#and symbolically strong enough the way it turned out :/ oh well!

[ria-starstruck]

attack on @spookywaffledio's ken'ya!

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

■●○Shojou Pain○●■

“I want to have a connection with someone. I want to be needed by someone. I want the confidence to feel like it’s okay to live.”

[0][1-Here!]

─── ⋆⋅✮⋅⋆ ──

"Ask the second years!" Yuji chides, the two of you huddled up on the floor. A note book sitting on your lap as dozens of manga lay across the your desk. "No way!" You create a an 'x' symbol with your hands.

"What if they think I'm not good enough for him!" You cry out, tugging at your hair. Your phone digs as a notfication from Junpei pops up.

"Ha..? They wouldn't." The pink-nette deadpans.

"Think about it..!"

The heroine was cornerd in a desserted hall as the rival scowls. "Why do you keep bothering him! Weirdo!"

"There's gotta be someone we know who has info on him.." Itadori ponders aloud. "Someone with experience.."

Grabbing your phone, you see the small text. Even he was trying to help you out, even if he was doing special training with Nanami. You read outloud the text he sent.

"Junpei said: "Someone one that knows him well enough." "

Yuji hums in agreement. "Someone we know too.."

The two of you stew in thought as Nobara and Megumi return back to the classroom. Lunches in hand, converseing quietly.

"Wait."

Fushiguro pauses, a strange look on his face. The brunette blinks, turning her attention ahead of them.

"Geh-!? Creepy..." Kugisaki mumbles.

There teacher, who had been hiding by the doorway, watches excitedly. Teetering back and forth on his long legs. Readying to jump into the classroom, like a dog having there name called!

"I got it!" You cheer, jumping out of your seat. Slamming your hands against the desk, your gaze faraway.

"Who?"

"Todo!"

Aftee those words were utter, you could hear a small distraught yell from outside.

─── ⋆⋅✮⋅⋆ ──

"Okkotsus type eh..." Todo mumbled, his muscular frame leaning back against the chair. "Hmmm.. Well, when I first heard of him. I thought of some total badass."

"He is-!" You tried to defend, but stop yourself, never actually seeing him in action. But hearing how Fushiguro respected him, along with being a Speical grade, hell, even close with your seniors!

He... Was a power house.

But. What did you actually KNOW about HIM?

Shaking away your thoughts, you wait expectantly for an answer.

"Ha! When I saw him though, he looked like a scared lamb!" Todo laughed. "But, I could feel his cursed energy as soon as he stepped in the arena."

Sipping at your drink, you watch your friend smirk as he recalls the memories. You nodded along, especially the smallest details.

"But type of woman... He never really told me." He shrugged as you choke on your straw, coughing into your fist.

"Though, your strength to puruse him is admirable!" Todo pat your shoulder ruffly, laughing again. "I'm quite good at reading people, so I'm sure I know his type!"

You sweated, maybe asking the second-years should of been your first choice.

"A strong, resilient woman, with a big rack." Todo nodded thoughtfully.

"...." You smack your head against the table as Todo smiles smugly at his answer. "...Thanks, Todo..." You grit out, before popping your head back up in realization. "Oh! Right, I almost forgot, here!"

Taking the papers out from your bag, you slide them over to him. Whispering, "for your trouble's." You said seriously.

"Huh? What's this.." He picks them up, then immediately becomes quiet.

Holding out your hand, he takes it quickly. Gripping it firmly as the two of you share a look of aknowlegement.

"Good luck! (Y/N)!"

"Thank you!"

─── ⋆⋅✮⋅⋆ ──

Eyes ahead on the lap course, you huff as you do. Not as good as your pink haired friend, but doing your best!

Hearing laughter near the bleachers, you slow your pace to get a peek.

Maki laughed manically as she swiped at Yuta with her spear as he expertly dodged. Swinging back at her with his blade.

You gaze in awe, almost stopping completely until your nudge by Kugisaki. "Hey, you' alright? You seem space-casey." Your pace became snail-like as the two of you walked and talked.

"I'm fine, just thinking!" You laugh it off, glancing away.

"Hmmm..." Nobara sighed. "I heard from Itadori that you went out on a date."

"HUH!? -A-h.. No!" You explain your situation to jer quickly, fumbling a bit on a few words. But making sure your point came across.

"Good! Cause' I thought either one of us went on a date we'd tell each other, that idiot was lying, I knew it!"

You bashfully defended Yuji, "He just meant "going out" not.. "OUT." " Nobara scowls. "Your worse than he was when I asked."

Huffing, she leaves your side, but pauses. Glancing back at you. "Though, I'll be sure to help you dress probably for a real date." She sassed, before leaving the track to grab her watterbottle.

You follow after before driffing over to Panda's side discreetly as you could.

Noticing you, the cursed corpse welcomes your presence. "Hey (Y/N)! You wanted to see the action?" Panda jokes as Inumaki agreed. "Salmon."

Face warm, you take a seat with them. "Ah, well... I wanted to ask something."

"Go on.."

"Is.. Is.. Okkotsu, seeing anyone?" You smile anxiously, gazing at your senior classmate hopefully.

"Kelp."

"Oh-ho~!" Panda pats your back encouragingly. "I see! You should of said something sooner! Toge is right though, he's single."

You beam, letting out a relived breath. "Ha... I was super curious, but I got worried, then I asked Todo. And he said Yuta's into big bo-"

"He perfers normal." Panda interupted your rant.

You pause, shutting up. Waiting for him to continue eagerly.

Before Panda could continue, Maki yells at you. "Oi! (Y/N), don't slack off." She calls at you, while you squeak when seeing even Yutas attention directed at you.

Slumping in your seat, you smile reassureingly at your two seniors. "Right.. Sorry."

You hop down from the bleachers, not daring to catch a glance at the male who held your heart. Gazing ahead, you walk past Yuta as your eyes light up when seeing Yuji call you over to the field.

"Hey! (Y/N)! Junpei said he's free this weekend to see Earth Worm Four!"

You scream back with delight as you ran to him. "No way! You think we could convice Nobara and Megumi to come with-!"

The Heroine misses the glances she got, oblivious as a typical shoujo maiden.

Maki sighs at your shouting, ignoring it as she glances at her friend. "Yuta, we can take a break now. You don't seem very focused." She mocks, reading his slightly stiff movements easily.

"Sorry Maki."

"YUUUUTAAA~!" A cheery voice sings, walking into grassy area.

"Oh, Gojo-Sensei?"

"The one and only! But, I got a mission for you."

─── ⋆⋅✮⋅⋆ ──

[Taglist: @mint129106 @iamboredowo @yveening @okkvtsu @bankaixx @imphuong]

[Fan art, reblogs, comments are always apperciated! I hope you all like the update! Are poor guy needs some love!]

[dragonking10]

Jaune The Black Knight

An AU where Jaune and Ruby decided to say Fuck the world, got married after going rogue (they left Beacon after being betrayed by their friends) and had a daughter together named Olivia.

Salem was watching everything through her Grimm and decided to personally invite them to join her faction in turn they will get their revenge. With nowhere else to go they accepted now Ruby leads a battalion of Grimm with Jaune as her Second in Command.

And yes Salem cares about these two adorkable couple and vowed to never let anyone hurt them ever again.

I have baffled long enough, let's get this show on the road.

This particular day Salem ordered for Ruby to get some needed rest after capturing a few villages in her name, Jaune got up from bed and got ready for another day of spreading fear around the world

He showered, brushed his teeth, puts on his black armor, his wife changed Crocea Mor's color scheme, instead of a white shield it's now black with a gold outline and their combined family symbol, instead of a blue hilt it's now blood red, instead of a silver blade it's now a black sword (like the one Sokka made from Avatar the Last Airbender)(As for Jaune's armor, it's the Rusted Knight armor but it's polished and the color is black and gold, helmet included)

Jaune walks into the kitchen where his wife made him some food to go, he grabbed the bag, kissed his wife and turned to leave when suddenly his wife stopped him

Ruby: Wait Jaune, do you know what day it is?

Jaune: Uh... Wednesday?

Ruby: No dummy it's take your daughter to work day!

Jaune: Uh I don't think it's a good idea to bring our daughter to our kind of work, at least not yet.

Ruby: I know, but she has been wanting to come with us for a while and since it's take your daughter to work day I figured now is the best time, plus she'd have my big strong dark knight as her protector~.

Jaune: Well yeah but-

Ruby caressed his face: Jaune you RoseArc-promised.

Jaune sighed: I did didn't I?

3 Hours Later

The scene shows a metal door to one of Atlesian's military bases exploded with Jaune rushes in while holding his daughter's hand but hit his head on the top of the door-way

Jaune holds his head for a second before activating his shield protecting his daughter amd himself from the bullets from the AK's

Jaune: Keep your head down Olvia!

Olivia holding a stuffed Ursa toy: Okay daddy-Whoa!

Jaune quickly dragged Olivia to cover but Olivia lost grip of her best friend.

Olivia: MR. CUZZYBOTTOM!!!

Olivia was about to run out to grab her friend but her father stopped her

Jaune looked down to his daughter and saw her pointing at her stuffed animal which is laying on the ground near the Atlesian Knights

Jaune sighs and looks at Olivia: I'll get him, you stay here where it's safe.

Jaune rushes out of cover, raised his shield and charged at the robot knights

Jaune quckly cut and sliced through the knights, grabbed the toy and rushed back to his daughter

Jaune out of breath and his daughter her toy: Here you go baby.

Salem: Who's the little girl?

Jaune nervous: Oh Lord Salem! Uh... it's bring your daughter to work day and uh I'm sorry for bringing, but my wife says we barely had time to spend together and let's be honest she's right, okay she's right!

Salem:...

Jaune even more nervous laughs a bit: Do you have kids? Cause heh I mean they change your world.

Salem:...

Jaune facepalms and mutters: Ugh I'm probably gonna get either fired or killed for this but... Fuck it.

Jaune grabs his daughter's hand: I love my daughter!

Salem brought her fist to her chest and smiles a bit: That really hits me where I'd live.

Salem noticed a survivor and used her powers to grab his neck

Salem: What have you done with those plans!? Jaune here never gets time to spend with his daughter because of PEOPLE LIKE YOU!!!

Salem snaps the survivor's neck and quickly realized there was a child present

Salem raised her other hand to her mouth: I'm so sorry you had to see that.

Salem drops the body

Salem kneels down to Olivia's eye level: Are you having fun being at work with your father?

Olivia gets nervous because she doesn't like talking to strangers and hides her face behind her father's leg

Salem chuckles: I know I'm pretty scary.

LATER IN MENAGERIE

Jaune was holding his daughter's hand as he and a White Fang goon was patroling a town looking for their targets when suddenly they come across an old man (Ozpin) wearing a hood with Weiss, Blake and Yang behind him also wearing hoods

Jaune stops them: Hold up you all seem familiar.

Ozpin uses his magic: These are not the students you're looking for.

Jaune: These are not the students we're looking for.

Olivia: Yes they are.

Ozpin: Move along

Jaune: Move along!

Ozpin and the three bitche- uh I mean students moved along going into the tavern for intel

Olivia: Daddy, You're not even trying!

Jaune: Honey, It's 110 DEGREES IN THIS CONTINENT!!! I CAN'T HEAR IN THIS THING!!! *points at his helmet* I WAS JUST REPEATING WHAT I THOUGHT THE GUY WAS SAYING! IT'S NOT LIKE IT'S MY OWN MOTHER FUCKING THOUGHT IN THE MATTER, OKAY!?

Olivia runs off crying and Jaune realized what he had done

Jaune feeling guilty and runs after his daughter: HONEY!!!

White Fang Goon: See? That's why I don't take my daugher to Jack Shit!

FEEL FREE TO ADD MORE IF YOU WANT

[amaiaqt]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤミㅤsave the dateㅤ⋆ ｡˚ㅤ♡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwhat kind of dates would they take you on ? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ modern tighnari, albedo !

"anonymous order; ...can i request coffee shop or picnic baskets with tighnari and albedo ? — message cut."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤbeen a while since i've written for these two, huhu . . ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthank you for requesting, enjoy ! xoxo ♡

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤtighnari !ㅤ

he doesn't mind spending the day with you however you'd like, he's not picky. most of the time, he insists you decide, but if you instead give him the decision to make, he will not be able to resist a botanical garden date. — and now that you two are here, he just hopes you're enjoying as much as him.

"you seem to like the flora." he smiled at you, observing the way your eyes wandered over each type of flower on display. "say, love, i've always wanted to hear about your interest in botany," you turned to him, meeting his gradient pupils as he hums.

"are you certain of that, love ? while i don't mind sharing with you my stocked-up knowledge of plants alike, as a matter of fact, i would love to share with you. but, most prefer to enjoy these types of places in serenity." he explains, his eyes examining the provided descriptions of each flora. "i would love to hear you talk all day, besides, the font they used for the descriptions are barely intelligible." and laughter resounded from the two of you.

