#croc!rumple

[killianxswan]

oof this victim blaming is just not it!

milah was clearly trapped in a marriage that she wasn’t happy in. she told rumple straight to his face she never loved him (and then he promptly ripped her heart out, totally deserving of a prize ! ). it is made very clear every time we are shown flashbacks of bae’s early life that fighting for glory in the ogre wars (and facing certain death) was considered the courageous duty of any honorable man. maybe you consider it honorable that he found a self harm loophole but i certainly don’t !

killian and milah’s first meeting shows the audience point blank everything she wants in a man that rumple is not. the woman wanted to be desired, protected, and seeks adventure, and SHE’S the bad guy? double standard. and don’t start on “she has a duty to stay with the father of her child”, because we already know that’s not accepted here.

sorry i could go on, but i’m still stuck on “he deserves a prize” for crippling himself to go home to bae? was that worth it to let him fall through a portal all alone all those years later because he was too afraid of a teensy weensy dagger? be serious.

Rumpelstiltskin's first wife, Milah, was an emotionally abusive asshole. Like he fucking crippled himself so that he could be there for his kid and that's a bad thing? Fuck that noise, he deserves a fucking prize.

[theaawalker]

Fandoms I'll Write For

Marvel (not Iron Man, Starlord, Loki, Thor, Doctor Strange, or Hawkeye, Drax, Victor Creed, Antman, Adam Warlocke, AG's Spiderman, or Cyclops)

DCEU (not Peacemaker, Killer Croc, JL's Joker, RP's Batman, or anyone from Gotham except Jerome/Jeremiah Valeska)

Scream Queens (not Chad Radwell or Pete Martinez)

American Horror Story (only Murder House, 1984, Freakshow, and Cult)

Hunger Games (not Gale, Maymitch, President Snow, or Cato)

The Maze Runner (not Ava Paige, Jorge, or Janson)

My Little Pony

Once Upon A Time (not Hook, David, Rumple, Neal, Peter Pan, or Zelena)

Pacific Rim (not the sequel)

Twilight (not Seth, Edward, Carlyle, or Jasper)

Stranger Things (not Will Byers, Billy Hargrove, or Jim Hopper)

IT (2017, 2019, and tv series) (not Henry Bowers or Pennywise)

Jurassic Park/World (not Owen Grady or Ian Malcolm)

Jumanji (1997 & 2017)

Zathura (not the dad or robot)

Stand By Me (not Ace Merrill)

Girl, Interrupted (not Jared Leto's character)

The Black Phone (not the Grabber or Mr. Blake)

Teen Wolf (the film & series)

Equestria Girls

Teen Wolf (not Peter, Jackson, Theo, or Derek)

The Office (not Jim, Ryan, or Dwight)

Now You See Me (not Dylan Rhodes or Merritt McKinney)

Descendants (not Chad, Harry, Ben, Jay, or Carlos)

Sky High (not Zach or Speed)

Percy Jackson films (not Luke Castellan)

The Umbrella Academy (not Five)

TMNT (live action ver. only)

Dance Moms (not the final season)

Ender's Game

Wednesday (not Xavier, Tyler, or the Dean)

Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse (not Mentor Peter Parker)

Unbreakable (not Hedwig or Dennis)

Big Hero 6

The Black Mirror

Dynasty (not Culhane, Adam, or Blake)

Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

Spy Kids

Sharkboy & Lavagirl

Clue, Knives Out, & Glass Onion

Back to the Future (not Biff), Breakfast Club (not Bender), Sandlot, Stand By Me (not Ace Merrill), Mighty Ducks, The Outsiders (not Dally, Two-Bit, Randy, Bob, Steve, or Darry)

I’m willing to write imagines for underage characters so long as there's no romance (examples: hang out with the Losers Club at the barrens; go shopping with Eleven and Max; play baseball with Finney and Bruce). I’m allowed to deny any request and the longest I should take ever to write one is about 2 weeks. I’ll write smut, fluff, angst, poly relationships, LGBTQ+, etc. Generally most of my x readers are female unless stated otherwise.

What I won’t write-

I won’t write anything to do with rape, bestiality, necrophilia, incest, romance with anyone younger than 18, gun play, anything about poo(sexually), anything about urine(squirting is fine considering it’s not technically urine), age gaps. See guidelines for more details.

Thanks for reading❤️

A.A. Walker

[rumbelleshowdown]

-

Author: Danger Mouse

Group: Final

Prompts: Baby milestones. Panic, expect, ambition, compact. Treasure.

-

Baby Steps

“Belle!”

Belle looked up at the sound of her own name and saw Snow White crossing the street, a huge smile on her face.  When she arrived on the same side of the road she bent down, getting a better look into the stroller that Belle was pushing.  

“And Gideon!  Wow, I feel like it’s been forever since I last saw you.  Look at how big you’ve gotten!”  

“Yeah, he’s a little weed that’s for sure.” Belle smiled in return, looking down at her son.  “Hey Gid, do you want to say hi to Snow?”

“Oh, is he talking now?”  Snow looked up, then back at Gideon expectantly. 

“Well, no.  Not really.”  Belle shrugged.  “He babbles a lot, but nothing we can make out as actual words yet.”  

“Ah, I remember that stage.”  Snow nodded her head wryly.  “Neal babbled ‘dada’ when he was six months old and David absolutely insisted it counted as his first word.”

“What was his actual first word?”

“Dada.”  Snow laughed.  “When he was ten months he pointed directly at David and said it, so I had to concede the point.  He said ‘mama’ soon after though, so I didn’t feel too left out.”  

“Rumple thinks that Gideon will say ‘mama’ first but I���m not so sure.”

“Well, I’m sure you won’t have to wait too long to find out. He’s what?  Fourteen months now?  How is he with walking?  Has he taken his first steps yet?”  

“No, not yet.”  Belle kept her smile on her face with effort.  “He crawls a bit, but generally prefers to stay put and play with whatever he has around him.”

“Consider yourself lucky.”  Snow stood back up to her full height and addressed Belle directly.  “Neal was an early walker and budding escape artist. I’d turn my back for half a second and he’d be gone.  I longed for the days when I could set him down somewhere and know he’d stay put!”  

“Sounds like he was a bit of a handful.”  

“Very much so,” Snow agreed.  “But totally worth it.”   

“Oh, definitely.”  Belle smiled down at Gideon fondly.  

“Well, I’ve gotta run but it was great to see you.”  Snow took a step back.  “And I hope you’re coming to the Fourth of July celebrations tomorrow.”  

