two of you were under; making you both jump out of arms reach. “I hope you don’t mind if it’s not fresh, but it’ll still taste good!”

“It’s fine.” You said a little too quickly, and Olric squinted his eyes at you. Then, he did the same to March; scrutinizing his flustered face. Finally, he looked up and saw the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling and seemed to piece it together.

With a giant smile growing on his face as he looked back down to eye level, he clapped his hands together and turned around to the bag he had set down on the counter.

“Okay!” He said. “I’ve got two different flavors, so no fighting…”

The words trailed off as you looked over at March again. His face seemed closer to a pink now, but if his refusal to look at you told you anything, you were still the cause of his flustered state.

Before tuning back into Olric’s ramble, one singular thought crossed your mind.

You sure do love traditions.

Taglist: March FoM

@itsabea @theloserqueen @moonfiresonorant @turdofanerd @mariusvonhangme

@susanatactica @anomiatartle @apric-t @starsdrawnpastel

@smoochi-march @thatonenewjerseychick

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

part five

pairing: james potter x black sister!reader, regulus black x sister!reader

genre: angst with like maybe a little fluff?

el's thoughts: this is part five! hope yall enjoy!

main masterlist | regulus masterlist | james masterlist

Regulus and Y/N Black showed up at the Potter’s manor once again. Almost a year had gone by since the first time and the twins returned completely different people. They were no longer the scared children in need of help and shelter. 

Y/N knocked on the door swiftly and took a step back as she straightened her trench coat lapels. Regulus stood behind her, just over her shoulder keeping an eye on the surroundings behind them. 

The door opened cautiously and the twins were met with a pair of the most striking green eyes.

“Black,” Lily Evans said.

“Evans,” Y/N nodded curtly in response. “We were wondering if we could speak to Sirius?”

The redhead had eyed the skeptically. “What makes you think he’s here?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Please Evans, I’m not an idiot.”

“And neither are we.” 

Y/N saw immediately how her eyes cast downward to her cloaked forearm. Y/N’s stomach turned as she looked back to Regulus who also seemed uneasy. Y/N pulled at her sleeve and cleared her throat. “Please… let me see my brother.” Y/N inhaled deeply, “I beg of you, Lily.”

Lily sighed out of pure pity. “Alright, go around back. I’ll send him that way.”

Regulus eyed the redhead in distrust but led Y/N to follow her directions either way. They weren’t in a position to argue.

They walked to the back of the manor and saw Sirius waiting on the back porch anxiously running his hands through his hair. When he saw his younger siblings he lit up like a light bulb and rushed to hug them tightly.

“Oh thank Godric! I thought Lily was pullin’ my leg.” He made no move to let them go. “Are you two alright? I got so scared when you didn’t return, and then I got no letters from the both of you-”

“We’re fine, Siri,” Y/N mumbled into his shoulder as she held him back just as tightly. Without her realizing it, the ache of missing her eldest brother only grew as time passed. She missed the way he held her. The way he comforted her as if she were a child. “We’re alright. Promise.”

Regulus was the first to break up the hug and he cleared his throat while blinking quickly to rid himself of the tears that prickled in the back of his eyes. “Sirius, we came here to tell you something.”

“You’re Death Eaters? I’ve heard that already.”

“Yes, we’re Death Eaters, but that wasn’t what we came all this way to tell you. We’re not idiots.”

Y/N forced herself not to roll her eyes. “We came to get help and offer our services.”

“Offer your services?” Sirius trailed off, confusion swimming in his eyes. 

“We know the Dark Lord’s plans, having heard everything first hand. We can be valuable to your cause don’t’cha think?” Y/N said with a mock confidence and cockiness that her eyes didn’t carry.

“No.” Sirius shook his head, looking between his two little siblings. “Abouslute not. Do you know what you would be signing up for? That’s basically asking to die.”

“Sirius, please.”

“No, I won’t allow it. You can’t just put your lives on the line for the sake of others.”

“Is that not what you’re doing? What James, Remus, and Peter are doing?”

“That’s different…”

“How?” Y/N nearly snapped. “Tell me how is it any different? Sirius our lives are already on the line every day we wake up. We didn’t sign up for this. We didn’t want this life, so let us gain what little control we can. I want the risk to be worth something, Sirius.”

The older Black shook his head, “It’s too dangerous… I can’t.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing you’re not really in charge of us then. Isn’t it?” Regulus snipped.