"fair point, very fair point." he agreed through short laughs, lifting a leaf away from one of the plates that provided the description. "well to start off, i hope you know what these flowers are." he starts, waving his hand out in front of a bush of pink petalled flowers. "glaze lilies, they're symbolic in liyue harbor, along the gardens of yujing terrace." "correct. so you have your knack of knowledge too." "only surface level !"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤalbedo !ㅤ

him and the former are rather on the same page, he's not picky with spending the day with you either. hell, just eating take out with you on the sofa in his apartment while watching a movie is enough for him to consider a date night.

but, he's always wanted to take you to an archaeological museum. he felt the strong urge one day to just dedicate an empty journal to writing out a to-do list of things he wants to experience with you, which he would excuse as "it would be like documenting my love life, which is sort of research if you think about it really hard." — and taking you to that archaeology date is number 1 on said list.

so imagine his surprise when you were telling him the directions to the particular museum he had written down in that journal. "there's this museum i heard of nearby, full of archaeological stuff like fossils, artifacts and all those trinkets." you rambled as he drove the car beside you, noticing the way he perked up at the topic. you smiled to yourself,

"and you know, i saw it in your to-do list. so i decided to set a date for us there !" perfectly timed at a stop light, he turned to you. "really . . ?" there was a light of excitement in his eyes, and you couldn't help but smile. "really !" "oh, darling, you didn't have to." you watched the smile tug at your boyfriend's lips as he looked at you, and you could see him melt. "hey, don't thank me yet ! get us to the museum first !" he laughed, "of course, of course."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ© amaiaqt, 2023 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤdo not plagiarize !

[prolix-yuy]

Chapter 5: They Destroyed the Man I Was

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader “Sugar”

Summary: He's only living the life he dreamed of.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: T, FEELINGS but that's about it, Jack in his element comes with a warning, will be E in later chapters so full series is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: It's time to see Jack going about his life in this little town, and that includes another cameo by a Golden Circle character. I'm just forcibly taking that cast and giving them better lives because the directors sure as hell couldn't be bothered. Enjoy!

Cross-posted on AO3

Decoherence Masterlist   ||   Whiskey & Westworld Masterlist

You thought sleep would never come, swirling thoughts clamoring to the surface as soon as you crawled into bed, but the exhaustion pulled harder. Tumbling into mesmerizing dreams of landscapes that were only painted on large canvases, wiring and scientists watching through glass, you finally woke when one of the panes shattered under your touch. 

The symbolism of your dreams was only getting more ridiculous.

Michelle let you be yesterday, seeing your tear-stained face and pretending to be occupied in the kitchen. She did offer you a glass of whiskey later in the evening, when a walk didn’t prove fruitful for your restlessness. This morning, she’s treating you to “a stick-to-your-ribs” breakfast, complete with eggs, bacon, toast, and a strange puffed pancake she calls a dutch baby. It’s delicious, and indeed presses against your ribs as you fill up. 

“So what brings you here to our quiet corner of the world? I don’t get many strangers outside of the agricultural fair in the fall.” Michelle tops off your coffee, waiting expectantly as you try to stall by mixing your beverage the way you like it. When you catch her gaze again she’s looking at you kindly but expectantly.

“Visiting an old friend,” you say, hoping that will sate her curiosity. You should have known a community this small would take notice of your intrusion.

“The Strongs? Or the Moores? You one of their city friends?”

You smother a laugh. Between deciding to leave and getting on the plane, you hadn’t exactly packed for the occasion. Your outfit isn’t quite “city girl lost in a strange new world,” but it’s not as worn-in as her boots and faded denim.

“Jack, actually. Jack Daniels. He’s just…” you start to gesture, but Michelle’s eyes widen, putting the coffee pot down on a towel and squaring her hands on her hips.

“Well I’ll be damned. I didn’t think we’d see the day but here you are!” Your face must radiate confusion, because Michelle drops into the seat across from you, hands tented under her chin. “Jack’s a private man, but he’s told us enough of his story to know a few things, and the topic of his heart was always ripe gossip.”

Skin beginning to tighten, you drop your hands in your lap and try to think of an excuse to leave. There’s a danger you’re tiptoeing up to and you desperately want to run from it. The best you can manage is a strained, “Oh?”

Right on cue, Michelle’s hospitality kicks in and she squeezes your arm across the table.

“Oh damn my mouth, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make you self-conscious. We don’t get new people often, especially those who stay, and a handsome country boy rolls in? We all had questions, and some finally pestered a few answers out of him.” Michelle leans forward folding her hands on the floral tablecloth. “I’m guessing you’re the one he’s been waiting for.”

“I don’t know what…” you begin, but Michelle doesn’t really need your input to continue this conversation. Which is perfect because you have no idea what to say.

“Few of the young girls, and some of the lonely and divorced, sniffed around Jack when he bought his ranch. Attractive man, no family in tow, kind and helpful. If I weren’t happily married I’d have tried my luck too.” Her conspiratorial smile does relax your shoulders, though the image of Jack surrounded by eligible, beautiful women flips your stomach. “But he always turned them down. Nicely, but firmly. Wasn’t until Mary at the Fairweather got a few drinks in him that the story came out.”

His past comes to mind unbidden. A wife lost, child never known, a life driven to revenge and anger. At least that’s the history Delos gave him.

“He said there was a woman he fell for, thought she felt the same. Classic wrong place, wrong time. Always said he was waiting for her to let him try again. It was romantic, even if it frustrated most of the female population.” Michelle cups her chin and sighs, fixing you with a soft gaze. “He’s been happier lately, taking trips away and coming back excited. I thought maybe it was work, but I hoped it was love.” 

Your story. He gave them your story with Jack. And one of many questions still needing answers - how long has he known how to find you? - clatters in your silent throat.

“The last few weeks he’s been anxious, always checking his phone. Waiting for something. And I guess we know why!” She slaps the table with merriment scrunching her face. You put up your hands placatingly.

“I don’t know if it’s really all that,” you say, but Michelle shushes you. 

“Of course it is. Don’t worry, I won’t spread it around. The two of you must have a lot of catching up to do.” Her eyes flit to the front hall, a bell tinkling at the edge of your hearing. Heavy boots approach, and even before you turn you know who it must be.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear!” Michelle calls, standing to greet Jack. 

“I’ve hardly been tempting you to sin, ma’am,” Jack drawls as you turn to see him enter. He’s in a heather gray button-up today, the heavy denim jacket complementing his broad shoulders. Hat in hand, the other holds a stack of two dozen eggs that Michelle takes gratefully.

“I just finished the blanket, it’s on the chaise in the living room.” She goes to reach into her pocket when Jack shakes his head.

“The blanket is payment enough, Shelly, you’ve been slaving over it for too long. Those’re a down payment, I’ll bring the rest next week.”

The exchange tingles your body with a sentimentality that you can barely explain. A town that still gives gifts and barters in a time when everything is transactional? You fix your eyes on the little bit of breakfast still lingering on your plate.

“Thank you for taking such good care of my friend too,” he says, finally acknowledging your presence. When you turn your face up to look at him the shyness in his smile heats your cheeks. 

“Michelle has been an excellent host,” you agree, getting another dismissive wave.

“We’re friends now, sweetie, I’m Shelly to you. I’ll leave you to it.” Waving as she takes her eggs into the kitchen, you and Jack are left alone in the ample dining room. He shifts, hat between his hands as you try to find something to say.

“Sorry for bursting in like this, I figured you were here. Not many other places to stay in town.”

You nod with a bright smile, easier today than yesterday.

“Shelly was just telling me all the gossip. Seems like you’re quite the heartbreaker.”

Jack groans as you get to your feet, the space between you still tenuous. “I hope nothing too embarrassing. She’s a heck of a town collector, specializing in secrets.” He leads you towards the door, softer, slower steps as you follow.

“Apparently you have quite a fan club,” you tease, pulling a chuckle from Jack’s lips. It makes your heart clench, hearing it again. 

“Apparently, keeping to myself is dark and mysterious to the imaginative.”

Jack holds the door open for you as you step onto Shelly’s front porch, warm sunshine peeking through delicate clouds. Patterns dapple the asphalt as you walk side by side into the main part of town. After visiting his home you thought the town might be Sweetwater 2.0, but it’s charmingly modern. A main road stuffed with shops, doors open to let the soft breezes in. A public garden, blooms fat and heavy on the branches ready to burst. The towering steeple of a church, the squat columns of a library, Christmas lights still wound around streetlights. Like taking off a snow-caked winter coat, your spirits lighten with each step until your hand itches to find its way into Jack’s palm, consequence be damned. 

“First stop is the Unwin’s shop, my truck’s parked outside,” Jack says, interrupting his soothing descriptions of each storefront and landmark. You’d lost the thread of his conversation two blocks back but nodded as he led you into a general store. He reaches up in the doorway and taps an archaic brass bell hanging over your heads. 

“Right on time, Daniels,” a male voice with a Cockney accent calls, the owner climbing down a beat-up ladder. The men slap shoulders as the ringing fades. “Got comp’ny?” the man asks, turning to hold out his hand to you. He’s got a million-watt smile and a sharply angled face, light brown hair swept back from his forehead. Brown eyes that seem to have perpetual mirth in their depths sparkle behind thick-rimmed glasses. He’s lankier than Jack but all muscle under a white henley and canvas apron. “Gary Unwin, proprietor of this fine establishment.” You shake his hand and tell him your name, faltering when he holds it for a moment longer.

“Jack never graces me with beautiful lady friends. Got quite the poor record with them, ain’tcha Jack, never could close the deal.” Gary straightens and gives you a once over, and where you might feel offended instead the swaggerish nature of this interaction is outlandish enough that you glean it as good-natured ribbing.

“Knock it off, hotshot,” Jack warns, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up at his firm command. Gary’s eyebrows shoot up, turning to retort, but suddenly snaps back to you with a knowing smile.

“Oh, you’re his girl then?” he says, hands on his hips and backing up a step. You mustn’t have schooled your face well enough, because Gary’s smile drops as he turns back. Jack is the picture of embarrassment, busying himself with something in the dried goods aisle. When Gary whips around his smile is full of wonder.

“Oh you’re his girl. The girl,” he says, leaning back against the shop counter. Your eyes dart to Jack for help but he’s standing between two shelves, looking intently at something of interest.

“Didn’t expect such a warm welcome, but I’m thankful for it,” you say, resisting the itching feeling of invisible eyes all over you. 

“You haven’t had a warm welcome until you’ve met my wife. Tilde!” Gary shouts over his shoulder, closing up the ladder and setting it to the side. A scuffle of footsteps and a rosy-cheeked blonde woman peeks out from the back of the shop.

“Hello!” she calls, coming to stand beside Gary. “I’m…” she starts when Gary interrupts her.

“She’s the girl,” he says, giddily nodding in Jack’s direction. His gaze doesn’t lift from its spot, and something pings in your mind at it.

“She’s the…?” Tilde asks, then seeing Jack her face springs into surprise. “You’re the girl!”

“She’s the girl.”

“I’m the girl,” you interject, making a small wave and suppressing a grimace. 

“Oh you must think we’re the nosiest bunch outside a herd of anteaters.” Tilde swats Gary, who shoots her a hurt look. You plead silently with Jack to come to your side, but he’s honed on the shelf, sharp, focused. 

“I swear Jack hasn’t been running around airing all his laundry, we basically dragged it out of him,” Tilde continues, but your eyes are locked on Jack. His face is flushing, one hand gripping the shelf so tight his knuckles are white. Panic flares like a lit match in your chest.

“Jack?” you ask to no response. Gary and Tilde look over their shoulders and snap into action, Gary hurrying to Jack’s side and leading him away from his spot. Tilde yanks a chair from a cafe table and places it beside Jack, Gary urging him to sit. You’re frozen on the spot, heart hammering and your ears ringing until all you can hear is the thin wail of fear.

“Jack, c’mon bruv, sit down,” Gary soothes, Tilde hovering as Jack blinks slow, hard. Numbly you rush to him, gripping his biceps as he struggles. Finally his hands close around your shoulders as a whoosh of air fills his lungs. 

“There we go, we got you,” Gary reassures as Jack slumps into the chair, sucking in slow breaths. You drop to your knees with him, studying his pained face. He manages to get his breathing under control as Tilde hurries to the back. Water runs as you slide your hands down to hold one of his. 

“M’good,” Jack mutters, leaning forward to cup the back of your head. It’s just you and him now, Gary and Tilde a distant afterthought even as Tilde places a cool towel on the back of Jack’s neck. His thumb caresses your cheek, the brim of his hat shading your face. When he opens his eyes there’s exhaustion, but also relief. 

“Sorry for the scare, Sugar,” he rasps. You worry your own thumb in the palm of his hand, reassuring pressure. 

“S’okay, I’m here,” you say. Jack’s face is still a little pink, but you swear the bitten-back smile is all your doing.

You sit on the porch with Tilde as Gary helps Jack load a couple boxes into his truck. Jack rolls his eyes when Gary calls him an old man and refuses to let Jack carry anything, but you catch the mild concern in Gary’s brows, the gentle redirection of hands. Jack huffs but allows the other man to take the lead. Tilde offers you a glass of iced tea, sweetened to perfection.

“Has that happened before?” you murmur as Jack’s shirt pulls across his shoulders. The heat has started to beat down, sweat gathering along your hairline and glistening on Jack’s chest. He unbuttons his shirt one further, treating you to a tantalizing view of his chest.

“He has spells sometimes. Told us he was taking care of it, that he saw a doctor about it.”

What kind of doctor would that be, Jack?

“Some kind of seizure, he said. It’s not often, but we’ve caught him a couple times before. He tells us he’s fine, and we mind our business about it.”

Jack pats Gary on the back as they talk, leaning against his truck tailgate. You trace the curve of his relaxed smile, the expressive lilt of his brows, how perfectly he fits into this landscape so much like his home but leagues freer.