“Oh, right.”  Belle shook her head at herself.  “I’d completely forgotten about that.  But, sure, I’ll ask Rumple but I don’t think we have any plans.”

“Great!  See you there!”  

*

When Rumplestiltskin returned from the shop that evening he smiled at the sound of the voices of his wife and child drifting through from the living room.  Moving slowly he peeked around the door frame to see them both sat on the floor, Belle with a compact set of flashcards in her hand.

“Ooh, look at this one, Gideon.  Camel.  Ca-mel.”

“Ab-da!  Ba!”  

“And here’s a crocodile.  Croc-o-dile.”  

“La-do.  Hee.”  Gideon reached out to bat away the card.  

“All right, not a fan of crocodiles I see. How about an armadillo?  Can you say ‘armadillo’?”

“Lo!”

“Yes, armadillo!”

Rumplestiltskin decided now was a good time to make his presence known.  “Expecting our son’s first word to be ‘armadillo’ is a tad ambitious, don’t you think?”  

Belle and Gideon both turned to him, beaming smiles on their faces. 

“Rumple!  Hi, we didn’t hear you come in.”  Belle pushed herself up on her knees enough to receive the kiss he leaned down to bestow on her lips as he walked up to her.  “How was your day?”

“The usual.”  He sat in the nearby armchair, close enough to reach out and stroke Gideon’s head, as Belle settled back down.  “How about you two?  Did you and Mama have a good day, Gideon?”  

“We did, didn’t we?”  Belle addressed Gideon before looking up at Rumplestilskin.  “We went to the park and Gideon saw the ducks.  Then on the way back we ran into Snow White.”

“Oh?”  Rumplestiltskin kept his voice casual.  He knew his wife well enough to pick up on the way her demeanour shifted slightly when she mentioned Snow’s name.  “What did she want?”

“She was asking about Gideon.  If he’s talking and walking yet and telling me how early Neal did both of those things.”  Yes, there was a definite note of dejection in her voice now.  

“She upset you,” Rumplestitlskin growled, thinking of all the ways he could make the princess’s life miserable.

“No!”  Belle hurried to reassure him.  “I mean, not on purpose.  She just wanted to talk about babies with someone she felt could relate.  And I get that, I do. I just worry about how long Gideon is taking to reach those milestones.”

“Hey.”  His voice was soft as he stood, gently pulling her to her feet as well and holding her arms carefully.  “Remember that veritable library of baby books you bought?  I know you read every single one of them. What did they all say?”

“That all babies are different and develop at their own rate.” 

“Exactly.  It’s not a race, sweetheart.  Gideon is doing fine.”

“I know.  I know.  I guess I just…”

“What?  Expected him to be a genius who developed faster than all the other babies because he’s our son?”

“No!  Well, maybe a little.”  She turned away in embarrassment before meeting his eyes again, looking almost guilty.  “But it’s not just that.  Sometimes I wonder, what if it’s me?  What if I’m not doing something I should be doing, or, or doing something wrong and stifling his development somehow?”

“Belle.”  Rumplestiltskin stared intently into her eyes, wanting to make sure she was paying attention to what he was about to say.  “Listen to me.  You are a wonderful mother.  Gideon is happy and healthy and that’s what matters.  If he’s a bit late in developing then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, but we have plenty of time before that stage.  He’s doing fine.”

They both turned to where Gideon was still sitting on the floor, babbling away to a couple of stuffed animals.

“You’re right.”  Belle smiled in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood, before reaching down to pick up their son.  “You’re doing fine, aren’t you Gid?”  

“Ba-da!”  He thrust the toy giraffe in his hand towards her face.

“For me?”  Belle took it with a smile.  “Thank you, Gideon.”  

“Ahhh!  Ba!”  Gideon reached out and Belle handed the giraffe back to him.  

“By the way, thanks for finding that.” Belle turned her head towards Rumplestiltskin.  “Where was it in the end?”

“Hmm?  Where was what?”  

“His giraffe.  I couldn’t find it anywhere yesterday morning, but he had it today.  I thought you must have found it.”  

“Not that I can recall, but then he does have a lot of toys.”  He gestured at the cluttered living room.  “It was probably just hidden under something else.”  

“Maybe.”  Belle frowned as she looked around .  “I thought I checked though.  Oh, before I forget, Snow wanted to know if we’re going to the Fourth of July celebrations tomorrow?”

Rumplestiltskin sighed.  “Seems a strange thing to celebrate when we’re not even from this land.”

“Gideon is,” Belle pointed out.  “And I think it would be fun for him.  I can take him on my own if you’re not interested.”  

“No, no.  I’d much rather spend the day with you two.  As long as you don’t expect me to engage in any activities.”

“I think you’ll be safe,” Belle laughed.  “You can use Gideon as a handy excuse.”    

*

The Fourth of July dawned warm and sunny.  Rumplestiltskin watched in fond amusement as Belle slathered their son in SPF 50 before dressing him in a sun suit and floppy hat, then added two more bottles of sunscreen to her purse.  

When they arrived at the celebrations, his wife made a bee-line for a picnic table under the shade of a large tree, claiming the whole area with the stroller and bags she had brought.  Taking a seat facing outwards towards the square she held Gideon in her lap so he could watch the goings on around them.  

“Hey, guys!”  Ruby Lucas came bounding over once they had settled in, smiling widely at the family before focusing all her attention on Gideon.  “And hey, little man!  Great to see you!  Will you be joining our treasure hunt today?”

She reached into the bucket she was carrying and produced a plastic golden doubloon, waving it in front of Gideon’s face, causing him to laugh in delight.

“What treasure hunt is this?”  Belle asked.

“I’ve hidden a load of these around the square,” Ruby replied, handing the coin to Belle, “for the kids to find.  They can exchange them at Granny’s stall for cookies and treats or save them up for bigger prizes.”  

“Sounds fun,” Belle said, examining the coin while Gideon tried to grab it from her.  “But I think Gideon would prefer to watch from the sidelines, wouldn’t you Gid?”  

“Of course.”  Ruby winked at them, taking the coin back.  “Well I hope you have a good day, and enjoy the rest of the celebrations.”

Gideon reached out as she turned to leave, grumbling slightly.  

“Aw, it’s all right, Gideon.”  Belle bounced him softly.  “You’ll see Auntie Ruby again soon.”  

Gideon’s grumbling only increased, so Belle shifted him slightly to address Rumplestiltskin over his head.  “He might be hungry.  Can you grab his snacks from the back of the stroller?”

Rumplestiltskin nodded, doing as she asked, and looked up again in time to see her addressing a somewhat calmer Gideon.  