“We are doing this, Sirius. With or without your support,” Y/N looked up at him with tears lining her eyes. “But we’d much rather have you stand up for us.”

Sirius stared at his siblings in silent mourning of their youth before he nodded slowly. “Okay, I support you both.”

~

James walked into the Potter’s kitchen. His parents left the house to him and he opened it up to the order, not wanting to stay in the house alone or let it sit empty and useless. His parents wouldn’t want that. 

Normally only he and Sirius actually lived there but since a few weeks ago Y/N and Regulus moved back in. Some of the other Order members would spend a night or two but never stayed longer. So it took a few days for James to get used to other people in the house again. 

Y/N sat at the kitchen counter nursing a cup of tea, that by the looks of it had gone cold a while ago. She sat in her pjamas with one knee brought up to her chest and the other tucked under her with her chin on her knee. She looked tangled up but made it look comfy, almost enough to convince James that if he put himself in the same position he would be just as comfortable. 

“You look lost.” His voice startled her, causing her to jolt a little. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“Oh… no, no you’re all good. Sorry.” Y/N repositioned herself and let her painted nail trace the rim of her mug, her eyes became unfocused again as she stared into the dark liquid. 

“No need to apologize, love.” James walked to the stove where the kettle sat and turned it on again. The pet name that slipped from his lips went unnoticed by him but caught Y/N’s attention, though she wouldn’t mention it.

“What’re you doing up?” Y/N asked quietly, allowing him to take her cup and dump the cold tea.

“Couldn’t sleep. Why are you up?”

“Same reason apparently.” 

James hummed, putting a new tea bag in her mug while pulling out a mug for himself and doing the same. Y/N had finally realized that he was making her a new cup of tea and straightened up. “You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem, your cup had already gone cold. Unless you didn’t want another one…” James trailed off.

“No, I do,” Y/N spoke quietly, wringing her fingers together mindlessly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

James placed the freshly made cup of tea in front of Y/N, the steam curling up in soft, lazy tendrils. He gave her a small smile before settling into the chair opposite her, his own tea cradled in his hands. The kitchen was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy but not quite unwelcome. James found it oddly comforting.

“So,” he began, his voice cutting through the silence but not in a harsh way, “what’s on your mind? What’s keeping you up?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the direct question, but then again she shouldn’t have been surprised. “Oh… just stuff,” she said vaguely, her fingers fidgeting with the mug.

James tilted his head, studying her carefully. “You’re not very descriptive, are you?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, but she kept her gaze down. “Just… everything, I guess. The war, Regulus, Sirius, m-my parents…” Her voice faltered, and she shrugged as though it wasn’t a big deal, though the weight of her words said otherwise. 

James nodded, his brow furrowing. “That’s a lot to carry all alone.”

Y/N shrugged again, still not meeting his eyes. “I’m used to it by now.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.” His voice was soft but firm, and Y/N finally glanced up at him. There was something in his expression-–an openness, a warmth—that made her chest feel a little lighter, even if just for a fleeting moment.

“Yeah, well,” she said, trying to shrug off the vulnerability creeping in, “not much of a choice these days, is there?”

James didn’t press her, sensing she wasn’t ready to share more. Instead, he smiled, raising his mug. “Here’s to sleepless nights in the Potter kitchen. At least we’re not alone in our misery.”

That coaxed a small laugh from Y/N, a sound James found himself wanting to hear more often. “Cheers to that,” she said, clinking her mug against his softly.

~

Over the next few days, James found himself seeking Y/N out more often. Whether it was helping her brew potions for the Order, get ready to go to a Deatheatter meeting, or simply sitting with her in the living room while she read. He couldn’t seem to stay away. He liked the way her face softened when she was deep in thought, the way her laugh—when she let it out—filled the room like sunlight, a drastic contrast to her usual persona.

Y/N, on her part, was equally drawn to James. She hadn’t expected him to be so kind, so patient. She’s always known him as Sirius’ blood-traitor best friend, the one who was always laughing and causing trouble. But the day he found her crying in the hallway changed her perspective entirely. But this James added to her changed perspective. This James, the one who brought her tea without asking and listened without interrupting, was someone she found herself wanting to know better.

One evening, they were sitting on the porch steps, watching the sun dip below the horizon. The air was cool, and Y/N had wrapped herself in a blanket. James had brought out two mugs of hot cocoa, handing one to her without a word. 

“You’re really good at this, you know,” she said after a long silence.