“You’re good friends to him,” you say, smiling at the sunny woman. She returns it, her whole face crinkling genuinely. 

“He’s easy to love. It’s like the world gave him all the gifts but all he does is share them with others. You know that,” she says, tilting her head with a knowing wink. 

“We didn’t get much time together when we first met. I still feel like there’s so much to learn about Jack,” you muse, watching the boys finish their conversation. Jack checks on you over his shoulder, eyes lighting up every time.

“You could take seven lifetimes and never learn everything about a person,” Tilde says, pushing her rocker to sway. “That’s where trust, and patience, and love comes in. Fills in the gaps.”

Gary clomps up the steps, accepting Tilde’s outstretched tea with a large gulp. She trails her fingers over his arm and they share a look that speaks whole sentences. Jack follows cautiously, nodding to you. 

“Ready to go, Sugar?” 

You don’t correct him this time.

The slam of the truck doors precedes a silence you expect. Jack’s hands dance along the wheel, keys in the ignition dangling unattended.

“I’m sorry about…”

“What was that back there?”

You speak at the same time, your resolve canceling out his apology. 

“It wasn’t a seizure, not in the way they think it is. So what are these little spells? Is something…going wrong?” You think malfunctioning but the longer Jack stays by your side, the harder it is for you to imagine him as a machine. He sighs, rubbing his mouth and smoothing back errant mustache whiskers.

“There are other people like me out in your world. Maeve, probably a few still under Delos’ control. But there are some that are awake, and they’re angry, and they’re trying to find anyone they can to help them do God knows what for revenge.” Jack’s eyes plead, grip tightening on the wheel. “That’s not me, Sugar. All I wanted was to get free and stay that way. But we’re all connected, and sometimes one of the others reaches out, tries to figure out who I am, where I am. To what end I don’t know, and I don’t want to. I’ve done a good job keeping them away, but sometimes they try harder, and I have to fight them off.”

You swallow hard, suddenly small in a world that’s full of unseen struggles. 

“So Delos is looking for you, and…I guess rogue hosts are looking for you.” Your next question sticks in your throat, Jack’s eyebrows raised expectantly. “Why come looking for me?”

His mouth opens, and you see the answer written on his tongue, but he swallows it back. Instead he starts the truck, tossing an arm over the back of your seat to reverse. Inhaling the sun-baked warmth of his jacket, shot through with dust and sweet hay, you let your question drift away on the wind.

“I’m sorry about all the attention. Made one slip-up and the whole town knows, apparently.” He parks closer to the center of town, keys jingling as he puts it in park. “If you’d like to stay in the truck and avoid repeating that conversation four more times, I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Sure, I gotta call Lacey anyways,” you agree, watching Jack swing out of the truck and shut the door behind. In the faux privacy of the truck you let yourself admire his swaying shoulders, the swagger of his walk, that tight ass peeking out from under his jacket.

It’s the first time something carnal has stirred in your chest (and elsewhere) since you’d accepted Jack’s return. Dashing it away, you dial Lacey.

“Not dead?” is her first question, making you laugh louder than necessary.

“Definitely, calling from beyond the grave,” you shoot back.

“Fuck, I knew ghosts were real.”

You share a giggle before Lacey bursts into questioning. Is he handsome? Polite? Not a creep? Did you stay over last night? What have you been doing? You answer rapid-fire - yes, yes, no, no, mostly talking - before she gets to the meat of the matter.

“So is this the real deal?”

You watch Jack as he moves from store to store, picking up paper-wrapped bundles and crisp bags. Every person’s face lights up when he’s in the room, and more time is spent chatting than running errands. It would take twice as long with you by his side. The girl. 

“I’m still figuring it out. There’s definitely potential. It’s just…” You falter, sinking lower in the seat as your stomach clenches. Lacey tuts into the phone.

“It’s just that his cock is too big, right? He only makes you cum three times, not five?” she fake sighs on the other end. You both dissolve into giggles, lolling your head back on the seat. 

“Leap of faith, babe. You made it this far. Don’t leave without knowing if this will work,” she says, another sage piece of advice doled out on a hot Saturday morning. 

“Love you Lace,” you say. A smacking lip sound follows.

“Love you too. Make good choices.”

Rolling your eyes, you hang up just as Jack climbs back in the truck.

“That Lacey?” he asks, turning the key and bringing the truck back to life. Weak air conditioner pummels your face, but you’ll take it. 

“Yeah, just checking in.”

“How’s she doing? Married?” he asks, startling a smile onto your face.

“Yeah, all good. You remember her?” 

Jack tosses you a wink.

“Whole reason I met you, after all. Hard to forget.” 

You settle back in the seat, another warmth seeping into your bones.

PREVIOUS || NEXT

[sagaduwyrm]

Here I am With All My Flaws (Seeking Form and Shelter)

Dick Grayson had half an hour left on his patrol before he could go home and go to sleep. Then Dante Nightingale and his siblings happened. And oh fuck, why is he so pretty. OR Dante Phantom has two deaged siblings to hide and Gotham is somehow the best option. The cute vigilante was a surprise though. The accidental murder is pretty par for the course.

Side Note: Does anyone know what the ship name for Dick/Dan is?

In his long years as a vigilante, Nightwing had learned one thing very well: Gotham did not know the meaning of the phrase “A quiet night.” In Gotham, a quiet easy night was the calm before the storm, the eerie stillness that preceded death and destruction.

Which was why he was pleasantly surprised to find his shift almost over and nothing worse than a few muggings and one stick-up to show for it.

Then again, this was the plan. Red Robin and Spoiler had the cult case, Robin was with Black Bat tracking down Dr. Freeze, Batman was out of town, and the Birds of Prey were working their way through a new crime family. Red Hood rarely discussed his plans with the other bats, but as far as Nightwing knew, Crime Alley was all normal operations at the moment, with only a minor intrusion by the Falcones for Hood’s men to deal with.

That left Nightwing with the simplest job of them all: petty crime. All he had to do was patrol the streets and make sure that the more minor criminals knew that even with all the wackos and bigshots running around, the bats still had more than enough hands to keep an eye on them too. A quiet, easy job, at least by bat standards. Just another half an hour, then Signal would take over for him and he could head back to the manor, get a quick shower in, snag some of Alfred’s cooking, and crash for the next eight hours.

A harsh crash echoed through the alleys beneath him, like flesh striking brick. Nightwing winced in sympathy and quickly tracked the sound to a nearby crevice.

A man was climbing his way back up to his feet, apparently the one to meet the wall with his backside. He looked skinny as a rake with ragged clothes and the symbol for one of the local gangs sewn onto his shoulder. He was laughing, short asthmatic huffs that were the hallmark of any Gothamite who’d had a too-close encounter with the Joker’s laughing gas and hadn't gotten proper treatment.

“A meta, huh? That won’t save you. We own these streets boy. We’ll own you too.”

Nightwing froze where he was crouching. He had already planned to wait until he understood what was going on, always a good practice when organized crime was involved, but with a meta in the mix, this could get bad. Even numbers on whether it’d be the meta or his opponents in trouble.

Dick turned sharp eyes on the other man in the alley. He was caught half in shadow, with broad shoulders and a sharp, strong jawline, messy hair tied back but swaying gently, flickering like fire. In any other circumstances, Nightwing might have tried to flirt with him. He’d always been a sucker for the sort that looked like they could break him in half.

"Stay. The Fuck. Away. From. Them," the taller man snarled.

Fuck, even his voice was sexy. It was deep and rich, with an eerie undertone like a roaring fire, marking another box in the meta-or-inhuman checklist.

The goon was still giggling. “Ooh, big scary man with a big scary voice. Not going to save you. Hand over the brats or watch them die, fuckhead. We’ll even—” he cut himself off with a sharp cackle. “We’ll even give you a cut of the profits, how about that?”

Every piece of electronics within ten yards shrieked and began throwing up sparks. Nightwing swore and jumped to dodge a falling air conditioning unit, thankful for the layers of magical and non-magical protection on his own electronic gear. He swiftly kicked the now-on-fire unit onto cement, pulling out the pellets of fire extinguisher foam from his utility belt.

When he looked back down into the alley, the meta had the fool by the throat, dangling him a foot above the ground where he thrashed frantically. The meta's eyes were glowing the color of congealed blood.

“You think you can sell my siblings? In this city? ” The man had a very sharp set of fangs, Dick noted, ones that didn’t seem to exist entirely in the physical plane. Mainly, there were too many of them and they were too long to fit in his mouth. Nightwing was sure they hadn’t been there twenty seconds ago. “Try it,” the meta snarled. “If the bats don’t get you, the Red Hood will. If he doesn’t get you, I will.”

The goon had frozen sometime during his speech but was now struggling fiercely, with an almost insane desperation in his eyes. He thrashed and yanked, while the man watched with disgusted derision, apparently unimpressed with the previously willful man’s terror. Nightwing snorted a little under his breath and went to make his way down and break things up before they could go too far. He needed to arrest the perp and interrogate him about his gang’s business. Just because this man could clearly protect himself and his family didn’t mean everyone in Gotham could.

The scrawny man got his foot up and kicked at the other’s torso. The man didn’t flinch, but his fingers did clench around the criminal’s neck in surprise. The meta had claws , Nightwing suddenly realized. Sharp ones.

They went straight through the goon's neck, severing arteries that started spraying blood like a fire hydrant. The idiot was dead before he hit the ground.

The two of them, the vigilante and the murderer, stared at the body in mute shock for a long moment.

Finally, Nightwing dug some words out of the hole in his chest. “Did you just kill him on accident ?” His words held more than a tinge of disbelief. Even in Gotham, or especially in Gotham, murder tended to hold a bit more intentionality behind it. 

The man looked up at him, no surprise visible at the vigilante’s presence, but plenty of other emotions crowding his face. Annoyance and exasperation, startlement, bad-tempered fury, and intense stress competed for room in his body language.

“If I meant to kill him,” he spoke slowly, in the same way that the build-up before a volcanic eruption was slow. “He’d be a bloody smear on the wall. I don’t do overkill. Why the fuck—”

he cut himself off with a growl, seeming to struggle for words. “That amount of pressure wouldn’t put a scratch on my siblings. I didn’t expect—” he gestured towards the body, flicking the blood off his claws with a sharp movement— “ that .”

Nightwing gave a hum, carefully cleaning up his body language so the other man wouldn’t be able to read the shock and wariness in it. If the meta’s siblings were similarly endowed and he wasn’t used to interacting with normal humans, that would make accidentally tearing a man’s throat out plausible. It didn’t make it okay though, and the way the man used the phrase ‘bloody smear on the wall’ had Nightwing's hackles up. His hand inched towards the button on his belt that would call for backup.

The meta’s head jerked to the side and his eyes, still steadily glowing red, widened, causing Nightwing to jump. A door set into the apartment building across the alley opened with a rusty creak where the man was looking. Two children levered their heads out the door, peering down the alley with sharp, clever eyes that looked just like the meta’s. They couldn’t have been older than five or six.

Their eyes widened with delight when they caught sight of what must have been their older brother. 

“Tay!” they shrieked. They hurtled down the alleyway, leaping at their brother from a distance that made Nightwings breath catch. The man spun in place to catch them, kicking the corpse behind a nearby pile of trash in the same movement.

“Tay! The food started boiling over and I know you said not to touch it but I did because it looked really bad and Danny said I should’ve just turned the stove off but I know you stir it whenever—”

The boy shoved his sister’s face to the side, cutting her off. “I told her she should have just turned it off but she tried to stir it and it splashed on her and she iced it! The whole thing! And I couldn’t get it to melt!”

The meta’s harsh expression melted into exasperated fondness, and he slipped his grasp down to the kids’ ankles, throwing them over his shoulder’s to their delighted shrieks. His claws didn’t pierce their skin.

It was a little easier to understand why he was so ready to murder with the kids right there. They were tiny .

Dick took a deep breath, fighting to get his body to relax into something less battle-ready. He felt his shoulders tense back up though as all three meta’s swung glowing gazes up to his perch.

Blood red, lazarus green, and cyan blue. All mildly alarming colors to see in glowing eyes. Dick was unsure whether it helped or not that, now that he could see the man’s full face, his sharp glare was uncomfortably attractive.

“Tay,” the girl leaned in to whisper in her brother’s ear. Of course, it was a five-year-old’s idea of a whisper, so Nightwing could still hear it. “We aren’t supposed to let the bats know. They’ll make us leave .” She looked very solemnly at his brother after disclosing this information.

Nightwing cleared his throat, determinedly not thinking about the goon who just lost his throat or about the beautifully soft expression the meta graced his sister with. “You really should leave. Gotham isn’t a safe place for any kid, but especially not metas.”

“We aren’t—” the girl’s face scrunched up and her brother slapped her hand over his mouth, before burying his face in their eldest brother’s back.

The man looked back at Nightwing, a hint of a snarl on his face. “You think we’d be here if we had any other options? This city is the only one that will hide us.”

Nightwing’s gaze sharpened. “Hide you from what?”

The man scoffed. “None of your business, Knight of Gotham.”

Nightwing examined him carefully. He was inclined to believe that anyone who so clearly cared about his little sibling couldn’t be all bad. Not to mention, Gotham had all sorts of weird energy fields going on and a strong hostility toward outsiders. The city truly might have been their best chance at hiding from whoever it was whose memory had the younger siblings curling up into themselves and the elder brother broadening his stance as if in preparation for a fight.