“Here we go Gideon, are you hungry?  Oh, what have you got there?”  Her brow furrowed in confusion as she lifted his hand, finding a small gold coin clenched in his fist.  

“Now where did that come from, hmm?”  Belle asked as she gently prised it from his grip.  “Did you take it from Auntie Ruby’s bucket when I wasn’t looking?”

“Ba!”  Gideon smiled and reached out for it.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t want you putting that in your mouth.  Here.”  Belle put the coin down before reaching into the packet Rumplestiltskin handed her.  “Would you like a yummy veggie straw instead?”

Gideon took the snack she offered and proceeded to throw it straight onto the ground.

“Guess not,” Belle laughed, leaning down to pick it up.  “Bit wasteful there, Gideon… Wait, how did you get that again?”

The coin was back in his hand and Belle took it with a shake of her head.  “I know I put that out of your reach.”

Rumplestiltskin winced, knowing his wife was not going to react well to what he had to say next.

“Sweetheart?”  He paused, waiting for her to look at him.  “Don’t be alarmed, but I think it’s possible that Gideon has been using magic.”

“What?  No, he can’t.  He’s…”  Belle trailed off as she looked down in time to see the coin vanish from her hand and reappear in Gideon’s.  “Oh.”  

*

Belle’s mind was whirling as she packed up, ignoring the concerned glance Ruby threw their way, before pushing the stroller back to their house.  She could hear Rumplestiltskin behind her but he didn’t say anything until they got inside.  

“Belle, sweetheart.  It’s all right.  Don’t panic.”  

“Don’t panic?  Our baby has magic!  How am I not supposed to panic?”  She picked Gideon up from the stroller, examining his face as though she could find answers there.  “The books didn’t prepare me for this!”

“Really? ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting’ doesn’t have a chapter on Baby’s First Magic?” he quipped.

“Stop it!  This is serious.  How are you being so calm about it?  How is this even possible?”

“He’s the son of the Dark One and the product of True Love.  He was always going to be exceptional.”  Rumplestiltskin said proudly as he stepped closer, running his hand over the back of Gideon’s head.   

“Yeah, I knew he would be capable of magic.  That he could harness it in the future when he’s able to understand what he’s doing.” Belle felt her voice rising and made an effort to lower it.  “But he’s only a baby.  How are we supposed to get him to control his powers when I can barely stop him putting peas up his nose?”

“I have an idea about that,” Rumplestiltskin began cautiously.  “Do you remember the magic-inhibitor cuff?  Well, I’ve been working on something similar for Gideon, more appropriate for his size.”

“Wait, you knew this was going to happen?”  Belle pulled back in shock.  “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”  

“Only that it was a possibility.  I didn’t know for certain until today.  And I didn’t see any point in worrying you unnecessarily when it might never happen.”

“Right, well, in the future I would like to be informed of the possibility of our son developing magical powers before he starts pickpocketing people at town events,” she hissed.  

“To be fair, Ruby did invite him to join in the treasure hunt.”  Rumplestiltskin shrugged.

“It’s not funny!” Belle snapped.  “What if he’d choked on it?  Or what if this had happened when we were at Granny’s and he decided he wanted a closer look at a shiny steak knife?”  

Rumplestiltskin frowned, apparently not having considered that.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry.”  He looked down before kissing her head and she softened at his obvious contrition.  “Would you like to try the cuff?”

“I don’t see what other choice we have.”  She looked at him in the hopes he might have another suggestion.  “Do you?”  

“Well, I suppose I could try baby-magic-proofing the house.  But I can’t extend that to the whole town.”

“And I don’t want to turn Gideon into a shut-in, afraid to let him interact with people.”  Belle sighed then nodded, her decision made.  “Yes, get the cuff.”  

Rumplestiltskin waved his hand, a baby-sized cuff appearing in his palm.  

Belle eyed it warily, feeling a pang of anxiety despite her earlier words.  “It won’t hurt him, will it?”

“Of course not.  All it will do is suppress his magic.  Hey, Gideon.”  He smiled at his son, who was eyeing the cuff with interest.  “Would you like to wear this?”

Gideon smiled and waved his arm, the cuff disappearing from Rumplestilskin’s hand and into his own.

“Clever boy,”  Rumplestiltskin smiled.  “Shall we put it on you?”

“Ado!”  Gideon threw the cuff on the floor, giving his father a toothy grin..  

“Sorry, son.  That’s what we call a rhetorical question,” Rumplestiltskin chuckled, picking up the cuff and fastening it gently around Gideon’s wrist. “There you go.  It’s only for a little while, and when you’re older I’ll teach you all about magic.”

“Gick!”  

“Yes, Gideon.  Magic.”  Belle smiled, bouncing him softly in her arms.  “Papa will teach you all about magic.”

“Ma-gick!”  Gideon laughed, clapping his hands.

Belle and Rumplestiltskin looked at each other in wonder.

“Did he…?” Belle whispered.  

“I think he did.”  

“Ma-gick!”  Gideon repeated, grinning.

“That’s my boy!”  Rumplestiltskin beamed.  “Now make your mother happy and say ‘armadillo’ next.”  

-

[blueberry-obsessed]

Thank you so much to the absolute darling @marieshyperf1xations for the tag!!

The Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post and share one or two sentences (or lines for artists) from your most recent unposted WIP with zero context.

“Hey, Charles.” Max chuckles a bit, whether it's directed at the French Max surely didn't understand, or the fact that Charles is standing in front of him in bright red Lightning McQueen crocs, he doesn't know.

He unconsciously swings open the door a tad further, a silent invitation for him to come in.

“Hey, Max.” Max toes off his shoes next to his own by the door and walks right on in, past his living room and straight into his bedroom. Of course, he wasn't content with sitting in Charles’ clean living room; he just had to go to the messiest room in the entire apartment. Charles can't find it in himself to care, though. His bed is much more comfier than the sofa, anyhow.

Apparently, Max thinks so too, if the way he's instantly made himself home on rumpled blue sheets is anything to go by. His head is against the headboard, skinny jeans on display. Charles thinks that he definitely needs to convince Max to invest in some baggy jeans for the sake of his own sanity. He takes a seat on the opposite end, twisting his torso a bit so he can face the other man. The atmosphere feels slightly awkward, but then Max snickers and nods towards the absurdly red crocs again.

“I can't believe that you're actually using those.” Charles gasps in offence.

“Why not?” he crosses his arms for added effect, “It would be a waste to not use them, no? Especially since they're nice and comfortable.” Max just laughs at him some more. He crosses his legs as he does so, and Charles scoots a bit closer, shakes his crocs off, and tucks his legs to the side.