James raised an eyebrow. “Good at what?”

“This,” she gestured between them and around them. “Making people feel… safe.”

He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think that’s just you, Y/N. You make it easy.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, hiding her smile behind the rim of her mug. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she muttered, though there was no usual bite to her words. “You’ve taken care of Sirius for years now and have made him feel safe. Even Regulus feels safe now.” She trailed off, “Well, as safe as we could be.”

James hummed and stayed silent.

As safe as they could be.

~

It was Sirius who noticed first.

He walked into the kitchen one afternoon to find James and Y/N sitting close together at the counter, their heads bent over a piece of parchment. James was explaining something, his hand occasionally brushing against hers as he pointed to the page. Y/N didn’t pull away, her face lit up with one of the rare smiles Sirius hadn’t seen in such a long time.

“Oh, this is interesting,” Sirius drawled, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

James and Y/N both looked up, their expressions a mix of guilt and annoyance. “What do you want, Sirius?” Y/N asked, rolling her eyes.

“Nothing,” he said, grinning. “Just enjoying the view. You two look cozy.”

“Bugger off,” James muttered, though his ears turned red.

Sirius’s grin widened. “Alright, alright. Don’t let me interrupt your... working.”

As Sirius left, Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “He’s never going to let this go.”

James laughed, reaching out to gently nudge her arm. “Let him have his fun. It’s not so bad, is it?”

Y/N peeked at him through her fingers, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “I suppose not.”

[mystwrites]

Snowed In (Squealing Santa 2k24)

Summary: Akutagawa doesn’t have fond memories of snow, but luckily for him, Atsushi is there to remind him that being snowed in isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

A/N: @squealing-santa gift for mango!anon!🥭💞i really hope you enjoy this fic w/atsushi cheering akutagawa up. also, i had a drawing from months back so here’s a little addition to your gift!😁

Much to the shock of everyone in Yokohama, there was a rather nasty snow storm that had rolled in. For the past few days, it’s been snowing hard, resulting in everyone being confined indoors. Most loved it, Atsushi even expressed his happiness with being locked indoors with Akutagawa until the storm blew over but Akutagawa didn’t necessarily share the same sentiment.

He wasn’t against spending time with Atsushi. He loved being around his boyfriend. The problem was the snow. First of all, there was way too much snow, keeping everyone indoors. Akutagawa had wanted to go out and do some last minute shopping but the weather had other plans.

Secondly, Akutagawa hated the snow, specifically heavy snow storms. It reminded him of living life in the slums as a child who was ignored when he was seen begging for scraps of food or digging in the ground for roots and bugs to munch on. It was a horrible reminder of how he was one insignificant person out of a billion people on this planet.

Deciding that his day was ruined in more ways than one, Akutagawa flopped onto the couch, grumbling to himself as he buried his face into the cushion. When he heard Atsushi ask if he was okay, his mumbling stopped and he huffed in annoyance, choosing to ignore his boyfriend who innocently just wanted to know if he was okay. A part of Akutagawa felt horribly guilty, remembering that he vowed to work on his horrendous communication skills but his pride kept him from giving in and giving Atsushi a decent apology.

Much to his shock however, Atsushi drew the curtains closed and sat next to Akutagawa in silence, moving his feet so they could sit together. This prompted Akutagawa to sit up and switch his position, his head now replacing where his feet previously where. As a hand gently ran through his hair, Akutagawa sighed, wishing that Atsushi would do something in an attempt to make him turn off his brain for a few minutes.

“Ryuu, I know you might not be in the mood,” Atsushi began, gently running his fingers through Akutagawa’s hair. “But can I attempt to make you feel better?”

As if the gods answered him, Akutagawa nodded, deciding that he didn’t care what Atsushi did. As long as it meant he could forget about the snow storm and his past involving snow storms, he would be fine with it.

“Also, do you mind telling me what’s bothering you?” Atsushi gently ran his thumbs along Akutagawa’s cheeks, the mafioso sighing with content at the sensations.

“I’d prefer not to delve into my past, Weretiger.” he replied, closing his eyes as Atsushi began to stroke his hair again. “Maybe once I’m feeling better, I’ll confide in you.”

“That’s fair.” Atsushi then playfully tried to pull his lips upwards into a smile. “Can I at least see you smile?”

“No.” Akutagawa said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t feel like smiling, Weretiger.”