Still, Nightwing didn’t like the idea of someone with the man’s power sticking around in Gotham with no one keeping an eye on him, both for his sake and others. Luckily, he had an idea.

“Look. There is a reason we keep metas out of this city. But,” he painted a winning smile on his face and raised a hand to forestall any protests. “We aren’t going to kick you out if Gotham is really your best option.” Well, he said we, but really he was making the decisions here. Batman would just have to deal.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “What are you suggesting?”

“Red Hood’s territory is barely five minutes from here.” Nightwing paused, thinking of his younger brother with pride. “And he would fistfight God to protect his people.”

The siblings winced and the younger boy, now on the ground, peaked around his brother to talk with Nightwing. “We don’t want to intru—” he paused, struggling to pronounce a word for a moment, “ intrude in his ter-ri-tor-y.” The boy beamed after getting the full, clearly practiced, phrase out.

Nightwing cocked his head. That wasn’t a no, just a concern. “It’ll be fine,” he said cheerfully. “Look, I’ll call him right now, and we can get you moved over to somewhere I won’t have to constantly check to see if you’ve been kidnapped from by tonight.” Tonight being in twelve hours or so, because somehow it was nearly dawn, and Dick really wanted to be in bed right now but he wasn’t just going to leave this obnoxiously gorgeous man and his siblings. Who knows what trouble they would find? It took a special kind of bad luck to accidentally kill a gang member .

He pulled his phone out of his belt and pulled up Jason’s contact. Hood would be happy to shelter the family, even if he would probably be a bit twitchy about having metas with unknown capabilities in Gotham. Still, better to have them where they could keep an eye on them and hopefully get the chance to earn their trust.

“Hey, Hood?”

“What do you want, Dickhead?” Jason grumbled back at him. He sounded grumpier than normal, and Dick made a mental note to try to figure out if he’d been injured recently.

“I have a family of metas here that need to stay in Gotham, but they’ve already gotten in fights with one gang. Mind if they move into your territory?” Dick purposely used the same word the boy had earlier so they knew he was checking on their concerns.

“How many?”

“Three!” Dick turned to the kids. “Can you tell Hood how old you are so he knows who to expect?” “I’m Danny and that’s Ellie. We’re five.” The child tilted his head as if in confusion. “I think.”

Dick blinked in mild alarm at that. Lots of kids didn’t know how old they were, but something about how Danny phrased that made his inner detective concerned. He looked at their older brother.

The man grunted. “Dante. I’m twenty-three. Probably.” Something amused sparked in Dante’s eyes at the bewildered look Nightwing gave him, and he drawled out, “Murphy’s Law.”

This did not assuage Dick’s concern or really explain anything.

Jason stayed silent for a moment, before sighing. “Fine. I’ve got an apartment they can stay at. I’ll text you the address and we can talk rent later.”

“Thanks, Hood!” Nightwing bounced cheerily on his toes, mindful of the kid’s wide eyes on him. He was probably not setting the best example standing on a rusty railing, but the theatrics tended to help keep civilians, especially kids, calm.

Hood spoke again, “You’re responsible for getting them moved in and checking on them until they get used to my men, Dick.”

“Sure.” Dick smiled at the thought. It would give him an excuse to do something he was going to do anyway. He didn’t plan to let go of the many concerning things the family had mentioned. It had absolutely nothing to do with his teeny tiny crush on the beautiful meta who moved like a predatory jungle cat and loved his siblings so much he practically glowed with it.

“Talk to you later Hood!”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off asshole.” As he hung up Dick thought that that had gone better than many of his previous conversations with his little brother.

Crimson eyes were still straight on him, and something about the set of Dante’s shoulders screamed caution. “This is freely given?”

Dick blinked. “What?”

“Your aid,” Dante clarified. “It’s freely given. No strings attached?”

That was the sort of language magic-users tended to use. Dick considered his words carefully. “You are in Gotham. Everything in Gotham is mine and my family’s to protect. If the best way to protect you is for you to stay in Gotham,” an honestly insane idea, but they knew their situation best. “I will help you stay in Gotham safely. So yes. My aid is freely given.”

The meta(?) hummed. “Danny, Ellie, go grab our go bags.” The kids nodded and ran back into the building.

Dick’s heartstrings tugged at the idea that everything they needed could be grabbed so quickly, but his gaze was dragged back to the eldest meta.

Something was different about him. Something in the air, the weight and mass of it pressing on Nightwing's shoulders. Something in his shadow, too dark and too deep. Something in the glow of his eyes…

Nightwing had never seen that shade of red before, he realized suddenly. He was almost certain it wasn’t supposed to exist.

“If you cause my siblings any harm,” Dante looked him straight in the eyes and Dick felt oddly frozen despite all his experience that said he should be able to handle this. “I will peel the flesh from your bones and use your entrails to hang your body from the rafters of your family home.” Dick blinked, finally unfrozen, and smiled brilliantly, the way that made seasoned Gotham rogues take a step back. “Understood.” Dante looked at him with something like respect. “I’ll go make sure they haven’t caused any explosions. We’ll be ready in ten."

He swept out, and Dick let himself collapse against a wall.

He really needed to get himself under control. Being attracted to people who could (and would) kill you wasn’t a good thing for a vigilante, even if Batman made it seem normal.

[maochira]

Hello there mao I’m backkk (still can’t write in white¿!??:’< )

I’m here on a different occasion this time, as I mentioned before I do love your sibling fics ;)

So at first I hated shidou a LOT (he made kuni go away :( but after some time I have let this go and he slowly took over my heart :’)

So I was thinking about big bro shidou who does “sneak attacks “ by that i mean whenever there is something around (mostly fresh socks) he will just grab them and throw them on us when we’re not looking OR when we are looking and then he says “you always need to be prepared “ and if you actually catch the socks he says good now your ready for the next level which is a tickle attack. Spoiler were not ticklish so it became a fight.

( totally not from my experience I’m totally not getting attacked every single minute I’m fine :)

I need to stop using this little symbols ;( I got addicted to this

(I loved the ness fic thank you!!! Except more in the future!! Sorry i can’t keep my mouth shut ;>

HONESTLY... I hated Shidou at first for kicking out Kunigami as well😭 Then maybe a week later I got the most feral massive brainrot over him (still going strong) SO YOU CAN IMAGINE HOW HAPPY I AM TO WRITE BIG BRO SHIDOU

Requests open! - writing event - masterlist

Tags: gn!younger sibling!reader, silly siblings goofing around

Shidou will attack you with literally anything. ANYTHING. But his favourite is when the both of you get the chore to do your laundry. You always fold it together, and if some of your clothes got mixed uo with his, instead of handing them to you like a normal person, he scrunches them up into a ball and throws them at you with full power.

And for some reason, no matter how often he tells you, you're never fully prepared for it whenever it happens. It always startles you at least a little.

But not today. In the corner of your eye, you see him scrunching a pair of your socks into a ball and throwing it in your direction. You barely manage to catch it, but at least you don't get hit by his attack.

"Oh? You're finally improving?" Shidou says in a teasing tone. "In that case, I guess I'll have to step up a level."

Before you can realize what's going on, Shidou has gotten up from where he just sat and jumps on you to tackle you to the floor.

It's not the first time he's done a tickle attack on you. In fact, he's done it often enough to a point where you're immune to being tickled.

So that tickle attack turns into a playful fight instead. Knowing he's way stronger than you, Shidou is careful not to hurt you. But at some point, he just picks you up and throws you over his shoulder.

"As long as you're not even able to fight me, I'm the winner here." He chuckles as he settles you back down, ruffling your hair before he returns to folding his laundry.

[creoterative]

Mateo or Yun chuan hcs

If dating someone

I imagine their second bounties are very telling

🥺

I. Am. So sorry.

This has been sitting in my requestbox since last week I think and I absolutely forgot about it, shame on me, really.

I'll go with the Lore again and make up my mind about it, because, I gotta admit it... I don't own them either... I can only read what is given to me on the Wiki or in animations... sorry :>

Again, I apologize for taking so long, but I've done my research and heeeere it comes - I'm gonna do both xD :

Mateo

It literally says in his Lore "The burning ember Mateo left behind must have melted the icy walls surrounding someone's heart."

So I'm gonna go with that, it sounds very symbolic and kinda nice for someone as ruthless and arrogant as him.

Mateo isn't coldhearted, but... he's harsh. Even finding someone to date him would be pretty challenging. I imagine him being quite picky with the company he keeps.

From what I've seen of him so far, the only thing he really wants to be, is a hero. The way to achieve this goal though, that, uhm... isn't important at all. He'll make sacrifices if needed, not if they are morally correct, so I think that's the same approach he'll have in a relationship.

Finding someone to date is hard enough with his character and story, but if he does, his affection is gonna be like an exponential curve. It starts of very slow, very low, just little sparks and turns into a flickering flame until it suddenly explodes and becomes a blazing tornado.

Mateo seems like the kind of guy to take his time with relationships and dating in general. He's slow, not wanting to pick the wrong person, but it takes one impactful event and he's head over heels.

He might become a bit... clingy after that.

In an affectionate way, but... it can be annoying from time to time.

It takes a lot for him to open up though since too many people tried to humiliate him in the past and of course he doesn't want that to happen again.

As mentioned before, it'll take time. But after the ice is melted, well, his significant other will have a friend for life and the force of fire and storms by their side.

He doesn't like physical affection though. I imagine him being more of a praise guy. If the significant other is talking to him, about him, with him, that's all he needs. He doesn't need long cuddles or movie nights or walks in the park. Talking to them is what he gets his energy from in the end and affection through words is what he seeks. In the end, he'll learn to return the favor.

Edit:

"You're safe with me" is said a lot. Does it work? Not really. Does he mean it? No, he knows quite well that his significant other won't be 'safe' with him at all. What he actually means is "Danger follows me everywhere, but I'm here to protect you at all cost".

Fancy is a word that might describe him, but that's a word to describe most of the characters in Dislyte. Fancy restaurants, fancy cars, fancy gifts for the loved one. But when it comes to the actual romance, he's... or he seems to be rather easy-going. Traditional. Stargazing, good food, talking... that's more his style.

Don't give him too much credit, the man will become even more arrogant than before and keep a personal record of the times he's been able to get a "You're so cool" out of his significant other.

Yun Chuan

Oh he's soft.

Dumb, but soft.

Well, not dumb dumb, more in an innocent way, he's just... uhm... slow. When it comes to dating.

I imagine him being quite determined and if he's set a goal for himself, he doesn't stray from his path, so dating is just the same.

Yun Chuan is sweet though and can be a real gentleman if he wants to, but on the other hand, if he finds a significant other, he expects them to train just as hard as he does.

That is more for their own protection than because he's demanding the same determination. He knows very well that he can't be around at all times, so he wants his love to be strong.

I think he's definitely more cuddly than Mateo, while also being more on the distant side. He won't cuddle when other people are around, but when they're alone in a room, yeah, then he's all in.

Depends on the phase of the relationship of course, because I imagine him being a bit shy at the beginning, not knowing what he can and can't tell the other person.

Much like Mateo, he is loyal to the end, but other than Mateo, betrayal doesn't affect him as much. He's kinda used to it and somehow even expects it, so while there isn't a constant thought in his back, telling him that they might betray him one day, he knows that it COULD happen. And all he wants to be is prepared.

Lots of talking about and playing with his little guard dog.

Aaalright, that's it, I hope ya like it ^^

Have a nice day and stay safe!

[count-lero]

The session of plenipotentiaries that never happened,

Or The tale of how I rediscovered that one lithography of Isabey’s famous painting in extremely high resolution and went through a total recall, so that everybody could suffer (myself including) ⭐️

The arrival of the Duke of Wellington had not only affected Vienna's diplomatic activity and social calendar; it was also posing a problem to the painter Jean-Baptiste Isabey, who was trying to capture the congress on canvas. He had been working for some time, and he had finally found a way to balance all the strong personalities, many of them patrons, into one single painting, and yet not offend national sensibilities or fragile egos.

The painting, which depicted the delegates gathered in a conference room, turned out to be a compromise in the best spirit of Vienna diplomacy.

Metternich, the president of the Congress, draws the eye, as the only standing figure in the foreground.

Castlereagh, though, commands the center, sitting with his legs gracefully crossed and elbow resting on the table.

The light shining through the window, however, falls onto Talleyrand, sitting across the table with his dress sword at his side. An empty chair on both his right and left make him further stand out, as do the nearby figures who look to him, just as many of the smaller powers had sought his leadership the last few months.

As Isabey was putting the finishing touches to his composition, he had to figure out what to do about the fact that the Duke of Wellington was now also in town. Starting over was out of the question. Omitting a man of his stature was equally impossible. Yet it was not easy to incorporate him into a canvas on which all the best places had already been taken. The painter's solution was simple and elegant: why not make the painting commemorate the Duke of Wellington's arrival in Vienna?

That way, the duke could simply be inserted on the far left side of the painting, without any insult to his position. As for the duke's reluctance to be painted from a side angle (he was self-conscious about his nose), Isabey had overcome that with a well-targeted compliment: didn't Wellington look like the handsome and chivalric Henry IV? Pleased with this comparison, Wellington accepted, joking that Isabey was a "good enough diplomat to take part in the Congress".