“What? Would you rather I waste them?” he juts an accusatory finger in Max's direction, “You're the one that got them for me.” That doesn't help his case all that much, since Max is now cooing at him.

“Aw, did you wear them because you missed me?” And of course, that's the conclusion he draws.

The day I finish this is the day I finally succeed at doing something notable with my life. Anyhow! I'm tagging the lovely @souvenir116 (because I love your writing. Oh my god. Also, because I have no idea who else to tag), no pressure though 🩶 Anyone else that is interested, please feel free to join!!!

[mossmx]

I can't decide between vertical slit (croc like) or horizontal slit (lizard like) for Rumple's genitals asdfghjkl, why is life giving me the hardst battle

[ouatnextgen]

Cygnet Scholar Ship Headcanons

My last main Next Gen ship, Hope Swan-Jones and Gideon Gold!

This ship is my bias for some reason lmao. I can't explain why I love the ship between two barely there characters who never met in canon.

I think that @kazoosandfannypacks put it best in the tags of this post: "'our parents are sworn enemies but we're childhood best friends to lovers' is SUCH a good dynamic."

Also, idk if I ever mentioned this, but in this AU, Gideon stays in Storybrooke and grows up normally there, so he's about a year older than Hope, and four or five months younger than Robyn.

Tropes: Childhood friends to lovers || Kindred spirits || Will-they-won’t-they || Partners in crime || They both like each other, they’re just idiots || Banter

Songs: Chasing Cars- Snow Patrol || Follow You- Imagine Dragons || The Last of the Real Ones- Fall Out Boy || Fire Escape- Andrew McMahon || Sober Up- AJR || Hold Me While You Wait- Lewis Capaldi

Headcanons Under the Cut: (all pre-relationship)

They’ve been best friends since they were toddlers.

They were very close in elementary school, somewhat drifted apart in middle school, and got very close again in high school.

Gideon has liked Hope since early middle school. Hope started liking him in late middle school/ early high school.

Since Gideon is a year older, they don’t have many classes together, but they meet up in the library at lunch. 

Gideon is a mathlete, and Hope is on the school dance team. They try to go to each other’s events after school.

Since they’re both socially inept, they like to hang out in places where there aren't a lot of people. Their favorite spots are: The roof of Mr. Gold’s pawn shop, the clock tower in the library, and the beach on stormy days.

Hope loves talking to Gideon about her hyperfixations, and Gideon loves listening to her.

Hope calls Gideon “Croc,” “Love,” and “Handsome Hero.” Gideon calls Hope “Cygnet,” “Princess,” and “Dearest.”

Gideon has chronic nightmares from his time as the Black Fairy’s puppet, and Hope is happy to distract him when he doesn’t want to bother his mom.

They both leave their windows unlocked at night, and are constantly sneaking into each other’s rooms after nightmares/ anxiety.

Hope doesn’t have any magic, and Gideon fears his own magic. They like to complain about these problems together.

Hope got them those tacky best friend heart necklaces for Gideon’s birthday. Both claim it was a joke, but they rarely take them off.

Gideon is 5’8, and Hope is 5’3, so he picks her up a lot. Mainly to convince her not to do stupid things.

Hope has tried to date a few people before realizing she had it bad for Gideon (including Robyn, but that’s another post) nothing ever worked out longer than a few weeks, and a few were Not Great relationships. Since Gideon is the Dark One’s son, a lot of kids his age either fear him or bully him relentlessly. So not great in the dating department.

Gideon never put much thought into his sexual orientation, but he knows he likes both girls and guys. Hope knew she was asexual pretty early on. She figured out that she was demiromantic later through Alex Boyd, Storybrooke’s resident queer helper-outer. 

Since the whole…thing with Gideon’s dad being mortal enemies with Hope’s dad, and Gideon almost killing Hope’s mom or whatever, Gideon always assumes that Killian and Emma hate him, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Emma, Killian, and Belle all look forward to the day when Hope and Gideon finally get together. (Rumple cheated and looked into the future so he knows that they do lol)

[jotaroslooseeyebrowhair]

Dick stood in his shared apartment with Danny, blood dripping from his broken nose down to the paper torn from Danny's own sketchbook. This paper in particular hurt. It hurt a lot. He knew this would happen if he never told the truth. He was going to! tonight, even, their anniversary. He was finally going to come clean and hope that Danny understood, pray for Danny to forgive him. But he was too little too late. A poorly timed fight with Croc here, an emergency team-up there, and too little time actually spent with his love.

On one side, a goodbye letter, addressed to him. stating exactly what happened. Dick left. Not that he wanted to, of course, but the fact that he not only left, but was never really there. The lies, the bruises, the suspiciously timed retreats to home that all pointed to cheating. Dick... Understood, I suppose. He wasn't honest, and he finally lost who he cared about.

On the other side of the tear-stained and crumpled note? A beautiful art piece of Dick in the outfit Danny loved most. One that was hidden from him whenever he was home. Turning his notebook away, hiding it with giggles and happy shouts, trying to keep Dick's eyes away. Sweet golden letters written atop in smooth cursive,

Happy Anniversary

Dick swung through Bludhaven quickly, not even bothering to change from his bloody costume, his eyes darting everywhere for that ruffled mop of hair that he woke up to each morning. His heart was racing, let him get there before It's too late and fuck it was so goddamn late already, but he had to try.

There.

He let go of his grapple and fell to the ground, rolling into a sprint, "Danny!" He called out.

Danny stopped, but he didn't turn around, easily recognizing the voice he came to love.

"Dick." He croaked out, voice raw from crying. "I see you found my note. I'm surprised you found me here, last bus out of Gotham. Right on time. There's a first time for everything, huh?"

Dick skidded to a stop, his chest heaving and his heart clenching in his chest. "Danny... I need you to talk to me- listen to me. I need to explain why I've been so absent."

"No need. You found someone else, I understand. I'm hard to love, it's just a truth. Your bed has room for them now. Go home." Danny says, his voice devoid of emotion.

"No!" Dick stresses quickly, "God no! I love you- I've only ever loved you! Listen to me, please- just listen." He reached forward and pulled Danny's shoulder around so they were facing each other. So Danny can see the rumpled Nightwing suit adorning his body. "Look at me. Look at me, do you understand?" He asks, a smile growing on his face as he knows Danny will understand.