The touches on his head ceased and Akutagawa whined at the loss of touch. He loved whenever Atsushi played with his hair. However, he jumped in shock when he felt fingers tickling the sides of his neck.

“That’s okay, I’ll just make you smile myself!~” Atsushi giggled, now tickling his lover with gentle scribbles. “We both know you’re starting to enjoy receiving tickles!~”

Akutagawa swatted Atsushi away, ready to yell at him and tell him to screw off, but deep down, he knew Atsushi was right. Ever since Atsushi grew brave enough to tickle him, Akutagawa slowly realized that being tickled wasn’t so bad, it just depended on who did it and how it was done.

He also remembered his tickling seemed to cheer Atsushi up every single time he witnessed him down in the dumps. Maybe it would work for him as well and maybe…just maybe Akutagawa wanted to laugh and be at Atsushi’s mercy for once. Maybe he just wanted to forget about his past and have fun with his favorite person.

“Wow! You normally never let me tickle you!” Atsushi giggled, tickling the sweet spot below Akutagawa’s chin, receiving a sweet giggle. “May I keep going?”

Sighing as his neck was left alone, Akutagawa was about to nod but froze. He suddenly felt really shy. Deciding to make Atsushi work, he got up and bolted, heading to the bedroom.

Atsushi gave chase, easily catching up and grabbing Akutagawa around the middle. Together, they went crashing down onto the bed, both young men giggling as they fought for the upper hand. Eventually, Atsushi won, sitting beside Akutagawa and holding his shoulders down to the bed.

“Y-you have my permission.” he finally said, cheeks flushing as Atsushi gave him three more kisses. “But I’ll admit, it’s pretty difficult to make me laugh out loud, especially when I’m not in a good mood. Are you up for the challenge?”

A grin formed on Atsushi’s face. “Oh, I’m up for it alright! Prepare yourself because you are gonna start laughing in no time!~”

The tickling started on Akutagawa’s stomach, the sensations very gentle compared to the tickling Akutagawa normally gives Atsushi. It felt nice though, the touches threatening to make him giggle, yet we’re quite tolerable, nearly relaxing depending on where Atsushi tickled. As Atsushi’s fingers danced along his waist, Akutagawa squirmed a little more, his cheeks heating up as he pursed his lips together. His waist was more ticklish than his stomach, that’s for sure.

Now things were becoming difficult. Akutagawa was more sensitive around his hips than his waist, the light tickles on his hipbones threatening to make him laugh. Atsushi seemed to sense this as well and surprised Akutagawa by squeezing at the squishy flesh just below his ribs.

Shaking his head, Akutagawa rolled to the side and tried to curl up, his face now plastered with a huge smile. Willing himself to not laugh was even more difficult now, Atsushi tickling at his more ticklish spots. The tickles under his ribs now changed to his thighs, Akutagawa weakly squirming and finally dissolving into soft fits of giggles that became louder as Atsushi squeezed the spot above his knees.

“Aahahahahaaa!! Nohoho!!” Akutagawa cried, reaching out to grab the tickling hands. “Nohohot thehehere!!”

“Aww! I found a tickle spot!~” Atsushi cooed, laughing as Akutagawa cackled upon getting his thighs squeezed. “Ryuu, are you boy crazy? If you’re ticklish here it means you’re boy crazy!”

“I-I’m nohohot!!” Akutagawa protested, slapping Atsushi’s hands away with a squeal. “Dohohon’t tehehease mehehe like that!!”

“But it must be true if you’re laughing this much! Or maybe you’re crazy for me?~” Atsushi got off briefly and resorted to lying against Akutagawa, grabbing a foot and gently scribbling. “See? Look, you’re laughing so much!~”

Akutagawa’s feet kicked out and he started to scramble for purchase, doing his best to squirm away from Atsushi. He was getting too ticklish to stay still, laughing harder with each passing second as Atsushi kept tickling his feet.

“Ihihi’m gohohonna…AAAHHAHA!! K-kihihill you…NOOHOHO!!!” Akutagawa rolled onto his side and kicked out, unsure if he wanted to kick Atsushi in the face or let him keep going. In the end, he resorted to allowing Atsushi to keep going.

It all became even worse, Akutagawa arching his back with a howl as he felt Atsushi lie on top of him and lift up one arm, threatening to tickle his armpit. Knowing he was screwed if Atsushi tickled there, he used his free hand to protect himself, pushing Atsushi’s hand away each time it drew near.