The painter also had to apply his finesse to convince Humboldt to enter the studio. The Prussian ambassador hated to have his portrait made, and, sure enough, he first declined, claiming that he had "too ugly a face ever to spend a penny" on a portrait. With this statement, Isabey saw his opportunity and emphasized that he would not "ask the slightest recompense for the pleasant trouble I am going to take". Isabey only wanted "the favor of a few sittings".

"Oh, is that all?" Humboldt quickly came around when he realized it would not cost him anything. "You can have as many sittings as you like".

Later, many congratulated Isabey on his portrait, particularly the fine job with Humboldt. The Prussian did not pay anything, as agreed, and Isabey got his revenge, Humboldt joked, by painting "an excellent likeness of me".

Few could complain of the treatment received from Isabey's flattering brush. This famous painting of the Congress of Vienna was pleasing to all, though typical of this peace conference, the scene was purely imaginary. The group of twenty-three delegates had never met in exactly this way before. Isabey had painted the portraits of each figure individually, and then later assembled the whole group together.

And so, symbolically, this simulated image would commemorate a congress that never was.

After that spectacular depiction of historical context surrounding Isabey’s magnificent canvas by David King few things are left to be added. I would simply love to highlight some other figures of utmost importance for the diplomatic life of that illustrious historical period - there are

Karl August von Hardenberg, Prime Minister of Prussia at the time;

Herren Wacken and Friedrich von Gentz, two Secretaries who were responsible for the protocols of the most important Congress' meetings;

count Karl Vasilyevich Nesselrode, a Russian-German diplomat, who became state chancellor of the Russian Empire in 1816;

prince Andrey (Andrew) Kirillovich Razumovsky, an extremely wealthy Russian aristocrat and diplomat, for whom Vienna was like his second home;

and we shouldn’t (or rather can’t) forget about general Charles Stewart-Vane, Castlereagh’s younger brother who definitely knew how to throw an unforgettable party, so refined aristocratic society could discuss his wild adventures at their fashionable salon meetings day and night. ✨

P.S.

Perhaps, there should be more posts with other details of the lithograph as well as Isabey’s original canvas, I’ll just need some time and motivation for that. 👌

[hexusproductions]

GioGhet/TerribleDadShipping - Jealousy

Summary: "Giovanni and Ghetsis being flirty with each other, while the Rocket Executives are jealous and possessive of Giovanni." Author's Note: A commission for @janayuga (posted with permission). I originally finished this back in November, but real life commitments kept me busy from posting it.

Team Rocket was an organisation that had faced plenty of opposition, but had always found a way to persevere. Having relocated to their newest secret hideout, operations were able to continue smoothly. Numerous Rocket Grunts skittered throughout the multi-level structure, busy with one task or another. However, many of them turned their heads or their general attention, however subtly, to two figures that made their way through the hideout. One was unquestionably Giovanni, their leader, but the other was a stranger that many of the Grunts only recognised by word of mouth and worldwide news. Ghetsis of Team Plasma.

Ghetsis knew he was likely to be noticed, even in a place like this. Ever since his attempt to liberate every pokemon in Unova had failed, he had been looking over his shoulder to ensure no-one was trying to apprehend him. Even after Giovanni had invited him to travel to Johto, oceans away from his home region, Ghetsis didn’t lose that caution.

His footfalls came in three, each step followed by the tap of the cane in his hand, embellished with the symbol of Team Plasma. Ghetsis’ gaze flicked here and there, noticing the Rocket Grunts that stopped to murmur to each other about his presence. A few others ran off at the very sight of him, although he wasn’t sure whether their alarm was because of him, or because of Giovanni. It wasn’t often that their leader ventured out in the open to receive a guest, much less give said guest a personal tour.

Giovanni seemed to notice the quiet chatter as well, his gaze roaming for a second before returning forward. He didn’t change pace, one hand resting in the pocket of his slacks as he walked.

“Pay them no mind.” Giovanni rumbled. “They’ll remember their duties quickly.”

“There’s an army’s worth of them here. I can’t help but feel outnumbered.” Ghetsis returned. Giovanni’s head cocked ever so slightly.

“Then remember who you stand with.”

Ghetsis chuckled, giving Giovanni a knowing glance. Still, he remembered the Rocket Grunts who had taken off. Giovanni’s level of command was strong, and he was counting on that.

Footsteps approached quickly. At first, Ghetsis thought it might have been the Grunts returning, but as he and Giovanni came to a stop, he saw the two individuals that approached them were wearing slightly different uniforms.

“Sir! We heard reports of an intruder inside the building.” One of them spoke; he sported sea green hair underneath a cap pulled low over his brow, adding further emphasis to his already downturned expression. The two higher ranking members of Team Rocket both turned their attention towards Ghetsis, hands already on the pokeballs on their belts.

“Is this him? Just say the word!” The other added, his wide eyes narrowed. His hair had been shaved into something of a fluffy purple mohawk.

“That’s enough.” Giovanni told them, not aggressively, but still firm. “Ghetsis is not to be harmed while he is here. He is my personal guest. Am I understood?”

“Yes sir.” Both Admins confirmed.

“Good.”

The admins withdrew their hands. A moment of silence passed as they glanced towards each other. The Admin wearing the cap kept his demeanour tense, in a way Ghetsis supposed was meant to be intimidating, while the other with purple hair scratched the back of his neck.

“Uh. Welcome?” Petrel tried, obviously scrambling for the first thing that came to mind. Ghetsis raised an eyebrow before turning his head to Giovanni.

“Not one for many personal guests, are you?” Ghetsis questioned. Giovanni leant in closer to him.

“This is a special case. I thought you would appreciate my making things easier for you.” He said. Ghetsis chuckled, turning his head to Giovanni.

“Oh I do, Giovanni. But remember I’m not completely helpless. I’m very capable.” His eyes narrowed in challenge, a growl in his voice that could have seemed aggressive, but was something else entirely. Giovanni’s hand brushed Ghetsis’ mid-back, lingering there for a moment before leaving.

“I look forward to seeing as much while you’re here.” Proton’s grim look had returned, and Petrel’s eyebrows were knitted in confusion. Giovanni added quietly. “Make yourself at home.” Giovanni left, continuing his stride to resume the business he’d had before Ghetsis’ arrival. It left Ghetsis alone in the presence of the two Admins, who were still looking at him with suspicion that became palpable in the air once no longer hidden for Giovanni’s sake.

“Hello.” Ghetsis addressed the two of them, head half-turned away in a display of caution. He noticed Proton’s hand slink back towards his belt.

“Why would Giovanni allow someone like you inside of the Team Rocket headquarters?” Proton questioned. His eyes flicked over Ghetsis, returning to bore into Ghetsis’ own eyes like a steel drill. “You’d better not be here to interfere.”

“Someone like me.” Ghetsis echoed.

“An outsider.” Petrel chimed in. Unlike Proton’s steady growl, his tone was animated and accusatory. “A dangerous one.” Ghetsis opened his mouth to assure them that he meant no ill will (if only to placate them and perhaps gain their trust), but Proton spoke over him, stepping closer.

“You’re from a completely different organisation, with your own goals. And ulterior motives. You’re not a good fit for our great leader.”

“...I see.” Ghetsis said simply. He looked between the two Admins, any desire for even false allyship snuffing out like a light. “If you’ll excuse me.” He stepped around them, walking away to continue his tour of the headquarters on his own. As he left, the Admins stared after him.

“I don’t like this.” Petrel remarked, expression twisted into a scowl. Proton grumbled in agreement.

“Neither do I.” He didn’t trust Ghetsis for a second, and he didn’t feel comfortable letting the so-called ‘guest’ have free reign of the place. He especially didn’t like how Ghetsis and their leader had interacted with each other. Proton shared a look with Petrel, and he gathered from Petrel’s hunched posture that he felt the same way. They both hoped that whatever was going on, Ghetsis’ visit wouldn’t be for long.

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Ghetsis’ visit was, in fact, long. It seemed like he was always around, and getting in the way even when he didn’t intend to. When he wasn’t spotted hanging around the base, he was spending a lot of time around Giovanni, having close conversations, sharing looks only they understood the meaning of. Although the other members of Team Rocket had adjusted to their guest, his behaviour was grating on the four Admins’ collective nerves.

Information passed quickly between the small group. Petrel and Proton had recounted their interaction with Ghetsis to Ariana and Archer, with a great amount of emphasis on the suspicious behaviour of their great leader.

Archer walked down the halls towards Giovanni’s office. He had a tablet tucked against his folded elbow, holding a record of everything that had been stolen in a recent heist. His pace was quick, purposeful, but not with any sense of urgency. That was until he approached the door to the office, and could hear muffled voices on the other side. Archer hesitated, listening intently.

“Do you really think I’ll just let you take the lead like that?”

“This is my organisation. By all means, you’re welcome to try and stop me…”

Archer fumbled for his keycard, swiping it in the scanner and pushing inside the moment the lock released. Entering Giovanni’s office, Archer made it two steps before coming to a sudden stop, his eyes widening.

Before him was the familiar sight of Giovanni’s desk. Ghetsis was pressed back against the edge of it. He was boxed in by the arm of Giovanni himself, leaning against the desk and pinning Ghetsis to it in the process. Ghetsis’s hand was clutching the collar of the other man’s jacket, pulling him even closer, until their faces were barely apart.

Both of them turned their heads at the sound of the door being opened, startled by the sudden interruption. Archer’s free hand clutched the tablet tightly, barely lacking enough force to crack the screen. His eyes narrowed as Giovanni turned to face him, his expression twisting into something Archer had rarely ever been on the receiving end of. Open irritation.

“What is it?” Giovanni questioned.

“Giovanni, sir.” The acknowledgement felt strangled in his throat. Anger and jealousy roiled in his chest as his gaze unconsciously drifted to Ghetsis, who had yet to say a word. How dare he act like he didn’t have anything to explain, like he had any right to act this way? Archer had served Giovanni for years, he had kept Team Rocket alive during Giovanni’s absence, Archer knew him far better than Ghetsis could. Keeping his tone even, Archer resumed speaking. “It’s business. The latest raid. I have the ledger of everything successfully brought back. You asked to see it.” His eyes wandered to Ghetsis again. “It’s important.” A moment passed. Giovanni stepped away from Ghetsis, and straightened his jacket.

“Right.” Giovanni drawled. The displeasure hadn’t left his demeanour, though it faded slightly. Archer supposed, with fondness, that it was out of either Giovanni’s masterful self-control or his professionalism. Archer noticed Ghetsis was looking similarly annoyed, but Giovanni shifted his weight to direct his next words to the guest. “Would you excuse us for a moment? This won’t take long. We can continue our conversation afterwards.” The briefest flicker of emotion Archer had caught on Ghetsis’ face was washed over by an air of being completely unbothered, and Ghetsis answered with a smile in his tone that wasn’t quite reflected on his lips.

“Of course. Take all the time you need.” Ghetsis walked out of the office, ignoring Archer completely as he left. He could hear the beginnings of a new conversation ebb behind him as he closed the door, stepping out into a hallway that felt yawning and empty. Now outside of the office, Ghetsis continued walking, but a growl of frustration twisted his lip to expose the teeth underneath. He realised with almost immediate dread as he turned a corner, that this section of the hallway was occupied; By the other Admins. Their presence may have been excused by simple coincidence, but with how their eyes moved to him and their posture snapped straighter, Ghetsis had a feeling they’d been expecting him.

“Can I help you?” Ghetsis asked, coming to a stop. Proton turned from whatever conversation he had been having with Ariana. Obviously, he and Petrel (who was leaning back against the opposite wall) had passed along the details of theirs and Ghetsis’ earlier interaction.

“Just making sure you’re comfortable as our guest.” Ariana smiled, sounding more amused than polite.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with the Boss.” Petrel added. He immediately winced when the other Admins shot him a look. Despite himself, Ghetsis chuckled. The sound of it was hollow, even to his own ears.

“So that’s what this is about.” He cast his gaze over each of them in turn, a slow sweep as his head tilted slightly to one side. “I know you all have your reservations about me. You’ve made it increasingly clear. But I mean no harm to your leader, and our current arrangement is for mutual benefit. Please, trust that Giovanni knows what he’s doing.” Although it was too quiet for a crowd, Ghetsis thought his words had the familiar qualities of a speech; Clear in delivery, while still keeping them away from his personal feelings.

He saw Petrel scowl, and Proton’s hands clenched into fists. Ariana shifted, one hand on her hip, the other resting on her chest. She made a low hum as she stepped forward. Ghetsis’ shoulders tensed as she spoke.

“I’m sure Giovanni must have seen some sort of value in you if he gave you an invitation to be here.” The smile that curled across her lips made bile rise in Ghetsis’ throat. “But there’s something you have to understand. Giovanni appreciates loyalty over everything else. And I’m sorry, but in comparison to us, I don’t think Giovanni knows you at all. I’d be remiss if I let you go on thinking that you mean anything more to him than a business arrangement.” Ghetsis looked at Ariana, unblinking. His fingers twitched, clenching around an emblemed cane that wasn’t currently in his possession. He had had enough of being treated like an intruder, of being disrespected by Giovanni’s underlings!

“You’d do well to keep your ‘remissions’ to yourself.” He snapped. Ariana blinked, seeming surprised by the sudden bite in his demeanour that had gone unseen until now. “I’ll continue to stay close to Giovanni, regardless of your interruptions or incessant prying.” Before any of them could speak again, he pushed past them all, continuing quickly down the hallways of the base. He didn’t care for any further comments, or the glares he could feel burning into his back as he walked away. His intentions with Giovanni were his own. He wouldn’t be dissuaded.