Except he doesn't. Danny's face grown in anger. "Ḍ̷̡̢̥̰̝̩̩͉̱̟͍̞̙̆̑̾̂́̍͊͌ͅa̶͈̍̑̇̃͑̀̋̉͝ṁ̷̡̮̺̔̅̔͜͝n̵̦̒̐͒̒͐̒͒̓͂͆̒̐͐̂͝ȉ̸̭͈̲͓̟͔͖̻̦͆̑͆̍̆̑̆̋̽͆̚t̸̡̧͚̟̰̜͚̱̼̼̟̽͗̂̋͐͊̓̾̓̉̚͠͝," Danny curses in a language Dick's never heard before, "You think this fixes it?! You think I'll forgive you now?! You left me! You left me alone at our anniversary dinner!" He hisses out, "You think this fixes anything?! That it fixes us?!" Tears sting at Danny's eyes- eyes that have slitting pupils.

"Please, Danny..." Dick starts, before he get's cut off.

"No! You don't get to beg, I was there for you- I've always been there for you! And you hurt me, not just emotionally but physically!" He stresses as softly glowing tears stream down his cheeks, "I am physically broken because of you, and it could end me!"

"Danny... Danny what do you mean? What's happening-"

"You don't get to know!" Danny growls- really growls out as he gets up in Dicks face, "You lost that! You lost the right to know that months ago! Don't come looking for me. Don't come looking to take me back. We're done." He says finally, turning and sticking his hands in the- god the space between molecules, ripping it apart with his bare hands like its easy, a vast green expanse that sets every cell in Dicks body on edge. Danny looks back for a moment, his icy blue eyes now a green mirrored from the rip in reality as he grabs his bags from the ground, and steps through.

Danny Fenton was tired. He was also annoyed, just a little bit angry and disappointed, but mainly he was tired.

Tired of the excuses, of the missed dates, of the nights he waited for Dick to come home only for him to show up in the morning with a sheepish smile and an excuse.

He tried to be understanding, he tried to ignore the instincts that screamed that Dick was leaving him, that he was finally getting tired of him and had found someone else.

The problem was that ghosts were beings of emotion. They loved with all their core, they also hated with the same passion, but Danny ignored that. If their partner was not as dedicated, the ghost suffered, their core tried to reach out, form and maintain the bond all alone. Some ghosts even ended up with cracked or shattered cores because they fell for the wrong person.

Danny foolishly thought he would be spared this, he was still half human after all. He was forced to let go of that illusion today. This evening was his and Dick's anniversary dinner. They had planned this months in advance and Dick never even showed up.

Danny felt his core crack on the way home. Not a big break, just a little barely noticeable nick, but given time it could grow deeper and shatter him. So Danny made the decision and packed his things, left a note letting Dick know and left.

[theaawalker]

Quick query do you have a list of who and what you write for?

Fandoms I'll Write For

Marvel (not Iron Man, Starlord, Loki, Thor, Doctor Strange, or Hawkeye, Drax, Victor Creed, Antman, Adam Warlocke, AG's Spiderman, or Cyclops)

DCEU (not Peacemaker, Killer Croc, JL's Joker, RP's Batman, or anyone from Gotham except Jerome/Jeremiah Valeska)

Scream Queens (not Chad Radwell or Pete Martinez)

American Horror Story (only Murder House, 1984, Freakshow, and Cult)

Hunger Games (not Gale, Maymitch, President Snow, or Cato)

The Maze Runner (not Ava Paige, Jorge, or Janson)

My Little Pony

Once Upon A Time (not Hook, David, Rumple, Neal, Peter Pan, or Zelena)

Pacific Rim (not the sequel)

Twilight (not Seth, Edward, Carlyle, or Jasper)

Stranger Things (not Will Byers, Billy Hargrove, or Jim Hopper)

IT (2017, 2019, and tv series) (not Henry Bowers or Pennywise)

Jurassic Park/World (not Owen Grady or Ian Malcolm)

Jumanji (1997 & 2017)

Zathura (not the dad or robot)

Stand By Me (not Ace Merrill)

Girl, Interrupted (not Jared Leto's character)

The Black Phone (not the Grabber or Mr. Blake)

Teen Wolf (the film & series)

Equestria Girls

Teen Wolf (not Peter, Jackson, Theo, or Derek)

The Office (not Jim, Ryan, or Dwight)

Now You See Me (not Dylan Rhodes or Merritt McKinney)

Descendants (not Chad, Harry, Ben, Jay, or Carlos)

Sky High (not Zach or Speed)

Percy Jackson films (not Luke Castellan)

The Umbrella Academy (not Five)

TMNT (live action ver. only)

Dance Moms (not the final season)

Ender's Game

Wednesday (not Xavier, Tyler, or the Dean)

Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse (not Mentor Peter Parker)

Unbreakable (not Hedwig or Dennis)

Big Hero 6

The Black Mirror

Dynasty (not Culhane, Adam, or Blake)

Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

Spy Kids

Sharkboy & Lavagirl

Clue, Knives Out, & Glass Onion

Back to the Future (not Biff), Breakfast Club (not Bender), Sandlot, Stand By Me (not Ace Merrill), Mighty Ducks, The Outsiders (not Dally, Two-Bit, Randy, Bob, Steve, or Darry)

I’m willing to write imagines for underage characters so long as there's no romance (examples: hang out with the Losers Club at the barrens; go shopping with Eleven and Max; play baseball with Finney and Bruce). I’m allowed to deny any request and the longest I should take ever to write one is about 2 weeks. I’ll write smut, fluff, angst, poly relationships, LGBTQ+, etc. Generally most of my x readers are female unless stated otherwise.

What I won’t write-

I won’t write anything to do with rape, bestiality, necrophilia, incest, romance with anyone younger than 18, gun play, anything about poo(sexually), anything about urine(squirting is fine considering it’s not technically urine), age gaps. See guidelines for more details.

Thanks for reading❤️

-A.A. Walker

[heartthrobxhook]

He grunts when he's slammed against the wall and a raspy growl leaves him. Fucking Edward always going for the throat, he was starting to think it was a kink for him. Killian watches the sword appear and he doesn't make a move to try and get away from the attack. He holds eye contact as the sword plunges into his gut and strains not to let out a pained sound.

Reaching out he grabs Edward be the back of his neck to pull him down so their foreheads are touching. "You don't have to fight the croc alone." He whispered and wrapped his other arm around Edward to hold him close. "You hear me in there, Rumple? I'm coming for you."

ᒥ🦴ᒧ—        Grab him, dearie~!...And Edward takes Killian by the throat, slamming him against the wall in the blink of an eye. So much for not being an angry dick, he was fuming now. "Ya don't know anythin' about me, mate, let's get that fuckin' clear." His voice is quiet, eerily calm instead of his usual shouting, enraged tone when pissed. A nerve had been struck. "What and why I've done what I've done is m'business, ya just a pawn in my games. Ya don't get ta know anythin' about me."