“Come on, Ryuu.~” Atsushi sang, laughing as Akutagawa refused. “Come on! Let me tickle you here!~”

“Absoluhuhutely nohohot!!” Akutagawa argued, laughing even more as he defended his armpit with his free hand. “Nohohot thehehere!!”

“Where?~”

“My ahaharmpits…WAAHAHAHA!! NO! NOHOHO!! AHAHTSUSHI!!”

Knowing he made a grave error, Akutagawa covered his face with embarrassment. He fell for a trick he normally would’ve used on Atsushi! The weretiger was stealing every trick he had used on him in the past! Now, all Akutagawa could think about were the relentless scribbling fingers tickling his worst spot.

Atsushi dug his fingertips into Akutagawa’s armpits a little more, the mafioso responding by shrieking with laughter and rolling from side to side. Seeing that the squirming became slightly dangerous for him, Atsushi got on top of Akutagawa’s taking a seat on his waist. Unable to stop Atsushi as his arms raised up over his head, Akutagawa let out a snort, practically howling as Atsushi kept tickling him gently but relentlessly.

The tickling became unbearable as Atsushi kept his fingers underneath Akutagawa’s arms. Each scribble left the mafioso in stitches, his face and stomach hurting from laughing so much. As Atsushi suddenly used his thumbs to rub deep circles into Akutagawa’s armpits, the man finally broke, his eyes filling with tears of mirth and his lungs aching for an ounce of oxygen.

This method worked wonders. Akutagawa for a split second had no idea why Atsushi started to tickle him and had no clue as to why he was being so gentle yet so merciless all at once. When he finally did remember, it was only when the tickling became too intense, Atsushi’s fingers staying at the hollows of his armpits for way too long.

“AHAHALRIGHT!!” Akutagawa wheezed, cackling as Atsushi used both hands to tickle his armpits. “IHIHI CAHAHAN’T TAHAHAKE IT!! I SURREHEHENDER!! MERCY!!”

“Are you begging, Ryuu?~” Atsushi teased, alternating between tickling Akutagawa’s lower set of ribs and his armpits. “Are you begging for me to have mercy on you? That’s so unlike you! Am I tickling you good?~”

Akutagawa nodded, snorting and laughing, squealing and screaming as his armpits and flanks got tickled relentlessly. “YEHEHES!! AAAHH! OKAY!! OKAHAHAY!! MEHEHERCY!”

Hearing the plea for the tickling to stop, Atsushi slowed to a stop, but not before he gave Akutagawa’s neck a raspberry, tickling his armpits for good measures. When he was satisfied, Atsushi released him, Akutagawa sighing with relief and satisfaction.

“Breathe for a minute then tell me.” Atsushi said, running his fingers through Akutagawa’s hair. “Take all the time you need.”

After a few minutes, Akutagawa looked into Atsushi’s eyes. “I…I hate snow storms.” he began. “They remind me of the nights I struggled to keep my sister and friends alive…and I always remember how people looked at us, making everyone, especially me feel insignificant.”

Before Akutagawa continued to ramble, Atsushi suddenly pressed their lips together, Akutagawa reciprocating and kissing back with an eagerness neither knew he had. He felt relief from not only explaining what was going on, but knowing Atsushi would never make him feel insignificant.

“You’re the most important person in my life, Ryuu.” Atsushi whispered, kissing Akutagawa’s cheeks as quickly as he could, giggles beginning to spill. “And I’m gonna make sure you know that anytime it snows like this!~”

Akutagawa let out a giggle as Atsushi kissed down his neck, flinching when he felt fingers dancing along his belly. “S-so yohohou’re going to tihihickle me during snohohow storms?”

Everything paused. “Only if you want me to.” Atsushi replied, sitting upright. “If you wish for something else, I won’t tickle you.”

“N-no…I…uhhh…I-I would love it if you tickled me during these moments of insecurity…” Akutagawa stammered, his cheeks now bright red all over again. “It makes m-me feel like you want me…”

“Of course I want you!” Atsushi exclaimed, suddenly pulling Akutagawa’s arms up over his head, forcing his laughter to return. “And I’ll prove it by tickling you from your ears…” Atsushi nibbled on Akutagawa’s earlobes, making him laugh. “All the way to your toes.” Atsushi reached back and gently tickled the underside of his lover’s toes, Akutagawa throwing his head back and howling.

“NOOHOHOHO!!” he laughed, gasping as Atsushi stopped and pinned his wrists out to the side.