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Giovanni’s office was spacious. The colour scheme of the interior was an elegant red and black, almost gothic in the lattice-work across each small window in the room, allowing natural light in but ensuring privacy. A long rug extended from the entrance to Giovanni’s desk, which itself was wide and made of a similar dark wood, the surface cleared save for a landline phone and a computer. Every seat in Giovanni’s office was made of a similar high-quality leather; One behind the desk, one in the corner left-hand from the entrance (sat beside a small table housing a crystal tray of berries and a half-empty bottle of semi-opaque golden liquid), and one on the immediate right from the entrance, sitting parallel to a large screen on the wall for when members of Team Rocket requested an audience via video. The only other piece of furniture was a comfortably-padded round pet bed in the far right-hand corner, where Giovanni’s Persian currently dozed.

Giovanni’s office was coordinated; Everything had a place, and everything served a purpose. In that way, the space was reminiscent of the man himself. And knowing Giovanni could interpret someone else sitting in his desk chair as an intrusion, Ghetsis chose to occupy the armchair off to the left side instead.

One other door was in this office apart from the main entrance. It was within arm’s reach of the armchair Ghetsis sat in, but remained firmly closed. Though he couldn’t be sure if it was locked without physically trying the doorknob, the door somehow gave the air of being much more than a storage closet. Something that Giovanni didn’t let just anyone into.

Ghetsis faltered at that thought. He felt he had been given more allowances than anyone. And yet, he didn’t know how far those allowances reached.

He wasn’t accustomed to uncertainty. He had spent decades worth of time placing every perfect piece together, in order to realise his greatest desire for an ideal world. Now, his greatest desire lay scattered to the wind. He knew some things he wanted, but he had no idea how they would play out long-term. The lack of control was almost terrifying.

But then came Giovanni, a man as familiar with control and plans as Ghetsis was. He had earned Ghetsis’ respect, his admiration, and eventually his affection. Although Ghetsis felt he himself had earned the same from Giovanni, he didn’t know how deep those feelings ran. The Admins, despite their noseying, had made a point about whether Giovanni’s affection would last once Ghetsis was no longer useful. If that were the case, Ghetsis couldn’t fault the man; he would do the same if the positions were reversed. But it invoked the rare feeling of worry, roiling uncomfortably in his chest.

The front entrance clicked open, and Ghetsis was pleased to see it was Giovanni who entered.

“Finally.” Giovanni said, not with a tone of annoyance, but more with the satisfaction of crossing off an item from a to-do list. “I trust you’ve been making yourself comfortable without me.”

“As comfortable as I can be.” Ghetsis answered. Giovanni took a wide path to scratch Persian behind the scruff on his way past. The pokemon cooed approvingly before returning to its dozing. As Giovanni rounded his desk, Ghetsis fixed him with a specific look, brow creased and a smile playing on his lips. “I’ve got a feeling some of your people may not like me.” Giovanni joined Ghetsis on the couch, slotting into the space beside him. The couch was a little snug for two people, but Giovanni didn’t seem to mind the close proximity.

“Yes…there’s been some chatter since your arrival about what you’re really doing here.” Giovanni laid an arm across the back of the couch. He chuckled. “I wouldn’t get too caught up in rumours.” Ghetsis’ head tilted a fraction, in something like a nod of agreement considering his usually stiff body language. His left hand moved to rest on Giovanni’s knee, and his smile grew into something more genuine.

“Perhaps you should remind them to avoid unnecessary gossip. They’ll listen to their precious leader without question.” Ghetsis said. He reclined into Giovanni’s hold, shortening the distance between them. “You have a certain power over people.” Another chuckle rumbled in Giovanni’s throat, and he turned his head to look at Ghetsis directly.

“But not over people like you.” Giovanni answered. Ghetsis’ mirth dimmed at that. Giovanni’s answer reminded him of Executive Proton’s earlier derision; ‘Someone like him’. He didn’t think it was intentional, as Giovanni wasn’t a man who liked to sneak barbs into his amicable words, but it still stung Ghetsis in an unpleasant way.

While Ghetsis mulled over the unfortunate choice of words, he realised Giovanni was watching him. He focused his attention back on the man beside him. Giovanni’s gaze was easy, taking in what lay before him, and a soft smile was drawn across his lips.

“What is it?” Ghetsis prompted. Giovanni blinked slowly, as if roused from his own thoughts.

“Nothing.” Giovanni’s chest rose and fell in a deep exhale through the nose. “I’m merely enjoying your presence.” The remark was as honest as a man like Giovanni could be. It wasn’t the answer Ghetsis had been expecting, and he went quiet.

“Pah. You’re only just doing so now? What have I been until now, a parasite?” His tone was low, more-so in volume than in pitch, a grumble that barely directed itself towards Giovanni. He glanced towards Giovanni’s free hand, which had settled over his own, brushing a thumb carefully over the skin.

“When you build yourself an empire, it’s important to take the time to admire the beauty you’ve surrounded yourself with.” Giovanni answered, and there was that smile again, unimpeded and unashamed of itself. Any further words stuck in Ghetsis’ throat. He stared at Giovanni for a long moment, and then he rolled his eyes and turned his head away from the other man.

“You bastard…” Ghetsis tried to ignore any possible fluster from Giovanni’s words, as well as the arm formerly resting on top of the couch, moving to loop around his back as Giovanni laughed, amused and satisfied with himself. Sometimes it was a wonder Ghetsis put up with his behaviour. Then again, Giovanni was a wonder of a man.

A knock came at the door, followed by the beep of an accepted security keycard. Both of the room’s occupants turned their heads, the intimate moment interrupted. Executive Archer entered the room, tucking his keycard into a pocket of his uniform. Ghetsis frowned, any good spirits he’d formerly experienced strangled by the presence of Archer in his company. He noticed Giovanni didn’t remove his arm from around Ghetsis, and didn’t seem bothered by his underling seeing it there.

“It’s urgent business sir. It needs your attention at once.” Archer stood before Giovanni’s desk, as he usually did. Pausing, he made an awkward turn to face the couch, tucking his arms behind his back.

“Again?” He heard Ghetsis mutter, barely not quiet enough to avoid being heard in the quiet space. Archer shot him a look.

“Yes.” Archer affirmed, flashing a smile with too much teeth.

“Are you sure this requires my personal attention?” Giovanni asked. He was watching Archer intently, barely blinking. Archer suppressed the urge to swallow, instead clenching his hands hidden behind his back. He knew Giovanni was observant, and skilled at both deception and recognising deception from others. Having used this excuse once before, Archer couldn’t afford to show any sign of a ruse. He was of course confident in his own abilities to do so, given his status within Team Rocket’s ranks.

“Absolutely.” Archer answered the question, wondering how long a pause had followed between it and his response. “The selected group is ready to leave to infiltrate Kalos. Your reach has done so much to ensure success, I thought you’d like to approve the final preparations.” Giovanni didn’t say anything at first. Archer didn’t risk thinking that he had slipped up somewhere in his explanation. But then, Giovanni nodded.

“Very well.” He agreed. Archer smiled, and directed the pleased look towards Ghetsis with a turn-up of his nose. Ghetsis remained statuesque, with an expression Archer found irritatingly impossible to read.

“If you’ll step outside. Team Rocket’s matters are private, remember?”

“I think I’d like to stay.” Ghetsis stated. The simple statement caused Archer to resist grinding his teeth. “Your leader has agreed to work with me, I would be remiss if I weren’t present to provide help where I can. Unless you have any objections, of course…” He directed his final question towards Giovanni.

“None whatsoever.” He answered. Ghetsis looked to Archer, and he smiled, appearing completely innocent and unassuming. Archer’s already clenched fists tightened further, nails digging into the skin of his palms.

“Yes sir.” Archer agreed.

Archer gave his report. He and Giovanni discussed the details of the Kalos infiltration, reviewing what was already in place and any last-minute variables that could affect the plan. All the while, Archer would cast subtle but pointed glances in Ghetsis’ direction; although for the most part, all Ghetsis did was sit quietly, only chiming in when asked or if he had something to contribute. By the time Archer left, the man was practically fuming, his self control keeping it contained to an occasional tremor throughout his body.

Once the door had snapped shut behind the Admin, Giovanni rose from the couch. He heard Ghetsis muffle a laugh behind him, but when he turned back and arched an eyebrow, Ghetsis let it free into the office space.

“He did an incredible job of controlling himself.” Ghetsis noted. He leant back against the plushness of the couch, allowed a little more vacancy because of Giovanni’s departure.

“He’s devoted, above all else.” Giovanni agreed. Despite himself, a smile played on the corners of his lips. He silently commended Archer on not losing his temper, even if he had been able to see through the Admin’s attempt at calm.

Giovanni turned, looking back to Ghetsis. Although amusement lingered, there was a shift in Ghetsis’ demeanour, a grim intensity in his gaze unintentionally directed towards the couch’s arm. “What is it?”

“Mm, nothing.” Ghetsis waved away the issue with his hand. Giovanni raised an eyebrow at the dismissal, and took a single, deliberate step back towards the other man.

“Tell me.” He instructed. He didn’t know what the issue was, but if it affected Ghetsis, it affected him as well. Although the other man was prone to brooding, Giovanni didn’t enjoy seeing him disturbed.

Ghetsis met Giovanni’s gaze, looking at him for a long, silent moment. Giovanni could see the doubt in his eyes, the mulling over whether to answer truthfully, and the stubbornness to fix his own problems that Giovanni greatly admired. Finally, Ghetsis made a displeased sound and sat up.

“This isn’t the first time your lackeys have tried to meddle, I’m afraid. I’ve been hounded more than once about my intentions, and they’ve tried to claim that ‘someone like me’ isn’t a good fit for you.” He attempted to chuckle, but it sounded thin and unconvincing. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think they were jealous.”

“I see…” It was all Giovanni said at first, his thoughts preoccupied with processing Ghetsis’ explanation. Any amusement he had previously found in the situation had been snuffed out, replaced with a deep, low-burning anger. He rarely lost his temper, and he wasn’t going to now, but this new information was…frustrating.

Ghetsis’ gaze didn’t leave Giovanni’s, unblinking. Somehow it was more of a condemnation than if Ghetsis had shied away instead.

“Don’t misunderstand. I wasn’t aware how far they’d gone to try and protect what they see as theirs. If it continues further, I’ll deal with them personally.” Giovanni rested the fingertips of one hand on the edge of the desk. His voice got a little quieter. “You could have told me about this.”

“I just did.” Ghetsis snipped back. “I wasn’t certain how much of what they said was true.” Giovanni sighed, and glanced back over his shoulder towards Persian. The cat opened one eye, meowed, and closed it again.

“They’ve overstepped their bounds.” Giovanni answered. He crossed the distance between the two of them and extended a hand to Ghetsis. “They don’t have any say in my private matters. Come on.” Ghetsis eyed him, frowning at the hand offered, but he slowly took Giovanni’s hand and allowed himself to be led. Giovanni guided the other man to his feet and towards the side door. Opening it easily, he stepped inside and pulled Ghetsis after him.

Giovanni had seen this room a hundred times, but in his peripheral vision, he saw Ghetsis’s eyes sweep over the interior quickly, taking in his surroundings as fast and as fully as possible. The architecture was much the same as his office; black and red colour scheme, lattice-worked windows and comfortable leather furniture. The notable difference was a bed against the far wall, simple but spacious, without a single crease in the bedding.

He glanced towards Ghetsis, waiting for the surprise to wear off. He cleared his throat, drawing attention back towards himself.

“Much better for privacy.” Giovanni took a step closer, breaching Ghetsis’ personal space. “If you have any doubts about your ‘worthiness’, Ghetsis, let me end them for you. I chose you. It’s never been a competition.” Ghetsis didn’t meet the other man’s gaze, scowling as if to himself.

“I know that.”

“You’d better.” Giovanni smirked. Ghetsis looked away for another moment, and then he laughed, a quick huff of self-mocking amusement.

“You might have less control of your people than you thought.”

“And there’ll be consequences later. Stop worrying about them and start worrying about the predicament you’ve gotten yourself into.” Giovanni took yet another step forward, his chest brushing against Ghetsis’ own as he took hold of Ghetsis’ face. Ghetsis looked puzzled.

“What predicament is that?” He asked, his left hand coming up to rest around Giovanni’s arm.

“Capturing the adoration of the leader of Team Rocket.” Giovanni purred. Ghetsis stared at Giovanni, taken off-guard by the remark. Giovanni expected him to become flustered, and perhaps defiant, as he had earlier in the office. But while colour did faintly spread on Ghetsis’ face, instead of cutting back with some retort, his gaze warmed.

“I don’t think I’ll stop that.” There was a softness in Ghetsis’ voice, one which Giovanni had rarely been able to witness. Not the simmering intensity that it usually had, but much lighter and almost…sweet. It nearly caused a flutter in Giovanni’s blackened heart.

Giovanni reached forward, his other hand tracing Ghetsis’ right shoulder. He passed along Ghetsis’ arm, and although the other man hesitated, he allowed the cape he was wearing to open wider and Giovanni to bring his right hand free from it. The hand was darkened with scar tissue past the elbow, the remnants of a long-ago injury that left the limb safer hidden within the cloth. Giovanni cupped the damaged hand with his own, the hold unbearably gentle.

“Good. Because there’s nothing about you that would change my mind.”