He then releases Killian, taking a step back. He clutches his head, the voices shouting at him again. With the anger he felt, he gave in to them. The magic blade is drawn, but he doesn't cast a single spell. No, he goes to run Killian through. "So, fuck you!" He's shouting now.

[goddammit-sam]

Has this been done yet???

[piraticalarchive]

@stiltskin​ : trace + his wrist :| // in which killian’s day gets a lot worse.

Flames flicker and sway, casting dancing shadows across the wooden confines of his cabin, and the pirate captain stumbles to his desk, black boots all but tripping over one another in the haze of drink. The rum had stopped working long ago - it dulls the pain that ebbs and flows in his left wrist like the waves that lap at The Jolly Roger’s hull, makes it easier to breathe, easier to take -  but it does nothing for the dreams that haunt every waking moment. Darkness is a painless bedfellow when its not being chased by the sun, blinding light that sears salt covered skin as if trying to chase the tendrils of grief from an already blackened heart - here, in the confines of his ship, it’s easier to hide from such things. Easier to be Killian Jones than Captain Hook - easier to set aside strength and faux confidence like the curved steel and gauntlet he so casually passes to the side.

Dark tendrils cling to his forehead as he presses a throbbing head to the cool wood of his desk, teeth clenched in a battle against the ghosts that lurk in the corners. They’re waiting, she’s waiting - always there, always with the sad smile that reminds him of the ways he has failed her memory, her life .. the ways in which he has failed them. 

I love you.

Sometimes when he lies there, the ache in both wrist and hollowed chest dulled by the sharp burn of his escape of choice, he can feel her, can almost see her. Cool fingers that soothe the wrinkles from a furrowed brow, that trace salt dried lips as if to remind them of the gentleness that once pressed against them, as if to bring forth memories of smiles rather than threats. And for those brief moments the pirate feels himself relax, giving himself to such fancies though instinct knows it to be a lie 

Tonight she whispers in his ear, those same promises he had uttered to her so many times before. Promises of a future sealed with a brush through sweat dampened hair while lashes flutter against closed eyelids at the haunt of her touch. A ghost of wind brushes over his left wrist and Killian stirs in his sleep, mumbling some word or other - but the scratch of fingernails becomes a scratch of claws and the pirate captain jerks awake, blue eyes sliding sideways with a panicked look.

“Crocodile?” Bloody hell. Chair is unceremoniously knocked to the side as he struggles to his feet, bitterness mixing with drink until he sways, weight shifting as ringed fingers grope blindly for the sword that is not there. Alone, helpless, he has no choice but to face the monster of his nightmares with a set jaw and defiant stare - prideful to the very end. Captain Hook slides easily into place, eyes dark like a stormy sea replacing the lingering glint that had been there while he slept. He yanks his wrist free from the demon’s grasp, cotton covered tongue pressing to the inside of one cheek as heart gives a lurch .. but he is no coward.

 Lips slide into an easy and instinctual grin, one brow quirking in feigned amusement. “Aye - can’t stay away, as it were?” He leans closer, necklace moving from where it rests against a bare chest to dangle between them, words low and tainted with the gruffness of restless sleep. “ - I find I have that effect on people.”

[limerental]

Your characterization of Fringilla is by far my favourite! What do you think she would wear in a Modern AU?

Oh man OK, professionally she would wear skirt or pant suits, preferably in charcoal grey, pinstripe if she is feeling very very daring, and she would wear sensible heels or flats and dark pantyhose, etc etc. And then she'd be a little bit like ??? what do I wear at home, because she spends so much time at the office and out and about being professional and has no friends and went to fancy boarding school so was rarely out of her school clothes so she never had a chance to develop a sense of style. She likes comfort at home so fuzzy slippers, big cozy robe, soft pajama bottoms, but mostly she steals those from Cahir or someone rather than go out and buy them herself.

As for casual wear, she does not own jeans. Or flip flops. She shops by just going in to a clothing store and picking out some clothes because if they're selling it, it must be in style and be OK to wear. So she wears a lot of very ugly but conservative blouses with khaki dress pants and ends up looking like a middle aged church lady a majority of the time.

In a modern au where she met Francesca, there would be a whole thing where Francesca attempts to give her a makeover and update her wardrobe complete with dressing room appraisal fashion show with Fringilla going along with it because Francesca keeps smiling at her and saying different wildly uncomfortable clothing items look good on her. Then, in the end she buys some clothes that are exactly what she's always worn but with a bit more color or maybe some patterns. She even gets a little ruffly white shirt to wear under her blazer at work and maybe a chunky necklace and some hair pins and heels in a color other than black. It's very daring. She's a changed woman.

And I know you didn't ask but Cahir in a modern au would be as bad as Fringilla and wear the prep school boy special where he's usually wearing dress pants and dress shirts or polo shirts and salmon or white board shorts but also often looks a little rumpled and wrinkled at all times. He has not yet learned how to tie a tie so he does not wear one. He wears Aviators and boat shoes (NOT crocs... sperries. With socks).

And Francesca dresses like she walked right off a runway at all times and it's possible that she did.

[pyramultimuse]

Killian rolled his eyes but Edward didn't see since he was ahead of Edward walking up the basement stairs. "You aren't helpless now, you still have those powers that croc gave you. Just no more deals. Don't accept any gifts either, nothing is free from a magical being." He explained before they separated. Ed going to find some drinks in the kitchen area that had a vast array of what looked like wine, rum, whiskey but the labels were not in english but rather some fairy magic language.

The new dark one came to the corpse of the old one and stood over Rumple. He looked at the crocodile skinned warlock and looked to his hook, having lost his hand to this bastard among many things. Nearling losing another lover to him. Dark magic swarmed around his hook and he waved it over the corpse. Black and green fire ignited and burned the body and the blood, a magic flame that only burned the organic matter and blood leaving the the lovely hardwood floor untouched.

By the time Edward found them a drink and came back he saw the last bit of flame burning away and the ash looking like glitter before disappearing. Looking like no murder had ever happened. He turned to Edward and smiled at what was brought to him and what was said. "I'll change the labels to english for you love. But I'm fairly sure nothing dangerous would be kept in the kitchen..." Killian said but still took a sniff of the glass then looked to the bottle. He reached out with his hook and gave it a tap, the beautiful label morphing with magic so the fairy language changed to english. "Beezle Berry Brandy. Perfectly safe and extremely delicious, very sweet." Killian said and sipped at the glass and hummed happily.