“I’ll do that only if you want me to though.” Atsushi said, releasing Akutagawa’s arms to cup his bright red face. “I’ll never tickle you if you don’t wish for me to.”

Akutagawa smiled a genuine smile and knew what he wanted. Atsushi could sense it too and he grinned. “I…I want you to do it.” he admitted.

“Whenever it snows or at any point?”

“Whenever you sense that my past is coming back to haunt me, Atsushi.”

The weretiger smiled at the use of his first name, Akutagawa smiling back at him as they kissed again before Atsushi pulled away and started to leave the bed. Getting up to check outside, Atsushi made his way over to the window and slid the curtains aside.

Despite having been playing around for a while, it was still snowing, the snow falling with more intensity than it had been before. Seeing this, Atsushi rushed back over and grabbed Akutagawa’s ankle, the mafioso letting out a scream as fingers began to dance all over his right foot.

“It’s still snowing rather hard.~” Atsushi said, giving Akutagawa’s ankle a tug and bringing him to the edge of the bed. “Think you can handle more?”

Akutagawa thought about it, but he didn’t want anymore tickling. His lungs would explode. He did smile but shook his head, Atsushi instantly releasing him, but Akutagawa had something else in mind.

“No tickling…but,” he grinned as Atsushi instinctively leaned down upon his shirt being rugged on. “I wouldn’t mind a kiss or two.”

Atsushi giggled and pushed him down, leaning over him. His lips pressed against Akutagawa’s, making the dark haired man sigh. As Atsushi helped him up, he pulled them both back down, Atsushi laughing as he suddenly was launched to the left. Akutagawa grabbed Atsushi and grabbed his sides, making Atsushi burst into laughter instantly.

“N-no! NO, YOU LIHIHIED TO MEEHEHEE!!” Atsushi shrieked, cackling as Akutagawa straddled his waist.

“No, I did receive that kiss I wanted. I just think it’s time for you to reap what you sow.” Akutagawa replied, more than happy to flip those positions for a few minutes.

Despite the howling storm outside, all Akutagawa could hear was Atsushi’s adorable laugh. Maybe being snowed in wasn’t so bad after all and maybe, just maybe his bad memories would slowly be replaced with memories such as having Atsushi tickle him to pieces and him getting his revenge soon after.

[reallife6anoufriev6boy6]

father ts personal project?

i wanted to post a character i made to go along with one of my friends characters, so this is me posting it!

please note he is supposed to be an OVER EXAGGERATION of the tcc and what people think we are like. its not serious/how i see anyone - its all just jokes.

Kenneth Dylan Ainsley

18 years old

he/him

homosexual

୭ 💽 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 📓

dylan was born into jewish, average american family and grew up lower-middle class. he lived(s) in a mediocre neighborhood in a somewhat okay house. its falling apart, but is good for the time being.

his parents fight constantly like the average american couple and theyve subjected dylan and his younger brother, mason.

his life isnt very eventful and he tries his best to keep it that way.

hes close with his grandparents who he calls “bubbe” and “zayde”. they are both retired school teachers and they help him with his extensive school work and school applications. he spends a lot of time at their house in the guest bedroom, but when his parents saw his columbine tattoos he was disowned and kicked out. he went to go live with his grandparents.

he no longer believes in judaism but instead believes in reincarnation and spirituality. he hopes to he reborn as black cat.

୭ 💽 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 📓

dylan is 5’7 and rather chubby, weighing about 155 pounds rather then the average 148 for his height.

he has shaggy, long brown hair that almost looks black and he has plenty of acne and freckles on his face and body.

he wears brown, thin framed glasses and lots of flannel shirts with leather coats and jeans. he wears boots mostly as well and sometimes he will wear band shirts or ones that correlate with bis favorite crime cases.

he has self harm scars all over his body as well all varying in how bad they are. he has some words and symbols carved in as well.

he doesnt seem the type, but he also has tattoos. he has dirk striders shoulder tattoo as well as dylans cross and “wrath” tattooed on his body. he also has erics shotgun and dylans tec-90 tattooed.

he struggles with mental health disorders and asthma #nerd and is on a slue of medications and he always has an inhaler with him.