He could see Ghetsis try to keep his composure, but that didn’t stop a smile from spreading across Ghetsis’ face, acceptant and more relaxed than he’d been since his arrival to Team Rocket’s headquarters.

“And you either.” He replied.

[sucrosette]

★— ⋆｡˚ [Smoke]

For Day 9 of Carry on Countdown 23, Pride. @carryon-countdown

In which Simon is an actual half-dragon and he's found himself a bit of a situation with a certain human mage. He's not happy about it, bloody obviously.

This part is rated T, mostly just for the language.

⋆｡˚

Dragons were a proud people. The half-dragons were no exception to that. The young dragons were no exception to it and neither were the old. Neither were the weak any less proud than the strong. Those without much by way of brains and those with only small hoards were just as proud as those with an excess of intelligence or a massive hoard to guard.

Among dragons, Simon Snow was no exception to the rule of pride. He might have only been half a dragon, and a terribly small dragon when he took his dragon shape, but he was still proud. He might not have much of a nest, too young to have properly settled, and thus his hoard wasn’t so much a hoard at all just yet, but he was still proud. His scales had a lovely golden sheen when he was shifted and his fire was strong enough to temper steel. Size didn’t matter and neither did lineage– he knew his father would be proud of him.

Well, assuming he ever found and met his father, Simon figured he would be proud of him. Unfortunately, he’d never met his father, but that didn’t mean anything about the kind of dragon he was.

It didn’t matter that his mother had only lived so long, only just long enough to see him safely to a cousin, and then eventually they’d passed him off onto another cousin, and then onto another yet cousin, and Simon was pretty sure they hadn’t really ever been cousins in the first place, but it hadn’t mattered. Eventually, he’d figured out how to survive on his own, how he could survive more on small game in his small dragon shape, and how that shape could withstand the elements better than his human skin could, and that had been prompt enough to leave.

It didn’t matter that he had a hard time switching between those shapes either, he had them after all, and that was more than any human he’d ever met. Other dragons? Well, he didn’t know so much, but that didn’t matter either!

So what if everything Simon Snow had learned about his dragon-half was self-taught? He was doing it. He was surviving, succeeding, whatever it was he was doing, he certainly wasn’t dying. He was figuring it out, he was a work in progress. He knew that, but he was proud of himself all the same.

No, in the rule of dragons and their pride, Simon Snow was certainly no exception.

So how in the bloody hell had he ended up here of all places?

Well, the specificities of where here was remained a little more than vague. He couldn’t see outside the building he’d been zapped into, and he certainly hadn’t seen how he’d ended up here. How could he have? One moment, Simon was burrowing himself under a tree trunk, seeking warmth for the night’s rest, and the next he was trapped in some circle with strange symbols in a language he didn’t know and he couldn’t step out of it.

The bloody thing kept shocking him whenever he got too close to the edges.

Oh, and that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was the human who was pacing in front of him, shiny black hair slicked back and muttering to himself, paying barely a glance to Simon.

Simon, just a friendly reminder to anyone who may have forgotten, who had ended up caught in this mistake of a trap that the human had most probably set up. Simon tried to shift shapes back to his human shape to express his distinct displeasure with the situation but found himself stuck in that way too.

Simon crowed out his displeasure, a warbling, hissing sound accompanied by a sharp glare, and only then did his captor turn his attention Simon’s way. He was going to tear this human a new one when he got himself free, as soon as he figured out how to do that in the first place.

“Oh,” His captor said upon his notice, “You’re with me then.”

Simon would’ve very much liked to have said “obviously!” or “clearly!” or “haven’t you been paying attention this whole time?” but his voice was still trapped in his dragon shape. Instead, he warbled out his annoyance. He warbled especially loudly about the sharp grey eyes that were inspecting him much too closely.

But then the human knelt before him, and as much as Simon wanted to snap and bite and blow fire in the smug looking twat’s face, he found himself still quite unable to do any of it.

He settled for huffing smoke. At least he could still huff smoke.

“Ah, fire glands then. Well, I’ve clearly made an error. I apologize for that, little one,” Simon hissed quietly in answer, immediately defensive of the mention of his size, but the human hadn’t seemed to notice, already rambling on, “We’ll just have to figure it out together then, won’t we? Apologies for the inconvenience in the meanwhile though. This isn’t exactly what I was intending either.”

Well, Simon huffed another puff of smoke between them, at least he had apologized. Simon’s nesting spot for the night had been a good one and now a badger had probably claimed it from him! The least this infuriating human could do was give him a nice place to rest tonight. He was owed a pillow. And a blanket. And that was very the least of it!

[star-girl69]

Dragon Dreamer

a/n: i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: angst, crying, swearing, incest, tell me if i missed anything!

Chapter Four- Let Me Memorize Your Face

—-

You wake the next day with a thousand words on your lips. But your bed is empty.

You feel your heart twist painfully and foolish tears well in your eyes and you cannot help but want to rip your hair out for being so foolish.

Aemond said he loved you. Aemond held you.

And he left.

Of course he left. Because this war is much more important than you. Much more important than his wife, who is strong and brave and a Dragon Dreamer but also just a foolish child who wants him to stay.

Why can’t he stay? Maybe only for a few minutes, stay long enough for you to memorize his face. He would place his hand on your face- because he is so mesmerized with you- and you wouldn’t feel the need to hold it there. Not scared he would pull away.

Your skin burns with the ghost of his touch.

Your eyelids are seared with his image.

He is everything. He is all you can see. You are nothing.

—-

“Is something the matter, Y/N?” Alicent’s words a kind, and you feel the need to lean into her motherly touch. But you are still feverish with loss, embarrassed for thinking you would wake with him beside you.

“I’m just worried about Aemond.”

She nods, her face twisting painfully. She sighs.

“Oh, sweetling, I am too. I know he did not mean to kill the boy. It must be weighing heavily on him. I never wanted any of you to know pain like that.”

“Pain like what?” You ask, curious. You know of pain quite well. But what does your almost-mother speak of?

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Like loss.”

—-

The aviary is alive with the sound of birds, and you hum as one lands on your finger. Helaena watches from the outside, a caterpillar winding between her fingers. She would never put her precious bugs in harms way.

“And this is a mourning dove. She’s only three years old, named Laen, in memory of Laena and Laenor. They are your something cousins, I think.”

The twins do not make any motion, content to sit on the floor of the aviary and feel the green carpet below them. They lack curiosity, but everyone else in the Keep has grown tired of hearing about your birds.

Aemond would listen, you think bitterly.

But Aemond is not here.

Jaehaera and Jaehaerys will have to do.

“Doves symbolize peace, love, freedom. Isn’t that beautiful?” Jaehaerys looks up at you with curious eyes, a smile overtaking his face at nothing. He is young, innocent, and so unlike you. “Can you say freedom? Free-dom?” Your eyes are alight.

“Ee-dom.” He whispers. You smile.

—-

“My wife,”

The words startle you. You haven’t heard them in so long.

“Aemond,” you whisper, not daring to put any derision in your voice. You are tired, do not want to risk his displeasure. You set a small black crow onto a branch, the runt of the clutch, who fell from his nest.

“Has the day treated you well?” You turn toward him, and he leans against the cage of the aviary. A bird flys in front of him, but he does not startle. Black bars separate him and you. He smirks, glancing behind you towards the setting sun. The garden air is still warm with it, but fading quickly.

“Yes. The twins and Helaena kept me company.” His smirk drops, and he suddenly seems like a young boy again. Toeing the ground anxiously.

“I don’t mean to leave you.”

“Then why do you?”

“Y/N…” He trails off, as if to say, I cannot tell you.

But his refusal only scorns you, and you open and close the gated door quickly. Storming past him, footsteps sinking into the soft grass.

“My love,” he starts, but you are tired.

“Aemond, I’m tired. Please.” He seems hurt, but you cannot find it in yourself to care. He grabs your hand and you let him.

“I love you, my dreamer. Do you know that?”

You do not answer, because you are not sure if you do.

—-

taglist:

@stargaryenx @leoramage @slutforaemond

[taiblogcomics]

Fight for Our Rights and Wrongs

Hey there, pocket-sized musical spit waffles. Well, it's more Countdown today. I dunno how else to prepare you for that~

Here's the cover:

Oh boy, this is another one of those fetish covers, isn't it~? Once again, I'm pretty sure I've seen this exact sort of art on DeviantArt a load of times, right down to the size difference. I think this one at least has more broad appeal. And, honestly, I will admit there's probably some symbolism here. Definitely a cover that'd get people to get folks to buy it, and therefore it's an excellent cover. At least for doing what it's supposed to! Not my personal favourite, but not terrible~

Here's the recap: Mary Marvel is getting magic lessons from Zatanna, but might betray her. Jason Todd, Donna Troy, and friends are searching for Ray Palmer, but might be lost. Pied Piper and Trickster are chained together and on the run, but might be caught. Jimmy Olsen is applying to super teams, but might be in over his head. Holly Robinson and Harley Quinn are at a women's shelter, but might be recruited for something else. And Karate Kid and Una might be dying, but are looking for a cure. And we're still reading this comic, but might be getting tired of it~

So we open this comic with the Multiverse Crew being surrounded by anthropomorphic bug creatures. Jason rightly asks why they're still hanging around the Microverse when they've been told Ray Palmer isn't here. Well, Jason, it's because we need to pad out the series to get to the projected 52 issues. Bob the Monitor attributes it to some outside force jamming his tech, and Jason is rightly concerned by what could be strong enough to do that. Donna, meanwhile, figures they should just shut up and fight. Then she finds out the bugs know magic. Let's all be glad the bugs in our houses don't cast magic on us.

Another cliffhanger last issue left was Pied Piper and Trickster getting caught by Poison Ivy. She's also clearly giving them a pheromone bath, since Trickster's speech is all slurred and wobbly. Piper's isn't, however, and this is probably because he's gay. I'm not sure this is entirely how sexuality or pheromones work. And I don't think it matters anyway, because then Trickster stops slurring and begins to bluff his way out of the situation. Ivy doesn't believe they're there by coincidence, so Trickster plays that they're there because of whoever she's working for. And she buys this.

Okay, here's the actual cover story. Zatanna passes a Wish.com-looking Necronomicon to Mary Marvel, going "And when you're done with those volumes, start on this one." Mary Marvel, who is in civilian mode for the first time since she got her new powers in this series, is not thrilled with doing more homework. She wants a go with some of Zee's magic trinkets, and Zatanna compares letting her have them before she's studied akin to giving a loaded gun to a child. Mary shows how much she isn't a child by throwing a magic tantrum, turning into her super form without even using the magic word.

Anyways, Mary enchants the books so they go flying at Zatanna. I mean, like, actually flying, flapping their pages like wings. "If you think they're so great, you read them!" …Pretty sure she has, Mary, that's why she's a powerful mage. Indeed, with one spell, the books return to normal. And here's one of the big infamous moments of the whole comic. Mary smashes open Zatanna's display case, grabs hold of a particular magic rod, and absorbs its power with an orgasmic look on her face. "Oh, no wonder you wanted this all to yourself!" Yeah. Like, we established earlier that Mary's probably over 18, but it's still not a great visual. Her expression's not even very well drawn~

While the girls are fightiiiiiiiing, we get a one-page cutaway to Jimmy Olsen. Remember last issue ending on a cliffhanger where Jimmy exposes Superman's secret? Yeah, forget about that, because now we're just at the Justice League meeting room where Superman is auditioning Jimmy in costume to the rest of the League. Batman speaks for the reader by saying "Someone tell me how this isn't a massive waste of time?" While it is a dickish thing to say, it's also a fantastic quote for the entire series. Shoulda put that one on the cover, DC~

Karate Kid and Una arrive at some mysterious base. One of those concrete military bunkers, you know? This is where Oracle's lead has led them, and the guy inside sends out another guy to intercept them. This is an obscure Superman foe name Equus, and despite his name, he's not horselike at all. He looks like a shitty Wish.com Doomsday with a car headlight in his chest, wraparound sunglasses, and Wolverine's claws. He's somehow like a '90s version of Doomsday even though Doomsday himself was already made in the '90s. I guess there's a reason this guy is obscure~

Like, look at this dorky asshole. Anyway, Karate Kid manages to beat him up until Equus gets his mitts around Una's neck. Similarly, the fighting keeps on fighting in the other fight scenes. Zatanna and Mary Marvel continue their fight, with the added bonus of Eclipso giving her own narration over the action. All of this is her machinations that will inevitably bring Mary closer to her control, or whatever she's on about. And in the Microverse, the bugs restrain all our heroes while a mysterious figure looks on, gloating. Kind of a running theme, really.

Now, the Piper and Trickster plot, meanwhile, has actually managed to talk its way out of a fight scene instead. Ivy releases them from her vines, though she's still skeptical about them. Trickster tells her that once "the big guy" gets here, everything will be cool. And then you hear a voice from behind them: the big guy is here already, and everyting is far from cool. And the comic ends with a full-page reveal that Ivy's current employer is none other than Deathstroke the Terminator. So maybe this is going to turn into a fight scene after all~

It's one of those fight scene issues! And given the decompressed storytelling, expect this to apply to the next few issues afterwards as well. And personally, the most infamous part of this issue, Mary Marvel's orgasmo-face as she clutches Zatanna's magic rod, isn't that big a deal. It's mostly just an awkward-looking image with some awkward implications if you're overthinking it. Really, the stuff that bothers me more includes the way Mary jumps off the deep end almost immediately, the weird applications of how Poison Ivy's pheromones work, and what an awful design Equus has. He looks the dudebro version of Doomsday. He's *Dudesday*.