ᒥ🌟ᒧ—        The hostility was a bit of a surprise, but he didn't think it was undeserved. Edward looks down with a pout, like a child being scolded. "'M just...So powerless in this land, Killian. I can't just stand by. Ya right, though, it was stupid. I thought the 'price of your heart' thing was metaphorical." He truly didn't know a thing about magic in the Enchanted Forest, he realizes that now. He enjoys the kiss, and returns the embrace.

Edward then pulls away to walk up the stairs to get that alcohol for them, but as he acends he stops to share one more thing with Killian. "Know ya don't like it, but I'll never stop tryin' ta keep ya safe. I'll be smart about it, now. Ya have my heart--Err, just...Leave it in my chest for now, please." He offers a small smile, maybe that wasn't funny, but he was never the best with tact. It was something he said often to his lover, but after that experience it had a whole new meaning. How was he supposed to know hearts can be taken right out of a chest? From the magicless place he came from, something like that was far more painful, bloody, and fatal.

It takes a bit of searching once he's back up on the main level, but the liquor is found. This castle, it was incredible, he'd never been in one before but it was just as grand as he imagined one would be. Lots of displays were around with things, and though tempted to touch and play with the swords, wands, and orbs he'd learnt his lesson of messing with things he didn't understand.

The man pours two glasses, triple checking that it was indeed just alcohol in the bottle first. He wasn't sure how he felt about drinking, he just spent the last while feeling drunk, but this was a special occasion and he could make an exception. He lifts the glasses and turns just in time to see Killian returning from whatever mess he was cleaning. "I have no idea what the hell this is, but it smells like alcohol, so hopefully its safe. Don't think I should trust anythin' from this place, 'm a little afraid we might turn into toads or somethin'." He holds out a glass for Killian, but he gestures with his head to the bottle it came from for the other to inspect.

[the-ventriloquizt]

[ Image: An insert illustration in the Arkham Asylum: Living Hell trade paperback. Warren White is in the foreground, wearing a rumpled and torn blue suit with black socks and dress shoes. He is curled in a ball, knees brought up to his chest and one of his hands clutching his shoulder, the other pushed into his hair. His expression is distraught, eyes heavily shadowed as he hides behind his forearm. There are handcuffs around his ankles and wrists, all attached with thin silver chains. In the background is a group of faces, all belonging to patients at Arkham Asylum, with various expressions. From the top and going right with each row, Humphry Dumpler looks deadly serious, Killer Croc is difficult to read, Junkyard Dog smiles, the Joker gives a wide grin, and Magpie looks stern. Two-Face and Harvey are unreadable, the Riddler smirks, and Deathrattle frowns. Mr. Freeze is hidden behind an unimpressed Poison Ivy, Scarecrow glares from over his glasses, the Mad Hatter smiles, and Arnold Wesker is obscured, but Scarface gives a menacing frown from the lowest right corner. ]

And the way better version of that insert!

[djemsostylist]

Primarch Styles

Lion: loose dark jeans, t-shirts, hoodies, cargo jackets, combat boots worn with the laces totally undone; aggressively wears lime-green crocs. Usually wears his hair loose, and refuses to carry hair ties. Sanguinius always has extras. Smells like pine trees and campfires.

-

Fulgrim: designer suits (no jacket), impeccably matched pocket squares, ties, socks, polished loafers, high end watches; completely different look every time you see him. Changes his hairstyle daily. Feels like just this side of trying too hard. Smells like cologne, but like everything else, the scent changes subtly each time.

Perturabo: slightly too short grey slacks, white button-down shirt buttoned all the way up and tucked in, suspenders, bow tie for more formal occasions, white Keds. Thinks it makes him look professional and casual like Dorn. Smells like olive oil and yeast.

Jaghatai: loose v-neck t-shirts, lots of leather/beaded bracelets and necklaces, dungarees, canvas sneakers, no socks. Usually wears his hair is a half-up ponytail. Refuses to share hair ties with Lion. Smells like incense and argon beard oil.

Russ: usually wears slightly rumpled hoodies and shorts, worn out athletic sneakers of an undefinable brand; also refuses to carry hair ties, but pickpockets Sanguinius whenever he needs one. The whole look seems careless, but almost too careless. Carries a reusable water bottle he won’t allow anyone to see the contents of. Smells like woodsmoke and snow.

Rogal: white collared shirt, v-neck sweaters in tans, golds, and reds, soft grey slacks, loafers. Will occasionally wear tweed jackets with patches at the elbows. Smells like cedar and cinnamon.

Konrad: stained, holey coveralls in a vaguely greyish color. Always smells slightly off, like the slightest whiff of sewage or a grave. Doesn’t believe in shampoo. Sanguinus tried to take him shopping once, and got bitten for his efforts.

Sanguinius: loose, white linen button down shirt with soft linen drawstring trousers, and sandals or canvas shoes. Always wears his hair loose but carries extra hair ties for his brothers. Only puts his hair up when things gets serious, and that makes everyone nervous. (Is partial to man buns in those instances). Always wears 3 piece suits to the annual primarch meetings in shades of black and red. Smells like cinnamon and vanilla.

Ferrus: white singlet, dickies cargo pants, steel-toed boots. Always has a tool or 10 in various pockets. Still uses handkerchiefs. Smells like oil and metals, sharp and tangy.

-

Angron: shorts that are practically pants, incredibly washed out and worn. Flannel shirt with the arms ripped off, socks with holes in them. Usually never wears shoes, but if forced will wear boots. Smells like old blood and dirt.

Roboute: 3 piece suits. Always dark blue or black. Has three main suits, which allows for optimal cycling through the dry cleaner. Ties are plain or subtly striped. Doesn’t wear a watch, but always knows what time it is. Carries his reading glasses in the breast pocket. Always wears a jacket. If the jacket comes off and the sleeves are rolled up, you’re probably okay. If the jacket gets folded on the back of the chair, run. (see Sanguinius and the man-bun). Smells like rain.

Mortarion: always wears a long, dark brown leather trenchcoat, unbuttoned. Some sort of dark pants and shirt, usually impossible to tell. Boots are always muddy, and he smells subtly earthly, like a swamp after the rain.

Magnus: wears boat shorts, short sleeved buttoned shirts, dockers. Wears his hair in a messy man bun with hairsticks, an apple watch, and stylish, square rimmed plastic glasses. Smells musky and sharp, like incense.

Horus: dark, fitted jeans, designer t-shirts, blazers, white Adidas sneakers. Wears a single gold ring with an imperial crest on his right pinkie. Looks like the epitome of middle management, “we’re a family here” boss who schedules employee retreats on ropes courses but never actually participates. Smells like generic men’s cologne, just a little bit too strong.