୭ 💽 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 📓

dylan owns three pets. two rats and one black cat all respectively named “juke” “joint” and “jezebel” after the kmfdm song.

dylan is constantly studying and working on school applications. hed rather be doing that then hanging out with friends or meeting people. he cares too much about his grades and future. his grandparents try to push him to go out but he doesnt.

he is a total nerd and he loves superheroes and all of that kind of stuff. he collects comic books and cds and loves to watch shows like southpark and the simpsons.

he also really likes homestuck and the tcc. his favorite homestuck character is dirk strider and his favorite case is columbine.

he runs a blog website under the name “naturalwrath” and he frequently visits tumblr as well. he fangirls over dylan and his entire blog is facts and information about him as well as talking about how much he wants to date him. he has a delusional attachment to him.

he plays dnd and had a homestuck themed campaign with some of his nerdier friends.

when dylan falls in love, he falls in love HARD. he gets paranoid and obsessive, but he doesnt do anything with it. he typically just gets celebrity crushes and stalks famous people online.

when in relationships he is very distant and unavailable. hes terrible at them, but during sex he will be like a dog at the foot of your bed. he has a thing for worshipping his sexual partners and being treated as a follower.

his entire self esteem and mood depends on his relationships. if he gets broken up with then good luck getting him to even get out of bed.

he doesnt show ANY of this. on the outside he seems like a stuck up, lonely nerd who hates everyone and only wants to be in his books. he comes off incredibly boring and lame basically.

he had dated another boy named sascha who was an active juggalo. he reminded dylan of gamzee as well as the fact he had the same name as kmfdms lead singer so he was instantly hooked on him, but they werent good together.

they broke up eventually and it had made dylan spiral and be more on edge and agitated. he still kept all of his old clothes, pictures, and face paint containers too. it didnt help him feel better - it just kept him stuck in the past.

they broke up over the phone and dylan couldnt stop sobbing while begging sascha to give him a second chance, but he didnt.

he craves romance and sex so much that it would crush him and anyone hes with. hes so overbearing when it actually comes down to it/when hes not being totally distant.

he keeps several journals and notebooks for all of his thoughts and ideas. he then types them all out onto his blogs. sometimes he will print and cut out pictures of dylan and eric to put in his journal and he’ll rant about how cute they were and how much he misses them. its his coping mechanism.

hes into fandom spaces in general and sometimes he likes to do very basic cosplays and draw fanart.

on the note of drawing, he likes to draw his crushes as well. anytime he has a crush or partner thats all he will draw

sometimes his grandparents go out of town (more often then not) so he frequently has the house to himself. when he does he will typically wear his “wrath” tshirt and will blast kmfdm and other bands they enjoyed all while still studying and doing his nerdy things. he definitely wears that shirt to sleep too and holds onto a “natural selection” tshirt while he does.

he doesnt like drugs or alcohol or smoking, but on occasion he will indulge in cigarettes and vodka for the obvious reasons.

hes incredibly autistic if that wasnt clear yet.

he keeps razor blades, bandaids, and money in the back of his phonecase.

his ex boyfriend, sascha, made him earrings of dylans cross and he constantly wears them even though theyve broken up now. its just another thing for him to hold onto.

he works at a local used record/cd store and hes always breaking the rules and saving the cds and cool things that they get in.

he likes to bake and he uses that as his love language, although he doesnt have anyone to give it to so he typically eats what he makes anyway.

overall, his only coping mechanisms are cutting, eating his own baked goods, and blogging about school shooters.

he changed his name to dylan so that he would be more like dylan klebold. its his life mission to be like him.

he has a scent kink and loves the smell of sweat and cigarettes, but he would pretend he thinks its gross.

he pretends like he doesnt care in general, but he gets extremely hurt and upset easily. sometimes it all just spills out and he has a breakdown, but otherwise it seems like he has nothing else going on.

he has his drivers license and drives an old, red van that sort of looks like this. he keeps all of his tcc related things in there (clothes, books, etc) because he doesnt want his grandparents to find it too like his parents.

he uses an old busted up laptop that his littered with stickers and can barely run, but it works for his blogging needs. like this, but way more fucked up

he carries around an old backpack thats dirty and ripped up with plenty of pins and patches on it. kind of like this.

[liam-bean]

💔

[classical-vanity]

There’s days when I really feel like a failure/ disappointment because I think everyone had pretty high expectations of me growing up and I feel like I’ve done nothing with my life

[phantajam]

my hot take about descendants is that NONE of the core four were ready for a relationship until maybe like, the third movie (rant in tags)

[ilonacho]

the fucking audacity of watching the pixar short film “going home” while i’m home for my grandma’s funeral.