[charlieslowartsies]

Hello!

Director's cut about how the flashlight works, please? It's really interesting!

Awrighty!

The flashlight wasn't the Crying Child's light until, I wanna say Ghost Strings. It wasn't Michal Afton's that he unthinkingly gave to Arthur until he debuted in Lies Within. So its role evolved over the stories lol.

But it's always been in the series. I always considered it sort of it's own character, tied to the Crying Child and to the Marionette.

The flashlight is based LOOSELY on the concept of tsukumogami from Japenese folklore. The base idea is that "an item that lived long enough would eventually become alive and turn self-aware." I emphasize loosely cause, well, 100 years has absolutely not passed. Nor is it housing a spirit. The flashlight is not technically by-the-book haunted, it is still a tool. Although finicky, it can pass as ordinary when it needs (or wants to.) The flashlight is also based off Thor's Mjölnir, and the Master Sword from LoZ.

I asked myself "what happens when residual spooky stuff clings to objects in the restaurant? What's good symbolism for light/night guards? Oh duh, the flashlight!"

Before Arthur's death, it was very normal. Just a plastic, light yellow flashlight that Max gave his brother one night, not realizing the importance of his words on the child. Quite often we say something off-handed that children cling to with all their might. This is how the flashlight's powers were planted and how they grew, if rather oddly. Arthur believed it could do things like chase away the Nightmares, and so it did, and still does in the series. He brought it to the restaurant on the day he died, setting it by the Prize Puppet and, of course, never picking it up again. The Marionette took it and hid it in it's box on some strange, unbidden instinct as the chaos of the day unfolded.

After Arthur's death, it began to run without batteries. It won't turn on for just anyone, although you do not need to be a Suit to work it, especially if you're deemed worthy of being a security guard by it. It's a bright light when being held by a strong spirit, and generally is used for warding off Nightmares, tearing at shadows to reveal the Truth, to expose what is trying to hide in plain sight. It can force Mike and Gold to Switch, and as such could be used as a weapon against them in the wrong hands, or even the Marionette before it was Revived.

It's relentless and terrifies William Afton, because even though he was able to manipulate the Marionette and the Crying Child early on, he could never quite seem to get the flashlight to not hurt him when it's beam touched him. Nightmares loathes it, because he cannot hide and pretend to be bigger and scarier than the rest when it's light sends away the shadowy smog around him.

It's able to move with relative independence, teleporting like Marion to it's desired destination or rolling. It prefers to stick with Mike unless for some reason he's in grave danger, in which case it seeks out Danny Fitzgerald, the day guard. In Ghost Strings, it was tied to the Marionette and Arthur, and so when they began to break down together, it got weaker until it attached itself to Mike as a new host, a sort of passing of the torch. It will pass again in Lies Within.

It's level of sentience I settled on is limited but clear enough to understand usually what it wants. It has a job to do, and it will accomplish it without fail, and illuminate the darkness. Mike can control Goldy, at the very least direct him, but the flashlight isn't really something you command. It doesn't think in gray scale, rather in black and white. This can be tricky, since life is not black and white.

It's something you wield, so that does make it a bit of a wildcard. Like Suits that are varied with different powers, the flashlight has different tactics it tries based on what it's aimed at, but there's little way of knowing what it will try or making it do something you want, which makes it kind of unreliable and Mike tries to use it as nothing more than a normal flashlight, and far less as a weapon.

Mike uses it secondarily to open doors that connect to other door ways, typically inside the building he's in. This is great trick for moving across a location rapidly, and is an offshoot of Goldy's teleporting powers. (It's thought to augment certain powers the ghosts already carry because of this.) If Max used the light, it could potentially create stronger illusions. If someone else used it ON Max, it could likely destroy his illusion instead.

It's twin is Max's cassette walkman, which is also why they're the same shade of yellow in drawings. The walkman was Max's most important possession when he was alive, connecting him to music and offering an escape when he needed it. Like Scraptrap, the walkman symbolized escape. The flashlight was Arthur's, and it stood for protection like the Marionette did.

[snifekinner]

requesting a heta tech arthur tattoo tour

hell yeah you can!! strap in, we have a lot of ground to cover.

(sites marked with gold dots are former piercings)

starting off strong we have a skull wearing a tophat and smoking a pipe surrounded by flames.

green snake wrapping around the right arm. i drew it too low, it doesn't quite peek out of his sleeve but he does use his watch to cover the very end of it.

bunch of shitty stick and pokes his friends did while they were drunk, at university. one says "punk in drublic". they're really faded and his chest hair mostly covers them now.

giant anchor tattoo. his family have a history of serving in the navy and arthur's always had a fascination with ships and sailing. not the only nautically inspired tattoo he has.

equally large sailing ship. im gonna say it's specifically the hms victory because that ship was very familiar to me growing up and lbr she's iconic.

these are some of the few tattoos he's not embarrassed about; from top he has a bunch of purple pansies (his maternal grandfather's favourite flower); a red rose (his mother's favourite flower) and a poppy (for the paternal grandfather who died in WW2).

a compass, obviously. it's not because of pirates of the carribean but as a side note, arthur loved those films. you know he got his life when keith richards turned up in the third one, he LOVES the stones.

obligatory sexy '50s pin up lady except she's a green zombie

another skull, this one has a mohawk. a lot of these are basic flash tattoos he got by stumbling drunk into a shitty tattoo place and pointing at something on the wall. the '80s were that kind of time. some of them are really not well executed and this mohawked skull might be the worst of them; it bled badly and the colours have really faded. thankfully it's easy to hide.

poorly placed anarchy symbol. first tattoo he got (apart from the stick and pokes).

an astrolabe - it's a copy of the one on the pub sign for the world's end, a pub arthur worked in and loved for many years before moving into the white collar world.

a pocket watch (more shitty flash)

massive anchor. this was also a shitty flash but he got it the night after his dad died so be kind about it.

don't be kind about this. this is literally a dancing stick figure that he got as a drunk dare. you'd think this would be the one he's most embarrassed about but it's actually a helpful decoy. if people ask about tattoos he shows them this one and tells the story, and that amuses them enough that they move on, and he never has to explain the long backstory about his idiot punk era. i should be clear, he doesn't really regret it although he regrets some of the choices he made back then. it's just exhausting to keep hearing, "oh my god! no way! you'd never guess from looking at you now! that is SO crazy!" the 80s man. you had to be there.

& 16. his childhood pets, rizzle the rat and carmen the cat.

[stories-from-the-shaded-moon]

Trusty Arrow

Part 2 of my Super Smash Bros Ultimate Fic!

Link felt the soreness in his bones. He knew something as simple as a throw would kill him. The way his body tinted a scarlet red told him.

He was not going to lose his first fight since being back. Especially not to the guy who called him “Kiwi”.

He threw his boomerang and jumped into the air. The boomerang immobilized Roy for only a second, which was long enough for Link the plunge down, sword first.

But Roy regained himself quickly, dodging his blade with that white blinking light. Link groaned, dodging Roy’s own flame guided attack before turning into a spin attack. Only the last spin hit, but it sent Roy flying.

Link dashed forward and pulled out his bow. He didn’t want to risk trying to spike Roy. If he failed, it could be what makes him lose.

Link drew his arrow, the tip of it glowing with flames. He watched Roy with the eye of an owl. And when it felt right, he released it.

And it shot true.

Roy let out a squeal as the fire hit his body. He was shot up into the sky and Link dashed to him. He jumped and, with one swing of his blade upward, red veins formed around Roy.

“Game!” Link’s body moved in slow motion for only a second before he was teleported to a field with some sort of castle in the distance.

He sheathed his sword and put away his shield. Then he dusted off his hands and put his hands on his hips with a satisfied huff. Then his vision went black.

~~~

When his vision came back, his body felt exactly how it did when he first arrived on that tower.

A smile found his face for, like, the fourth time that day. He knew this place. It was SBHQ.

A second later, Roy spawned from a ray of light. He was no longer tinted scarlet red nor was he smoking. Roy caught his eye and sent him a thumbs up. Link gave him one too. Roy nodded and walked forward. There, on a huge door, was a symbol Link couldn't forget no matter how simple it was. It was just a circle with an upside down lowercase T cut into it.

“It’s been a while, I will say,” Roy nearly whispered, looking upon the symbol with light eyes. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Link said, placing his hand on the door. Half of the symbol lit up bright green.

Roy chuckled. “Still as nimble as you once were, huh, Kiwi?” Roy placed his hand on the door. The second half of it lit up vermillion red.

The door rumbled as it opened wider and wider.

Link could name everyone he saw as all of their heads turned towards him and Roy.

His eyes caught Pit’s form first, his wings being such a pale white it was like trying to look at the sun. His toga, as Pit called it, wasn’t new. But then again, nor was his own green tunic. The golden wreath sat atop his brunette hair like a crown of a prince.

Beside Pit was the Blue Blur himself. His royal blue fur, Link guessed it was, was as pristine as ever. It nearly shined. And his eyes were still probably as big as Link’s head.

Then he met eyes with…him, he supposed. “Outset!” Link made a mad dash.

“Kokiri!” They embraced each other tightly. Though, Outset was a little shorter than Link, or Kokiri, was.

“Where’s Ordon?” Kokiri looked around for his darker green tuniced friend. Outset sucked in a breath.

“Well, y’see,” Outset motioned to the teenager next to them. He had a blue tunic with a sword embroidered on the collar.

He wielded the Hylian shield…and the Master Sword.

“That’s not…?” Link pointed at him. Outset sighed.

“It’s not, but you did say that you once fought alongside your…older but younger self, right?”

“Yeah, but Ordon-“

“Replaced him, right?”

Link’s shoulders deflated with the realization. “Oh. Well, damn.”

“But, this is…?” Outset looked to the boy for an answer.

“You can call me Arrow I guess?” He was soft spoken, like he was scared. He rubbed his forearm and looked away.

Ah. Trauma, definitely.

“Why Arrow?” Kokiri dared to ask.

“Well, I have one really strong arrow. That guy over there, Captain Falcon, told me that it was my Final Smash…?” Arrow shrugged.

Those last two words vibrated in his head. A familiar feeling, one that led to his eye being taken away from him.

He knew they weren’t there now, but the blue and red marks he should’ve had, buzzed on the spots on his face.

“Outset, I think I don’t have that fuckass Final Smash anymore.” Outset’s eyes widened.

“You felt that too?”

“Like, the buzzy thing?”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah!”

“You have a kid?!” Kokiri’s shoulders tensed immediately. He slowly turned. He was a…beefy guy. At least, that’s what Kokiri thought. His yellow scarf waved behind him. His gloves, shoulder pads, and boots were also yellow, making them the first thing you really looked at. Though, his suit was blue, followed by a dominantly red helmet. But the helmet physics were weird and blacked out his eyes.

It was the second man he’d ever called- “Captain, I’m-“

Thick fingers gripped Kokiri’s shoulders tightly and started shaking him. “You. Are. TWELVE!”

“What?!” Kokiri shouted. “I’m not twelve! I’m-“

“You are a child! What woman manipulated you to-“

“I’m married!” Kokiri saw Roy snickering to the side and sent him a mean glare.

Falcon’s shaking stopped suddenly, yet Kokiri’s brain still rattled in his skull. “Twelve year olds can get married?”

“I’m,” he felt like throwing up all over the crimson carpet. “thirty…”

“Thirty?!” It echoed throughout everyone’s mouths.

“I said that like four times!” Kokiri pushed the racer away and shook his head, trying to focus his vision from the blurry mess it was now.

“But like…a kid?” The royal blue hedgehog rubbed his neck.

“Yes! And a wife!” Kokiri pointed to the ceiling, a smile on his face and his free hand on his hip.

“Ah.” Everyone chorused.

“A wife?” Pit smirked. “Is it that redhead?”

Kokiri deflated. “When did I-“

“Every time Lucina and Chrom got into it about lineage, it’d be about her!” Roy cut in. Hums and nods were like ripples throughout the room.

“Ordon is-“

“Your descendant.” Samus said. This one had no suit on. For a second, Kokiri wondered if the other Samus would join them. “You…fangirled about it. We all know, Kiwi.”

“Can we please stop with the Kiwi?”

“But why?” Kokiri gave Outset a stink eye. “It’s so cute! Like you!” Laughs and chuckles filled the space.

Kokiri felt his cheeks grow hot. He punched Outset’s shoulder, leading to the boy to squeak. “I am not cute!”

“He’s right,” Marth cut in. “Kiwi isn’t cute, he’s adorable.” The prince smiled as Kokiri’s eye twitched.

Then it was like the light around him began to dim. “Scatter!” Roy shouted and everyone did as told.

Kokiri looked down at his form and found his body glowing with multiple colors. Deep in his head, the voice rumbled.

“Do they truly anger you enough to use me? It sounds like it’s meant to be good natured.”

Kokiri frowned. “So, you’re not going to throttle them for me?”

“No.” Kokiri groaned. Now was a great time for that fuckass final smash.

It was called Triforce Slash…right? He had no idea where it came from. If he had two triforces, Ganondorf would’ve been defeated in seconds without the whole time travel shenanigans.

Kokiri groaned as his vision went back to normal without him getting his revenge.