Lorgar: none of his clothes ever fit. T-shirts are slightly too large, his shoes always come untied, his pants always need a belt. Clothes are clean, but slightly worn. Usually obvious that someone else has given them to him. Smells slightly chemical, like bleach or industrial detergent.

Vulkan: black jeans, black motorcycle boots, super soft Henley’s in white, red, or green. Always rolls the sleeves up. Also carries hair ties despite the lack of hair. Always has snacks, but he never offers them, they just appear when you need them. Smells like brimstone and Old Spice.

Corax: black converse, black skinny jeans, indie band t-shirts, slightly too large zip up hoodies with ripped thumb holes, black sweatband. Refuses hair ties, but has agreed to let Sanguinius braid his hair on numerous occasions. Smells like an old library.

Alpharius & Omegon: whatever you’re wearing. Has no smell.

[goldenlaurelleaveswrites]

Fang’s Big Day

I wrote this because @blueberryrambles wanted to see the wedding from Worry and this ended up happening. I never planned on writing this, it just happened. That being said I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you have fun reading it! 

If you prefer to read on AO3 click here.

If you want to keep track of the parts, here is the master post for this fic. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Fang couldn’t wait. He had been waiting so long for this day to come. And now it was finally here.

His big day.

The day he would get to wear the flower crown Marinette had made for him. And carry all the pretty flowers. And he got to be in charge of all the flowers! All by himself.

He was even going to have his picture taken with his dad and the rest of the family! And there was going to be a party!

He couldn't wait.  

A commotion at the other end of the room drew his attention.

The big man who always snuck him extra treats, and the nice lady who always gave the best chin scratches, were following Marinette around as she paced. He didn’t understand what any of them were saying, but he did know that Marinette was agitated. He liked Marinette, and he didn’t want her to be upset.

Especially on his big day.

He made his way over to her, careful not to dislodge his flower crown or rumple her fancy dress; it wouldn’t do to ruin her clothes when she had dressed up for his special day.

Gently, he laid his snout on her foot and nuzzled her. It seemed to work because she stopped fretting and knelt to scratch his head.

“Thak you, Fang.”

                                                            ***

He was very careful to keep his steps in time with the music as he trotted down the aisle. After all, his dad was a musician. He was a good boy, and he didn’t want to disappoint anyone.

Which was why he was sure to shake his basket of flowers as hard as he could to scatter the blossoms onto the floor.

Over the past few months, he had learned a great deal about flowers. There were lots of different types of flowers; some were meant to sit in jugs on tables to block people from each other’s view, some were meant to be carried around, and some were meant to be left on the floor for people to walk on. He had learned so much about flowers in fact, that some might even call him an expert.

And as flower girl, his first job was to make sure there were enough flowers for Marinette to walk on.

                                                         ***

Fang was getting bored.

He had been sitting at the alter, perched on the step beside Marinette and Luka, for what felt like ages. And nobody was showing any interest in the flowers. It didn’t help that the lady, the officiant, apparently, whatever that meant, had been talking for ages.

Things had started out well enough.

The aisle had been thoroughly covered in flowers by the time he had made it to the end, and Marinette had seemed thrilled when she came down the aisle. She had been practically glowing, no doubt with pride for his job well done.

There had been a small hiccup when she tried to hand her bundle of flowers to her friend, but he had been quick to correct her mistake. He didn’t make hold it against her; she had undoubtedly been a little nervous standing in front of all those people, and the flowers had ended up in his basket in the end.

Her friend had seemed annoyed, but as flower girl, the flowers were his responsibility. It was his job to make sure they were well taken care of; he had been the one entrusted with the job after all.

There had been another ruckus when partway through whatever the lady, Marinette, and Luka were loudly discussing — he still wasn’t entirely sure why all the people sitting in the chairs were so engrossed in the conversation — the blond man who always smelled like stinky cheese had raised a fuss.

The man had been shouting something about Marinette and soles —though he wasn’t entirely sure what fish had to do with the situation — and people had started gasping. Luka, Marinette, and all the other people standing at the front had looked angry. The people in the chairs had been gasping.

He had been angry. Just who did this guy think he was, ruining his big day?

Marinette had shouted something at the man, who had eventually sat back down and started sulking. Marinette could be as fierce as any croc worth their scales when she wanted to be, but for good measure, he had been sure to growl and hiss anytime the man looked back up.

But that had been a while ago, and nothing particularly interesting had happened since. He was tempted to just curl up and take a nap, but Marinette and his dad were counting on him to take care of the flowers.

Napping would just have to wait. He had important responsibilities to see to.

                                                      ***

Fang gnawed at what was left of the last of his dinner. He was content, stomach full of roast chicken and croque-en-bouche. The food had been delicious, but even the decadent food couldn’t distract him from the way the photographer had treated him.  

Taking the pictures had been fun, even if the photograph seemed scared of him. But it hadn’t lasted nearly long enough. After what had been plenty of group shots, as well as shots of various groups, and a couple of just him, Marinette, and Luka, he had been rudely ushered away by the photographer.

He wasn’t used to being told what to do, except on rare occasions by his dad. The fact that the photographer had shouted at him when he tried to join Marinette and Luka for more pictures had added insult to injury.

He growled at the empty plate in front of him, still disgruntled.

He should have been in those pictures.

It was his big day.

And he was the flower girl.

                                                       ***

A third helping of dessert, and several guests taking pictures of him, had helped him forget about the rude photographer.

Now he was on the prowl for something to do; he had already checked on all the flower arrangements and gotten belly rubs from his dad.

He made his way through the room towards the dancefloor. It had been busy throughout the night, surely there would be something for him to do.

By the time he made his way to the dancefloor, there was a big gaggle of women gathering a little bit away from Marinette. He was confused. Marinette wasn’t facing the people; she had her back turned to them, with her flowers held out in front of her. He edged closer to get a better look.

Suddenly, Marinette’s bundle of flowers went sailing through the air. Towards the women!

His dad had been very firm in what his job was. As flower girl, he was responsible for the flowers.

He knew what he had to do.

Mouth wide open in anticipation, he scrambled towards the women, where the flowers were headed. He watched as they seemingly inched through the air. He ignored the women as they began to scream and run away from him; he had to focus on getting the flowers before they fell.

They were his responsibility.

He hissed in glee as he caught them in his mouth, and with his tail waving proudly, he made his way back to Marinette to present her with the flowers that she dropped.

Maybe he would even get an extra treat for saving them.